by Lee Hollis
“And what time was that?” Hayley asked.
“About three thirty, four at the latest. I guess it was the same time I got here. You can ask Sue, she was here, she knew what time I came in,” he said, pounding his empty glass on the bar, demanding yet another round.
Sue gave him an irked look and then decided to ignore him while she talked to another customer.
“Thanks, Rufus,” Hayley said, before taking Mona by the arm and pushing her out the door and into the street. “That makes zero sense. According to everybody else we’ve talked to, Liddy’s Mercedes has been parked in that spot since yesterday, which means he’s either confused . . .”
“Or deliberately lying to us,” Mona said ominously.
“Why would the old town drunk lie to us? He obviously wasn’t the one who snatched Liddy because he was right here at the Starfish Lounge in plain view of everyone until his granddaughter Ellie probably came to pick him up at closing.”
“Maybe the old stewed prune has something to hide!” Mona said.
Hayley stood in front of the Starfish Lounge, mystified. Something downright sinister was going on in this otherwise picture-perfect Maine coastal town.
The fear inside her was growing rapidly. But she was determined to get to the bottom of this because Liddy’s life could very well depend on it.
Chapter 25
Hayley knew they had to wait at least twenty-four hours since they last saw Liddy before they could legally file a missing persons report at the police station. Liddy had dropped them off in town at four PM the previous day before heading off to her appointment with Oliver Hammersmith. It was now ten minutes to four. So Hayley and Mona raced over to the local police station and burst through the front door, stopping at the small reception desk manned by a fresh-faced young recruit with big, kind eyes and an eager smile. He was bursting out of his nicely pressed cream-colored uniform, probably because he kept stuffing handfuls of jelly beans into his mouth from the glass bowl on top of the desk that was clearly intended for visitors. The judge, the police, they all seemed to love jelly beans.
“How may I help you, ladies?” he asked, smiling so hard there were veins popping out of his neck.
“We’re here to report a missing person,” Hayley said, ravenously eyeing the jelly beans since they hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Oh, no! That’s terrible!” he gasped, but more like a friendly neighbor rather than a helpful police officer on duty to protect and serve.
Hayley and Mona stood there waiting for him to take action, but he didn’t make a move. He just stared at them, smiling, before realizing that he probably shouldn’t be grinning from ear to ear after such a serious claim. So he very awkwardly contorted the smile into a concerned pout.
“Who’s missing?”
“Our friend Liddy Crawford, we haven’t seen or heard from her since yesterday and we are very worried,” Hayley said.
“Oh, my, I am so sorry,” the pudgy young man said as he noticed Hayley glancing at the jelly beans.
He pushed the bowl closer to her. “Jelly bean?”
“Thank you,” Hayley said, snatching a handful and gratefully popping them into her mouth.
There was a lingering silence as the chubby-cheeked police officer full of compassion gazed at them with the same sad pout.
Mona turned to see Hayley chewing a mouthful of jelly beans so she decided to take charge and stepped forward, slamming her hands down on the reception desk. “So is there some kind of report we can fill out so you guys can start looking for her, or do you want to, you know, put out an APB?”
“What’s that?” he asked with a curious look on his face.
“What’s what?” Mona asked, confused.
“That last part you said. AB—what?”
“APB! An All Points Bulletin! It alerts all the squad cars in the area about our missing friend with a complete description so they can keep an eye out for her!” Mona yelled.
“There’s no need to do all that. We just have one squad car! I can just radio Sheriff Wilkes and tell her myself,” he said, smiling.
Hayley swallowed the jelly beans and leaned forward. “Please, Officer . . .”
“Richter, Billy Richter,” he said, offering his hand.
Mona was about to slap it away, but Hayley beat her to him and politely shook his hand.
“Officer Richter, we’re wasting valuable time . . .”
“Call me Billy,” he said brightly.
“Billy! Right. Okay, Billy, can we at least get started with some paperwork, because there’s always paperwork to fill out!”
