Wanda’s expression changed again, to one of wariness. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’ve been after Charlotte for a while, haven’t you, like a dog nipping at her heels. Why, I don’t know. Maybe you wanted her job too, just like you wanted mine. Or maybe you just like to throw your weight around. It really doesn’t matter much to me. But whatever it was, it drove Charlotte to desperate measures.”
There was silence for a few moments. When Wanda responded, her tone was icy. “If you must know, yes, I thought the woman was incompetent, and I let her and others know it. She was good at PR and in playing Little Miss Director. But the archives were a mess, and she was often rude to her volunteers.”
Candy read between the lines. “Like you?”
“Yes, like me. I offered her lots of suggestions for improvement. But do you think she listened to me? Noooo.” Wanda mimicked Charlotte’s voice, which sounded a bit eerie to Candy. Wanda continued, her voice growing angrier. “I watched her file all my suggestions away in some drawer in her office, and that was that. She had no intention of following through on any of my ideas.”
“So you went over her head.”
“Of course I did. Someone had to know what was going on around that place.”
“You sent a letter to the board, which got Charlotte in hot water.”
“I was just trying to improve the archives.”
“You were trying to get her fired.”
“I was tired of being ignored.”
“Well, I guess she stopped ignoring you, didn’t she? I suppose she tried to reason with you.”
“She tried, yes.”
“And I suppose you told her to go take a hike.”
Wanda nodded, her face still hard. “Something like that.”
“And I suppose she didn’t take that well.”
A pause. “No, she did not.”
“So she started trying to figure out ways to beat you, didn’t she? She went to great lengths to get that recipe so she could win the cook-off—breaking and entering, at the very least. And possibly murder. And she did it all to prevent you from winning.”
Wanda shrugged, unimpressed. “I suppose so.”
“You created an enemy.”
“I have plenty of enemies. What’s another one?”
At that moment, Maggie poked her head into the room. “Did someone say enemies?”
Wanda completely ignored the interruption, but Candy glanced at her friend. “Hi, Maggie.”
“Having a nice chat?” Maggie smiled sweetly.
Candy’s eyes shifted back to Wanda. “I suppose you could say that.”
“Well, I know you kids are having fun in here, and I hate to break up the party, but I just got a call from Amanda and Cameron. They came back a little early, and I’d sure love to head back home to see them. So whenever you’re ready, we’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”
“Is Wilma Mae doing okay?”
“She’s fine. A little tired, but she’s a trooper.”
“Okay,” Candy said. “We just need a couple more minutes in here.”
“Sounds good.” Maggie looked at Candy and mouthed something that looked like Be careful and then wiggled her fingers at them. “So, um, carry on, you two. Try not to break anything.”
When she was gone, Wanda abruptly turned toward the table and began to fold up the blueprints. “This was a bad idea,” she announced. “I shouldn’t have come to you. I’m leaving.”
Candy was mildly amused. “What’s the matter? Did I get too close to the truth?”
“It’s nothing like that. I thought you could help.” She stuffed the document back into its envelope. “Pretend you never saw this.”
“But I have seen it.”
“Then forget it,” Wanda said, her voice rising.
“I can’t.” Candy was surprised to find herself strangely calm. “Let me ask you something, Wanda. You said you found these plans in Charlotte’s office. You went in to look for the ledger, didn’t you? So did you find it?”
Wanda hesitated only briefly before she answered. “No. She must have hidden it well. But I’m sure it’s there somewhere. I ran out of time. I only had a couple of minutes. I found this instead and hightailed it out of there.”
“So you just went into her office and removed evidence without telling anyone?”
Wanda looked at her blankly. “Evidence?”
Candy pointed at the manila envelope in Wanda’s hands. “That is evidence. The police will certainly search her office, if they haven’t done so already. They’ll be looking for clues to her death. And you’ve got an important one right there. You should take it to the police.” Candy paused, as her own words struck her. “We both have clues that will help them solve this mystery. And we can’t sit on them any longer. We both have to go to the police. Today. Right now.”
