Nipped in the Bud Read online

  “Have you talked to the police? In Boston or out this way?”

  “Well, I didn’t want to make a fuss. I mean, she’s a grown woman and a pretty independent one, and she would be really pissed at me if I sicced the police on her just because we had a fight.”

  “I can understand that.” No, actually, I can’t: if I went missing for a week under those circumstances I’d want someone to be looking for me. “Has she done anything like this before?”

  Justin shook his head vehemently. “No, nothing like this. And she’s always got her mobile in a pocket, but when I try to call it goes straight to voice mail.”

  “Why did you come looking for her here in Granford?”

  “Well, I don’t know this area well, but I figured it’d be hard to find one person in Northampton or Amherst because they’re both pretty big and there are a lot of people coming and going there—you know, students, tourists and stuff. I had the feeling Jenn just wanted to get away from me for a while and spend time in someplace peaceful. I’ll admit we needed a break.”

  This Justin was being awfully self-effacing about all this, and Meg didn’t trust him. “But she didn’t know anyone in Granford? No family or friends? Because this isn’t exactly a tourist destination, and there aren’t many places to stay around here. Why would she come here?”

  “I’m beginning to figure out that asking around here doesn’t make much sense. Stupid of me, I know, but I felt like I had to do something. For all I know she’s still in Boston, hiding out from me. Or she went to see her mother in Ohio—I didn’t want to call her mother’s house and upset her.”

  “You think she might have thought she’d like to stay around here for a while? Maybe get a job? What does she do?”

  “This and that. Some waitressing. She worked in a department store over Christmas. Stuff like that.”

  Alarm bells were clanging in Meg’s head, accompanied by flashing red lights. She hoped her expression hadn’t changed. “How about you, Justin?” she asked. “Can you take much time off from work to look for her?”

  “I’ve got an office job, working with computers, and I’ve got plenty of vacation time coming. It’s not a problem. I just want to make sure she’s all right. I’m not a creepy stalker or anything like that.”

  So you say. Meg took a long sip of her coffee while she sorted out her thoughts. She’d almost believed the sincere boyfriend shtick, but then he’d blown his cover by lying. Of course, he didn’t know that she knew a lot more about what was going on than an ordinary housewife would have. “I wish I could help you, but as you’ve probably learned, this is a small town, and we don’t get a lot of strangers here, so somebody would probably remember seeing her. You might have better luck looking in Holyoke. And you really should talk to the police here if you think she was headed to Granford. It’s been long enough that they should take you seriously, and all you risk is embarrassment if she suddenly turns up.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Let me show you out.” When he stood up, Meg led him back to the front door and held it open for him. “Good luck to you. I hope she turns up, safe and sound.”

  “So do I. Thank you for talking with me.” He smiled politely, then turned and went back to his car. Meg watched as he got into his car, but after starting his engine he didn’t drive off immediately. Instead he pulled out his cell phone and called someone. Was someone else waiting for his call? Meg watched until he pulled out of the end of her driveway, with a fake smile plastered on her face, before shutting the door behind her and double locking it. She thought for a moment, then pulled out her mobile phone and called Seth: she didn’t want Larry to hear what she had to say. Not yet, anyway.

  Seth answered quickly. “What’s up?”

  “I just had a very odd conversation with Justin Campbell—yes, that one, the so-called boyfriend. Don’t say anything out loud, because I don’t want to involve Larry just yet, but I’d kind of like to talk with you about it, while it’s fresh.”

  “Larry’s gathering more lumber from the barn, he can’t hear me. The guy was actually here? At the house?”

  “Yes, he was. He seems like a nice enough guy, but he lied to me, to my face. Of course, he doesn’t know how much I know, and I played innocent and sent him on his way. But I’d really like to talk to you, now.”

  “Be there in two minutes.”

  Chapter 15

  Seth had clearly been worried by Meg’s cryptic comment: he was back in less than his estimated two minutes. “You okay?”

