Nancy got out and watched him drive away. She shook her head, a thin smile on her lips. Some people sure have a way with words, she thought.
• • •
Hannah wanted to cancel their dinner reservation when Nancy told her about the rescue. “I’m glad you saved that poor man, but you must be worn-out. I think you need a quiet night at home.”
“I’m fine, Hannah, and I’ve been looking forward to dinner at the Bell Buoy. They say it’s the best place in town for shrimp scampi.”
Hannah shook her head, but she couldn’t hide a small smile. As the sun began to dip over the west side of the island, they rode down the hill to the restaurant near the docks in Old Harbor.
When the hostess showed them to their table in the busy restaurant, Nancy was pleased to find that Angie was their waitress. She looked especially pretty, dressed all in white with a blue Bell Buoy apron and a matching blue ribbon in her long dark hair.
“Hi, Angie. I didn’t know you were working tonight.” Nancy took the menu Angie handed her.
“I wasn’t supposed to, but one of the girls is sick,” Angie said. “They called me because they know I’m always happy to make the extra money.”
“Hannah,” Nancy said. “This is Barb Sommers’s roommate, Angelina Cassetti.”
“Hello,” Hannah said. “Nancy has told me about you.”
Angie smiled, then turned back to Nancy. “I heard about you rescuing D.J. today. He told Barb you saved his life.”
“How is Barb?” Nancy asked, anxious to change the subject. She hated to worry Hannah, and hadn’t yet told her that she was investigating the murder.
“Barb is . . . well, not so good,” Angie said. “On top of everything else, they’ve discovered that one of the burying beetle nests was destroyed when that grave was dug. It’s a real disaster, because there are so few of them to begin with.”
“That’s a shame,” Nancy said.
Angie saw someone signaling her at another table. “I’ve got to go. Do you like swordfish? It’s very fresh tonight—just off the boat.” She hurried away.
“Swordfish sounds good,” Hannah said.
After they finished consulting their menus, Nancy asked Hannah about Sarah.
“She’s managing, but it’s difficult,” Hannah said. “I stopped by Crazy for Crafts this afternoon. Thank goodness, the shop keeps her busy, but she’s still upset. With the body being held for the autopsy, she doesn’t know when she can have a funeral.”
Just then Angie returned to take their orders.
“Hannah will have the swordfish,” Nancy said. “And I’ll try the scampi.”
Angie wrote it down, collected their menus, and said, “Gosh, Nancy, I’m so glad you’re looking into this murder. Poor Barb has been hit with one thing after another—the murder, the beetles, now D.J. almost drowning. It helps her to know that you’re going to find out who killed Tom.” She sighed and left.
Hannah frowned at Nancy. “You didn’t mention you were checking into this murder.”
Nancy blushed slightly and said, “I was going to tell you. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
“And why shouldn’t I worry?” Hannah said. “You go risking your life, tracking down criminals—”
“There really isn’t any danger, Hannah,” Nancy assured her. “I’m only asking a few questions because Barb really wants me to help out. She’s sure D.J. is innocent. It’s important to everyone, especially Sarah, that we find out the truth.”
Hannah sighed. “Poor Sarah. Not knowing is so hard on her. All right, Nancy, I see your point. Only promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise,” Nancy said.
Nancy changed the subject while they ate, concentrating on their plans for when George and Bess arrived. They finished up by ordering two slices of double-fudge cake.
Angie was serving them their desserts when she stopped and gasped out loud. Nancy turned to see what she was staring at. Walt and Scott Winchester were following the hostess to one of Angie’s tables.
After the Winchesters were seated, Angie turned away from Nancy and Hannah, stopping the hostess as she passed by. “I can’t serve that party,” Angie said, sounding desperate. “Please put them somewhere else.”
“That’s the only free table, and they’ve been waiting for twenty minutes,” the hostess said.
Angie’s face was white with tension. “You don’t understand. I absolutely can’t serve them!”
The hostess’s eyes hardened. “Sorry, but you’ve got to.”
