Friday, July 10
On the way to work the next morning, Aunt Gully asked if we could stop by the Yardleys’ house.
I’d rather have a root canal. “Sure, Aunt Gully,” I said.
Hayden’s sedan was in the driveway.
Aunt Gully carried a casserole. Mediterranean beef tagine. Trying something new.”
Mrs. Yardley answered the door. “Gully, you’re a dear.”
We all went into the kitchen.
“Hey, Allie.” Hayden came into the kitchen and gave me and Aunt Gully a hug. His pale blue button-down shirt was crisp against my cheek and he smelled like Irish Spring.
He led me out into the mudroom while Aunt Gully and his mother spoke.
“How’s your dad?” I asked.
“Sleeping it off,” Hayden said.
Spar was always a sore spot.
“Listen, I need to apologize,” Hayden said. “I got a little heated at the wake. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Hayden. I did some stupid things. It’s the last time I’ll interfere in police stuff, I promise.” We sat on a bench by the door. Rubber gardening boots lined the wall. Jackets, backpacks, and sweatshirts hung from hooks in a neat row.
“Mom says she’s going to clean out Patrick’s things,” Hayden said. “I’ll help her and then I’m heading back to Boston next week.”
“Lorel’s already gone back.”
A shiny fake leather bucket bag, hanging on a hook next to the door caught my eye. My heart rate kicked up. What had Franque said Hayley carried? A cheap pleather bucket bag. Could Patrick have taken Hayley’s bag? Was there still money in it? “Hayden—”
“Listen, Allie, those Harbor Patrol guys.” He looked away. “The police have been watching them and Patrick, too, as part of a drug-smuggling ring. That’s why I lost it a little. The cops have to be careful. We don’t want to tip our—their—hand.”
How would Hayden know this? “Are you working with—” Hayden’s look begged me to say no more. You just promised, Allie. I sighed.
So Hayden was hiding things from me. Marine insurance, my aunt Fanny. Growing up, he’d always wanted to be a cop, but had done accounting in college. At least, that’s what he said. But the way he’d acted at the wake, all this stuff he knew about Patrick’s smuggling … Was Hayden Yardley an undercover cop? I took a deep breath, decided to let it go, to keep his secret.
I punched his shoulder. “No worries, Hayden.” I stood. “Aunt Gully and I’d better get to the Mermaid.”
Hayden stood. “I’ll get your aunt. When my mom starts talking it’s hard to make her stop.”
“I know how that goes.”
As soon as Hayden went inside, I rushed to the pleather bag and looked inside. Stacks of cash were crammed inside. Thousands of dollars.
I jumped back as Hayden and Aunt Gully left the kitchen.
Hayden walked us to the van. We got in and he shut the door behind me.
“Hayden, be sure to check everything before you decide to toss it. Especially that bucket bag in the mudroom.” I squeezed his hand. “Seriously, promise you’ll check it.”
“That’s true.” Aunt Gully clicked on her safety belt. “That happened on American Pickers the other day. Some guy almost threw away a hundred dollars.”
Hayden gave me a long look. “Okay.”
Chapter 40
Saturday, July 11
“Allie, I almost forgot.” Bronwyn handed me a small white envelope. “Detective Rosato asked me to give this to you.”
“As long as it’s not a summons.” I set it aside. “I’m going to enjoy my champagne first.” A fan had sent me a bottle of incredibly expensive champagne on the last night of Ondine. Thank goodness it wasn’t Stellene’s brand.
Eden’s understudy had had her chance. Eden and Lars had left town, sending word that she was too devastated by Henry’s arrest to perform.
Aunt Gully had stayed open until eleven to accommodate the after-theater rush and had just closed the doors of the shack. Verity, Bronwyn, and I relaxed on the Adirondack chairs on the Mermaid’s lawn. The red, white, and blue bunting still hung on the shack, but the patriotic lobster had deflated and sagged off the roof.
“I wish I could’ve been on Cat Island with you.” Bronwyn shook her head. “I’m always stuck in the office. You’re always where the action is.”
“You can have the action.” My arms still ached where the mirror shards had sliced into them.
“So Stellene drugged you guys with champagne,” Bronwyn said. “How classy.”
We clinked glasses.
“I hope there’s enough evidence to nail Stellene,” Verity said.
“A lot of it is circumstantial.” Bronwyn frowned. “With all the drugs, for example.”
“Stellene isolated Hayley, a former addict who was recovering from a very serious operation, on an island with alcohol and drugs.” I shook my head. “And I bet there was something in the champagne there, too.”
“But does that make her guilty?” Verity said. “She didn’t force Hayley to overdose.”
