I changed course and headed toward the stage, hoping I could drag her away for breakfast. The meeting had been her idea, after all, and I was starving. As I approached, Bella and Jake detached themselves from the other workers to confer over Bella’s clipboard.
“Hi, guys,” I said, walking up behind them. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
They turned to me with smiles. “It sure is,” Bella said. “And what a relief, after last night. I was worried the rain might hang on.”
Jake tipped his head back and studied the sky. “Nope. A high pressure front pushed it all out of here.”
Bella’s dainty brows knotted as she studied my face. “Madison told me what happened last night, over at the seaweed lab. Did she really tackle Theo like a football player?”
“She sure did,” I said. “And I helped hold him down, along with Jamaica, until the police got there.”
Jake laughed. “I can just picture that. Why were the police involved?”
I realized that Jake really had been out of the loop since he and Sophie had broken up. We hadn’t seen him much, which I regretted. I really liked Jake.
“Theo was trying to break into the building.” I gave them a condensed version, hitting only the highlights. “There’s a BOLO out for Patrick Chance, if you see him, Jake,” I concluded. “He owns an old lobster boat, painted pale green.”
“I know that boat,” Jake said. “It used to belong to a lobsterman who’s now retired. One of the old-timers.” He pointed a finger at me. “And I think I might have seen Jamaica down at the docks, too.”
“Probably,” I said. “She’s quite stunning.” I gave him a brief description of her.
“Oh yeah,” Jake said. “That’s her. She runs a little white skiff, sixteen-footer.” He laughed. “One morning I thought she and I were going to crash right into each other, she was moving so fast.” He made a whining noise while gesturing with his hand and laughed again. “I blinked and there she was, coming right at me. It can be hard to see a small boat at that time of day.”
“When was that, Jake?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. My intuition already knew. But maybe it was wrong.
“Hmm.” He scratched his cheek, thinking. “When was that?” Light dawned in his eyes. “It was the day before the festival. I remember because I was thinking about how many lobsters we were going to need.” He laughed. “A lot more than usual.”
The morning Hailey was killed. Jamaica had plainly told me that she had been at home drinking coffee. But instead, Jake had seen her racing across the bay in her boat. “Which way was she going?” I asked, barely able to force the words past the lump of disappointment and sorrow in my throat. I knew the answer to that too.
He looked puzzled at my question but he answered. “I was cutting across the mouth of the harbor, headed south. She was coming the other way.”
Toward the cliffs at the state park. Jamaica had lied to me. She had been at the crime scene that day, not at her apartment.
“Are you okay, Iris?” Bella asked in concern when I let out a little groan.
I shook my head, not wanting to verbalize my fears in this very public spot. “I’ll be all right.” Once I got over my shock. “Do you still have time for breakfast? I understand if you’re too busy.”
“Yes, I do. We really need to talk about tonight.” Bella flipped through the clipboard then handed it to Jake. “Do you mind taking over supervision duties for a while? Everything is in pretty good shape.”
He took the clipboard and waved it at us. “Go, eat. We’ll be fine.”
Bella and I started walking toward the breakfast tent, where I noticed with gratitude that the line had shortened. Although after hearing about Jamaica, my appetite was pretty much gone. Bella didn’t press me for explanations. Instead she burbled on about the upcoming show, her light chatter giving me time to regroup, for which I was grateful.
We joined the back of the line and as we slowly moved toward the food, a little of my appetite came back. It all smelled so good. At one long griddle, a cook was expertly turning golden disks studded with fresh blueberries. Beside him, another cook used tongs to turn strips of bacon and link sausage.
After we handed over tickets, the cooks served plates holding three pancakes and three pieces of our choice, bacon or sausage. I chose sausage, then collected pats of butter, tubs of maple syrup, napkin-wrapped silverware, a cup of coffee, and orange juice. Huh. A lot of food for someone who wasn’t really hungry.
