old queen and a new queen develops in the old hive.”
“It’s alarming to see that many bees in a swarm.”
“They’re not usually aggressive when they swarm. They’ve got other things on their minds.”
He slipped his legs into the white suit and stuck his arms into the sleeves. “That’s not to say they won’t attack when they’re swarming. They will if they’re threatened.”
He pulled the suit over his shoulders, zipped up the front, lifted the hood onto his head, and pulled the gauntlets over his hands.
Victoria watched as he held an open wooden box under the swarm and knocked it gently into the box as if it were some exotic fruit he was harvesting. He closed the lid.
Victoria applauded the performance from her seat.
“You’ve got eight hives now, Mrs. T. At least you will if the bees like their new home.” Sean shed his suit and stowed his tools away. Finished, he found a towel in a corner of the truck, and came over to Victoria’s bench. She moved over to make room for him.
“Hot work,” he said, wiping his face with the towel. “Hear you came down with Lyme disease.”
Victoria nodded.
“Join the gang.” He held out his hand and she shook it. “How’re you doing? That doxycycline make you nauseous?”
“A bit,” said Victoria, and changed the subject. “Do you know Dorothy Roche?”
“Hah!” said Sean. “What makes you ask about her?”
“She invited me to lunch last Saturday.”
“Lucky you.” Sean rubbed his neck with the towel.
“Where does she get her money, do you know?”
He draped the towel around his shoulders. “As far as I know, she doesn’t have two cents to rub together.”
“She lives on North Water Street.”
“Is she paying for it? Or some male friend.”
“What do you know about her?” asked Victoria.
Sean reached down, pulled up a blade of grass, and stuck the end in his mouth. “First saw her maybe three months ago at a selectmen’s meeting.”
“Where Orion spoke?”
“She was in the audience acting like some big deal. Talked to him after and they went off together.”
“She’s investing in his company.”
“Yeah? Has he seen the money?”
“She’s buying a drill rig as a share in the company.”
“She is, hey?” Sean chewed on his grass stem, then tossed it aside. “Has Orion seen a purchase contract?”
“Parnell Alsop drew up a contract.”
“Him!” Sean spit out a strand of chewed grass, stood up, and stretched. “Gotta go, Victoria. Mrs. Wingfield’s got bees in her barn.”
“And honey?”
He nodded. “Any progress on the murder investigation?”
Victoria scowled. “I have no idea. They’re not sharing information with us.” She looked up at him. “Can you save the honey?”
“By the time I get it out of there, if I can melt the wax without burning down her barn, it’ll be full of debris. Worthless.” He got into his truck, rolled down the window, lifted a hand, and took off.
* * *
Finney Solomon stopped by Orion’s office after his breakfast with Dorothy Roche. He plopped into the chair he’d occupied the day before and set his briefcase down.
“How was your breakfast?” Orion asked.
“Impressive woman.” His speech was only slightly slurred. “Knows her stuff. Excellent taste in champagne.” He touched his briefcase with deliberate care. “Whole magnum.”
Orion nodded. “What time’s your flight?”
Finney looked at his watch carefully. “Three o’clock. Not quite two now. I’ve checked out of the hotel.”
“We’ll leave for the airport in a few minutes. Any last-minute odds and ends we need to tie up?”
Finney said, “She’s an important member of your team.”
Orion nodded.
“You signed the contract?” Finney asked.
“Casper signed it and left it for me to look over. I haven’t signed yet.”
“No hurry, far as I’m concerned,” said Finney, brushing an imaginary crumb off his trousers. “Take your time. I’ve got a few items to look