“Too many memories?”
“I guess. It’s just creeping me out to be there. That place has a lot of ghosts.”
The Sheriff signed deeply. “I understand. And, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to move back in there. You know, I’ve been thinking about that. We could just trade places.”
“I do like your house.”
“Done. But, you need to clean my mother’s house first. I’m not moving into a shit hole. That house was a palace when my mother was alive.”
“I remember.”
“Then why’d you let it…” The Sheriff’s voice trailed off when he saw the former Vice President enter the restaurant with a golfing buddy. “Okay, we’re out of here.”
Leonard looked up from his plate and watched Daryl Farr take a seat on the opposite side of the room. The Veep hadn’t noticed the police officers yet.
“I’m going to go to the station and see what else we’ve got. I’m expecting the autopsy results any time now.” The Sheriff stood up and looked back down at his son. “I don’t want you looking at that report. Stay out of the station for a few more days, okay?”
“If you say so.”
“Go home and start cleaning. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own room again.”
“So, you can go home again,” Leonard said.
“I guess so.”
* * *
Across town, an unnerved Gerald Gains stood outside of his barn with a salesman from ADT Security. The man was making extensive notes in a notebook and did some calculations on his iPhone.
“Alright, sir. I think I’ve got it all. We’re looking at eight cameras, all infrared. They’ll be tied to the security system you already have installed and active in the main house, but on the app, or on your computer, you’ll be able to switch on just the house or just the barn separately. The cameras will always be recording and it’ll all be backed up to a cloud drive. You’ll have access to video going back two weeks at a time.”
“And the motion detectors?”
“We’re going to do a perimeter trip system. Now, because of all your trees and the winds we get, we can’t do the whole property, or your alarms would be ringing all day and night. So, we’ll do something a little closer to the barn and it won’t be very sensitive. But, if anyone walks up to the barn when it’s activated, we’ll certainly be able to pick that up.”
“Day and night,” Gerald said flatly.
“Day and night. As long as you turn it on.”
“Oh, it’ll be on.”
“And I’d get a locksmith or gate guy out here and put locks on the barn doors.”
“It’s already in the pipeline.”
“Good,” the salesman said. “Then I think your animals will be safe, sir. I still can’t believe someone would want to harm such a loving creature. It boggles the mind.”
“It does indeed.”
“Are there any leads?”
“Probably not. I don’t have much confidence in the bumbling Wabanaki Police Department. The Sheriff sent over an eighth grader to investigate instead of coming himself. She’s here somewhere.”
Officer Kristin Grant appeared out of nowhere and startled both men. “Actually, sir, I’m in the ninth grade.”
“I’m sorry, Officer,” Gerald said. “I was only kidding. You look so very young to me though.”
“Sir, Sheriff Little apologizes deeply for not coming out here himself, but he’s got a human murder on his hands.”
Gerald nodded his head sheepishly. “But I have a murder on my hands.”
“We know, Mr. Gains,” she said. “And we are sympathetic. I’ve made some notes and I took lots of pictures. I dusted for finger prints on the barn door handles like you asked. I’m afraid there just isn’t anything there.”
“I usually have gloves on.”
“And I suspect the perpetrator did, too. Frankly, sir, I don’t think we’re going to figure out who did this, which is why I’m happy to see ADT here. The extra security measures will help a lot and should be a deterrent.”
“Agreed. But meanwhile, why don’t you run over to The Lobster Shanty and pick up Porter Maddox? Why hasn’t that been done yet? The boy is a lunatic and he’s killed two of my animals.”
“We don’t know that, sir. But, because of last time—his conviction—well, I’m going to talk to him. I promise.”
“I want him arrested and behind bars for more than five minutes or I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”
“That is something you most certainly will not be doing if you know what’s best for you, Mr. Gains. We’ll take care of it.” And the officer started back to her car.
Gerald waited until the deputy was out of ear shot then turned to the ADT salesman. “She can’t be more than 18 years old, right?”
“She is young,” the salesman said. “But they all look young to me now. Hell, I see kids driving cars and I do a double take. I always want to pull them over and ask for an ID.”
“Getting old sucks.”
* * *
The Honeycrisp apple tree in Tanner’s front yard had been hit by lightning two summers before and ever since, the apples it produced had a strange taste. Tanner’s wife Wanda thought he was bonkers and claimed that she couldn’t detect a difference, but Tanner had sworn off them. He avoided the apple sauce she canned and passed up the pies she baked.
He stood under the tree and inspected the small green fruit that peaked out between the green leaves. It’d be well into August before the fruit was ripe enough to pick but he plucked one nonetheless and chucked it as hard as he could across the lawn.
“What the fuck?!”
The apple bounced off Wanda’s shoulder and hit the ground.
“Oh geez, honey,” he said, rushing toward her. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I didn’t even know you were out here.”
“I came out here to tell you that your damned cell phone is ringing constantly inside the house.” She massaged her shoulder with one hand and pushed him away from her body with the other. “I don’t understand why you threw that apple at me!”
