Town in a Blueberrry Jam (24 page)

THIRTY-TWO

“What are you talking about?” Maggie looked at Candy as if her friend had gone daft.

“That’s it! Don’t you see!” She jerked her finger wildly.
“Sapphire Vine is his real mother
.
”

“Whose real mother?”

“Cameron’s! He’s her son. . . .
Susan Jane Vincent’s
son . . . aren’t you?”

She had turned back to face the teenager, her finger still held out toward him, though after a moment she forced herself to lower it.

In the stunned silence that followed, all eyes turned toward Cameron, who backed farther into the corner, seeking shadow, wary of the attention. Only his eyes shown out, bright and glistening in the muted light, mirroring his uneasiness.

Maggie tilted her head as she looked at him, her face a cloud of confusion that slowly, inexorably gave way to realization. Her mouth fell open, and for a rare moment she was totally, utterly speechless.

Even Sebastian appeared to be stunned. He sat stone still in the chair to which he was tied, studying the teenage boy with disbelieving eyes. Only Amanda seemed unfazed by the revelation, though she stood anxiously with her arms folded across her chest as she watched the others watch her boyfriend.

For a moment all were still. The only sounds were the crashing of the waves and the howls of the building storm outside the walls. Then Maggie’s voice, trembling and uncertain, broke into the silence. “It can’t be. It’s not possible.”

“It is, Mom. It’s true.” Amanda clutched her mother’s arm. “I didn’t believe it at first either, but Cameron told me all about it. Sapphire was his real mother.”

“But how can that be?” Maggie looked as if she were about to collapse as her eyes found Cameron’s. “You’re so handsome and so smart and so nice! And—”

She clamped a hand over her mouth when she saw the look on Cameron’s face. She instantly regretted her words. “Oh, Cameron, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that—”

“I know what you meant, and you’re right.” He wavered a moment, as if he were about to tip over, then lowered the gun and let out a long breath. “I know what you’re thinking. I understand how you feel. I was shocked myself when I found out. But it’s the truth. I’ve seen the proof.”

“But . . . how long have you known?”

He shrugged, as Maggie had seen him do so many times before, and for a moment he was the old Cameron she had known since he was a child.

“A few months now. She told me right after my eighteenth birthday.”

As Maggie questioned Cameron, Candy was barely listening, for her mind was racing back through all that had happened over the past few days. She finally spoke up. “It all makes sense, in some strange way,” she said thoughtfully. “That’s why you were so upset at Gumm’s that day, isn’t it? That was the first time you heard of Sapphire’s death. Of course you were shocked.” She paused, still thinking. “And that’s why you were staying up in Sapphire’s attic.”

Cameron cleared his throat, still shifting uneasily. “Yeah, I, um, stayed up there a few times. She liked to have me around. She said it made her happy, after being separated from me for so long. But I wasn’t crazy about it. I did it mostly for her.”

“And that young man we saw in the photo on Sapphire’s piano, and in her photo album—that was your father, right?”

“His name was David—David Squires,” Amanda explained. “He and Cameron’s mother were students together at USM.”

“USM!” Candy slapped her forehead with the flat of her hand. “I should have seen the connection!”

“What connection?” Maggie asked.

“Don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” Maggie looked more confused than ever.

“The night of the pageant. When Bertha Grayfire introduced the judges, she said that one of them had taught at USM—the University of Southern Maine.”

“But that was . . .” Maggie’s voice trailed off as she thought it through. After a moment her gaze was drawn to the figure tied to a chair at the center of the room. “You don’t mean . . .?”

Cameron nodded, his face pale. “That’s why I’m here . . . with this.” He nodded down toward the rifle. “And that’s why he’s tied up there. He killed her.”

Candy shook her head. Much of what was going on was still so unclear. “But why? Why would he have killed her?”

Cameron stared hard at Sebastian J. Quinn, who was slowly shaking his head, his eyes hard again, unemotional. “They were all there together, on the campus nineteen years ago,” Cameron said, the tension deep in his voice. “My father was getting his master’s degree in English lit with a specialty in poetry. Apparently he was a pretty good poet. And that man”—he nodded with his chin toward Sebastian J. Quinn—“was his faculty advisor.”

Candy let out a breath of frustration. “And to think I never even opened his file! I was so distracted by what I had found out about Herr Georg that I barely checked up on anyone else.”

“It’s all there.” Cameron indicated the file that lay open on the table. “I went through it over and over again this afternoon. I didn’t even know it existed until you found it in that filing cabinet last night. I stayed up in that attic a few times, but I never snooped around. I never knew what she had up there. But when you started digging around and found all those files I had to know what was in them.” Cameron’s gaze shifted back to Sebastian. “When I reached his file, I finally knew what had happened. My mom collected all sorts of information about him.”

