Page 17 of The Hampton Beach Café 6
She ducked into the bathroom to wash her face, happy she hadn't bothered with makeup that morning. The cool water was refreshing and helped her gather her thoughts. She needed to get back out there.
Stepping out of the bathroom just as Martha and Duncan arrived, Frances was glad for the distraction and the excuse not to tell Lucinda what had transpired on the call.
Martha was wrapped in a long, blue cardigan, and her eyes scanned the café's crowded tables with disappointment. Duncan trailed behind her, his hands shoved deep into the front pocket of his hoodie.
“It's great to see you, Martha,” Frances said, approaching her with a warm smile. “And you too, Duncan.”
Martha set her purse down on one of the chairs at a nearby table just as the current occupants rose. They looked at her a little accusingly, but if she noticed, she didn't bring it up.
“Of course, dear, and you too,” she said. “Off you go, Duncan, and do what needs doing. Frances, I have something to show you.”
Frances nodded and motioned to the table. “Please, have a seat. Let's take a look at what you found. I'll get you a coffee. Duncan talk to Lucinda about what she needs you to do, okay?”
“Sure,” he said. “And I'll let her know about the coffee for nan.”
Frances watched the young man dart behind the counter and wait patiently for a gap in the conversation to fill Lucinda in. A few seconds later, he had been deployed into the kitchen.
As she sat down, Martha retrieved a manila folder from her purse and placed it on the table, flipping it open to the first document.
Frances felt her heart racing as she read through the summary. It was clear that Clarkson had been engaging in illegal activities for quite some time.
“I found six more people,” Martha said. “Plus the two of us and a few from before. Everyone is pulling together all their old emails and the contracts. Some even still have their fraudulent reports. I have a lead on one woman who seems to have been able to back out, but I can't find her current details.”
“This is amazing, Martha,” Frances said, looking up at her with a grateful expression. “Thank you so much for bringing this all together. You'll find her. I'm sure.”
Martha gave a small smile.
“I just want to see justice done,” she said in a small voice. “That sister of yours, Kennedy, she's been helping me.”
“Has she?”
Her stomach twisted. She hadn't spoken to Kennedy in over a week—and even then, it had been a cold and businesslike exchange. There was just too much to deal with all at once.
“She has,” Martha continued. “She's angrier than all of us, and she didn't even lose her house! Though she was in a relationship with him, which I suppose bridges the gap.”
Martha spoke with a humorous lilt in her voice that Frances couldn’t help but like.
Before she could respond, the sound of something crashing to the ground made them both jump. Frances rose and hurried into the kitchen to check on Duncan. She found him staring at a broken plate on the floor, his face flushed with embarrassment.
“It's okay, Duncan,” Frances said, bending down to help him clean up the mess. “Accidents happen.”
Duncan nodded, but didn't meet her eyes. “I'm sorry. I'm still not very good with the whole balancing thing.”
Frances patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Don't worry about it. Just be more careful next time.”
“Everyone all right?”
Hayley had appeared at the door to the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Frances said. “No one hurt.”
Turning to face Hayley, Frances felt her anxiety rise. She hadn't seen Hayley since the big talk about Texas.
“Let me help clean it up,” she said. “There's a trick to getting all the plate pieces together without cutting yourself. I think his nan wants to head off. She got her coffee in a to go cup.”
Frances nodded as she traded places with Hayley. “If you're sure? Thanks, yeah, that would be great.”
She stepped out of the kitchen, grateful for the sounds of laughter and light chatter that she found there. She could hear Vincent's voice mingling with Lucinda's and a few other customers, and the noise was a balm to her frazzled nerves. The line at the counter had completely disappeared, and people were settling down at their tables now. Frances paused—she needed a moment to recenter herself. She glanced over her shoulder to check on Duncan.
