Candy’s mind flashed through a half dozen responses, but she went with the safest, easiest, least-revealing one. “He’s my boss.”
“Ahh.” Felicia nodded. “So you’re kinda chummy with him, is that it?”
Candy allowed herself a brief smile. “That’s an interesting way to describe it, but yeah, something like that.”
“So you, what, kinda date and stuff but nothing too serious yet? Just a casual sort of thing, right?”
Again, Candy hesitated. She didn’t know exactly what Felicia was after, and decided the best course was a cautious one. “Ben and I are good friends,” she said definitively.
“Uh-huh.” Felicia crossed her arms in front of her as she turned her hawklike gaze back to Ben. “I think I understand. Wonder what he’s saying to Gina.”
“Who?” For the first time it registered with Candy that Ben was in the midst of a conversation with another woman—a rather plain-looking sculptor with dirty blonde hair, wearing a faded light blue jacket, unflattering jeans, and scuffed work boots. Her long knit scarf was wrapped tightly around her neck, and her hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of her jacket. She looked unhappy about something.
“Gina Templeton, of the self-absorbed Templetons,” Felicia explained. She frowned and glanced at Candy. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that. She’s actually not that bad a person. It’s just that her husband, Victor, won a few international competitions, and now she thinks she’s the queen bee of the ice-carving circuit. She’s a decent carver herself, though not nearly as talented as her husband. He’s the true artist in that family—his stuff is fantastic.”
Candy looked around, intrigued. “Is he here? I’d like to talk to him.”
Together they scanned the crowd. After a moment Felicia nodded toward another group. “I don’t see Victor, but have you talked to Liam yet? He’s the other alpha dog out here. More than likely you can expect to see at least one blowup between him and Victor this weekend.”
Candy’s gaze shifted to Liam Yates, the tall, blond Vermonter, who was presently talking to Oliver LaForce, the owner of the Lightkeeper’s Inn. Also with them was the inn’s new executive chef, Colin Trevor Jones, a young, up-and-coming French Canadian from New Brunswick, east of Maine. With his black wavy hair, finely etched features, and quick, bright smile, Colin had set more than one heart aflutter since he’d landed in town last fall. But he’d proven to be a little clumsy around women, and somewhat tongue-tied when out in a crowd. In the kitchen, however, he was a whiz. He’d already developed a reputation around town for his “classic maritime” cuisine, highlighted by such dishes as crab crepes, lobster bisque, fish chowder, mushroom and beet salad, and French Canadian pork pie. Word was that he’d roughly doubled traffic in the inn’s restaurant over the holiday season, and his daily and weekend specials were a constant draw for villagers and out-of-towners alike.
Despite Colin’s shyness, Oliver LaForce was not hesitant about promoting his newly acquired and buzz-worthy chef, especially when he realized he could exploit Colin’s hidden talent—ice carving. Growing up on hockey rinks in New Brunswick, Colin had taken easily to the icy art, starting in his midtwenties. Now, just a few years later, he was beginning to establish a name for himself. Oliver had taken advantage of the fact, inserting himself and his chef into the event’s program.
Candy turned her attention back to Liam. He had a confident attitude, bordering on cocky, Candy decided after watching him for a few moments. She didn’t even have to hear what he was saying—she could imagine his words in her head. She’d run into enough men like him—and a few women—when she’d worked in marketing down in Boston a lifetime ago. She’d been happy enough to leave that life behind, but echoes of it continually returned to her, even in this quiet seaside village.
“I haven’t talked to him yet,” Candy said, fixing her gaze on him, “but he’s on my interview list.”
“Just make sure you don’t buy into his bullcrap,” Felicia said, an edge of anger creeping into her voice. “He tends to lay it on pretty thick. And he’s completely untrustworthy. Don’t believe a thing he says.” Abruptly she caught herself, as if she’d gone too far, and clamped her mouth shut. She scanned the crowd, searching for a way to change the subject. “I don’t see Victor anywhere, but he must be around. Until he shows up, you should talk to Gina.”
She turned back to Candy. “In fact, I’ll tell you what. If you introduce me to your hunky friend Ben, I’ll introduce you to Gina and Victor.”
At that proposal, Candy could only laugh. She gave Felicia a quick wave. “I think I’ll take a rain check, but thanks for the information.”
She started off as casually as possible, vowing to keep a sharp eye on Felicia. But for now she had another goal in mind, and someone else she needed to talk to. She had to be discreet about it, though. Her goal was to head toward a stand of trees gathered near the center of the park, but first, as nonchalantly as possible, she circled around to the other side of the work area, where blocks of ice were still being manhandled and placed. As she walked, she thought about Felicia’s comments. The dark-haired woman’s attraction to Ben was obvious, but Candy was uncertain of how much it bothered her.
She supposed her relationship with Ben was, well, a little strange to most people. Generally, any single woman her age would probably work quickly to tie up an eligible bachelor like Ben. But Candy had never been much in a rush to do that, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Just something inside of her, some sort of intuition, told her the timing wasn’t right. Ben seemed to sense it too, which resulted in a certain comfort level between the two of them.