  “Of course I’m okay,” Meg said more tartly than she intended. “This Justin person seemed perfectly respectable and polite, and told a convincing story. Of course, he’d know how to do that if he’s a journalist. But I knew he was lying. Not so much about who he is, but when he started talking about Jenn, he claimed she was his girlfriend and she worked at odd jobs like waitressing, and they’d had a big fight after which she walked out, and I knew most of that wasn’t true. He didn’t have a good explanation for why she would head to Granford, where it’s kind of hard to hide. But of course, if she was chasing after drug dealers and he knew it, he’d want to stay as far away from any real explanation as possible. Wouldn’t he?”

  “Yes, I think so. So, in time-honored fashion he just played dumb. ‘We had a fight and she left and I haven’t a clue why.’ That usually works. Of course, it’s often true: a lot of guys are clueless about why relationships go bad. So, tell me what he said.”

  “All of it?” Meg asked. “Or just the stuff he made up?”

  “All of it. Please.”

  Meg ran through the details of Justin’s visit, until she reached his first lie. “I swear I would have believed him if he hadn’t lied to me then. He was definitely trying to fool me. What do you think he wanted?”

  Seth sat back in his chair and thought for a long moment. “I would guess that he didn’t expect to get any real information from you. Based on what Art said, he’s already asked other people in town the same questions and gotten no results. Which may mean he knows that Jenn is dead and that her body was found awfully close to here and he’s checking the place out. You didn’t bring up anything about the murder, did you?”

  “No way! I just pretended to be stupid. I don’t know whether to be pleased or offended that he believed my act. Of course, he was acting too.”

  “Did he pay attention to anything in particular about the house?”

  “Not the house, as such, but he did try to find out if I was living here alone, which I thought was kind of odd, so I said you were working out back. Anyway, he came in through the front, and he may have looked toward the woods, but that’s something most people would do anyway. I wasn’t watching him closely when he came into the kitchen, but he could have been checking out the views from the windows on that side of the house and what it would be possible to see, while I made coffee—my back was to him then. That’s the problem I’m having: everything he did seemed perfectly ordinary, more or less what an innocent person would do. He didn’t even comment on the goats or ask for a tour of the place. He asked his phony questions, thanked me politely, and went on his way. What now?”

  Seth sighed. “I vote for calling Art. It’d be a waste of time to talk to Marcus just now, because he probably wouldn’t believe you. Your story’s pretty thin, and he could argue that you simply misjudged this Justin character.”

  “Yes, I could see that happening. You want to call Art or should I?”

  “I’ll do it.” Seth got up, phone in hand, and walked into the dining room to call.

  Meg didn’t move—she just sat and thought. She wouldn’t have believed herself either. She wasn’t exactly a skittish woman, fearful of strangers, jumping at every unfamiliar noise—and in a house this old there were plenty of those. But Marcus might not yet know her well enough to realize that. It would be much easier for him to dismiss what she said as the paranoid statements of a ditzy woman. Even one
who had helped solve more than one murder with him.

  Did this Justin look like a killer? No, he looked like a preppie. Of course, there were plenty of preppie killers, and their outward appearance and demeanor made it easy for them to get close to their victims. Meg hadn’t paid much attention to Justin’s listed credentials on the paper’s website, but she’d be willing to bet that he’d attended an Ivy League school or two as he battled his way up the journalism ladder.

  Seth returned quickly. “He’ll be here in half an hour—he’s got some other stuff to do. It’s not like he’s got any reason to arrest Justin.”

  “I didn’t think he did. I do think Art needs to hear my story, that’s all. It corroborates what he’s heard from other people. I hate to throw cold water on all of this, but we’re a long way from showing who killed Jenn. So this Justin knew her, and he worked at the paper with her, in some capacity. There seem to be a lot of people working there. We’ve been over this before—there are multiple reasons why Justin would be wondering where she was now, and not all those reasons point toward murder. I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this. It could be pure coincidence.”

