Bitter Harvest (28 page)

“Not at all. Unless he’s allergic to cats. But I’ve only got the one.”

“That’s okay. We’ve got three.” Jenn went around to the other side of the car and started disentangling a sleepy Eli from his car seat. Meg went back into the kitchen to put a kettle on to boil. Jenn rapped on the door a couple of moments later.

“Come on in. Is coffee all right, or would you like something else?”

“Coffee’s good.” With a practiced move, Jenn shrugged off her jacket without letting go of her son. With one hand she slung the jacket over the back of a chair and sat down, settling Eli on her lap. He pointed at Lolly, once again curled up on the top of the refrigerator. “Gah!” he said.

“Yeah, baby, that’s a cat. You’ve got a great house, Meg.”

“Thanks. Have you been inside before?”

“No, but I’ve been driving past it most of my life—I grew up in Granford. Good thing you got rid of some of those lowlifes that were living here before.”

“The renters?” Meg measured coffee, then poured hot water over the grounds. “Why?”

“They were bringing down the neighborhood. You’re lucky they didn’t trash the place.”

That was something Meg had never considered. Sure, they had ignored some needed repairs, and left behind some seriously shabby furniture, but it had never occurred to Meg that renters would want to do real damage. “I guess I am. My mother left all that to the local law firm, who found a real estate firm to handle the rentals.”

“Your mother, she’s the one who inherited?”

“Yes, she did, although now we own it jointly. I must say, it was a real surprise to her when the Warren sisters left it to her. We’re pretty distantly related. What do you like in your coffee?”

“Milk and sugar, if you’ve got ’em.”

“Of course.” Meg set her sugar bowl on the table and pulled a carton of milk out of the refrigerator. “Here you go. You want me to hold the baby—Eli, right?—while you fix your coffee?”

“You don’t have to—unless you want to?”

Did she? Meg’s experience with small children was limited. “Sure.” Meg held out her arms, and Jenn deposited a rather damp Eli in them, who promptly stuck a finger up Meg’s nose. She gently removed it, asking, “You said he was sixteen months old? Is he walking yet?”

“Some. Mostly he crawls. Don’t you, sweetie?” Jenn cooed at Eli. Eli turned his head toward his mother but otherwise seemed content to stay in Meg’s arms. Jenn added two spoons of sugar and a healthy dollop of milk to her mug and stirred.

“He’s so blond,” Meg said, looking down at the top of Eli’s head. “He must take after you.”

“I guess. Hey, you got anything to eat? We kind of missed breakfast.”

Meg recalled belatedly that John was out of work, so food money was probably tight. “Toast, muffins?”

“Whatever.”

Jenn held out her arms for her son, and Meg handed him back, then went to the refrigerator to explore. “I’ve got some leftover coffee cake.”

“Sounds good.”

Meg pulled the coffee cake out of the refrigerator and set it in the microwave to warm up, then found plates, knives, and butter. When she turned back, Jenn was wandering around the kitchen, studying the details, bouncing Eli in her arms. “How old’s this place?” she asked.

“I figure it was built around 1760, with some changes maybe a hundred years later.”

Jenn nodded. “Our place is maybe fifty years old. And a lot smaller.”

“I don’t remember which house it is,” Meg said.

“Small, white asbestos shingles, green roof, one-car garage. Easy to miss. It’s actually John’s mother’s place.”

“Does she live with you?”

“We live with her. She helps with the babysitting, so I can get out now and then.”

Meg noticed that the coffee cake had disappeared quickly from Jenn’s plate. “She works at Gran’s, right? I met her there this week. Can I get anything for Eli?”

“No, he liked the cake.” That was evident from the abundant crumbs he’d scattered down his front and on the table. Jenn extricated her wrist and checked the time. “Can you call Seth, see where John is?”

“Oh, sure.” Meg found her cell phone, hit Seth’s speed dial number, and handed over the phone and busied herself with washing their few dishes while Jenn talked.

