Town In a Lobster Stew (7 page)

Sliding out of her chair, she crossed the room and fell into a cross-legged seating position in front of the filing cabinet’s bottom drawer.

For the longest time she just sat there, staring at it. She knew she was dredging up old mysteries and unwanted problems. She knew she was delving into the twisted mind of a dead woman. She knew she should probably have followed an earlier instinct and just burned the files, committing them to ashes, which was where they truthfully belonged.

But she hadn’t. They were still here, in her possession. And they were here for a reason.

With a great force of will, she moved her hand to the drawer’s metal handle. Taking a deep breath, she slid the button aside with her thumb and pulled open the drawer.

She hadn’t been in these files for ten months, since she’d inherited them from Sapphire Vine, the newspaper’s previous community columnist. Sapphire had been many other things as well, including a gossip, a blackmailer, the reigning Blueberry Queen, a keeper of dark secrets, and ultimately a murder victim. She’d been brutally struck down in her home with a red-handled hammer. Finding her killer and solving the mystery of her death had been Candy’s first true case—and it had almost gotten her killed.

Last summer, when Ben had placed the files in Candy’s hands, they had helped her track down Sapphire’s murderer. But with the mystery solved and the murderer arrested, Candy had brought the files back here to the office, stuffed them in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, and left them there, secrets and all.

Some of the folders Candy had opened and perused in an effort to find the murderer. She had not looked at the rest, however, and with good reason. Sapphire had been quietly assembling private, personal, and often damaging information about many of Cape Willington’s residents. And the former Blueberry Queen was not averse to using that information for her own gain. That’s what led to her death.

So Candy had left the tainted files alone—and had overcome an instinct to burn them and bid them good riddance. She couldn’t help feeling, back then, that at some point in the future the files might come in handy.

That time had come.

She leaned forward and started working her way back through the files, carefully checking the labels. She didn’t have to flip back too far to find the one she wanted. It was a thick folder labeled
WB
.

Candy pulled it out, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, hesitated just a moment, and opened the cover. Curiously, she started paging through it.

“Just as I thought,” she muttered to herself a short while later.

Sapphire had assembled a hefty dossier on Wanda Boyle. Newspaper clippings abounded, covering most of Wanda’s activities over the past few years. Sapphire had also included a few grainy black-and-white photos—apparently taken surreptitiously—of Wanda consorting with many of the town’s more powerful and wealthier individuals.

That made sense. Wanda did whatever she could to ingratiate herself with the popular folk around town. But after studying the photos, Candy could see nothing inappropriate going on. All the photos had been taken at what looked like public events. No bedroom shots or anyone in a compromising position. It was probably just Sapphire snooping around, looking for dirt that wasn’t there—a modus operandi that had, at times, yielded boffo results for the gossip columnist.

Candy pursed her lips as she dug farther back into the folder, where the documents were crisper and starting to turn brown with age. Sapphire had included a few pages about Wanda’s husband, who was a building contractor and remodeler, and some brief notes about Wanda’s children—their ages, teachers, and classes, mostly.

Candy found the whole thing creepy. Even now, nearly a year later, Sapphire’s level of obsession and attention to detail still horrified yet fascinated her.

She went back and forth through the folder a few more times before finally pulling out the documents she wanted.

One was a year-old newspaper clipping about Wanda’s volunteer efforts at the Cape Willington Historical Society, located in the red-roofed Keeper’s Quarters out at English Point Lighthouse, just a block or so from here. Dating back to 1857, the lighthouse stood on a point of black rock near the mouth of the English River, which formed the northern boundary of the village of Cape Willington.

The other document, in Sapphire’s own flowery handwriting, provided details about Wanda’s parents and siblings, including an older brother named Owen, who just happened to be a cabinetmaker and carpenter.

That had caught Candy’s attention. Wanda’s brother was a carpenter? Could he have been the one who worked on Wilma Mae’s shelving unit and discovered the secret document drawer?

It sounded just a little too convenient, though, didn’t it? Then again, maybe she’d already discovered her first clue to the mystery.

She was in the process of stuffing the folder back into the filing cabinet when Maggie walked in.

Although Maggie was not a slim woman, neither could she be called full figured. She had a few curves and a few extra pounds, yet she carried herself well, with a certain grace and fluidness of motion. She always dressed well, with discreet makeup that accentuated her best facial features—her prominent cheekbones and her dark, flashing eyes. Her chestnut hair was stylishly cut and naturally curly, resulting in a lush and, Candy often thought, attractive look for her.

Maggie was also incredibly vivacious, a good counter to Candy’s more subdued, thoughtful personality.

“Hey stranger,” Maggie said, entering the room like a fresh spring breeze. “I saw the Jeep out front and thought I’d stop in to say hello real quick. I haven’t seen you all week. What have you been—”

She stopped abruptly when she saw her friend sitting on the floor in front of the filing cabinet instead of at her desk. She gave Candy a mystified look. “Honey, what are you doing down there on the floor? Are you okay?”

As casually as she could, Candy rose to her feet and nonchalantly dusted off her jeans. “Oh, sure, sure, I’m fine.”

“Well what were you doing down there?” Maggie repeated.

“Oh, you know.” Candy stuck her hands in her back pockets. “I was just . . . you know, relaxing.”

“Relaxing?” Maggie blinked several times as she looked from Candy to the still-opened drawer. Quickly her mind registered what was going on. She gasped. “You were looking in the bottom filing cabinet, weren’t you! You were going through
her
files!”

None too discreetly, Candy reached out with a sneakered foot and slid the bottom drawer closed. “Who, me? Naw, I was just, um, practicing my yoga moves.”

