Curses, Boiled Again!

by Shari Randall

  Megan nibbled the sandwich while Hilda kept an arm on her back, making encouraging noises that blended into the constant beeping of machines in the rooms, the soft nearby swish of a respirator. The whisper of the stiff crinoline under my skirt as I shifted on the couch.

  I said the first thing that popped into my head.

  “How’s Lucia?”

  “She was…” Megan’s voice was so soft I had to lean close to hear her. “Really great. When Ernie didn’t come home last night…” She sniffed and Hilda handed her another tissue. “I waited and waited. Called and called his cell phone. He didn’t answer. Lucia waited with me. She called the police. They went out and looked for him, his car. Nothing until this morning.”

  Verity’s brow wrinkled. “I didn’t think the police looked for adults unless they’re missing for twenty-four hours?”

  Megan shook her head. “That’s not the policy here. I don’t know about other places. But they didn’t find him. Until today.”

  She turned to face me. “Why was Ernie at the Lazy Mermaid?”

  “I was going to ask you, Megan. I’ve no idea why he’d be there, especially at night when we’re closed.” I took a deep breath. “Do you think he was meeting someone?”

  Megan leaned away from me. Her hand holding the tea shook and she set the cup on the table. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Hilda and I exchanged looks. Verity shifted on her vinyl chair. Megan was lying. But why? Could she be protecting Chick? Or was she protecting Ernie?

  Or was she lying because of what happened at Edwards Inlet? I took a deep breath. “Megan, have you ever heard of”—I recalled the envelope in Chick’s car—“Aldersgate Family Services in Chatham?”

  Megan’s hand flew to her throat. “What did you say?” she whispered.

  A loud beeping alarm sounded. Nurses rushed into one of the glass cubicles. Ernie’s.

  “Ernie!” Megan jumped up, her knee knocking the teacup over. She looked down at me. “Allie, come see me later.”

  She ran to Ernie’s room.

  Hilda fished more tissue from her purse and mopped up the tea. “Allie, what was that about?”

  Chapter 34

  “What’s Aldersgate?” Hilda said as we got into her car.

  “I’m not sure, but it has something to do with Megan and Chick.” That was as far as I was going. Hilda didn’t need to know I’d searched Chick’s car.

  Thankfully, Hilda’s phone rang just as mine buzzed with a text from Lorel.

  COME TO THE PLEX. NOW.

  “Great, Lorel wants me to turn myself in.”

  Hilda hung up. “There’s a rally to release Aunt Gully.”

  Verity grabbed my arm. “Don’t go, Allie. How’re we going to prove Aunt Gully’s innocent if you’re arrested?”

  My mind churned. I was dying to see Aunt Gully, but I wasn’t ready to turn myself in to the police.

  Hilda’s deep brown eyes were sending me beams of command. “Of course you’re going to talk to the police.”

  “Of course.” I felt bad lying to Hilda. “Hilda, will you drop me and Verity at the Tank so I can change?”

  “Everything will be fine.” Hilda patted my knee. “You have nothing to hide.”

  No police cars guarded the Tank, thank goodness. I waved good-bye to Hilda then shimmied back into my jeans and T-shirt.

  “What’s the plan?” Verity said. “I’d go with you to the rally but I’ve got to get back to the shop.”

  “Drop me behind the park,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Please don’t get arrested. We’re going to Juliet’s tomorrow.”

  “That’s the plan. Come to Aunt Gully’s for dinner tonight.”

  “If you’re not in the slammer,” Verity muttered.

  “I’ll talk to Lorel and see what the situation is with Aunt Gully.” Suddenly I had the strangest feeling. “It’s weird, Verity. I feel like I want to talk to the police. That I could help them.” That somehow I knew something, had heard something that was important, that would prove Aunt Gully’s innocence.

  Verity dropped me off. Skirting the Plex, I cut through backyards until I could see its front door. A small crowd of people gathered on the sidewalk and steps. I stood at the back of a group across the street, peering through the branches of some bushy rhododendron.

