by Anne Canadeo
“You’re going out with him?” Lucy wasn’t quite sure that’s what Maggie meant.
Maggie nodded and turned her attention back to the yarn swift. “Uh-huh. Tonight.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Maggie shrugged. “I guess I got tired of putting him off. Maybe Dana’s right. I might like him more than I think. I just don’t like the idea of liking anybody … if you know what I mean.”
Lucy had heard Dana give Maggie that analysis, but never thought Maggie really heard the advice.
“Just relax and try to enjoy yourself. It’s only a date.”
“Oh dear … that’s what everyone says. Why does that advice make me feel like I’m going to the dentist?”
Maggie stood up and detached the swift from the table.
Lucy stood up, too. She had to smile at Maggie’s dismay. Her friend was really forcing herself to go through with this. She must have taken pity on the poor guy. But Lucy hoped it would turn out fine and Maggie would have a much better time than she expected.
On Sunday afternoon Lucy did manage to escape her office and went out with Matt on a small sailboat he’d borrowed from a friend.
Neither of them were experienced sailors, but somehow that made it more fun. Together, they knew enough to maneuver the boat in and out of the harbor without mishap and glided along the open water without luffing the sails, riding up on rocks, or totally capsizing.
Outside the harbor, with blue water and sky as far as the eye could see, Lucy did feel distant from everything. Her work pressures and the cupboard of troubling thoughts she carried around in her head, including the torpid pace of Matt’s divorce. Even questions about Gloria’s death seemed far away, like the tiny buildings on the shore. Having Matt close all day was a perfect distraction and she always felt happy and calm around him.
Matt had to be up very early on Monday to perform several surgeries, so he decided it was best if he didn’t stay over. Lucy would have liked him to, but it was just as well. She used the extra hours at night and in the early morning to complete her work and sent the files off by e-mail to her client before lunchtime.
As she cleaned up her office and picked up around the house, she wondered about Maggie’s date with Nick Cooper. She hadn’t heard from Maggie yesterday and didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one.
Lucy was sifting through a pile of newspaper, trying to figure out what belonged in the recycle bin, when she stopped to read an article in the Plum Harbor Times. The news item was placed fairly deep in the issue, back on page five. But the headline quickly caught her eye.
“DEC Officials Apprehended for Alleged Fraudulent Reporting.” The article went on to describe how a local official of the Department of Environmental Conservation had been investigated for accepting bribes from large corporations in exchange for false reports on toxic land issues and cleanups.
She swiftly read through the paragraphs, coming to a riveting phrase: “… and land development firms have been named in the court documents filed yesterday, such as the Avalon Group, in regard to the Sea Breeze Colony, which is still under construction.”
The Avalon Group, again. This time, she noticed, there was no statement from the Avalon spokesman, attorney Michael Novak, pledging the firm’s commitment to the health and safety of Essex County residents.
There was no mention of him at all. And yet, Lucy had a creepy feeling that somehow this late-breaking news blast did fit in the picture somewhere.
She wasn’t sure when the paper was from and quickly checked the date on the top of the page. Friday, June 19. She’d been so busy the last few days, she hadn’t kept up much with the news. Thank goodness she hadn’t thrown it out.
She ripped out the page, then went to her computer and found the other article she’d seen, the one that talked about the Sea Breeze housing development and the land contamination there. She printed it out and saved it with the scrap of newspaper.
Did this mean that the Avalon Group had bribed the government’s environmental engineers to deliver a favorable report on their toxic building site? Which meant that the entire project had to be torn down. What a loss. And in today’s economy, too.
A pretty big hit, Lucy thought, even for a group with deep pockets. A pretty big secret to keep, too.
Was it a secret worth killing somebody over?
Lucy quickly pushed the thought aside. It was hard enough to think of poor Gloria dying by accident. Imagining her scared and terrorized was too much.