“Sure, why don’t you sit over there and I’ll get the process started,” he said.
“Thank you,” Hayley said, grabbing Mona, who stared glumly at the obnoxiously chipper young man, by the shirtsleeve and pulling her over to a couple of uncomfortable folding chairs.
They sat down and waited for him to get up from his desk, but he just sat there, smiling at them.
Hayley sighed. “Are you going to bring us the paperwork or do we have to go somewhere to get it?”
“I’m not authorized to hand out any forms. I’m just a part-time receptionist for Sheriff Wilkes. I’m not really an officer, but I’m studying to be. I guess I should have mentioned that when you called me Officer Richter, but I just loved the sound of it! Officer Richter! I’m hoping maybe I will be someday, but I flunked the first test and I have to wait three months before I can take it again!”
Hayley reached out and grabbed Mona’s shirtsleeve again because she instinctively knew Mona was about to leap out of the chair and beat the crap out of the kid, but Hayley held firm and kept Mona fastened in her seat.
Mercifully, Hayley spotted the squad car pull up out front and Sheriff Daphne get out and stroll into the station. She instantly spotted Hayley and Mona and grimaced.
“What are you two doing here?”
Hayley jumped up and raced over to her. “Our friend Liddy has vanished into thin air and we’re afraid something bad has happened to her so we came here to file a missing person report!”
“When did you last see her?”
“Yesterday,” Hayley said. “She had a meeting and dropped us off in town around four and we never heard from her after that! She was supposed to meet us for dinner—”
“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours,” Sheriff Daphne said, glimpsing at the clock hanging on the wall.
“Yes, we waited until four o’clock. You can see right there, it’s four o’clock,” Hayley said, desperation rising in her voice. “That’s twenty-four hours!”
“It’s three fifty-seven,” Sheriff Daphne said flatly.
Mona threw her head back and howled, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Sheriff Daphne turned to Billy behind the desk. “Send them into my office when it’s four o’clock.”
She stared at Hayley, waiting for her to dare challenge her, and then ambled off down the hall to her office.
Mona lunged forward after her, but Hayley held her back, and whispered urgently into her ear, “We need her.”
They sat back down and stared at the clock until it was exactly four, and then they both sprang from their seats and bounded over to Billy behind the desk.
He looked up at them again with his big, eager smile.
“It’s four o’clock, we’d like to see Sheriff Wilkes,” Hayley said calmly.
Billy glanced at the clock. “That one’s a little fast. My computer still says three fifty-nine.”
Hayley squeezed Mona’s hand tightly, silently warning her not to overreact.
To her surprise, Mona remained steady and calm, but she did notice her biting her lip to keep herself from saying something she would regret.
After about fifteen seconds, Billy’s adorably chubby face lit up. His computer clock obviously had finally flashed four o’clock.
He stood up and came around his desk.
“This way, ladies,” he said. “Can I get you some coffee?”
> “I think we’re both wired enough, thank you,” Hayley said, shaking her head.
He ushered them into Sheriff Wilkes’s office. She was just sitting there, not doing anything, making a point of showing them that she had no intention of helping them until she was legally required.
“Sit down,” she said, gently rubbing her neck with her hand and wincing.
“Pain in the neck?” Hayley asked.
“Yeah,” she said, staring at them. “A couple of big ones.”
There were so many things Hayley wanted to say to her, but she couldn’t risk ticking her off. Liddy was missing and the situation was dire.
“I have a theory,” Sheriff Daphne said, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest.
“What’s that?” Mona asked.
“I don’t think your friend just up and disappeared. I don’t think this is foul play at all. What I think is your friend got nervous about your upcoming trial, maybe she wasn’t the instigator, maybe she was dragged along by her two friends, and she panicked because the two of you were refusing to take my very generous offer, so she just blew town to leave you two to deal with the whole big mess. Yup, that’s what I think.”
