Golden Malicious (Apple Orchard Mystery) (17 page)

Clean once again, Meg headed out to the local market to pick up sandwiches and assorted juices and sodas, then found her way to Nash’s sawmill with only a couple of wrong turns. Jonas and Seth were waiting outside, talking; Seth waved when he spotted her. Neither one looked upset, if she was reading their body language right. Seth came over to take some of the bags with the food and drinks, and Meg seized the moment to ask, “Have you asked him anything yet?”

“No, I just got here myself. We’ve been discussing Donald’s requests for matching moldings, but that’s as far as we’ve gotten.”

“Okay.” Meg raised her voice. “Hi, Jonas. Ready for a late lunch? Or is it an early dinner?”

“Either one works for me. Come on in,” Jonas said amiably. “I hear you’re air-conditioning deprived.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Distributing food and drinks occupied several minutes, and Seth kept the conversation light until they had nearly finished their sandwiches. Jonas kept eyeing them, but he didn’t ask any questions until he’d balled up the wrappings from the meal and thrown them away. Then he sat back in his chair and said, “Okay, what’s this really about?”

Seth avoided answering him directly. “Jonas, have you received anything from the USDA this week?”

“Like what? A letter? An announcement? I haven’t had a chance to go through my mail for a couple of days. Let me check.” Jonas stood up and went to his paper-covered desk and rifled through a couple of piles until he pulled out an express envelope. He ripped it open and read the single page he pulled from inside. Then he came back and sat down, looking bewildered.

“What does this mean?”

Seth answered. “I got one like it, at the town office. The government is officially informing you that they have found an invasive species of insect on your property or properties.”

Jonas looked stunned. “Asian longhorned beetle? Here? Damn, that’s bad news.”

“Yes, it is,” Seth said gravely.

Jonas seemed to be having trouble processing what he was reading. “So these inspectors, they’ve been tramping around here, and that woodlot, looking for bugs? Can they do that?”

“I don’t know all the legal details, but since both places are nominally open to the public—you give tours here, and there are picnic facilities at the other site—they believe they have the right. You haven’t seen anyone out looking?”

“Not that I’ve noticed, but we’re talking a lot of acres. And I haven’t been around my office much.” Jonas glanced at Seth’s face. “There’s more,” he said flatly.

“I’m afraid so,” Seth replied. “They’ve found infestations on both of your properties.” Meg waited for Seth to explain about the curious timing and was surprised when he didn’t. Instead he said, “You know about this pest? Have you seen any around here? Say, on one of your woodlots?”

“I know about it in general terms, after what’s happened in Worcester and Shrewsbury, but I haven’t spent a lot of time walking through the woods the past couple of years. You know I’ve contracted that side of things out.”

Jonas appeared sincerely surprised, but Meg wasn’t going to go on her first impression. She didn’t know the man—she’d have to wait for Seth’s take. Meg said, “They’ve confirmed its presence on that lot and in a Granford park. Do you know what that means?”

Jonas scrubbed his hands over his face. “Of course. They’re going to want to cut down a lot of my trees. Damn. That’ll probably be the last straw. Same thing with the town park, Seth?”

“Yes,” Seth said, “and that doesn’t make me very happy either—that park is used a lot. But I think there are some bigger issues here.”

Seth looked at Meg, who explained, “Jonas, I found a dead beetle near David Clapp’s body last week and brought it to the attention of Christopher Ramsdell at the university, who reported it to the authorities.” She took a breath and continued. “Do you have any reason to believe that David Clapp’s death is connected with the beetle that was found next to him?”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying,” Jonas said. “You think he found it?”

“Or he put it there.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

“Jonas, you tell us,” said Seth. “You know what it means if your property is found to be infested: you lose a lot of trees. Your business is shaky anyway, so that could shut you down. You just said so.”

“Are you saying you think I killed David Clapp to shut him up? C’mon, Seth, you should know me better than that. He worked for me for years. My kids hang out with his—they compete in Little League. Besides, I thought it was a stupid accident—he tripped and fell. There haven’t been any cops coming around and questioning me, after that first time.”

“It may well have been an accident, Jonas. Did you and David part on good terms?”

“Sure. He knew my financial situation, and I recommended him to the company he was working for. Everybody won—he knew my trees, and I trusted him to make good choices for cutting. Hell, I went to his funeral. You can’t think I’d do anything to David?”