“What kind of information?” Maggie asked quietly. “What did he do?”

Cameron’s face was a mask of uncertainty, as if he didn’t know where to begin—or didn’t know how to explain all that he knew. After a moment he nodded toward Sebastian. “Why don’t you ask
him
?”

Candy’s eyes widened just a bit. On an impulse she crossed the room and removed Sebastian’s gag. “What did she have on you?” she asked him point blank.

Sebastian let out a sputter of air as he strained at his bonds, attempting to rise to his feet. But Candy pushed him back down as everyone erupted at once, Cameron, Amanda, and Maggie all shouting warnings. “Just stay right where you are ’til we sort this out,” Candy told him forcefully, crossing her arms and staring down at Sebastian. “I want the truth. Was she blackmailing you?”

The words came out of Sebastian in a growl. “Of course she was blackmailing me—she has been for years. She was a witch—a cruel, totally heartless witch who stalked me for years and tried to squeeze every last dime out of me. I gave her everything I had, but that still wasn’t enough—she wanted more. She could never get enough. No matter what I did, she wouldn’t stop. She was crazy. And I’m glad—” He caught himself then, clamping his mouth shut as he cast a wary glance at Cameron, who stood motionless in the corner. “I . . . I’m sorry you had to hear that, kid, but it’s true,” Sebastian told him. “You can’t believe anything you saw in that file. Yes, I knew your father—and obviously your mother too. But no matter what you might think, I didn’t kill her. That’s the truth.”

“Yes you did, you murderer!” Cameron shouted as his face contorted in sudden rage. Trembling, he raised the rifle as he came forward toward Sebastian, who stiffened in fear and shrieked, “No, don’t shoot, don’t shoot! I didn’t kill her! I swear!”

Cameron brandished the weapon, but before he could do anything foolish, Candy and Maggie both intervened, hands out. “Cameron, calm down!” Candy shouted, positioning herself between Sebastian and the teen.

“Put that rifle down!” Maggie insisted, her fury sharpening as she marched straight toward Cameron and jerked the weapon from his hands. “We’ll have no more of this, mister!” She turned abruptly and walked to Amanda, handing the rifle over to her. “Take this out to Candy’s car and lock it inside,” she instructed, and when Amanda started to protest, she added sharply, “Now!”

Amanda complied. With the weapon gone and the situation neutralized, Maggie turned to Sebastian. “Now we’re going to call the police, and then we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

She turned and walked to the phone, but before she could pick up the receiver, Sebastian called out. “Wait! Wait!” He struggled against his bonds again, his frustration evident. “I can explain everything . . . just . . . no police.”

Candy wheeled on him. “Why not? Talk fast, Sebastian, or I swear, I’ll get that rifle again and shoot you myself.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Properly chastised, Sebastian settled back in the chair, his fear gone and a strange grin coming to his face. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“You’d better. This is your last chance. Now, why was Sapphire blackmailing you? What did she have on you?”

“I’ll tell you,” Sebastian said, “but you have to understand . . . Susan, um, Sapphire, and I had a long history together . . . we go way back . . . and yes, I hated her . . . and I suppose she hated me too . . . but despite all that, I didn’t kill her. You must believe that.”

“We don’t know what to believe until you tell us what happened,” Maggie said testily, still standing near the phone, “and our patience has run out. Talk.”

Sebastian settled back into his chair, apparently resigned to his fate. He sighed, turned his head first one direction, then the other, as if considering how to proceed. Finally he closed his eyes and leaned back his head, and then, almost imperceptively, he nodded. “All right. I’ll talk.”

THIRTY-THREE

“This whole thing goes back about eighteen years,” Sebastian began, “when we all were at the University of Southern Maine—myself and Sapphire—er, Susan—and David, Susan’s boyfriend . . . his father.” Sebastian nodded toward Cameron. “Susan and David were students in one of my English classes—I suppose that’s where they might have met, for I seem to recall they started the class as strangers, or at least as only casual acquaintances. I didn’t notice Susan much at first, but I certainly noticed David, almost immediately. He was a fairly decent poet—quite creative and passionate, though at times he could become too sentimental for my tastes. His writing was raw and undisciplined. Still, he showed incredible promise. . . .”

“Until you killed him,” Cameron cut in.

“That’s nonsense!” Sebastian replied firmly, his heavy brows falling together. “Utter nonsense. I don’t know where you heard that, but it’s just not true.”

“You killed him for his poetry,” Cameron continued.

“I did no such thing.”

“You killed him and stole his poetry!”

Sebastian gave a sarcastic laugh. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You weren’t there. How could you know anything about what happened back then?”

Cameron pointed toward the file on the desk. “It’s all in there. I’ve read it all. Do you want me to tell you what really happened?”