  “Meg, do you really believe that?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Finally she said, “No, I don’t. Too many coincidences.”

  • • •

  Art’s half hour dragged out to a full hour, and Meg threw together some quick sandwiches—and made more coffee. Surely there was something else she could be drinking, at least some of the time? But if she was honest with herself, she’d have to admit she was pretty much addicted to caffeine. She wasn’t proud of it.

  When Art arrived he came in the back, as usual. “So, Meg, you’ve got something for me?”

  “Yes, I think so. I hope so. Before I start, do you have anything new?”

  “I have learned a whole lot about drug trafficking and who’s running the show for the baddies in Massachusetts,” Art told her. “I don’t recognize any of the players, and I haven’t seen or heard of any of them in Granford. For which I count myself lucky—I wouldn’t want to mess with those people.”

  “Are they all scruffy thugs, or do some of them look like you and me?” Meg asked.

  “Ah, Meg, don’t take away my fantasies—I don’t want them to look ordinary. I want them to look like criminals that I can spot from a mile away. I know, that’s not realistic. So hit me with your story.”

  “First, can I get you some coffee?” Meg started out smiling, but after a couple of seconds she burst out laughing. “That seems to be the answer to everything. Any way to get truth serum into the stuff? It would make your job a lot easier.”

  “That it would,” Art agreed. “But also kind of illegal.”

  “You’re no fun! Anyway, here’s what happened.” And for a second time Meg outlined her encounter with Justin. Seth sat a few feet away but didn’t interrupt. Art listened intently. When Meg finished, Art said, “He didn’t do anything wrong, correct?”

  “No,” Meg replied. “He was polite, and thanked me. But he lied. He didn’t know I knew he was lying. Why would he lie, if he didn’t have some ulterior motive?”

  “I can’t say. I haven’t had any other reports of a guy looking for his girlfriend since the first one, and he certainly hasn’t come to me. Neither of you mentioned the murder, right?”

  “Of course not. Is there anything I should do?”

  “Beyond telling an officer of the law who’s a fringe member of the murder investigation?” Art smiled ruefully. “No, not really. I could pass it on to Marcus, but he’s not particularly fond of Granford at the moment. The longer this drags on, the worse it looks for him. And me, for that matter, but nobody in town here expects me to solve a lot of murders.”

  “So I’ve done my civic duty, and that’s it?” Meg asked, exasperated.

  “Yup. I’m sorry, Meg. Your information may in fact be important, but Marcus is not in any mood to hear it.”

  “End of story,” Meg said glumly. “Any drug busts locally?”

  Art shook his head. “It’s not like they’ve been bringing bales of weed or bricks of heroin worth millions into the area. Prescription drugs are more popular these days, I think, and much easier to conceal and distribute.”

  “Has anyone in Granford talked to you about drugs?”

  “You mean, reported suspicious activity, things like that?” Art asked.

  “I suppose. I mean, I wouldn’t know what to look for. All the cop shows I’ve seen seem to take place in a big city, in a neighborhood I wouldn’t go near. It’s hard for me to visualize drug dealers in Granford.”

  “Obviously looks are deceiving, if the narcotics unit is anywhere near right.” Art sighed. “Anything else you’d like to say?”

  “Not really,” Meg told him.

  Larry came in the back door and stopped when he saw Art sitting at the table. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “That’s okay—I’m about done here,” Art told him. “Keep in touch, all of you, and let me know if you see anything or anyone suspicious.”

  “Thanks, Art. I’ll walk you out,” Seth volunteered.

  “Do you want anything to eat, Larry?” Meg asked.

  “Nah, Seth got some sandwiches. Who was that guy who stopped by earlier?”

  Larry had noticed her visitor? Interesting. “He said his name was Justin and he was looking for his girlfriend Jenn. Art said before that someone had told him the same story, about a guy looking for a girl. This was right around the time Seth found Jenn dead. Why do you want to know? Do you know him?”