  More than a few in the crowd were curious tourists, making a side trip to Mystic Bay Village to get some great seafood while enjoying prime water views. They were disappointed by the closure of both the Lazy Mermaid and Kahuna’s but would go home with good stories about the murder, the poisonings, the injured man in the lobster shed, the sinking of the Sadie Mae, the submerged sports car, the daring young man who dove in to check the car for life, and the little old lady lobster shack owner who was arrested and now had a mob of gentle townspeople and tourists with nothing better to do demanding her release.

  Crowds on the sidewalks flowed down to Pearl Street. A line of hungry visitors stood outside the door of the Tick Tock. Ernie Moss’s bitter comment resonated: My loss is your gain.

  Bit Markey stood at the top of the steps with—I couldn’t believe it—Aggie. And Hector. Hilda hurried up the street.

  “Hey hey ho ho. Let Aunt Gully go!” Bit chanted. Aggie pumped a clenched fist.

  Bit held up a poster. FREE AUNT GULLY was lettered in all caps in black marker. His lettering was precise and even, a neat job, except for a splotch of red paint on one corner of the poster.

  My heart beat faster. Where had I seen that poster before? Where had I seen paint that shade of red?

  Could Bit Markey be a lobster libber? I snorted. A man in Bermuda shorts and a UCONN T-shirt turned and grinned. I faded back into the rhododendron. But Bit’s red paint was the same shade, and the sign was the same size, as the signs posted at the Lazy Mermaid and Kahuna’s.

  * * *

  Chief Brooks stepped from the front door of the Plex to a smattering of boos. He raised his hands.

  “Now, folks. Everything’s okay. We’re just talking. Mrs. Fontana’s a good citizen who wants to help the police in their investigation and she’s going home.”

  The crowd cheered.

  Aunt Gully and Lorel emerged from the Plex. Aunt Gully shook Chief Brooks’s hand, then hugged Bit Markey. Lorel smiled, but it was a shoot-me-now smile. This wasn’t the kind of attention she wanted for the Lazy Mermaid.

  I surged forward with the crowd. I wanted to get a closer look at Bit’s sign.

  Someone grabbed my arm.

  I whirled.

  “Miss Larkin, would you mind coming with me?” Detective Rosato said.

  * * *

  “Wait, Bit, wait!” Detective Rosato frog-marched me across the street. “Just a minute, please, Detective Rosato. I’m not trying to run from you, really.”

  Bit Markey walked back toward Pearl Street, sandwiched between two friends. “Bit!”

  Bit turned and jogged toward Detective Rosato and me.

  “Hi, Allie.” He looked back at his friends. One gave him a thumbs-up.

  Good grief. “First of all, that’s a great sign,” I said. “Thanks for making it.”

  Bit smiled. “Nik and Karma say the People have to take action or the Man’ll crush our spirits.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes. How had Nik Markey and Karma—just Karma—produced such a great kid?

  Detective Rosato didn’t move, but waves of impatience rolled off her.

  “Listen. Where’d you get that poster board?” I asked.

  “Dumpster-diving at the Ellicott place,” Bit said. “They’re remodeling it. Sometimes there’s great stuff there.”

  The Ellicott place. Right across from Kahuna’s.

  “That’s true,” I said. “Like that great crystal doorknob you gave me.”

  Detective Rosato shouldered in. “We have to go.”

  “Please, wait, please. Bit, could I, could we have the sign?”

  “Sure!” Bit’s skinny chest puffed out. I took the
poster by the edges, hoping I wasn’t smudging any fingerprints.

  “I’m sure Aunt Gully’ll want to keep it.” Right after I get the cops to check it for fingerprints.

  Detective Rosato put her hands on her hips and looked away. The gesture exaggerated the bulge under her jacket.

  “Thanks, Bit.”

  Bit ran back to his friends. They slapped his back.

  “Very touching,” Detective Rosato said. “Do you have time for an interview or do you have more social calls to make?”

  So Detective Rosato wasn’t a complete robot.

  “No, but I think you’re going to want to do some Dumpster-diving.”

  Chapter 35

  Detective Rosato declined my invitation to go Dumpster-diving at the Ellicott house. She hustled me through the front doors of the Plex, past the incredulous face of my friend Bronwyn, and into an interview room.

  “Interview of Allegra Larkin. Six P.M.”

