here pretty soon.”
“At least I know what they’re serving for lunch,” Roger said, flashing his dazzling smile. “I’m looking forward to it, actually. It’ll give me a chance to sharpen my taste buds. It was nice to meet you, Candy. We’ll have fun working together. I’ll see you shortly.”
As Ben and Roger moved away, Candy felt a nudge in her back. “So, you got a new boyfriend?”
“Huh?” Candy turned around.
Maggie stood behind her, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Who’s Mr. Handsome?” She pointed with her eyebrows at the disappearing backs of Ben and Roger.
“The guy with the goatee? That’s Roger Sykes. He’s the new judge today — well, the
“Well, he can be my friend too. He reminds me of a young Burt Reynolds. I’ve always had a thing for guys who look like that. Do you think he’d ever go for a gal like me?”
Candy considered that. “Maybe. Of course, he’s probably married with four kids.”
Maggie looked dejected. “You’re probably right. Just my luck.” She paused, and they both noticed Roger turn around to glance in their direction. He waved.
“Isn’t that cute?” Maggie waved back. “I don’t think he was looking at me, though. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he has eyes for you.”
“Aw, go on, you’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. I saw the way he was ogling you.”
“He wasn’t ogling me,” Candy said with a laugh.
“Well, that’s what it looked like to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Ben has some competition.”
Candy scoffed at the remark. “They’re friends. Nothing like that could ever happen.”
“Things like that happen
Candy laughed again, though it was a bit forced this time, as she pulled her notebook and pen out of her back pocket. Quickly she jotted down a few things while they were fresh in her memory.
“Oh, here comes Wilma Mae,” Maggie said.
Candy looked up. The elderly woman was walking across the crowded lawn, looking totally disoriented. She didn’t seem to know where she was. Then she saw Candy, and recognition dawned. She hurried over to them.
“Oh, Candy, I’m so glad you’re here,” Wilma Mae said, her voice trembling. “I still can’t seem to find Mr. Sedley. He never returned home, and I’m incredibly worried about him. Where could he be?”
“We’ve alerted the police,” Candy said. “I’m sure he’ll turn up soon. I really wouldn’t worry about him too much. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation and he’s fine.” Deep inside, she hoped she was right.
“Oliver told me you’re going to serve as a judge in Mr. Sedley’s place.”
Candy nodded. “I’ve agreed to do that, yes. I hope it’s okay with you.”
“Oh, it’s fine, dear, fine. I just wish Mr. Sedley was here. He does love this event so much.”
Candy pointed toward the judges’ tent. “Look, Wilma Mae, why don’t we take you over to the judges’ table and get you something to drink? We’ll find you a comfortable chair, and you can sit and wait there until the judging begins.”
“Oh, Candy dear, that would be wonderful. I don’t know what I’d do without you. To be honest, I could do with a nice warm bowl of lobster stew.”
“I know just where to get one for you. Come on.”
Taking Wilma Mae by the arm, Candy and Maggie escorted the elderly woman across the lawn to the blue and white striped tent. Candy set Wilma Mae down in a padded wicker chair, while Maggie ran off to find her a bottle of water.
Candy had planned to visit the other booths, but instead she was pulled into a series of conversations with people who wanted to meet the new judge. Maggie returned with several bottles of water, handing one to Candy, and sat down with Wilma Mae as the day warmed. Before Candy knew it, an hour had passed, and when she looked around, covered bowls of lobster stew, in groups of three, were being set out on a long table adorned with neatly pressed white tablecloths.
In front of each group of bowls was a numbered placard but no other identifying information; this would, presumably, ensure the judges’ objectivity. Only Oliver and Robbie knew who had created each of the sample stews. There was a bowl of each stew for each of the three judges.
As Candy took the seat next to Wilma Mae, Oliver appeared from inside the inn. He had changed his clothes for the judging and presentations. He now wore sharply pressed gray slacks, a light blue shirt with a yellow bow tie, a navy blue blazer, and a stylish wide-brimmed hat.
He walked down several steps to the lawn and crossed to a microphone set up on a podium to one side of the judges’ table. He flicked on the mic, tapped it a few times to make sure it was hot, and then said, “Welcome, everyone, to the Twenty-Ninth Annual Cape Willington Lobster Stew Cook-off!”
The crowd gathered around the tent and podium, as well as others across the lawn, responded with a warm round of applause. Oliver put on his reading glasses, looked down at a sheaf of papers in front of him, and launched into his opening remarks.
“As you know, our little event has traditionally served as the kickoff of the summer season here in Cape Willington. We have the good fortune of a beautiful day, and we have eleven very talented contestants who have made some wonderful stews for us to sample today.”
As she was listening to him speak, Candy spotted Roger Sykes, who stood near Oliver, along with Alby, Robbie, and Wanda. He must have sensed her looking at him, for he glanced her way and gave her a warm smile before turning his attention back to Oliver.
Wanda, however, ignored her completely.
“As you might have heard,” Oliver told the crowd, “we’ve had to make some last-minute changes to our lineup of judges this morning. Brant Wisely, who has been a good friend of this event, sent his regrets earlier in the week. Stepping in for him today is a highly qualified individual who owns two award-winning restaurants down in Boston — Harbor Seafood on the waterfront, and the Captain’s Table at Copley Square. Ladies and gentlemen, would you please give a warm welcome to today’s primary judge, Mr. Roger Sykes!”
Roger raised his hand slightly and turned this way and that as the crowd applauded politely. Oliver pulled him toward the podium, and after a few moments, Roger acquiesced and leaned toward the mic.
“First, I’d like to apologize for not being as handsome nor as talented as Brant Wisely,” he said charmingly, drawing a few chuckles from the audience. “I know how much all of you were looking forward to meeting Brant and having him serve as a judge for today’s event. However, I promise you, I’ll do my very best to fill his sizable shoes. I’m looking forward to meeting the contestants today and to tasting all your wonderful stews.”
As the audience applauded again, Oliver referred to his notes before he continued.
“Our next judge,” he said, “needs no introduction. She has been a mainstay of this event almost since its inception and has won it herself six consecutive times. Please welcome back to our event Mrs. Wilma Mae Wendell!”
Candy and Maggie helped Wilma Mae stand as the crowd applauded. The elderly woman did her best to smile. But she seemed preoccupied and quickly sank back down into her seat.
“Are you okay, Wilma Mae?” Candy asked, leaning close to her.
The elderly woman smiled bravely. “I’ll be alright.”
“We’ll get you something to eat in just a few minutes.”
Candy turned back to the podium as Oliver glanced her way. “Finally,” he said, “we have a last-minute fill-in for one of our honorary judges who couldn’t make it today. I’m sure you’ve all read her wonderful columns in the
Candy rose briefly, flashed a smile at the crowd, waved, and sat back down, all in the space of three seconds.
Maggie, who was sitting nearby, patted her shoulder. “Well at least no one can accuse you of hogging the
