“They weren’t an item,” she told me. “But he’s always liked her.”
“Definitely an option, then,” I said, writing down the name. “Anyone else? Anyone at all?”
“Not that I can think of right now.” She finished her cookie and reached for another.
“Well, we’ve got two people to go on, and that’s a start.” I ripped off the page and folded it in half. “I know where Evan lives, but what about Kaitlyn?”
“She’s up on Harbor Lane. Third house from the end, on the left. It’s blue with green shutters.”
“I’d like to go ask her some questions,” I said. “Do you want to come with me?”
“But the store …”
“Don’t you have anyone else who can fill in?”
She looked at me bleary-eyed. “To be honest, Nat, I don’t think I’d be much help. Plus, I want to wait here in case the attorney calls.”
“You sure?”
She stood up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. But I have a favor to ask.”
“You name it,” I told her.
“Can you fill in for me tomorrow morning? So I can go and visit Tania?”
“Of course,” I said. “When do you want me?”
“Will ten o’clock work?”
I squeezed my friend’s shoulder. “I’ll be here with bells on.”
thirteen
Charlene had been looking, if not happy, at least more like herself when I left the store a few minutes later. I wasn’t sure how much we could do to help Tania, but we had to try.
Despite the events of the day, the weather was fresh and gorgeous, with a cool breeze off the water and the trees glowing emerald green. I leaned down to pick a few blueberries from time to time; the raspberries were turning red, but not quite ready, and I found myself making a mental note of where the best bushes were. There was nothing better than fresh raspberries and cream, and if Zeke did manage to get a few cows on the island, it would be even better. My thoughts turned to his strange behavior after the fire. Why hadn’t he wanted the police to come? Or had he just not wanted to make a fuss?
I felt for the list of names in my back pocket as I turned up Harbor Lane a few minutes later. Although I hardly needed it: there were only two names on it. I had decided to visit Kaitlyn’s house first.
It was a short walk from the store to Kaitlyn’s, and the house was hard to miss; the paint was royal blue, and the trim was the color of pistachio ice cream. Two salmon-colored rocking chairs stood on the porch, surrounded by pots and pots of flowers—a riot of colorful pansies, marigolds, and nasturtiums that had somehow escaped Claudette’s voracious sheep.
Wind chimes tinkled behind me as I knocked on the door; a moment later, I could hear footsteps approaching from inside.
A young woman answered the door, looking puzzled. I’d seen her from time to time, but never met her. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m Natalie Barnes, Charlene’s friend. Are you Kaitlyn Bennett?”
“I am. You’re the lady who runs the inn, right?”
“That’s me.”
“I love your brownies; I can’t ever resist them when they’re at the store.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking an instant liking to the girl. “Anyway, Charlene said you might be able to help out. You’ve heard about Tania?”
“Tania?” Her brow furrowed. “What about her?”
“She was arrested today,” I told her.
Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “No. For what?”
“Drug possession.”
“That’s horrible,” the young woman said. She was a fresh-faced, athletic-looking young woman. Unlike Tania, she wore no makeup, and was dressed in loose faded jeans and a University of Maine T-shirt.
“I know,” I said. “I was hoping you could help us find a way to help her out.”
“Come in, please.” She opened the door wider and invited me into the small house. The inside was as colorful as the outside, but it all worked. “Poor Tania. I’m so worried about her. Ever since I got back from school this summer, she just hasn’t seemed the same.” She led me into the kitchen, and gestured to one of the chairs around the small table. “Can I get you a cup of tea?”
“No thanks,” I said.
“Please, sit down,” she said, gesturing to a chair at the small, round kitchen table. The cabinets were a gorgeous periwinkle blue, and matched the hand-painted blue-and-white tiles of the backsplash. A variety of copper molds hung on the wall, and the table was covered with a Provençal-style tablecloth. “I love the decor in here.”
“My mom did it,” she said. “She’s always wanted to be an interior designer. I keep telling her to go for it, but she doesn’t want to leave her job. She raised me herself, you know.”
“Maybe she can start part-time,” I suggested. “She really has a knack.”
Kaitlyn smiled, exposing a line of white but slightly crooked teeth. “I’ll tell her you said that.”
I nodded at her shirt. “Are you a student at the university?”
“Just finished my first year,” she said. “I wanted Tania to go, but she was kind of tired of school, and wanted to take a year or two off before going to college.” She sighed. “Now I wish she hadn’t. I knew she seemed different this summer, but I had no idea she was into drugs.”
“Do you know anything about her relationship with Derek?”
“I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but that dude was bad news.” She twisted her hair around one finger as she spoke. “He actually tried to get me to go out with him one night when I ran into him waiting for the mail boat.” She shuddered. “I told him he could take a flying leap.”
“Charlene said Tania had a major crush on him.”
Kaitlyn rolled her eyes. “She did. She was totally into him. I have no idea why; I thought he was sleazy.”
“She seemed to be dressing differently this summer, too.”
“I saw that, too. I think she was trying to keep him interested,” Kaitlyn suggested. “He wasn’t that into her; like I said, I think he was always hitting on other girls.”
