“I hope you’ll consider the offer,” he said as they stood in the alcove again. “I sure could use the help.”

“It might be fun,” Candy said, trying to sound positive, though something about the whole thing bothered her. Maybe it was the fact that she would be taking Sapphire’s old job.

She raced back to the Jeep and jumped into the front seat, but sat for a few minutes before she started it up, considering Ben’s offer. She believed in going with her gut instinct, and that instinct told her to take a pass on the job. Still, she had promised him she would think about it, and she decided that that was what she would do.

But first, she had a friend to save, and a stop to make.

SIXTEEN

Even as she walked up to the front door, she wasn’t sure why she had come.

Ned Winetrop lived in what was commonly called a New Englander-a catchall term for a two-story, high-peaked-roof affair that couldn’t quite be classified as a Victorian, cape, ranch, or anything else. This one had obviously once been known euphemistically as a “fixer-upper,” but Ned, being a carpenter, had done quite a bit of work on it over the years. It was now fairly presentable, though still rather plain looking, with its simple lines and white clapboard exterior.

Candy was somewhat surprised to find Ned’s old, dark blue Reading-bodied work truck in the driveway. Some part of her had been hoping he wouldn’t be home, but he was, so she had no excuse for driving away without talking to him.

She had been uncertain at first of what she was going to say to him, but on the ride over she had worked it out in her head. She rehearsed it mentally one last time as she climbed the cement steps, pulled open the screen door, and rapped loudly on the front door, which looked as though it had just been given a fresh coat of burgundy-colored paint.

She heard movement inside. A moment later the door opened and Ned peered out, holding a half-eaten sandwich in one hand. “Yeah?”

“Hi, Ned. It’s Candy Holliday.”

He looked surprised to see her. “Oh, hi, Candy.” He leaned out and glanced back and forth. “Doc with you?”

“No, I’m here alone. I wondered if I could have a few minutes of your time.”

Ned took a bite out of the sandwich. He had a pudgy face with high cheeks, and the combination partially obscured his dark eyes, as though burying them amongst a jumble of deep red pillows. “Sure, guess so. What about?”

“The Blueberry Queen Pageant.” Candy flashed the business card Ben Clayton had given her, though she was careful to hold her thumb over Ben’s name, so that just the newspaper’s name and address at the top showed. “I’m working for the Cape Crier now. Ben, the editor, asked me to write an article about the pageant. I thought I’d include something about your efforts.”

“Really?” Ned’s eyes widened, he grinned oddly, and with his ample hip he pushed the front door open all the way. “Come on in.”

The living room was neat and welcoming, though it was clear Mrs. Ned subscribed to the Wal-Mart School of Decorating. “Wanna sit down?” Ned indicated the olive green sofa, which obviously was not from the Ethan Allen collection.

“Okay, sure.”

“Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

Candy shook her head as she settled into the sofa. “I don’t want to take too much of your time.”

Ned finished his sandwich in three bites and dusted his fingers on the front of his shirt. “So what can I help you with?” he asked around a mouthful of ham, cheese, and French’s mustard.

“Well, I know you did a lot of work on the set for the pageant.”

He nodded as he settled into a well-worn armchair. “Yup, yup.”

“I was just curious about some of the stuff you did, how long it took, that sort of thing.”

Ned scratched his head. “Well, you know, it wasn’t that tough of a job. I helped build the backdrop and did some of the decorating…,” and he went on to describe his contributions to the pageant.

“So you were in Town Hall most of the afternoon, then?” Candy asked. “On Saturday, I mean.”

“Yup, on Saturday. I wasn’t there that long. Just a couple of hours.”

“I heard you needed some new tools to do some of the work.”

Ned’s thick dark brows fell into a questioning look. “Tools?”

“Yeah, you know, I heard you had to buy a new hammer.”

“Oh, that.” He relaxed a bit. “You know, there’s a funny story about that. I loaned my best hammer to a friend, and would you believe he busted it trying to get a tire off his van?” Ned laughed. “He had a flat, and the tire was stuck-they’ll do that sometimes, you know. Most times you just have to give it a good kick with the heel of your boot, but he didn’t know that, so he banged on the metal wheel one too many times with my hammer. Shattered the handle. ’Course, he gave me some money to pay for a new one, and I had to make a trip to Gumm’s that morning. Bought this nice new red-handled job. And would you believe I lost it that same day?”

“You lost it?” Trying to remain nonchalant, Candy laughed with him-a good acting job, she thought.

“It sounds funny now, but I’ll tell you I was pretty burned up about it at the time. I set that thing down on the stage-at least, that’s where I thought I put it-and when I went back to get it, it was gone. Either someone stole it or…”

It must have dawned on him then what he was saying, because he stopped suddenly and looked at her with a strange expression on his red face. “Why are you asking me about the hammer?” he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Candy waved a hand at him and laughed nervously. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, trying to sound light and airy, though it came out incredibly forced. “It just sounded like an interesting story.”

Ned stared at her for the longest time, his face an unreadable mask as his mind worked back over the conversation. Finally he asked, “How did you know I bought a new hammer?”

“Oh.” Candy bit her lip, trying to think fast, but nothing much came to her. She shrugged, attempting to remain calm. “I guess I just heard it somewhere. It’s not that important. I wanted to ask you about Ray…”

“Ray?”

“Yeah, I know he helped you out on Saturday and-”

“Candy, does this have anything to do with that murder?”

“Murder?” Candy repeated parrotlike, putting on her best surprised look. “You mean Sapphire Vine? Why, no, of course not, I, I…”

Ned rose abruptly. “I don’t think I should answer any more questions,” he said stiffly.

Candy felt her heart thump in her chest as she rose too. “Why not?”

He let out a long breath through his nose. “I don’t think I should say anything about it right now.”

“Have the police talked to you?”

“Candy…” Ned’s voice trailed off as he crossed his arms and admonished her with his eyes.

“Okay, okay,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to offend you. I was just trying to get some info for my story.”

“Well…” He rolled his eyes. “No harm done, I guess, but I just can’t say anything else about what happened that day.”

“Oh no, of course not, I completely understand,” Candy said awkwardly, and made her way to the door.

I guess that was a stupid thing to do, she thought as she climbed back into the Jeep and drove home.

On the other hand, it had worked. She had found out an important piece of information about that day-Ned had lost his hammer. She sensed she was on to something.

In a moment of clarity, she knew what she had to do next.

When she got home, she walked around to the back of the barn. Doc was working on the coop, attaching the new chicken wire with a staple gun. “I’ll be right there to help, Dad,” she called to him, then turned, walked into the kitchen, and picked up the phone.

She called Maggie first. “Can’t meet you today,” Maggie said hurriedly. “Just got too much to do. Tomorrow, lunch?”