“Have a great time.” Claire handed him the bag. “I put an extra biscuit in for Dooley.”
“Thank you.” Sam almost smiled as he took the bag and shuffled out the door.
Claire watched him unhook the dog and start down the street. Dooley had been a gift from Sam’s son, Brad. He’d thought taking care of a dog would give Sam a purpose, but watching the two of them and the way Dooley obviously slowed himself down to keep pace with Sam and kept glancing up at the man, she had a feeling it was really Dooley taking care of Sam.
As she watched them disappear down the street, another person caught her eye. Wasn’t that the strange man from Tides?
She craned her neck to look closer. Yes, it was Mr. Smith. Kind of a weirdo, really. Bunny had said he’d been lurking in the hallway during the book club meeting. Claire wasn’t so sure she believed that, but he was an odd one. Not very friendly, according to Jane.
He was walking down the sidewalk with a purpose, not at all like a tourist on vacation. She wondered where he was in such a hurry to get to.
* * *
Bunny had stayed up late, thinking about Mr. Smith and how she should go about figuring out exactly what he was up to. She decided to do what the amateur sleuth in her mystery book would do: follow him.
She’d risen at the crack of dawn. The lack of sleep and early wake-up time didn’t make her tired. In fact, the opposite had happened. The prospect of investigating something revitalized her and gave her energy.
She’d had to skip her morning painting session. She hated to do that. Painting was important to her, but this took precedence. She also hadn’t been able to bring muffins over to Liz like she did four or five times a week. That was okay—she’d do that later this afternoon so she could pump Liz for more information about Smith.
She filled a thermos with coffee and drove past Tides before stopping a little ways down the street from the entrance. She parked under a low-hanging oak tree branch, hoping her car would blend in.
Unlike in the book, Mr. Smith did not zip right out of the entrance as soon as Bunny parked. She waited a few hours and was just about to give up when a car pulled out with Mr. Smith at the wheel.Bingo!
She followed several car lengths behind, just like the detective in the book. When he pulled into a spot downtown, Bunny pulled in a few spots away. At first she was nervous. There weren’t many people out at eight forty-five, unless she counted the gang over at Sandcastles getting their morning coffees and Danishes. She was afraid Mr. Smith would notice her, but he didn’t even glance in her direction as he locked his car.Who locks their car in Lobster Bay?
No one did. In Bunny’s mind, that was further proof that he was of a suspicious nature and up to something.
He started down the sidewalk along the row of stores. She scrunched down in the seat and opened the newspaper she’d brought as a disguise. She slid it up to cover the bottom of her face, peeking up above it through her large-framed sunglasses every so often to keep her eye on the suspect.
Mr. Smith walked past the candy store with its pink-and-green awning and pyramids of fudge in the window, past the framing store where she’d had her ancestor’s Civil War discharge papers that Andie had given her framed, past the jewelry store with its display of diamonds twinkling in elegant deep-purple velvet, and straight into the hardware store.Very curious.
About twenty minutes later, he came out holding a large bag. Bunny scrunched out of sight again as he made a beeline for his car. He was walking fast and acting almost as if he didn’t want anyone to see him. Or was that her imagination?
As far as she knew, the hardware store only had tools and home improvement items.What in the world would someone vacationing at an inn need with home improvement items or tools?
She was about to pull out after him when she noticed the hunched-over man and his dog lurking around her car. Was he watching her?
She craned her neck to look at him in the side-view mirror. No, he wasn’t watching her. The dog had just stopped to sniff something. But she didn’t want to draw attention to herself, so she stayed put until they lumbered of toward Beach Street.
Luckily, she could still see Mr. Smith’s car going slowly down Main Street. She pulled out, taking care to stay far enough behind, excitement thrumming in her veins. She was really on to something. And she was the only one who suspected him. With any luck, she could catch him before he did any harm and save someone from a terrible fate.How’s that for being useful!
But it wasn’t going to be today, because he went straight back to Tides.
Bunny drove past and took the back route home. Maybe she could still catch Liz at home and ask her some questions about the suspect. Besides, she’d finished off almost the whole thermos of coffee and really had to pee.
* * *
“She gave me an extra biscuit for you,” Sam said to Dooley.
He’d been doing that a lot lately—talking out loud to the dog. Funny thing, he almost felt like the dog was answering using some sort of silent communication technique. Like right now, he was looking up at Sam, one floppy ear tilted slightly and an eager look in his eye as if asking if he could have one of them now.
“Maybe when we get to the beach. We’ll drive down to the lot if you don’t mind.” It was only a ten-minute walk to the beach, but this time of year, the parking lot would be empty, and Sam hadn’t walked that long in a while.
He felt a pang of guilt, knowing Dooley was dying for a longer walk, but Sam usually ran out of energy and enthusiasm after a few blocks. He was working his way up to it for Dooley’s sake, though. And maybe a little for Jean too. She was the one who’d always insisted they walk one more block or to the next corner on the Marginal Way or just a little farther down the beach. She’d said it would help them live longer. It hadn’t worked out so well for her. She wouldn’t approve of Sam’s lack of walking, but maybe he didn’t want to live longer.
Dooley whined, as if sensing Sam’s thoughts.
“Ah, don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone.”