Lucy checked the clock on the stove. It was nearly 3:00. She decided to jump in the shower and then show Maggie these articles. It was too complicated to explain it over the phone. The shop would be quiet at this hour and they could talk without too many interruptions.
It was too hot outside to walk, so Lucy drove her Jeep the short distance into town, the news articles tucked into her knitting bag. What would Maggie think of this twist, she wondered? What was there to think? Imagine if that development had gone up and nobody learned about the bogus report? Lives would have been in danger, Lucy thought.
Some people had no conscience. Lucy was relieved when she figured out that Gloria had sold her share of the firm well before their involvement in the Sea Breeze project, relieved and satisfied. Gloria had been aggressive in business, that was for sure, but their former friend wasn’t ruthless. She would never have acted so unethically. Lucy was sure of it.
Lucy parked and walked up to the shop. It was well past lunch hour and she knew she wouldn’t find her pals, Suzanne and Dana, brown-bagging it on the porch. But she did find Jamie, sitting with Maggie in a pair of fan-back wicker chairs.
Maggie was busily knitting; it looked like the square with the shooting star for the center of the blanket. Jamie sat nearby, both sipping from tall glasses of iced tea.
Lucy forced a smile, but secretly felt disappointed. She didn’t want to talk about the newspaper articles she’d found in front of him. That conversation would definitely include Mike Novak and she needed to consult with her friends on the best way to handle this latest hot potato that had been tossed her way.
Lucy hoped Jamie wouldn’t stay too long and she could wait him out.
“Hello, Lucy. Did you finish that blue yarn already?” Maggie asked her cheerfully.
“Yes, I’m zipping along. I was in town so I thought I’d grab more yarn.” Blue yarn for her blanket squares was far from the reason for her visit, but seemed like a good excuse right now.
Lucy sat down in a wicker chair near Jamie. A group of women on the other end of the porch sat at the wrought-iron table, knitting together, but she didn’t think they could overhear the conversation.
“How are you doing, Jamie?” Lucy looked him over. She could tell his worries and grief weighed heavily.
“Hanging in there,” he replied, forcing a brief smile.
“Any word back from the police?” Lucy asked. “Do you think they’ll reopen the case?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s too early to say. But I did call again this morning, just to give that detective a nudge—”
“Walsh, you mean.” Maggie filled in the blank for him. “I’d like to give him a nudge. I’d like to give him a poke with one of these.” She held up one of her knitting needles and grinned slyly.
A slight smile hovered on Jamie’s mouth, but he soon looked serious again. “I don’t think they’re going to do anything more. I don’t think they’re taking much interest.”
“That’s too bad,” Lucy said sincerely. If the police didn’t follow up, she and her friends might feel obliged to step forward and offer their suspicions and what they’d put together so far. But could they go around Jamie’s back to do that? It didn’t seem right.
“I’m not surprised,” Maggie said. “The police are a little dense in this town.”
“I’ve been thinking, Jamie, if the police won’t take a second look at Gloria’s accident, you could always hire a private investi
gator. I’ll bet Dana’s husband can give you a good recommendation.” Lucy hoped her tone was persuasive but not too pushy.
“That’s an excellent idea.” Maggie put her knitting down and looked over at Jamie. “A friend of Jack’s might give you a break on the charges, too.”
“If they find new information”—which we would contribute, too, Lucy silently added—“you could bring it to the police and they’d have to follow through.”
Jamie rubbed his bearded chin. “That is a good idea. Then we’d all know for sure if anything else happened that night, besides poor Gloria just … losing control and taking a bad fall.”
“It would give you some closure,” Maggie advised him. “And us, as well.”
“I’ll give the police another day or two. If they put me off with more excuses, I’ll hire somebody,” he agreed. “I think we’ll all feel better getting to the bottom of it.”
Lucy was relieved to hear him say that, though she wasn’t sure that the real answers to these questions were going to make anybody feel better. Most likely, they’d feel a lot worse.
