the poachers don't have a clue whose traps they're pillaging. They don't know me from Adam. But I can't help but feel they've violated me somehow."
"Could it just be a lean season, Cass?" Izzy gathered skeins of periwinkle, celery, and sky-blue cashmere from a shipping box. She slipped them into small cubicles.
"No. Folks farther north have been hauling in plenty of keepers, and my bait bags are empty, so someone's been visiting the traps. But it's not just that. I know when my traps have been fiddled with, even if lobsters haven't been in them. Just like you'd know, Izzy, if someone came in here during the night and messed with your yarn. Someone is definitely doing bad things out at the breakwater. And I swear I'm going to make them wish they hadn't."
Nell's fingers played with the smooth finish of the needles. "Cass--this is a hard time. Finding Angie the way you did was awful. And the loss of lobsters--of income--on top of it. But the police will figure it out soon."
Cass managed a smile. "Maybe. But it's not a pleasant place to be right now."
Nell could only imagine. The image of Angie had stayed with her all week, and she hadn't seen it directly, only through Cass's words and the endless replays in the news.
"Maybe it's selfish to be worrying about my own problems," Cass went on, "but if I don't start selling lobsters soon, I'll have to throw in the towel. But what else would I do?" Her voice cracked with uncharacteristic emotion. "This is what I love. You two know that. This is what I do."
Nell slipped an arm around the younger woman's shoulders and felt the worry in Cass's frame. Being out on the water, driving the boat she had spent her life savings on, was truly Cass's life. She had allowed Birdie, Nell, and Ben to invest a little in the Lady Lobster, but she was already well on the way to paying it back with fresh fish and lobster--and cash when the haulings were good. They'd get back every penny, whether they wanted it or not. Nell knew that.
"If there's any crime around here that people won't tolerate, it's poaching, Cass," Izzy said. "The thing is, I think Angie's death has put other things on the back burner, but now that the funeral is over--"
"Is Angie Archer going to dominate our whole summer?" Cass blurted out.
Her abrupt tone jarred Nell and Izzy.
"Sorry," Cass said just as quickly. "That was awful of me. But you can't walk into Coffee's or get a bagel at Harry's Deli without being served up the latest gossip about Angie's life. And people look at me as if I'm somehow connected to it. Let the dead rest in peace. Isn't that what the good padre says?"
"Her funeral was just two days ago," Izzy said. "Angie grew up here--people are bound to talk about it, Cass. This isn't like you. What's wrong?"
Cass seemed to give the question serious thought. Finally, she said, "I think I resent her. I didn't trust Angie Archer in life, and I don't trust her much in death."
"Because of Pete," Nell said.
"Sure, because of Pete. He's a mess--I don't think he said three words to me on the boat today. A week ago he was bothered to the core about the poachers, but he doesn't seem to care anymore. And who knows, maybe he was just a plaything for Angie. But it's more than that. I may be silly, but Angie had a bad aura about her. She was kind of secretive."
Izzy uncurled herself from the floor. "She didn't talk about herself much, is all."
"Some people are like that," Nell said. "I suppose we all have secrets of one sort or another. But I've known Angie nearly her whole life, Cass. And I don't think she would have intentionally hurt Pete."
Cass shrugged. "Maybe you're right, Nell. Maybe I'm blaming Angie for the black cloud over my lobster traps. I just wish she'd picked somewhere else to go swimming that night."
Izzy brushed sand off her jeans and bent over to pick up the empty shipping box. She straightened up. "Let's face it. Angie wasn't swimming. Not in those fancy boots she spent two months' salary on. We
"Could it just be a lean season, Cass?" Izzy gathered skeins of periwinkle, celery, and sky-blue cashmere from a shipping box. She slipped them into small cubicles.
"No. Folks farther north have been hauling in plenty of keepers, and my bait bags are empty, so someone's been visiting the traps. But it's not just that. I know when my traps have been fiddled with, even if lobsters haven't been in them. Just like you'd know, Izzy, if someone came in here during the night and messed with your yarn. Someone is definitely doing bad things out at the breakwater. And I swear I'm going to make them wish they hadn't."
Nell's fingers played with the smooth finish of the needles. "Cass--this is a hard time. Finding Angie the way you did was awful. And the loss of lobsters--of income--on top of it. But the police will figure it out soon."
Cass managed a smile. "Maybe. But it's not a pleasant place to be right now."
Nell could only imagine. The image of Angie had stayed with her all week, and she hadn't seen it directly, only through Cass's words and the endless replays in the news.
"Maybe it's selfish to be worrying about my own problems," Cass went on, "but if I don't start selling lobsters soon, I'll have to throw in the towel. But what else would I do?" Her voice cracked with uncharacteristic emotion. "This is what I love. You two know that. This is what I do."
Nell slipped an arm around the younger woman's shoulders and felt the worry in Cass's frame. Being out on the water, driving the boat she had spent her life savings on, was truly Cass's life. She had allowed Birdie, Nell, and Ben to invest a little in the Lady Lobster, but she was already well on the way to paying it back with fresh fish and lobster--and cash when the haulings were good. They'd get back every penny, whether they wanted it or not. Nell knew that.
"If there's any crime around here that people won't tolerate, it's poaching, Cass," Izzy said. "The thing is, I think Angie's death has put other things on the back burner, but now that the funeral is over--"
"Is Angie Archer going to dominate our whole summer?" Cass blurted out.
Her abrupt tone jarred Nell and Izzy.
"Sorry," Cass said just as quickly. "That was awful of me. But you can't walk into Coffee's or get a bagel at Harry's Deli without being served up the latest gossip about Angie's life. And people look at me as if I'm somehow connected to it. Let the dead rest in peace. Isn't that what the good padre says?"
"Her funeral was just two days ago," Izzy said. "Angie grew up here--people are bound to talk about it, Cass. This isn't like you. What's wrong?"
Cass seemed to give the question serious thought. Finally, she said, "I think I resent her. I didn't trust Angie Archer in life, and I don't trust her much in death."
"Because of Pete," Nell said.
"Sure, because of Pete. He's a mess--I don't think he said three words to me on the boat today. A week ago he was bothered to the core about the poachers, but he doesn't seem to care anymore. And who knows, maybe he was just a plaything for Angie. But it's more than that. I may be silly, but Angie had a bad aura about her. She was kind of secretive."
Izzy uncurled herself from the floor. "She didn't talk about herself much, is all."
"Some people are like that," Nell said. "I suppose we all have secrets of one sort or another. But I've known Angie nearly her whole life, Cass. And I don't think she would have intentionally hurt Pete."
Cass shrugged. "Maybe you're right, Nell. Maybe I'm blaming Angie for the black cloud over my lobster traps. I just wish she'd picked somewhere else to go swimming that night."
Izzy brushed sand off her jeans and bent over to pick up the empty shipping box. She straightened up. "Let's face it. Angie wasn't swimming. Not in those fancy boots she spent two months' salary on. We
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