Wanda’s face grew tight. “Why would we want to do that?”
“So they can find Charlotte’s killer.”
“But that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”
Candy gave her a look. “We?”
The word hung between them. Wanda obviously had let the word slip, but seemed to regret it.
After an awkward moment, Candy cleared her throat. “Look, I’m glad you showed the blueprints to me,” she said, trying to sound a note of reconciliation. “But I’m not a detective, and I don’t work for the police. I’ve already been reminded of that. So you need to take that document over to the station. I’ll go with you, if you want.”
“And tell them what? I stole the blueprints from her office?”
“Tell them anything. Tell them Charlotte left the plans up in the archives and you discovered them up there by accident, or say you saw them sitting behind the front desk and picked them up. Or yes, just tell them the truth—you were snooping around Charlotte’s office after she was killed and found them.”
For an instance, a look of fear crossed Wanda’s eyes. “I can’t tell them that. They’ll throw me in jail.”
“Probably not. Yes, they’ll be pretty mad at you—at both of us. But that doesn’t change the situation.”
“There is no situation. We’re done here, ma’am.”
And with that, Wanda Boyle marched out of the house, with James Patrick Mulroy’s blueprints clutched tightly in her large fist.
THIRTY-THREE
Candy walked onto the porch just in time to see Wanda’s SUV disappearing down the dirt lane in a cloud of dust, headed back toward town.
Maggie wandered out of the kitchen and stood beside her, holding a brownie square she’d rummaged in the kitchen. She nodded at the dust cloud left by Wanda, as casually as a sea captain might acknowledge a whale off the starboard beam. “Thar she goes.” She took a bite of the brownie. “So what was that all about?”
“Oh, just Wanda in one of her moods.”
Maggie turned toward her, eyes wide, head nodding, obviously impressed. “Hey, way to go! Sounds like you’re finally beginning to get a handle on Wanda. Took you long enough.”
Candy crossed her arms thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true. She’s a hard one to figure out.”
“You’re telling me.”
“The problem is,” Candy continued, “you just don’t know where you stand with her. Is she helping or hurting? Is she your friend or your enemy? Sometimes it seems like she’s both at the same time. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could toss a moose.”
Maggie had to hold back a snort. “I’m guessing that’s not very far.”
Candy smiled. “No, I guess it’s not, is it? But then again, I haven’t had much time to practice my moose-tossing skills lately. They’re getting a little rusty.”
“Well, sure, that’ll happen,” Maggie said without skipping a beat. “You know, I saw a moose once when I went hiking. He was really tall, with skinny legs, and he had this long face with a big nose. He kind of reminded me of my aunt Lucy.”
Candy laughed. “You had an aunt Lucy?”
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�Oh, yeah. She was pretty popular back in her day. They used to call her Lucy the Moosey.”
“Was that a compliment or an insult?”
“You know, I’m not really sure.”
Candy looked at her skeptically. “You’re making this up, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m not, cross my heart. Hey, I was wondering—if I found a moose at the humane society and decided to adopt it, do you think Mr. Antlers would be a good name for it?”
“Mr. Antlers? It’s kinda catchy I guess.”
“Yeah, I thought so too. I like Bullwinkle also, but I think that one’s taken.”
Candy laughed again and put her arm around her friend. “I guess it is. Come on, let’s round up Wilma Mae and take you home so you can see your kids. Then I have a date with the police.”
Five minutes later, with Wilma Mae settled in the backseat of the Jeep, Candy locked up the house, and they headed across the narrow peninsula toward Fowler’s Corner. Post-parade traffic had thinned in the last half hour or so, but traffic was still heavy due to the holiday weekend. The day was starting to warm as the sun fell into the west and the winds shifted, while out toward the east Candy saw a bank of low, hazy clouds building over the ocean. “Looks like the fog’s coming in,” she said to no one in particular as they drove through a thickly settled area toward Maggie’s home.
Quite abruptly, Wilma Mae leaned forward and tapped Candy on the shoulder. “By the way, dear,” she said sweetly, “have you found my ledger yet?”
