“Maybe the steamships sailing through Kansas wheat fields don’t have rodents, but all ocean-going vessels do,” he said curtly.
Annabelle obligingly set down the cat but turned her attention back to him. “Tell me more about the fake applesauce. Caroline tried to explain, but I can’t understand how someone can disguise pumpkins as applesauce. They taste completely different.”
“With enough sweeteners and chemicals, the Magruders managed to pull it off. My job is to stop them.”
“Have you tasted it?”
“I don’t willingly poison myself,” he said dryly.
“I want to try it,” she said, a hint of excitement in her face.
He was mildly appalled but curious to see if she had the nerve to actually go through with it. He wasn’t the only one. Otis had already vaulted off the bench.
“I’ll go down to the hold and get a jar,” Otis said and headed out the door before Gray could stop him.
It left him uncomfortably alone with Annabelle, and he didn’t know what to say to her. It had been a month since that horrible afternoon by the koi pond. Was he supposed to keep being rude to her? Ignore her? Both seemed petty, but he couldn’t forgive her either.
“How did you sleep?” he finally asked once the silence became unbearable.
“The hammock was ... well, a little terrifying at first. But I loved it. It felt scary and safe at the same time. Is that possible?”
“I suppose.” He shrugged, but it was maybe the most accurate description of a hammock he’d ever heard.
The silence started to stretch again, but mercifully Otis returned, along with other members of the crew eager to witness the opening of the Magruder applesauce. Otis set the jar in front of Annabelle.
“What do you think of the label?” Gray asked, watching closely.
This was their first test. He needed to see how people responded to the presentation Luke had designed. She seemed amused by the drawing on the front, looking both charmed and a little appalled by the happy mice frolicking around the pumpkin. Then she turned the jar around, and her eyes widened as she read the list of ingredients on the back.
“Formaldehyde?” she asked.
“Do you still want to try it? No one will blame you if you don’t.”
“Imustknow what it tastes like,” she said, twisting the lid, which made a satisfying pop as she lifted it off. At least the Magruders properly sealed their jars. She held the contents to her nose. “It smells like apples,” she said as she passed the jar to others.
Gray was curious too and waited for the jar to come to him. The glass was cool in his hand as he held it to his face. The contents both looked and smelled like applesauce, probably because the pumpkin had been stewed in apple cider. He poured some into a bowl, then passed it to Annabelle along with a spoon. He sank onto the bench opposite her, watching carefully as she first sniffed the concoction, then poked it with the spoon.
She took a tiny taste, her eyes widening in surprise. She held it in her mouth for a moment before swallowing.
“It’s good,” she said.
Captain Haig looked taken aback. “Are you sure? You read the ingredients. You know what’s in that slop.”
Annabelle took another bite, a bigger one this time. “It’s quite good. Very sweet, and the consistency is exactly like applesauce.”
“All the more reason to get it off the market,” Gray said. “The Magruders set low prices, and if it still tastes good, people will buy it up and never realize the chemical cocktail they are ingesting.”
“I’ll need some jars to take toGood Housekeeping,” she said.“They have an experimental kitchen where they test products for food purity.”
“What’s an experimental kitchen?” He’d never heard the term, and it piqued his interest.
Annabelle brightened. “It’s a new initiative at the magazine.Good Housekeeping’seditor was at the Department of Agriculture just last month to explain how it’s going to work.”
He listened in amazement to the plans for the magazine to start testing products for purity and efficacy. The editor believed that much of the nation’s food, toiletries, and other household products were either fraudulent or dangerous, and intended to use the magazine to get the message out.
While Gray didn’t like the prospect of the government nosing into private business, a magazine was a different story. If they reviewed a product, like a book or a theater review, it seemed perfectly fair.
“I like this idea of having a magazine conduct impartial tests,” he admitted. “Perhaps a visit toGood Housekeepingwould be worth the trip.” Springfield was three hours west of Boston, but Caroline was right. He couldn’t afford to ignore this potential alliance.
