For our girls’ night dinner, Grammie and I decided to put together a salad smorgasbord, served out on the back porch. The evening was warm, sultry even, with thunderstorms in the forecast. Hopefully they’d hold off for a couple of hours. Along with the regulars—Madison, Bella, and Sophie—I’d invited Jamaica. After her ordeal the previous night, I sensed she could use time with friends. I must have been right, because she said yes immediately and offered to bring something to share.
We set up a folding table along the wall to hold platters of fresh, local veggies, including lettuce and cucumbers from Grammie’s garden. Protein included chicken, shrimp, eggs, cheeses, and ham. We also added a tray of toppings that included nuts, seeds, olives, pickled vegetables, and dried fruit, with an array of dressings.
“This looks great,” I said, popping an olive into my mouth, which flooded with salty goodness. “I love big salads full of goodies.”
Grammie placed a fork next to a bowl of artichoke hearts. “Me too. It’s an easy way to get your five-a-day,” referring to the advice to eat five helpings of vegetables and fruit each day.
Quincy tried to jump onto the table, lured by the dish of cottage cheese, which he loved. I grabbed him mid-leap. “What’s gotten into you?” I scolded him gently. “You know better.” I put him down and showed him the dish I’d made for him. It included a tiny spoonful of the creamy curds along with his regular food. I took a grilled shrimp and bit off half, then gave him the rest of that too.
“You spoil that cat,” Grammie said with a fond smile. “And so do I.”
Cars crunched up the drive. The ladies had arrived. Sophie and Bella rode together, and Jamaica was with Madison. As usual, everyone had brought a contribution, and while I welcomed bread and wine and dessert, I saw to my dismay that Jamaica was carrying a bowl of brown seaweed.
She noticed me studying the dish and grinned as she placed it on the laden table near the other toppings. “This is kelp salad. You slice it really thin and add vinegar, sugar, peppercorns, and coriander and mustard seeds.”
Madison shot me a glance. “Sounds tasty. I can’t wait to try it.”
“Thanks, Jamaica,” Grammie said. “You didn’t have to bring anything, but we appreciate the addition.” She pulled the clear wrap off the bowl and put a spoon into the seaweed.
Bella opened a bottle of wine while Sophie sliced the crusty bread she’d brought. Madison and I helped Grammie set out stacks of plates and utensils, and Jamaica filled a pitcher with ice water and slices of lemon. Then we lined up to fill our plates, commenting on all the choices. I even took a tiny bit of the seaweed, to be polite. Everyone took a seat around the table, except Sophie, who remained standing.
“Up, up,” she said, holding her wine glass. “We’re going to do a Belgian toast.” We obeyed, and once we were standing, she said, “Santé!”
“Santé!” we echoed, lifting our glasses. Then we all laughed and sat down.
“That toast brings back memories,” Sophie said. At Jamaica’s questioning look, she added, “I went to college in Belgium.”
Jamaica’s mouth dropped open slightly and she nodded. “Now I get it. Did you know Lukas when you were there?” Eyes still on Sophie, she took a big bite of salad.
“We dated for a while,” Sophie said briefly. “I was very surprised when he showed up in Blueberry Cove. We haven’t been in touch for years.”
“He’s a good guy,” Jamaica said. “I’ve learned tons from him already.” She broke into a huge smile. “Plus he’s really, really hot.” The rest of us echoed that sentiment with gusto, even Grammie, who thought he could star in a James Bond movie.
“Sophie’s heart is engaged elsewhere,” Bella said. “So he’s all yours, Jamaica, if you want him.”
Jamaica sat back, a hand to her chest and a stunned expression on her face. “Oh my. Am I that obvious? Maybe I do have a teeny-tiny crush, but no.” Cheeks flushed, she shook her head. “I’m not going to trespass on another woman’s patch.”
“It’s not my patch.” Sophie set her wine glass down. “For a few minutes I thought maybe, I admit, especially after … anyway, we’re just friends.” She picked up her fork and stabbed at her salad. “How did it go with the customer today?”
“Good, really good,” Jamaica said, giving a big sigh. “I took them out to the site and they were very impressed. I don’t think they were able to picture what twenty acres of water looks like until they saw it.”
“Twenty acres?” Grammie buttered a thick slice of bread. “That’s a good-size area. How much seaweed will you get from that?”
