Shadows on a Cape Cod Wedding (14 page)

The Sea Serpent.
Tipped-in lithograph (from an oil painting) by American artist N.C. Wyeth (1882-1945) for Kenneth Roberts’s
Trending
Into Maine
, 1938. Wyeth and Roberts both had homes in Maine and were close friends. Old tales say sea serpents were occasionally seen off the coast of Maine, most notably near the Isles of Shoals in 1820 and near Arundel in 1830. The immense serpent illustrated is rising out of the ocean; its head is as high as the sails on the vessel next to it. 5.5 x 7.75 inches. Price: $50.

Gussie smiled when
Will and Maggie both showed up at Aunt Augusta’s Attic the next morning.

“How’s the bride doing?” asked Will, bending down to give Gussie a hug.

“Glad to see you made it here safely,” said Gussie. “You’re looking well rested this morning, Maggie.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” said Maggie, looking from one of them to the other. “Gussie, you didn’t even hint you knew Will was driving down a day early.”

“Hey, you’re not the only one whose telephone is connected to the world,” replied Gussie. “Will and I talk once in a while, too. And it was a surprise! Will, before I forget: Jim and I absolutely love the bedwarmer. Not, of course, that we would need such an item.”

“Decorative use only, my dear woman, of course,” said Will, with a twinkle. “Although if we lose power Friday night…”

“Gussie! Have you heard about the hurricane?” Maggie said.

“Jim called and told me last night. I can’t believe we’ve been so involved we didn’t know.” She shook her head. “He’s going to try to pick up enough plywood today for the shop windows.” They all looked at the wide store-front windows she and Maggie’d admired a few days before. “We’ll put off decorating them until after the storm. I can do them with Ben’s help after you’ve gone. Why risk having anything damaged? We’ll concentrate on the rest of the store today. Will, can you help, too?”

“That’s what I’m here for. Do you need anything done at any of your houses before the storm? I can help Jim with the plywood on the shop windows, too.”

“The house I just moved out of is fine. There’s nothing to move inside, and no large windows to cover. Jim’s moving the few pieces of outdoor furniture at his house into his barn this morning. I’m a little worried about our new place, though. It’s near the beach, and since it
is
new, we haven’t seen it through any storms yet. We don’t know where weaknesses might be in the roof or around the foundation. And there are picture windows overlooking the Bay.”

“I assume they’re the strongest glass you could buy,” said Maggie.

“Double-paned and insulated and all of that,” agreed Gussie. “It
is
New England, and we live here year ’round. But in a hurricane all bets are off. I’m thinking we should cover them before the storm.”

“I haven’t seen your house, but if it’s that close to the Bay, that sounds like a good idea. The last I heard Tasha was a Category Three, with winds over a hundred and ten miles per hour,” said Will. “Of course, she could weaken before she gets to the Cape. And you’re on the northern side of the Cape, not the southern. The damage should be worse there.”

“When Hurricane Carol hit the Cape in 1953 the storm surge on the south drove salt water inland as far as Route 6. Hundreds of homes were flooded, and thousands of trees were killed. I remember seeing all the dead, white trees, on the Cape when I was a little girl. My father used to call them ghost trees, and talk about how frightening the storm had been. A lot of old-timers still remember. The spire of the Old North Church in Boston was blown down in Hurricane Carol, too. We don’t get many bad hurricanes hitting up this far. It’s like Maine. But once in a while we get surprised. And I don’t want to take a chance with our new home.” She picked up her phone. “I’ll make sure Jim gets enough plywood for those windows.”

While she was talking with Jim, Maggie and Will moved empty cartons from the front room into the back and folded them.

“Look around, Will. This room is going to be the new Shadows Antique Print Gallery,” Maggie said, proudly.

“What?”

“Gussie’s offered it to me for my prints,” she explained. “I’ve already measured it. I’m going to hang framed prints on the walls, and put three or four of those folding stands I have for large prints on the floor over here, below the windows.” She showed him. “I’ll bring four of my show tables up for the center of the room, and put stands on them for smaller groups of prints.” She turned to look at him. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s great you’ll have a place to sell your prints that’s closer to Maine,” he said. “If it works, maybe it’ll mean you won’t have to do as many shows. And you’ll have to come to the Cape to replenish and change your inventory. This would be a great place for us to meet, too.” He smiled and gave her a hug. “I can think of a number of reasons why your having your prints in Winslow is a good idea.”

Maggie’s phone rang. “Excuse me!” she said, untwining herself from Will’s arms. “Yes, Diana? No! No.” Maggie’s face paled. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

“What is it?” Will asked, as Maggie almost ran back to the front room, pulling him with her.

“Gussie, it’s awful. You won’t believe it. Diana just called.” She took a deep breath. “Cordelia’s been shot. She’s dead.”