Sebastian’s face hardened. “Very well. You have the floor, young man. Illuminate us.”

“Okay. Okay, I will.” Cameron looked over for a moment as Amanda reentered the room. Outside, fierce gusts of wind were whipping the sea into a frenzied roar. Cameron glanced out at the darkness beyond the windows, gathering his thoughts, then turned his gaze back to Sebastian. “My mother and father met at USM, just like you said, though not in your class. They knew each other before that. They met at a freshman dance. He was a poor kid from Presque Isle, she was the daughter of a boat-builder from Bath. They were inseparable from the start—and from what I can tell, by the time they started your class, she was already pregnant—with me.”

“Oh my God,” Maggie cut in. “That’s why Sapphire looked so happy in that photo! And so
heavy
. She wasn’t overweight. She was
pregnant
!”

Cameron nodded sadly. “Yeah, she showed that photo to me. It was taken right before my father died.”

“What happened to him?” Maggie asked softly.

“I . . . I don’t know. She never told me—and there’s nothing in the file. . . .”

Maggie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Candy only had to glance at her to know instantly what she was thinking, for the same realization had just come to her. “The obituary . . . the one we found in the book last night in Sapphire’s attic?”

Maggie nodded, unable to speak.

“What obituary?” Cameron asked.

Briefly Candy explained, and Sebastian confirmed the story. “Your father died in a car accident. Drunk driver. I remember it well. A tragic affair.” He shook his head, then looked over at Candy. “You’ve seen the clipping?”

“I have.” She glanced at Maggie. “We both have. Sapphire kept a copy of it stashed away.”

“Then you know I’m telling the truth, right?”

Candy said nothing, but after a moment she gave a faint nod. Sebastian let out a breath of air, while Cameron took this news with his lips pursed tight, his eyes glassy with emotion. Sebastian thought he still saw disbelief in those eyes. “I didn’t kill your father, kid,” he said again for emphasis. “It’s the truth, I tell you.”

Cameron’s faced hardened again. “If you didn’t kill him, then why did you steal his poetry?”

It took a long time for Sebastian to work around to answering that question. His jaws tightened and his brow furrowed as he weighed his options. But something inside him must have made him realize that it was time for the truth—all of it. “There was nothing calculated about it, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he began. “It just . . . happened. After your father died, your mother went into a deep depression. I watched it happen from a distance and even tried to intervene. But nothing could be done. She dropped out of school and I lost touch with her.”

Cameron let out a breath and lowered his head. After a moment, he said, “She wound up in an institution in Portland and stayed there for six months. That’s where I was born, but she gave me up for adoption. That’s how I wound up with the Zimmermans.”

“And what happened to your mother after that?” Candy asked.

“I’m not really sure about everything that happened back then,” Cameron answered quietly, “but some time in the years after she left that place, she changed her name, started a new life, and tried to find out what happened to me. It took her a few years, but she finally traced me here, to Cape Willington and the Zimmermans. That’s why she moved up here five years ago—so she could keep an eye on me, she said. The Zimmermans told me I was adopted but they never told me who my birth parents were. Now I know. She waited until my eighteenth birthday to tell me who she really was.”

Cameron paused, looking back at Sebastian. “She also told me what you did.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asked defiantly.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. She told me all about it—how one day, years ago, she was browsing through a library in Portland and found a book of poetry with your name on it—Sebastian J. Quinn. She remembered you from USM, so she checked it out and read it that night. She was shocked. She knew almost immediately that the poems weren’t written by you, were they? They were all written by my father! You stole his poetry and published it under your own name!”

At this accusation, Sebastian blubbered and shook his head in denial, his face growing red, while Candy and Maggie gasped in shock and Amanda nodded vigorously, as if to give affirmation to Cameron’s words. “It’s true,” she said, glaring at Sebastian. “He’s a thief.”

“I am
not
a thief,” Sebastian said indignantly. “As I told you . . . it was not a calculated move. Somehow his papers got mixed up with mine. When I first came across them, I couldn’t remember writing them, so I set them aside. Later, when I was assembling a book of poetry, I discovered them again and spent some time reworking them. It was only later that I realized what had happened. By then it was too late. But I never regretted what happened. I know they were David’s poems, but without me they would have been lost forever. I gave them a voice and shared them with the world.”

“Under your name,” Amanda pointed out.

“That’s very true, Miss Tremont. But at the time I felt those poems were too good to go unpublished, and as far as I knew there was no one else in the world who cared about them. I tried but I could never locate David’s parents. Apparently after his death they had moved on. Susan—well, Susan was out of the picture by then. So I proceeded in the only way I thought possible. I spent a lot of time perfecting those poems, polishing them, assembling them in a book, promoting them. And yes, there were times I felt guilty about it. But after awhile the guilt faded. History is easily buried. Your father was dead, long forgotten, and your mother was . . . well . . .” His voice trailed off.

