“Oh, there he is now,” Amanda said, chewing loudly. “So you wanna come in?”

Candy nodded. “If it’s okay.”

“Sure.”

They found Cameron in the kitchen, his nose stuck deep into the fridge. “Hey, ’Manda,” he called as he heard them approaching, “where’s the rest of that watermelon your mom-”

He stopped abruptly as he backed out of the fridge and saw Candy. “Oh. It’s you,” he said in a surprisingly cold tone. He slammed shut the refrigerator door and walked away toward the family room that adjoined the kitchen.

“Cameron, wait. I want to talk to you.” Candy followed him, with Amanda trailing behind.

“What about?” he growled, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

“I overheard you talking to Officer Martin at Gumm’s.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I guess you were there, weren’t you? I forgot about that.” He plopped down on a relatively new brown sofa and searched around for the TV remote.

Candy stood in front of him with her arms crossed. She got right to the point. “You took the news about Sapphire pretty hard.”

“Yeah, well, it just surprised me, that’s all.”

“I wasn’t aware you knew Sapphire that well. Were you two friends?”

Cameron looked up at her crossly and then flicked his eyes to Amanda before he continued his search for the remote. “No.”

“Then why the big scene at Gumm’s?”

He gave her a dirty look. “What is this, the third degree?”

“Not at all. I was just worried about you. You seemed pretty upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. Just hungry, that’s all.” He finally found the remote, stuck down between the seat cushions. He fished it out, leaned back, and flicked on the TV.

“Cameron.” Candy sat down beside him as he channel surfed. He wouldn’t look at her. “Cameron, I want to talk to you about the hammers.”

“What?”

“The hammers. The new red-handled hammers you got in at the store.”

He breathed out through gritted teeth. “What about them?”

Candy took a deep breath and hesitated only a moment before plunging on. “You said you sold one of the hammers to someone from Town Hall. I was just wondering what he looked like. The person you sold it to, I mean.”

Cameron glanced over at her with suspicion in his eyes. “Why?”

Candy paused again. It was a good question. What should she say? She didn’t really know the answer herself, except that some sort of instinct seemed to be driving her on. “Something just doesn’t quite make sense, that’s all,” she answered finally. “I guess I’m trying to figure a few things out.”

He considered that as he stopped channel surfing at a sports news program on ESPN. Finally he shrugged. “It was just some guy. I’ve seen him in the store a bunch of times, but he never talks to me much. He mostly deals with Mr. Gumm.”

“What does this guy look like?” Candy prodded.

Cameron’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Kinda overweight, I guess, with this big beer belly. Glasses, black hair, black moustache.” After a moment, Cameron added, “And he has kinda this red face.”

Candy thought a moment. “Ned? Is that who it was? Ned Winetrop?”

Cameron shrugged. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“And he bought the hammer from you on Saturday morning?”

Cameron nodded.

There was silence for a few moments. Candy could feel the tension coming off him. Finally she smiled and slapped her hands on her knees. “Well, okay. I guess that’s about all I wanted to ask you.” She looked at him closely. “You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.” He got up and walked back into the kitchen, with Candy and Amanda following. He crossed to the fridge and opened it again. “I’m starving,” he said, bending over so he could scrutinize the items inside.

Amanda edged past him and reached for the peanut butter and jelly. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”

He smiled up at her, and for the first time since he had walked in the door he looked like the teenage boy Candy knew so well. “Thanks, babe,” he said to Amanda. “You’re too good to me.”

“Aww, you’re worth it,” she said, snuggling up against him.

Candy watched them wistfully for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way. Like I said, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

They seemed to barely hear her. In fact, she felt practically invisible.

She turned toward the door. “I’ll just… let myself out. No, no, that’s okay. No reason to see me to the door or anything silly like that. I’m a big girl. I’ll be just fine.”

They never noticed her leaving.

Back out in the truck, Doc was listening to a country song and tapping away noisily on the steering wheel. He started up the truck as Candy climbed in beside him.

“So, we good to go?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“I saw Cameron’s car pull up a few minutes ago.”

“Yup,” Candy said.

“Something’s going on, huh?” Doc glanced over at his daughter. “You up to no good?”

Candy gave him a sly smile. “Yup.”

He laughed and patted her on the knee as he turned the truck back toward home. “That’s my girl.”

FIFTEEN

It was nearly three thirty by the time Candy dropped off the pies at Melody’s Café. They had agreed to a price of nine dollars apiece, which was adequate for Candy and would still turn a nice profit for Melody, who planned to sell slices at three dollars apiece.

“That should hold me for this week,” Melody told her. “They look lovely.”

“Thanks. I’ll have more for you on Monday.”

Melody paid her in cash, which she pulled from the register, and with forty-five dollars in her pocket, Candy walked back out to the Jeep as a fierce gust of wind, full of the scent of earth and sea, swept down from the sky and assaulted her, whipping her hair about her face.

Though the morning had been fairly warm and pleasant, the day had steadily worsened as ominous clouds gathered on the western horizon. Those clouds had reached them now, the dark churning sky swallowing up the sun. Candy climbed into the driver’s seat as the first few heavy raindrops pelted the sidewalk and street around her.

She sat for a moment as the sky broke open and the deluge began. Lightning crackled in the distance, and a roll of thunder shook like a fist of fury down from the skies.

Candy wasn’t thinking about the storm, though. She was thinking about Sapphire Vine and Ray and that red-handled hammer. Something Maggie had said to her on the phone that morning kept nagging at her, tickling away at her brain: Ray wouldn’t hurt a fly, Maggie had said. He tears up when he steps on a cockroach.

Maybe so. But they had found his hammer at the scene of the crime. And according to Finn Woodbury, someone had seen Ray’s truck in front of Sapphire’s house last night, when Sapphire had been murdered. What had he been doing there? And could he really have hit her with his hammer?

Candy recalled the way Ray had cradled the hammer when she had handed it back to him that day in the barn. Suddenly she knew what had been bothering her all day.

Ray loves that hammer, she thought. The other day, he treated it like some sort of precious thing, almost as though he were in love with it. He didn’t even want me to touch it. He didn’t want it to get damaged at all. So if he loves that hammer so much, why would he muck it all up by hitting Sapphire in the skull with it? And why would he leave it there after he hit her?

None of it made any sense.

Candy started up the Jeep. She decided she had to talk to Maggie again, to try to sort it all out. She drove to the intersection of River Road and the Loop, made a left turn, then another left onto Main Street and a right onto Ocean Avenue. It could be difficult to find a parking space along here in the afternoons, but she lucked out and found a spot practically right in front of Stone & Milbury’s. Ignoring the pelting rain, she jumped out of the Jeep and dashed toward the insurance agency’s front door.