“Maggie!” Candy yelped, offended.
“Candy and I were just having a pleasant conversation,” Sebastian said diplomatically.
“Is that what they call it these days?” Maggie gave him a wink.
“If you must know,” Candy said archly, “I was just asking Sebastian about the rumors that Sapphire had bribed one of the pageant judges.”
“Ooh.” Maggie rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Sounds like I made it here just in time.” She looked pointedly at Sebastian, as did Candy. “So?”
For a few long moments Sebastian J. Quinn stared back at them with something approaching disbelief in his eyes. Then he laughed as he signaled for the check. “Ladies, ladies, you know I can’t talk about anything like that. I’m sworn to secrecy. Besides, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. Perhaps the rumors are wrong. Perhaps Ms. Vine won the pageant fair and square.”
Candy tilted her head thoughtfully, sharpening her gaze on him. “That’s what Herr Georg said. Sounds like we have a conspiracy on our hands.”
“Then you also have quite an investigation on your hands,” Sebastian said as he slid from the booth and reached into a pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. He dropped a ten onto the table. “I wish I could continue this delightful conversation, ladies, but I have a few poems to write. If you’ll excuse me…”
After he left, Maggie slipped around to the other side of the booth. “I guess we chased him off.”
“Think he’s hiding something?”
“No doubt about it. He knows something, that’s for sure.”
“Maybe he knows how Sapphire won that pageant.”
“He’s probably covering up for someone,” Maggie said as she pulled a menu out from its place between the plastic bottles of ketchup and mustard at the end of the table. “I’m telling you, that whole thing was rigged.”
“That’s what Mrs. Pruitt thinks too.”
“Mrs. Pruitt?” Maggie looked surprised. “You talked to her?”
Candy nodded. “About an hour ago.”
“What! And you didn’t tell me?”
“You just got here.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get talking, girl. And don’t you dare leave out a single tidbit. I want to know everything.”
So as they ordered-a grilled chicken salad with extra alfalfa sprouts and tomatoes for Maggie, a veggie burger with mushrooms and onions, and coleslaw on the side for Candy-the topic of conversation focused on Candy’s visit with Mrs. Pruitt. That led to a discussion of Candy’s red-handled hammer theory, which was still under development-that somehow Ray’s hammer had become mixed up with another one, which had been the actual murder weapon.
“It’s the only explanation,” Candy said as she took a bite of her veggie burger. “Ned even told me that his hammer is missing, which I find incredibly suspicious. I know the answer to this whole mess has something to do with those damned hammers.”
“Have you asked Ray about it?”
“Yeah, Doc and I talked to him this morning, but we got nowhere. He was too much of an emotional mess to tell us much of anything. I doubt he’s told the police much either.”
“Have they charged him with anything yet?”
Candy shook her head. “I didn’t think to ask.” After a moment, she added, “How do things like this work? With the police, I mean?”
“Well,” Maggie said thoughtfully as she munched on her salad greens, “after the perp has been arrested, he’s booked and there’s an arraignment, I think, and a bail hearing. And then I think he’s formally charged, probably at the county courthouse in Machias. Or something like that.”
“How long does all that take?”
Maggie scrunched up her nose. “A couple of days, I think?”
“Hmm.” Candy’s mouth twisted as she thought. “There’s not much time left then. I’ve got to figure this thing out pretty quickly, or Ray’s going to be in a heap of trouble.”
“News flash, sweetie. He’s already in a heap of trouble!”
“That’s true, isn’t it? Guess I’ve got to do some more digging to see if I can get to the bottom of this whole mess. Speaking of digging, did I tell you that I was in Sapphire’s office yesterday? And that I got a job offer? From Ben Clayton?”
“What?” squeaked Maggie. “No, you didn’t! You little weasel! You know you’re supposed to tell me these things the moment they happen! Why didn’t you call me? When did all this take place?”
“Yesterday afternoon, right after I left your office.”
“Did he rescue you from that rainstorm?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“And he wants you to work for him? Doing what?”
“Writing a column. Actually, taking over Sapphire’s column.”
Maggie was almost beside herself with excitement. “And you accepted his offer, right?”
“After thinking it over for a while, yes, I did.”
“You had to think it over?” Maggie looked stunned.
“I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it.”
“Are you daft, girl?”
“It’s a big commitment. A column a week.”
“So what’s the problem? You’re smart. You can do that standing on your head with one hand tied behind your back. Is he paying you?”
“We agreed to seventy-five dollars a week.”
“Honey, you’ll be loaded!” Maggie beamed for a moment, but the smile slipped from her face, and she suddenly looked depressed. “How did I miss all this? I guess I really am out of the loop, aren’t I?”
“You’re definitely missing out on the good stuff.”
“I’ve got to get out more. See more people.”
“Tell you what,” Candy said with mock sympathy. “I’m headed over to Ben’s office after lunch. He wants me to pick up some files and fill out a few forms. Why don’t you come with me? You can see Sapphire’s office-you know, check out the place where she worked.”
Maggie’s jaw dropped. She looked as if she had just won the lottery. “Honey, just try to keep me away!”
TWENTY
Maggie walked over to the Cape Crier ’s office on Ocean Avenue, since it was just a block away, but Candy drove the Jeep, thinking she might need it. She found a parking spot down toward the end of the block, across from the town park. Upstairs, Ben was pleased to see her. “Hi, Candy.”
“Hi, Ben. I’ve brought a friend of mine along. You know Maggie Tremont, right?”
“Sure. Maggie and I practically work next door to each other. Hi, Maggie.”
“Hi, Ben. This is really exciting-for Candy, I mean.”
He smiled, though he looked a bit frazzled. The sleeves of his blue oxford shirt were rolled up, his tie discarded, and his long brown hair was charmingly askew. He looked like a preppy school kid studying for exams.
“I’m really glad you decided to take this job, Candy,” he said honestly. “I’ve got everything ready for you.”
He handed her a manila folder. “Here are some forms for you to sign-a W-2, workman’s comp, that sort of thing,” he said, talking fast. “If you could get them back to me in a day or so, that’d be great. I’ll need your Social Security number so I can get you set up with payroll. You’ll also find a list of publishing dates for the rest of this year, and the deadlines for your column. Generally, it’s due every Monday at noon. Keep in mind that we suspend publication for two weeks at the end of August, which should work out pretty well for you-you’ll have only two columns due before the break, so you’ll have a little extra time to get your sea legs before we hit the fall issues, which can get hectic. Let’s see, what else? Don’t worry too much about a headline and deck-I’ll write those or the copy editor will. She’s a volunteer-great person-you’ll really like her. Anyway, about seven hundred words should do it each week-three pages typewritten. Nothing fancy with formatting. We use Microsoft Word. You can just e-mail the column to me-send it as an attachment.” He snapped his finger, as if he had just remembered something. “That’s right-I’ve got to set you up with a new e-mail address. You’ve got a computer at home, right?”