Page 61 of Sugar & Shadows

Every person at the table nodded sagely.

“Oh shit,” the woman on the phone almost shouted. A door slammed and a dog barked in the background, and when she spoke again, her tone was urgent. “I forgot to tell you. George Redgrave bought the biggest estate in Birch Hollow last week. A four-million-dollar property. Gated, cameras, panic room, helipad, the works. One of those ‘I know where the bodies are buried’ types of places.”

“Who’s that?” Sabrina asked.

“Chief finance officer at Arcadian Biotech,” Meg said.

Sabrina’s eyes widened. “They own AgriNova.”

My mind flashed to conversations I’d had with Josh not all that long ago. A guy named McDevitt pressuring local farmers to try some new product. Rumors of some kind of partnership with Sugar Moon Maple. Reports from Canada about yield issues last year.

“It’s not that suss,” Nina said easily. “Fancy rich people buy weekend and ski properties up here all the time.”

Birch Hollow, which paled in comparison to Maplewood in every other way, had one major advantage. It was within twenty minutes of several of the top ski resorts in the state.

“Yes.” Meg’s typing echoed from the speakerphone. “But this isn’t ‘random exec. buys ski chalet.’ This is more ‘shady finance bro quietly acquires strategic asset.’ Different genre altogether.”

More typing, the speed of which was impressive.

“And,” she continued, “he also invested in the new hotel in town. He bought a boat for the lake. And, two months ago, he made a five-figure donation to a very specific cause.”

“Donation?” I asked.

Meg hummed. “To the Birch Hollow Maple Festival Committee.”

“But they only moved the festival a couple of weeks ago,” Laurie said innocently.

All around the room, eyes darted from person to person.

“Motherfucker,” Marigold shouted. “They were in on it.”

“The town has the cyber security infrastructure of a middle school drama club, so I’ll keep digging. I should have no trouble getting a clear picture⁠—”

“Nothing illegal.” I was still working to process all this information, and knowing that the change of venue had been set in motion for a lot longer than I’d realized knocked me back a little.

So many parts of this were connected. The festival. The agro products. A four-million-dollar property.

What the hell? We were just a small town in Vermont.

“I’m insulted,” Meg said. “I operate within nuanced legal framework.”

I dragged a hand over my face. “What does that mean?”

She let out a sigh. “It means I don’t do anything that would trigger a grand jury indictment. I may cause concern and tiptoe in ethical gray areas, but not enough to convict.”

Nina snorted. Marigold’s brows shot up like she was impressed.

“My methods are flexible,” Meg explained. “And I once helped a Sicilian municipality recover three years of tax revenue stolen by the mafia, so technically I’m a public servant.”

I cringed. “I don’t want to know what that took.”

“Hacking a foreign government is easier than you’d think,” Sabrina explained, as if that would make me feel batter.

“They emailed me a thank-you note,” Meg said cheerfully. “And a twenty-pound wheel of aged Parmesan. So we’re good.”

Good? I wasn’t so sure. In fact, panic had set in. What had I gotten myself, and this town, into?

“I’ll just poke around. See if anything was accidentally left unlocked,” Meg continued.