Cameron shrugged. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“And he bought the hammer from you on Saturday morning?”
Cameron nodded.
There was silence for a few moments. Candy could feel the tension coming off him. Finally she smiled and slapped her hands on her knees. “Well, okay. I guess that’s about all I wanted to ask you.” She looked at him closely. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.” He got up and walked back into the kitchen, with Candy and Amanda following. He crossed to the fridge and opened it again. “I’m starving,” he said, bending over so he could scrutinize the items inside.
Amanda edged past him and reached for the peanut butter and jelly. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”
He smiled up at her, and for the first time since he had walked in the door he looked like the teenage boy Candy knew so well. “Thanks, babe,” he said to Amanda. “You’re too good to me.”
“Aww, you’re worth it,” she said, snuggling up against him.
Candy watched them wistfully for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way. Like I said, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
They seemed to barely hear her. In fact, she felt practically invisible.
She turned toward the door. “I’ll just… let myself out. No, no, that’s okay. No reason to see me to the door or anything silly like that. I’m a big girl. I’ll be just fine.”
They never noticed her leaving.
Back out in the truck, Doc was listening to a country song and tapping away noisily on the steering wheel. He started up the truck as Candy climbed in beside him.
“So, we good to go?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I saw Cameron’s car pull up a few minutes ago.”
“Yup,” Candy said.
“Something’s going on, huh?” Doc glanced over at his daughter. “You up to no good?”
Candy gave him a sly smile. “Yup.”
He laughed and patted her on the knee as he turned the truck back toward home. “That’s my girl.”
FIFTEEN
It was nearly three thirty by the time Candy dropped off the pies at Melody’s Cafe. They had agreed to a price of nine dollars apiece, which was adequate for Candy and would still turn a nice profit for Melody, who planned to sell slices at three dollars apiece.
“That should hold me for this week,” Melody told her. “They look lovely.”
“Thanks. I’ll have more for you on Monday.”
Melody paid her in cash, which she pulled from the register, and with forty-five dollars in her pocket, Candy walked back out to the Jeep as a fierce gust of wind, full of the scent of earth and sea, swept down from the sky and assaulted her, whipping her hair about her face.
Though the morning had been fairly warm and pleasant, the day had steadily worsened as ominous clouds gathered on the western horizon. Those clouds had reached them now, the dark churning sky swallowing up the sun. Candy climbed into the driver’s seat as the first few heavy raindrops pelted the sidewalk and street around her.
She sat for a moment as the sky broke open and the deluge began. Lightning crackled in the distance, and a roll of thunder shook like a fist of fury down from the skies.
Candy wasn’t thinking about the storm, though. She was thinking about Sapphire Vine and Ray and that red- handled hammer. Something Maggie had said to her on the phone that morning kept nagging at her, tickling away at her brain: Ray wouldn’t hurt a fly, Maggie had said. He tears up when he steps on a cockroach.
Maybe so. But they had found his hammer at the scene of the crime. And according to Finn Woodbury, someone had seen Ray’s truck in front of Sapphire’s house last night, when Sapphire had been murdered. What had he been doing there? And could he really have hit her with his hammer?
Candy recalled the way Ray had cradled the hammer when she had handed it back to him that day in the barn. Suddenly she knew what had been bothering her all day.
Ray loves that hammer, she thought. The other day, he treated it like some sort of precious thing, almost as though he were in love with it. He didn’t even want me to touch it. He didn’t want it to get damaged at all. So if he loves that hammer so much, why would he muck it all up by hitting Sapphire in the skull with it? And why would he leave it there after he hit her?
None of it made any sense.
Candy started up the Jeep. She decided she had to talk to Maggie again, to try to sort it all out. She drove to the intersection of River Road and the Loop, made a left turn, then another left onto Main Street and a right onto Ocean Avenue. It could be difficult to find a parking space along here in the afternoons, but she lucked out and found a spot practically right in front of Stone & Milbury’s. Ignoring the pelting rain, she jumped out of the Jeep and dashed toward the insurance agency’s front door.
It was only a dozen steps or so, but she was soaking wet by the time she made it inside. “Whoa, is it raining hard out there!” she exclaimed as she walked through the reception area and turned the corner into Maggie’s office.
She stopped dead. Three curious faces looked up at her.
Maggie sat behind her desk, with two stacks of papers in front of her. A middle-aged couple sat in front of the desk, facing Maggie.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Candy said in surprise. “I didn’t realize you had customers.”
With the height of professionalism, Maggie rose and gave the couple a pleasant smile. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said to them. “A friend of mine. I’ll be right back.”
Taking Candy by the arm, Maggie steered her out of the office.
“I’m so sorry,” Candy said in embarrassment as they walked back into the reception area.
“Don’t worry about it.” Maggie dismissed the interruption with a wave of her hand. “We’re just finishing up some things. Where’ve you been? You look like a drowned rat.”
“It’s raining.”
Maggie scowled. “You know, they have these neat little things called umbrellas. Fabulous invention. They do a great job of keeping you dry when it rains. You might want to check one out sometime.”
“Ha, ha, very funny. Listen, I have to talk to you about something.”
“Can’t right now, honey. I’m in the middle of a meeting.” She leaned a little toward her office and called to her clients in the friendliest possible tone, “I’ll be right there!”
“When are you free?” Candy asked.
“I’m here ’til five thirty.”
“Meet for drinks after work?”
Maggie considered that for a moment. “Don’t know if I can, but I’ll try. Call me around five, okay?”
“Got it. Good luck with your customers.”
“And you get yourself an umbrella, girl. Better yet, take this one.” Maggie reached toward a twenty-year-old metal coatrack that stood near the door. A battered old black umbrella was leaning against one of the posts. “Someone left it and never came back for it, so it’s yours.”
“Thanks, you’re a doll.”
“That’s what all my boyfriends tell me,” Maggie said with a grin as she sashayed back into her office.
Outside, the wind was whipping so hard that it threatened to rip the umbrella right out of Candy’s hand. Before she knew what was happening, she was blown sideways down the street. She ducked into an alcove and stood there for a moment in the shelter of an overhang, fiddling with the umbrella, which had flipped outward, and trying to gather up the courage to make a run for her Jeep. Then a door pushed opened behind her and a tall, thirty-something man emerged from the building, nearly running her over in his haste.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” the man said, looking up.