“Well, Zoe sure knew about the drugs,” I said. “She trotted right up to Hayley’s bedroom and knew exactly where to find them. I wonder if Zoe bought all the extra drugs, too.”
I remembered the Fourth of July party at Harmony Harbor. Zoe’s friends toasting her promotion. Certainly that was payment for all the dirty work she did for Stellene.
Bronwyn shook her head. “Kudos on that recovery, by the way.”
“I didn’t think. I just reacted and dove in. I couldn’t stomach her getting away with it.”
“What about Zoe?” Verity said. “That was her at the Plex in disguise, wasn’t it? She called and said she’d identify Hayley, right? Probably was going to make up some lie so no one would know the truth about Hayley Castle.”
“But then she ran out,” Bronwyn said.
“Remember Verity said she got a text. That was right after we heard the news on the radio about someone going to identify Hayley, maybe a coworker from New Salt, or her friend from Broadway by the Bay. Stellene must have heard the same news report and called Zoe back at the last minute.”
“That outfit was a crime.” Verity and I clinked glasses.
“That’s how criminals get in trouble. That was taking a crazy chance, walking right into the police station like that,” Bronwyn said. “Zoe’s going to make a very effective witness against Stellene.”
“She’s gonna sing like a canary,” Verity said.
“Like Aunt Gully,” Bronwyn said.
“Hey!” I laughed.
“So if Zoe put the drugs in the house with Hayley, is Zoe responsible? Even if Stellene told her to do it?” Verity said.
I thought of Henry’s tattoo of the scales of justice. He’d been ready to be judge, jury, and executioner. How he could be, all at once, the fun-loving guy on Model Sailor, the sexy dream in the beer ad, a man who hit a woman so hard he left his handprint on her cheek?
I closed my eyes.
“I wonder what would have happened if Patrick hadn’t skimmed the money from Hayley?” Verity smacked a mosquito.
“If he hadn’t gambled. If he hadn’t picked backers that”—what was Lorel’s term?—“put the screws to him.” I remembered my promise to Hayden and didn’t say any more.
“Police work’s slow, but methodical,” Bronwyn said. “Patrick’s phone is open and there’s stuff there—”
I sat up. “What stuff?”
“Pictures of Lorel?” Verity said.
“No pictures of Lorel,” Bronwyn said. “Patrick recorded Stellene telling him to get rid of the body. There were lots of saved messages from Stellene about the money. And here’s the smoking gun, there are several messages telling him not to come to Model Sailor at midnight because Eden was going to be there. She told him to return her call ASAP.”
“So he never got the message and he went out to keep his appointment with her.” Because Lorel threw his phon
e in the water. When Stellene realized she couldn’t cancel their meeting, she put her murderous plan into action. “You guys. We can never, ever tell Lorel that.”
“But won’t it come out at Stellene’s trial?” Verity said.
“Stellene can buy so many lawyers, I don’t know if she’ll ever come to trial,” Bronwyn said. “How cold she was to kayak out there and wait with the gun for Patrick. And then kayak back.”
I imagined Patrick, panicked, on the phone to Stellene after finding Hayley’s dead body. Stellene instructing Patrick to dispose of the body. Patrick following her orders instead of doing the decent thing. Dragging Hayley’s body onto his boat—or maybe Miranda. I shivered. It would be fine with me if Hayden sold Miranda now.
“Did the cops test the champagne bottles from Model Sailor?”
“Budwitz is on it. I checked. See, Allie, the cops can do their jobs. They just don’t do them as dramatically as you do.”
“What about Mac? Was it against the law not to come forward to identify Hayley?”
Bronwyn shrugged.
“What about Tinsley?” Verity said.
Bronwyn shrugged again. “Who knows what she knew and when she knew it?”
“Tinsley thought she and Hayley were friends,” I said.
“And the utter worst part.” Verity poured champagne into her glass, shaking the last drops from the bottle. “Henry turns out to be an almost murderer. What a waste. I feel so cheated.”
“Do you still have that top hat?” Bronwyn asked.
“Yes,” Verity said.
“At least he paid for it,” I said.
“Just from what you’ve told me he’s guilty of assault, kidnapping, and attempted murder,” Bronwyn said. “Not good boyfriend material.”
Music thumped from the Mermaid. “Watch out, Aunt Gully’s in a disco mood.” I drained my glass.
“Let’s go dance.” Verity stood and shimmied toward the shack.
“Right behind you.” Bronwyn gathered the bottle and glasses and followed her.
“I’ll be there in a sec.” I opened the envelope from Detective Rosato.