  “Honestly, how can you even think my aunt would poison all those innocent people? For heaven’s sake, she’s on the church Ladies’ Guild! She volunteers at the food bank! She took care of me and my sister after my mother died.” Sweat broke out across my back and chest. I had to make the detective understand what a wonderful woman my aunt was. How innocent she was.

  “My aunt had no reason to hurt any of those people!”

  “Think about this.” Detective Rosato turned to me, her eyes black and glittering like Mystic Bay on a moonless night. “There are two lobster shacks in Mystic Bay. One’s long established. One’s new.

  “One’s well-known, practically all over the world. What would make someone choose your aunt’s new restaurant over the world-famous, highly regarded, longtime favorite of so many? Or more to the point, what would make a diner not want to go to Kahuna’s? Maybe if they heard something so bad about the food, they wouldn’t set foot there.”

  Ernie’s sweaty face loomed in my mind. My loss is your gain.

  The thought dragged my heart down like an anchor. Although I knew Aunt Gully would never hurt another soul, Detective Rosato had a plausible motive for her to poison Kahuna’s lobster rolls.

  “We’ve been interviewing attendees at the food festival. You were heard to say”—she read from her little notebook—“‘I’d do anything to help Aunt Gully win this competition.’ Is that true?”

  “That I said it or that I meant it? Both.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted it. And I remembered the person I’d said them to—Finella Farraday.

  My jaw dropped. “You can’t think I meant poisoning or murdering someone.”

  Detective Rosato said nothing.

  “Finella’s been out to get my aunt ever since she bought property Finella wanted!” No wonder Finella was so helpful to the police. A hot blush crept up my chest to my face. Going redhead wouldn’t help Aunt Gully. I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to center myself. I contracted my muscles and then relaxed them.

  Detective Rosato’s face didn’t move.

  I felt steadier. “It’s a figure of speech, as you’re probably aware.” I leaned back and folded my arms. Two can play this game.

  Detective Rosato set a laptop computer on the table and turned the screen so we both could watch.

  With a shock I saw myself hurtle through the crowd at the food festival and vault onto the stage. I watched myself hurry to Contessa and kneel next to her. My back was to the camera for several moments as I tended to her. I watched myself look up and scoot aside as Hayden Yardley joined me. Once more, I could feel the relief as he knelt next to me. An EMT joined us.

  Detective Rosato leaned forward. Small gold studs gleamed in her ears. She pressed the keyboard, freezing me in profile.

  I blinked, pulling myself back. My hand was at my throat.

  “You were alone with Contessa Wells for a short time.”

  “Yes, I was afraid she’d choke. I went up to roll her to her side.”

  Detective Rosato watched me. My mind raced. What was she waiting for? So I was alone with Contessa Wells. Alone with Contessa Wells. Realization broke upon me.

  “Do you think I killed her? What would I have done? Strangled the poor poisoned woman?”

  Detective Rosato closed the laptop.

  “Where were you last night, from ten until midnight?”

  My gut twisted. If I told the truth I’d have to admit that I’d trespassed at Orion Cove. That I’d witnessed that awful scene between Chick and Megan. That—

  “Do you think I attacked Ernie Moss?” I exclaimed. A worse thought crossed my mind. “Do you think Aunt Gully attacked Ernie Moss?”

  “Your aunt was home alone last night. She said you left for a while.”

  “Me attacking Ernie Moss? Ridiculous!”

  “Is it?” Detective Rosato’s lips twitched into something that almost looked like a smile. “You’re athletic. Look at the way you jumped up onto the stage. You’re a dancer, in excellent shape.”

  I raised my leg, showing her my walking boot.

  “That didn’t slow you down much.” She inclined her head to the laptop.

  Breathe, Allie. Don’t let her upset you. Think before you talk.

  “Come on, Ernie Moss has a hundred pounds on me.” I realized I had to tell her the truth because I was sure Chick had attacked Ernie. I was the only one who could explain why.

  “I went for a swim.” I tapped my finger on my chin, silently adding “at Orion Cove.” “I stopped at Edwards Inlet. It’s the public beach.”

  “Don’t public beaches close at sundown?”

  I swallowed. “Yes.”