Candy glanced back over her shoulder at the elderly woman. “No, Wilma Mae, I’m sorry, I haven’t. But I’ve been looking for it.”
“I know you have, dear,” Wilma Mae said, settling back into her seat, “and you’ve been doing a wonderful job. I’ve been watching and listening to you. You’ve talked to so many people, and it seems to me you’re getting close. I think it’s right under your nose.”
“It is?”
“Oh yes. I wouldn’t be surprised if you find it any day now.” Wilma Mae paused. “I overheard you talking to that horrid woman at the house. So I take it Charlotte Depew had Mulroy’s blueprints, which showed her how to find the secret document drawer in my house.”
Candy exchanged glances with Maggie, who sat beside her in the passenger seat. “You overheard us?” she whispered loudly to her friend.
“Wanda’s voice does tend to carry,” Maggie whispered back.
“Why are you whispering?” Wilma Mae asked.
“Um, no reason.” Candy looked up at the rearview mirror, so she could see the elderly woman in the backseat. “Yes, well, it does seem that Charlotte had the blueprints to your shelving unit. And, yes, it does sound like she’s the one who took Mr. Sedley’s recipe.”
Wilma Mae looked pleased with this revelation. “Well, it’s about time we made some progress. It should be simple to find the ledger now, shouldn’t it? It’s either at her house or somewhere out at the museum, where she works. Don’t you think?”
Candy nodded as she made a right-hand turn onto Maggie’s road. “Yes, that’s probably right.”
“So Charlotte’s the one who made Mr. Sedley’s stew at the cook-off, isn’t she?”
“Yes, that’s what we think happened.”
Wilma Mae was silent for a moment, considering the matter. As always, she held her purse in her lap, tightly clutching the handle with two hands. “Well, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m glad she didn’t win,” Wilma Mae said finally. “It just wouldn’t have been right—winning the cook-off with a stolen recipe, would it?”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Candy admitted.
Wilma Mae said nothing else the rest of the way. A few minutes later they pulled into Maggie’s driveway and parked behind a shiny new Chevy pickup truck with a crew cab and a long bed. Cameron Zimmerman, the boyfriend of Amanda Tremont, Maggie’s daughter, had bought the truck with money he’d inherited from his deceased mother.
As soon as Candy pulled the Jeep to a stop, Maggie jumped out and raced into the house, anxious to see her daughter. Candy was about to climb out too when Wilma Mae spoke up from the backseat again, stopping her.
“He’s her grandson, you know.”
“What?” Candy put her arm on the back of the passenger seat and shifted her body so she could turn halfway around to face Wilma Mae. “He’s whose grandson? And who’s he?”
“Roger. He’s Daisy’s grandson.”
“Roger Sykes?” Candy had to think about that a minute, remembering the conversation she’d had with Wilma Mae in her kitchen a few days ago. “You mean he’s the grandson of Daisy Porter-Sykes? I wondered if those two were related, but I kept forgetting to ask you about it,” Candy said, referring to the mistress of Cornelius Roberts Pruitt, who had stopped the business end of a ketchup bottle with her morning dress at Moosehead Lake Lodge so many years ago.
“Oh, it’s true.” Wilma Mae perked up. “I became suspicious when I saw his face at the cook-off on Saturday. He has the same high cheekbones as her, and the same profile. And his hair is nearly the same shade as hers. But it’s his eyes. I wasn’t completely positive at first, but then he looked me in the eyes for just a moment, and I knew right then and there. I practically went into a tizzy. It was about the time I was eating that delicious stew.”
“So it was a double whammy, huh?” Candy said sympathetically. “And that’s what made you faint?”
“Oh yes, I’m sure that was it. I’m very healthy for a woman my age, you know.”
“Wilma Mae, I don’t doubt that for a moment.”
“So you’ll look into it?” the elderly woman asked, pressing her.
Candy gave her assurance. “I will definitely look into it. Now, have you met Maggie’s daughter and boyfriend-in-law?”
