“What?” Candy’s ears perked up. “What makes you say that?”

Sebastian tilted his head and his gaze narrowed. “Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Consider the facts: Sapphire blackmailed me into voting for her, but my votes alone probably were not enough to throw the pageant her way. Perhaps she was blackmailing another.”

“Perhaps,” Candy agreed, still unwilling to tell him of Herr Georg’s part in Sapphire’s pageant scheme.

But what if there had been a third judge involved? Candy mused.

“Furthermore,” Sebastian continued, “she was killed just two days after the pageant. Very suspicious, I would say-it suggests there must have been some connection. And then, of course, there’s the matter of Jock Larson.”

“Jock?” Candy said, surprised.

“Jock?” Maggie echoed, sounding equally surprised.

“Yes, Jock. His death and the death of Ms. Vine were both suspicious, were they not? Granted, there’s no proof that Jock Larson was murdered-but what if he had been? What if there’s some connection between the two?”

“What if…?” Candy said softly, her mind working.

“Well,” Sebastian said, throwing up a hand, “I doubt we’ll solve the problem tonight. Perhaps it would be best to let the police handle this matter from here on.”

Candy nodded, deep in thought. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Well,” Maggie cut in, “I think that’s our cue to leave.” She gathered up Cameron and Amanda and steered them toward the door. “Time to go home, kids.” As she made her way outside, she waved back at Sebastian. “It’s been fun. Really. Let’s do it again sometime. Candy, you coming?”

Outside, the storm had eased a bit. The sea was still in a fury, but the driving rain had let up. The lane that led back to the main road was a soggy, puddle-laden mess but proved no problem for Cameron’s truck and Candy’s Jeep. Maggie sat in silence as they drove through the darkness back toward home, following Cameron’s taillights. Candy was silent also, deep in thought. She had the radio on, and the announcer was talking about a severe weather watch and possible flooding throughout the region, but even that barely registered. She felt a buzzing in her chest, the rattling of an idea that was building inside her, layering outward, forming itself into a full-fledged thought that still needed a few moments to mature. But she pushed it forward anxiously, until it threatened to burst from her.

“The judges,” she said finally, cutting into the silence, after they had driven a few miles.

“I’m sorry? What?”

Up ahead, Cameron turned off toward Fowler’s Corner, but on an impulse, Candy gunned the Jeep and continued on, straight ahead.

Maggie watched Cameron’s taillights trailing off to their right, then looked curiously at her friend. “We’re not going home?”

“Not yet, no.”

“You’ve got something else in mind tonight?”

Candy looked over at her. “I do.”

“And what, pray tell, might that be?”

“I don’t think you’re going to like this, but we’re going to break into Town Hall.”

THIRTY-FIVE

“It’s unlocked.”

“How can that be? They don’t leave this place open at night, do they?”

“Who knows? But it’s a bit of good luck for us. Now we don’t have to break anything-we can just walk right in. Come on.” Candy pushed open the back basement door of the Pruitt Opera House and peered at the darkness inside. “Good thing I still had that gear from last night in the Jeep.” She flicked on a flashlight and shined the beam into a long dark hallway. Behind her, Maggie folded up her umbrella and noisily shook it out, letting loose a spray of raindrops.

Candy jumped. “Hey, watch where you’re shaking that thing,” she hissed, obviously spooked. “And try to keep it down, will ya?”

“I am keeping it down,” Maggie retorted. “Just taking care of my umbrella.”

“Did you have to bring that thing along?”

“I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t parked so far away.”

“I had to park far away. We’re breaking in, remember? I don’t want someone to see the Jeep parked out front.”

“Who’s gonna see it on a night like this?”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“Well, bringing the umbrella along was a precaution also. What if it starts raining heavy again?”

Candy let out a sigh of resignation and took a few steps over the threshold and into the basement hallway. “Let’s just get what we came for and get out of here.”

“What’d we come for again?”

“The judges ballots, remember? We’ve got to find out if anyone else threw their votes to Sapphire. It might tip us off to the murderer.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Well, lead on then, Macduff.”

“Just try not to leave a bunch of puddles behind with that dripping umbrella,” Candy said over her shoulder as she started down the dark hallway.

“Um, I think somebody else beat us to that.”

“What?” Candy stopped and looked back at her friend.

Maggie pointed ahead of them, along the hallway. “See there? On the floor.”

Candy gave Maggie a quizzical look, then turned and shined her flashlight downward, then out in front of her.

A trail of wet footprints led down the hall, away from them.

“Where’d those come from?” Candy asked.

They exchanged a look.

“Someone else must be in here,” Maggie said, dropping her voice into a worried whisper.

Candy shook her head as she studied the footprints. “Not necessarily. Someone could have come and left. It’s been raining for a while. How long does it take wet footprints to dry?”

“At least an hour or so, wouldn’t it?” Maggie asked hopefully.

Candy shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe we should leave,” Maggie suggested, hope in her voice.

“No, we have to do this. I think we’ll be okay if we’re cautious. Come on.”

Further on, the hall ended at a cross corridor. Turning right, Candy saw a stairway at the end of another long hallway.

“The town council’s office is down there somewhere,” Maggie said, looking over Candy’s shoulder.

Candy nodded resolutely. “Okay. That’s probably where we’ll find the ballots.”

“Do you think they’ll have them locked up? In a safe, maybe?”

Candy didn’t reply. She had wondered that herself, thinking this could all be a complete waste of time. But they had to try, she reminded herself. She moved on, holding the flashlight close to her body, so it was half-hidden, its light muted. “I think there’s a light on up there.”

“Where?”

“In one of the offices. It’s real faint, though.”

“Maybe they leave a night light on.”

“Maybe.” Candy found that it took all the courage she had to take the next few steps. The old building creaked as the wind outside drove at it, creating odd moans and echoes that sounded from the dark, distant corners of the basement. Refusing to be spooked, Candy continued on, with Maggie close behind.

Doors passed by on the left and right, all closed, until they came to one that was open, on their left at the far end of the hall. The faint light Candy had seen from a distance turned out to be a desk lamp, its shade pulled down and angled so the light was directed against the back wall. Candy checked the nameplate on the door: TOWN COUNCIL.

“This is it,” Candy whispered.

It was a windowless office with three desks and long shelves for books against the back wall. Two of the desks were pushed up against the front and side walls, looking relatively unused. The third occupied a space about halfway into the room, and was positioned so it faced the door. Papers and files were stacked neatly on its desktop, and containers for pens, paper clips, and pushpins were arranged in a neat row to one side. A nameplate on the front of the desk identified its owner as Bertha Grayfire, the chairwoman of the town council.

Candy walked to the desk and scanned the papers, then looked back at Maggie. “Why don’t you keep a lookout, just in case anyone’s still hanging around. I’ll see what I can find.”