Table of Contents
Praise for the Orchard Mysteries
“Meg is a smart, savvy woman who’s working hard to fit into her new community—just the kind of protagonist I look for in today’s traditional mystery. I look forward to more trips to Granford, Massachusetts!”
—
Meritorious Mysteries
“An enjoyable and well-written book with some excellent apple recipes at the end.”
—
The Cozy Library
“A wonderful slice of life in a small town . . . The mystery is intelligent and has an interesting twist . . .
Rotten to the Core
is a fun, quick read with an enjoyable heroine, an interesting hook, and some yummy recipes at the end.”
—
The Mystery Reader
(4 stars)
“Full of rich description, historical context, and mystery.”
—
The Romance Readers Connection
“There is a delightful charm to this small-town regional cozy.... Sheila Connolly provides a fascinating whodunit filled with surprises.”
—
The Mystery Gazette
“A true cozy mystery [with] a strong and feisty heroine, a perplexing murder, a personal dilemma, and a picturesque New England setting . . . Meg Corey is a very likeable protagonist and her future in Granford hopefully guarantees some further titles in this delightful new series.”
—
Gumshoe Review
“[An] example of everything that is right with the cozy mystery . . . [A] likable heroine, an attractive small-town setting, a slimy victim, and fascinating side elements . . . There’s depth to the characters in this book that isn’t always found in crime fiction . . . Sheila Connolly has written a winner for cozy mystery fans.”
—
Lesa’s Book Critiques
“A warm, very satisfying read.”
—
Romantic Times
(4 stars)
“The premise and plot are solid, and Meg seems a perfect fit for her role.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Meg Corey is a fresh and appealing sleuth with a bushelful of entertaining problems . . . One crisp, delicious read.”
—Claudia Bishop, bestselling author of
the Inn at Hemlock Falls Mysteries
“[A] delightful look at small-town New England, with an intriguing puzzle thrown in.”
—JoAnna Carl, author of the Chocoholic Mysteries
“Thoroughly enjoyable . . . I can’t wait for the next book and a chance to spend more time with Meg and the good people of Granford.”
—Sammi Carter, author of the Candy Shop Mysteries
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Sheila Connolly
Orchard Mysteries
ONE BAD APPLE
ROTTEN TO THE CORE
RED DELICIOUS DEATH
A KILLER CROP
BITTER HARVEST
Museum Mysteries
FUNDRAISING THE DEAD
LET’S PLAY DEAD
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
BITTER HARVEST
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / August 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Sheila Connolly.
All rights reserved.
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375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN : 978-1-101-51717-8
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1
Meg Corey surveyed the drifts of paper that covered her dining room table, and all but growled with frustration. The harvest was over—her first apple harvest, her first try at farming. Would it be her last? The apples were picked, sorted, and delivered. She’d started in January, and now in December she’d survived storms and accidents, and had learned more than she’d ever realized there was to know about apples and their cultivation. Now the question was, had she made any money, or was this just one extremely expensive hobby? One she couldn’t afford?
In an earlier life she had been a financial analyst. She should be able to sort out the mess of receipts and invoices scattered in front of her. The problem was, she had delegated the task of analyzing the results to Briona Stewart, her orchard manager and housemate—young, untried, and eager Bree. It was Bree’s responsibility, and part of her job description, to manage the financial side of the orchard operations. Unfortunately, Bree might be brilliant when it came to judging when to prune and when to pick, but she was lousy at keeping records, and there were far too many bits of paper with pieces of essential information scribbled on them that Meg couldn’t begin to decipher. She was conscious of year-end looming. Sure, she could wait to file her taxes, but she wanted to keep on the good side of the IRS and the state. More important, she wanted to know whether it was worth going forward with the orchard, or whether she should cut her losses now and find some other way to make a living. If that was even possible in the current economy.
Meg abandoned contemplating the mess of papers when she was interrupted by a knocking at her back door. She went through the kitchen to open it and was greeted by a rush of cold air and Seth Chapin: next-door neighbor, renter of part of her ramshackle outbuildings, and good friend—or more. They were still negotiating the “more” part. But he wasn’t alone; not only had he brought Max, his still-young golden retriever, but Seth also was accompanied by two goats, around whose necks he’d tied a rope so he could control them. Meg recognized the goats because they were hers.
“Missing something?” Seth asked.
“I hadn’t noticed. Where’d you find them?”
“Over at my place. They just showed up and wanted to play with Max. Good thing I was home, or who knows where they might have ended up.”
Meg shuddered as she considered the less pleasant possibilities. “Thank heaven they didn’t head across the road. Or into the woods—some idiot hunter might have decided they were small deer. Well, we’d better get these two back where they belong, and see how much damage they did on the way out. Let me grab a coat.”
Meg reached behind the kitchen door for one of her grubby but warm down-filled jackets, pulling a hat and gloves from various pockets. “Okay, ready.” She closed the door behind her. “Dorcas, Isabel, what were you thinking?” she said, as she took one rope from Seth and led the way to the goat paddock. “I give you nice food and a shelter, and I even talk to you now and then. What more could you want?” The goats gave her sidelong glances but otherwise ignored her.