Angie stood still, her lips quivering. Without warning she untied her apron, dropped it to the floor, and ran out of the restaurant.
Chapter
Six
ASTONISHED, NANCY WATCHED Angie rush out of the restaurant.
“Do you know what’s wrong, Nan?” Hannah asked.
“I have no idea.” Nancy studied the Winchesters, wondering which of them Angie couldn’t stand, father or son. The two men were so involved in a discussion—or was it an argument?—that they apparently hadn’t noticed anyone else in the restaurant.
Nancy couldn’t imagine what Angie could have against Walt Winchester, but Scott was easy. He was so handsome, so arrogant. His smile was forced, even with his father.
What was the connection between Angie and Scott? Maybe he’d asked her out, or dated her for a while, then dumped her. Whatever it was, he must have treated her badly.
Nancy resolved to ask Barb about it the next day.
Barb called in the morning and suggested a picnic lunch at Mohegan Bluffs. Nancy rode over to the Nature Conservancy near Great Salt Pond to pick her up a little before noon.
“Hi,” Barb said when Nancy stepped into the office to the right of the door. “Let me grab some food out of the refrigerator and we’ll be off. I can’t wait to show you the cliffs.”
She disappeared into a back room and returned a moment later with a paper bag that she was stuffing in her knapsack.
“How’s your work going?” Nancy asked, avoiding the delicate subject of D.J. and Tom.
“Everyone is still upset about the nest that was destroyed,” Barb said as they went out to their mopeds. “All the babies were killed, although it’s possible the parents escaped.”
“If they did, will they mate again?” Nancy asked.
“Maybe, but it’s late in the breeding season.” Barb mounted her bike. “Enough shop talk. I need to get away and not think about D.J. or Tom or anything. I’d like to try to have a little fun!”
Nancy followed Barb to Center Street and up into the hills toward the southern end of the island. They passed a number of freshwater ponds as well as the airport.
Finally Barb slowed and turned off onto a narrow lane. When it ended, they left their mopeds and followed a path through wild rosebushes to the edge of a high cliff.
“Wow, what a sight,” Nancy said. Off to her left was the redbrick Southeast Lighthouse and before her was a steep cliff that dropped down a couple hundred feet to a rocky shore below. A strong wind was kicking up whitecaps far out and choppy waves rolled into shore.
“I love watching the ocean from here,” Barb said. “Do you realize, if you started swimming from here the first land you’d reach would be Portugal?”
“I’m a good swimmer, but . . .” Nancy smiled.
“Why don’t we eat our lunch here, then walk down the path to the beach.”
Nancy checked out the narrow trail that snaked its way down the cliff. “How do you walk down a cliff that’s almost vertical?”
“Never fear, the most dangerous part of the trail is the poison ivy growing along the sides.”
Grinning, Nancy said, “Now you’ve got me worried.”
Barb sat down on the grass and dug their lunch out of her knapsack. “There’s a staircase closer to the lighthouse, but I like this spot. Angie and I discovered it, and not too many people know about it.” She shivered slightly and zipped up her windbreaker. “Wow, the wind is strong.”
“The radio said a storm is on the way. It’s supposed to hit sometime this evening,” Nancy said, taking the tuna sandwich Barb handed her.
Barb opened a bag of potato chips, then stared thoughtfully at the high white clouds scudding across the sky. Finally Barb broke the silence and spoke about what was on both of their minds. “I saw D.J. last night. I want to thank you again for rescuing him, Nancy. He’s not too swift with words, as you might have noticed, but he was grateful.”
“Maybe now he’ll talk to me,” Nancy said.
“I asked him to cooperate, but he’s funny, full of stiff-necked Yankee pride. Plus, he was really shaken by Tom’s death, and furious that anyone could think he might have killed him.”
Nancy took a bite of her sandwich. “But they did fight a lot. Maybe this fight got out of hand and Tom was killed accidentally.”
“Don’t let D.J. hear you say that,” Barb warned. “Look, he’s building a house not far from here. We’ll stop by on our way back, but be careful. Right now he’s a keg of dynamite—with a short fuse.”
