"What did she mean by that?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said, "but I think it had something to do with the house. That was what their parents had left to give " She looked at me. "The girls were both raised here, you know. Loretta was the one who turned it into a bookstore once her parents weren't able to stay there anymore; I'm pretty sure she used some of the profits to help her mother and father pay the bills."
"That sounds like Loretta," I said, thinking of the kindly woman with a love of traditional mysteries who had introduced me to Agatha Christie, Diane Mott Davidson, Sara Paretsky, and countless other amazing authors. "And I'm so glad she did. Every town needs a bookstore."
"You're absolutely right."
"How sad that it caused a breach between the sisters, though," I said. "Money can do terrible things to family, can't it?"
"Never had much myself," the woman said, "but the stories I've heard... like what happened between Cal Parker and his brother, Josiah. Tragic, what happened to Cal, by the way. I still don't think he made a good selectman, but nobody should go that way. And so young! I'm sorry you had to be the one to find him."
"It was a shock," I admitted. "Do you think his brother had something to do with it?"
She considered the question for a moment before answering. "Josiah's jealous of his brother's success," Miriam said. "Same thing as Aggie and Loretta, really. Josiah always felt he got a bum deal, despite the fact that his family gave him more advantages starting out. I hate to think he would have, but people do odd things."
"I've never met Josiah, but I can see it would be hard having such a successful sibling."
"Oh, but you did meet him," she said. "I saw you sell him a book the night of the grand opening."
"You were here? I’m so sorry I don't remember! What does he look like, anyway?"
"Bearded, a bit unkempt. Nothing remarkable, although he resembles his brother."
I searched my memory, but I'd been so preoccupied with Scooter—not to mention my ex and his author girlfriend and my old summer crush—that I didn't recall him. "I don't remember him at all," I said.
"You had your hands full that night. I'd love the recipe for those coconut cookies if you have it, though. And those look mighty good, too," she said, pointing to the few raspberry cookies left on the cake plate.
"Thanks for reminding me. Free cookie with every purchase!" I said, grabbing a napkin and lifting the lid. "These came out of the oven a few hours ago. I'll give you the biggest one," I told her.
"I shouldn't have it, but..." She took the cookie and sank her teeth into it. "Mmmm. Delicious," she mumbled through a mouthful of crumbs. "If you get tired of selling books, you should consider opening a bakery."
I laughed. "I love them both."
As she turned to go, she paused, swallowing her mouthful of cookie. "Did Loretta ever tell you about the history of this place?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I know the house was in the family for a long time, but I've only ever known it as Seaside Cottage Books."
"It used to be where the town midwife and healer lived," she said. “Loretta's great-great-grandmother had a wall full of books upstairs. If you were expecting, or cut yourself on a hook, or came down with the sniffles, you came to see Mrs. Muriel. She had a garden of healing herbs in the back—Loretta told me that a few odd herbs still pop up now and again—and she practiced out of the front room. The wealthy folks went to see the doctor, but if you didn't have the money or trusted in the old ways more than the new, you came here."
"Wow," I said, looking around me at the book-lined walls. I wondered, not for the first time, how many stories this house had seen over the years. "Anyone else of interest?"
"Well, rumor has it her grandfather was quite an important man around here during Prohibition," she said. I don't know if you know it or not, but Snug Harbor was THE place to summer for the wealthy. And the wealthy liked their liquor. Which Loretta's grandfather was happy to provide."
"Loretta's grandfather was a rumrunner?"
"It was never proven, but he had quite a network. This house was where everything was stashed; ever wonder why the cellar is bigger than the house?"
"I hadn't, really, but you're right." I'd only been down there a few times, to check the boiler; it was damp down there, and totally unsuitable for books.
"Loretta told me she never found much to show for it, though," Miriam said. “Broken glass here and there, but not much else."
"So no buried treasure?"
"Not exactly, no. Rumor has it that the stash was kept on Snug Island somewhere, and late at night, they'd ferry it over in a small boat and hide it here for distribution."
"We're right up the road from the restaurants," I said. "Was this some kind of business at the time?"
"It was just a house then," she said. "In fact, I'm not sure Loretta's grandmother knew what her husband was up to. She was the staunchest anti-liquor campaigner in town. No one realized it was her husband who was in charge of the whole network until he got caught red-handed."
"What happened?"
"Coast Guard was tipped off. He was found in a lobster boat whose entire hull was filled with cases of gin."
"Ouch."
"Thing is, he was careful. Wasn't a big spender, and no one knows where the money went."
"Maybe the cellar?"
"Maybe," she said. "Rumor had it he had a leather book where