“I don’t. But if not you, then who would want to keep him quiet about the insect? Look, didn’t you tell me something about talking with a developer about selling the land?”

“I have been, for this site, in a very preliminary way. What’s the connection?”

“How would losing a lot of your trees affect its value to a developer?”

Jonas leaned precariously back in his chair and shut his eyes. “We’ve been talking about a high-end residential development—you know, big houses on big lots. If a lot of the trees were gone, they might think they could get it at a lower price. But to kill someone to knock off a few thousand bucks? I can’t believe that.” He leaned forward again and looked directly at Seth. “I can’t believe any of this. I’ve been careful with my properties. You know that, Seth. I’ve worked with the state to meet their standards. I’ve made it available for public use. I’m a friend to every bunny and birdie out there. How could something like this pest have slipped in without my noticing?”

Seth glanced briefly at Meg, and she assumed he was trying to warn her off from saying anything about what Christopher had told them. Then he responded to Jonas. “We all have a lot of questions, Jonas. We’re learning about it as we go along. Since the town park is infested, too, it’s not just your problem. It’s not clear where David’s death fits. Maybe there’s a connection, maybe not. The police are not pushing the investigation very hard, and I can’t say I blame them—there’s not much physical evidence, and as you say, they haven’t come back to you about it. Maybe it would help all of us if you could tell us what you know about David Clapp.”

“I’ve told everything I know to the state police,” Jonas protested. “More than once. I knew him, I worked with him, I liked him. I never had any reason to distrust him. How much do you know about commercial logging, Seth? Meg?”

“Not much,” Seth said.

“Almost nothing,” echoed Meg.

Jonas paused a moment to gather his thoughts. “All right. The Nashes have owned land around here since before the town of Granford existed. If you know anything about Massachusetts history, you know that the forests that the first settlers found were pretty much cut down, and then after some decades of farming, the forests came back, and right now are going strong.”

“Yes, Seth explained that to me,” Meg said. “Go on.”

“The sawmill’s been operating for more than a century, and the family still owns plenty of forest around here to supply it. But after four generations, there are a lot of members of the extended family who are holding bits and pieces of that land, and the operation doesn’t generate enough income to support everyone, so they’ve gotten regular jobs. Besides, not a lot of people want to go into logging these days. Some time ago, all the Nash owners got together and decided to hire a forest management organization to take care of it for us—for a fee, of course, but we still make money.”

“How does that work?” Meg asked.

“The organization has both foresters and managers on staff. They follow sustainable forest management practices and look after all aspects, including when and what to cut. Only a small portion comes to our sawmill, which as I mentioned is pretty much for demonstration these days—although Seth’s bought a lot of specialty products from us over the past few years. But the rest of the lumber, the forest management company sells to the highest bidder, which can change over time. Everybody wins: we know that our forests are being managed responsibly, and they make money from it and so do we. They can afford to look at the big picture because they manage so many properties—they aren’t dependent on any one lot or even region.”

“But you still hold title to the land,” Seth asked.

“Yes, although we have a long-term contract with the company. We could have sold it to them outright, but then we could have lost control of it. There are companies around who will buy a forest, clear-cut it, sell the lumber, and walk away, and that’s not good for the community. Maine and Vermont have enacted legislation to prevent that, in the last decade.”

“And if you sell?” Seth said.

“A developer would want this lot. As for the woodlots, most likely it would be directly to the management company, because they’ve done a good job with them and I think they’d be fair on the price. It’s not like I’m putting it on the open market.”

Seth nodded, once. “This is great information, Jonas,” he said, “but we’re kind of getting away from our original question. Who gets hurt, or, conversely, who’d benefit if there’s an infestation of beetles and the government steps in and cuts down a lot of trees?”

“Not me, that’s for sure.”

“Has anybody—either your management company or someone from outside—come looking to buy any of your forest property recently?”

“No. At least, nobody’s approached me about those, just the sawmill lot. Nobody else in the family has mentioned any approach, although I can’t speak to how they would feel about selling.”

“Let me get this straight,” Meg interrupted. “It’s the management company, not you, who hires the loggers who actually choose and cut down the trees?”

