LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter 4

      The drive to the Nantucket Field Station gave me time to reflect on Agnes’s story. Although most of the connections between my skeleton and her family’s history were circumstantial, there was something about the similarity between the characters that held my interest. Lost in thought, I pulled into the station’s dune road, my Beetle fighting mightily across the sand, and parked when I didn’t think the car could make it any farther. I took off my sneakers and threw them in the back seat. I rolled up my jeans for the trek down to the beach, and when I reached the sand beyond the dunes, I took a left, toward an inlet where I would find Crab City and Peter. I was glad the sun was warm; otherwise, my bare toes would have frozen in the autumn sand.

      When I rounded the beach to the inlet, I gave out a howl of laughter. At the end of wet, slimy sand, through which small rivulets of water ran, I saw Peter. He was wearing knee-high rubber boots, carrying a net, and scribbling notes with the short stub of his number-two pencil. He appeared, from my angle, as if he were trying to interview the little crustaceans. He looked up and gave me a wave with a huge smile.

      “Watch your step,” he said.

      Indeed, I would have to be careful. Although the sand looked muddy and bleak at first glance, on closer inspection, the ground was in constant motion. This phenomenon was the result of thousands of little crabs, exposed from their snug homes for the period of low tide. They were climbing over each other, ducking in and out of safe spaces, and seemed to exponentially multiply moment by moment. Their activities were warranted too. Above, seagulls flew in droves, looking for a good meal. Fortunately for them, the clams at the shoreline on the other side of the beach were the tastier delicacy.

      While the birds made bomb dives into the shallow sea behind me, I skipped from here to there until I reached Peter. By way of greeting, he placed four tiny hermit crabs in my hand.

      “They tickle,” I said, feeling them crawl over my palm. “I love it. If I didn’t know they were crabs, I’d feel really spooked by their claws moving so manically over me. Can we bring a few dozen of them over to Halloween Haunts on Friday and return them before they’re in danger? I bet we could use them to make a wonderfully scary spider booth in the Spooks Room. With a blindfold on, they’d feel just like creeping spiders.”

      “That would be amazing,” he said. “Speaking of spooky things, what’d you find out about the skeleton?”

      “A lot, or maybe nothing at all,” I said.

      I told him about my search and Agnes’s family story. Peter turned a page in his notebook as I spoke. I wondered how that book would read from page to page. Crabs on one side, skeletons on another.

      The tide had already started to return, and the water was cold on my feet, so Peter and I found a patch of sand closer to the ocean where we took a break. He handed me half of a turkey sandwich, which made me realize how hungry I was. We ate as I finished my story.

      “I think there are too many parallels between Agnes’s family history and the skeleton you found to drop the lead,” said Peter when I’d finished. “Agnes was told that the two con artists made up the story of the attack and used it as an excuse to leave town, but maybe Jedediah really left alone.”

      “I see you’re coming around to my murder theory, but I’m not following you. Why would Jedediah kill Patience before leaving the island? They had the money.”

      “Actually, it’s not a murder theory,” said Peter. “Patience was probably attacked, somehow held on to the money, but then died from her wounds. Jedediah buried her quickly and hit the road, using the excuse of her needing help to avoid suspicion. People are susceptible to stories.”

      Peter lay back on the sand, and I joined him, tucking my head into the crook of his arm. For the second time today, I watched the clouds roll by.

      “I still think it was murder. Maybe someone else left Nantucket with Jedediah,” I said. “What if they killed Patience and hid her in the fireplace?”

      Before we could explore the idea, my phone rang. I looked at the screen to find the words WICK & FLAME.

      “It’s Cherry,” said my assistant’s bright voice when I hit ACCEPT. “Everything’s going well today. I sold a Tinker Special. A tourist came in and snapped him up. Said she has a black tabby at home.”

      “That’s great,” I said.

      “Also, I have a phone message,” said Cherry. “The ghost tour lady, Brenda, called. She said to tell you that she went by the Morton house, hoping you’d be there, but that the police were there and a few people she’d never seen before, so she left. She’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

      “Thanks,” I said.

      Cherry went on to tell me a few more details about our days’ sales, but I was focused on one thing only.

      “Come on,” I said to Peter when I ended the call. I stood and pulled Peter up behind me. “The forensics people are there already.”

      “I can’t,” said Peter. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you, but my contact at U Mass suggested that I stay here tonight. There will be a waxing gibbous moon, and he said lunar phases affect sea life, especially right before a full moon. He says it’s not to be missed. I thought it was worth investigating.”

      I looked at Peter’s gear and noticed that he had brought his sleeping bag.

      “You’re crazy about this story,” I said, in the most loving way.

      “A little bit. Are you going to be alright in that old house tonight?” he said, pulling me close to him. “We could always have a campout.”

      “Not on your life,” I said. “But text me a picture of the moon. Also, you have dried seaweed in your hair.”

      “It’s a fashion statement,” he said. “Meant to woo you.”

      I gave him a kiss to let him know it had worked and headed back down the beach. By the time I reached the car, I was wondering if the body would be gone from The Shack by the time I got home. I knew Andy was a professional, and that duty called, but I also couldn’t believe he had moved ahead so quickly. I’d hoped to have information for him before he started to take next steps. I really did feel responsible for the mysterious corpse’s well-being.

      Fortunately, when I parked in front of the house, Andy’s car was still out front. I marched to the back of the house and across the yard to The Shack.

      “Hello!” I said, entering the room as the lady of the house.

      I noticed that my candles had been replaced by a small generator and three spotlights that lit the room much better. The lights were clamped onto standing rods, so that they could be directed in different places if need be. Another big change to the room was the addition of some white sheets hanging from stands, which broke the space into different sections. A folding table had also been brought in. On top of it was scientific-looking stuff, like test tubes and a box of latex gloves and magnifying glasses and bottles of liquids. Someone had moved the Cooper’s Candles sign across the room, where it now lay beside the door.

      Andy was standing by the hearth with two people, a man and a woman.

      Dressed in forgettable attire, the man had a long, skinny neck upon which sat a head marked by thick, dark eyebrows and round spectacles that were too small for his pale face, in my opinion. If the girls had hired him to pose as a vampire for their event, I’d have thought he was the perfect find.

      In

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