When she was finished, Jenn handed back the phone. “Thanks. John’s gonna meet me at the doctor’s office. I’d better go or we’ll be late. Thanks for the coffee, Meg. Come on, Eli—bye-bye time.”

“Here, let me hold him while you put on your coat,” Meg volunteered.

“Thanks.” Jenn handed the baby back to Meg.

Meg and Eli contemplated each other silently for the few seconds it took Jenn to pull on her coat. He certainly was a placid child, Meg thought.

“He’s sure no trouble,” Meg said.

Jenn took him back. “Yeah, he’s Mommy’s little sweetie.”

Meg opened the back door for her. “Nice to see you, Jenn. And you too, Eli.” Meg waved at Eli. Eli just stared at her. Maybe she had no knack for babies.

She watched Jenn buckle her son into his car seat again, and pull out in a cloud of exhaust—obviously the car could use a tune-up. Which they probably couldn’t afford.

Entertaining Jenn and Eli had used up maybe half an hour. It wasn’t even time for lunch. The goats were taken care of. Now what? With a sigh, Meg acknowledged that she’d probably be forced to do some of that dreaded housework she kept deferring. Maybe she could make curtains—or order them online, since she hadn’t used her sewing skills since she was a Girl Scout. So she should go measure windows and decide which curtains really had to be replaced.

But first she called Bree on her cell phone. “Bree? Were you planning to come back tonight?”

“Uh, maybe. Why?”

“I’m hatching a plan to identify our mystery stalker, and I want to talk to you and Seth about it. I’ll make dinner.”

“Uh, sure, okay. See you sixish.”

Meg had massacred an army of spiders, and her windows were cleaner than they had been since she had arrived. She was basking in the glow of virtuous satisfaction as she chopped parsley. Seth had agreed to join them for dinner, and was due to arrive any minute. Bree returned first and came bounding in. “Hey, you need any help?”

“No, I’ve got it under control. Thanks for coming back—I didn’t mean to cut into your time with Michael.”

“He’s cool with it. He had some stuff he had to do, anyway. It’s not like we can’t stand to be separated, you know.”

Did she know? Bree’s love life was her own business, and Meg didn’t pry. She liked Michael. And a small part of her was glad that Bree wasn’t rushing into any kind of serious relationship; she’d rather Bree concentrated on the business, at least for now.

Bree helped herself to a soda from the refrigerator. “Besides, I want to hear what you’re planning.”

“And I want your input. This all started when I realized in the middle of the night that I’m tired of sitting here waiting for the next bad thing to happen, without doing anything about it. I think it’s time to turn the tables.”

“Good for you. I’m with you.”

Seth’s van pulled into the driveway, and a few moments later he knocked at the back door. Meg went to open it. “Hey, you don’t need to knock.”

“Just being polite.”

“Bree’s here.”

“I know—I saw her car. So I can’t ravish you on the kitchen floor?”

“Save that for later.”

Bree was watching them with amusement. “Hi, Seth. I guess you guys made up, huh?”

Meg looked at Seth, and they both smiled. “Uh, yeah,” Meg said. “Seth, help yourself to something to drink. I’ll finish cooking.” As Seth fished a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, she added, “I was surprised to see Jenn here today. She said Eli had a doctor’s appointment but John had the checkbook. You said their baby was sick? He seemed fine today. What’s the problem?”

Seth shrugged. “I don’t really know. John doesn’t talk about it. I get the impression it’s something chronic, though. I wish I could hire him and give him health insurance, but I don’t have the work, at least not at the moment. He signed up with the state program, but even that’s hard to afford. Lousy situation all around.”

“It’s sad. And I’m pretty sure Jenn was hungry when she was here. I offered her some coffee cake and it disappeared in under a minute. She said they’re living with his mother?”

“That’s what I understand. She’s been widowed for years, so I guess it works out for all of them.”

Meg dished up dinner and set plates on the table. “Okay, let’s eat, and then we can plan.”