“Did she ever get together with Evan Sorenson, do you know?”
“They hung out, but they were never a couple; although he wanted to be. He came back to the island for her, you know. He’s had a thing for her since the eighth grade.”
“I’d heard that,” I said. “How much time did they spend together?”
“A good bit.” She sighed. “I think he was her only friend on the island, honestly, other than me and Derek—if you can call Derek a friend. She wasn’t really returning my calls lately. I feel kind of bad about it now, but I was always trying to get her to break up with him.” She frowned slightly. “I think she felt judged, but I was just trying to help.”
Had she “helped” her friend by calling in an anonymous tip, I wondered? “I’m sure you were trying to help her. She’d probably appreciate a visit, if you’ve got the time.”
“I don’t know how to do it, but maybe Charlene can go with me,” she suggested, looking uneasy at the thought.
“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to get Tania into trouble?”
She shook her head. “Evan would have walked on water for her. She didn’t have a lot of other friends here—a lot of them went off-island after graduation. I can’t think who would have wanted to mess with her, though. I’m sorry I’m not more help.”
“I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me,” I told her as she let me out the colorful front door a few minutes later. The sun was dropping in the sky, and there was a chill in the breeze; I hugged myself, wishing I’d taken a jacket with me.
My next stop was Ingrid’s house. I was hoping to touch base with Evan; if, as Kaitlyn said, he had a crush on Tania, he should be willing to do anything he could to help her.
I walked past Eli and Claudette’s on the way, smiling at the bits of boat sprawled out across the yard, along wit
h Claudette’s goats Muffin and Pudge, who were working in concert to pull their tire toward a pot of geraniums, and realized I’d never made it over to check out the skiff Eli had offered. There was no time today, but maybe tomorrow, after I finished keeping an eye on the store, I’d give them a call and see if Eli could spare a few minutes.
Ingrid’s house was immaculately kept, as always, with two urns of geraniums showing only a little bit of goat damage flanking the stairs to the porch. As I was about to mount the first step, I heard voices through the open window, and paused.
“You never should have come back. I knew she would be a bad influence on you.” I recognized the voice as Ingrid’s.
“Mom. You’re jumping to conclusions.” Evan, I thought.
“First her boyfriend gets himself killed, and now this.”
“He wasn’t her boyfriend. They weren’t serious.”
“Serious enough to get her into drugs. And you, too.”
“I’m not into drugs. That’s all behind me now.”
“Really?” Ingrid spat. “Why won’t you do a drug test, then?”
“You never have faith in me,” he said. He was yelling now. “You won’t be happy unless I’m locked up in some rehab facility, will you?”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe,” she answered. “I know you care for that girl, but I’m glad she’s not around to tempt you anymore. And that drug dealer, too. I heard he was dealing at the school. Innocent children! And now that girl Tania is involved, too.”
“She was clean, Mom. I know Derek tried to get her to smoke, but she wouldn’t do it.”
“Oh?” The voice was near hysteria now. “Then how come she got arrested for having marijuana today?”
“I hate you.” The voice was so savage it made me shiver. A door slammed so hard the entire house seemed to shake, and then I heard a woman sobbing.
Quietly, I crept away from the house into the cooling evening, wondering to what lengths Ingrid might go to protect her son—and if those lengths might extend to murder.
_____
“I hear we’re going to visit the old rectory!” Beryl was grinning from ear to ear the next morning as I poured coffee and checked to be sure everyone had enough food. I’d made Kat’s Stuffed French Toast for breakfast that morning—I’d gotten the recipe from a friend of mine in Texas—and had finished two of the sweet, apricot- and cream cheese-infused French toast “sandwiches” myself that morning. I wasn’t the only one enjoying it; Agnes was on her third slice, and my hopes of leftovers had been dashed.
“Catherine pulled it off,” I told her with a smile. John’s mother had set things up with Murray, and we were scheduled to meet Matilda at Murray’s construction site the next day.
My fiancé had, as promised, fixed salmon for everyone the night before, sending me upstairs for a bubble bath as he handled the guests. He’d been frustrated and angry at the detective, who hadn’t shared any new information about the case against Tania with him, but he had managed to put it aside and charm Beryl and Agnes, who had both told me they wished they’d gotten to him first. I thought of our wedding discussion earlier that week; I loved his plan, but with Tania in jail, it might change everything. I pushed the thought from my mind and focused on my guests.
“We’ve got the day free, and Agnes wanted to research locations. Any suggestions?”
“I’d definitely head to Mount Desert Island and visit Jordan Pond House,” I said. “Tea and popovers on the lawn are an unforgettable experience.”
“I’ve heard about that place,” Beryl said. “How do we get there?”
“It’s easy; if you take the mail boat over, you can catch a bus to the restaurant. There’s a lovely hike around Jordan Pond, too. A family of beavers has built a dam at the far end—and you might even see some loons!”
“That sounds fabulous,” Agnes said as she forked up another bite of French toast. “I just hope I’ll have room.”
“I’ll call and make reservations for one o’clock,” I said. “That’ll give you plenty of time to digest.”
Agnes smiled. “Thanks, Natalie.”
