The big man—Rex—chuckled. “If you can wait while I go to my truck, I might have a solution.”
* * *
Maddie and Francine sat on aged Adirondack chairs—one might have once been painted green, the other white or yellow—in the backyard. The kids were parked on an old beach towel that Maddie dug out of the linen closet; Reggie was watching his big sister playing with Maddie’s yarn dolls that she’d brought outside.
“Just like Grandma Claire’s!” Bella had exclaimed when she saw them. Francine explained that Bella’s grandma had presented a few to Bella a while ago.
“They’re her favorites,” she added.
With a tiny twinge, Maddie wondered if Nancy had taught Bella’s grandma how to make them.
Rex had returned with a toolkit and was kneeling at the door to the shed.
“He knows how to do everything,” Francine said. “He owns the Lord James restaurant in Edgartown. He always says, ‘When you own a restaurant, you have to be a jack of every trade known to man. And then some.’” She tried unsuccessfully to mimic Rex’s deep voice and then laughed. “I didn’t know that included breaking into padlocks.”
Maddie was enjoying the company. “It won’t be the end of the world if he can’t, but I’ll be selling the property—”
“Really? You’re going to sell?” Francine looked bewildered.
Taken aback, Maddie did not know what to say. “Well, I . . . I mean, well, Green Hills is a long trip.... I teach at the college there—”
“I’m so sorry,” Francine interrupted. She sheepishly lowered her dark eyes—the color of which mirrored her little girl’s. “It’s none of my business. Sometimes we islanders get too cozy.”
Maddie smiled. “It’s fine. I don’t mind. The truth is, I haven’t been on the Vineyard in decades, and I thought my grandmother died years ago.”
“Really?”
Maddie nodded. “I hadn’t seen her since I was five. My memory of her—and of this place—is vague.”
“I understand. But I’m sorry. It’s just that I was surprised when you said you’re going to sell. Sometimes people who inherit property here are overjoyed. Even if they can come only for vacations.”
“I also have a son who lives in Green Hills. And a father who’s getting older.”
Then the sound of metal splitting startled them both.
“Got it!” Rex exclaimed.
If it weren’t for her cast, Maddie might have jumped up and hugged him.
“Wonderful!” she cried. Even with Francine’s help, it took a couple of minutes for her to get up off the Adirondack. Then, bolstered by the crutches, she walked up to him.
He was eyeing the shed. “I don’t know why Nancy bothered with a padlock when one good swing of a ball-peen hammer would bring this place down.” He unhooked the remnants of the lock. “Want me to open it?”
“Sure. Please.”
Francine stayed by the chairs, monitoring her kids.
After a couple of tugs, the rusty latch ended up in Rex’s hand, and the door flopped open. In spite of the sunshine outside, the inside was dark. The cardboard over the only window didn’t help.
Grabbing a flashlight—again, from his toolkit—Rex directed the beam from one corner to the other, from top to bottom. Nothing was there. Not a carton, not a barrel, not even a mouse.
“How strange,” Maddie said. “Why would she have locked an empty shed?”
“Good question,” Rex replied. The two of them remained standing, peering inside, as if any second something would appear.
“Something wrong?” Francine called over to them.
“Something wrong?” little Bella echoed, as she set down Maddie’s dolls.
