Town in a Lobster Stew

Moving quickly before she had a chance to reconsider, she ran back along the top of the workbench toward the other end. But about halfway along she sprang off, holding the ledger tightly against her chest with one hand and the chisel in the other. She angled her jump in the direction of the door, hoping it would cut her travel time to the outside. But she landed awkwardly, since she couldn’t use her hands to balance herself properly, and it took her a few moments to recover her footing.

By the time she’d regained her balance, the compact physique of Bob Bridges was blocking her path.

And he didn’t look like he was about to let her pass.

Candy pulled to a stop, her feet slipping slightly underneath her. She scrambled backwards, holding out the woodworking tool. “Just stay where you are. Remember, I have a chisel and I know how to use it.”

“I know you got a damn chisel in your hands. I can see the thing pretty clearly from here,” Bob growled, flicking his gaze from the weapon to her face and back again. “Don’t you go hurting anyone with that thing now, especially yourself. I just sharpened it the other day.”

“Well... that’s good then. At least you know what you’ll get if you take another step.”

Bob’s head tilted oddly, as a dog might if it heard a high-pitched sound. “Hell, I don’t know what’s got into you,” he said in a mystified tone. “You’ve been coming around here the last few days, snooping around and causing trouble, and now you’re breaking into the facilities, stealing things, and threatening me with my own damned chisel. What the heck do you want?”

“I just want to get out of here,” Candy said. She retreated a few more steps, until the workbench poked her in the back.

“Well, okay,” Bob said. “Just take it easy now. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Candy wasn’t fooled. “Yeah, I bet that’s what you told the others, huh, Bob?”

Again, he gave her a strange look. “Others? What are you talking about?”

“I saw the tarpaulin. Or at least one exactly like it. And the fishing line. I know all about those.”

“About what?” His gaze shifted to the neatly folded tarp in the back corner, giving Candy the chance she needed to try for the door again. She scooted to her left, then her right, and dashed forward, headed around him, moving as quickly as she could. But he moved quickly too, shuffling across the floor, blocking the exit again. “Hey, you’re not getting away yet.”

She yelped again and retreated. “Stay back, Bob.”

“Look, I’m not playing games.”

“Neither am I. Let me go,” she said warily, watching him in case he charged her.

“Okay, you can go,” he said, “but you can’t take that with you.” He indicated the ledger, which she still held tightly against her. “That belongs to the museum. You’ll have to leave it here.”

“Leave it here?” Candy nearly shouted the words as anger mixed with the fear and panic inside her. “It’s not yours. You stole it!”

At this accusation, he looked more annoyed than anything else. “Quit goofing around and put it back.”

Candy clutched the ledger tighter to her chest. “I’m not goofing around. And I’m not giving it back. It doesn’t belong to you.”

“Of course it belongs to me.” Bob sounded irritated now. “You found it in my shed, didn’t you?”

“That’s right. I found it in your shed, Bob. What are you doing with it?”

“Oh hell, I don’t know.” He squinted at the object. But he couldn’t see its cover clearly, since she still held it tightly in her arm. “What the hell is it, anyway? It looks like some sort of book or something.”

“You know perfectly well what it is. It’s the ledger, Bob. The one written by Mr. Sedley.”

“Sedley?” At the mention of the name, Bob’s brow fell dramatically.

“That’s right. He gave it to Wilma Mae Wendell for safekeeping, but you stole it from her, didn’t you?”

Bob finally seemed to understand what was going on. His face went pale. “It’s Old Man Sedley’s?” he asked after a moment, as if the realization had only just hit him. He shifted his gaze to the ledger, studying it. Suddenly he straightened and walked forward, holding out his hand. “Here, let me have a look at that.”

Candy darted off to one side again, out of his reach. “Just stay back.”

“Look here now,” he said, planting his feet and putting his hands on his hips. “I’ve had just about enough of this. Maybe you should tell me what’s going on, so we both know.”

Something in his tone made the fear, panic, and anger inside Candy suddenly dissipate. She still stood warily in a combative stance, and she still held the blue-handled chisel out in front of her. But she was looking more closely at Bob now. She was starting to realize that something was not as it seemed. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“About the ledger.” For some reason she couldn’t explain, she held it out in front of her, so he could see its cover. “ This ledger. It was stolen from Wilma Mae’s house last week. You took it, didn’t you, and hid it up there on that shelf.” She pointed.

“No, I didn’t,” he retorted.

“But I found it there.”

“Well, I don’t remember putting it up there.”

“Don’t remember?” Candy was flabbergasted. “How could you not remember something like this? You obviously take really good care of things around here, Bob. You even arranged the tools alphabetically.”

“And by category and size,” Bob put in.

“Right, by category and size,” Candy repeated, though she hadn’t noticed that. “So how come you don’t remember putting this ledger up on that shelf?”

Bob’s confusion grew. He tilted his head again and scratched thoughtfully at his chin. “Well, now, that’s a darn good question.”

Now Candy was confused. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, you’re right. I know everything that’s in this shed. I know exactly where I put things. I even have a map that shows where I’ve placed every item, and a complete inventory of all the museum’s equipment. But I don’t remember ever putting a ledger up on that shelf. And I certainly don’t remember stealing it from Wilma Mae’s house.”

He paused, his face shifting, becoming more thoughtful. “But I think I know who did.” He held out a hand. “May I see it?” He paused. “Please?”

Candy held it tightly a few more moments, uncertain of what to do. But something in his tone made her trust him. He seemed more curious now than threatening. “Just remember,” she said, “I have a chisel.”

“I remember.” He still held out his hand.

Hesitantly, she extended her arm and gave him the ledger.

He took it carefully, drew it closer, and examined its cover. “If this is what I think it is...”

He opened to the first page and read the inscription. Grunting softly, he flipped back through a few pages. “It is Old Man Sedley’s, isn’t it?” He shook his head, deep in thought. “I can’t believe she actually did it.”

Candy knew instantly who he was talking about. “Charlotte! She took it, didn’t she?”

He looked up at her. “You know about that?”

Candy nodded. “I’ve heard things about Charlotte, yes. But honestly I don’t know what to believe. Or who to believe. So why don’t you tell me. What’s going on here, Bob?”

Suddenly he seemed very weary. He closed the cover of the ledger, looked over at his desk, and crossed to it. He flopped down heavily in the office chair, set the ledger on the desktop, and rubbed at his forehead with thick fingers. “I never should’ve got myself mixed up with her in the first place.”

“You were helping her, weren’t you? That’s why you stole the ledger for her?”

“Stole it?” Bob shook his head, his eyes hard again. “I keep telling you, but you’re not listening. I didn’t steal it.” He paused, and his face drew down into a long mask of regret. “But she wanted me to.”

“She did?” Candy took a few steps toward him. “She asked you to steal it?”

“More than that,” Bob said. “We made a deal.”

“What kind of a deal?”

When he hesitated, she spoke again, coaxing him. “Two people are dead. You need to tell me everything you know. Then we need to go to the police.”

He placed his hands on his knees and sighed. “Well, I guess you’re right. It’s just...” He paused again. “Well, there are other people involved.”