Vineyard Chill
Page 23
“But they’re not his millions.”
“They are until Mark Briggs comes to get them, and he won’t be coming.”
“If Jack Blume and Mickey Monroe could find Clay, Mark Briggs certainly can.”
“So?”
“So he might just want his money.”
“But he won’t get it.”
“Why not?”
“Because Clay gave it to the Feds! You said so yourself!”
“But I was lying.”
“But Mark Briggs won’t know that.”
I put my arms around her shoulders. “I’m not often glad that I’m poor, but this is one of those times.”
“You’re not poor,” she said, snugging closer. “You have everything you need.”
True.
More people are married on Martha’s Vineyard than anywhere else in America, outside of Las Vegas. In the spring, summer, and fall, and even in early winter, the churches are booked, wedding houses are full, and tents are up in fields, on beaches, and on lawns, including, conspicuously, that of the Captain Fisher House in Edgartown. Every day, almost, you can see people decked out in gowns and tuxes, and limos unloading brides and bridesmaids. You can spend a fortune on a Vineyard wedding, and a lot of people do.
Clay and Elly didn’t. They got married in August, in our oceanside yard, with us and a few other friends and kin in attendance. I was best man, Zee was matron of honor, Diana was a flower girl, and Joshua was ring bearer. We had champagne, several kinds of shellfish appetizers, and lobster rolls. The sun was shining just like it was supposed to do, and we had Mary Coffin and Hazel Fine playing early music for anyone who wanted to listen.
In September, on a gorgeous fall day, but with their eyes and ears open to all reports of low-pressure systems moving across the Atlantic from Africa, Clay, Elly, and Ted Overhill sailed out of Vineyard Haven harbor and pointed the Horizon south. Zee and the kids and I drove over to East Beach on Chappy and saw them moving down through Muskeget Channel, heading for the open sea.
“Where do you suppose they’ll end up?” asked Zee.
“I know they have a copy of Ocean Passages for the World aboard, so they can go anywhere they want to go. Maybe they’ll go to Rio de Janeiro.”
“You don’t suppose…”
“Why not? Clay still has the key to that storage locker in San Diego. Maybe he wants to give it to Mark Briggs in person.”
“If he can find him.”
“If he can find him. Or maybe he wants to see that girl from Ipanema.”
“He doesn’t need a girl from Ipanema. He’s got Elly.”
“Hey!” said Diana. “Look there!”
We brought our eyes closer to shore and there, sure enough, was funny water. Bluefish! We trotted to the Land Cruiser and I got the others’ rods off the roof rack and handed them out. Before I could join them, Zee was already at the water making her beautiful long cast, and Joshua and Diana were right beside her making their short but straight ones. It was a miniblitz, with blues both far out and close in, and they were taking whatever you threw at them. I stood by the truck and watched as fish hit all three lures and the rods bent and the lines began to sing.
I stuck my rod in the spike on the front of the truck and went back and opened the rear door so we could get at the hook removers and more lures in case anybody’s got bitten off. On both sides of our parked truck, men were running from their pickups and SUVs down to the surf, rods in hand, some casting as they ran.
Zee had a good fish and was playing it carefully. As I watched, it leaped and twisted, trying to throw the hook, but she gave it no slack and reeled it in steadily. Diana was almost in the water, pulled there by a fish that didn’t want to be caught. Beside her, Joshua was leaning back, then reeling down, then hauling back again, steadily bringing his fish to shore. I started to go help Diana but forced myself to stop. It was a battle she’d not yet lost, though she’d not yet won it, either.
Zee’s fish and Joshua’s came flopping ashore almost at the same time, and the two fisherpeople hooked their hands in the gills, carefully avoiding the razor teeth and spiny fins, and stood watching Diana’s titanic battle. It ebbed and flowed, with Diana first losing a step, then gaining one as she reeled in line and then lost it and then reeled it in again. Then, almost imperceptibly, she was gaining, taking two steps back for every one forward. Twenty feet out in the water the fish suddenly broke the surface and we could see that it was a good one. Diana reeled in and backed up the beach, staggered but recovered, and reeled some more. And then, twisting and turning, the fish came through the last wave and slithered up the wet sand. Zee walked over and put a foot on it to hold it down while Diana got her hand in its gills. Then my wife and children came up to the truck, rod in one hand, a fish in the other. They looked happy, the way fishermen look when they’re on East Beach and the blues are in. I got my rod and walked down to the surf to join the fun.
