To kill time while waiting for breakfast, I picked up a copy of the Blueberry Cove Herald that someone had left neatly folded on the wide windowsill.
The question of whether Lars had made his deadline yesterday was answered the moment I viewed the front page. SLIP AND FALL—OR WAS IT? screamed the headline. A picture of the cliffs and a headshot of Hailey adorned the text.
Great. Not for the first time, I reflected that Lars was wasted in Blueberry Cove. Surely the tabloids paid better. Despite the cheesy headline, the article was solid, if not providing anything conclusive about Hailey’s death or information beyond what I already knew. He characterized his mention of me as the “local business owner stunned by a grisly discovery while enjoying a sunrise climb in the park.” Madison was the “supportive friend,” and Ian, “the intrepid expert climber who helped with rescue efforts.”
“Breakfast is served.” I looked up to see Sophie standing beside me with a tray. She set my breakfast and two cups of coffee on the table before taking the opposite seat.
“What’s new in the weekly rag?” she asked, picking up her mug and sipping. When I showed her the article, she winced at the headline. “Lars is something else.”
I folded the paper and put it back on the windowsill. “That’s one way of putting it.” Picking up my utensils, I made the first cut into the Belgian Benedict, allowing creamy sauce and egg yolk to flood the deep, crunchy waffle underneath. I took my first mouthful. The flavor was incredible, a blend of sweet and savory balanced by salty ham. Every cell in my body rejoiced.
Sitting with elbows propped as she cradled her cup, Sophie grinned. “I love watching you eat.”
“Really?” I was more gobbler than graceful diner.
“Yep.” Sophie took a sip. “You really enjoy your food. And that’s why I cook.”
I cut off another portion. “Please accept my gratitude for your efforts. This is one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.”
Her grin widened. “Give me a good review on social media, will you?”
“Five stars it is,” I promised. After a couple more bites, I said, “I saw Jake at the pub the other night. Ian and I were in the back hallway when he came in.”
Sophie set down her cup, her face paling. “The night I was there with Lukas?”
I nodded. “I told him Lukas was only a friend. But he wouldn’t go in and talk to you. He left.”
She stared out the window unseeing, fretting her bottom lip with her teeth. “How’d he seem?” she finally asked.
“Not good.” Might as well be honest. “He’s devastated, Soph. I think you should talk to him.”
Hope and fear warred in her gaze. “You think so? What if—” She broke off, swallowed, then shook her head. “No, he’s the one who pulled the plug. He should come to me.” With that, she pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ve got to get back to work.” She tapped the table. “Breakfast is on the house.”
“What? No, I’ll—” Before I could finish my sentence, she was halfway across the room, moving through the tightly packed tables and bodies like the pro she was.
I slumped back in my seat. That didn’t go as well as I hoped. Both of them were stubborn, that was for sure. After a second, I shook off my disappointment. This breakfast was too good to waste.
Up at the counter, Theo Nesbitt was paying for his order. Here was a welcome change of direction. When he turned around to scan the room for a seat, I waved him over. Come into my web, little fly, said the spider.
“That looks good,” I said as Theo settled into the seat across from me. He’d ordered a waffle with maple link sausage on the side.
“Sure does.” He swirled the ball of butter around with his fork, then opened the container of maple syrup and poured. “This is one of my favorite places to eat in town.”
“Mine too,” I said. Sitting back, I drank coffee while he took the first few bites. Not nice to interrogate someone on an empty stomach. Trying not to be obvious, I took a closer look at Hailey’s competitor.
Theo was unimpressive at best, pale and weedy with a lingering air of adolescence. Although he must be in his early twenties if he’d already graduated from college. Not terrible looking, but his eyes were slightly protuberant and his dirty-blond curls were limp and too long.
Was I sitting across from a killer? It was hard to fathom, although murderers came in all sizes and shapes. Some were charming, even—and intelligent. And many were adept at hiding the truth about themselves and their crimes.
Faster than I thought possible, Theo devoured the waffle and sausages. He sat back, resting a hand on his stomach and gave a gentle belch. “Whoops. Sorry.”
