Cookie nodded. “That would be lovely.” She used her spatula to point to the butcher block. “And I steeped some tea for you while I made my own.”
It’d taken months, but Cookie had finally weaned her away from her jolt of morning caffeine. Although, truth be told, she still sometimes snuck an afternoon cup for a pick-me-up.
“Thank you,” Maris said, bringing it to the counter and taking a sip. “Mmm. From the garden?”
Cookie nodded. “Chamomile, mint, and lemon verbena.”
“Wonderful,” Maris said, setting it down, and grabbing a few oranges.
“How was the rally yesterday?” Cookie asked. “It must have lasted longer than planned.”
Maris paused. “Um, not exactly.”
At the tone in her voice, the chef looked over. “What?”
As Maris recounted the grim details of Audrey’s death, Cookie’s face registered the shock. “That beautiful girl,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry to hear this.”
For a few moments they stood in silence, until Maris said, “Not that her death isn’t tragic enough, but it seems that the townsfolk of Pixie Point Bay are getting the blame.”
“Us?” Cookie said, but then she cast her glance toward the window, in the direction of the town. She heaved a heavy sigh. “I suppose it’s to be expected.” She looked at the warming trays. “Well, let’s get a move on. The living need to eat.”
Maris helped the chef move everything to the dining room sideboard, followed by fresh coffee in the vacuum carafe and orange juice in the pretty decanter. She had just finished checking the hot water dispenser when Joseph came down the stairs and into the dining room.
“Good morning,” Maris said, smiling.
His grim expression was complemented by his tousled hair and blood-shot eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept. “Not particularly.”
Maris knew better than to reply. If anyone blamed the townsfolk more, Maris couldn’t imagine who it would be. After his outburst with Mac yesterday, his greeting was understandable and even expected. She would leave well-enough alone.
By the time Lydia arrived, and then Ralph, Maris and Cookie were seated with their breakfasts. Although good mornings were exchanged, Joseph kept his attention on his plate and remained quiet.
“This French toast is to die for,” Lydia crowed as she went back for her second helping. “Cookie, you are wasted here.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Maris said quickly, smiling. “I think the mountain must come to Mohamed as far as the breakfast buffet of the B&B is concerned.”
Cookie nodded at Lydia. “Thank you,” she said, and looked at Maris. “And thank you.” As she chopped into her cheese omelette with the side of her fork, she smiled. “I think I’ll stay.”
“Hey, Lydia,” Ralph said. “I don’t suppose you’ve snorkeled the bay, have you?”
“No,” she said, taking her seat again. “Why, are you thinking of it?”
“I am,” he replied, getting up with his plate, “but I’m not familiar with the currents, and where might be the best spot.”
“For snorkeling?” Joseph said. “You’re good on the currents anywhere near the south end. But for clarity, I’d dive closer to the center.”
“Oh,” Ralph said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Are you a diver, Joseph?”
The lawyer cast a quick glance at Maris before answering. “Let’s just say I picked it up after having done a little diving related to my work. I also happen to be privy to certain assessments regarding this bay’s currents. Frankly, it’d make for a great snorkeling spot.”
As the three of them chatted about snorkeling and other kinds of diving, Maris noted that they were all careful to avoid recent events. While Lydia and Ralph talked about their jobs, she assumed that they already knew what the corporate lawyer did and who he worked for. As Maris was finishing her juice, Toler’s phone rang. He frowned at the Caller ID before answering.
“Toler,” he said. Then he glanced at Maris. “Good morning, Sheriff.”
He quickly got up and went into the library, but his voice carried. “Spear fishing?” There was silence for a few moments. “Well, yes. I would think that’d be the first person to question.” Again there was silence. “Yes, at the tackle shop.” Maris knew they had to be talking about Ryan Quigg. “All right. Thanks for keeping me in the loop.”
Maris exchanged a look with Cookie. It sounded as though the murder weapon might have been a spear from a fishing gun, and that Ryan was a suspect.
But what neither Mac nor Joseph knew was that Ryan wouldn’t be at his shop until later. At this very moment, he’d be where he was every morning—fishing at the pier.
She gathered up her glass, tea cup, and plate. “I’m going to go run an early errand,” she said to Cookie. To Lydia and Ralph she said, “I hope you enjoy your day.”
9
After the foggy drive around the bay, Maris parked in the pier’s lot—where she’d been chatting with Mac only yesterday. Despite Audrey’s death, several cars were parked, and it seemed that it was mostly business as usual. Maris pulled the collar of her jacket up against the misty chill and headed to the pier. As she strolled past the various fishermen with lines dropped over the rail, she took a quick look in their buckets.
“Good looking perch,” she said to a woman in a bright purple hoodie. The striped yellow of the fish was unmistakable.
“Thanks,” she replied, smiling. “They’re really biting today.”
Maris moved on to the next fisherman, an older man in an olive drab coat and matching ball cap. “Morning,” he said to her with a little nod.
“Ooh,” she said, looking down at a couple dozen small, sleek, silvery fish. “The jacksmelt seem to be swarming this morning.”
“They’re biting pretty well,” the man agreed, as Maris moved on.
Checking the morning’s fresh catch was something that Maris had done with Aunt Glenda. One morning a week, they’d pick up coffee and a pastry and then walk the foggy pier. It was Glenda who’d taught her how to recognize all the fish.
“Flounder,” Maris said, looking into the next container. “Great