“Any word on the DNA test yet?” I asked.
“No,” she said, “but I’m going to call again this afternoon. There’s a possibility we might find some other evidence, too, once we get to the rectory. Matilda’s been looking at the letters my grandmother found after he disappeared.”
“Old letters are often useful,” I said. “Let me know if you find anything out!”
“Of course,” she said with a smile. Satisfied, she took another bite of stuffed French toast while I retreated to the kitchen to make the phone call to Jordan Pond House.
Everyone finished breakfast early that morning; the guests were eager to start their adventure, and raced to catch the mail boat. I finished the dishes and was on my bike by 9:45, arriving at the store a few minutes before ten.
“Ready?” I asked Charlene, who was dressed in jeans and a linen jacket, accented by a scarf with bright red poppies.
“I suppose so.” Although her makeup was expertly applied, it couldn’t completely cover the dark rings under her eyes. “I barely slept last night.”
“Take this with you,” I said, offering her two plastic bags filled with leftover muffins and cookies. “I would have brought French toast, but my guests ate it all. These are for you and Tania.”
“Thanks, Nat.” My friend hugged me. “I’ll be back by three at the latest. She’s got a bail hearing at eleven.” She patted her stylish leather purse. “I brought my checkbook. I hope I have enough.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, but if you need help, let us know.”
She gave me a grim smile. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad they’re moving it along,” I said. “Do you know the specifics of what they found yet? They wouldn’t say much to John when he went and talked with them.”
Charlene shook her carefully coiffed head. Normally she liked to style her hair in sexy caramel waves, but today she’d pulled it up into a neat French twist in the back. It was a good look for her, but not one I was used to seeing. “I’m still not sure she wasn’t set up,” my friend said. “Did you have any luck talking to Kaitlyn and Evan yesterday?”
“I only talked with Kaitlyn, briefly—but I saw both of them.” I explained what I had seen yesterday afternoon. “Did you know Evan came back to the island for Tania?”
“No, but I’m not as in touch with the teen scene as I am the affairs of the older crowd. So to speak.” She gave me a saucy wink that made me smile; despite the situation, Charlene’s spirit was still intact.
“We’ll have to ask Tania about it.”
“We’ll have to ask Tania a lot of things.” Charlene’s voice was stern.
“Let’s get her home first,” I said, and glanced at my watch. “You’d better run—give me the quick lowdown on what you need me to do.”
“Just keep the coffee on and ring people up,” she said. “You remember how to use the register?” She pointed to the 1970s-era behemoth at the end of the counter.
“I think so.”
“You’ll be fine,” she said breezily. “The mail comes at noon, and you have to go down to the pier to meet the mail boat. Someone usually is here to mind the store while you run. The outgoing is in that bag there”—she waved a manicured hand toward a gray bag in the corner—“and you can just sort what comes in and stuff it into the boxes.” She inclined her head toward the wall of post office boxes everyone on the island used. “I’ll have my phone with me, if you get in trouble. It’s spotty, but it’s better on Mount Desert Island than it is here.” She sucked in her breath through her pink-painted lips. “The Daily Mail will be here at noon, too. Let me know if you see anything in it.”
“You know it’ll show up in there sometime,” I said. All the arrests were listed in the crime watch section—a part of the paper read with intense interest by everyone on the island.
“I know,” she said, with a sigh that seemed to
deflate her.
“Go,” I said. “Your niece needs you. And your sister.” I knew Charlene was meeting Tania’s mother at the jail.
“Wish me luck,” she said, lingering at the door.
“Always.”
_____
The first half hour was peaceful; a couple of locals came in for milk or eggs, and I managed to wield the cash register without accidentally charging anybody $100 for a gallon of milk. At noon, I wandered down to the pier to exchange outgoing mail for ingoing mail, leaving Eli at the register, and spent the next half hour tucking envelopes into boxes. My mind kept returning to Tania, though. When there weren’t customers at the bar, I found myself fretting. To distract myself, I grabbed a week-old copy of the Portland paper, poured myself a cup of coffee, and settled onto one of the squishy couches in the front of the store.
It was easy sometimes to forget that there was a world outside of Cranberry Island, and after a few pages reading about congressional tussles, global warming, and gun violence, I was ready to close it up and rearrange cans of pear slices instead. On the other hand, maybe the outside world wasn’t so far away after all. Gun violence wasn’t exactly absent on Cranberry Island. Derek Morton had been shot to death just days ago.
I turned a page of the paper to an interesting article on the drug trade. Evidently Portland had had a recent resurgence of the problem, with major influxes of marijuana they suspected was coming from Canada. It was Prohibition all over again, complete with gangs and murders. Although I wasn’t interested in drugs myself, sometimes I wished they’d just legalize marijuana and tax the heck out of it instead of flushing millions of dollars down the drain trying to stamp it out. And turning young, foolish women like Tania into felons.
Was she going to be a felon? The thought made my stomach churn, and I put down the paper and walked to the phone behind the counter. John’s voiced answered on the third ring.
“Hey,” I said.
Death Runs Adrift (The Gray Whale Inn Mysteries) Page 13