Will reached over and took the remote out of Maggie’s hand. “So. Now you know I didn’t invent Tasha.”
“I should call Gussie.”
“So she can call off the hurricane? Or the wedding?”
Maggie paused. “She won’t do that. And the hurricane will have passed by Saturday.”
“Some guests may not be able to get here. And if any plans have to be changed, or locations moved…well, that’s one reason I came a little early. I figured maybe Jim and Gussie could use an extra pair of hands.”
His hands were moving, slowly, surely, over Maggie’s body, as she allowed herself to fall back onto the pillows. “I like your hands. They can’t have them right now.”
“That’s good,” Will murmured huskily. “Because right now they’re busy. Very busy.”
Chapter 27
The Sea Serpent.Tipped-in lithograph (from an oil painting) by American artist N.C. Wyeth (1882-1945) for Kenneth Roberts’s Trending Into Maine, 1938. Wyeth and Roberts both had homes in Maine and were close friends. Old tales say sea serpents were occasionally seen off the coast of Maine, most notably near the Isles of Shoals in 1820 and near Arundel in 1830. The immense serpent illustrated is rising out of the ocean; its head is as high as the sails on the vessel next to it. 5.5 x 7.75 inches. Price: $50.
Gussie smiled when Will and Maggie both showed up at Aunt Augusta’s Attic the next morning.
“How’s the bride doing?” asked Will, bending down to give Gussie a hug.
“Glad to see you made it here safely,” said Gussie. “You’re looking well rested this morning, Maggie.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” said Maggie, looking from one of them to the other. “Gussie, you didn’t even hint you knew Will was driving down a day early.”
“Hey, you’re not the only one whose telephone is connected to the world,” replied Gussie. “Will and I talk once in a while, too. And it was a surprise! Will, before I forget: Jim and I absolutely love the bedwarmer. Not, of course, that we would need such an item.”
“Decorative use only, my dear woman, of course,” said Will, with a twinkle. “Although if we lose power Friday night…”
“Gussie! Have you heard about the hurricane?” Maggie said.
“Jim called and told me last night. I can’t believe we’ve been so involved we didn’t know.” She shook her head. “He’s going to try to pick up enough plywood today for the shop windows.” They all looked at the wide store-front windows she and Maggie’d admired a few days before. “We’ll put off decorating them until after the storm. I can do them with Ben’s help after you’ve gone. Why risk having anything damaged? We’ll concentrate on the rest of the store today. Will, can you help, too?”
“That’s what I’m here for. Do you need anything done at any of your houses before the storm? I can help Jim with the plywood on the shop windows, too.”
“The house I just moved out of is fine. There’s nothing to move inside, and no large windows to cover. Jim’s moving the few pieces of outdoor furniture at his house into his barn this morning. I’m a little worried about our new place, though. It’s near the beach, and since it is new, we haven’t seen it through any storms yet. We don’t know where weaknesses might be in the roof or around the foundation. And there are picture windows overlooking the Bay.”
“I assume they’re the strongest glass you could buy,” said Maggie.
“Double-paned and insulated and all of that,” agreed Gussie. “It is New England, and we live here year ’round. But in a hurricane all bets are off. I’m thinking we should cover them before the storm.”
“I haven’t seen your house, but if it’s that close to the Bay, that sounds like a good idea. The last I heard Tasha was a Category Three, with winds over a hundred and ten miles per hour,” said Will. “Of course, she could weaken before she gets to the Cape. And you’re on the northern side of the Cape, not the southern. The damage should be worse there.”
“When Hurricane Carol hit the Cape in 1953 the storm surge on the south drove salt water inland as far as Route 6. Hundreds of homes were flooded, and thousands of trees were killed. I remember seeing all the dead, white trees, on the Cape when I was a little girl. My father used to call them ghost trees, and talk about how frightening the storm had been. A lot of old-timers still remember. The spire of the Old North Church in Boston was blown down in Hurricane Carol, too. We don’t get many bad hurricanes hitting up this far. It’s like Maine. But once in a while we get surprised. And I don’t want to take a chance with our new home.” She picked up her phone. “I’ll make sure Jim gets enough plywood for those windows.”
While she was talking with Jim, Maggie and Will moved empty cartons from the front room into the back and folded them.
“Look around, Will. This room is going to be the new Shadows Antique Print Gallery,” Maggie said, proudly.
“What?”
“Gussie’s offered it to me for my prints,” she explained. “I’ve already measured it. I’m going to hang framed prints on the walls, and put three or four of those folding stands I have for large prints on the floor over here, below the windows.” She showed him. “I’ll bring four of my show tables up for the center of the room, and put stands on them for smaller groups of prints.” She turned to look at him. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s great you’ll have a place to sell your prints that’s closer to Maine,” he said. “If it works, maybe it’ll mean you won’t have to do as many shows. And you’ll have to come to the Cape to replenish and change your inventory. This would be a great place for us to meet, too.” He smiled and gave her a hug. “I can think of a number of reasons why your having your prints in Winslow is a good idea.”
Maggie’s phone rang. “Excuse me!” she said, untwining herself from Will’s arms. “Yes, Diana? No! No.” Maggie’s face paled. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”
“What is it?” Will asked, as Maggie almost ran back to the front room, pulling him with her.
“Gussie, it’s awful. You won’t believe it. Diana just called.” She took a deep breath. “Cordelia’s been shot. She’s dead.”
Gussie stopped arranging toys and stared at her. “When? What happened? Oh, Maggie, I can’t believe it! Who would hurt Cordelia?”
“Who’s Cordelia?” said Will, looking from one of the women to the other.
“Diana slept in this morning. When she came downstairs she didn’t see Cordelia in the house. She thought she’d gone for a walk. When Cordelia still hadn’t come home after she’d had breakfast Diana decided to see if she was on the beach. That’s where she found her.”
“Like Dan.”
“I don’t think she’d been in the water. She didn’t say that. She just said she was on the beach.”
“She’s called Ike?” Gussie checked.
“He’s already there. I told her I’d come, too.”
“Go, then. My scooter’s no use on the sand, and Jim expects me to be here. You and Will go. She needs someone with her.” Gussie shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Why? I still can’t imagine a possible reason.”