We found seats at one of the long tables, sitting across from each other. Bella unrolled her napkin and picked up a fork, which she used to scoop butter from the tiny containers onto her pancakes. “Madison texted me about last night.” She picked up a second pat. “Sounds like you guys were really busy. And I’m so, so happy that Eleanor is okay.”
When we’d gotten home last night, I’d gone right to bed, not even thinking to text Bella and Sophie with all the news. I was pleased that Madison had done it, since I hated leaving our friends out of the loop, even inadvertently.
“Me too.” I spread butter over my pancakes, watching it melt. “Grammie and I plan to go over to the hospital later and visit her.” Grammie was going to pick up flowers at the local florist for us to bring.
“Wish I could join you,” Bella said. “But with the show…” She ripped open a maple syrup tub and poured the sweet liquid onto her pancakes. “Please give her my best wishes.”
“I sure will.” I took the first bite of pancake, along with a piece of sausage. Mouthwatering maple goodness. “So, tell me what I need to do tonight.”
Bella explained that for the regular portion of the show, I would sit on a panel of judges. The models participating represented various local organizations and had put together outfits for different categories. Some of the clothing had come from Bella’s and other stores, while some was homemade, vintage, or otherwise sourced.
“We’re having Rich Hammond from the Grille do the announcing,” she said. “He’s going to describe each outfit and what pieces went into it. Then you and the other judges pick winners.” She showed me the scoring sheet. We would choose best in a category—say, summer sportswear—and then most creative, funniest, and best accessories for each category. There were a lot of opportunities for the models to win prizes.
“We used to just model outfits from various stores,” Bella went on. “But everyone got bored with that. This way it’s a lot of fun, and people come out to cheer on family and friends who are modeling.”
“It does sound fun,” I said. If the entries in the regular fashion show were anywhere near as creative as the lobster bib ones, it would be a hoot. “So, how is it going to work for the lobster bib portion?”
Bella chased a piece of pancake around her plate, mopping up syrup. “You’re the only judge, so you will pick the top three winners.”
That made sense, but I guess I hadn’t thought that part through. All eyes would be on me—well, once they could tear them away from those wild and wacky outfits. “Wow, that’s a lot of responsibility.”
“Don’t worry. There’s also audience voting, using a phone poll we’re setting up. So we’ll have the people’s choice for the top three as well.”
“Does that mean a mob won’t come after me if I don’t pick their favorite for the grand prize?” I was only half joking. I’d witnessed how vocal and riled up people could be when they disagreed with a decision, even if the stakes might seem small to many.
“We’re going to have Rich pull names for the prizes,” Bella said. “Once the six winners are chosen.”
This was all very elaborate for such a small contest, but I didn’t argue. Some of the people entering were going all out from what I could see, so we needed to give them full consideration.
Once we finished eating, we cleared our dishes to make way for the next wave of pancake eaters. Bella gave me a hug. “See you tonight, Iris. It’s going to be fun.”
“I think so too.” I watched as she bustled back toward
the stage, thinking I might take a stroll along the shore before going to the store. It was such a lovely morning.
The noise and activity of the festival receded as I walked along the shore path, passing the library and then a row of historic homes along the waterfront. If I went far enough, I’d reach the yacht club, located on a spit of land extending into the harbor.
This was lovely, the breeze ruffling my hair and the warm sun on my face. Gulls cried and the incoming tide lapped gently against the rocky shore. Halfway along the spit, I saw a man sitting on a bench. When I got closer, I recognized Lukas.
But this wasn’t the groomed and gorgeous European dream I’d met only days ago. This Lukas was unshaven, his face gray and drawn, his broad shoulders slumped.
“Lukas,” I said, standing in front of him. “How are you?”
He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. “Not so good, Iris. Ever see your whole world implode right before your eyes?”
Without invitation, I sat beside him on the bench, smoothing my skirts. I was already dressed for work in a pale blue dress and white pinafore. “Yes,” I answered simply. My parents’ deaths of course, then the loss of my beloved grandfather last winter. Oh, and being laid off from a job I loved, that had stung too, but paled in the light of greater losses.