Or maybe they’d both become too complacent about the casual nature of their relationship. Ben had been changing lately—more involved, yet more reclusive in some ways, but nothing she considered out of the norm. Just typical for a Caper.
What a strange little group of people we are, Candy thought happily. I hope we never change.
When she felt an appropriate amount of time had passed, and she was sure no one was watching, she slipped off to her right, away from all the activity, and into the denser stand of trees.
Judicious F. P. Bosworth was waiting for her.
SEVEN
Half-hidden behind a tree, Judicious watched her approach with a tense expression on his face. He usually displayed a somber demeanor, though at times his mood lightened, especially on sunny afternoons in the summer. But today he looked all business. His mouth was a tight line, and his eyes were shadowed, with glints of reflected light peeking out.
He was dressed in a black woolen peacoat, long gray scarf, and a black-billed cap with earmuffs, pulled all the way down to his dark eyebrows, so it hid his unruly mop of black hair. As she drew near and came to a stop close by, he glanced warily about, as if he were about to come under attack, his bright blue eyes flicking from side to side before alighting on her again. “There’re a lot of people out today,” he said, settling deeper into his winter coat. “Colder weather’s coming in.”
“So I’ve heard. I haven’t seen you around much lately, Judicious. Has everything been going okay?”
“There’s a lot been going on,” he said, “so I thought you should know.”
“What?” Candy felt her sense of dread returning. “Does it have anything to do with Solomon?”
“Maybe. That’s the thing—I don’t know for sure. It’s just a feeling I have.”
Candy shivered. It always meant trouble when Judicious had a feeling. As a young man he had taken a mystical journey to Tibet, where he’d spent the better part of two decades sitting on a mountaintop, exploring the mysteries of the universe. Now he was back in Cape Willington, where he lived by himself in a small log cabin on a forested patch of land at the edge of town.
Several of her previous encounters with Judicious had come at opportune times, when she’d been deep in the middle of mysteries. His sudden appearance here, now, out in public, seemingly with a message for her, made her feel even more strongly tha
t something was up. “Have you heard from Solomon? Is he okay?”
“I can’t say for sure.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Judicious looked back over his shoulder, to the west. “He’s somewhere in the woods.”
“Yes, but where?”
He pondered the question, his eyes distant, watching. “I don’t know for sure. I have a feeling he’ll contact you when he’s ready.”
Conversations with Judicious were always a little odd, but for the most part she’d become used to them. Still, she wished he were a little less cryptic and a little more forthcoming. “Judicious, is there anything specific you can tell me about Solomon? Is he injured? Is there something I can tell the police to help them find him?”
Judicious was silent for a long time as he watched the activities in the park. He seemed fascinated by everything around them. “The police won’t find Solomon unless he wants them to,” he said finally. “Right now, it seems he doesn’t want to be found. And that’s a significant point, isn’t it?”
Candy felt another chill go through her as she focused her gaze on him. “What are you saying?”
Judicious answered her question with a question. “Why does Solomon feel the need to hide?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
A trace of a smile crossed Judicious’s face. “Think about it. Why did he come running out of your woods?”
She saw what Judicious was getting at. The obvious answer quickly came to her. “Because he was afraid of something.”
“Yes, but what?”
“The body,” she said at once. But she sensed there was something more. Solomon had acted scared, as if something had spooked him. But what could it have been? What had happened in those woods?
Candy lowered her voice as she leaned a little closer to Judicious. “What do you think is going on?”
He shook his head. “As I said, I don’t know for sure. But I have a feeling the answers are all around us. You just have to find them. You’re a detective, Candy. You’ve proved that before. You’ll know where to look, if you think about it.” He pointed with his head over his shoulder, in the direction of Blueberry Acres.
Candy knew exactly what he meant. “The woods.”
His gaze shifted to her briefly, then back toward the crowd surrounding the ice sculptures. “There’s something else you should know. It’s not just me. The sisters feel the same way. They’ll tell you all about it. Listen carefully when you talk to them.”
“The sisters? Talk to who?” She felt her frustration rising. “Judicious, isn’t there anything else you can tell me? Something that would help me figure out what’s happening?”
At that, he gave her a melancholy smile. “I can’t walk the path for you. You have to discover the answers for yourself. But you’ll be fine. Trust your instincts. Yours are very strong, if you haven’t noticed.”
He did something with his left eye that might have been a wink; it went by so fast Candy couldn’t be certain. She heard a shout behind her and turned back toward the crowd. The workers were gathered around one of the ice mountains—the one that would soon become a dragon—and were cheering about something. After watching them for a few moments, she realized what was happening. They’d put the last block into place. The forklifts were powering down. A mini celebration swept through the crowd.
Wanda Boyle was at the center of the scene, snapping photos with a small digital camera, like a seasoned pro.
She’s right where I should be, Candy thought as a strange feeling swept through her. She realized that Wanda was moving in on her territory, and that her place in town was in danger of being usurped.
She knew she should probably be upset about that, but instead she just shook her head and sighed. You have to give the woman some credit, Candy thought with grudging admiration.
“I’ve got to get back over there,” she said as she turned back toward Justice. But he was gone—as she should have expected.