But Maggie was having none of it. “Don’t give me that. You don’t do yoga—though that’s not a bad idea, you know. Hey, we could do it together—get us a couple of those cute leotard things, or maybe even capri pants. I’d probably wear black, because of my figure and all, but with your hair color you’d probably look good in a . . .” She paused, catching herself. “Hey, wait a minute. Don’t try changing the subject on me, missy.” Her gaze narrowed on her friend. “You were looking through Sapphire’s old files, weren’t you?”

“Um, well, I . . .”

Maggie leveled a finger at her. “Aha! So I was right. And you didn’t even call me!”

“I was going to but, well . . . it was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing.”

“But you said you weren’t going to look at those files ever again unless it was an extreme emergency. Those were your words:
extreme emergency
.”

“Um, well,” Candy said hesitantly, “I guess this is sort of an emergency.”

“An emergency? But . . .” Maggie’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh my God! You’re on a case! You’re investigating another mystery, aren’t you!”

Candy knew she could never keep anything from her friend. She let out a sigh and flopped back down in her desk chair. With a resigned tone, she said, “Well, if you must know, yes.”

Maggie’s eyes suddenly brightened. “Oh, thank goodness. Something exciting is finally happening! I’ve been so stressed lately, what with everything that’s been going on with Ed and Amanda and all the drama at work. I need something totally different to do with my life for a while. I need something to occupy my mind. And a good mystery is just the thing. So, tell me,” Maggie said as she slid into a folding chair along one wall and tucked her hands expectantly into her knees, “what are you investigating this time? Spill the beans. And don’t leave out a single detail.” Maggie settled herself again. “So, what have you got?”

“Well, it’s not that much, really. Just a small case.” Candy held out a hand, with her index finger and thumb slightly apart. “Just an itty-bitty one.”

“Okay, so tell me all about it. No, wait! Better yet, let me guess. This’ll be fun.” Maggie scrunched up her face as she rubbed her chin. “What were you doing today?” She studied Candy with an appraising eye as she pondered her own question. After a moment, her eyebrows rose dramatically. “You interviewed Wilma Mae Wendell, didn’t you? About that recipe of hers!” Another pause as she thought it through. “This is about her lobster stew recipe, right? And the cook-off on Saturday?”

“Darn, you’re good,” Candy admitted.

Maggie shrieked in excitement. “You mean I’m right?”

“Yes, you’re right. But I didn’t think you’d figure it out that fast. Listen, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay? This is just between us for now. But yes, I’m doing something for Wilma Mae.”

Maggie’s voice was suddenly hushed as she leaned forward. “What is it?”

Candy hesitated, but Maggie had been a big help in tracking down Sapphire’s killer last summer. Candy might need her help again. “It’s nothing dangerous or anything like that. She just has a little . . . problem.”

“What kind of problem? Does it have anything to do with the lobster stew recipe?”

“Well, since you asked, yes.”

“Is she giving it to you? Is that it? There are rumors all over town she’s giving it away.”

“No, that’s not it. She’s not giving it away.”

“Then what?”

Candy leaned close to her friend and said in the lowest whisper she could manage, “The recipe has been stolen.”

“Someone stole the lobster stew recipe?” Maggie said loudly before being shushed by Candy. More softly, she repeated, “Someone stole the recipe? Who could have done such a thing?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

“And she wants you to get it back for her?”

“Yes.”

“Ooh, fun. It’s the search for the stolen recipe.” Maggie’s gaze shifted toward the filing cabinet. “That’s why you were looking in Sapphire’s old files, isn’t it? You were looking for clues.”

Candy nodded. “Something like that.”

Maggie’s eyes shifted back to her friend. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Candy said dramatically, “that I’m searching for specific clues, in a specific file. Wilma Mae already has a suspect.”

“Who?”

“Don’t have a cow, but it’s Wanda Boyle.”

At the mention of Wanda’s name, all the excitement and enthusiasm seem to drain right out of Maggie. The expression on her face instantly deflated to one of total disbelief. For a moment she sat in stunned silence. Then she reached out and took Candy’s arm, as if she were comforting a terminally ill friend. “Tell me I heard you wrong. Tell me you’re not serious.”

“I’m serious.”

“Wanda Boyle? Are you crazy? You can’t investigate her.”

Candy understood her friend’s concern. “You think I’m kicking over a hornet’s nest?”

“Honey, it’s
much
worse than that. She
owns
this town. She knows
everyone
. If she thinks you’re investigating her or that you’re plotting against her, she’ll
ruin
you! She’ll turn everyone in this town against you. And she’ll ruin me too, because I’m your friend!”

Candy gave a feeble laugh. “You’re exaggerating.”

But Maggie shook her head adamantly. “No I’m not. You have to stop this investigation right now. Because if you don’t, Wanda Boyle will destroy us both!”

Twenty minutes later, as Candy walked outside and climbed behind the wheel of her Jeep, Maggie’s final words echoed in her mind:

Candy blew out a long breath of air as she started the engine. She didn’t necessarily disagree with Maggie. But she hadn’t expected her friend’s strong reaction to the news of her latest investigation.

A short time earlier, Maggie had made a quick exit from the
Cape Crier
offices, saying she had to get back to work. “Something’s brewing over there,” she told Candy. “I don’t know what yet, but I’m going to find out. Whatever it is, it’s sure got my boss on edge, so I can’t be gone too long.”

But before she headed out the door, she pleaded with Candy to abandon the investigation. “You’re treading on dangerous territory,” she said ominously. “Just tell Wilma Mae you couldn’t help her, and let sleeping hornets lie.” She left with her final words of advice, her dislike and fear of Wanda Boyle evident.