In the flickering fluorescent light, Nolan looked haunted. His face gaunt and pale.
“I’ve got to run through these questions with you.” With a weighted sigh, he dropped into his chair. “Obviously you know we’re investigating the death of Will McManus.”
My gut twisted as I settled into one of the uncomfortable chairs across from him. “You said I wasn’t a suspect.”
“You’re not,” he said, his focus fixed on the notebook in front of him. “Chief Ashburn sent over the schedule. You were on shift at the firehouse. In fact, it looks like you did a forty-eight-hour shift for the Maple Festival.”
I roughed a hand through my hair. “We’re short staffed.”
He huffed. “Aren’t we all.” He hit the button on the voice recorder and a red light flashed, then he said, “Tell me more about your work on the farm.”
Elbows on the armrests, I laced my fingers in front of me. “I help out part time. Josh tells me what to do and I do it. Mostly, I check lines. I can change tubing and repair leaks quickly, so he likes to take advantage of that. When I’m working, I usually walk the property and check the tubing, especially when we have a surge of sap flow.”
He looked up at me from beneath his brows. “And that’s dependent on the weather?”
“Yes. Sap flow occurs when daytime temps reach forty degrees. The combination of warmer days and below freezing nights is what makes the sap run. It’s different every year.”
“And Will McManus?”
“I’m so sorry he’s dead.” My heart ached in earnest and heat burned at the backs of my eyes. “He was a good kid. Worked for us off and on for years. Usually as seasonal help. He always seemed eager to learn more.”
I’d had little interaction with him over the years, though it didn’t take more than a few minutes to realize that he was a hard worker. From what I’d heard, he’d taken a job at Sugar Moon this year, making deliveries, doing pickups, and swinging by to check yield. That sort of thing.
“Can you remember the last time you saw him?”
I scratched my chin. My stubble was beginning to turn into a beard. Damn. Chief Ashburn would have my ass if I didn’t shave soon. “Probably a few days before he died. Maple syrup is shelf stable for years, but the sap is perishable. During the season, we have to collect it every day. Since we sell to Sugar Moon and they boil and process, their delivery guys were at our farm daily.”
“And Will was one of the delivery guys?”
“Yes. I saw him on and off. It’s hard to say. April was busy because of that March snowstorm. Delayed the sap season, and so we were late this year. Filled a lot of barrels. Will came by with the Sugar Moon truck for a pickup, and we got it all loaded.Murph and Tom, the guys who work for Josh, see him more than I do. Sorry I can’t be much help.”
He shook his head, scribbling notes in his pad. “You’re helping more than you realize. You’ve got insight into how all the maple stuff works. You’re close to it.”
I grunted. “Not that close. If you want all the nitty gritty, ask Josh. He’s the science guy.”
“I have,” Nolan said, still scribbling. “What do you think happened?” He finally looked up at me fully.
Confusion hit me. Why would he ask me that? I was a firefighter, not law enforcement. I didn’t care about the why or the how. My concern was getting everyone out alive.
“I thought this wasn’t an interrogation.” I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest.
“It isn’t.” He mirrored my posture. “It’s me being curious about whether your reputation is deserved.”
My lips twitched. “Which reputation? Smartass or idiot who can fix anything but himself?”
Nolan barked out a laugh. “Thanks. I needed that.”
Reality settled back in quickly, the mood turning somber again. As I looked at the paper filled with chicken scratch, I thought about Will. “He wasn’t sneaky or secretive. But he was young. Maybe he trusted the wrong person,” I guessed. “If he went out to meet someone late at night, it had to be because he trusted them.”
“And,” I continued, “if it happened where you think it did. Then that person knew those back roads. The ones past the old logging cut. No cameras, no motion lights, no houses for miles. You can kill your engine at the bend and roll down the hill if you really wanted to be quiet.”
Nolan put the pen down and rolled his shoulders a few times. “Thank you. You wouldn’t believe the crap I’ve got to dig through to get insights like that.”
“Try me.”
“The tip line is a shit show. Half the town’s lost its mind.”
A low laugh rumbled out of me. “Only half?”