They were quiet for a while, eating and watching the boats bobbing in the rough water far down below.
“Something odd happened last night,” Nancy said after a few minutes. She told Barb about Angie’s strange behavior in the restaurant. “Did Scott and Angie ever date?”
“They sure did,” Barb said. “For a long time. They met last fall in college, and when Scott dropped out of school this spring and came to Block, Angie followed him as soon as the semester was over. They really seemed to be in love, so I was surprised when they broke up last month.”
“He must have done something pretty awful for Angie to get so upset.”
Barb shrugged. “I guess so. She refuses to talk about it or him.”
“Why did Scott drop out of college?” Nancy asked, curious about the handsome blond with the superior air.
“I don’t know him very well, but Angie once told me that he was getting a lot of pressure from his father to study pre-law. He didn’t like it.”
“Dropping out isn’t any way to solve a problem,” Nancy said.
“Maybe there was more to it. I only knew him through Angie, and she and I weren’t really close until we began sharing the apartment this summer.”
By the time they finished eating, they were both chilled by the wind. “Let’s climb down to the beach another time, Barb,” Nancy said. “I’d like to talk to D.J. right now.”
“Fine with me,” Barb said, packing up their litter. “Besides, this wind must be blowing close to thirty knots. It’ll be more fun on a calm day.”
They mounted their mopeds and headed north. Soon after they passed a large lake called Fresh Pond, Barb turned into an unpaved driveway and Nancy followed her up a steep hill to a huge house under construction. Perched on one of the highest spots on the island, it overlooked rolling fields, ponds, and the sea beyond.
They parked next to a small trailer that Barb explained served as D.J.’s temporary office.
As Nancy turned off her moped, she spotted Scott Winchester coming out the front door. “I think it’s great that D.J. is building the congressman’s house,” she said to Barb.
“Yes, it’s the best commission he’s had in a long time. It’s an incredible house—everything is custom designed and built by hand, even ordinary things like the window frames.” She turned and shouted, “Hey, D.J.!”
D.J. was standing, staring up at the roof. When he saw Barb, he waved. “Be with you in a minute! No, Hank, not that way,” he yelled to a short, dark-haired man. “Try it from the other side.”
The carpenters were all busy, struggling in the strong wind to fasten huge blue tarps over the only partially roofed house before the storm hit. Scott strode around the site, making suggestions and lending a hand here and there. D.J. kept throwing him angry glances. It was obvious he resented Scott’s interference, but Scott didn’t seem to notice.
As Nancy and Barb joined D.J., Scott checked his watch and joined them. “Divott, I figure we’ll still have an hour or so once the tarps are in place. How about installing the sliding glass doors before we call it quits for the day?”
“It’s too late and windy to start that project now,” D.J. said crisply.
“But my father wanted—” Scott began.
“I don’t care. I’m in charge here and I say it can’t be done,” D.J. snapped.
Scott shrugged and took off, frowning.
Just then a red sports car zoomed up the driveway. Walt Winchester was at the wheel. As he got out, Scott went over to him.
D.J. watched them and said to Barb, “I ought to walk out on this job. I would, too, except Winchester would sue my socks off if I tried.”
Barb shrugged, then smiled. “Do you have a minute? Nancy has a couple of questions to ask you.”
D.J. seemed ready to refuse, then he sighed and said, “Okay, but only a minute.” He glanced around to make sure nobody could overhear them.
“Tom worked with you, on and off, until the end of June, is that right?” Nancy asked.
“Yeah, when he wasn’t working on a boat. He liked them better than houses.”
“Is that why he stopped working for you? He found a job on a boat?”
“Not exactly,” D.J. said suspiciously. “Why are you asking?”
“I was just curious,” Nancy said casually. “I understand he was spending quite a bit of money this summer and I wondered what he was doing to earn it.”
“It’s none of your business,” D.J. said coldly.