Jamaica had a ready answer. “About ten tons an acre, so two hundred tons.” She grimaced. “If no more disasters happen. The filtration looks like it’s working, so fingers crossed, the crop will be okay.”
Bella and Madison hadn’t heard what happened so we told them how someone had contaminated the sprouting seaweed crop and almost ruined it.
“Who would do such a thing?” Bella asked in indignation. “So mean.”
My eyes met Jamaica’s. I was going to let her take the lead on this one. She sighed. “I think it might have been Patrick. He’s so angry with me.” With an unseeing gaze, she shuddered at what must be a horrible memory.
Madison glanced at her with concern. “Don’t talk about it if it’s upsetting. We understand.”
“No, it’s okay,” Jamaica said, eyes still distant as she played with one of her long braids. “I really cared about Patrick. But he’s not the person I thought he was. As soon as he’s opposed in any way, the knives come out.” At our looks of alarm, she added, “Figuratively speaking.”
“It sounds to me like you made a wise decision,” Grammie said. “Selfish men make very poor partners.”
“Yeah, they do,” Jamaica agreed. “And we were business partners too. You know those Seaseme Power Bars? That was my idea.” Her mouth twisted. “But I told him to take the recipe rather than fight with him for it. He’d already called an attorney.”
“That’s not fair,” Madison said in protest. “And no wonder they’re good. You invented them, not Patrick.” She folded her arms with a snort. “I’m never eating another single one.” Her eyes lit. “And I’m giving them bad reviews on social media.”
Jamaica gave her a wan smile. “Please don’t do that, Madison. I appreciate your support but I don’t want to make the situation worse.”
“You’re probably right,” Madison said, settling back with a grumble. “But I’m boycotting them.”
I didn’t have to boycott the bars because a single bite had never passed my lips. “Are you going to make another product, Jamaica?” Judging by how tasty the seaweed salad was—I’d eaten all mine, to my surprise—she was a great cook.
“I might,” she said. “But right now it’s easier for me to sell the whole crop raw. Or dried, in bulk. Patrick had to set up a commercial kitchen to make the bars.” She rubbed her thumb and two fingers together. “Big bucks for the equipment. And the packaging, marketing and so forth.”
“Did Ian call you?” I asked. We’d exchanged some texts today but they were personal in nature rather than work updates. “He said he was going to help you with a security system.”
“He sure did. He gave me parts of an old system his parents replaced so it’s already installed and operational.” Jamaica held up her phone. “I can look at the lab from anywhere.” She brought up the site then passed the phone around. In the video, which had no sound, the tanks were silently bubbling away. All was well down at the lab.
“A baby seaweed monitor,” Grammie quipped as she studied the screen. “How innovative.”
When Jamaica got her phone back, she studied the screen with a fond expression. “You’re right, Anne. They are my babies.”
“Speaking of babies,” I said, “how was your date last night, Madison?” She gave me a light punch to the bicep and I ducked away, laughing.
“It was fine,” she said primly. Then she cracked. “Actually, we had a great time. Anton is an awesome slow dancer, did you know that?” She swayed in her seat, humming, a dreamy expression on her face.
“Eww, no. TMI,” I said. “Seriously, I’m glad things went well. Good news.”
Madison still wore that dreamy look. “Who would have thunk it? He’s been right under my nose for years.” We’d all grown up together, although Anton was a couple of years older than us.
“You’re seeing him in a whole new way, dear,” Grammie said. She set her fork down with a decisive click. “Who’s ready for dessert?”
Sophie had brought a raspberry crisp made with local berries and rich vanilla ice cream to top the warm dessert. We dug into big bowls of the treat, making comments about how we’d saved calories by having salad for dinner. Not really.
“Lukas was supposed to go in and talk to Anton today,” I said to Madison while the rest of the table was listening to Bella tell a funny story about her ex-husband. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” The threatened storms had moved in and thunder grumbled in the distance.
“You mean did we talk police business on our date?” Madison gave me a smirk. “Actually we did, a little. I got your text with the news so I asked him. But his lips were sealed.”
I allowed a spoonful of raspberries and ice cream to linger on my tongue. “I wonder if Patrick said something incriminating. Remember Theo’s photo of Patrick’s boat moored near the cliffs? I’m sure Anton followed up about it.”