“I told you, it was a mistake.”
“How is picking an apple that you aren’t even supposed to be picking yet and throwing it at your wife an accident?!”
“My mind was elsewhere.”
“And elsewhere is where you should be,” she said, turning to return to the house. “Go to work.”
“I’m taking tonight off.”
Wanda stopped and turned back to face him. “Daddy would be very upset. He needs you tending to his restaurant.”
“Daddy wouldn’t know it if I walked into his room naked with my hair on fire.”
“Tanner! He can’t help it.”
“I know that.”
“Then don’t make fun of someone with Alzheimer’s. Honestly. What is wrong with you?”
“Wanda, the restaurant is fine. I told you that I was going to Skyler’s tonight. Brenda is cooking.”
She sighed deeply. “Fine. Have fun with your friends. I’m going to have dinner at my mother’s house.”
“I knew that,” he said, “that’s why I didn’t feel bad about going to Skyler’s without you.”
“I don’t like that woman, Tanner.”
“Yes, I knew that, too, dear.”
“She’s after you. Always has been.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not this again,” he said, walking closer to her. “For the ten thousandth time, we are just friends.”
“Uh huh.” And Wanda disappeared back inside the house.
Tanner grabbed another apple off the tree and threw it in the opposite direction.
“Stop doing that!?” she screamed from inside the house. “Honestly!”
Of course, Tanner’s wife was right, but she had it completely backwards. He had been pining fo
r his friend since they met in grade school and Skyler well knew all about it. Brenda knew it. Leonard knew it. Everyone in Wabanaki knew that Tanner Millhouse was in love with Skyler Moore, except Wanda. Or maybe she did know it, too, and was very good at hiding it.
Every summer since Skyler left to go to college, it was the same thing. The feelings all rushed back to the surface when she’d reappear and open her cottage for the season. He knew that he’d get to spend the dozen weeks between Memorial Day and Labor Day with her: several long, frustrating weeks without the physical contact he so desired. Skyler was his everything and he both treasured and hated June, July, and August for the way the summer yo-yoed with his emotions.
There were dozens of long talks and scores of his pathetic love letters, but she just didn’t feel the same way. She was always kind, but firm. She would tell him how much she treasured him as a friend, but beyond a hug or a quick peck on the cheek, she always kept her distance. He was forced to watch as she dated different guys, and with each one, he systematically plotted the man’s murder in his head. And when each relationship ultimately fell apart, Tanner rejoiced and danced and dreamed of his own wife getting hit by a car causing Skyler to feel so sorry for him enough that she’d fall into his widowed arms and finally profess her undying love.
Pipe dreams, he knew.
But he’d always been a day dreamer, and it helped pass the time. For the time being, he was warmed by the fact that he would be spending the entire evening with her. He hoped everyone else would get called away so that they could sit on her screened porch and sip wine and watch the world go by together.
It happened just that way the previous summer. It was fleeting, but magical.
“Are you just going to stand in this yard all afternoon looking like a crazy person with that insane smile on your face?” Wanda had their son Charlie by the hand, leading him to the minivan. “I’m headed to visit my father then to my mother’s house for dinner. I may or may not sleep over; you know how she always pressures us to stay since she’s in that big house all alone. I’ll text you either way.”
“Bye, honey,” Tanner said then called out after his son, “See ya later, buddy boy.” He turned and walked to the house where he spent a good 45 minutes trying to figure out what to wear to dinner. He ended up choosing a pair of white chinos and a pale pink button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, because Skyler always seemed to compliment him when he went the preppy route.
THIRTEEN
Augie Alameda had never stepped foot in Maine in his entire life, but he was always looking for the next hot thing and he had a feeling that the rocky coastal town would fit the bill. Even if he was wrong about Wabanaki, he was determined to make it a happening place, for a generous benefactor.
He parked his rented Range Rover in front of the Old Sea Captain’s Inn and tossed the keys to the young valet. Brenda popped out the front door and embraced her old friend.
“I’m so glad you called me,” she said. “How was the drive?”
“Uneventful,” he said. “You look fabulous.”
“You lie, but thank you. What are you really doing here? Don’t you usually spend the entire summer in the Hamptons with the boys and your rich bitch lady friends?”
“Not the entire summer, but a hell of a lot of it,” he said with a snicker, as they walked arm in arm to the bar. “Oh good. I just knew there would be a cute little bar in this place. It’s perfect, huh?”
“I guess I think everything in Maine is perfect. And quaint. But I grew up here so I’m generally immune to it.”
“I get that. I guess.” He pulled out a stool for her to sit on. “I always need fresh blood, right? So, I’m putting Wabanaki on the fucking map this summer. It’s what I do,” he said in a sing-song voice.
“The original social media influencer. I owe my entire career to you, pal. How can I ever repay you?”
“Hush,” he said. “What are you drinking?”
“Prosecco, I guess. But just one. I need to get home and start cooking. I told you, I have a group coming over to Skyler’s for dinner tonight.”