“Liddy wouldn’t do that,” Hayley said, anger rising in her voice.
“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you thought,” Sheriff Daphne said. “Maybe she’s the only reasonable, clearheaded one of the three of you.”
“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Hayley said.
“Yeah, she’s never been reasonable or clearheaded!” Mona wailed.
Sheriff Daphne watched them, saying nothing, doing her best to intimidate them and make them feel uncomfortable.
Hayley couldn’t take it anymore. “My brother-in-law is the police chief of Bar Harbor so I know a few things about the law, and I know that once someone has been missing for twenty-four hours, it is your responsibility as an officer of the law to accept a missing person report, so we are not leaving here until you allow us to file one.”
“Fine,” Sheriff Daphne said through clenched teeth. She sat forward in her chair and unfolded her arms. She clicked a few keys on her keyboard and then turned to them, stone-faced. “What’s her name again?”
“Liddy Crawford,” Hayley said, relieved.
“How do you spell it?”
“Which one? Liddy or Crawford?”
Sheriff Daphne looked at her with disdain, and said, “Both.”
She was not going to make this easy by a long shot.
Suddenly the phone on the desk rang.
“Excuse me,” Sheriff Daphne said dismissively before picking it up. “Yes, Billy, what is it?”
She listened for a few moments and then hung up and jumped to her feet. “I’m sorry, ladies, something more pressing has come up and I need to go.”
“What’s more pressing than a missing person?”
“Another body has been found,” she said, charging out from behind her desk.
“A body? Who?” Hayley cried.
Sheriff Daphne ignored the question and bolted out of the office. Hayley and Mona chased after her back into the reception area where they found Billy, pale and shaken.
Sheriff Daphne stopped briefly to address Billy. “Call the coroner’s office and have them meet me there.”
Billy nodded as he reached for the phone, his hands quivering as he punched in some numbers.
Hayley raced to catch up to Sheriff Daphne, desperate. “Please, Sheriff Wilkes, we have to know, is it our friend?”
But Sheriff Daphne just shook her off and said as she flew out the door, “Hang tight, I’ll be back in a few hours.”
And she was gone.
Mona was already hovering over Billy.
“Come on, kid, what do you know? Whose body did they find? At least let us know if it was a man or a woman!”
Billy looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, and then quietly whispered, “It’s a man. He’s a local.”
Hayley sighed, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks.
“Who?” Mona insisted.
Billy was clearly scared of his boss, but in the presence of Mona, a very aggressive and frightening force, he was utterly out of his mind petrified. “The sheriff will kill me if she finds out I told you anything.”
“We won’t tell her, I promise,” Mona said, surprisingly calm, which made Billy even more nervous. “Come on, Billy, you know you want to tell us.”
“Old man Rufus, she found him dead as a doornail.”
“She? Who is she?”
“Sue, the owner of the Starfish Lounge.”
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
My ex-husband, Danny, and I didn’t have a whole lot of money for fancy vacations in our early years as a married couple, or as I refer to them, “BK”—“Before Kids.” But we made it a point to scrape just enough cash together to at least get away for a nice long weekend once every summer! Both of us adored Old Orchard Beach, about three hours south of Bar Harbor near Portland. Every time we went there, we would treat ourselves to a nice hotel, some special meals out, lots of soothing cocktails, and if we were lucky with the weather, a few sunny days lounging at the beach.
We always spent the winter and spring months squirreling away our spare change and extra cash in an old cookie tin that belonged to my grandmother, which I kept in a high cupboard over the top of the stove.
Well, the day had finally come to make our hotel reservation, and so I needed to deposit our vacation savings at the bank. I carried up a step stool from the basement, climbed up on it, and retrieved the cookie tin. It seemed lighter than the last time I had dropped a few coins in it, but I didn’t think much of it until I lifted the lid and peered inside. Instead of jangling coins and lots of green paper money, all I found were about a dozen slips of white paper with a note scribbled on each one. I snatched one out of the tin and unfolded it, and sure enough, scrawled in Danny’s familiar handwriting were the words, “I owe you $ Love, Danny.”
