gray head again and jabbed a crooked finger at the keys of an ancient cash register. “That’ll be five twenty- five.”
FOURTEEN
Doc was waiting for her in the truck. He gave her his best bored look, which he had perfected over the years, as she threw the chicken wire into the back and climbed into the cab.
“Took you long enough,” he said evenly as he started the truck. “You said fifteen minutes.”
“I got held up talking to Mr. Gumm.”
“Ah, well, that’ll happen. Get everything you needed?”
“Yup.”
She wanted to tell him more-about eavesdropping on the conversation between Cameron and Officer Martin, and about Cameron’s strange reaction upon hearing of Sapphire Vine’s death-but she held back. She wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet. Instead, she fell silently into her own thoughts as Doc backed up the truck, started off along Main Street, made a right turn onto the Coastal Loop, and headed out of town. But as they came to the intersection of River Road, Candy impulsively signaled to the right.
“Dad, do me a favor and turn here,” she said suddenly.
“What?”
“Make a right turn up here.”
He looked puzzled. “I thought you needed to get home so you can deliver those pies to Melody’s Place.”
“It’s called Melody’s Cafe, and I need to stop at the Tremonts’ first.”
“The Tremonts’? Why would you wanna go there? Ed’s away and Maggie’s probably still at work.”
Candy rubbed her forehead in thought. “I’m not sure. I just want to check on something. Indulge me. Please?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I guess I’ve done that enough times,” he said as his mouth worked itself into a grin, and made a right turn at the intersection.
The Tremonts lived on the north side of the English River, in an area locally known as Fowler’s Corner. A hundred years ago, all this land had belonged to one of the town’s most illustrious former citizens, a long- whiskered gentleman known as Edwin P. Fowler who had come to Cape Willington in the 1860s when he was still in his twenties, and in the decades that followed had made his fortune in logging, banking, and land speculation.
But most of Fowler’s land had long since been sold off, and starting in the 1950s a number of side streets and cul-de-sacs had been built in the area. The majority of homes were little white capes with a few split-levels mingled in here and there. The Tremonts lived on a street of newer homes at the edge of town, in a three- bedroom green gabled house barely five years old.
Doc pulled into the driveway and Candy jumped out. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” he said, turning off the engine but leaving the radio on. He leaned his head back. “Guess I’m not in a hurry.”
Candy rang the doorbell and waited. After what seemed like an interminable period of time, the door cracked open and a curious eye peeked out. “Who’s there?”
“Amanda? It’s me, Candy.”
“Oh, hi.” The door opened a bit further. Amanda stood in the doorway, wearing white shorts and a pale pink sleeveless blouse, and eating a muffin. Candy noticed with a bit of dismay that the muffin wasn’t one of hers. “Mom’s at work.”
“I’m not here to see your mom. I’m here to see you.”
“Oh. Okay.” Amanda opened the door a little further. “You wanna come in?”
“Actually”-Candy looked past her into the house-“I was wondering… is Cameron here?”
“ Cam?” Amanda turned and looked behind her as if she wasn’t really sure. “Um, I don’t think so. Why?”
“I need to talk to him.”
Amanda’s forehead crinkled. “About what?” she asked as she took another bite of the muffin.
“Oh, nothing really important. Listen, if he comes in, would you…?”
At that moment she was interrupted by the sound of a door opening somewhere in the back of the house and a male voice calling out, “Amanda? You here?”
“Oh, there he is now,” Amanda said, chewing loudly. “So you wanna come in?”
Candy nodded. “If it’s okay.”
“Sure.”
They found Cameron in the kitchen, his nose stuck deep into the fridge. “Hey, ’Manda,” he called as he heard them approaching, “where’s the rest of that watermelon your mom-”
He stopped abruptly as he backed out of the fridge and saw Candy. “Oh. It’s you,” he said in a surprisingly cold tone. He slammed shut the refrigerator door and walked away toward the family room that adjoined the kitchen.
“Cameron, wait. I want to talk to you.” Candy followed him, with Amanda trailing behind.
“What about?” he growled, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.
“I overheard you talking to Officer Martin at Gumm’s.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I guess you were there, weren’t you? I forgot about that.” He plopped down on a relatively new brown sofa and searched around for the TV remote.
Candy stood in front of him with her arms crossed. She got right to the point. “You took the news about Sapphire pretty hard.”
“Yeah, well, it just surprised me, that’s all.”
“I wasn’t aware you knew Sapphire that well. Were you two friends?”
Cameron looked up at her crossly and then flicked his eyes to Amanda before he continued his search for the remote. “No.”
“Then why the big scene at Gumm’s?”
He gave her a dirty look. “What is this, the third degree?”
“Not at all. I was just worried about you. You seemed pretty upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine. Just hungry, that’s all.” He finally found the remote, stuck down between the seat cushions. He fished it out, leaned back, and flicked on the TV.
“Cameron.” Candy sat down beside him as he channel surfed. He wouldn’t look at her. “Cameron, I want to talk to you about the hammers.”
“What?”
“The hammers. The new red-handled hammers you got in at the store.”
He breathed out through gritted teeth. “What about them?”
Candy took a deep breath and hesitated only a moment before plunging on. “You said you sold one of the hammers to someone from Town Hall. I was just wondering what he looked like. The person you sold it to, I mean.”
Cameron glanced over at her with suspicion in his eyes. “Why?”
Candy paused again. It was a good question. What should she say? She didn’t really know the answer herself, except that some sort of instinct seemed to be driving her on. “Something just doesn’t quite make sense, that’s all,” she answered finally. “I guess I’m trying to figure a few things out.”
He considered that as he stopped channel surfing at a sports news program on ESPN. Finally he shrugged. “It was just some guy. I’ve seen him in the store a bunch of times, but he never talks to me much. He mostly deals with Mr. Gumm.”
“What does this guy look like?” Candy prodded.
Cameron’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Kinda overweight, I guess, with this big beer belly. Glasses, black hair, black moustache.” After a moment, Cameron added, “And he has kinda this red face.”
Candy thought a moment. “Ned? Is that who it was? Ned Winetrop?”
