whipped the cart in that direction and Claire’s knuckles turned white as she grasped onto the metal safety bar to keep from being flung off. She reached out and grabbed the back of Mae’s apron to keep her from sliding out. The cart screeched to a halt and the four of them jumped off.
Zambuco scowled at them. “What are you people doing here?”
“We’re here to help Tom,” Claire said. “What’s going on?”
Zambuco pointed to a hole in the ground. “Your friend here had a motive to want Blunt dead. We heard he was in Duffy’s the night Blunt was killed. We came up to ask a few questions and caught him burying the murder weapon.”
Claire looked into the empty hole, her stomach sinking. Tom did have a motive. Blunt was trying to take his farm. And Emile had mentioned that Tom was in the bar that night. Tom had also been at the scene of the crime that morning with the Crab Festival committee. Claire remembered him dropping his clipboard. Had he dropped it on purpose so he could pick up a piece of evidence he'd left behind the night before?
“The murder weapon? What do you mean?” Norma demanded. "I thought Blunt was strangled."
"Bludgeoned and strangled," Zambuco said. "Technically, the strangling did him in."
Claire’s eyes flicked up to Tom’s face. She didn’t see the face of a killer. She saw the face of a very scared and worried man. Tom’s body language and demeanor was not like that of any murderer she’d caught so far. She was sure Tom wasn’t the one. But if he wasn’t, then why was he burying the murder weapon? Maybe what he was burying wasn’t the murder weapon and this was all a mistake.
“We don’t know if he did it alone. He might be in cahoots with your friend here.” Zambuco nodded toward Mae.
“Well … well … well … I …” Mae huffed.
Norma snorted. “In cahoots? Why, the two of them have hardly said a nice word to each other in over seventy years. I doubt they’d combine forces now to kill somebody. And where is this supposed murder weapon, anyway?”
“It’s not actually the whole murder weapon,” Robby chimed in. “It’s just part of it.”
He held up a plastic bag that had a thick metal piece inside. It was silver in color and, if Claire wasn’t mistaken, that dark stain on the jagged edge was blood. But was it Blunt’s blood?
Robby turned the bag around to show the other side and something niggled in Claire’s brain. The piece looked like the same shape of the imprint that had been found in the dirt by the crime scene—the crab claw holding something jagged. Claire now recognized what that jagged something was. It was part of the outline of Mooseamuck Island.
“What the heck is that?” Norma asked.
Mae gasped, and her wide eyes never left the bag as she said, “It’s a Crabby . I have one right at my house.”
----
Z ambuco wanted to see Mae's Crabby, so they all headed over to Mae’s house.
As they were getting out of their various cars and golf carts, a shiny, new Volvo pulled in. Claire was surprised to see Jane step out and hurry over.
Claire’s eyes flicked from her friend to the car. For the past fifteen years, Jane had driven an old station wagon with wood-grained sides. It must have finally given out, but this new car seemed expensive for Jane’s modest salary. It wasn’t a Mercedes, or a BMW, but it was brand new. Then again, what did Claire know? Maybe Jane had been saving up, knowing that her wagon was on its last legs.
“What’s this? Is the whole town going to show up now?” Zambuco’s voice complained even though his face seemed to indicate he was happy to see Jane. “Do you people have some sort of a telepathic grapevine?”
“No,” Jane said. “I happened to be driving to Tom’s farm for some goat’s milk and I noticed the commotion here. Naturally, I pulled in to see what was going on.”
“New car?” Claire asked.
Jane waved her hand at the car dismissively. “My old clunker finally died and I had to
Zambuco scowled at them. “What are you people doing here?”
“We’re here to help Tom,” Claire said. “What’s going on?”
Zambuco pointed to a hole in the ground. “Your friend here had a motive to want Blunt dead. We heard he was in Duffy’s the night Blunt was killed. We came up to ask a few questions and caught him burying the murder weapon.”
Claire looked into the empty hole, her stomach sinking. Tom did have a motive. Blunt was trying to take his farm. And Emile had mentioned that Tom was in the bar that night. Tom had also been at the scene of the crime that morning with the Crab Festival committee. Claire remembered him dropping his clipboard. Had he dropped it on purpose so he could pick up a piece of evidence he'd left behind the night before?
“The murder weapon? What do you mean?” Norma demanded. "I thought Blunt was strangled."
"Bludgeoned and strangled," Zambuco said. "Technically, the strangling did him in."
Claire’s eyes flicked up to Tom’s face. She didn’t see the face of a killer. She saw the face of a very scared and worried man. Tom’s body language and demeanor was not like that of any murderer she’d caught so far. She was sure Tom wasn’t the one. But if he wasn’t, then why was he burying the murder weapon? Maybe what he was burying wasn’t the murder weapon and this was all a mistake.
“We don’t know if he did it alone. He might be in cahoots with your friend here.” Zambuco nodded toward Mae.
“Well … well … well … I …” Mae huffed.
Norma snorted. “In cahoots? Why, the two of them have hardly said a nice word to each other in over seventy years. I doubt they’d combine forces now to kill somebody. And where is this supposed murder weapon, anyway?”
“It’s not actually the whole murder weapon,” Robby chimed in. “It’s just part of it.”
He held up a plastic bag that had a thick metal piece inside. It was silver in color and, if Claire wasn’t mistaken, that dark stain on the jagged edge was blood. But was it Blunt’s blood?
Robby turned the bag around to show the other side and something niggled in Claire’s brain. The piece looked like the same shape of the imprint that had been found in the dirt by the crime scene—the crab claw holding something jagged. Claire now recognized what that jagged something was. It was part of the outline of Mooseamuck Island.
“What the heck is that?” Norma asked.
Mae gasped, and her wide eyes never left the bag as she said, “It’s a Crabby . I have one right at my house.”
----
Z ambuco wanted to see Mae's Crabby, so they all headed over to Mae’s house.
As they were getting out of their various cars and golf carts, a shiny, new Volvo pulled in. Claire was surprised to see Jane step out and hurry over.
Claire’s eyes flicked from her friend to the car. For the past fifteen years, Jane had driven an old station wagon with wood-grained sides. It must have finally given out, but this new car seemed expensive for Jane’s modest salary. It wasn’t a Mercedes, or a BMW, but it was brand new. Then again, what did Claire know? Maybe Jane had been saving up, knowing that her wagon was on its last legs.
“What’s this? Is the whole town going to show up now?” Zambuco’s voice complained even though his face seemed to indicate he was happy to see Jane. “Do you people have some sort of a telepathic grapevine?”
“No,” Jane said. “I happened to be driving to Tom’s farm for some goat’s milk and I noticed the commotion here. Naturally, I pulled in to see what was going on.”
“New car?” Claire asked.
Jane waved her hand at the car dismissively. “My old clunker finally died and I had to
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