buy a new fridge and dishwasher when the old ones went out. The rest of the money she still had in a savings account at a bank in Bangor, but she was hesitant to touch it, thinking some day she might buy a place of her own.
For now they lived off Doc’s Social Security and his retirement money from the university, from the twenty or thirty thousand they made every year selling blueberries, and from the odd jobs Candy did around town. For the most part they lived comfortably enough, until unexpected bills started to pile up or when something special was needed. There were days, when the checking account was near empty, that she considered heading up to Bangor or down to Portland to try to get back into a marketing firm. But every time she considered that option she quickly put it aside. Such a job, she knew, would bring back too many memories of her earlier life, and she resolved again to try to make her current situation work.
So she was grateful for any extra income-even if it meant making a few extra dollars a week by baking pies for Melody’s Cafe.
Several hours later she pulled the last two pies out of the oven, set them on the counter to cool, walked out onto the porch to rest for a moment, and promptly fell asleep in a chaise lounge. The ringing phone woke her.
Maggie was on the other end of the line. She sounded frantic. “Are you watching TV?”
“No, I’m… I’m baking,” Candy answered, still feeling groggy. “Why?”
“Turn it on. Now. Channel seven. I’ll call you right back.” She hung up.
Candy glanced up at the clock. It was just after noon. Had she slept that long?
She yawned, poured herself a cup of lukewarm coffee, and flicked on the small TV set in the corner of the kitchen counter. As the sound and picture came on, she heard the news announcer speaking, starting in midsentence.
“… just after ten thirty this morning. The body was apparently discovered by a neighbor, who called the police. The victim has been identified as thirty-seven-year-old Sapphire Vine, who…”
Candy gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth as she watched the image of a stretcher being wheeled out of the front door of a Victorian house. The body lying on the stretcher was draped in a white sheet.
“… was crowned as Cape Willington ’s Blueberry Queen just this past Saturday night. According to observers, Ms. Vine’s appearance in the annual pageant was somewhat controversial, since contestants are usually limited to girls of high school age.”
A homemade video of Sapphire dressed as a blueberry and reciting her poem appeared on screen. It was soon replaced by more shots of the ambulance and police cars.
The announcer continued. “Sources tell us that Ms. Vine was a columnist for the local newspaper and was a respected resident of the town. According to Cape Willington Chief of Police Daryl Durr, the death is being treated as a homicide, and police say they have arrested a suspect. He is identified as Ray Hutchins, a local handyman. An investigation is underway. We’ll keep you posted on further developments. Now for a check on the local weather, we’ll turn to our own Kimberly Frank, who tells us that it’s going to turn stormy…”
TWELVE
Candy felt her legs go numb. Before they had a chance to collapse beneath her, she crossed to a chair and sat down heavily. Her fingertips were tingling, and there seemed to be a buzzing sound in her ears.
Sapphire murdered? Ray arrested?
How could that be?
She didn’t have much time to consider an answer, because the phone rang again. Candy rose shakily to answer it and then sat back down.
“Did you see it?” Maggie asked breathlessly.
“I saw it. I don’t believe it, but I saw it.”
“Wasn’t that utterly, totally bizarre? The way they brought her body out on a stretcher like that? It was so undignified, but at least she got her final moment in the spotlight. I half expected her to jump up in her cowgirl outfit and start reciting poetry.”
“It doesn’t seem real,” Candy replied, leaning forward and putting a hand to her forehead. She felt hot.
“Oh, it’s real all right. Someone really, truly did it. Someone murdered our Blueberry Queen.”
Candy took in a sharp breath. “That’s right! I hadn’t thought about it like that. Her Majesty is dead, isn’t she?” She paused, thinking. “But if Sapphire’s gone, that means…”
Maggie picked up the thread, finishing her thought. “It means, by decree, that the Blueberry Queen sash and crown must be handed over to the first runner-up.”
“Haley Pruitt!”
“That would be her, the granddaughter of our dear old rich friend, Mrs. Pruitt.”
“So justice is served-Haley will get what probably was rightfully hers in the first place.”
“True, but doesn’t it sound suspicious to you? If I didn’t know better, I’d say Old Lady Pruitt had something to do with this.”
Candy felt a jolt of realization shoot through her. “You think so? You really think she had Sapphire rubbed out?”
“Who knows? It’s possible, isn’t it? It sure would make a lot of sense.”
“I suppose so, but… they said they’ve arrested Ray. They must think he had something to do with this.”
Maggie snorted, a distorted blast of noise coming over the phone. “Ray Hutchins? Oh, come on! Do you really think he could do something like that?”
“I… I don’t know,” Candy said thoughtfully. “I guess not, since you put it that way. It doesn’t seem possible, does it?”
“Are you kidding? It’s ludicrous! Our little ol’ Ray wouldn’t hurt a fly. He tears up when he steps on a cockroach.”
It’s true, Candy thought, remembering the look on Ray’s face a few days ago when he had put the sides of the booth on the wrong way. “But what’s the connection? How’d he get himself arrested for killing Sapphire Vine?”
“Who knows? But I can tell you right now they’re barking up the wrong tree with that guy.”
“But if he didn’t do it,” Candy said, her mind working feverishly, “then who?” She paused as she collected her thoughts. It took her a few moments before she could put everything in order. “Even though she had motivation, I can’t really imagine Mrs. Pruitt doing something like this-no matter how much she hated Sapphire and wanted Haley to win. And it couldn’t have been one of the other contestants, could it? Or the
That got a chuckle out of Maggie. “Me? Hah! Listen, honey, don’t think I didn’t think about it more than once. In fact, I wish I
Candy smiled as Maggie continued, obviously on a roll. “Besides, if I’d done her in, I wouldn’t make a secret of it. I’d be shouting it from the rooftops until they dragged me down and hauled me off to the looney bin. They’d probably even make a TV movie about me. Maggie Tremont, Blueberry Queen Murderer. I’d finally get my name in lights, just like I always wanted.” She let out a final laugh. “So what about you? Are you the killer?”
“Me?” Candy sighed. “Not me. I didn’t have any motive to kill her. I’ve got nothing to gain. Besides, I get woozy at the sight of blood-I have to lie down when I get a paper cut. I could never do anything like that.”
“Well, if
“No, what?”
“It means they’ve arrested the wrong person. And that means the real murderer is still running loose around Cape Willington.”
That sent a chill skittering up Candy’s spine. “You’re right.” Instinctively she looked up to see if the kitchen door was locked, and through the window saw Doc’s pickup truck coming up the dirt lane. He had gone into town
