headed out the back door, pulling on a jacket on the way.
As soon as Bree had slammed the door behind her, Lauren wandered into the kitchen, wearing a dingy bathrobe. “Hey,” she said, heading for the coffee. “It’s cold here. Didn’t you tell me you’d gotten a new furnace?”
“Good morning to you, too. Yes, I did, but I keep the heat low—it’s expensive to heat a leaky old house. I thought you had meetings this morning.”
“I do, at nine, which means I have about seventeen minutes to enjoy my coffee. What’s up with you?”
“The usual. Pruning, spraying, tilling, planting, rinse, and repeat.”
“You make me tired just listening to you,” Lauren said, smiling. “And here I thought I was busy. You know, it’s hard to imagine doing this for the next eight months.”
“The campaign, you mean? I’d bet your job is harder than the candidate’s. He just has to show up where you tell him to, in the transportation you arrange, and give the speech that he probably didn’t write himself.
You
have to make it all happen.”
“You’ve got that right. But I love the energy of it. I love being part of something bigger than I am, that isn’t just about the money.”
“Like the bank was, you mean? I can understand that. I’ve found I do like farming, even if it is dirty and messy and unpredictable. At least at the end of the season I get a product I can hold, and eat. I’m not sure I’d like to be something like a dairy farmer, though—there’s no downtime at all.”
“I can’t imagine being a dairy farmer—all those big, messy cows, and you have to milk them all the time.”
“Speaking of dairy farmers, we just lost one of the few in town here—Seth told me yesterday. The poor woman was killed in a freak accident. It looks like one of her cows kicked her in the head.”
“Oh my God—that’s awful! At least in an orchard the worst that might happen is a tree might fall on you, and your trees aren’t real big.”
Meg went over to the sink to rinse her dishes. Seth’s van and Ethan’s truck were both still parked in the drive. Then, as she watched, another all-too-familiar vehicle pulled into the driveway: a state police car, with Detective William Marcus—Lauren’s ex—at the wheel. Marcus got out of the car and headed for Seth’s office.
“Uh-oh,” Meg said.
“What?” Lauren asked.
“Our mutual friend Detective Marcus is here. That’s not usually good news.”
Lauren bolted out of her chair. “Shoot, look at the time! I’ve got to get dressed and get out of here.” She dashed for the stairs, leaving Meg to wonder whether it was because her friend was running late—or because she was trying to avoid her ex.
Meg felt conflicted. If Detective Marcus was here to talk to Seth, that meant something was wrong. She couldn’t just barge in and ask, but she didn’t feel like she could accomplish anything either until she knew what was going on.
Ten minutes passed before Detective Marcus, Seth, and the other man emerged from the building, and even from a distance the three men looked grim. Meg pulled open the door and stepped out onto the granite step. Seth and Marcus sent her twin warning glances; the unfamiliar man looked shattered and didn’t even notice her.
She could hear Marcus’s gravelly voice clearly. “Go home, Ethan. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything more.” He stared at him until he grudgingly turned and went back to his truck. Ethan didn’t bother to wait for Marcus to move his vehicle, but with a screech of tires he backed over part of Meg’s lawn and pulled onto the street.
Marcus watched him go before turning to Seth. “I hate this part of the job,” he said.
“Anything I can do?” Seth asked.
“Find those records he was talking about. Keep your ears open. It’s early days yet.”
Meg walked forward to meet them. “Detective, what brings you here?”
“Chapin can tell you. I’ve got to get back to my office.”
Lauren chose
As soon as Bree had slammed the door behind her, Lauren wandered into the kitchen, wearing a dingy bathrobe. “Hey,” she said, heading for the coffee. “It’s cold here. Didn’t you tell me you’d gotten a new furnace?”
“Good morning to you, too. Yes, I did, but I keep the heat low—it’s expensive to heat a leaky old house. I thought you had meetings this morning.”
“I do, at nine, which means I have about seventeen minutes to enjoy my coffee. What’s up with you?”
“The usual. Pruning, spraying, tilling, planting, rinse, and repeat.”
“You make me tired just listening to you,” Lauren said, smiling. “And here I thought I was busy. You know, it’s hard to imagine doing this for the next eight months.”
“The campaign, you mean? I’d bet your job is harder than the candidate’s. He just has to show up where you tell him to, in the transportation you arrange, and give the speech that he probably didn’t write himself.
You
have to make it all happen.”
“You’ve got that right. But I love the energy of it. I love being part of something bigger than I am, that isn’t just about the money.”
“Like the bank was, you mean? I can understand that. I’ve found I do like farming, even if it is dirty and messy and unpredictable. At least at the end of the season I get a product I can hold, and eat. I’m not sure I’d like to be something like a dairy farmer, though—there’s no downtime at all.”
“I can’t imagine being a dairy farmer—all those big, messy cows, and you have to milk them all the time.”
“Speaking of dairy farmers, we just lost one of the few in town here—Seth told me yesterday. The poor woman was killed in a freak accident. It looks like one of her cows kicked her in the head.”
“Oh my God—that’s awful! At least in an orchard the worst that might happen is a tree might fall on you, and your trees aren’t real big.”
Meg went over to the sink to rinse her dishes. Seth’s van and Ethan’s truck were both still parked in the drive. Then, as she watched, another all-too-familiar vehicle pulled into the driveway: a state police car, with Detective William Marcus—Lauren’s ex—at the wheel. Marcus got out of the car and headed for Seth’s office.
“Uh-oh,” Meg said.
“What?” Lauren asked.
“Our mutual friend Detective Marcus is here. That’s not usually good news.”
Lauren bolted out of her chair. “Shoot, look at the time! I’ve got to get dressed and get out of here.” She dashed for the stairs, leaving Meg to wonder whether it was because her friend was running late—or because she was trying to avoid her ex.
Meg felt conflicted. If Detective Marcus was here to talk to Seth, that meant something was wrong. She couldn’t just barge in and ask, but she didn’t feel like she could accomplish anything either until she knew what was going on.
Ten minutes passed before Detective Marcus, Seth, and the other man emerged from the building, and even from a distance the three men looked grim. Meg pulled open the door and stepped out onto the granite step. Seth and Marcus sent her twin warning glances; the unfamiliar man looked shattered and didn’t even notice her.
She could hear Marcus’s gravelly voice clearly. “Go home, Ethan. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything more.” He stared at him until he grudgingly turned and went back to his truck. Ethan didn’t bother to wait for Marcus to move his vehicle, but with a screech of tires he backed over part of Meg’s lawn and pulled onto the street.
Marcus watched him go before turning to Seth. “I hate this part of the job,” he said.
“Anything I can do?” Seth asked.
“Find those records he was talking about. Keep your ears open. It’s early days yet.”
Meg walked forward to meet them. “Detective, what brings you here?”
“Chapin can tell you. I’ve got to get back to my office.”
Lauren chose
Similar Books
