Clam Wake (13 page)

“I guess I'd better go,” Judith said, hurrying after her cousin while calling out farewells to the Glover women. She caught up with Renie on the road. “You're horrid! Did you really give them Valium?”

“Hardly. I had them play Log, like Bill did with our kids on long car trips. It worked, at least for some sixty miles of peace and—”

“Stop!” Judith poked Renie. “What did you really do to those boys?”

“I just told you. They did what our kids did when they played Log—they went to sleep. I couldn't stand the racket that awful Wobble thing made. Just to make sure, I took out the batteries.” She winced. “Damn. They're still in my pocket. Oh, well.”

Judith shook her head. “Did you listen in on our conversation?” she asked as they headed back up the hill.

“Yes, Edna's a piece of work. She still embroiders. One of those pillows was dated Christmas of this last year. She's higher than a kite, too, in my opinion. I haven't seen so many antidepressants since I got a little too rambunctious at our HMO's pharmacy and vaulted over the counter to get my allergy pills.”

“Really?” Judith felt stupid for not suspecting Edna might be taking more than a sleeping pill or two. “They were in the kitchen?”

Renie nodded. “I wanted to check the bathroom, but I was afraid I'd get caught. I'll bet Edna's cranked up most of the time. I doubt they ever have company. There's no room for guests.”

“I agree,” Judith said. “Katie talked about how many friends her dad had made in the last year or so. She didn't mention her mother.”

“True,” Renie agreed, stopping by the Webers' mailbox next to the road. “I'll grab the paper, you get the mail.”

“Mostly junk,” Judith murmured, flipping through the small stack. “No delivery yet today. The flag's still up. Or do I mean down?”

“No idea,” Renie said, starting up to the deck. “Too rural for me. I haven't seen a postal van yet, though. Do you want to drive into Langton and have lunch?”

“Lunch?” Judith checked her watch. “It's not yet eleven.”

“We could shop and then eat,” Renie said. “I'm getting hungry.”

“Oh . . . why not? It's always kind of fun to browse the shops.”

The cousins reached the front door. Judith paused to look out across the Sound. “It'd be nice if the clouds would lift enough so we could see the mountains over on the Peninsula.”

“I think they're still there,” Renie said. “You do have the padlock keys, right?”

“Yes.” Judith dug them out of her pocket. “Having this thing outside must make us look like a couple of alarmists.”

“Well? Unless a random nut really did get loose, there
is
a murderer somewhere in the vicinity. I realize that's not a new concept for us, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious.”

“I know,” Judith said as they went inside. “I just hate to advertise the fact.” She set the mail down on the kitchen counter. “Circulars, real estate come-ons, travel brochures, a senior-citizen flyer, AARP insurance offers, the Public Utility District bill—I'd better save that one.” She set the envelope aside. “More senior activities. That's it.”

“Shall we head on out?” Renie asked.

Judith hesitated. “Let's wait until it's closer to noon. You'll want to eat as soon as we get there and I'm not hungry.”

Renie made a face. “Okay. I'll read the newspaper. I'm glad the Webers still get a real paper from a real city.”

“They like keeping up with the city's news,” Judith said, gazing out the front window. “It's clearing off. I can see almost across the Sound. Several people are on the beach and two—no—three more are walking along the roads. I guess these folks go outside when the weather's decent. Maybe I'll take a little stroll to work off my breakfast.”

Before Renie could respond, a phone rang. “Is that my cell or yours?” Judith asked.

“Not my ring,” Renie replied, her eyes glued to the
Times'
front page. Judith went to the kitchen counter and reached into her purse to dig out her cell.

“It's three in the morning and I can't sleep,” Joe announced. “The seventeen-hour time change has thrown Bill and me for a loop. Are you really hang gliding over Mount Woodchuck? That's what your gruesome mother told me. Where are you?”

“Whoopee Island,” Judith said a little breathlessly. She was surprised at how thrilled she was to hear her husband's voice. “We're house-sitting for Auntie Vance and Uncle Vince. They're in Beatrice, helping Aunt Ellen and Uncle Win. She had shoulder surgery. Except for not sleeping, are you having fun?”