Gussie stopped arranging toys and stared at her. “When? What happened? Oh, Maggie, I can’t believe it! Who would hurt Cordelia?”

“Who’s Cordelia?” said Will, looking from one of the women to the other.

“Diana slept in this morning. When she came downstairs she didn’t see Cordelia in the house. She thought she’d gone for a walk. When Cordelia still hadn’t come home after she’d had breakfast ­Diana decided to see if she was on the beach. That’s where she found her.”

“Like Dan.”

“I don’t think she’d been in the water. She didn’t say that. She just said she was on the beach.”

“She’s called Ike?” Gussie checked.

“He’s already there. I told her I’d come, too.”

“Go, then. My scooter’s no use on the sand, and Jim expects me to be here. You and Will go. She needs someone with her.” Gussie shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Why? I still can’t imagine a possible reason.”

Will held up his keys. “I assume we’re going somewhere?”

“I’ll explain along the way,” said Maggie. “I haven’t told you every­thing that’s been happening in Winslow.”

Will sighed as he followed her out the door. “My dear lady, when do you ever?”

Medical Plants.
One of a series of illustrations of plants grown for medicinal use, from
The Practical Home Physician
, 1883. This page illustrates Dill (to increase breast milk and cure colic), Peppermint (for intestinal gas), Spurge-Laurel (a poison), and Black Bryony (for constipation). 6 x 9 inches. $35.

Maggie and Will
had to park several houses down Apple Orchard Lane. The driveway and street were filled by two police cars, an ambulance, and a van marked CRIME SCENE UNIT.

Not to speak of several neighbors, whose cars (and one bicycle) were driving slowly through the area, and one WBZ-TV Boston van that must have been in the area, since it had reached the scene so quickly.

Maggie and Will tried to avoid them all.

The first barrier they ran into was a patrolman Maggie hadn’t seen before. “Sorry, folks. This is a crime scene. No one’s admitted. No sightseers. Go home. Or at least stay on the street.”

“I’m Maggie Summer. Diana Hopkins called me. I’m a close friend of the family. That poor girl has no one!” Maggie chattered. “Chief Irons knows who I am.”

The cop hesitated and pulled out his phone. “Chief, woman name of Maggie Summer is out front. Says Ms Hopkins called her. What do you want me to do with her?” Pause. “Okay.” He turned to Maggie. “You stay here. The chief’s going to send someone out for you. He says the Hopkins girl’s really upset; maybe your being here will calm her down.” He looked at Will. “I don’t know about you, sir.”

“He’s with me,” said Maggie.

The patrolman shrugged.

A few minutes later another policeman came out of the house and beckoned to Maggie. She took Will’s hand, and pulled him with her.

“Who’s this?” asked the policeman.

“My friend Will,” said Maggie. “I’m sure the chief will say it’s all right.”

The patrolman didn’t look convinced, but let the two of them follow him.

Diana was standing at the side of the house, out of view of the street. Her face was pale, and she was clasping a glass of water as though she would never let it go.

She looked up as Maggie came around the corner. “Maggie!”

With that word the tears she’d been holding back began flowing. Maggie reached out and took the glass from her shaking hands and handed it to Will. “I’m so sorry, Diana.”

She put her arm around the girl and let her sob.

Finally Diana stood back. She looked questioningly at Will.

“This is my friend from Maine, Will Brewer.”

“Right. Your guy. I remember. I just didn’t want him to be a plain­clothes cop or something,” Diana said. “Maggie, you’ve got to help me. The police won’t let me into the house. They keep saying it’s a crime scene. I called 911 and you, but now they’ve even taken my cell phone away.” She began to sob again.

Maggie dug in her bag and handed the girl some Kleenex.

Diana blew her nose. “It’s all horrible. I don’t know what to do. I should never have come here. I should have stayed in Colorado.”

“This isn’t your fault,” said Maggie, hoping she was telling the truth. Could Diana’s arrival have triggered events that ended with the deaths of two people? But how?

“Even if it had nothing to do with me, I wouldn’t have known about it. I was beginning to cope with Dad’s death. I’d almost finished getting the estate settled. I thought I’d take a break. Take a vacation. See the country a little. And instead…” Diana started sobbing again.

Will was looking down the slight hill at the scrub pines and grasses that were above the beach where, Maggie assumed, Cordelia’s body was. Several uniformed police officers were walking around, looking at the ground. Looking for evidence, Maggie assumed. Of what? Of whom? So far she hadn’t seen Ike Irons, but he must be here, too. These must be state police. Ike had said he had a small staff, and the place was full of cops.

“What happened, Diana?” said Maggie. “What did you tell the police?”