“I’ve lost both my teaching assistants, one tragically, the other stupidly, my teaching career is on the line, and one of my seaweed farmers is wanted by the police.” His lips twisted. “Oh, all of it is nothing compared to what Hailey lost, but seriously, my life is a train wreck.”
It did sound dire when he put it that way. “You still have Jamaica,” I pointed out. “She’s doing okay.” Then my heart squeezed. She’d lied to me. I bit back further assurances, hating it when I got them from people who were well-meaning but basically minimizing the situation. “Honestly?” I said. “You’re screwed.”
That blunt statement startled a bark of laugher out of him and then he was roaring, doubled over, tears streaming. So was I, the belly laughter a huge release of the anxiety and tension I’d been stuffing down for days.
We slumped back against the bench as the laughter drained away. “I needed that.” I discovered clean tissues in my apron pocket and handing him one.
“Me too.” He wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “Thanks, Iris. You’re a good friend.”
I warmed at the compliment as we sat side by side for a few minutes watching small waves ruffle the shore. Far out in the bay, a tanker made its way toward Belfast. No sign of a pale green lobster boat. Where had Patrick gone? He couldn’t hide forever, could he?
Faint music drifted from loudspeakers at the festival as the first rides began to move. Tomorrow cleanup would begin and by evening, tents, rides, and booths would be gone. The park would be back to normal until the next event.
Would Lukas’s life ever be back to normal? I sure hoped so.
“Iris,” he said in a musing voice, “remember the matchbook from Chateau de Mount-Gauthier?”
It took me a second to catch up. “Yes, I do. Did you find out why Hailey had it?”
“Not quite,” he said. “But I did remember that Ruben attended a conference there. He was presenting his biofuel concept to a small group of industry experts.”
“And maybe Hailey was there, too?” If so, I hoped it was on a professional basis. The thought that Ruben might have been involved with a student disgusted me.
“I’m not sure if she went,” he said. “I didn’t see a list of attendees. But sometimes professors invite students along as a learning experience. She would have met some top names in biofuel that weekend.”
“Thanks, Lukas. I guess it’s more than we knew before.” But not much more. The matchbook might be merely a memento of a nice trip. Or maybe it wasn’t even hers. She might have picked it up somewhere.
Dead end or vital clue? Right now I had no idea.
CHAPTER 25
A small but modern hospital, Blueberry Cove Medical Center was located on the crest of the hill overlooking downtown and the harbor. I drove us up there in Beverly, Grammie cradling the bouquet she had bought earlier for Eleanor.
“Are you nervous about tonight?” she asked me as I turned into the hospital lot.
“A little,” I said, acknowledging the knot of excited trepidation in my gut. It was a familiar feeling, one I experienced every time I had to speak in public.
The fashion show was two hours from now, giving me barely enough time to visit Eleanor before going home to shower and change. After the show, I was planning to attend the semi-formal dinner and dance under the stars with Ian as my date. I could hardly wait for that part of the evening. We almost never dressed up, so it should be fun.
Ian looked great in a dinner jacket. With a sigh, this time of anticipation, I pulled into the visitor slot and turned off the car. We gathered our handbags and the flowers and made our way to the lobby.
Both of us faltered slightly when the big doors swished open, inviting us to step inside. We hadn’t been to the hospital since last winter, before Papa Joe died. Thankfully they’d released him under the hospice program and he had spent his last days in his own home. But the mingled aroma of disinfectant and floor wax was still all too familiar.
Then Grammie lifted her chin and charged across the squeaky clean floor to the front desk. “Good evening,” she said to the attendant. “Eleanor Brady’s room, please.” Judging by her pleasant, steady tone, one would never know the heartbreak she had experienced in this place.
We took the elevator to the second floor, to the unit where Eleanor was staying. At the station, a nurse directed us to her room. “Miss Eleanor is doing great,” he said. “We’re going to miss her around here.”