“We really are,” Joe said. “It's light tackle season as you may recall, which means we can't start fishing until later in the afternoon. We've had some action off the jetty, but tomorrow—that's Monday here—we'll spend two nights at sea, probably around Lizard Island.”

Judith grimaced. “That sounds a little creepy.”

Joe chuckled. “Not even close. It's beautiful around here. We swim in the mornings and we'll try snorkeling today. The people are great, the food's terrific, the weather's balmy. It's all worth losing a little sleep. What are you two doing on The Rock?”

Judith's initial euphoria had waned. “Well . . . we've met a lot of people. We'll have lunch in Langton, maybe at the place above the variety store. Then we'll browse the shops that aren't closed during the winter.”

Joe chuckled again. “That sounds . . . good. Too bad you can't find a dead body. As I recall from visiting up there, some of the residents looked as if they were already dead.”

“They aren't
all
old,” Judith asserted. “Renie and I spent time this morning with small children.”

“What happened? Did their parents take a wrong turn?”

Judith started to say something waspish, but didn't want to quarrel from half a world away. “Never mind,” she said. “I take it Bill's enjoying himself, too?”

“What's not to enjoy?” Joe retorted. “Bill's sorry Oscar isn't here, though I guess the little guy gets seasick. It's probably just as well he stayed home.”

That comment almost sent Judith over the edge. If Joe had bought into the Oscar mythology, maybe he should stay on Lizard Island. “I'd better let you go,” she said,
before I feel like locking you out of the house when you get back
. “You should get to sleep so you'll feel fresh when you and Bill go snorkeling tomorrow.”

“That's today here,” Joe reminded her. “But you're right. Tell Renie Bill says hi. Stay safe.” He rang off.

Renie looked up from the newspaper. “They're having a wonderful time,” she stated. “I can tell by the sour look on your face. Spare me. I don't want to hear about it. It'd make me even madder than you are.”

“I don't want to repeat it,” Judith countered. “I'll walk it off. You want to come along?”

Renie shook her head. “I'm not that fond of walking in general. You get rid of your snit while
I
finish reading the news.”

“Fine.” Judith put on her jacket. “Lock up—but don't lock me out.”

“Use a code word so I know it's you,” Renie said, still hiding behind the
Times
. “Oscar will do.”

Judith didn't say anything before going outside. A freighter was halfway across the Sound, heading north. She'd walked more than halfway to the beach steps when she saw a frail, fair-haired woman carrying a canvas bag coming up the hill toward her. “Hi,” she called to the stranger. “How are you this morning?”

The woman stopped some twenty feet away, eyeing Judith suspiciously. “
Who
are you this morning?” She clasped the bag to her breast. Then she screamed and ran back down the hill.

J
udith stood still, her dark eyes following the woman's frantic path. She veered right onto the last road before the beach, disappearing by a drab-green one-story house. It was pointless to follow her, especially if she was seeking sanctuary at her home. All of the half-dozen modest dwellings just above the beach had been built early on in the development of Obsession Shores.

By the time Judith reached the steps leading to the beach, she could see all the way across the water to the mountains on the mainland. Farther south, a ferry glided from the Peninsula to the landing just north of the city. As seagulls cried and swooped above the great swath of wet, sandy beach, Heraldsgate Hill seemed very far away. Judith involuntarily shivered.

“Well, well!” a male voice called out, making her jump. “If it isn't the house-sitter. Looking for another dead body?”

Trying to regain her composure, Judith turned around to attempt a smile for Brose Bennett. “Hi,” she said. “I'd rather not do that again.”
At least not here
. “Were you at the meeting last night?”

Brose nodded. “Last to come, first to go. Bunch of bull crap. Fou-fou stayed home. She hates meetings. Don't blame her. You going down to the beach? The tide'll be all the way out in another hour. You never know what might wash up next.” He chuckled.

“I think I'll stay up here,” Judith said. “I understand you found a rare coin a few weeks ago. Have you had it checked out by a collector?”

