Maggie leaned in closer, scrutinizing the photo. After a few moments her face lit up. “He’s the same kid we saw in the photo downstairs with Sapphire!”

Candy nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“So now we know what happened to him,” Maggie said softly.

“That we do.” Candy finally folded up the newspaper clipping, placed it inside the book, and laid it on the desktop. “So that’s one mystery solved-sort of. But there are plenty more that need figuring out. Let’s keep looking.”

“Righto!” As Maggie bounced away to continue her snooping, Candy turned back to the cardboard filing cabinet. She took a moment to orient herself, glancing at the labels on the manila folders. Yes, she realized almost immediately, these were all the files she had been seeking.

Toward the front she found a file devoted to each of the Blueberry Queen Pageant contestants, including Amanda. Maggie would want to see that one. Candy pulled it out and set it on top of the makeshift desk, beside the copy of Sebastian J. Quinn’s book of poetry.

Behind the contestants’ files were a thick file on Mrs. Pruitt, and a separate, much thinner one for Hobbins the butler. Those two files will bear checking out later, Candy thought. Probably some real interesting stuff in there. She pulled them out as well.

Paging on back, she came to a file on Jock Larson. That caught her attention. What had Sapphire known about Jock? Probably a lot, Candy guessed. She pulled it out and flipped open the cover. Inside she found a stack of lined yellow pages filled with Sapphire’s neat handwriting, and long lists of names, dates, times, addresses, phone numbers, license plate numbers, family histories, even notes on what Jock and his various female companions had been wearing when they had been spied upon by Sapphire. Candy thumbed randomly back through the pages, spotting a vaguely familiar name here and there, though most of the notes seemed to predate her arrival in Cape Willington. The most recent entry was dated about six months earlier.

Failing to find anything particularly revealing, she was about to flip the folder closed when she noticed a small plastic ziplock bag tucked in the back. It looked empty, but when Candy lifted it out and gingerly held it up to the light, she saw that it contained a few strands of long white hair.

She puzzled over that for a moment, then placed the bag back in the folder, closed it, and set it aside with the others, planning to examine it more closely later. For now, she turned her attention back to the file cabinet. She continued on toward the back, her fingers tugging at the well-worn manila folders, glancing at the names on the neatly hand-printed labels. There were no other files on her or Doc, or on Maggie, thank goodness, but she found another one on Cameron, which she pulled out. A bit further on, she found one on Ben Clayton, which she also removed, thinking it could make interesting reading. No doubt Sapphire had collected a few tasty secrets about tall, handsome Ben.

At the very back she found a folder devoted to each of the Blueberry Queen Pageant judges, including Oliver LaForce, the owner of the Lightkeeper’s Inn, and even one on Sebastian J. Quinn. And at the very back, a thick file on Herr Georg.

Hesitating just a moment, Candy pulled the file out and flipped open the cover. More e-mails to and from Sapphire and BAK1946-obviously Herr Georg. These were more direct and threatening than the others Candy had seen. She shuffled back through the folder. Obscure newspaper clippings, apparently decades old. Fuzzy photocopies of what looked like birth records in German. And then something that surprised her: documents that looked like genealogical and military records, some with the swastika stamped ominously at the top of the page.

As she worked her way back through the documents, Candy’s dread grew. She wondered how Sapphire had gotten her hands on all this material-and if, finally, here was a real motive for murder. It all began to make sense. If Sapphire, with her relentless digging, had turned up some dark secret from Herr Georg’s past, had she used that knowledge to blackmail him? And had that driven him to the unthinkable?

Candy shuddered, knowing what her next step would have to be.

She was still scanning the documents when Maggie spoke out in shock. “Oh my God!”

Candy started, her gaze shooting to Maggie. “What? What’s wrong?”

Maggie was standing beside the twin mattress, bending over it. She held up a discarded Phish T-shirt and a well-worn Red Sox baseball cap. “Cameron was here!”

“What?”

She shook the items she held, the distress evident on her face. “These belong to Cameron!”

“Cameron who?”

“Our Cameron! My Cameron. Cameron Zimmerman!”

Candy shook her head. “That’s crazy. You’re jumping to conclusions. Those clothes could belong to anyone.”

“They belong to Cameron. I’ve seen him wearing them. Plus, his initials are on the headband inside the cap.”

Candy shook her head in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. What would they be doing up here? You think Sapphire stole them from him?”

“No! Don’t you see? Cameron was here!” Maggie pointed emphatically to the bed. “He’s slept here!”

“Here?” Candy’s gaze was drawn inexorably to the bed. “But why would he…?”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“It’s simple! Cameron and Sapphire were having an affair!”

TWENTY-FOUR

A sudden gust of wind rattled the old house. Candy glanced uneasily up at the ceiling, then back at Maggie, making a face that communicated her disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m totally serious! The evidence is right here. This must have been their secret love shack!”

Candy’s response was a muted half laugh. “Do you know how crazy that sounds? I mean, come on! Cameron’s barely eighteen. What would he ever see in Sapphire? He’s much too young for her.”

“She’s a cradle robber! I always knew she was creepy!”

Candy shook her head. “I don’t believe a word of it. There must be some other explanation. Maybe…”

But she gulped down her words as they heard a door open and then close somewhere downstairs.

For a moment Candy and Maggie stared at each other in shocked silence. Then Maggie hissed, “Someone’s here!”

“Douse the lights!”

“We’re trapped!”

“Shh. No one knows we’re up here. Just keep cool and we’ll be fine.”

They switched off their flashlights, drifted back into the low corners of the room, and waited.

They could hear footsteps walking through the house two floors below.

“Should we turn out that other light?” Maggie whispered from her hiding place, motioning to the floor lamp.

“No, just leave it on.”

“The trap door’s still open!” Maggie started toward it, but Candy urged her back.

“Just leave it alone! Don’t make a sound.”

Maggie edged back into her corner, crouched, and waited.

Heavy footsteps were coming up the stairs, two at a time.

“They’re coming up!”

“Shh!”

Maggie shushed, though Candy could hear her whimpering quietly. They both waited nervously. The footsteps were closer now, turning into the bedroom below. Candy’s heart thumped in her chest and blood rushed through her ears. What if it was someone dangerous? What if the person who had killed Sapphire-not Ray, but the real killer-had come to kill them?

Candy looked around for a weapon as she heard the footsteps enter the closet and pause just below the trap door.

She spotted a camera tripod near her, tucked into the corner. Carefully she picked it up and held it in her right hand, ready to swing if necessary. It wasn’t the best weapon in the world, but it was metal and it was hard and it would do in a pinch.