I took away two things from his comment. Eleanor was well-liked by the staff and she was being discharged soon. Thanking him for his help, we continued down the corridor and found Eleanor’s room. The door was open, but we knocked. A pulled curtain was blocking our view of the bed.
“Come in,” Eleanor called. My heart lifted with joy. She sounded so much stronger and clearer than the last time we had seen her.
She was propped in bed, reading a magazine, her eyeglasses up on her head. To her left, the curtains were open, revealing a view of the harbor. Not bad at all for a hospital room.
Grammie set the extravagant bouquet on the wide windowsill, next to a few others. Eleanor exclaimed in delight. “Those are lovely. Thank you.”
We both gave her a kiss on the cheek, then settled to visit. Grammie sat in a chair and I leaned up against the windowsill.
“I understand you’re getting out of here soon,” Grammie said. “Well, the nurse didn’t say that explicitly but we read between the lines.”
Eleanor closed the magazine and scooted upright a little more. “I’m being discharged tomorrow afternoon. And though everyone has been wonderful here, I’m eager to get home.” She glanced in the direction of the room door. “Do you mind closing the door, Iris?”
I hurried to comply, wondering what she didn’t want anyone to overhear. I shut the door gently and returned to my perch.
Eleanor’s expression was grave. “They found Valium in my blood work. Someone has been drugging me, and three guesses who.”
We both gasped at the news, although we’d suspected something like this all along. “Valium can cause confusion, can’t it?” Grammie said. “I know there are some medications that affect us even more when we get older.”
Eleanor lifted a brow, a glint of humor in her eyes. “You mean when you’re as ancient as me? But you’re right, Anne. The doctor explained it to me.” She leaned forward slightly, dropping her voice. “And it was in my herb supplements, the ones in capsules. Isn’t that a dirty trick?”
“It sure is,” I said, angry at whoever had done such a heinous thing. It had to be Craig Brady, the only person I knew with something to gain—all of Eleanor’s property, including the diamonds he didn’t even know about. That reminded me of the other reason why we we
re here.
“The police have been informed,” Eleanor said. “I don’t know how they can prove anything, but it’s certainly been a warning for me. And I’m taking steps.”
“Good for you,” Grammie said. “We’re here if you need anything.” She turned to look at me. “Do you want to do the honors?”
“I’d love to.” I slid off the sill and moved closer to the bed. Then I wasn’t sure how to begin. Eleanor didn’t even know about her grandfather’s horrible death. “Lukas helped us do some research into Claudia’s life. It was easier for him since he can read Flemish, French, and German.”
Eleanor was listening intently, her gaze never leaving my face. “What a nice young man he is,” she commented. “How fortuitous he was here to help.”
“It was,” I said. “He soon learned that Claudia did come from a noble family. Her father was a baron.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly. “Wow. That is not what I was expecting to hear. I’m related to European royalty?” Her laugh was disbelieving.
“We could always tell,” Grammie joked. “You’re so queenly.”
“Bossy, you mean,” Eleanor said, smiling at her friend. “Don’t hold back, Anne.”
After they were done laughing, I cleared my throat. “There’s more, Eleanor. And I’m afraid it’s a tragic story.”
Her face sobered as she clasped her hands together in her lap. “Go on.”
“Your grandfather was killed in 1932, during a robbery, they think. He was a diamond dealer.” I hurried to tell her the rest. “Claudia had left the country before it happened. She was on the Lapland when he died.” I didn’t bother to connect the dots. Eleanor was capable of doing that for herself. “Lukas found an engagement announcement. She was supposed to marry another baron.”
Eleanor thought for a long moment, her eyes distant. “She must have been very unhappy,” she said, “to leave her luxurious lifestyle and become a nursery maid, of all things. Poor Mama. I’m glad she at least had us.” She paused. “Now I know why she never spoke of Belgium or her family. She wanted to put it all behind her.”
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