Candy forced her smile just a bit as she turned to face him. “No, go ahead. I’d like to hear your question.”
“Well, all right, then. I have to confess that I’ve done some checking up on you.”
That took Candy by surprise. “You have?”
He laughed and looked a bit embarrassed. “I hope that didn’t come out the way it sounded. You see, Sapphire keeps these files on people in town, including you.” As the smile fell from Candy’s face, he added quickly, “For her column, you know. She does extensive research. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as she does-um, did-in, um, ensuring the accuracy of her columns. She collected everything-clippings, biographical histories, business cards and announcements, magazine articles, press releases, anything she could get her hands on. And all that information went into her files, for research.”
“And she has a file on me?” Candy asked incredulously.
Ben nodded. “The police left just about an hour ago. They wanted to go through Sapphire’s office and files. Just routine, they said. They didn’t find much, but they sure made a mess of the place. Anyway, as I was straightening up, I came across your file stuck in the back of one of the drawers, so I flipped through it. I guess curiosity got the better of me. Anyway, I noticed that you’ve done some writing in your career.”
“Oh. That.” Candy made a face. “That was years ago. I worked for a marketing firm in Boston for ten years, and I wrote a few magazine articles on the side-personality profiles, mostly, interesting business people around town, that sort of thing.”
“Published in some of the local newspapers,” Ben prompted.
“They were small papers. I’m not sure anyone even read them. And they paid practically nothing.”
“But you have written and been published?”
“Well, yes, but-” Candy paused and tilted her head, unable to keep a confused look off her face.
“I guess I should get to the point,” Ben said, sounding professional again. “As you know, Sapphire’s weekly gossip column was one of the mainstays of the newspaper. In fact, I probably would not be exaggerating if I said it was one of the best-read features in the paper. That and the school lunch menu. And the police blotter, of course.” He sighed and went on. “I’d probably also be accurate if I said that we sold a lot of papers strictly because of Sapphire’s column. And now that she’s gone…”
“Yes?”
“Well, I’m in a bind, and I was wondering if, well, if you’d like to take over the writing of her column.”
Candy eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m completely serious,” Ben continued quickly. “Here’s the thing. I have to get someone on that column right away, or else I’m going to have a big hole in next week’s paper. I’d do it myself, but I’ve got my hands full with Sapphire’s murder investigation and Jock’s death and the festival and everything else that’s been going on around town. Wow, what a week.” He made a face and shook his head. “Plus, I’m a bit thin on staff because of summer vacations. And a lot of my volunteers have been bailing on me. I just need someone to write up some info about the pageant and contestants, plus some local gossip stuff. You know, the sort of thing Sapphire used to do. Jane Doe got married, Bobby Jones scraped his knee, Eddie and Edith’s kid joined the Navy, that sort of thing. Community news.”
Candy wasn’t sure what to say. “Well, I don’t know.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have much trouble doing it, not with your writing experience. I can show you, if it would help to convince you.” He pointed up the stairs behind them. “You got a minute?”
Candy looked out at the rain, which if anything was coming down harder than before, and then looked over at Ben Clayton.
Tall Ben. Handsome, lean, rugged Ben. Smart Ben. Very smart Ben.
A newspaper editor. Employed Ben.
Without seeming too conspicuous about it, she glanced down at his left hand.
No ring.
Tall, handsome, rugged, smart, employed, single Ben.
“Well, sure, okay, I guess I have a few minutes,” Candy finally said with a sweet smile.
He flashed a broad grin, showing off beautiful teeth. “Great! Come on, I’ll take you up to our offices.”
The Cape Crier was run out of cramped quarters above a real estate office. An ancient dark staircase led up to the rabbit warren of rooms that wound their way back into the nether regions of the building. “It’s a bit of a mess up here,” Ben apologized as he led Candy to a small, windowless office not much bigger than a closet. He pulled a string attached to a porcelain light fixture screwed into the ceiling. The room was cast in the harsh light of a single naked bulb.
“This is-sorry, was-this was Sapphire’s office.”
Candy wasn’t impressed. In fact, she found it hard to hide her disappointment. The newspaper business always sounded so glamorous to her, but this was far from what she expected.
A small metal desk was shoved into one corner. A computer that must have been five years old-at least-sat to one side of the desktop. On the other side were metal trays overflowing with files, notes, and papers in disarray. A gray metal file cabinet and a rickety old chair were lined up against the opposite wall.
Sapphire had done her best to add some spice to the place. Posters of kitties and horses covered cracks in the walls, and a Tiffany-style lamp sat on one corner of the desk. A colorful, cozy-looking knitted cushion covered the seat of the desk chair. Knickknacks and paperback novels lined a sad-looking shelf. Dated press passes were thumbtacked to a small bulletin board on the wall in front of the desk, along with neatly printed three-by-five cards that said things like, “You look mahhhvelous today” and “You go, girl!”
It all made Candy feel incredibly depressed.
Barely noticing the clutter, Ben crossed to the desk and plucked a green file folder from the top tray. “Like I said, the police have been through here, so it’s a bit of a mess.”
How could you tell? Candy nearly blurted out.
“Anyway,” Ben said as he flipped open the folder and ruffled through the papers inside, “here are some clippings of Sapphire’s previous columns, so you can see the kinds of things we’re looking for. I’ve also included some notes that she made at… um… at the end of last week, as well as a few notes of my own. Unfortunately, she never really had a chance to get started on this week’s column. It was supposed to be a firsthand account of the pageant, of course. I thought she had done some preliminary research work on it, but I haven’t been able to locate any of that information yet. Once I dig around a little it’ll probably turn up.”
He closed the file and held it out to Candy, who took it tentatively. She looked around. “You mentioned something about other files?”
Ben held up a finger. “Right.” He turned to the file cabinet and pulled open one of the drawers. “She kept all her research in here.” He ran a finger along a long line of files, arranged alphabetically by name, Candy saw. Many of the names she recognized.
Ben continued. “A few of them are gone, of course. The police took Ray’s and a few others. But they didn’t find much. I’ve been through a lot of these. There’s nothing you’d call injurious or scandalous in them. It’s all pretty harmless.”
He drew out a few of them and flipped through the papers inside to show her.
“Can I see the file she kept on me?”
“Huh? Oh, sure.” Ben turned, dug back into the filing cabinet, and pulled out a blue file. “This is yours.” He handed it over, a bit sheepishly, she thought.
With some trepidation Candy flipped open the cover and glanced at the contents, but Ben had been right. A few clippings about Blueberry Acres, a photocopy of a newspaper article Candy had written a half dozen years ago (though she had no idea where Sapphire had found that), and a loose-leaf page with a few notes jotted on it. One scribbled line in particular caught Candy’s attention. It read, “lonely divorcee.” Candy noticed that there was a little heart over the i in divorcee.