She scanned the park and thought she saw his black peacoat disappearing between the trees. A moment later any remaining sign of him was blocked by a group of oncoming tourists excited about the events going on in the park.
Judicious had said his piece and made an inconspicuous exit—again.
And once again, he’d left her with more questions than answers. She put her hands on her hips and let out a breath. “Okay, so… can anybody tell me what that was all about?” she said to no one in particular.
Strangely enough, she received a reply. “Talking to yourself again?”
Candy twisted around. Maggie had come up behind her.
“Oh, hi, Mags. No, not really. There was someone here a few moments ago—though not right then, when I said that last sentence. I suppose I was alone then, wasn’t I? So yes, the answer to your question is yes, I was talking to myself. But not the whole time.” She paused and made a face. “I don’t suppose that makes any sense, does it?”
Maggie tilted her head. “You know, strangely enough, in a Candy Holliday sort of way, it does. If you were anyone else, I’d recommend a really good psychiatrist. I’d even call and make an appointment for you. But given what’s happened around here the past few years, I’ve learned to avoid snap judgments. So I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
Candy drew her head back. “Wow, good answer. But I’m not sure if I should be impressed or depressed.” In a lowered voice, she added, “Do I really sound that crazy?”
Maggie laughed. “Maybe just a little, but around here I don’t think anyone will notice. So what’s up?”
Candy shook her head. “You know, I’m not really sure. But it looks like we’ve got another mystery on our hands. And that’s what’s got me worried.”
Maggie gave her a sympathetic smile and pointed with her eyes to the inn off to their right. “How about a glass of wine, and we can talk it over?”
Candy clapped a hand on her friend’s shoulder and looked around for Ben. “You’ve been reading my mind.”
EIGHT
“So you think it’s happening again?” Maggie asked.
Candy took a thoughtful sip of her second glass of white wine. She’d just told Maggie about her encounter with Judicious, and she needed a few moments to formulate an answer. Finally she let out a tense breath. “To be honest, yes. I’ve been trying hard all day not to overreact. I mean, that’s the smart thing to do, right? To try to keep a level head about all this? But after talking to Judicious, I have to agree with him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we should have heard something about Solomon by now, right? The police can’t seem to find him. Why not? Where is he?”
“Maybe he’s just lost,” Maggie said, trying to be helpful.
“Maybe. Or maybe he really is in trouble. Maybe, like Judicious said, someone’s after him. Maybe he’s hiding out in the woods, afraid for his life. Maybe he’s injured and needs our help.”
“And we’re sitting here drinking wine,” Maggie said, looking down at her glass.
“Exactly. The truth is, if Judicious thinks something’s up, it’s hard for me not to believe him. He’s essentially corroborating Solomon’s story. And you know what that means?”
“What?” Maggie asked.
“It means Solomon was right—there really was a body in the woods.”
That seemed to surprise them both, and they sat for a few moments in silence as the other guests in the inn’s lounge moved obliviously past them.
After walking over from Town Park, they’d settled into a corner booth and ordered glasses of an aromatic Chardonnay from Washington State. Ben had not yet arrived, but that had given the two of them a chance to talk about the day’s events.
“So,” Maggie said, trying hard not to sound too ominous, “what should we do about it?”
“I think,” Candy replied, “that we need to be proactive rather than reactive.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we need to search the woods ourse
lves.”
Maggie’s eyes went wide. “You’re not thinking of doing it right now, are you?”
“No—much as I’d like to. But it’s too late in the day. By the time we got out there it’d be starting to get dark. We wouldn’t have enough time to conduct a thorough search. Tomorrow, maybe, depending on what happens.”
“We?”
“What?”
“You said, By the time we got out there.…”
“Oh yeah, I guess I did. Well, I don’t think I should go alone. That would be irresponsible, right, given what we might find? So I thought about you—”
“Me?” Maggie squeaked, both excited and scared at the same time.
“—but I figured you’re probably working all day tomorrow, aren’t you?”
Maggie just as quickly deflated. “Oh yeah, that’s right, I am. Darn, I always seem to keep missing out, don’t I? Because it really would be fun, you know—tramping around the woods all day, freezing my toes off, looking for a crazy old hermit and a dead body, catching a cold, being bedridden for days or weeks, maybe dying of pneumonia. But, you know, good times.”
“That’s such a gracious way of putting it,” Candy said with an admiring smile.
“It is, isn’t it? It’s one of my skills, you know—being able to quickly summarize your little mysteries.”
“Obviously you missed your calling. So, anyway, I figure I need to take someone who’s the outdoorsy type, someone who’s got decent survival skills and knows how to find his way out of the woods if we get lost. That’s why I’m going to ask Ben to go with me.”
Now it was Maggie’s turn to give her friend a knowing smile. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. It’ll be nice for you and him to get out and do something—spend a little time together. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been planning this.”
“Actually it’s a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, but it seems like the most sensible approach. If we should happen to run into any trouble with Solomon, or whoever’s chasing him, or whatever it is that’s out there in the woods, at least I’ll have Ben there to get us out of a jam.”
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