Town in a Lobster Stew

Twenty-Seven

Wilma Mae was in better spirits the following morning when Candy stopped by Maggie’s house around ten o’clock. They had agreed to go together to the Memorial Day Parade, which started at one.

Cape Willington’s Memorial Day Parade was a town tradition dating back to the early 1940s, and had long been both a celebration of the beginning of the summer season as well as a solemn and patriotic event commemorating those who had served their country.

From nine until one, the police blocked off Ocean Avenue for a townwide flea market, sponsored by the local American Legion post. Over the past few years, Finn had become involved in organizing the event, and he relied on Doc and the boys, as well as Marti and the ladies of the Women’s Auxiliary, to help him with the details.

Candy had planned to make only a few brief appearances at the day’s events. She hoped to grab some quick quotes and jot down a few notes for her column, but her plan was to spend most of the afternoon at the farm, working on the gardens with Doc and writing her articles, which were due the following day. But he’d taken off early in the morning to help Finn with the flea market, telling Candy he’d catch up with her later in the day. Shortly after, Maggie had called to coax Candy into attending the parade with her and Wilma Mae.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Maggie told her over the phone. “Just us three girls, out for the afternoon. Who knows, maybe we can pick up a few cute sailors.”

Candy laughed. “Well, that does sound tempting. But in case you hadn’t noticed, most of the sailors around here are marching in the parade today and they’re pushing eighty.”

“Hey, those senior citizens can boogie. Have you seen them at the VFW hall on Saturday night? And they’ll be out in droves today. It’ll be easy pickin’s for us girls. Besides, we need to cheer up Wilma Mae. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Candy finally relented, and so just after ten in the morning, the three of them climbed into Candy’s Jeep and headed toward town.

Wilma Mae had dressed for the occasion. She wore a navy blue knee-length dress with a red, white, and blue scarf tied around her neck for an accent. A large American flag broach and sensible walking shoes completed her ensemble.

Maggie had opted for gray slacks, a sage green cotton sweater over a cream-colored blouse, and stylish loafers, while Candy wore her best blue jeans and a butter-colored fleece pullover. The weather had cooled off, with the warmer temperatures of the past few days retreating southward, allowing chillier Canadian air to filter in. Still, the weatherman had promised a shift in the wind later in the day and a gradual warming into the high sixties by late afternoon. A gentle breeze out of the northwest brought with it a bit of a late spring nip. Still, few Mainers who were out and about today would notice, since they were well accustomed to climate vagaries at this time of year and knew true summer would probably not arrive in its fullness until mid-June or later — if it arrived at all.

Traffic was heavy as they turned onto the Loop. As they approached the center of town a policeman directed their vehicle toward a parking area located between the opera house and Town Park. They snatched one of the last spots, grabbed their purses, locked up the Jeep, and headed toward Ocean Avenue.

They made a quick tour of the booths and grabbed some hot dogs at a cart set up just outside Town Park. As they settled onto a park bench to eat, Candy watched Wilma Mae and noticed a definite improvement in her demeanor. She was almost chipper today, quipping away with Maggie about knickknacks they’d seen at the flea market and a small silver broach she’d bought at one of the tables. The elderly woman even smiled once or twice. Candy admired her ability to recover so quickly from the gruesome death of her longtime friend and onetime lover.

Abruptly, Wilma Mae turned. “Oh look, here comes that nice baker man,” she said, straightening her back and folding her hands neatly in her lap as Herr Georg walked up to them.

“Ahh, ladies, hello, hello! How are all of you on this fine New England day?”

They spent the next ten minutes chatting with Herr Georg, who regaled them with stories of his latest creations, including a wedding cake he was baking for a wealthy family up from Rhode Island. “Eight tiers!” Herr Georg explained. “It will tower over the wedding party at the reception. It just may be my greatest creation yet!”

After Herr Georg bid them an adieu and walked on, Wilma Mae leaned in close to Candy. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

“Who, Herr Georg? Well, yes, I suppose so.”

“His moustache is particularly elegant,” Wilma Mae said. “Do you know if he’s married?”

“What?” Candy was surprised by Wilma Mae’s questions. “Well, no, I don’t think so. I mean, no, he isn’t.”

Wilma Mae clucked her tongue. “A nice man like that, living alone. Such a shame.”

They were just starting back up Ocean Avenue toward Main Street when Candy’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and checked the readout, then flipped the phone open and held it up to her ear. “Hi, Dad. What’s up?”

“Candy,” he said, an urgency in his voice. “Where are you?”

She told him.

“I’m over at the diner with the boys,” he said. “You’d better get up here right away. Something big is happening. You need to hear this.”

Suddenly she felt very worried. “What’s going on, Dad?”

“I don’t know if I should say anything over the phone.” His voice had fallen to a whisper.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. No one’s listening on our line. Just say it.”

“Well...” He seemed to think it over, then said secretively, “Finn just got word. There’s been a huge discovery, and the police are trying to keep it all hushed up for the moment, but it’s about to break all over town.”

“Dad.” Candy had stopped along the sidewalk, and Maggie and Wilma Mae were staring at her with questioning looks on their face. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Charlotte Depew,” Doc said finally. “She’s been murdered.”