by Lee Hollis
I immediately telephoned Mona as soon as I got home, and told her if she brought over a few pounds of those fresh clams to my house the following evening, I would whip up my famous clams linguini for us. I would also invite Liddy, who could provide her delectable Bellinis, and a fun girls’ night in was on the books!
The only hiccup—and truth be told, it was a happy one—was our girls’ night in fell by the wayside when my boss Sal’s wife, Rosana, called to see if I was free for the evening, because my husband Bruce was going out for a couple of beers and a few games of pool at Drinks Like A Fish with Sal, so of course I asked Rosana to join us girls for the evening. But when Rosana informed Sal that I was making clams linguine, the pool game was cancelled and Bruce and Sal were suddenly horning in on girls’ night. Since we were expanding to a full-blown dinner party, I told Liddy and Mona they might as well bring dates too, so I would be serving dinner for eight.
The evening was a resounding success. Everyone raved about Mona’s fresh clams with my garlic linguine, Liddy’s Bellinis were a major hit, and with a little prompting, the usual storytelling at the table began with Mona, Sal, and Bruce all trying to one-up each other with their hilarious fishing stories.
That’s when Mona looked at Liddy, and asked her if she remembered her first time clamming. Liddy clearly did not want to relive that particular memory, especially in front of her date, so she ignored Mona, which of course, proved to be her undoing. Mona got everyone’s attention and launched into the legendary tale, much to poor Liddy’s dismay.
It was the summer when we were all sixteen years old. Mona had just gotten her driver’s license, and invited Liddy and me to accompany her up to the Trenton campground that her parents’ friends owned to go swimming in their pool. Liddy and I instantly jumped at the chance, since it was a scorchingly hot August afternoon. The three of us jumped into Mona’s truck (I swear, it is the same beat-up one she still tools around in today) and headed to Trenton.
As we crossed the Trenton Bridge, just minutes from the campground, Mona casually mentioned that she had to get some clams for her mother for supper that night. Liddy’s head swiveled around so fast toward Mona that I honestly thought it would fall right off her shoulders.
“What do you mean, get some clams? Don’t you mean pick up some clams?”
I groaned, knowing full well that Mona meant she needed to dig for clams out in front of the campground, since it sat just above the ocean, where all the guests would walk down the wooden steps to stroll along the rocky beach at high tide and dip their toes in the icy Atlantic Ocean. However, at low tide, it was an entirely different story. There was always that undeniable stench of the clamflats, and if you drove across the Trenton Bridge with your car windows down, it could be overwhelming. And that’s exactly what I smelled as we crossed over and turned into the campground. Mona expected the three of us to dig for clams after a quick swim in the pool. We had been snookered into accompanying her and performing hard labor. I should have been tipped off by the three pairs of waders I had spotted in the back of Mona’s flatbed!
Liddy was more concerned with muddying up her expensive designer one-piece bathing suit, which I knew was a lie since I had been with her when she bought it off the rack at JCPenney in Bangor.
Mona grabbed a bag of live lobsters that her mom was giving her friends from the back of the truck, and ran them in to the campground office as Liddy and I got our towels and headed to the pool.
Liddy’s mood brightened considerably as soon as we passed through the gates into the pool area and she spotted a trio of cute teenaged boys joking around with each other, clearly on vacation.
For the next hour, we had a blast flirting, splashing, and playing water volleyball with some of the boys, before taskmaster Mona informed us it was time to pay the piper. We needed to head down to the shore and dig the clams before the tide came in. We reluctantly said our goodbyes to the boys and left.
Liddy complained all the way down the wooden steps that Mona had purposely sabotaged her budding romance with the cutest boy of all, Jared, from Massachusetts. He was on the verge of asking Liddy out on a date to the movies at Reel Pizza the following night just as Mona interrupted him. I told Liddy the quicker we finished digging the clams, the sooner we could head back up to the pool so Jared could have another chance to ask for a date.
