Seeds of Deception (An Orchard Mystery) by Sheila Connolly

Author:Sheila Connolly [Connolly, Sheila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-10-03T23:00:00+00:00

16

Seth arrived a half-hour later with bags of food. They sat in the so-called breakfast room, because it was more intimate than the formal dining room and less crowded than the kitchen nook would have been. Everyone made an effort to avoid talking about Arthur or the attack or about Enrique or the state of Phillip’s car, which made the conversations rather strained. Seth and Meg volunteered the details of their tour of Monticello, which her parents had never seen. Seth talked about antique tools, and Phillip listened politely, although Meg knew he had little interest in working with his hands. Elizabeth smiled when anyone was looking at her, but said little, her face falling back into worried lines when the others turned away—but Meg noticed. Her heart ached for her mother: she didn’t deserve this. Maybe she’d gotten off easy thus far in her life, but to be thrust suddenly into not one but two murder investigations would be hard on anyone.

“I’ll clean up,” Elizabeth said when they’d finished eating. Meg was about to protest when she realized that having something to do would probably be the best thing for her mother.

“I think we’ll go up, then,” Meg said, glancing at Seth. He stood up and waited for her to do the same. “You both look done in. Get some sleep, will you?”

“Good night, sweetheart,” her father said as he stood and kissed her forehead.

Meg hugged her mother, holding on a moment longer than usual, and then she and Seth left the room and crossed the hall to what Meg always thought of as the grand staircase.

“Do you think any kids ever slid down this bannister?” Seth asked on the way up the stairs.

“Boys, maybe. It’s pretty high, and you could do some real damage to yourself if you slipped.”

In bed, Meg, her head on Seth’s chest, said, “I never realized how much my life would change when we got married.”

“We haven’t changed, have we?”

“Yes and no. Or maybe I should say, the unit that is now us, which is not the same thing as you and me. If we weren’t married, I wouldn’t dream of dragging you into this mess with my parents.”

“I’m doing this for you, not for them. It’s the transitive property of families.”

“I appreciate it, and I’m glad you’re here. I’m just worried that because it’s now in the ‘family’ category, you think you have to be involved.”

“You’ve been part of plenty of my family’s problems. Now it’s my turn. So, is there a plan for tomorrow?”

“We go talk to Arthur, if we can. Assuming he’s willing, and up to it.”

“Fair enough. Let’s get some sleep.”

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