“Well, that’s settled, then.” Maggie took a sip from her glass. “Would you like some iced tea, Lucy? It’s over on the table. By the way, I didn’t expect to see you today; weren’t you in lockdown mode, trying to meet some deadline?”
Lucy rose and poured herself a glass of tea. “I got the work in this morning, just under the wire.”
“Good for you.” Maggie nodded at her.
“Good for you, Lucy. It’s nice to hear someone’s work is going well.” Jamie spoke quietly, his tone edged with self-contempt.
“Jamie … you can’t expect yourself to be painting right now. It’s totally understandable if you need to take a break.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling myself.” He swallowed hard and stared down at his hands. “But sometimes I think if I could work, it would make me feel better. It would be some distraction from missing Gloria so much, and everything else that’s going on.”
Lucy felt sorry for him. She knew what he meant. Sometimes work was the perfect escape. It seemed an extra cruel twist that along with losing Gloria, his painting had been taken away from him, too.
“I understand,” Maggie said quietly. She reached out and briefly touched his shoulder. “You should try to work, then. How do you feel about the gallery show? Have you thought any more about it?”
“I can’t do it,” he said bluntly. “I have to be straight with the guy who owns the gallery. I just keep putting it off.”
Maggie’s expression fell. Lucy felt concerned, too. “Maybe it can be postponed,” she suggested. “Gloria wouldn’t have wanted you to miss this opportunity, Jamie.”
“She was so proud of your talent. She had so much confidence in you,” Maggie reminded him. “She was sure you’d be a great success. This show was going to be the start.”
“That’s just it. I can’t do it without her. She was my center, my base. I was never able to bare down and really focus before I met her. She gave me that,” he told them. “And now, without her, I’m just flying off in all directions again. I don’t know where to start.”
He’d lost his confidence without Gloria. It was as simple as that, Lucy realized. Making art—real art—was sort of a high-wire act without a net. The artist had to have a clear head and strong focus and the utmost confidence that they would not tumble. Jamie had felt that kind of confidence for a short time, but had lost it now.
“You’re letting the negative voices in your head get control, Jamie. ‘If a candle will doubt, it will go out,’” Maggie said quietly.
He grinned sadly. “Who said that?”
“Emily Dickinson.”
“Her heroine,” Lucy added. Maggie glanced over, but didn’t correct her.
“I’ve seen your work,” Maggie said. “You have talent. Plenty of it. But talent isn’t enough. I think you might regret it if you miss this chance to move forward with your career,” she said honestly. “I think you should go back in the studio and try to work through it. Try to remember all the encouragement Gloria gave you. She’s still there, you know. Watching and cheering you on.”
Jamie’s eyes glazed over. He nodded without saying anything. He rubbed his face with his hands and took a deep breath.
“I think you could help, Maggie,” he said, turning toward her.
“Me? What can I do?”
“I’d like to do your portrait. Would you sit for me?” he asked in a quiet, almost shy voice.
Maggie leaned back and laughed nervously. “There are plenty of women around here who’d make far better models, Jamie. In case you haven’t noticed.”
“No … you’re the one. Will you do it? It would help me, honestly,” he added.
Lucy waited to see what Maggie would finally say. She had started fiddling around with her knitting again, but Lucy could tell Maggie was stalling.
“Oh well … if you really want me to. I guess it would be okay.” She glanced up quickly at him, then back at the dark blue square she had just begun. “You know I’m not very good at sitting still for long periods of time. I mean, unless I’m occupied in some way …”
“She means, unless she’s knitting,” Lucy translated for him.
Maggie was in fact one of the most indefatigable people Lucy had ever met. She was like a honey bee, always buzzing around in some productive task.
“I’ll do a portrait of you knitting, then,” Jamie offered. “That would be perfect. You could sit right here, or inside the shop.”
“Oh … well, that could be fun.” Maggie seemed to warm up to the idea once knitting needles were included. “Let me think about it. I like both those ideas.”
