Read Online Golden Malicious (Apple Orchard Mystery) by Sheila Connolly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sheila Connolly
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Marcus was willing to part with the information so easily.”
“I guess he figured there was nothing controversial in them.”
Meg concurred. “You want to stay for dinner? We’re throwing together something that involves vegetables, although we haven’t decided what yet.”
“Sure, why not? My wife’s visiting her sister on Cape Cod.”
“Then come on in. I think I’ve got beer.” Meg pulled open the screen door and wrestled her full bags through. “Bree?” she called out.
“Yo,” came the answer from somewhere upstairs, and then Bree came pounding down the stairs. “Hey, hi, Art. Something new happen?”
“Hey, Bree. No, nothing important. I’m just delivering some reports, and Meg asked me to stay for dinner.”
“Are you going to be around, Bree?” Meg asked. “I think it’s something vegetarian, although I’m not sure what. I couldn’t make up my mind what to get at the food stand, so I got a couple of everything, and it’s all better eaten fresh.”
“Curry?” Bree suggested.
“Veggie curry? Sure, but you’ll have to show me how to make it.”
“Where do you want this stuff?” Seth asked, coming inside with several more bags.
“On the kitchen table. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
As both Meg and Seth unpacked their haul, the table began to overflow with bright summer colors: a variety of lettuces, fresh herbs, small peppers, tomatoes, and more. “I should take a picture of this,” Meg said. “Bree, you sure we shouldn’t put in our own vegetable garden?”
“When you’ve got good stuff like this available from that organic farm only a mile or two away? Let them do it—looks like they’re doing a great job. Hey, you guys, why don’t you do the chopping? You can talk and chop at the same time, can’t you?” Bree grinned at Seth and Art, then handed them knives and cutting boards. She washed a batch of the vegetables in a colander, shook off the water, and put them on the table between Seth and Art, then set out a couple of large knives. “Go!”
Meg handed out beers all around, then sat down to admire the men’s efforts. “Anything jump out at you from the reports Marcus sent, Art?”
“I only glanced at them. The guy arrived under his own steam—his car was in the parking area. Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head, specifically the back, and nobody’s committing to anything. Could be somebody hit him from behind with something. Or, could be he tripped and fell backward and hit his head, although for someone used to forests it’s hard to see that. Still, accidents happen.”
“If he fell, why was he found under some bushes off the path?” Seth asked.
“Playing devil’s advocate, are you? But it’s a fair question, and there are several possible answers. For one, blows to the head are notoriously tricky. Clapp might not have been rendered unconscious immediately and might have tried to get help but ended up going the wrong direction because he was disoriented by the blow. Or he might have been knocked out at first, then woke up and started crawling, likewise the wrong way.”
“He could have been trying to hide from whoever hit him,” Bree volunteered, as she chopped large quantities of basil, whose pungent odor quickly filled the kitchen.
“That would work—
if
there was someone else involved. Or the final possibility: somebody knocked him out, killing him, accidentally or on purpose, and then dragged him into the bushes to hide him. But there’s no evidence that anyone else was there. Or rather, there’s lots of evidence that many people were there, like hikers, but nothing that points to any individual.”
“He wasn’t dragged by a bear or anything like that, was he?” Meg asked, suppressing a shudder at the thought.
“No marks on the body to suggest that, per the report,” Art said.
“You said the blow came from behind?” Seth asked, slicing peppers.
“Yeah,” Art said, “by someone right-handed. Unless he
“I guess he figured there was nothing controversial in them.”
Meg concurred. “You want to stay for dinner? We’re throwing together something that involves vegetables, although we haven’t decided what yet.”
“Sure, why not? My wife’s visiting her sister on Cape Cod.”
“Then come on in. I think I’ve got beer.” Meg pulled open the screen door and wrestled her full bags through. “Bree?” she called out.
“Yo,” came the answer from somewhere upstairs, and then Bree came pounding down the stairs. “Hey, hi, Art. Something new happen?”
“Hey, Bree. No, nothing important. I’m just delivering some reports, and Meg asked me to stay for dinner.”
“Are you going to be around, Bree?” Meg asked. “I think it’s something vegetarian, although I’m not sure what. I couldn’t make up my mind what to get at the food stand, so I got a couple of everything, and it’s all better eaten fresh.”
“Curry?” Bree suggested.
“Veggie curry? Sure, but you’ll have to show me how to make it.”
“Where do you want this stuff?” Seth asked, coming inside with several more bags.
“On the kitchen table. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
As both Meg and Seth unpacked their haul, the table began to overflow with bright summer colors: a variety of lettuces, fresh herbs, small peppers, tomatoes, and more. “I should take a picture of this,” Meg said. “Bree, you sure we shouldn’t put in our own vegetable garden?”
“When you’ve got good stuff like this available from that organic farm only a mile or two away? Let them do it—looks like they’re doing a great job. Hey, you guys, why don’t you do the chopping? You can talk and chop at the same time, can’t you?” Bree grinned at Seth and Art, then handed them knives and cutting boards. She washed a batch of the vegetables in a colander, shook off the water, and put them on the table between Seth and Art, then set out a couple of large knives. “Go!”
Meg handed out beers all around, then sat down to admire the men’s efforts. “Anything jump out at you from the reports Marcus sent, Art?”
“I only glanced at them. The guy arrived under his own steam—his car was in the parking area. Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head, specifically the back, and nobody’s committing to anything. Could be somebody hit him from behind with something. Or, could be he tripped and fell backward and hit his head, although for someone used to forests it’s hard to see that. Still, accidents happen.”
“If he fell, why was he found under some bushes off the path?” Seth asked.
“Playing devil’s advocate, are you? But it’s a fair question, and there are several possible answers. For one, blows to the head are notoriously tricky. Clapp might not have been rendered unconscious immediately and might have tried to get help but ended up going the wrong direction because he was disoriented by the blow. Or he might have been knocked out at first, then woke up and started crawling, likewise the wrong way.”
“He could have been trying to hide from whoever hit him,” Bree volunteered, as she chopped large quantities of basil, whose pungent odor quickly filled the kitchen.
“That would work—
if
there was someone else involved. Or the final possibility: somebody knocked him out, killing him, accidentally or on purpose, and then dragged him into the bushes to hide him. But there’s no evidence that anyone else was there. Or rather, there’s lots of evidence that many people were there, like hikers, but nothing that points to any individual.”
“He wasn’t dragged by a bear or anything like that, was he?” Meg asked, suppressing a shudder at the thought.
“No marks on the body to suggest that, per the report,” Art said.
“You said the blow came from behind?” Seth asked, slicing peppers.
“Yeah,” Art said, “by someone right-handed. Unless he
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