Elsie strode forward with a plate in her hand. "Nothing too special, just an apple cinnamon muffin. I wanted the display tray to be symmetrical and this one was extra."
"Well, hooray for symmetry." I took the plate. "I think it might have to be dinner. I went to lunch with Marty Tate, and the two of us finished off a basket of cornbread that could have fed an entire fire station filled with hungry firemen."
Elsie hopped on the stool. "Did you just say you had lunch with Marty Tate? Lighthouse Marty?" Her forehead bunched with disbelief.
"Marty is helping me with the Hawksworth investigation. It turns out his mother, Elizabeth, was friends with Jane Price."
Elsie blinked at me. "And that's good because . . ."
"That's right. I guess I've never filled you in on the thread I'm following in the murder case. Jane Price was Mayor Price's daughter from a first marriage."
Elsie nearly slipped off the stool. "Harlan Price was married before and had a daughter?"
I put my hands on my hips. "Elsie, have you been sipping that coffee liqueur again? How could Jane Price be both Harlan's daughter and friends with Elizabeth Tate? Different centuries, remember?"
She waved it off. "Right. Sorry. Guess I'm tired. I need to go for a good long run."
I laughed. "Not many people I know follow the words 'I'm tired' with 'I need to go for a long run'."
"They should. There would be a lot less tired, cranky people in the world. Speaking of murders, what is happening? I heard there was a second victim down at the marina. I'll bet that handsome detective of yours is busy."
"He must be. I haven't heard from him all day. I'm going to drop by the station after I close up to see if he needs me to bring him dinner. Have you talked to Kate at all?"
"She never came into the bakery today, and I rarely have occasion to go into her shop. Her little sidewalk sale seemed to be doing well." Elsie reached down and tied her shoe. "I met the photographer today," she muttered as she was leaned over.
"Did you?" I asked, suddenly intrigued. "I thought she had left town already."
"She came in around lunchtime and bought a cheese filled croissant. She was carrying her camera bag, so I asked her if she was through taking pictures here in Port Danby. She said she was finished with the lighthouse but decided to stick around for one more shot of the sunset on the beach. She mentioned something about fog ruining the last sunset. She plans to move to the next coastal town in the morning." With that, she jumped down from the stool. "Speaking of sunset, I need to go on my run before it gets too dark. Les and I exchanged sibling promises to each other. He is going to eat vegetables and grain three nights a week, no meat, no cheese, no beer, and I promised not to go running after dark."
I walked her to the door. "That's nice. It's good that you two are looking after each other."
"Yep, with Hank all the way in Australia for the next two months and Britney gone to Europe, it's nice to know my brother is keeping an eye on me. Or at least I let him think that, even though it's really the other way around."
I opened the door for her. "Whatever direction it's coming from, it's nice." She was just about to leave when a question popped into my head. Not really sure the purpose for it, but my intuition just nudged it out. "By the way, when Heather, the photographer, came into the bakery, you said she was carrying her camera bag. Was she wearing her camera around her neck?"
Elsie rolled her eyes up in thought. "Yes, I think it was around her neck."
"Interesting," I said. "Well, thanks for the cinnamon muffin. Have a good run. In fact, run a few miles for me, would ya?"
She chuckled on her way out. "If I could do that, I would. I could make a big fortune running for people."
I was still laughing as I closed the shop door.