“Great. I’m glad you’ll do it.” He gave her a grateful look, then stood up and picked up his car keys and sunglasses from the wicker side table.
Lucy smiled as she said good-bye but was secretly pleased to see him go. She was dying to show Maggie the news article she’d found. She opened her knitting bag and fished around for it.
She’d just found it when Phoebe strolled out of the shop with her friend Crystal. “I straightened out all the stock in the back of the store and unpacked the delivery. Do you think I could leave a little early today, Maggie?”
Maggie glanced at her watch. “Is it nearly five already? Okay, you can go. It is pretty slow this afternoon.”
“Must be the hot weather,” Lucy said. “Most people just want to stay inside, in their air-conditioning.”
“Most people do,” Phoebe agreed, sounding grouchy.
Maggie sighed. “Phoebe wants me to turn the air higher. But it’s a big expense and with people walking in and out all day, it makes it worse. It’s not very good for the environment. I’d just as soon get another overhead fan.”
Phoebe put her hands to her head, as if the wind from a huge fan was going to blow her away. “No, not another fan. Please, no … it’s like working in a wind storm.”
“Why don’t you and Crystal have some iced tea?” Maggie soothed her irrate helper. “There’s a big pitcher of it, right over there,” she offered, “and some cookies.”
The young women looked at each other, then silently agreed to try the tea and cookies. They filled their glasses and sat at the wrought-iron table at the other side of the porch, which was now empty.
“You’d think since she’s so young, she’d be more green-minded,” Maggie said with a sigh. “You can’t have summer without hot weather. I don’t understand why people complain so much about it.”
“Neither do I,” Lucy said. She was not a huge fan of air-conditioning either. But maybe that was because she’d been raised in Massachusetts and shivered through so many frigid winters, she appreciated summer weather when it finally came.
“Do you want that blue yarn? I have more inside.” Maggie put her work aside, about to get up and get it.
“I didn’t really stop by for yarn,” Lucy confessed. “I wanted to show you something.” She took out the articles and
handed them over to Maggie. “Something I didn’t want to talk about in front of Jamie.”
“Oh … what’s this?” Maggie asked curiously as Lucy handed over the articles.
“I was throwing out some newspapers this morning and saw that article. It mentions Gloria’s old firm, the Avalon Group.”
Maggie pushed her reading glasses higher on her nose and read the scrap of newspaper with interest. “I must have missed this. When did it appear?”
“In Friday’s paper. I missed it, too. But a few days ago, I was sitting at the computer and goofing off, and I found this article, too. Also about the Avalon Group and that pollution situation at the Sea Breeze Colony site.”
She gave Maggie the first article she’d found, the one that mentioned Mike Novak, then waited while Maggie read it. Phoebe and Crystal had their heads close together, drinking iced tea and munching cookies. They glanced over a few times, then started laughing at something.
Lucy couldn’t imagine what was so amusing, but was sure it wasn’t flattering.
“Well … that’s interesting.” Maggie handed the articles back to her. “Mike Novak again. His name keeps popping up, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. We’re not imagining that.” Lucy stuffed the papers in her purse and sat back. “I checked the dates. Gloria had already sold out her share to her partners when Avalon started the Sea Breeze project last spring, so she wasn’t any part of that bribery situation.”
“I noticed that timing, too,” Maggie said. “But she was still involved with Mike. Dana said she didn’t break it off until last fall, before she went down to Florida.”
“Maybe she knew and he gave her the property in exchange for her silence,” Lucy speculated. “Though I hate to think of her doing something like that.”
“I hate to think that of her, either. If those houses had ever gone up, people could have gotten sick. They could have died.”
“Gloria was a tough businesswoman, but she had a good heart. Look at all the work she did for charities,” Lucy reminded her friend. “I don’t think she knew anything about it. Novak could have kept it from her.”