Town in a Lobster Stew

yes, that’s why I was out at the museum. You were the most likely suspect, and Wilma Mae’s convinced you took the recipe from her.” She paused, looking hard at Wanda. “So, as long as we’re making confessions... did you?”

“Did I what? Steal the recipe?” Wanda snorted, though it might have been a laugh. It was hard to tell. “I won’t lie to you. I’ve thought about it for a long time. I’ve been trying to get my hands on that recipe for years. Those two old coots didn’t need it anymore. What good was it to them? They’d both retired from the competition. It was a total waste. So yeah, I’ve been after it for a while. It’s time Wilma Mae passed it on to someone else who can use it. I even offered to pay her for it. I offered him money too... back when he was alive. But it didn’t work. For whatever reason, they just couldn’t seem to part with it.”

“Maybe that’s because it has sentimental value to them,” Candy said, irritation creeping into her tone. “You’d know that if you talked to her. But I guess you did talk to her, didn’t you? You just didn’t listen to her.”

An uncomfortable silence hovered for a few moments between the two of them. Eventually Wanda broke the silence by letting out a breath of air through her nose. “I suppose Wilma Mae told you I visited her recently.”

“She mentioned that, yes,” Candy confirmed. “She said you visited her several times over the past few weeks. You know you scared the poor woman half to death.”

Wanda’s body shifted uneasily. “That was never my intention. But I was getting impatient. I was trying to push her a little. But mostly I just wanted to know more about that recipe.”

“Why? What’s so important about it?”

Again, Wanda snorted. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’re still new around here, aren’t you? You have no idea how much some folks want to win that contest.”

“But why?” Candy asked again, trying to understand.

“Because of the trophy,” Wanda snapped, “and the prestige that goes with it. You don’t know this, because you haven’t lived here long enough, but if you have that cook-off trophy sitting on a shelf in your home, you can write your own ticket in this town. Suddenly you know all the best people. You get invited to all the right parties. You’re someone people look up to. Winning that trophy means a lot in this little town. A lot. There are people who would do anything to get their hands on it.”

“Anything?” Candy asked, her voice suddenly quiet. “Even murder?”

“Even murder,” Wanda confirmed, and then she shut her mouth abruptly, as if she fully realized what she’d just said. She also seemed to realize where they were. Her head twisted left, toward the auditorium, as if she could see through the curtains and out toward the balcony. She appeared to be listening for something. After a few moments, she turned back toward Candy. “Did anyone see you as you came in here?”

“No. The place is empty.”

“And you came alone, right?”

Candy swallowed and a moment later hoped Wanda had missed that little giveaway. “I came in here alone,” she said, knowing it wasn’t a complete lie. She’d left Finn in the parking lot and had walked into the building by herself.

Wanda gave her a suspicious look but finally shrugged. “We can’t stand out here in the open talking. This way.”

She flicked on her flashlight and, pointing it toward the floor, headed off through an opening in another curtain, then along the building’s rear wall, to a storage room at the very back of the stage area. She walked in, keeping the flashlight pointed low. “We can talk privately in here.” She stopped at the center of the room, turned, and waved to Candy. “Come on in. Shut the door.”

Candy paused just outside the doorway, peering inside. She flicked on her own flashlight and shined it around the room. It was just an old storage area, perhaps eight by ten feet in size. The place looked dusty, cold, and largely unused. White swaybacked shelves along the left wall were stacked with dusty props. Moldy boxes were piled in a back corner, and a table and two metal chairs were pushed up against the right wall. Old posters hung on the bare plastered walls, with peeling paint up along the ceiling and in the corners.

She entered the room cautiously, taking only a few steps inside, and somewhat reluctantly reached around to close the door behind her. She crossed her arms, leaving the flashlight on, so its beam illuminated the shelves on her left and gave them some light. “So what’s this all about? Why all the secrecy?”

“Because,” Wanda said, “in case you hadn’t noticed, someone’s been killed. That’s pretty serious business. It means there’s a murderer in this town. And I have no intention of getting murdered myself.”

“Why would someone want to murder you?”

Wanda let out an annoying sound to indicate her impatience. “I told you. I saw someone using Mr. Sedley’s recipe yesterday. And that means I might know who stole the recipe from Wilma Mae’s house.”

Candy felt a chill.

Whoever stole the lobster stew recipe must have murdered Mr. Sedley.

“You think that person had something to do with Mr. Sedley’s death?”

“Do you?” Wanda asked, volleying the words back to her.

Candy shook her head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess.”

“Exactly. That’s why I have to be cautious.”

“So who is it?” Candy asked point-blank, uncrossing her arms. She was suddenly very curious to hear Wanda’s revelation.

“You have to promise first,” Wanda said quietly, “to keep this to yourself.”

Again, Candy found herself becoming irritated. “There you go again, playing games.”

“And I told you, I’m not playing games.” Wanda’s tone was hard and unyielding. “I came to you for a reason. I could have gone to the cops.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Wanda hesitated for a moment, as if reluctant to say the next few words. “If you must know, it’s because you’re the only person around here who seems to know what’s going on. And, well, you’re the only person I thought I could trust.”

That caught Candy off-guard. She rocked a little bit, as if lightly slapped on the shoulder. “Really. You trust me? After all those e-mails and letters you’ve been sending to the paper, after all the accusations and threats to get me fired? You trust me?”

“I know. Strange, isn’t it?” An uncompromising smile crossed Wanda’s face, disappearing as quickly as it had come. “I hate to admit it, but it’s true. I had to tell someone about this. I thought of everyone I know. But there’s no one else I could completely trust. I know I disagree with you a lot. I still think you’re too new in town to do what you’ve been doing at the paper. You don’t deserve that job.” She paused, composing herself, letting her rising anger pass. “But I’m not going to hold that against you right now. The truth is, you do have experience with this sort of thing. And that’s what I need right now. I need a detective. I need someone who knows what they’re doing. And I need someone to help me figure out what’s going on in this town.”

Wanda paused as she took in a deep breath. “If it’s who I think it is, it’ll cause a huge stink. So I have to make absolutely sure that if I accuse someone, they’re one-hundred-percent guilty. I don’t want to get caught with egg on my face. I can’t afford to look like a fool. But someone’s been up to no good, and I think I know who it is.”

“Is it someone we both know?”

“It is. The last thing I want to do is accuse an innocent person. So you have to agree to keep this between us until we get to the bottom of it.”

Candy considered that. After a moment, she nodded slightly. “Okay, we’ll keep this just between you and me — at least for now. So, who is your suspect?”

“I’ll tell you,” Wanda said slyly, “but before that, I have another question for you: what do you think happened to Mr. Sedley?”

Candy had been puzzling it out, and she had a theory. She decided there was no harm in sharing it with Wanda. “My guess? He saw someone breaking into Wilma Mae’s house — probably the same person who stole the recipe. He tried to stop them — and got himself killed.”

Wanda’s face dropped into a frown as she listened. “I thought you’d say something like that. And you know