“Yeah, and maybe Patrick redirected suspicion onto Lukas.” Madison gnawed on her bottom lip. “I wonder if I can find out.”
I laughed. “You mean use your wiles to get him to spill? I can see your relationship with the chief is going to come in handy,” I joked.
Madison gave me a satisfied smile. “I could do that, couldn’t I?” She thought about it for a moment then shook her head. “Unfortunately I wouldn’t feel right about it. I guess lessons from my parents are too ingrained.”
“Darn.” I snapped my fingers, pretending to be disappointed. But really, joking aside, I didn’t expect anything less. I didn’t want Anton to jeopardize his position or a case because we pressured him. Or in Madison’s case, seduced him into it.
Bella called to me across the table. “Are you ready for the fashion show tomorrow night?”
I had a flash of panic. I’d forgotten all about the event. “I think so,” I replied, sounding anything but certain. “What do I have to do?”
“Not much,” Bella said to my relief. “Why don’t we meet for breakfast tomorrow around eight and go over everything? The other judges have done this before so they’re all set.”
“There’s another blueberry pancake breakfast tomorrow,” Grammie said. “I was thinking of going to that myself. It’s benefiting the lighthouse museum project.”
I thought about my schedule. If we met at the suggested time, I could easily eat breakfast at the park and still be at the store by nine. “I’ll be there, for sure.” I might even go downtown a little early and grab the folder of lobster bib entries, which were up to a dozen. Not a bad showing for the first year of an event.
Dessert over, everyone got up and started milling around, helping clean up before preparing to leave. The rumbles of thunder were closer now, accompanied by flashes of heat lightning. The storm would soon be upon us.
Jamaica slid into Madison’s empty chair beside me. “Thanks for including me, Iris. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.” She framed her face with her hands, like blinders. “I’ve had tunnel vision—work, work, work.”
“That’s the way it is when you start a business,” I said. “Ask me how I know.” We laughed then I said, “I’m glad you could come. We’ll hang out again soon, okay?”
“I’d like that,” she said, then looked around, ready to get up. “I really should go help the others.”
“Just a sec,” I said. “I want to talk to you about something.” When she turned attentive eyes on me, I hesitated, hoping I wouldn’t blow up our brand-new friendship. “I think the police still regard Lukas as the prime suspect in Hailey’s death.”
She reared back, her mouth hanging open. “That’s crazy. No way. Lukas wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I agree, it’s ludicrous,” I said. “Sophie thinks so too, and she’s known him a long time.” I paused. “So we’ve been wondering who it really was. And to that end, we’re trying to build a better picture of Hailey’s last days.”
Jamaica’s gaze narrowed. “You’re investigating? Like private eyes or something?”
“Or something,” I said. “We’re certainly not trained detectives. But we notice stuff and we know people. And we don’t take one piece of evidence and run with it.”
“Like that jacket.” Her tone was musing. “That was downright weird. As if someone was trying to pin the murder on Lukas.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I think so too. So.” I took a deep breath. “How well did Patrick and Hailey know each other?” I put up a hasty hand. “I’m not accusing him of anything. But his boat was seen moored near the cliffs the morning she died.” As she continued to stare at me, I stumbled on. “I thought maybe they’d been talking, maybe she was helping him with his project.” I remembered something. “Oh, and she had one of his energy bar wrappers in her pack that morning.”
“So you think he was delivering energy bars to her at the cliffs?” Jamaica’s voice held a note of mockery. But then a pensive expression fell over her features. “She irritated him, I know that much. Oh, he didn’t say no when she offered to hawk those bars around. He thought she was a good advertisement for them, being so cute and all.” She laced her long fingers together and stretched them back and forth as she spoke. “And she was smart as a whip too. Got to give her that.”
“She must have been,” I said. “I’m sure there was a lot of competition for the two teaching assistant slots.” At the very least, according to Theo, Hailey had been savvy about scheming her way to the top. Why depend on natural intelligence when you could seal the deal by cheating?
Jamaica gave a small groan. “Sorry,” she said when I looked at her. “I still can’t believe it. The whole thing is so awful, like a nightmare. It doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed, although I was sure the killer believed what he or she had done was perfectly logical. Hailey was either a threat or had done something the killer thought deserved a death sentence.
