Chapter Six
The January air was brisk, and it was another magnificent day on Westcott Bay. Margie stepped outside, her thick coat wrapped tightly around her, a hot mug of coffee in her hands. It was her second cup of the day – she knew that she shouldn’t, but she was out of hot chocolate and needed something with heft.
She’d finally finished cleaning the house after having all of the kids over for Christmas. It was a grand, marvelous affair. Margie’s eggnog was a hit, as were all of the new recipes she’d debuted – the sesame shrimp pastry puffs, the crab fettuccine, and even the squash and caramelized onion tart.
Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, so much so that no fights broke out – not even a single argument! Margie was glad for that, of course. In a way it made her sad, because it showed how much all of the kids had grown up.
With her two daughters married off, though, she was hopeful there would soon be a new generation of troublemakers coming her way.
“Psst!”
There was a rustling in the trees to the side of the house. Margie narrowed her eyes. It felt like she was being accosted by an odd bird.
“Over here!” said a ragged voice.
Margie walked over, carefully stepping over rocks before finding her friend Claire hiding behind a tree. “Claire! What are you doing back there?”
Claire’s eyes darted left, then right, then back over her shoulder. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“In danger?” Margie repeated before letting out a booming laugh.
Claire shushed her again. “I’m serious! The FBI was looking for me. There might be someone else, too.” She fidgeted with her hands. “Do you have cameras on your property?”
“Do I have cameras…? No! Of course not.”
Claire clenched her hands in front of her chest. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry, Margie.”
“Now hang on,” Margie said, reaching forward to pick a leaf out of Claire’s hair.
Margie knew someone who’d had a nervous breakdown once – a distant relative who wasn’t pleasant even on a good day. It was hard to say for sure, but it seemed like Claire was exhibiting symptoms of something similar.
This just wasn’t Claire’s normal, sweet self. Claire was one of the most level-headed people that Margie knew! When the girls were growing up, Margie would get herself into a tizzy over just about anything, while Claire, with her quiet composure, could always keep her cool.
Something had to be very wrong.
“Why don’t we go inside,” Margie said gently, “and talk this out?”
Claire shook her head. “I can’t. It might be dangerous.”
Margie let out a tut before unzipping her jacket and putting it over Claire’s shoulders. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m married to the chief deputy sheriff, my brother was in the FBI, and it can’t be worse than the time I had a card-carrying member of the mob break into my house.”
Claire raised an eyebrow. “A member of the mob broke into your house?”
“We had a taser,” Margie said, waving a hand. She was long past that sort of excitement in her own life. “It was fine. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Let’s go inside.”
Claire offered her a pained smile before giving into Margie’s grip and walking toward the house.
Once they were inside, Margie made up a mug of coffee with a dollop of cream and sugar for Claire before forcing it into her hands.
“Nowtalk,” Margie said.
Claire let out a sigh before telling her about a strange, albeit unthreatening, visit from two FBI agents that morning.
“Clearly they just made a mistake,” Margie said soothingly. Her brother Mike had been in the FBI. Surely he still had some connections. “I’m sure Mike can sort it out.”
“Can you even reach him?” Claire asked.
Margie tapped her chin. He’d set off to sail the world, but he checked in every few weeks. Usually.