Town in a Blueberry Jam

to Cameron and held it out to the teenager.

Cameron eyed the package suspiciously. “What’s that?”

“Take a look. I think you might be pleasantly surprised.”

Cameron hesitated, but upon playful prodding and a whisper of encouragement from Amanda, he took the envelope. He studied it in his hands, then looked up at Sebastian with questioning eyes. For a moment Candy thought he might hand the envelope back to the poet, but his curiosity finally got the best of him. He tugged at the envelope’s end flap and peered inside.

He seemed to sense then what the envelope held, and reached inside cautiously with thumb and forefinger, withdrawing a sheet of paper, one among many. He unfolded it carefully, wincing slightly as it crackled with age, and gazed at the page, his eyes shifting back and forth as he puzzled over the tight handwriting he found on the sheet. His brows came together. “Is this what I think it is?”

“It’s what’s left of your father’s poetry,” Sebastian said. “I brought it up here with me, intending to hand it back to your mother once this whole business with her — the blackmailing, that is — was finished. But when she went back on her deal, I decided to keep it a while longer. Your father passed that envelope to me nearly twenty years ago. He valued my opinion back then, I suppose. I meant to read it and pass it back to him, but, well, I never had the chance. Some of it has been published — in my first book — but much of it remains unpublished. You see, I’m not a complete thief — I didn’t steal everything of his. I’m not sure what I planned to do with it, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s yours.”

Cameron read the words on the page again, then carefully folded the sheet and placed it back into the envelope, which he now held tightly, close to his chest, as if it were a great treasure, and in truth, for him at that moment, no treasure could have held more value. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly, as if uncertain what to say. Finally he said the only thing he could think of.

“Thanks.”

“You know,” Sebastian continued, “I’m sure there’s more than one agent who would be thrilled to get his or her hands on what you’ve got in that envelope there. If you were so inclined, you could gather your father’s poetry together and publish a new book — posthumously, under his name this time.” He paused. “Should you require assistance, I would be glad to provide what expertise I could — completely free of charge, of course.” He smiled, then added sincerely, “Your father was a good poet, Cameron. The world should be able to read the rest of his work.”

For the first time that night — for the first time in several days, perhaps even weeks — Cameron looked hopeful. “You really think I could get these published?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Well, then, yeah, I’d like to do that.”

“Excellent!” Sebastian said. “Before I leave town next week, you and I can sit down and we’ll get started.”

“Well, I guess that settles it then,” Maggie said with a wide smile, clapping her hands together.

But Candy had a difficult time sharing her friend’s enthusiasm. “Not quite. Don’t forget about Ray. He’s still in jail.”

Maggie’s smile faltered. “Oh yeah. I guess it slipped my mind.”

“And there’s one big question that still hasn’t been answered — who killed Sapphire Vine?”

“Yes. Yes, I see, you’re right,” Sebastian said thoughtfully, his fingers stroking his beard. He looked up quickly then, around at the others. “Well, obviously, it wasn’t me, was it?” he reiterated, just in case anyone had forgotten. “But who else could it have been then?” He considered the problem for a moment, then an eyebrow rose as a thought struck him. “Perhaps one of the other judges?”

“What?” Candy’s ears perked up. “What makes you say that?”

Sebastian tilted his head and his gaze narrowed. “Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Consider the facts: Sapphire blackmailed me into voting for her, but my votes alone probably were not enough to throw the pageant her way. Perhaps she was blackmailing another.”

“Perhaps,” Candy agreed, still unwilling to tell him of Herr Georg’s part in Sapphire’s pageant scheme.

But what if there had been a third judge involved? Candy mused.

“Furthermore,” Sebastian continued, “she was killed just two days after the pageant. Very suspicious, I would say — it suggests there must have been some connection. And then, of course, there’s the matter of Jock Larson.”

“Jock?” Candy said, surprised.

“Jock?” Maggie echoed, sounding equally surprised.

“Yes, Jock. His death and the death of Ms. Vine were both suspicious, were they not? Granted, there’s no proof that Jock Larson was murdered — but what if he had been? What if there’s some connection between the two?”

“What if... ?” Candy said softly, her mind working.

“Well,” Sebastian said, throwing up a hand, “I doubt we’ll solve the problem tonight. Perhaps it would be best to let the police handle this matter from here on.”

Candy nodded, deep in thought. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Well,” Maggie cut in, “I think that’s our cue to leave.” She gathered up Cameron and Amanda and steered them toward the door. “Time to go home, kids.” As she made her way outside, she waved back at Sebastian. “It’s been fun. Really. Let’s do it again sometime. Candy, you coming?”

Outside, the storm had eased a bit. The sea was still in a fury, but the driving rain had let up. The lane that led back to the main road was a soggy, puddle-laden mess but proved no problem for Cameron’s truck and Candy’s Jeep. Maggie sat in silence as they drove through the darkness back toward home, following Cameron’s taillights. Candy was silent also, deep in thought. She had the radio on, and the announcer was talking about a severe weather watch and possible flooding throughout the region, but even that barely registered. She felt a buzzing in her chest, the rattling of an idea that was building inside her, layering outward, forming itself into a full-fledged thought that still needed a few moments to mature. But she pushed it forward anxiously, until it threatened to burst from her.

“The judges,” she said finally, cutting into the silence, after they had driven a few miles.

“I’m sorry? What?”

Up ahead, Cameron turned off toward Fowler’s Corner, but on an impulse, Candy gunned the Jeep and continued on, straight ahead.

Maggie watched Cameron’s taillights trailing off to their right, then looked curiously at her friend. “We’re not going home?”

“Not yet, no.”

“You’ve got something else in mind tonight?”

Candy looked over at her. “I do.”

“And what, pray tell, might that be?”

“I don’t think you’re going to like this, but we’re going to break into Town Hall.”

Thirty-Five

“It’s unlocked.”

“How can that be? They don’t leave this place open at night, do they?”

“Who knows? But it’s a bit of good luck for us. Now we don’t have to break anything — we can just walk right in. Come on.” Candy pushed open the back basement door of the Pruitt Opera House and peered at the darkness inside. “Good thing I still had that gear from last night in the Jeep.” She flicked on a flashlight and shined the beam into a long dark hallway. Behind her, Maggie folded up her umbrella and noisily shook it out, letting loose a spray of raindrops.

Candy jumped. “Hey, watch where you’re shaking that thing,” she hissed, obviously spooked. “And try to keep it down, will ya?”