Town in a Blueberry Jam

“No, it was my fault. I just had to take refuge from the rain for a few minutes.”

The man stopped beside her and squinted up into the sky. “It is coming down heavy, isn’t it?” He looked over at her. “I love summer storms like this, don’t you?”

“Well, yes,” said Candy a bit bashfully, “but it doesn’t do much for one’s appearance.” She pushed some of the wet locks off her forehead.

He laughed pleasantly. “You look just fine to me.” He studied her a little closer. “You’re Candy Holliday, aren’t you? You live with Doc out at Blueberry Acres?”

“That’s right. Have we met before?”

He held out his hand. “Name’s Ben Clayton.”

“Oh! We have met, I think,” Candy said, shaking hands with him, “though for the life of me I can’t remember where. You work for the Cape Crier, right?” The Cape Crier was the local weekly newspaper-The Voice of Downeast Maine, as its tagline claimed. It went out to readers in parts of two counties-Hancock and Washington.

“Actually, I’m the editor,” Ben said.

“Oh, that’s right. I’ve seen your name in the paper. What a fun job.” But as the words left her mouth, the smile fell from her face as she realized what that meant. “Oh! You must have worked with Sapphire.”

His expression, too, took on a measure of seriousness. “I was her boss.”

“I didn’t realize,” Candy said. “I’m so sorry.”

Ben nodded. He was taller than she was, just shy of six feet, she guessed, and lean, with a rugged face and light brown hair that he had let grow a bit long in the back. He wore jeans and an open-collar blue shirt, and carried a scuffed, dark brown leather satchel. Candy wondered why she hadn’t noticed him much around town before.

“Sapphire’s death was a shock to us all,” he said heavily. “It’s tragic how something like that can happen so quickly, and someone you knew and liked and worked with is just… gone, just like that.”

“It’s terrible, just terrible,” Candy agreed, eyes downcast.

They both were silent for a moment. Then Ben asked, “Were you a friend of hers?”

“An acquaintance,” Candy hedged. “We knew each other, but we didn’t hang around socially or anything like that.”

“Hmm,” Ben said, watching her.

What does that mean? Candy wondered.

“You know, this may sound strange,” he continued after a moment, “but it seems to me that Sapphire didn’t have many friends. Oh, she knew a lot of people-I was always astounded by how many people she knew-but she didn’t seem to be close to many of them.”

Candy wasn’t sure how to reply to that. “Well,” she responded tactfully, “maybe it’s because she was such a… unique personality.”

“You can say that again.”

They stood awkwardly in silence for a moment. Finally Candy looked out at the sky. “Well, I guess I should make a run for it…”

She straightened out the umbrella and turned up her collar, preparing to brave the rain, but then Ben touched her by the elbow. “Candy, before you go, can I ask you something?”

Candy looked at him curiously. Oh my God, she thought as a small smile flickered across her face, is he gonna ask me on a date? Swallowing, she said, “Sure.”

“This may sound odd,” he began, then hesitated. He seemed to reconsider what he was about to do. “Maybe… maybe I should wait until another time.”

Candy forced her smile just a bit as she turned to face him. “No, go ahead. I’d like to hear your question.”

“Well, all right, then. I have to confess that I’ve done some checking up on you.”

That took Candy by surprise. “You have?”

He laughed and looked a bit embarrassed. “I hope that didn’t come out the way it sounded. You see, Sapphire keeps these files on people in town, including you.” As the smile fell from Candy’s face, he added quickly, “For her column, you know. She does extensive research. I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as she does-um, did-in, um, ensuring the accuracy of her columns. She collected everything-clippings, biographical histories, business cards and announcements, magazine articles, press releases, anything she could get her hands on. And all that information went into her files, for research.”

“And she has a file on me?” Candy asked incredulously.

Ben nodded. “The police left just about an hour ago. They wanted to go through Sapphire’s office and files. Just routine, they said. They didn’t find much, but they sure made a mess of the place. Anyway, as I was straightening up, I came across your file stuck in the back of one of the drawers, so I flipped through it. I guess curiosity got the better of me. Anyway, I noticed that you’ve done some writing in your career.”

“Oh. That.” Candy made a face. “That was years ago. I worked for a marketing firm in Boston for ten years, and I wrote a few magazine articles on the side-personality profiles, mostly, interesting business people around town, that sort of thing.”

“Published in some of the local newspapers,” Ben prompted.

“They were small papers. I’m not sure anyone even read them. And they paid practically nothing.”

“But you have written and been published?”

“Well, yes, but-” Candy paused and tilted her head, unable to keep a confused look off her face.

“I guess I should get to the point,” Ben said, sounding professional again. “As you know, Sapphire’s weekly gossip column was one of the mainstays of the newspaper. In fact, I probably would not be exaggerating if I said it was one of the best-read features in the paper. That and the school lunch menu. And the police blotter, of course.” He sighed and went on. “I’d probably also be accurate if I said that we sold a lot of papers strictly because of Sapphire’s column. And now that she’s gone…”

“Yes?”

“Well, I’m in a bind, and I was wondering if, well, if you’d like to take over the writing of her column.”

Candy eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m completely serious,” Ben continued quickly. “Here’s the thing. I have to get someone on that column right away, or else I’m going to have a big hole in next week’s paper. I’d do it myself, but I’ve got my hands full with Sapphire’s murder investigation and Jock’s death and the festival and everything else that’s been going on around town. Wow, what a week.” He made a face and shook his head. “Plus, I’m a bit thin on staff because of summer vacations. And a lot of my volunteers have been bailing on me. I just need someone to write up some info about the pageant and contestants, plus some local gossip stuff. You know, the sort of thing Sapphire used to do. Jane Doe got married, Bobby Jones scraped his knee, Eddie and Edith’s kid joined the Navy, that sort of thing. Community news.”

Candy wasn’t sure what to say. “Well, I don’t know.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have much trouble doing it, not with your writing experience. I can show you, if it would help to convince you.” He pointed up the stairs behind them. “You got a minute?”

Candy looked out at the rain, which if anything was coming down harder than before, and then looked over at Ben Clayton.

Tall Ben. Handsome, lean, rugged Ben. Smart Ben. Very smart Ben.

A newspaper editor. Employed Ben.

Without seeming too conspicuous about it, she glanced down at his left hand.

No ring.

Tall, handsome, rugged, smart, employed, single Ben.

“Well, sure, okay, I guess I have a few minutes,” Candy finally said with a sweet smile.

He flashed a broad grin, showing off beautiful teeth. “Great! Come on, I’ll take you up to our offices.”

The Cape Crier was run out of cramped quarters above a real estate office. An ancient dark staircase led up to the rabbit warren of rooms that wound their way back into the nether regions of the building. “It’s a bit of a mess up here,” Ben apologized as he led Candy to a small, windowless office not much bigger than a closet. He pulled a string attached to a porcelain light fixture screwed into the ceiling. The room was cast in the harsh light of a single naked bulb.