This got Liddy moving at record speed. She grabbed one of the clam hoes from Mona’s basket, and frantically began stabbing at the mud! I think all told, Liddy found about three clams in total. But luckily, Mona and I put more effort into it, and Mona was finally satisfied with her haul. I marveled at how much Mona and I were splattered with mud and how pristine and fresh as a daisy Liddy appeared, not a spot on her JCPenney designer knockoff! Mona cracked that Liddy’s loud, complaining voice probably caused all the clams to “clam up!”
As we trudged through the flats back to the beach, Liddy still moaning about how Jared had probably already left and how Mona had ruined her one chance at happiness, I could see Mona resisting the urge to push her facedown in the mud. Finally, when Liddy spun around and yelled for us to pick up the pace, that we were walking too slow, that’s when Mona lost it. She dropped her clam basket to the ground, threw down her hoe, and started running toward Liddy. Liddy, realizing she was about to wind up in a mud-wrestling match with Mona, let out a little shriek and started running, but it was slow going in the mud, and then she tripped right over a rock. She waved her arms frantically, trying desperately to regain her balance, but she lost that battle and landed face-first into the muddy clamflats.
Unfortunately for Liddy, it was at that exact moment the boy of her dreams, Jared, had come looking for her with a couple of his buddies, and they all witnessed Liddy’s spectacular pratfall into the flats. Boys will be boys, and they all couldn’t help busting up laughing, further humiliating poor Liddy.
Mona and I rushed over to help her, but she angrily shook us off, and with her pride stinging, she got up by herself, completely covered in mud, and with as much dignity as she could possibly muster, marched right past the hysterical boys, giving them a withering glare, which did manage to quiet them down. But once she was past them, inevitably there was more snickering.
Liddy did apologize to Mona and me on the way home for her constant complaining, and she promised never to put a boy ahead of her besties ever again. Of course, that lasted until a few hours later when Jared called and asked her out and she ditched us for the evening. Jared had gotten Mona’s phone number from the campground owners, and when he called her, Mona told him how to get in touch with Liddy. Luckily, Jared brought along two friends, dates for me and Mona, and we all ended up going out together. We hung out with the boys for the rest of their vacation, and it gave us girls a fun summer story to tell when we got back to school that fall.
Liddy still sees Jared to this day when he visits the island with his wife and young family, and they stay at the same campground each summer for vacation. And in the biggest surprise of all, Liddy even taught Jared’s kids how to dig for clams!
All this talk about clam linguine has, of course, gotten my mouth watering. But first, how about a favorite cocktail of mine to enjoy before dinner?
LIDDY’S STRAWBERRY BELLINIS
INGREDIENTS
3 cups fresh strawberries (green tops cut off)
¼ cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons brandy
2 cups sparkling strawberry Moscato
4 strawberries for garnish (optional)
In a blender, blend the strawberries, powdered sugar and brandy until smooth. Chill in the refrigerator for at least a half hour.
Divide the strawberry mixture into four champagne flutes, then top each one with a half cup each of Moscato, and garnish with a strawberry, if using.
LINGUINI AND CLAM SAUCE
INGREDIENTS:
One pound linguini (one box)
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
6 cloves garlic, minced
&nb
sp; ½ cup chopped shallots
1 cup dry white wine (I use Pinot Grigio)
Pinch of red pepper flakes (more to taste)
2 pounds littleneck clams, washed and scrubbed
4 tablespoons butter
The zest from one lemon
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Sea salt or Kosher salt
In a large pot fill ¾ water, bring to a boil, and add two tablespoons of salt. Add your linguini and bring back to a boil. Cook as directed for al dente, but take off two minutes. You will finish cooking in the sauce.
In a large saucepan, heat your olive oil over medium-high heat until hot, add the shallots and garlic and sauté for about 30 seconds. Do not let the garlic burn or it will become bitter. Add the wine, red pepper flakes, pinch of salt, clams, and bring to a simmer, then cook covered until the clams open up, around 8 minutes. Throw away any clams that did not open after cooking.