“That’s right. I know the company tries to use local staff, so they were happy to have David. Those guys usually come and go on their own schedules. Sometimes, if they were going to be working near the sawmill, they’d give us a heads-up, but it was more a courtesy than a requirement. I’ve had nothing to complain about since we’ve been working with them. Is any of this helpful? Like I told the police, I have no idea why David was found dead. He hadn’t told me he’d be around, but he wasn’t obligated to tell me. He had every right to be on the property, but I can’t say if there was a planned cutting anytime soon, and that would be the only reason for him to be there. Look, I told the police all this, so I assume they talked to the logging company. They haven’t come back to me with any more questions.”

“The autopsy was inconclusive,” Seth said.

“And why do you know that, or care?” Jonas demanded.

Seth met Jonas’s look squarely. “Because it happened in my town. Because Meg was the one who found him, and we’ve had some experience with murders around here lately.” He glanced briefly at her. “I would have been content to let the staties handle it, until this beetle thing came up. Now I’m wondering if there’s something more going on.” Before Jonas could protest, Seth held up a hand. “I know, there’s no obvious connection. But I’m bothered by the way this is playing out. Look, as I understand it, generally these insects can be traced to some initial point of origin, most often shipping containers. In the case of our town park, someone could have brought them in with firewood. That might be the case for picnics at your woodlot, but not here at the sawmill, right?”

“No, or at least not in theory. I don’t allow fires here, but that doesn’t mean that people don’t sneak in and build them anyway. But why would they need to bring in wood? There’s plenty of dead stuff lying around there.”

Meg had been watching the volley silently. Seth was doing his best to be impartial. But he hadn’t yet mentioned that maybe the beetles had been deliberately introduced, which would tip the discussion a different direction. What would be gained by infesting Jonas’s land? Particularly if Jonas wanted to sell it and he seemed to have a willing buyer in the wings? She could already see more than one possibility. One, Jonas didn’t really want to sell and was contaminating the land to give himself an out. Two, somebody else held a grudge against Jonas and was trying to hurt his business, or if they already knew he was in financial straits, make sure it closed. Three, some buyer had his eye on the land and was trying to drive down the price. The last would work if the buyer wasn’t a logging company but someone else entirely—like that developer Jonas had mentioned. Was that the same developer that had approached Seth recently about land in the center of Granford?

“Jonas, who else knows you’re thinking of selling?” Meg said suddenly.

He looked at her as though he had forgotten she was there. “I’ve mentioned it to a few family members, but I haven’t done anything official yet. As I said, the sawmill has been in the family for four generations, and the land longer than that. It’s something of a local institution. I don’t want to sell, but I’m not sure there’s any alternative.”

“How much would the value drop if you lost all the maples, and maybe some other trees, too?”

“I don’t know, specifically. Maybe twenty percent? From what I’ve heard, no one can use the trees that are cut down for anything other than wood chips. What a waste.”

They all sat silently for a few moments. Meg could think of nothing more to say, and she didn’t want to give anything away by asking the wrong question. Since Seth hadn’t chosen to share the deliberate infestation information, she wasn’t about to either. Besides, she was still trying to think through what it might mean.

Jonas stood up abruptly. “Hey, guys, I appreciate your coming by and telling me about this, even if I don’t want to hear it. Can you keep the fact that I’m thinking about selling quiet for now? What you’ve said may mean I have to rethink some things.”

Seth stood up as well. “Of course. Look, Jonas, I’ll be really sorry to lose the sawmill. Maybe that’s selfish of me, but you’ve always done good work, and people recognize that. I wish there were more of them who were willing to pay what that’s worth. Let me know if there’s anything I can do—personally or on behalf of the town.”

“I will, and I appreciate the compliments. Meg, someday I’d like to meet you without something awful hanging over us.”

“I know what you mean, Jonas. I’d like that, too.”

They made their farewells, and Meg and Seth trekked back to the parking lot. He was still curiously silent.

“Problem?” Meg said.

“What? Oh, nothing new, I guess. I hate to see the sawmill close. That’s another piece of Granford history lost. And another business. Maybe I picked the wrong time to get into the restoration business, but I figured people would stay where they were and try to preserve their homes. Which is true, until they see the price tag. Donald may be a pain to work with, but he’s really committed to saving what he’s got, and I value that. That, and the fact that he’s willing to foot the bill.”