Page 121 of Capturing You
Her grandson’s lowered.
“I mean, obviously you did.”
“You look terrible, dear.” Maury moved closer. “Are you ill?”
Brooklynn still wore the old-lady makeup. She laughed, the sound forced. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just… I needed to get into my apartment, but I didn’t want to be seen.”
Owen said, “You think makeup will keep anyone from recognizing you?”
“With a wig and cane…” She shrugged. “I didn’t have a lot of choices.”
“Okay.” Maury’s word was drawn long. “Why are you here?”
“For this.” She wiggled the book in her arms. “I don’t know where my copy is. I’m sorry I scared you. I came in through the attic. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I’d have preferred to give you permission than haveyougivemea heart attack.”
“I didn’t think anybody would be here.”
“We have a meeting. If you’re that interested, you really should join?—”
“What’s the holdup?”
The words came from the stairwell, quickly followed by Graham Porter, whose shiny bald head reflected the overhead lights. “You said you’d be gone two…” His words trailed as he caught sight of Brooklynn. “Hey, you’re back. I didn’t realize. Have you had a chance to move my booth at Old Home Days? I refuse to share space with?—”
“I can’t talk about that right now.” She needed to get out of there before the rest of Shadow Cove traipsed through. To Maury, she said, “Can I borrow this book? I promise I’ll return it.”
“Of course, dear. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Nope. Just this.” She backed toward the interior staircase, then had a thought. “Do you remember a logo in town? A seagull surrounded by a circle?”
Graham’s chest puffed out. “At the Wadsworth, we’ve never strayed from our original logo.” It was a silhouette of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, which they probably ought to stray from, but she didn’t say so. “It’s about tradition,” Graham continued, “and honoring those who’ve?—”
“Right.” Brooklynn cut him off before he started one of his legendary lectures. She shifted the book under her arm, pulled out her phone, and showed Maury the photo she’d taken of Charles’s drawing. “Is that familiar at all?”
“Sure, sure. Arthur used that logo until he changed it to that stylized A. If you ask me, the seagull was better, but it was similar to another one in town. I don’t know if he was asked to change it, or?—”
“Whose logo?” Brooklynn usually wasn’t rude, but getting into a conversation about history with the president of the historical society wasn’t likely to be brief.
Maury tapped her upper lip. “Hmm. It was a boat, wasn’t it?” She directed the question at Graham. “I remember seeing it by the docks.”
He stepped forward and peered at Brooklynn’s screen. “The charter company,” he said. “We at the Wadsworth used to recommend them to our wealthier patrons from time to time.”
Brooklynn’s heart thumped. A charter company would own plenty of boats that could smuggle goods.
To Brooklynn, Graham said, “You should talk to Taggart or Prescott. They owned it.”
By Taggart, he couldn’t have meant Lenny. To clarify, she asked, “Leo?”
“Ayuh,” Graham said, “I think Ian owned a share. They closed up shop in the early two-thousands. Their families go back.”
Didn’t all families around here? She used to think of her town as one big family.
Now it felt more like a spiderweb, everyone connected to everyone else, the silky fibers hidden until they trapped the innocent.
She shook off the creepy notion.
At least she had a lead, one that didn’t point to her old mentor. “Thanks, you guys. I’ll let you have your meeting.” To Maury, she said, “I apologize again. I’ll explain everything when I can.”