Nancy said, “I’m only asking because—”
“I don’t care why you’re asking!” D.J. hissed. “Leave Tom alone! He’s dead!”
“But—”
“Look, I never ratted on Tom while he was alive and I’m sure not going to start now!” he shouted. “I don’t care if you are a detective! You keep your nose out of this!” He stalked off.
Nancy turned to get Barb’s reaction and realized the Winchesters were standing nearby. Had they overheard D.J.’s last words?
“Miss Drew, we meet again,” Walt Winchester said courteously.
“Hello, Congressman. Do you know Barb Sommers?” Nancy said.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Sommers.” He shook her hand.
“You’re building a beautiful house, Mr. Winchester,” Barb said. “And what a terrific view you’ll have.”
“Thank you. We’re pleased with it,” he said.
“Dad,” Scott said, “I’ve got to leave. I, uh, I’m supposed to meet someone about the, uh, plumbing fixtures.”
“Okay,” his father said. “When you get back to the boat later, check the extra anchor to make sure it’s holding. If the wind shifts, you’ll have to adjust the angle.”
“All right.” Scott went over to speak to a worker, then took off on his moped.
“Well, I’d better make sure the house is battened down as well as the boat. Please excuse me.” Winchester left to inspect his property.
“Well, now what?” Barb said to Nancy.
“Do you think if we stay a little longer D.J. will calm down and talk to me?” Nancy asked.
Barb shrugged. “I don’t know. We can only try.”
Half an hour later D.J. dismissed the work crew, but when Barb approached him, he stalked off, obviously still angry.
Nancy started up her moped. “I’ve been thinking. I’m sure the key to this case has to be the money Tom was flashing around this summer.”
“You think it’s connected with his death?” Barb asked as she adjusted her helmet strap.
“If we find the source of the money, we’ll know what he was up to. That may tell us why someone wanted to kill him. You’ve got to work on D.J., Barb. Get him to talk to me.”
“I’ll try.” She revved her engine. “Ready?”
Nancy nodded and they started back to town. Clouds rolled across the sun, dark and ominous, but her mind was so preoccupied with the case, Nancy hardly noticed. She was convinced that D.J. knew how Tom
had been getting his money. If she could only get him to talk to her, that information might lead her to the killer.
They were rounding a curve when Nancy heard the roar of a motorcycle behind them. She moved over to give it room to pass.
Seconds later she felt a tremendous jolt and thud against the back of her moped. The bike leapt sideways and Nancy was thrown off it and into the air!
Chapter
Seven
REMEMBERING HER JUDO TRAINING, Nancy tucked her head, wrapped her arms around her chest, and relaxed her muscles. She hit hard on her right shoulder at the grassy edge of the road. The force of the impact sent her rolling down an embankment.
At last she came to a halt, stopped by a thick hedge of wild blackberry bushes. The thorns scratched through her thin windbreaker and clung to her as she tried to pull away. She stopped fighting and lay still for a moment, catching her breath.
“Nancy!” Barb ran down the embankment. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said calmly. “Except I’m being attacked by a bush.”
“How can you joke at a time like this?” Barb knelt down and began to pull the thorns from Nancy’s clothes.
As soon as she was free, Nancy slid away from the hedge and sat up slowly. “No broken bones, just a few bruises. I’m glad I was wearing a helmet. Did you get a look at that motorcycle?”
“Only a glimpse, but I’m sure I’d recognize it if I saw it again,” Barb said. “It was black, with a yellow streak of lightning painted on the side. I couldn’t see the driver’s face, because he was wearing a dark helmet visor.”
Nancy stood up. “Is my moped wrecked?”
“I didn’t stop to check. Are you sure you can walk?” Barb asked anxiously.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Nancy said. “Come on, let’s go. I want to find the idiot who hit me.”
When they found Nancy’s moped, it was lying on its side, still running, the rear wheel spinning uselessly. They checked it over. It was dented and scraped but still rideable.
“Let’s head for town,” Nancy said. “That’s the most likely place he’d go, to try to lose himself in a crowd.”