Reserve 1 cup of the pasta water, then drain your linguine and add the pasta to the pan with the clams. Turn your heat to medium and toss the clams and pasta together, letting the pasta absorb the water. You can add some pasta water a little at a time to keep the pasta from getting dried out.
Remove the pasta from the heat and add your lemon zest, lemon juice, butter, and toss to coat. Transfer to a serving platter or individual plates.
Serve to your guests and let the compliments begin!
Chapter 18
Randy shot up in his hospital bed, eyes widening in surprise. “Murder conspiracy?”
Hayley threw up her hands to slow him down. “Now hold on, I didn’t say that. All I said was I uncovered some information that might be connected to what you witnessed. I have Bruce looking into it while he’s down in New York.”
But Randy’s mind was already off and running. “So Chef Romeo’s real name is Luca something . . .”
“Esposito.”
“And somebody blew up his house and sent him fleeing from Brooklyn, and then he randomly showed up here in Bar Harbor under a different name? That has to be it! The guy I saw was probably working as muscle for whoever had it out for Romeo back home in Brooklyn!”
“We can’t be sure of anything yet. Not until we hear back from Bruce. It’s Sunday, so he has the day off from the trial. He is going to see what he can find. He is taking the subway to Bensonhurst to meet up with Romeo’s—I mean Luca’s—cousin Alonzo, and maybe try to talk to a few more people who knew him.”
“Finally, I feel totally vindicated,” Randy exhaled, relief in his voice.
“We shouldn’t get too ahead of ourselves, Randy. It may turn up nothing.”
“He changed his name. He was obviously scared of something. It has to be connected. I wonder how they found him.”
“We should sit tight until we hear back from Bruce.”
“Sit tight? I’m going stir-crazy! I feel like a prisoner in solitary confinement! And I don’t even get one hour a day outside in the yard for a little sunlight!”
“I ran into Dr. Cormack at the nurses’ station when I arrived. He said you may get released tomorrow morning if your x-rays come back clear of disease in your pancreas.”
“I don’t know how I will survive another night. Now I know how Mary, Queen of Scots felt after surrendering to the Protestant nobles and getting locked up in that castle.”
Hayley laughed. “Don’t be such a drama queen. Nobody’s going to behead you.”
“The movie was on TV last night. I guess being cooped up here made me identify with that Irish actress whose name I can never pronounce, who played Mary,” Randy said, chuckling.
“Saoirse Ronan,” Hayley said effortlessly and perfectly.
Randy cocked an eyebrow, impressed.
“She was on Stephen Colbert once and she gave a lesson on how to say it, which stuck with me, I guess.”
“She’ll forever be known to me as Lady Bird.”
“Get some rest, and later I want you to think about what kind of food you’d like me to pick up at the Shop and Save, in the event you’re able to come home with me tomorrow.”
“There is no if! I will be leaving this place, even if I have to break out like Stallone and Schwarzenegger in Escape Plan!”
Hayley stared at him, smirking. “When was that on?”
“Two nights ago. It’s slim pickings around here. It’s not like this hospital room comes with a Netflix subscription, which is one more good reason I need to get the hell out of here.”
Hayley leaned down and kissed Randy on the forehead. “I’ll let you know when I hear back from Bruce.”
“Day or night, I don’t care what time it is. You call me. I have a good feeling we’re on the verge of breaking this case wide open!”
Hayley feared she was getting Randy’s hopes up, but the leads, at least so far, were somewhat promising.
She headed back up the hall toward the nurses’ station where Nurse Tilly was conversing with a young woman, no more than nineteen or twenty, short, barely over five feet with a curvy figure, straight, long black hair and light brown skin. Her fretful eyes were fixed upon Nurse Tilly as she clutched an ID badge in her hand.
Hayley gingerly approached, overhearing Nurse Tilly calmly explain, “We have reported him missing to the police, but unfortunately we have not heard any news yet on what they think might have happened to him.”