My blood started to boil. I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. I still had a few hours before Danny would come marching through the back door, asking for his dinner. I needed to calm myself. And my foolproof way of doing that was to feed myself. So I went to the fridge and grabbed last night’s leftover Lobster Seafood Casserole with its wonderful chunks of lobster, fresh-picked crabmeat, and small peeled Maine shrimp and popped the casserole dish right into the microwave. Within five minutes, I was gobbling it up, and I could feel my blood pressure slowly going down.
After scraping the last bits out of the casserole dish with a spoon, I was feeling much better until my eyes fell on that cookie tin sitting on the counter and I got mad all over again. So I went to my reliable Plan B. A nice cocktail. I pulled out my homemade blueberry simple syrup to make my favorite summertime refresher, a Blueberry Gin Fizz Cocktail. Well, that did the trick. After two of those, I was relaxed and feeling pretty happy.
That is, until Danny breezed through the door. He took one quick look at the empty pitcher of Blueberry Gin Fizzes, the empty, scraped-clean seafood casserole dish and the opened cookie tin sitting on the kitchen counter, and he knew he was in big trouble.
Danny’s mouth opened and a litany of excuses began pouring out, but I stopped him by raising my hand in the air and staring at him coldly. He got the message. He stopped talking.
I didn’t scream, or yell, or cry, I simply informed him in a low, controlled voice that I didn’t care how he did it, or what he needed to do to replace the missing money, but he was going to do it because I desperately needed a vacation, and if he didn’t want me filing for divorce before Labor Day, he would find a way to make it happen. Danny nodded vigorously, promising me we would leave on schedule in one month’s time.
Well, exactly one month later, to my surprise and delight, we were in Danny’s car driving to Old Orchard Beach! I didn’t know how he did it, and I didn’t ask because frankly I didn’t care. All I cared about wa
s we were on our way.
Three hours later my hopes and dreams of a magical weekend faded fast when we pulled up to a large, dilapidated, old dark and dingy home with its paint peeling, some of the shutters on the windows hanging sideways and some completely gone, an overgrown front yard, and one crooked old sign above the front door that said VACANSY. That’s not a typo. The proprietors didn’t know how to spell.
All of a sudden I had visions of those creepy old homes in Stephen King’s novels. Danny quickly explained that he hadn’t been able to raise enough money for our fancy beach vacation, but he knew I desperately wanted to get off the island for a weekend, so he booked the only place he could find online that he could afford. He also proudly told me that even at the low price he paid, all our meals were included. So much for my dining out at quaint restaurants with ocean views fantasy. We were roughly twenty miles from the ocean.
I opened my mouth to tell him how disappointed I was, but Danny quickly jumped out of the car and hurried up the steps and into the house to check in. I reluctantly began hauling our luggage out of the trunk. Suddenly I had a feeling I was being watched so I stopped and looked around, but didn’t see anything. I grabbed Danny’s duffel bag, pulled it out, and dropped it on the ground next to me, and then I heard a loud rustling sound coming from the bushes on the side of the house. I paused to listen, and heard a low, steady growling. And then I locked eyes with the biggest and dirtiest dog I had ever seen in my life, and he happened to be foaming at the mouth. After a few tense moments of a standoff, he sprang toward me.
All I could think as I stared at this mangy beast running at me was Cujo, that scary Stephen King novel with the devil dog from hell who tore people apart with his sharp teeth! I screamed at the top of my lungs, hauled butt up the rickety old steps, and burst right through the screen door of the old house, screaming bloody murder, with the dog nipping at my heels.
As I crashed into the foyer, Danny, who was talking to a short, stout old woman, whipped around in surprise and stared at me as I stammered hysterically about being chased by a wild rabid dog.