The card had one word. “Brava.”
Aunt Gully’s Lobster Love Sauce AKA Lobster Bisque
If you can’t visit a real, waterside lobster shack you can cook up Aunt Gully’s Lobster Love Sauce for a taste of the award-winning Lazy Mermaid Lobster Roll. Lobster Love Sauce is a rich bisque, which you can enjoy by the bowl or spoon on top of lobster meat in a buttered and toasted hot dog roll.
Aunt Gully always has plenty of lobster carcasses—the lobster body and shells left behind after all the meat has been picked for lobster rolls. Start by cooking 4 (1–1½ lb.) lobsters—there are lots of good tutorials online for this step. Then enjoy a lobster feast or use the meat to make lobster rolls.
4 cooked lobster carcasses, remove intestinal tract and sac behind head, break up shells
4 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, smashed
1 medium carrot, peeled and chopped
1 bay leaf
4 sprigs fresh thyme or ½ teaspoon dried thyme
1 cup sherry (or you can substitute a dry white wine)
1 cup diced tomatoes (canned is okay)
4 cups chicken stock
1 cup heavy cream
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Over medium heat, melt 2 tablespoons butter in a large saucepan or Dutch oven. Add onion, garlic, carrot, bay leaf, and thyme. Stir until the onion is soft, 5 to 10 minutes.
Add the lobster carcasses and any extra shells and cook, stirring, about 5 minutes.
Add the sherry and tomatoes. Turn the heat to medium-high and bring to a boil, then turn down the heat to low, cover and cook for 10 minutes.
Add stock, turn heat to high and bring to a boil. Turn heat to low, cover and cook 20 minutes. Remove the bay leaf, thyme sprigs and lobster shells.
Puree bisque in a heavy-duty blender or food processor. Strain well. Return the soup to the pot and bring to a boil. Turn down heat and add the remaining butter in small pieces, let melt fully. Stir in the cream and heat through. Season with salt and pepper. Serve as a soup with crusty bread and a green salad, or spoon over lobster meat layered in buttered, toasted rolls. Serves 4. Enjoy!
Coming soon …
Don’t miss the next novel in the Lobster Shack mystery series
DRAWN AND BUTTERED
Available in March 2019 from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
St. Martin’s Paperbacks titles by Shari Randall
Curses, Boiled Again!
Against the Claw
PRAISE FOR SHARI RANDALL’S CURSES, BOILED AGAIN!
“A mystery as richly layered as a genuine Connecticut lobster roll!”
—Liz Mugavero, Agatha Award-nominated author of Pawsitively Organic Mysteries
“Curses, it’s over already! Shari Randall introduces a lively cast of characters who had me dancing through this book. Allie Larkin charmed me with her sense of humor when faced with a heartbreaking injury. The climactic scene is like nothing I’ve ever read or seen and I loved it!”
—Sherry Harris, author of the Agatha Award-nominated Sarah Winston Garage Sale Mysteries
“Randall’s first in her brand-new Lobster Shack Mystery series is a delicious cozy with deadly outcomes and plenty of probable culprits. The quaint, fictional Connecticut village and snappy title set the perfect scene, while the good flow and tight, Murder She Wrote-type storyline keep the pages turning … the red herrings Randall adds do a perfect job of misleading the audience until the bombshell ending.”
—Debbie Haupt, RT Book Reviews
“Randall has achieved a trifecta of triumph here: engaging characters, a welcoming backdrop, and a compelling plot—all of which coexist harmoniously (beyond the requisite homicide) … Curses, Boiled Again! is an accomplished debut that, like one of Aunt Gully’s famous lobster rolls, is fresh-tasting yet familiar—and entirely guaranteed to satisfy. Just know that you’ll be back for seconds…”
—John Valeri, Criminal Element
“It’s always a treat to discover a new mystery series, and this one delivers both a strong plot and artfully developed new characters. This debut series introduces a fully developed community that serves as a stellar launching point for more visits to Mystic Bay and the Lazy Mermaid Lobster Shack.”
—Cynthia Chow, Kings River Life
About the Author
A librarian and military wife, SHARI RANDALL lives near some amazing lobster shacks. She loves books, antiques, travel, tea time, and dancing. Follow her at https://us.macmillan.com/author/sharirandall/ to learn more and sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
; Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
St. Martin’s Paperbacks titles by Shari Randall
Praise for Shari Randall’s Curses, Boiled Again!
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
AGAINST THE CLAW
Copyright © 2018 by Shari Randall.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
eISBN: 9781250116734
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, ext. 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / August 2018
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
Against the Claw Page 24