When the blitz was past, I looked to the south. The Horizon was only a dot. I watched it grow smaller and smaller as it moved toward a future none of us could guess. I remembered Clay saying that he’d never liked being in a place as much as he liked being on the Vineyard, where he had good work and good friends; but with the launching of the Horizon the wanderthirst had come upon him as it had so often in his life, and now he was off on another adventure. I wished him well and knew that many would envy him, but when I looked at my wife and children, close by me on the golden sand, I felt content.
RECIPES
SPINACH LASAGNA
My wife, Shirley, and our daughter Kim have an ongoing contest concerning whose lasagna weighs the most. That may not seem like a meaningful criterion for quality to you, but it supports the theory that you can’t have too much of a good thing.
1-lb. package of wide egg noodles
½ lb. sliced mushrooms
1 large onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ sweet green pepper, diced
2 (10-oz.) packages frozen chopped spinach (cooked and well drained)
1 lb. ricotta cheese
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tsp. salt
½ tsp. pepper
½ tsp. dried oregano
¼ tsp. nutmeg
3 cups spaghetti sauce
12 oz. mozzarella cheese, shredded
Cook noodles al dente and drain. Sauté mushrooms, onion, garlic, and green pepper in a little olive oil and add with cooked spinach to noodles. Add ricotta and Parmesan cheese, salt, pepper, oregano, nutmeg, and 2 cups spaghetti sauce. Pour mixture into buttered 9-by-13-inch baking dish (or two 9-by-9-inch pans). Top with remaining sauce and mozzarella cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes or until heated through.
May be frozen, well covered. (Cover lasagna with plastic wrap before wrapping again in aluminum foil. Defrost and don’t forget to remove the plastic wrap before reheating.)
Serves 8–12.
LINGUINI WITH SHELLFISH AND GARLIC SAUCE
J.W. sometimes brings home more quahogs than the Jacksons and their guests can eat on the half shell, as casinos, as stuffers, or than he can use as chowder makings. (There are lots of quahogs in Edgartown ponds!) This is a good way to use the extra ones. Serve with a fresh green salad and some crusty bread to dip in flavored olive oil.
2–3 dozen quahogs (or equivalent amount of shrimp, scallops, or mussels*)
6 tbsp. butter
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 shallot, finely chopped
¼ cup dry white wine
Generous pinch dried thyme
Freshly ground pepper
Salt, if desired
1 lb. linguini, cooked according to package directions
Steam quahogs in ½ cup water over high heat, just until shellfish open. Cool, remove quahogs from shells, and chop coarsely. Reserve ¼–½ cup broth.
Melt butter in heavy saucepan. Add garlic and shallot and sauté until soft. Add chopped quahogs and broth to taste, along with win
e, thyme, and pepper. Heat through over low heat. Serve over cooked linguini with freshly grated Parmesan cheese.
Serves 4.
PASTA WITH SALMON
The Jacksons and the Craigs eat a lot of pasta. This is a good way to do it.
3 tbsp. unsalted butter
4 oz. sliced mushrooms
8 oz. salmon, cooked and flaked (a good use of leftovers)
1–1 ½ cups asparagus, cooked to crisp-tender and sliced diagonally*
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
½ tsp. ground nutmeg
8–12 oz. spinach noodles, cooked according to package directions and drained
1 cup dairy sour cream
Paprika
Melt butter in Dutch oven (or large saucepan). Sauté mushrooms until they’ve released their juices. Add salmon, asparagus, cheese, and nutmeg to pot and heat gently over low heat. Add noodles, stirring gently until hot. Fold in sour cream and heat until just hot (add a bit of milk if sauce needs thinning). Spoon into a heated serving dish and sprinkle with paprika.
Serves 4–6.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Philip R. Craig passed away on May 8, 2007, after a brief battle with cancer. At the time of his death, Phil had completed and submitted this novel, but had yet to acknowledge the contributions of those who had provided him assistance during the writing of the book. The success of the J.W. Jackson series was due in no small part to the support of Phil’s friends, family, and colleagues, who would often help Phil and J.W. navigate some particularly sticky part of the mystery with which they were currently embroiled. Some would provide answers about poisons or weaponry, others about police procedure or methods of tracking down people online. Phil would certainly have wanted to thank all of those who contributed ideas and suggestions for this book; and though we don’t know your names, you undoubtedly know who you are!
Phil’s family would like to express our gratitude to all of the many people, named and un-named, who’ve contributed in any way to the success of the Martha’s Vineyard Mystery series over the years. You were all part of the experience that fed the writer’s soul.
Shirley Craig
Martha’s Vineyard
January 2008
*If using mussels, steam them in the same manner. Shrimp or scallops should be lightly sautéed.
*You may substitute edible pod peas (or tiny frozen peas) for the asparagus in this recipe.