“What I said on the phone,” she said. “I got up, and went down to get coffee. Cordelia wasn’t there. I checked and she wasn’t in her room, so I assumed she’d gone for a walk on the beach. She likes to do that in the morning. So I drank my coffee and decided to join her. Have you ever been in back of our house?”

Maggie shook her head.

“There’s the yard, just below the porch, where there are a few bushes, but not too many, because the land is pretty sandy.” Diana pointed. “Cordelia has a small herb garden there in a sort of deep box. This time of year there’s nothing left except some mint and parsley and dill. Beyond that there’s a narrow stone path that leads to the beach. I found her near the end of the path, in the beach grass.” Diana’s tears were still flowing, but she wasn’t sobbing. “It was awful. She was just lying there. I knew she was dead, right away.”

“Did she have any wounds?”

“There was blood. She was lying on her face. I think she’d been shot in the back of her head. There was a…hole.”

“The back!”

“It looked as though she’d been coming back toward the house, from the beach, and someone’d shot her. She fell so one of her feet was on the path and the rest of her was in the grass.” Diana was silent. “It was so peaceful down on the beach. I stood there for a moment, right over her. I could see the water, and the beach. The gulls were crying, that mournful way they do, and the waves were coming in. I felt like I was in a movie; as though if I backed up and went back to the house and started the morning again it would all be different.”

Maggie put her hand out on Diana’s arm. “But it wasn’t.”

“No. It wasn’t. All I want is to be away from this place. Horrible things happen here, Maggie.”

Maggie was trying to think of something suitably comforting to say when Jim came striding purposefully down the hill in their direction.

“Diana, I’m so sorry. Gussie called to tell me,” he said, nodding at Maggie and Will, but focusing on Diana. “Have you talked to the police?”

“I showed them where I found Cordelia’s body. That’s all. I can’t even get my backpack or clothes or telephone,” said Diana, clearly ready to begin sobbing again. “Tell them I
need
my backpack!”

“Remember: I’m your lawyer. I’ll take over from here. Don’t talk to any of the police from now on. Let me do that,” Jim said firmly. “I’ll see what I can do about your backpack.”

“Good morning, Jim,” said Ike Irons, joining them. “We seem to be running into each other a lot this week.”

“I heard my client was having a difficult morning and came to join her,” said Jim. “I understand you have some personal things she’ll need.”

“We’ll need to keep this whole property clear for our investigation,” said the chief. “I was about to ask Ms. Summer and that friend of hers,” he gestured toward Will, who was being ushered up the hill toward the road by another policeman, “to leave. I’d like to talk to Miss Hopkins. Since she was the person closest to the deceased, and she found the body, she’s a person of interest. I have some questions for her.”

“Which she won’t be answering right now, when she’s in such distress, and won’t be answering at all unless I’m with her,” answered Jim. “In fact, Ms. Hopkins and I were about to leave. When you need to speak with her, you know how to contact me, and I’ll make sure she’s available. We realize you need to make the house and grounds a crime scene for now, but that means she can’t have access to her personal belongings. Could she take her backpack and telephone with her, Ike? With the storm coming, I’d guess you want to get this crime scene, especially the grounds, wrapped up as soon as possible. I’ll guarantee Ms. Hopkins won’t be leaving town in the next couple of days.”

“I can’t let her have any of her belongings, Jim. And those guarantees better be good.” Ike said, turning toward Diana. “We’ve already searched Ms. Hopkins’ backpack. We found her gun.”

Both Jim and Maggie turned and looked at Diana.

“That’s my property! It was for protection! Cordelia gave it to me after Dad was killed,” said Diana. “You have no right to go through my things.”

“Ah, but we do, you see. The crime lab will know whether the gun was fired recently, and whether it was the one that killed your cousin. Or your father. And you need a license to carry a handgun in Massachusetts. We could hold you right now, before we get the results of any tests back.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Diana wailed. “Why would I shoot Cordelia?”

“That’s one of the things we have to figure out,” said Ike.

“Am I being arrested?” said Diana.

“Shush,” said Jim. “Don’t say anything more.”

“No, you’re not being arrested. Not yet,” said Ike. “But I want to talk with you later. Jim, I’m holding you responsible for keeping an eye on her in the meantime.” He looked back at Diana. “Don’t think of leaving. You can’t get far in any case. Last I heard the governor had closed the bridges and directed the island ferries to schedule their last runs before the storm. Anyone who’s on the Cape now is going to be here when Hurricane Tasha arrives.”

Ike walked down toward the beach.

“Why in hell didn’t you tell me you had a gun?” said Jim to Diana. “Come with me. You and I have to talk. Fast. Before the chief wants to see you.”

Diana glanced back at Maggie, and then followed Jim up the hill to his car.