butler approached.
“Ms. Candy Holliday to see you, madame,” the butler announced formally as he presented Candy to his mistress.
“Thank you, Hobbins. Would you tell Cook that she may serve us now?”
Hobbins! That’s the butler’s name! Candy made a mental effort to lock it into her brain.
“Of course, madame,” Hobbins the butler said, using a tone that was more polite and respectful than the one he’d used with Candy. He pivoted perfectly on his heel and left the room.
Mrs. Pruitt set aside her magazine and held out a hand without rising. “Candy dear, how nice to see you again,” she said, a practiced smile on her aging face.
She was a handsome enough woman, Candy now saw close up, though thin as a stork. Her gray hair was cleverly arranged and amazingly well maintained, even in the summer heat. Her eyes were intelligent and watchful, her complexion clear and creamy. Even her wrinkles looked artful, giving her a sophisticated appearance in keeping with her carefully honed image.
“Won’t you please sit down?” Mrs. Pruitt motioned to a chair opposite her.
“Thank you for seeing me,” Candy said as she settled into the wicker chair. “Your house is beautiful.”
“Well, thank you for saying so.” Mrs. Pruitt nodded graciously. “But you’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
Candy’s head bobbed up and down. “Three years ago, with the Garden Society.”
“Yes, I thought so. With your friend-her name was…”
“Maggie,” Candy finished for her. “Maggie Tremont.”
“That’s right. Maggie. A delightful woman. Wonderful sense of humor. She’s doing well, I hope?”
And so it continued as Mrs. Pruitt’s cook appeared bearing a sterling silver tray. Upon the tray sat a flowered china teapot in shades of pink and apricot, matching Royal Doulton teacups and saucers, and a silver serving plate piled high with cookies, cakes, and other assorted goodies.
Mrs. Pruitt poured, and gazing out over the sea, they sipped and chatted pleasantly about various community- related subjects and people until Mrs. Pruitt finally said quite pointedly, “I suppose you’re here to ask me about that Vine woman and the pageant.”
“Oh.” Candy had to set her teacup down so she could focus. “Well, yes, actually. That
Mrs. Pruitt swiveled toward her, giving Candy her full attention. “What would you like to know?”
Candy paused a moment, organizing her thoughts. She wished she had brought a pen and notepad so she appeared more official. “Well, I was wondering”-she cleared her throat-“I was wondering if you could tell me your reaction to what happened that night.”
“My reaction?” Mrs. Pruitt frowned. “My reaction,” she repeated. “Hmm.” She considered this a moment. “Well, as you probably are aware, I was quite upset by the whole affair. It was simply horrendous of them to crown that Vine woman as the Blueberry Queen. Totally irresponsible, and a total travesty. To think that anyone on that stage was better than my Haley is simply ludicrous,” Mrs. Pruitt said with a flare of righteous anger. It was as if she had been waiting for days for someone to ask her opinion of what had happened that night, and it all came pouring out of her, but she quickly caught herself and, straightening her shoulders, adjusted her tone. “Of course, with what has happened in the past day or so, the events of that night have been completely overshadowed. Naturally, Ms. Vine’s untimely death is a terrible occurrence. Nonetheless, she did not deserve to win that crown.”
Mrs. Pruitt nodded her head sharply, as if to put a fine point on her statement.
Candy picked up the teacup again and took a sip of tea before proceeding, holding the cup with both hands, giving herself a moment to form her next question. “So is it your opinion that you-or, er, Haley was unfairly treated?”
“Of course! It’s obvious the judges were in error,” Mrs. Pruitt stated adamantly. “As I have said, Haley clearly was the best contestant in the pageant. Anyone who was there could see that. Talentwise, she was far superior to the other girls.” Mrs. Pruitt sharpened her gaze on Candy. “Do you believe otherwise?”
Candy had to admit that she didn’t. “Haley’s performance was clearly the best.”
Mrs. Pruitt nodded approvingly.
“But if that’s true-and we both agree that it is,” Candy went on, thinking out loud, “and if it was as obvious to others in the audience, including the judges, as it is to you and me, then how did Sapphire win? Why wasn’t Haley crowned the Blueberry Queen?”
“An excellent question,” said Mrs. Pruitt. “You said you work for the newspaper. Perhaps you should investigate.”
“Perhaps I should,” Candy said thoughtfully. She leaned forward in her chair. “You don’t suppose…” she trailed off, thinking.
After a moment, Mrs. Pruitt prompted, “What, dear?” Candy let out a breath. She decided that she might as well say what was on her mind. “Well, you don’t suppose there was something… strange going on?”
“Bribery, you mean?”
“Bribery?” That wasn’t what Candy had been thinking, and it surprised her, though she seemed to recall Maggie saying something about bribery also. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes.”
“One of the judges?”
Mrs. Pruitt nodded.
Candy mulled that over. “I would have thought it would have been something a little less… conspiratorial. An error in scoring, perhaps.”
Mrs. Pruitt made a somewhat surprising noise through her nose. “If you believe that, you really are as naive as you look.”
I look naive? Candy thought sadly. And Sapphire thought I was lonely. I really must do something about my image…
“But if what you say is true,” Candy went on, “that someone was being bribed by Sapphire, then which of the judges was it?”
Mrs. Pruitt shrugged. “Probably all of them.”
Candy’s mouth nearly dropped open. “All of them?”
Mrs. Pruitt seemed annoyed by the question. “I wouldn’t put it past that Sapphire Vine woman. You saw her up there. You know what she’s like. She would have stopped at nothing to win that pageant.” Mrs. Pruitt leaned forward in her chair, and said emphatically,
“But how?” Candy asked, clearly taken aback.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, dear. I’m sure you can follow the clues.”
That sparked another thought. “You don’t suppose there’s a link between her death and the fact that she won the Blueberry Queen Pageant, do you?”
“Well,” said Mrs. Pruitt evenly as she refreshed Candy’s cup of tea, “that’s the big question, isn’t it? So, tell me, how is your blueberry farm doing?”
Caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation, Candy answered quickly. “Oh, well, fine, just fine, thank you.”
“You know, my grandfather once owned that property…”
Some time later, with the interview complete, Candy thanked Mrs. Pruitt, who rose and showed her to the door. Hobbins, it appeared, was preoccupied.
As Candy was in the foyer about to leave, Haley Pruitt came dashing down the grand staircase, though she came to an abrupt stop when she saw her grandmother.
“Ah, here’s Haley now,” said Mrs. Pruitt, giving her granddaughter a disapproving look. To Haley, she said, “Candy Holliday stopped by to talk about the pageant, dear.”
“Isn’t it exciting?” Haley asked, crossing to her grandmother’s side. She practically bubbled. “I’m going to be the Blueberry Queen!”
“They’ve contacted you then?” Candy asked.
“We heard from the pageant committee this morning,” Mrs. Pruitt replied smugly. “There will be a short