They talked about trivial things through dinner and while they cleared away the dishes. Meg put a plate of cookies—another product of her free afternoon—in the center of the table, filled coffee cups, and sat down. “I feel like I should say, ‘the meeting will come to order.’ Bree, you take notes.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Yes, I’m kidding. Okay, Seth and I were talking this morning—”

“Bet that’s not all you were doing,” Bree said, grinning, her mouth full of cookie.

“Shut up.” Meg glanced sidelong at Seth, who was studying the depths of his coffee—and smiling. “So as I told you both, I was thinking last night and I realized I want to do something about this. Seth pointed out that there’s nothing the police can do to help, at least until some major crime is committed, and we don’t want to wait for that.”

“No way,” Bree said. “But what
can
we do?”

Seth spoke up. “We’ve already ruled out using electronic devices—too complex, too expensive, and probably too obvious. So Meg thinks we use human eyes. We start by making sure there’s somebody here 24/7. We stay alert.”

“And we set a trap,” Meg interrupted. When Seth cocked his head at her, she went on, “No, not a physical trap. We just make it look like no one’s home, then wait and see if this person takes advantage of it.”

“And how long are we supposed to keep doing this?” Bree asked, looking skeptical.

“I don’t think we’d have to wait too long,” Meg said. “Look, these things seem to have started happening less than two weeks ago. Assuming that was the beginning, then there’s been something almost every day since. So, bottom line—this person is moving fast and keeping up the pressure.”

“If we knew ‘why’ we’d have a better chance of knowing ‘who,’ ” Seth said quietly.

“I agree,” Meg replied, “but I’ve racked my brains and I can’t come up with anything. You’ve lived here all your life, Seth. Any ideas?”

Seth sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked tired. “No. It would be nice if it was an outsider, wouldn’t it? I know—they don’t know you, and they’d have no reason to target you. But at the same time I can’t think of anyone in Granford who would have a grudge against you—that’s what makes this so hard to figure out.”

Meg nodded, then resumed, “Can we set up a schedule, so that at least one of us is here and awake at all times? I can cover a lot of it, since I don’t have anywhere I have to be right now. But not twenty-four hours a day! I can plan any errands I have to do when Bree will be here. Seth, what can you handle?”

“Not much, at least during the day. I’ve got a couple of jobs going, but they’re scattered, so I’m moving from one to the other. Night’s better, but I can’t promise I’ll stay awake. Bree, how about you?”

“I don’t need much sleep—I can probably cover the late shift. How about this: we ditch the cars somewhere else and then sneak back? So it looks like the place is empty, but it’s not?”

“Good idea, but let’s start tomorrow night. I have to make some plans first. Oh, by the way,” Seth added, “the weather report says it might snow again.”

“A lot?” Meg said anxiously.

“Not like the last time, just a normal winter snowfall.”

“Will that make a difference in our plans?”

“Maybe. Snow would make it harder to see anyone, but then they would leave footprints, at least for a short while—so at least you’d be sure you’re not imagining things. Let’s just play it by ear, okay?”

“Okay, I guess,” Meg said, stifling a sigh. She really wanted to get started, because she wanted the whole thing to be over. “Bree, will you be around tomorrow?”

“I can be. So, how do we pull off hiding my car?”

“You can leave it at my place,” Seth offered.

“And then I can come and collect you there,” said Meg.

“Ooh, do I get to hide under a blanket in the trunk?”

“Only if you really want to.” Meg laughed. “It’s pretty dark late in the afternoon, especially if it clouds over, so if you leave by four or five, you can sneak into the house.”

“Why not the barn?” Bree asked.

“What?” Meg replied, startled.

“I could spend the night in the barn, like you did. We’ve got built-in goat-heat”—Bree flashed a smile—“and if I was out there, it would spread us around, give us different views, better coverage. You bring me back and I sneak into the barn, and lay low for the night. You got any night-vision goggles?”