Wedding bells are ringing for Meg and Seth in the latest Orchard Mystery from the New York Times bestselling author of Picked to Die … The fall harvest may be just about over, but orchard owner Meg Corey is busier than ever planning her wedding to Seth Chapin. Who knew picking apples would be less work than picking out rings and a dress? And even though the happy couple has invited most of Granford, Massachusetts, to the ceremony, they might have to make room for one more guest… Ex-con Aaron Eastman has unexpectedly reappeared in his hometown, searching for answers to the tragic fire in his family’s past that put him behind bars twenty-five years ago. Moved by his sincerity, Meg vows to do everything she can to help him solve the cold case. As she cobbles together the clues, it becomes increasingly clear that Aaron may have been considered the bad seed of the family, but someone else was one bad apple… Includes Delicious Recipes! Praise for the New York Times bestselling Orchard mysteries “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, national bestselling author of the Chocoholic Mysteries “The premise and plot are solid, and Meg seems a perfect fit for her role.”— Publishers Weekly “A reliable cast of characters support Meg and make this a strong series that continues its streak of compelling plots.”— Kings River Life “Really well written…I was constantly kept guessing. This series is in its stride, and I’m eagerly awaiting the next book in this series.”— Fresh Fiction Sheila Connolly is the New York Times bestselling, Anthony and Agatha award–nominated author of the Orchard Mysteries ( Picked to Die ,  Golden Malicious ), the Museum Mysteries ( Razing the Dead ,  Monument to the Dead ), and the County Cork Mysteries ( Scandal in Skibbereen ,  Buried in a Bog ). She has taught art history, structured and marketed municipal bonds for major cities, worked as a staff member on two statewide political campaigns, and served as a fundraiser for several nonprofit organizations. She also managed her own consulting company, providing genealogical research services. In addition to genealogy, Sheila loves restoring old houses, visiting cemeteries, and traveling. Now a full-time writer, she thinks writing mysteries is a lot more fun than any of her previous occupations.  Acknowledgments 1 “Hey, ladies, how’re you doing?” Meg Corey leaned on the fence that surrounded the goat pen outside her house and watched her two goats, Dorcas and Isabel, munching on their hay. They stared back with their weird eyes, then returned to pulling out clumps of hay from the bale. “I know, food is more interesting than I am,” Meg said. Still, she kept watching, mostly because she could: for the first time in the past few months, she had the leisure to pursue unimportant things, like goat-watching. The harvest from her orchard was almost complete, with only a few apples lingering on the trees now in November. She’d put in plenty of hours picking apples alongside her hired pickers and her orchard manager, Bree, and now she gave herself the right to take a break. She was management, wasn’t she? Not that the goats seemed to care, as long as their food showed up on time. But after a few more minutes, she was feeling the chill in the autumn air. A cup of coffee sounded good. Meg turned around to head for her kitchen door—and came face-to-face with an unfamiliar creature. Its head was about five feet off the ground, and it was covered with fuzzy wool. Not a sheep—she would recognize that, and besides, its neck was too long. Short ears, doe-like eyes. It regarded her steadily, checking her out much as she was checking it out. “Seth?” she called out. The last time she’d seen her fiancé, Seth Chapin, he’d gone up the stairs to his office over the shed at the back end of the driveway. Of course, if the windows were shut he probably couldn’t hear her. At the sound of her voice, the animal had taken a startled step backward, but it was still staring at her. “Seth?” she called a bit more loudly. She heard a window opening, and Seth stuck his head out. “You want something?” “Uh, we have company?” she told him, waving her hand at Large Fuzzy Creature. Creature had turned its head toward Seth at the sound of his voice, but now returned to its steady contemplation of Meg. She could have sworn that Seth smiled, but all he said was, “Be right down.” She heard the window shut again. The goats had come over to the fence line and were now doing their own checking out of the newcomer, who showed no particular interest in them. He—or she?—seemed to prefer Meg. She thought briefly about trying to shoo it away, but it didn’t look hostile, or seem afraid of humans, and she wasn’t sure where it belonged or whic