With a smile and a shrug, I signaled that I wasn’t offended. My nerves tensed. How to bring up Hailey? Maybe beating around the bush was the best method. “So tell me about your career plans,” I said. “What you’re doing with the seaweed farmers is really cool.”
Ripping open small packets, he added three sugars to his coffee. “Yeah, it sure is. My plan is to learn all the cutting-edge techniques I can and then work developing the seaweed industry in New England.” He picked up the cup and took a slurping gulp. “With all the issues around fishing, seaweed is a great option for diversifying.”
Another familiar face, Brendan Murphy, emerged from the back and began clearing a nearby table. Some customers didn’t realize we were supposed to bus our own dishes. I gave him a wave. Fly number two, if I could catch him.
“Where are you from?” I asked, turning my attention back to Theo.
“New Bedford, Mass.” His mouth twisted in a wry grimace. “So I’ve seen the struggles up close and personal. Relatives of mine are commercial fishermen.”
“I hear that.” New Bedford was one of the region’s major seaports, and as a Maine native I’d certainly watched the ups and downs of the fishing industry with interest. Much of our coastal economy hinged on availability of the lobsters, clams, and haddock our visitors enjoyed. “Tell me about the fellowship you’re hoping to win.”
His gaze dropped and he began to fiddle with the utensils on his plate. “Yeah. Well. Since I’m the only one in the running now, it’s more of a shoo-in.” He sighed. “Just have to work on the finances.”
He didn’t seem happy about winning by default. Interesting. “Was Hailey also hoping to get the fellowship?” Lukas had said so, but I wanted to hear it from Theo.
“Uh-huh.” The fiddling continued. “She had a pretty ruthless attitude about it too. But why should I be surprised? After what she did to me last semester…”
“Which was?” I lifted my cup to my mouth only to find it almost empty. Darn it. I certainly didn’t want to interrupt Theo right now. Getting up for a refill might squash the conversation.
Theo sighed deeply, his bony chest lifting and falling. “I made the mistake of helping her out. She was having trouble in one of our science classes so I agreed to tutor her.”
“And?” I felt like I was dragging the story out of him.
He leaned forward across the table, his features tense with suppressed anger. “And she cheated. She stole my work and turned it in as her own. And get this: she ended up with a better grade than me. And some extra perks.” His voice rose to an offended squawk.
Brendan appeared at my side with a coffeepot. He must have noticed my cup was empty. “Refill?” I nodded yes and as he poured, he said to Theo, “Hailey wasn’t a trustworthy person. But I guess you figured that out, huh?”
“How’d you know Hailey?” Theo asked, staring up at the other young man through his tangled locks.
“I used to date her.” Brendan lifted the pot with a flourish. “Many moons ago.” He held it out to Theo. “Want some?” At Theo’s nod, he dispensed hot coffee into his cup, then sauntered off to another table.
I’d never seen Brendan do the refill circuit, ever. Maybe he’d volunteered on purpose, to talk to Theo about Hailey. Which meant he was eavesdropping while clearing the tables. Understandable. If I heard Ian’s name b
andied about, I’d listen.
“I really didn’t want this,” Theo said with a laugh, pushing the cup away. “But I hated to be rude.” He scraped his chair away from the table. “I’ve got to run. They’re expecting me at the lab.” He picked up his dirty plate. “Want me to take yours?”
“Sure,” I said, setting my plate on top of his. “Thanks. I’ll clear your cup for you.”
I watched as the teaching assistant ambled away, detouring to the bus pan to dump the dishes and silverware. Our conversation was a start at least. No confession yet but what he’d told me only strengthened the motive piece of the equation.
Hailey had obviously been a thorn in Theo’s side for months, trying to best him at every turn. No doubt his mild demeanor and willingness to help had made him an easy target, and once he caught on, he was justifiably upset. But some people didn’t express their anger well. They allowed it to fester inside until it exploded, often with disastrous results.
