Jim paused, then said, “Costa’s in jail right now, because you said he threatened you. That was enough to hold him. Annie’s in the hospital. You’re in no danger tonight or tomorrow. And you’ve been given painkillers tonight.”

“What does that have to do with anything? I’m fine!” said ­Maggie.

Jim pointed to the IV and the ankle. “I’m talking about legalities, Maggie. The fact that you’re under the influence of drugs could be used to invalidate anything you say now. Get your cast on. Go back to Six Gables. Get a good night’s sleep. I have a couple of ideas. Let me make some calls. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” said Maggie.

“There is that,” said Jim. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Gussie will let either of us forget the wedding. We’ll talk in the morning. In the meantime, get some rest. Tomorrow you have to be the maid of ­honor.”

Chapter 41

The Bride.Classic lithograph, 1909, by Harrison Fisher (1875-1934). An elegantly attired bride sitting in a full-length satin wedding gown, with train and bouquet of white roses. Fisher, a third-generation artist, was the top magazine cover illustrator of the early twentieth century. His “American Girls” were considered the epitome of feminine beauty. He described his ideal as “well-bred and healthy-minded, delightfully free of pose. Mistress of herself, she looks out upon the world with frankness and assurance.” Fisher’s girls were on every cover of Cosmopolitan from 1913 until his death in 1934, and on eighty Saturday Evening Post covers. Trim, athletic, and educated, his “girls” helped define the “new woman.” 8.5 x 11 inches. $100.

The sun had the audacity to shine Saturday morning, displaying to the world the damage Hurricane Tasha had left in her wake.

Downed branches were everywhere. High tides and surf had brought seaweed, driftwood, and parts of collapsed buildings into villages close to the beaches. Beaches themselves had lost quantities of sand. Sections of boardwalk had disappeared.

Shingles, parts of roofs, and street signs were now on lawns and streets and hanging from trees. Trees had fallen on houses, cars, and other trees. Electric lines throughout Cape Cod and the Islands were down, leaving most homes and businesses dark. Many wires had fallen on flooded streets, creating the danger of electrocution. NSTAR Electric trucks seemed to be everywhere, but never in enough places.

The governor was on television and radio telling people to stay off the roads, leaving those that were open for clean-up and emergency vehicles, but most people didn’t have electricity so they didn’t hear his warnings and pleas to stay home.

Despite posted signs warning people of the continuing dangers of unusually strong high tides and rogue waves, people wandered the dunes and beaches, taking pictures of the dramatic breakers and looking for treasures the storm might have washed ashore.

At Six Gables Mrs. Decker served a breakfast of cold muffins, eggs hard-boiled on Friday, apples, and canned pineapple. No one complained, although Maggie knew Will was longing for hot coffee. She sponged herself off with cold water and was glad she’d showered the afternoon before, although her adventures after that had not left her in wedding picture-perfect condition. She pulled out the heels she’d planned to wear for the wedding, and Will tried not to laugh as she considered wearing one with a cast on the other foot and a crutch. At least the sapphire blue cast didn’t clash too much with the navy dress she’d decided to wear.

Maggie settled on one sandal and the reality that she’d be limping down the aisle.

She and Will were on speaking terms. Neither of them had said anything, but they had to stay civil for Gussie’s and Jim’s sakes, and they were doing that.

At nine o’clock Gussie called. “Maggie? How are you? Jim told me about your adventure last night.”

“I’m surviving. Your maid of honor will be using a crutch. That’s all,” said Maggie. “How’s the bride. Nervous?”

“Haven’t had time!” said Gussie. “And I need you and Will to help. We have a bit of a challenge.”

“Yes?”

“The manager of the Winslow Inn just called. Seems the hurricane flooded their dining rooms last night. There’s no way we can have the reception there.”

“Oh, no!”

“The good news is, they have a generator, so they can cook. And we have a generator, because I need one to keep my scooter battery charged. So we’re moving the reception to our house. They’re bringing the food here. The guest list has shrunk anyway; I’ve been getting calls all morning from people who can’t get here. But we’ll still have thirty-five or forty guests, and the show must go on.”

“Oh, Gussie. I’m thinking of your house. That means—”

“Right! We need the plywood off the windows, and the house decorated, and I still have to get dressed. We’ll serve the food buffet-style so that has to be set up. The hotel staff’s going to bring tables and dishes and silverware, so all that’s good, but we have to make space. Diana’s here. She’s going to help, and Lily will, too. Jim said he needs to see you right away, so could Will drop you at Jim’s office, and then bring Lily here, and stay and help?”

“He will,” Maggie said.

“You and Will had better bring your clothes for the wedding here, too. We’ll all get dressed and go to the church together. That will save time,” Gussie added. “And we have hot water.”

“That works,” Maggie agreed. “Weren’t you going to have your hair done this morning?”

“Lucky Ladies doesn’t have power,” Gussie said. “Which reminds me I’d better call the bakery and tell them to bring the cake here, not to the restaurant.”

“Keep calm. I’ll get there as soon as I can!” Maggie put down the phone and turned to Will. “We’re on wedding duty. The restaurant where the reception was to be is flooded, so they’ve moved the reception to their house.”

Will caught on immediately. “Those windows!”

“Exactly. And a hundred other details. You’re to drop me at Jim’s office, and take Lily to their house. Jim will bring me over as soon as I finish whatever he wants me to do.”

Will looked at her. “Don’t get too far into that legal mess, Maggie. It’s Jim’s wedding day.”

“I am aware. I also know I have to head for New Jersey tomorrow and you’ll head for Maine, and I can’t forget what happened yesterday. Any of it.”

“We have to get through the wedding, Maggie. And then I have to get back to Aunt Nettie.”

Maggie nodded, turning away to fix her hair so Will wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “Thank goodness she made it through the storm fine. Although I know you’re not thrilled with those dents she said that tree made in your RV.”

Will shrugged. “Dents aren’t critical. I’ll see how bad they are when I get back to Waymouth.”

“And right now we have to get going. Where’s your suit?” Maggie asked.

“I’ll get it. Tell me what you’ll need for this afternoon. You get yourself and your cast down those stairs to the lobby. I’ll take everything to the car.”

Fifteen minutes later, after a few detours to avoid streets blocked because of downed trees or wires, or both, Maggie was knocking on the door of Jim’s office.

Andy Sullivan was there with another man Maggie hadn’t met. The three men stood when she came in.

“Maggie, thanks for coming,” Jim said. “I’d like you to meet John Tolland. He’s a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation in Boston in charge of investigating drug trafficking. John, this is Dr. Margaret Summer, a friend of mine from New Jersey. While she’s been visiting my fiancée and me, Maggie’s learned some things about drugs sales here in Winslow that we feel the FBI would be interested in.”

“Dr. Summer, I appreciate your willingness to share whatever information you’ve found out. Do you mind if we record you?”