“Oh no, I haven’t yet,” Wilma Mae said with a shake of her head.
“Well, you’re in for a treat.”
THIRTY-FOUR
They found Maggie in the kitchen with the kids, talking and laughing. Maggie had her arm thrown casually around her daughter’s shoulders, while Cameron had his hands wrapped around a double-decker Italian sandwich from a takeout place up on Route 1. Candy noticed another three or four still-wrapped sandwiches on the counter. Obviously they had stopped and put in a good supply for Cam before heading home.
Cam had grown taller and even shaggier since the last time she’d seen him just a few weeks ago. His face had also changed over the past year or so. It had become leaner and more mature as the last of his boyhood years fell away and he approached adulthood.
“It’s amazing how you stay so skinny, considering the way you eat.” Candy gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she turned to hug Amanda. She’d come to think of both of them as her own kids.
“Whatever diet secret he has, he should bottle it and sell it. He’d make a fortune,” Maggie agreed.
“I already got a fortune,” Cameron said around a mouthful of cold cuts, cheese, extra onions, and Italian dressing.
“It’s all the hiking and camping he does,” Amanda added, brushing aside a few strands of her long dark hair. “He climbed Mount Baxter a few weeks ago.”
“And there was still snow at the top!” Cameron said with genuine enthusiasm. “It was awesome.”
“You’re awesome, babe,” Amanda told him.
“No, you are,” he shot back at her, and they all laughed.
He certainly had come alive since finding out about his real birth parents, Candy mused, watching him eat and laugh with the others. He rarely used to smile, let alone laugh, except when he and Amanda were together. But now he was more social and easygoing, joining in on conversations and even expressing opinions. He seemed to have a new appreciation for life and his place in it. But his love for Amanda had never changed nor faltered.
Maggie saw Wilma Mae standing near the doorway and crossed quickly to her, pulling her into the conversation. “Wilma Mae, this is my daughter Amanda and her boyfriend Cameron Zimmerman. Amanda graduates on June 12 in the top third of h
er class,” Maggie said proudly, “and Cam’s been practically living here for the past year or so. He’s been taking care of some family business. Isn’t that right, Cam?”
The tall teenager gave her a thumbs-up, but he was too busy chewing to say anything.
“He’s working with a famous writer, who’s helping him publish a book of poetry written by his biological father,” Maggie explained. “But that’s a whole ’nother story.”
“Oh, isn’t that wonderful.” Wilma Mae’s face was as bright as a full moon as she shook hands with the two teenagers. “It’s so nice to meet you both.”
Amanda said hello to her pleasantly, and as she shook hands with Cameron, he said earnestly, “I was very sorry to hear about Mr. Sedley. He was a nice old guy. I used to see him in the hardware store.”
“Oh, thank you so much, young man. He was a dear old friend.”
Cameron took another bite of his sandwich, chewing briefly before he continued. “Yeah, he loved poking around the store, checking all the shelves and bins to see what had just come in. He used to buy tools for himself, and I think he sometimes used to buy stuff for the museum, too.”
“Oh yes,” Wilma Mae said with a smile. “He loved volunteering out there. And he frequently made donations, though not money. Just things he felt they needed, like tools and knickknacks and such. I think he recently bought a new set of chisels for the maintenance people. He was wonderful that way. Those were his two passions—cooking and the museum.”
“The lighthouse museum?” Candy asked, her interest piqued. She turned abruptly to Wilma Mae. “You never told me Mr. Sedley volunteered out there.”
Wilma Mae gave her a curious look. “You never asked. Besides, I thought everyone knew. He’s been doing it for years.”
“But . . .” Candy turned toward Maggie, her face scrunched up in thought. “Did you know about this?”
“About what? Why, what’s wrong?”
Candy drew a long face as she considered the question. “I’m not sure.”
But deep down she was sure. It was all too coincidental. She could feel her heart beginning to beat faster. Her mouth was suddenly dry.
Town In a Lobster Stew Page 25
