Town in a Lobster Stew

Forty-Three

Four days later, on Saturday afternoon, Candy and Maggie sat at an outside table on a second-floor deck overlooking the busy wharves of the city of Portland and the Fore River beyond. They were at a popular chowder house, sipping strawberry margaritas and enjoying the unseasonably warm day. Most of the tables around them were filled with chattering guests, and Candy could hear music playing somewhere nearby. From where she sat, she could see, out on the river, an amphibious duck boat chugging upstream, giving sightseers an aquatic view of the city.

“This is nice,” Maggie said, tilting her face back to catch the sun’s rays. “I’m glad we decided to do this.”

“Me too,” Candy agreed.

“Too bad Wilma Mae can’t be here to enjoy it with us.”

“Yes, it is. But I think she’ll be happy. It’s probably for the best.”

“True, true. Still, I’m going to miss her. She’s a sweet old lady. And we were becoming such good friends. Although she kept beating me at pinochle. I think she cheated.”

Candy laughed. “Wilma Mae didn’t cheat.”

“Sure she did. I think she kept a few cards stuffed up her sleeves — or maybe down her blouse.”

They both laughed at the disjointed image of prim and proper Wilma Mae Wendell cheating at cards.

They’d dropped Wilma Mae off at the Portland Jetport earlier in the day. The elderly woman was flying out to California to move in with her sister. A change in scenery was just the thing she needed, she’d decided a couple of days ago, right after Mr. Sedley’s funeral on Thursday morning. Wilma Mae’s sister had invited her out for a permanent visit. She’d even booked a cruise, just for the two of them. They were headed up the Pacific coast to Alaska on a fourteen-day seafaring adventure the following week, and Wilma Mae was greatly looking forward to it.

It had been a frantic forty-eight hours, getting the elderly woman packed and her house closed up. Candy and Maggie agreed to keep an eye on it for her until she decided what to do with it. But she knew she’d never live in it again.

And they knew they might never see Wilma Mae again.

“Well, at least things can start getting back to normal,” Candy said, and she looked over at her friend. “Even for you. So you’re going back to work, huh?”

Maggie beamed. “I sure am. I heard from Mr. Gumm yesterday. I start working at the hardware store on Monday.”

“And how much do you know about hardware?” Candy asked.

Maggie beamed even broader. “Absolutely nothing! But Cameron promised to teach me everything he knows. I can’t pass up a deal like that. But mostly I’m just going to run the cash register to start.”

“Well, that certainly sounds exciting.”

“It’s not much money,” Maggie said with a sigh, “but it’s a start. I’ll work my way back up in this town again. Just you wait and see.”

“I have no doubt you will. You’re pretty industrious. You’ll do fine.”

“Yeah, I think I landed on my feet. I learned that from Mr. Biggles — may he rest in peace. So... have you heard anything else from the police?” Maggie asked curiously, taking a sip of her margarita.

“They called yesterday. They want to talk to me again early next week.”

“Again?”

“Yup. Just to verify things, they said. Go over it once more. But I think they’ve got most of the story down.”

“Are you still in hot water with them?”

Candy smiled. “Of course. I’m always in hot water with them. But they’re getting used to me. I think we’re starting to understand each other.”

“Are they going to return the ledger to you?”

“They said they will — at some point. I don’t know when, though. It might not be until after the trial.”

“And did they ever find the missing pages?”

Candy shook her head. “That’s the most frustrating part. I know Roger ripped something out of that ledger. I saw him do it. But when they searched him, they didn’t find anything. And he’s not talking. Whatever he took out of that ledger has mysteriously disappeared.”

“There’s no way of knowing what was written on those pages?”

“Apparently not. I asked Wilma Mae about them, and she said she couldn’t remember — or just refused to. But I can’t blame her. She says she’s done with it. When or if I ever get the ledger back, I’m supposed to pass it along to Juanita at the diner.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Maggie said. “It sounds appropriate.”

“It sure does, with Juanita winning the cook-off and all,” Candy agreed. “One day soon everyone in town might be able to taste Mr. Sedley’s lobster stew recipe, if they decide to put it on the menu.”

“So life goes on in Cape Willington, Maine, doesn’t it?” Maggie said philosophically.

“It does.”

“Speaking of life going on, how are things with you and Ben?”

Candy made a face and shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s still devastated. He just can’t believe Roger would murder someone. And threaten me. Ben feels responsible. And, I think, somewhat embarrassed. He says he’ll make it up to me somehow.”

“Hmm,” Maggie said with a lascivious grin, “that sounds like fun.”

Candy waggled an eyebrow at her. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”

They were silent again for a few moments. After a while Maggie asked, “Heard any news about Captain Mike?”

Candy shook her head as she gazed out at the river. “Not a word.”

“Think we’ll ever see him again?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, I have a feeling he’ll pop up again sometime in the future.”

Candy turned to look at her. “I hope you’re right. I hope he’s okay. Hey, speaking of missing persons, have you heard anything about Mr. Milbury? Have they caught him yet?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. I got a call this morning before I left the house. They nabbed him at the Mexican border south of Bisbee, Arizona. He was trying to flee down to Guatemala or Costa Rica or someplace like that. But he didn’t make it.”

“And he’s headed to jail?”

“Yup.”

“Well, maybe he can share a cell with Roger.”

And with that gratifying thought, they both turned and watched the boats cruising down the Fore River, headed past the islands of Casco Bay and out to the cold, deep sea beyond.