“How could you have done such a thing?” Maggie asked.

“It’s despicable,” Candy added. “I bet Sapphire was freaked when she found out. Is that when she started blackmailing you?”

Sebastian sat with lips pursed, obviously uncomfortable, frustrated, and humiliated by his current position. For a moment it seemed as if he had clammed up, but finally he cleared his throat and tried his best to hold on to what small bit of dignity he had left. “No. She did write to me, threaten me, but it was only later, after I started to gain some national recognition as a poet, that she started getting nasty. She smelled money, I suppose. It brought out the worst in her. She threatened to go public, to tell the newspapers what had happened. I had no choice. I offered to pay her to keep her silent. She’s been bleeding me dry ever since.” He paused, thinking. “I suppose that’s how she paid for that house of hers. She could never have paid for that on her salary as a part-time columnist, could she?”

“How long has this been going on?” Candy asked.

Sebastian shrugged. “Ten years? Twelve? I’ve lost count—and lost track of how much I’ve paid her.” His head dropped. “It’s been torment.”

Cameron let out a snort of derision. “Torment? You don’t know the meaning of the word. No matter what you’ve experienced, it’s nothing compared to what my mother’s been through”—he stopped abruptly, and corrected himself—“what she
went
through.” Struck by the sudden realization that his mother was really, truly gone, he shuddered, closed his eyes, and swayed perceptibly. For a moment he appeared overwhelmed, and any anger he had left went out of him then, gone forever.

Everyone in the room felt his grief. Amanda went to him in a rush, her hair flying out behind her, and gave him a hug, a tear falling down her cheek. Candy felt her emotions well up in her as well, and even Maggie wiped at her eyes. “Look at me,” she said with a soft, disbelieving laugh. “I’m crying for Sapphire.”

Candy put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “So you’re human.”

Maggie gave her a teary smile. “Yeah, I guess so. Who’da thunk it, huh?” She paused. “You know, it’s funny. . . .”

Candy looked at her inquisitively. “What?”

“Well . . . this might sound strange, but I think I finally understand Sapphire. She was a woman who lost the love of her life—both loves of her life, first David, then her child—when she was still a young girl. It must have nearly destroyed her. I’m sure it changed her mentally and emotionally. She must have never been the same after that. That’s why she changed her name. After David was killed and her baby was taken away from her, the girl known as Susan Jane Vincent must have died in some way, and the only way she could go on living was to change her name, her whole persona—to become someone else. Sapphire Vine was no Susan Jane Vincent. She was one tough cookie. She wasn’t about to let this world get the better of her. She decided to fight back—and she did until the very end.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “I can certainly vouch for that,” he said, looking visibly moved. “She made sure she got what she wanted, right up until the end. It wasn’t a fluke I showed up here this summer, you know. That was her idea. She called me a few months ago and told me that if I did one last ‘favor’ for her she would leave me alone and wouldn’t contact me again. Naturally I agreed. She arranged for this ‘vacation’ and found this nice cottage for me. And then she made sure I conveniently got a spot as a judge for the pageant. I’m not sure how she pulled that off, but she was a very resourceful woman, as you by now have no doubt guessed. She set the whole thing up magnificently. Of course, it was all part of her plan to win the competition. She pretended she didn’t know me, treated me like a stranger in town. But she knew what she was doing. She had it all planned out.”

“So you threw your votes her way?” Candy asked.

“Of course. Isn’t that obvious?”

Candy nodded. Indeed it was. Herr Georg had told her that even though he voted for Sapphire, he didn’t think the votes of a single judge could decide the contest. But the votes of
two
judges . . .

“Did you see her after the pageant?” Candy asked suddenly.

Again, Sebastian’s lips clamped tight, and Candy was about to threaten him, but finally he relented and nodded. “Once.”

“When?”

“The day before she died.”

“You’re lying,” Cameron shot out.

Sebastian shook his head resignedly. “’Fraid not, kid. Yeah, I saw her—Sunday night, the day after the pageant. She called me after everything was over and insisted I stop by her place. I didn’t know what to expect, but mostly I was just hoping the whole thing was over, once and for all. But it wasn’t. Oh, she was thrilled to win the crown, of course. But when I showed up at her house, she told me she needed
more
money. Can you believe it? She was the Blueberry Queen now, she said. She had newfound status. She needed a whole new wardrobe so she could look good around town. And she wanted another five thousand dollars from me. Five thousand!”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I told her I wasn’t giving her any more money, that we had made an agreement. But she just laughed at me. She called me a fool. She threatened to tell everyone I was a fraud, that my Pulitzer Prize-winning book had been written by her long-dead boyfriend.”