Clam Wake by Mary Daheim

supposed to be a vote on whether a sewer system should replace the current septic tanks. Before they could do that, there were some people who felt they didn’t have enough information to cast an intelligent vote.”
    â€œOr,” Renie put in, “they didn’t have enough intelligence, period. All hell broke loose.”
    Jacobson sat up straight again. “In what way?”
    â€œArguing and shouting,” Judith replied. “I think one woman may’ve fainted. Then the chairperson—Hank Hilderschmidt—adjourned the meeting. Sort of, that is. He tossed his gavel and walked out. Everybody headed for the exits.”
    â€œI see.” The deputy frowned. “Then it had nothing to do with Ernest Glover’s death. I thought they might have canceled the meeting, given the circumstances.”
    Judith realized that Jacobson found the Obsession Shores residents’ behavior odd. “Hank did ask for a moment of silence in Mr. Glover’s memory.”
    â€œIn a half-assed way,” Renie said. “I’m using our aunt’s terminology here. A less obscene version thereof, by the way.”
    Jacobson evinced mild interest in the comment. “Are you insinuating that Mr. Hilderschmidt didn’t like Mr. Glover—or that the deceased wasn’t well liked in general?”
    Renie glanced at Judith. “You answer that one, coz,” she said. “You’re a better people person than I am.”
    Judith frowned. “It’s hard to say. We were near the back. Renie and I don’t know these people, except for the Sedgewicks and the Friedmans. A few others have been pointed out to us over the years, including Mr. Glover. But that’s it.”
    The deputy again nodded before looking at the few notes he’d jotted down. “Can you be more precise about when you returned here?”
    Judith turned to Renie. “Maybe a little before seven thirty? We were sort of in the middle of the pack going out the main door. Some of the others went out the rear exit where Hank Hilderschmidt had gone. Oh! I see what you mean. It’s unlikely that anyone attending the meeting could also have come here to leave the note.”
    â€œNo,” Jacobson said. “It’s quite possible. There was enough time for someone who was at the meeting to have gotten here before you did. In fact, whoever left that note might still have been inside the house when you arrived and went out the other door at the end of the house.”
    On that chilling note, Judith changed the subject. “Did you ever find the weapon?”
    He shook his head. “It may have been thrown into the water or buried in the sand some distance away.”
    Judith decided to press her luck. “Have you been able to figure out what kind of weapon was used? That is, from the entry of the stab wounds.”
    â€œSomething sharp,” Jacobson replied, looking grim. “Pointed and tapering to a width of at least five inches.”
    Before Judith could say anything else, he stood up and announced he was taking his leave. But first he produced two padlocks with keys. “It’s not safe for you to be unable to secure the house. Given our preliminary investigation, you’re free to leave Obsession Shores tomorrow. I don’t need to remind you there’s a murderer on the loose. Of course,” he went on, moving to the door, “I have the impression you’re both aware of the danger this sort of situation can present.”
    Judith and Renie nodded. There really was nothing more to say. When it came to murder, “been there and done that” was too glib. The cousins realized they’d been very lucky over the years. But luck had a way of running in streaks. Eventually it always ran out.

Chapter 7
    W ell,” Renie said after Jacobson was gone, “when do you start grilling suspects? It’s too foggy to go door-to-door.”
    â€œI told you, I