“These Apex hammers,” Cameron said again.

“What, the ones with the red fiberglass handles?”

“Yes, that’s right, sir,” said the police officer as Mr. Gumm approached them. “Allegedly three of these hammers have been sold. I need to know who you sold them to.”

“Well, let me see now.” The shuffling stopped as Mr. Gumm thought about this. “I sold one to that butler fellow who works up at Pruitt Manor. Unpleasant one, he is,” Mr. Gumm grumbled. “Looks a lot like a bulldog, doesn’t he?”

Candy’s eyes grew wide as the policeman asked, “When was that, sir?”

“Well, now, let me see. Must’ve been Thursday or Friday last week, I guess. Yup, yup, that’s right. Cam ’s off on Thursdays, so I was here by myself. That’s when it was.”

“I see. I’m afraid I’ll need to confiscate the rest of these hammers,” Officer Martin said. “They might be evidence.”

“Evidence of what?”

“It’s part of a murder investigation, sir.”

“Murder? In Cape Willington? Who got murdered?”

“A woman named Sapphire Vine. A hammer just like one of these was used as the murder weapon.”

“What?!” Cameron’s voice came out as a disbelieving shout that made Candy jump, even though she was an aisle away. “What did you say?”

Calmly, Office Martin repeated his statement. “Someone murdered Sapphire Vine, using a hammer for a weapon.”

“But that’s impossible!” Cameron shouted, his voice so high it was almost a shriek.

“I’m sorry but it’s true.” Officer Martin’s voice was strangely calm, almost cold.

“But she can’t be dead! She can’t be!” Cameron sounded as if he were about to cry.

“I know how shocking it can be,” Officer Martin said, forcing sympathy into his voice.

“Shocking? Damn right it’s shocking,” Mr. Gumm said. “And with a hammer? Well, that’s downright brutal.”

“It was, sir. The hammer we found at the scene of the crime was brand new, just like these. Didn’t have a scratch on it. Just to tie up any loose ends, we’re running down all the other hammers like it in town. That’s why I need to take custody of these. If more are sold it might foul up the investigation.”

“Well, I’ll have to charge you for them then,” said Mr. Gumm. “Those are quality hammers-our top-of-the-line. Cost eighteen dollars each.”

“Send a bill over to Town Hall. You can tag it with my name if you want.”

Mr. Gumm grumbled at that. “Durn right I’ll put your name on it. And you ain’t leaving here until you at least fix your signature to a sales receipt. I ain’t made of money, you know. Got a business to run here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cameron, help him bag up those hammers. I guess we got to give them to him. Just got them in-durn shame.”

“I’ll need to bag them myself,” Officer Martin said. “Special handling.”

“Well, do what you have to do,” Mr. Gumm said, and he began to shuffle away.

“I… I have to leave,” Cameron said suddenly. Candy could hear his footsteps head away back down the aisle and toward the door.

“Hey, boy! Where’re ya going?” Mr. Gumm called out, but there was no reply.

What was that all about? Candy wondered as she suddenly remembered that she had to meet Doc. She checked her watch. It was nearly one thirty. As quietly and carefully as she could, she walked to the end of the aisle and strolled nonchalantly up to the cash register, where Mr. Gumm was scribbling something down on a nearly used-up pad of sales receipts. He looked up at her as she placed the bundles of chicken wire down on the counter.

“Oh, Candy, it’s you. Didn’t know you were here.”

“I was way in the back, looking at chicken wire. I need to do a few repairs on the coop. Got a fox trying to get at the girls.”

Mr. Gumm shook his head and had a chuckle at that. “Those foxes do love their chickens. Sneaky little critters. They got dark murdering hearts, they do.”

Candy nodded grimly. “They’re not the only ones.”

“You got that right. Been strange goings-on in this town lately. Strange goings-on.” The old man shook his gray head again and jabbed a crooked finger at the keys of an ancient cash register. “That’ll be five twenty-five.”

FOURTEEN

Doc was waiting for her in the truck. He gave her his best bored look, which he had perfected over the years, as she threw the chicken wire into the back and climbed into the cab.

“Took you long enough,” he said evenly as he started the truck. “You said fifteen minutes.”

“I got held up talking to Mr. Gumm.”

“Ah, well, that’ll happen. Get everything you needed?”

“Yup.”

She wanted to tell him more-about eavesdropping on the conversation between Cameron and Officer Martin, and about Cameron’s strange reaction upon hearing of Sapphire Vine’s death-but she held back. She wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet. Instead, she fell silently into her own thoughts as Doc backed up the truck, started off along Main Street, made a right turn onto the Coastal Loop, and headed out of town. But as they came to the intersection of River Road, Candy impulsively signaled to the right.

“Dad, do me a favor and turn here,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“Make a right turn up here.”

He looked puzzled. “I thought you needed to get home so you can deliver those pies to Melody’s Place.”

“It’s called Melody’s Café, and I need to stop at the Tremonts’ first.”

“The Tremonts’? Why would you wanna go there? Ed’s away and Maggie’s probably still at work.”

Candy rubbed her forehead in thought. “I’m not sure. I just want to check on something. Indulge me. Please?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I guess I’ve done that enough times,” he said as his mouth worked itself into a grin, and made a right turn at the intersection.

The Tremonts lived on the north side of the English River, in an area locally known as Fowler’s Corner. A hundred years ago, all this land had belonged to one of the town’s most illustrious former citizens, a long-whiskered gentleman known as Edwin P. Fowler who had come to Cape Willington in the 1860s when he was still in his twenties, and in the decades that followed had made his fortune in logging, banking, and land speculation.

But most of Fowler’s land had long since been sold off, and starting in the 1950s a number of side streets and cul-de-sacs had been built in the area. The majority of homes were little white capes with a few split-levels mingled in here and there. The Tremonts lived on a street of newer homes at the edge of town, in a three-bedroom green gabled house barely five years old.

Doc pulled into the driveway and Candy jumped out. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” he said, turning off the engine but leaving the radio on. He leaned his head back. “Guess I’m not in a hurry.”

Candy rang the doorbell and waited. After what seemed like an interminable period of time, the door cracked open and a curious eye peeked out. “Who’s there?”

“Amanda? It’s me, Candy.”

“Oh, hi.” The door opened a bit further. Amanda stood in the doorway, wearing white shorts and a pale pink sleeveless blouse, and eating a muffin. Candy noticed with a bit of dismay that the muffin wasn’t one of hers. “Mom’s at work.”

“I’m not here to see your mom. I’m here to see you.”

“Oh. Okay.” Amanda opened the door a little further. “You wanna come in?”

“Actually”-Candy looked past her into the house-“I was wondering… is Cameron here?”

“ Cam?” Amanda turned and looked behind her as if she wasn’t really sure. “Um, I don’t think so. Why?”

“I need to talk to him.”

Amanda’s forehead crinkled. “About what?” she asked as she took another bite of the muffin.

“Oh, nothing really important. Listen, if he comes in, would you…?”

At that moment she was interrupted by the sound of a door opening somewhere in the back of the house and a male voice calling out, “Amanda? You here?”