The woman’s bottom lip began to tremble as her eyes fell upon the badge she was holding in her hand. “But I do not understand. I just spoke to him on the phone a few days ago. He sounded perfectly fine. Where could he have gone?”
Tilly shrugged, distressed that she did not have any positive news to share. “None of his coworkers can understand either. He was so popular around here, patients were always requesting him. Everyone has come together, working overtime to cover his shifts until he—well, we’re all just praying he will turn up soon.”
The woman’s eyes brimmed with tears and Tilly grabbed a few tissues from a box on her desk. She handed them to the young woman so she could wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Tilly then noticed Hayley hovering behind the woman. “This is Hayley. She was the one who found Fredy’s badge in the parking lot.”
The woman slowly turned around and tentatively nodded, holding the badge up in her hand. “You found it just lying in the grass outside?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I’m Hayley Powell,” she said.
The woman sniffed and tried to smile, dabbing at her tear-streaked cheeks with the wadded up tissue. “Hello. I’m Fredy’s niece, Christy. I’m sorry, I’m just a little emotional right now. I don’t mean to cause a scene.”
“Please, let’s go sit down over there,” Hayley suggested, gently guiding her by the arm to the waiting area, which was empty at the moment.
Nurse Tilly gave her a grateful smile, and then went back to her work.
Hayley and Christy sat down next to each other in a couple of gray vinyl chairs.
“Can I get you some coffee?” Hayley quietly asked.
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
“Do you live here in town?”
She shook her head again. “No, I just arrived last night. I’m from Honduras, the same village where Fredy grew up, near the Mosquito Coast. Uncle Fredy invited me to come to Bar Harbor for a visit. I had been planning to stay for a whole month. But when I arrived at the airport last night, he was not there to greet me as we had arranged. I waited and waited outside the terminal for hours. I tried calling him many times, but I just got his voice mail. Finally, this morning, when the sun was coming up, I took a taxi into town. I did not know his home address, just that he worked at a hospital, and since this is the only hospital in town, I had the taxi driver drop me off here.”
Hayley could not ignore the sense of dread building up inside her, but she tried her best to maintain a mask of calm in front of Christy, who was so visibly distraught and shaken. She lightly patted Christy on the back, trying to offer her some comfort.
Christy wiped her nose
with the tissue. “Uncle Fredy was hoping I might move here and get a job. You see, I am a U.S. citizen, I was born here. My mother was Honduran, my father American. Shortly after I was born, they broke up, and my mother moved us back to Honduras to be near her family. That’s where I grew up. Uncle Fredy has been here in the States since he was seventeen, and when he would come visit us, he would constantly tell me about all the opportunities here, how I should study to be a nurse just like him. I have a business administration degree back home, but I could not find work. Although my mother did not want me to leave Honduras, I decided to at least come and see what it was like, and if there was a chance I could be happy here.”
“Is your father still in the States?”
“No,” Christy said, her voice cracking. “He died about ten years ago. He never came to see me. I never knew him. Uncle Fredy was my only family outside of Honduras.”
Christy fell silent, eyes downcast on the floor. Then, after a few moments, she muttered, “I am so worried about him.”
“Let me help you,” Hayley said, standing up.
Christy raised her gaze up at Hayley, expectantly. “Did you know my uncle?”
“Not well. But he took excellent care of my brother, who has been here for an operation, so I think I should return the favor and look after you, at least until we can locate him.”
“But how? No one seems to know where he is.”
“We can start by going to his residence. I’m certain Nurse Tilly has his home address on file. There is no reason she can’t give it to a family member. Come on, let’s go.”
“Thank you, Hayley,” Christy whispered as she stood up and tossed the wadded-up tissue in a nearby trash can.
As Christy followed close behind Hayley back to the nurses’ station, Hayley was confident her usual dogged determination to find answers would serve them well, but there was a deep, unsettling fear in the pit of her stomach about what exactly they might find.