  “No, but I’ve seen him at the house a time or two, in the past week, maybe. When I was around, I mean, which I’m not all the time.”

  Meg felt a small jolt of electricity. Jenn had died less than a week earlier, but Larry had seen Justin earlier than that? And in this neighborhood? Something didn’t add up. “Does he know any of the other guys?”

  “I’m not sure who he was there to see—mostly I stay in my room, when I’m not working here. Maybe he was just asking the same questions he asked you—where’s his girlfriend. But he came by more than once. He’s not from around here?”

  “No, he says he’s from Boston.”

  “Not a lot of people stop in Granford,” Larry pointed out.

  “True. They pass right through and go to Amherst or Northampton. Though now and then they stop at the restaurant here, thank goodness. I want that to stay open.”

  “I’ve never eaten there—costs too much.”

  Meg decided to change the subject while she digested what Larry had told her about Justin at the house. No point in digging for more information from Larry because he obviously didn’t seem to have any.

  “How’s the tiny house coming?” Meg asked.

  “Good. I’ve never watched anybody build a house from the ground up. This one’s almost like a toy, because it’s so little. But that makes it easy to understand how it all fits together.”

  “I’d guess it’s a good place to start learning. With an old house like this, fixing or adding anything is always complicated because so many people have made so-called improvements in the past. And a lot of them were amateurs.”

  “I bet.” Larry hesitated a moment. “You think it means something that this Justin guy was up at the house?”

  So Larry had picked up on her reaction to that news? Meg considered how to answer. “You’re saying you saw him more than once? And not just in the last week or so, but earlier?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I wasn’t writing down dates or anything. Hey, a lot of people come and go at the place. The guys like to party, and they’ve got a lot of friends. I don’t know if they get any work done, at least the ones in school.”

  Something felt wrong about what Larry had just said. “When you say they come and go, do they hang around long, or are they in and out?”

  Larry shrugged. “I can’t say—like I told you, I usually go to my room and shut the door when it gets crazy. And sometimes put o
n headphones. So I don’t hear much.”

  Larry wouldn’t hear cars coming and going. Meg was willing to guess that the guys who dropped by weren’t there to see Larry, but she wasn’t going to ask him. Why rub his nose in the fact that he didn’t have any friends? “I know you have a car, Larry. Do the other guys?”

  “Two of ’em do, but they’re not always working. Mike doesn’t, but he can usually get a ride from someone. Worst case, he walks up to the main road and catches a bus. Why do you want to know?”

  “Just wondering. I don’t notice much traffic down here, but mostly the windows are closed, and the furnace makes a lot of noise when it’s running, which is most of the time these days. Maybe I’ll notice more in the spring, when the windows are open.”

  “Why does Seth bother to rent it out at all?” Larry asked. “I mean, it’s great for me, but it’s got to be a lot of hassle for him. And you, I guess. Do you need the money?”

  “Well, it’s always nice to have a little extra money coming in, but I think Seth—who’s a born and bred Yankee—thought it was a waste to see it sitting empty when he could make some cash from it. He’ll probably sell it eventually, but he and his family have a lot of history there, and it’s hard for him to give it up. And while his mother, who lives on the other side, says the choice is up to him, she might not want strangers as neighbors. You never know who you’re going to get. It’s all up in the air, anyway. We’ve only been married a couple of months, so we haven’t made up our minds about what we’re going to do.”

  “Sure—makes sense. Hey, I’d better get to work out back if we want to get this finished anytime soon.”

  “Go right ahead.”

  Chapter 16

  Meg and Seth ate a quiet dinner in the kitchen, trying to avoid talking about the murder. It wasn’t easy.

  “It seems like all we do is talk to other people, and each one contributes a very small piece of information, but I can’t make all the pieces fit together,” Meg complained. “And then there’s trying to keep straight who knows what, and who shouldn’t know what but does, and we can’t talk about various things but we already know about them. The whole blasted mess makes my head hurt.”