It’s Founder’s Day in Busman’s Harbor, Maine, and the tourists are coming out in force. One of the featured attractions of events like this is the food—especially clams and lobster (that would be “lobstah,” if you want to sound like a local). For Julia Snowden, who has temporarily moved b...
Deborah had lived through two traumatic events, the loss of Dan Johnson in Vietnam and the destruction of her face in a car accident. I had to agree with her assertion that she wasn’t a fragile flower. She seemed like a strong woman who knew who she was, and who’d overcome her challenges to build...
“Cabe?” His name leaped from my lips. Flynn’s certainty Cabe would contact me must have affected me more that I’d realized. “Julia, it’s Pammie.” The kid scheduled to work in our ticket kiosk on the dock today. “I’ve been throwing up all night. I can’t make it to work.” I was usually deeply suspi...
I couldn’t see much, but I could see enough. I knew the route so well it would be easy to slip into mental autopilot when making the trip, always a dangerous thing on the water. I stuck close to the shoreline and listened to the foghorn, bleating its warning from Dinkums Light. I came through the...
I didn’t make any commitment not to get involved, nor did he expect me to. Murder had come straight to our doorstep, over our threshold, and into our home. Of course I would help out any way I could. After we hung up, I sat on our broken-down couch and looked around the apartment. The big window ...