  She didn’t say anything. Neither did I but I was thinking furiously. I didn’t want to tell any details about Megan. That seemed personal. But Ernie and Chick …

  “I think I saw Chick Costa cut off Ernie Moss’s car. Leaving Edwards Inlet.”

  Detective Rosato’s chin rose a fraction. She was interested.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not one hundred percent,” I said. “I mean about Ernie’s car. But I’m sure I saw Chick’s. I mean, that red car is hard to miss.”

  “Are you sure about Chick Costa’s car because you were meeting him?”

  “Ugh! Are you kidding me? No. Absolutely not.”

  Detective Rosato’s lips curled in something close to a smile.

  She nodded toward the counter where Bit’s poster lay. “What’s so interesting about that poster?”

  Chapter 36

  After I told Detective Rosato about the signs and letters, she opened the door. “You may go.”

  “Thanks.” Just go, Allie, before she changes her mind.

  I hurried outside, texting Verity to come and get me. I filled my lungs with cool, salty air. The sky was tinged with pink—red sky at night, sailor’s delight—and a soft breeze breathed off the river. Simply not being in the stuffy interrogation room with Detective Rosato made me happy to be alive.

  Minutes later, Verity pulled up and I got in the Tank.

  “So they let you go?”

  “Crazy, huh? Guess who I owe my police interview to? Finella Farraday.”

  “What!”

  I filled Verity in. “There’s something about her. That lobster pick. I think she’s been out to get Aunt Gully all along. I wonder if she sent the letters?”

  Verity shrugged. “Let’s not talk about her. She ruins my appetite. Your aunt called me. She’s making lazy man’s lobster.”

  Although my mouth watered, I nodded toward Pearl Street. “One stop before we go home.”

  * * *

  The Tank’s engine growled as it crested Brook Street. Uncle Rocco’s nephew Frank had a summer home on the hill across from Kahuna’s. We parked and looked down at the sagging police tape crossing Kahuna’s front door. My eyes went to the Ellicott place across the street, to the Dumpster on the side of the old house.

  “Aren’t you hungry? I’m starving,” Verity said as I fished the key from under the mat at the back door.
/>   “Cousin Frank has security cameras.” We went inside.

  “Everybody in the world has security cameras. My landlord put them in, though I think he did it just to spy on me.”

  I flopped into the large leather recliner in front of the big-screen TV.

  “Now you’re watching TV?” Verity asked.

  Cousin Frank had his security system plugged into his cable. “If I can figure this out, maybe we can see who put the sign at Kahuna’s. And most importantly, put the red paint on it.” Something about the red paint disturbed me more than anything.

  “Did you tell the police about Cousin Frank’s camera?” Verity perched on an arm of the chair.

  “I’m going to remember tomorrow. I want to look first.” I clicked on the television. “See, I wonder. Why the red paint on Kahuna’s poster and not on the Mermaid’s? There’s got to be a reason why the lobster libbers—or whoever—used red paint on Kahuna’s sign and not on the Lazy Mermaid’s.”

  “Maybe the lobster libbers forgot. People forget,” Verity said.

  “I’ll grant you that. But, I don’t think so.” SEC SYS flashed onscreen. That must mean security system. I pressed play.

  “And you think the letters and the signs are connected? What about the tires?” Verity said. “You said you thought Finella was responsible.”

  “Maybe?” The letters were so secretive. So restrained. The signs were so public. So untidy. “I’m not sure.” Maybe Aunt Gully and Lorel were right. Would Finella really do something like that?

  I rewound to Friday, the night before the food festival. Cousin Frank had several security cameras. One gave a view from his second-story deck down to the river. Kahuna’s parking lot and the Ellicott place were visible in the background.

  “That was Friday right?” Verity leaned close to the screen. The images were grainy. We watched cars pull in and out of Kahuna’s, jockeying for position on the narrow street. After Kahuna’s got really busy, cars parked in no-parking areas and on sidewalks.

  I fast-forwarded, watching the clock.

  Two people walked to a tiny black sports car. “Is that Megan and Ernie?” Verity pointed.

  “Pretty sure. That’s how Ernie walks.” I puffed out my chest and swung my shoulders and arms.