“I was so shocked when I found out,” Jamaica said. “At first I thought Theo was joking.” Her mouth turned down. “But he sure wasn’t.”
I brought the conversation back to Patrick. “Patrick was at Shorehaven later that morning, meeting with Ruben.” I hadn’t seen Jamaica at Eleanor’s, but maybe she had come and gone by the time I got there.
Jamaica gave an irritated snort. “Figures. I should have been there too. But I was at home, in my apartment. Drinking coffee and working on my business plan.”
So Jamaica hadn’t been near the cliffs in her boat that morning, like Patrick had told me after the lab tour. That weasel. Not only had he thrown Theo under the bus during that conversation, he had tried to imply that Jamaica was involved with Hailey’s death. Or might have seen something important.
“Is that why the police came to the lab yesterday?” Jamaica asked. “Someone saw Patrick’s boat moored at the cliffs?”
“I’m pretty sure.” While I didn’t have the inside track on this one, it made sense that Anton had talked to Patrick about Theo’s photograph after I tipped him off. Then the next thing you know, Lukas got a call to come in. I leaned forward, feeling the need to warn her. “Be careful, okay? But if you keep your eyes open, listen to people, maybe you’ll learn something important. The sooner we find out who killed Hailey, the better.”
She nodded solemnly. “I’ll do my best.”
Everyone cleared out soon after, except Madison, who wanted to hang for a while, so Jamaica caught a ride home with Sophie. Her downtown apartment was near Sophie’s. Bella owned a home on one of the side streets leading up from the harbor.
“Anyone want tea?” Grammie asked us, her hand on the kettle. “I have a nice herbal blend that’s decaf.”
“Sounds good,” Madison said. She was admiring the small aprons Grammie had stitched, which lay over the back of a dining room chair. She fluffed the skirt of the smallest one. “This is adorable. Did I tell you Tyler and Amy are having a girl?” Madison’s brother Tyler had married physician’s assistant Amy last April.
“No, you didn’t. Congrats to them.” I was genuinely happy for the newlyweds, who were wonderful—like everyone in Madison’s family. Sliding onto a stool at the kitchen island, I picked up my phone and checked my e-mail.
Outside, the wind whipped up, another sign that a storm was upon on. Thunder rolled like giants bowling in the sky, a favorite analogy when we were kids.
“Can you make me one of these aprons in a baby size?” Madison asked Grammie.
“I sure can,” Grammie said. “That would be so cute.” She turned to me. “Iris, we have another order already.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, scanning my inbox. To my delight, I had a response from the site where I’d found the Lapland passenger lists. I quickly opened it, only to groan with disappointment. “They don’t have the right passenger list for the Lapland. I hope we’re not at a dead end.” If we couldn’t prove when Claudia arrived in the United States, we couldn’t clear her as a suspect in her father’s murder.
Grammie, pulling mugs out of the cupboard, paused. “I have an idea where to look. Hold on and I’ll tell you about it after I make the tea. Go get your laptop, Iris.”
After she filled the mugs with steaming water and placed them in front of us, she said, “A friend of mine was telling me the other day that she’d found her great-grandparents in the Ellis Island records.”
“Ellis Island is near New York City, right?” Madison dunked her teabag up and down, using the string.
“Yes, out in the harbor,” Grammie said, adding a little honey to her tea. “Many immigrants went through there to register. They also got medical checkups. There’s a museum there now, I understand.”
I already had the site up. “I just put Claudia’s name in. Fingers crossed.” I took a sip of tea while the results loaded. Come on, come on.…
The lights flickered briefly. We often lost electricity during storms out here on the fringe of town. Thunder boomed right overhead.
“Oh no. This couldn’t happen at a worse time.” I peered at the screen, grateful I had a battery in the laptop. But I had to wait to get online again until after the modem reconnected. I quickly hit REFRESH and the screen loaded, revealing one entry. A Claudia de Witte from Antwerp arrived in 1932, on the Lapland. But had it sailed before her father was murdered in Belgium?
“I found her!” I cried out. Madison and Grammie abandoned their tea and came around to stand behind my shoulder. With shaking fingers, I clicked on the entry for more information.
The voyage dates confirmed that Eleanor’s mother had been on the ship when her father died. “Yes!” I shouted. “Claudia is innocent.”