As a rationale for Theo’s guilt, this theory was plausible—but far from ironclad. No wonder the police hadn’t made an arrest yet. There were plenty of suspects but little real evidence pointing at a specific person. According to Brendan, Hailey wasn’t trustworthy. Who else had she damaged with her schemes?
CHAPTER 14
Across the room, Brendan called to another employee, “I’m going to take my break now.” He set down the empty coffeepot and whipped off his apron while heading toward the kitchen door.
Should I? I hesitated then decided, yes, I should. I cleared the cups, pouring the leftover coffee into a container used for that purpose. Then I hurried out of the restaurant.
As I guessed, Brendan was smoking a cigarette in the side alley, a narrow slice of space between the Bean and the adjacent building. “Hey,” I greeted him. “I’ve been hoping to catch up with you.”
In the midst of inhaling, he cocked a brow. “And why is that?” he said after releasing a stream of smoke. He seemed if not exactly cagey, cautious.
I moved closer, avoiding a puddle of something dubious. As with Theo, I decided to take an indirect approach to the topic of Hailey. “You almost hit me the other morning. On Cliff Road.”
His eyes flared in surprise as he took an instinctive step backward. “That was you?” He took a hasty drag. “I’m sorry, I know I was driving too fast.”
“No harm done,” I said. “But you really should be careful on that scooter.” The vehicle in question was tucked up against the wall, near the kitchen door.
He kicked at a stray clump of asphalt with his toe. “I usually am. So dumb. I was upset so I drove a little crazy.”
“Upset about Hailey?” I held my breath, wondering if he would answer or blow me off. This line of questioning was pretty personal and I barely knew Brendan.
But he must have needed someone to talk to, because he nodded and said, “Yeah, Hailey. My kryptonite, I call her. We went out in high school and hooked up a few times since. Whenever she was around. Summers mostly. I was pretty tired of the sitch, but I didn’t say no when I ran into her the other day.” Still holding the cigarette, he scratched the end of his nose. “Should have, that’s for sure.”
I remembered Hailey approaching Brendan while he was clearing tables on the Grille’s deck. But not wanting to be seen as a nosy creeper, I didn’t mention it. “She was a beautiful girl,” I said instead. “And she had a powerful personality.”
He took another drag. “Yeah. All true. But she could flip on a dime. And when I went out to Shorehaven the other night, at her invitation no less, she was on a tear about something. Not fun. Finally, after drinking with her into the wee hours, I crashed on a couch downstairs.”
“Good call.” Driving a scooter impaired was far too dangerous. I waited a beat before asking, “What was she upset about?” Again, not my business. Hopefully he would bother to answer.
Brendan made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “The usual. Someone wasn’t giving her what she wanted.” He waved the cigarette. “Who, I’m not sure. Or what. She didn’t really say plus we were drinking…” He took a final drag then dropped the butt, stubbing it out with his shoe before carefully picked it up and tossing it into a can labeled SMOKES.
“Did you see her the next morning?” What I was really asking was whether he had gone for a sunrise stroll with her, lost his temper, and pushed her off the cliff. Or alternately, whether he had seen her with someone else, aka the killer.
Instead of answering, he pulled out his cigarette pack and extended it to me. When I shook my head, he shook out another and lit up, the onshore breeze forcing him to cup his hands around the flame.
Was he stalling? Brendan had the fair skin of a natural redhead, and a telltale flush was creeping up his neck. But when he blinked furiously, I realized he had tears in his eyes. “No,” he said, his voice husky. “I got out of there soon as I woke up. I didn’t see Hailey.” He cleared his throat. “But if I had, maybe…”
My stomach sank with a thud. Maybe she would still be alive.
* * *
“Both Theo and Brendan had good reason to resent Hailey,” I said to Grammie a little later, while we were getting ready to open the store. “But I’m having a hard time seeing either of them as a killer.”
“That’s because you’re soft-hearted.” Grammie slid a new roll of register tape into the dispenser. “You don’t want to think anyone could be that evil.” That task complete, she turned on the iPad that served as our point of sale system.