“You know I can’t come.”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“I’m not fond of that friend of yours.”
“And she’s not fond of you, Augie. Even-fucking-Steven.”
“I don’t want to hate her,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, “but she just rubs me the wrong way. Our paths crossed a few years ago down in D.C. I was working with a client to make those insanely addictive French Toast bagels a thing and she was representing the bakery. It was a mess. We kept stepping all over each other.”
“It happens in your unique line of work, I imagine.”
“Yeah, but we somehow managed to get that bakery their own reality television show and lines around the block. And my unique line of work, as you call it, has afforded me all the luxuries that I have come to rely on, thanks to French Toast bagels, among other things. It may be unconventional, and I may be the oldest living man doing this shit, but I’ll take it. I’ve taken it!”
“And I admire you for that,” Brenda said. “What’s the angle you’re going to try for Wabanaki? And who’s paying you? That’s the more important question.”
“Well, this is the fun part. And I’m only telling you this.” He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “I don’t know. A very large sum of money was transferred to my bank account and a typed, unsigned letter followed in the mail. The snail mail, if you can believe that.”
“An honest to goodness typed letter? On a typewriter?”
“It appeared to be, yes. I didn’t even know people had such contraptions anymore. Where do you even buy ribbon for one? I wouldn’t know.”
“I don’t know either. So, you have no idea who it might be? This client?”
“Not a clue. But he or she is very interested in putting this little seaside town on the map. I don’t ask why, Brenda. I just do it and cash the checks.”
“There’s not a lot of money being made here, but there’s a lot of money in Wabanaki, that’s for sure,” Brenda said. “Granted, most of it was made somewhere else. Not a lot of people are making that kind of…”
“Kind of what? Why’d you stop talking?” Augie asked.
“Blueberries.”
“I don’t follow. Did you forget to buy them?”
“No. Blueberries have made our current mayor a filthy rich woman. She could be behind the push to get us on the map.”
“Us?”
“I grew up here, Augie! This is my hometown. I don’t own a house here currently, but I will eventually. This is where I want to spend the summers during my twilight years. Hell, it’s where I’m spending my summer this summer. Even with all my projects, I just can’t stay away. It’s a place like no other. As you’ll see after you spend some time here.”
“Indeed. I guess I need a good hard look around.”
“Just don’t ruin it.”
Augie feigned a horrorstruck look. “I don’t ruin things. I make them better.”
“Alright,” she said, “All I’m saying is that if your followers and their followers and their followers all start descending on sleepy little coastal towns in Maine, they won’t be sleepy for very long.”
“I think that, my dear celebrity chef—who is a celebrity chef because my followers and their followers and their followers started eating at your restaurants and watching your television shows and making the recipes out of your expensive cookbooks—is the fucking idea.”
“Touché.” She finished her sparkling wine and set the glass onto the wooden bar. “Point taken. And thank you very, very much.”
“You’re welcome very, very much. So, point me in the right direction. Where should I eat tonight?”
“The Old Wabanaki Chowder House, naturally.”
* * *
Back at Skyler’s place, Brenda busily
prepared a watermelon, sweet red onion, cucumber, and feta salad to accompany the steaks she intended to grill for the gang. It wasn’t an altogether inventive dish, but it was perfect for summer and was a proven crowd pleaser. The secret was in the sauce. Or the dressing, as the case may be, and she concocted it from nearly a dozen different herbs, spices, and oils. When that was finished, she helped herself to a bottle of wine from the refrigerator then got to work shucking corn. She’d bypass the boiling water method and slather each cob with a mixture of homemade mayonnaise, store bought sour cream, and Old Bay seasoning. They were each wrapped in heavy duty aluminum foil and would be grilled for 45 minutes. The creamy sauce would melt into the kernels, producing a succulent treat that wouldn’t need a bit of melted butter to enjoy.
She was convinced the simple meal would please her guests. They had better enjoy it; she spent a fortune on the meat, opting for a Strassburger dry aged rib eye, that cost more than most people spent on a monthly car payment.
When Skyler returned to the house, the friends enjoyed a glass of wine on the porch while Skyler told Brenda all about the meeting with the reporter.
“He seems like an ass,” Brenda said.
“I agree. But we might get a nifty little piece out of him. The town needs it.”
“That reminds me. Guess who I had a drink with this afternoon?”
“I couldn’t guess.”
“Augie Alameda.”
“Augie is here in Wabanaki? No way.”
“He is. And he looks great.” Brenda topped off her wine glass. “I’m going to be drunk before I have to start cooking.”
“Who cares. We’re on vacation,” Skyler said, reaching for the bottle, “What is that creep doing here?”
“He’s not a creep.”
“You know I do not like that man,” Skyler said.
“He was paid by some secret benefactor to put this town on the map.”
“I’m flabbergasted. Really?”
Brenda nodded her head. “He wouldn’t give me a figure, but from the course of our conversation, I’m guessing it was over $100,000 worth of social media publicity.”
The Maine Nemesis Page 9