A few miles up the road from the center of town, the Black Dog’s lot was crowded. Maddie squeezed the Volvo half into a space, half onto the grass, a maneuver she’d picked up from watching summer drivers.
With the holiday crunch now over, the restaurant was filled with islanders in off-season flannels and jeans. Luckily, two people were about to leave their table, so Maddie quickly claimed it. Grandma said the place had had a makeover, and that she liked the old way better, when the tables were often lopsided and the chairs uncomfortable, but you could order just a coffee and sit for hours reading a newspaper that someone before you left.
She ended by grumbling, “It’s too nice in here now.”
As they waited for their food (Grandma asked for a grilledcheese sandwich off the kids’ menu, and Maddie ordered a bowl of chowder), Grandma scanned the place.
“Dottie Granger’s over by the window,” she said too loudly. “I was in school with her mother, who the world hasn’t missed since she dropped dead feeding her chickens.”
“Grandma,” Maddie shushed her, “people will hear you.”
Grandma shrugged. “Nobody listens to an old lady.” She scanned again. “Over there? The last seat at the bar? That’s Gil Martin’s son, Henry. Gets his personality from his mother.”
Maddie had no idea who Gil Martin or his son, Henry, were, or if the mention of his mother’s personality was a compliment, though knowing Grandma, that was doubtful.
Then a white-haired man dressed in tan canvas pants and a yellow slicker began to pass their table, then he stopped. “Nancy?”
Grandma blinked.
“It’s me. George Landers.”
Glancing at Maddie, Grandma said, “George Landers is the medical examiner who lives on the Cape in Sandwich now. We almost needed him last summer, didn’t we?” She turned to George and laughed. “This is my daughter, Maddie.”
Maddie wasn’t sure if she should correct Grandma about their family tree, but opted to simply smile at George, who grinned as if he understood the error.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
“You, too,” Maddie said. “And I’m glad we haven’t needed you so far.”
“Somebody must have,” Grandma interrupted. “Otherwise, why are you on the island?”
“Happily, it’s not for business. Stripers are still biting. Caught a couple yesterday at Dogfish. Off Ken’s boat.”
Nancy raised one eyebrow and looked back to Maddie. “Dogfish Bar is on the other side of our harbor, past LobstervilleBeach,” she said, as if Maddie needed a lesson. “Ken Lawrence is our up-island constable.”
Maddie felt a small tug in her stomach. She remembered Grandma had considered calling Ken last October when she thought Maddie had vanished, but was canoodling with Rex. She almost laughed that she thought of that word:canoodling. It must be as old as Grandma, which didn’t seem much older than George-the-medical-examiner.
Tuning out Grandma’s chatter, Maddie wondered if she should follow George to the table where Police Chief Ken, aka the constable, might be sitting. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if she pulled up a chair and told him about the potentially threatening notes that she’d received. But Maddie could not be that forward, especially since the man was there for lunch with a friend. Still, she’d fuse the name Ken Lawrence to her brain, in case another note was waiting on the front steps at the cottage.
By the time their food arrived, she was tired of thinking.
Chapter 13
Maddie parked in the small space at the top of the hill in the backyard. She told herself it would be easier for Grandma to walk down the gradual slope to the back door, when, in fact, she’d decided to avoid the front steps.
As they made their way to the cottage, a sharp January wind spun up from the harbor, no doubt making the swordfish harpooner shiver in his sculpture, in spite of the red hat that a brave someone had dared to climb up and adorn him with for the holidays. Maddie put her arm around Grandma’s shoulders, trying to keep her steady.
Once safely inside, Maddie quickly arranged new logs in the fireplace and lit them; Grandma stood near the flames, rubbing her palms together.
“So Rex is off to California?” she asked.
Maddie could have done without that reminder. “Yes.” Attempting to avoid further conversation about Rex, she removed her jacket, hung it in the closet, and started to make tea.
“I wonder if that woman Annie Sutton will come back with them,” Grandma continued. “I always thought the two of them had something going, if you catch my drift.”
Maddie plunked the kettle on the stove, a wee bit harderthan necessary. She did not, however, take Grandma Nancy’s bait.
“She was engaged to that Edgartown policeman,” Grandma went on. “But I’m not sure if the wedding ever happened.” Having seen people she knew at the café must have stimulated an underlying need for gossip.