“Very true. I sure don’t.” I slid the last bunch of store bags into their standing slot beneath the counter, and as I straightened, a sticky note on the counter caught my eye. “Oh yeah. I’ve been meaning to research auction houses for Eleanor’s clothing and jewelry. Maybe I’ll have a chance today.” My plan was to identify the houses most likely to show interest—and work hard to get her the most money.
“By the way, I took her jewelry to the bank,” Grammie said, placing the cash drawer inside the register. “It’s now safe and sound in a deposit box.”
“That’s a relief.” I went to the coffee station and measured coffee into a filter basket. We offered coffee and tea to customers, inviting them to sit in the side room if they wanted. Quincy padded over to nudge my ankles, excited by my proximity to his snack tin. “Hold on, you. I’ll give you a treat in a second.”
A rapping on the front door caught our attention. A short, plump woman with a brown bob pressed the edges of both hands and her face into the glass, peering inside. “Now there’s an eager customer,” Grammie said.
Since Grammie was busy logging onto the point of sale system, I went to answer the door. We weren’t officially open for another five minutes but I wasn’t going to be a jerk and make the customer wait. “Good morning,” I said after unlocking the door, which now had nose and lip prints. “Come on in.” I turned the hanging sign to OPEN.
She thrust a piece of paper at me. “Oh, I don’t need to come in. I just wanted to give you my entry form.”
“For the lobster bib contest?” I guessed, accepting the entry.
“Exactly.” She glanced both ways before leaning close and whispering, “Are we restricted as to the materials we use?”
What an odd question. “Um, no, I don’t think so,” I said. “As long as you can wear it.”
She thrust a fist into the air. “Yes. Thanks so much. Ta-ta.” She bounced off down the sidewalk.
“Tell you what, Grammie,” I said, looking over the form. “This contest is really attracting some interesting people.” Including Mr. Buxton, who I owed a text regarding electricity at the event. After giving Quincy his treat, I found the right form in the file folder and sent the message. Then I tucked the folder away for safekeeping.
My cell phone rang in my apron pocket. Sophie. Oops. I was so eager to talk to Brendan I hadn’t paid my check. “Hey, Sophie,” I said. “I still owe you for breakfast.”
“No, it’s fine. I told you it was on the house.” Dishes clattered in
the background and she turned away from the phone for a second. “Sorry. I’m back. I was wondering if you have lunch plans. If not, Lukas and I want to come by. He said he has news about Eleanor’s mother. And I’ll bring Niçoise salad bowls and iced tea.”
“Yum. Love Niçoise.” My heart jumped at the news of Lukas’s progress. “That’s awesome Lukas found something already. See you then.” After I disconnected the call, I gave Grammie the update.
“Oh, excellent,” she said. “I hope Claudia’s story will help when you contact the auction houses.”
“Me too. From what I’ve seen, an interesting provenance can definitely boost interest and prices.” I wandered over to the spinning clothes rack to rearrange the display. The hostess aprons were selling fast, leaving empty spots that I filled with colorful kitchen linens. Time to look for more inventory, another task that never ended. Not that I was complaining.
The bells on the door jingled and the first customers of the day strolled in. Grammie and I turned to them with smiles. Quincy greeted them with a meow. Showtime.
In between customers, I managed to get online and research auction houses. In addition to the big New York names—Sotheby’s and Christie’s—there were smaller houses around New England that offered high-quality items like Eleanor’s. I made bookmarks, planning to contact each house to gauge interest, find out about their fees, and get estimated appraisals. We’d need to send photos of each item at some point, but I could at least get the ball rolling.
Just before noon, Madison strolled into the store, carrying a duffle bag.
“Doing a lot of shopping?” I quipped. “Oh, and did you get my text? News at one, with Dr. Lukas de Wilde.”
Madison dropped the duffle in the side room with a thud. “I did. And I’ll be staying for that.” She hunkered down and unzipped the bag, then pulled out a black and bright blue garment. “This is your wetsuit, to wear during the boat race.”
I took the neoprene suit, which looked far too small, and held it up against my torso. It had short sleeves and legs that went to mid-thigh. “Seriously? You want me to wear this?” With my curves compressed inside it, I would resemble a sausage.
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