Brose shook his head. “There's an old guy in Langton who knows something about old coins, but I'll take it into the city, where I can get a real expert. You know—somebody who's more up-to-date and in touch with big-time collectors.”

“Did you use a metal detector?” Judith asked, noting that a couple of children were walking with an adult near the boathouse.

“Nope, but I'm getting me one,” Brose said, brushing at the graying brown hair that was blowing in disarray. A breeze had suddenly come down from the north. “I ordered it from the Internet. It should be here today or Monday.”

“So you just spotted the coin lying on the beach?” Judith asked.

“Not quite.” Brose tugged at the collar of his all-weather jacket. “I was looking for clam holes. Saw a rock that looked kind of interesting—I like to collect 'em to put around the garden. When I picked it up, there was the coin, plain as day. Kind of worn around the edges, though.”

“Do you think someone dropped it?” Judith asked, then quickly added, “Recently, I mean.”

Brose's expression was droll. “You think somebody was wandering around and just sorta dropped a coin like that? I figure it was washed up from someplace else or maybe worked its way up through the sand over the years. Earthquakes, maybe. They move the ground, you know.”

“So they do,” Judith said dubiously—and changed the subject. “What's going to happen with the proposed sewer project?”

Brose shrugged. “Who knows? The only one who can really decide is ol' Quimby.” His long face hardened. “Too bad he didn't get knocked off instead of poor Ern.”

“Are you saying a vote wouldn't change anything?” Judith asked.

“Only if it went Quimby's way.” Brose looked down at the beach. “Hey—do you think some of those folks are looking for old coins? Maybe I started a fad.”

Judith followed his gaze. Three people were bent down not far from the boathouse. “Maybe. But they could be clam digging.”

“No buckets,” he noted.

“You're right. Can you tell who it is?”

“Well . . .” Brose craned his neck and squinted his eyes. “Not till somebody stands up.” He paused. “Ah! It's the Johnsons, Charles and May. Old-timers here. Surprised they can still bend.” He pointed to the drab-green house behind Judith. “That's their place.”

“They were sitting in our row last night,” Judith remarked. “They moved fairly fast when the meeting was over.”

“Probably scared they'd get trampled.” Brose took another look at the beach, where the third person in the group had stood up. “That's Mel Friedman. You were sitting by him and his wife, right?”

“Yes,” Judith said. “I'd met them on an earlier visit here. Maybe I'll go join him and the Johnsons.”

Brose nodded. “See if they were looking for more old coins. See ya later.” He started up the hill.

Just as Judith reached the steps, she saw Mel coming away from the Johnsons and heading toward her. She decided to wait. The wind was blowing harder, but at least it was dispelling the clouds.

“Hey,” Mel called as he moved a bit faster. “You coming down?”

Judith shook her head. “It looks like you're coming up.”

“I am,” he said with a grin as he started up the steps. “I'm not in the mood for buried treasure.”

Judith didn't speak until Mel joined her. “Is that really what you were looking for?”

“No,” Mel replied, “but the Johnsons were. They swear that an English ship was wrecked around here a couple of hundred years ago. I've never heard of that, but it could be true. Both Sarah and I are from Southern California. We didn't move up this way until after we were married and I finished dental school at the University while she got her nursing degree.”

“How long have you lived here, Mel?” Judith asked as they moved away from the steps.

“Full-time?” Mel's high forehead creased. “Almost three years. But we bought in over twenty years ago.” He gestured to his right. “That gabled cottage is our house. Do you want to step in for a cup of coffee and say hi to Sarah?”

Judith wanted to say yes, but she figured Renie was getting anxious to leave for Langton. “Could I bring my cousin later today? I left her in charge of our aunt and uncle's house. She may be dismantling it.”

Mel laughed. “Sure. Come down anytime, okay? We'll have cocktails instead of coffee later on.”

Judith figured that if she and Renie had drinks with the Friedmans and then with the Sedgewicks, they might both be hammered by the time Jane served dinner. But she didn't want to refuse. “That sounds fine. See you then. Tell Sarah I'm looking forward to the visit.”