Read Online Sour Apples by Sheila Connolly - Free Book Online Page B

now. And she wasn’t interested for any pressing purpose; mostly she was curious. Maybe she had too much free time on her hands at the moment—but she was pretty sure that Bree would help her get rid of that in short order.
    She had just switched off the computer when Bree drove up and went into the barn. Meg pulled on a jacket and went out, too, finding Bree inside the barn reviewing the label on a bottle of what Meg recognized as an organic pesticide. “Hey, I talked to Seth, and he’s on board with the expansion. Now I just need to find someone to draw up an agreement.”
    “Great! So can I order the trees?”
    Meg laughed. “Hey, give me at least one night to look at the catalogs! Will tomorrow be too late?”
    “I think I can wait that long. Thanks, Meg. This is going to be fun!”
    Back inside, Meg spent a pleasant hour perusing the apple varieties advertised in the stack of catalogs Bree had left for her. The names and descriptions were wonderful, and Meg was grateful that Bree had highlighted the varieties that were most likely to thrive in her orchard; otherwise she might have been tempted to order the ones with the most appealing names. Who could resist names like Black Gilliflower, Ashmead’s Kernel, Maiden Blush, or Winter Banana? Good thing she had Bree to rein her in. Although maybe she could argue for a couple of the exotic ones, just for the fun of it. How many trees were they talking about? Bree had patiently explained to her how to obtain maximum yield per acre, but it had been a year ago, and Meg had been so woefully ignorant then that the information had gone in one ear and out the other. She’d have to ask Bree toexplain it to her again. Still, two or three acres of trees had to be a lot of trees. Were they supposed to be digging holes by hand? That sounded daunting, if not impossible, if they were talking about dozens or even hundreds of trees. Would they need a backhoe or an auger? More questions.
    Lauren breezed in about five, poking her head in to greet Meg, who was still seated at the dining room table with the catalogs and her laptop. “Hi, Meg, can’t stay—cocktail thing in Springfield, and I need to change.”
    Meg laughed. “Hey, slow down and breathe, will you?”
    Lauren flashed her a smile. “Can’t—breathing’s not on the schedule. I could pencil it in for tomorrow morning, though.” She turned and hurried up the stairs.
    Meg smiled, then stood up and stretched. Lolly came tripping down the stairs, either startled by Lauren or looking for dinner, or both. “Hey, cutie—you hungry? I think I am. Let’s see what we can find.” She led the way to the kitchen and started assembling ingredients. She heard Lauren come down the stairs again fifteen minutes later and call out a “good-bye” before going out the front door. When she’d pulled out of the driveway, Bree came in the back door.
    “She gone?” Bree asked.
    “Yes, she said she had to attend something in Springfield. What is it with you and Seth? You both seem to be trying to avoid her.”
    “I just don’t like to be pressured, and she’s pretty intense,” Bree said. “What’s for dinner?”
    “Chicken something or other—I’m making it up as I go.”
    “Do I have time for a shower? I’ve been decanting pesticide all day.”
    “Help yourself!”
    By the time Bree returned, still toweling dry her hair, dinner was ready. Meg dished up and set the plates on the table. “I forgot to fill you in on what’s been going on today. After you left, Detective Marcus showed up and talked toSeth and Joyce Truesdell’s husband Ethan—that guy who was here when you left? It turns out Joyce was murdered.”
    “What?” Bree nearly choked on a mouthful of food. “Who? How?”
    “We don’t know yet. At first they thought it was an accident, but it sounds like the autopsy showed otherwise.”
    “Wow. How was she killed?”
    “A couple of whacks on the head.” Meg shivered. “Detective Marcus came here looking