“I took my manicure scissors out of my purse; they’re in my pocket. We’ll use them to clip the tape.”
“Um. Okay. But what about the cop? Will we get in trouble if he catches us?”
“Doubtful. He’s around front, right?”
“Yup. Sitting on a chair.”
“Good. Even so, if my grandmother really was dead, the cottage would be mine, so we won’t really be trespassing.” She smiled. She wondered if she, the spinster college professor, had become a younger version of Miss Marple. “Come on,” she said, keeping her voice low, “let’s go before I chicken out.”
They went down the hill, one tentative footstep at a time, until they reached the back door, or, as Rafe had said, where the back door used to be. Maddie took out the clippers; it took three tries for the red strip to split, fall to the sides, and allow them easy access.
“Phone,” she whispered, and held out her hand.
Rafe handed it over, beam side down.
She refused to think about the germs that might be on the case and clenched it between her teeth.
With the light directed at her feet, Maddie moved one crutch then the other over the doorjamb and onto the kitchen floor. So far, so good. Until she breathed in an ugly odor of ashes. Closing her eyes, she struggled to call up her resolve. Then she thought about the wildflowers her mother had loved to pick when they were there, fragrant summer blossoms of Clerodendrum and echinacea and summer sweet. Like the wildflowers in Evelyn’s meadow.
The odor dwindled.
Maddie opened her eyes again, and, with a slight pivot back to Rafe, gestured for him to take the phone out of her mouth. But as he removed it and held the flashlight up so they could see into the room, something big was in the way. Rex.
* * *
Maddie screamed. She nearly dropped the crutches; Rafe quickly grabbed them.
“What took you so long?” Rex asked. “Did you come by way of Edgartown?”
“How . . . ?” Maddie asked, trying to catch her breath. “How did you know we’d be here?”
Rex smiled. “I have psychic gifts.”
She might have believed him until Rafe said, “I think he followed us, Mom. A couple of times I saw headlights in the mirror.” He looked at Rex. “That was you, right?”
“You didn’t really think I’d sleep through the two of you sneaking out of my house, did you?”
“Why are you still up-island, anyway?” Maddie snipped. “Don’t you have a restaurant to run?”
“I’ve learned that when you have a good staff, you don’t have to hover over them.”
“But . . . how did you get in? I had to cut the red tape. . . .” She was stalling, trying to dream up her next move while she spoke.
“I know the cop at the front door.”
She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“So,” Rex continued, “do you mind telling me what you plan to do here?”
Then an idea gelled; if she were honest, maybe it would work. “As a matter of fact, I do not mind telling you. But first, I need you to wait here. Both of you. If you hear a crash, come get me. Otherwise, please respect my privacy for a few minutes.” She wanted Rafe to accompany her, but not Rex. Maybe he’d be less offended if she left them together, standing where the back door used to be. She snatched the phone/ flashlight back from Rafe.
Rex shook his head, not as in saying no, but as expressing that she bewildered him.
“Are you sure, Mom?” Rafe asked, but she chose not to reply. By then the flashlight was between her teeth again, and she was halfway to the small hallway that led to the bedrooms.
When she reached the back bedroom that had been her mother’s, Maddie stopped and recharged. Then she went inside, one crutch after another. She made it to the closet where her mother’s belongings once had been; she stood her crutches against the wall and went inside. And slowly, ever so slowly, she scrunched down and opened the tiny door that led into her hobbit house.
Chapter 32
