The cousins wandered down closer to the water. Renie spoke first when they were out of earshot. "Competition from Ben's Buns, huh?"

"I guess so," Judith agreed. "But then the victim should be Brose Bennett or a member of Gina Leonetti's family. Does anybody get murdered over baked goods?"

Renie made a face. "That depends how long I have to wait for my number to be called at Donner & Blitzen's bakery department downtown. Some of those old bats take forever to make up their minds. Five minutes to choose between raised or cake doughnuts? Really?"

"Ah . . . right," Judith murmured. "Maybe we can cross off Gina's brothers as suspects. They can probably prove they weren't here Friday. As for any rumors about Gina's alleged amorous adventures, she is good-looking."

"Suitable for being Ernie's paramour? It crossed my mind," Renie said, kicking at an empty clamshell. "If he had one."

Judith shrugged. "Too much gossip. It's Gina's reaction to the mention of Ernie's death that caught my attention."

Renie looked bemused. "You're thinking it isn't that she dislikes Edna as much as she liked Ernie?"

"Exactly." Judith stopped a few feet away from the outgoing tide. "I'm wondering about a lot of things. I was so tired last night while I was dealing with Betsy and Jacobson that I almost forgot about the treasure comment. Did you catch that?"

Renie grimaced. "No. That went right by me. Who said it?"

"Betsy. She was talking about her father's treasure and mentioned that it was safely buried. Where? I wonder."

"Why does Betsy say most of what she babbles about?"

"Is it babbling?" Judith gave a shake of her head. "I'm trying to figure out if there's a method to Betsy's madness, but I can't."

"If you can't, I sure can't," Renie said. "You're better at reading people than I am. I assume you're not implying Betsy isn't really nuts."

"I'm not. It's more like how nuts she is," Judith replied. "It's possible that some of her eccentric behavior is a shield against reality."

Renie shuddered. "That house and old Quimby are enough to make me a bit peculiar. Both Quincy and Nan look like wrecks. Ginger's right-no amount of money is worth putting up with a virtual dictator."

Judith's expression grew wistful. "It can happen. It's what you're used to. 'Normal' to one person isn't 'normal' to somebody else." She turned away from Renie to look out over the bay, but her dark eyes didn't see the sparkling Sound or the Peninsula's mountains. Instead, she saw herself working two jobs to make ends meet and coming home to a lazy, drunken, verbally abusive husband. It wasn't money that had kept her a prisoner for nineteen years. It was fear.

"Why," she said out loud, "didn't somebody kill him?"

"I guess," Renie said, "everybody figures he's eventually bound to die of old age."

Judith turned sharply to stare at Renie. "I didn't mean Quimby," she blurted. And understood how a so-called normal person could be tempted to snuff out someone else's life.

Chapter 16.

Judith silently blessed Renie for her innate understanding. Her cousin had merely shrugged-and kicked at another empty clamshell. They continued walking away from the steps. Some of the clam diggers had moved farther out as the tide continued to expose more wet beach. A couple with two young children had just given up for the day and were coming toward the cousins. Judith recognized Katie Glover Blomquist and the two boys, but wondered if the man was her brother or her husband. Brad suddenly stopped in his tracks and started to cry.

"Mine!" he screamed. "Mine money! Josh took it!"

"Please don't be so loud," Katie admonished. "He'll give it back when we get to Grandmom's house. You have to learn to share. Josh already promised to give you some of the shells he found." She suddenly focused on Judith and Renie, who were some ten feet away. "Oh! Hi, Mrs. Flynn . . . and Mrs. Jones," she added warily.

Renie held up her hands. "I confess! I didn't give your kids Valium." She paused. "It was Xanax."

Judith shot her cousin a dirty look. "Mrs. Jones didn't give them anything. She likes to make inappropriate jokes now and then."

The tall man with the shaved head frowned at Renie as he picked up the now-whimpering Brad. "Some joke. I was about to pay you a call. I don't take well to anybody messing with my children."

"The Wobble-Dobble made me do it," Renie declared, wide-eyed. "I plead temporary insanity."

A glint of humor showed up in Greg's brown eyes. "You might make that work in court. Or you could sue the toy maker."

Judith felt it was time to change the subject. "Have you been digging for buried treasure?" she asked with a smile.

Katie smiled back. "Oh, yes! Very special." She tapped Josh's head. "Show the nice ladies what you and Brad found in the big hole."

Josh hesitated, but moved closer. "See?" he said, opening a grubby hand. "It's old money from an old ship. From pirates, maybe."

Judith leaned down cautiously to study three grimy coins. "Canadian pennies with Queen Elizabeth. That's fantastic, Josh!"

Katie patted her older son's head. "There's been a lot of talk about coins being found around here lately. Someone mentioned a stash of old French coins. Greg doesn't think that's likely. He teaches American history and knows the subject really well."

Her husband shrugged. "French explorers didn't have a big presence in this part of the country."

"True," Judith agreed, turning to Katie. "Is your brother here yet?"

Kate shook her head. "Denver's still snowed in. Maybe tomorrow. Mom told him not to miss work, so he might wait until the funeral. She doesn't see any point in him making two trips in such a short time."

"We'd better go," Greg said, still holding Brad, who was rubbing his eyes. "It's an early nap after all this fresh air." He nodded at the cousins. "Nice to meet you. Next time, Mrs. Jones, give the boys a shot of Scotch."

The Blomquists continued heading for the staircase.

"At least," Renie remarked, after the family was out of hearing range, "Greg's got a sense of humor. It's good to meet a normal person."

"Greg and Katie don't live here," Judith said. "Have you noticed that except for a mention of the Crowleys-who were gone when the murder occurred-none of the other people we've met have talked about the younger residents except in a vague, general way?"

Renie looked pained. "Does this mean you can't be a suspect if you're under fifty? What about the Bendareks?"

"Borderline," Judith said. "Zach would bash in somebody's head, not resort to weaponry. Becca might use a knife, but I can't think why she'd kill Ernie. In fact, that's the biggest problem. I don't see a motive for anyone. I keep going back to the remark about Quimby being the person who should've been killed. This whole case is backward."

Renie was silent as they continued along the damp sand. "What about Edna Glover? A spouse is always the first suspect."

Judith shook her head. "If she wanted to kill her husband, she could've poisoned him with all the meds she takes. Poison is more of a woman's weapon and it's harder to detect." She frowned. "I didn't ask Jacobson if a full autopsy was being done. Maybe I should call him."

"Would that be automatic in a homicide investigation?"

"I think that depends on the jurisdiction and the immediate survivors," Judith replied. "Let's check out the boathouse. It looks as if all the fishermen have come off the bay. I'll call Jacobson later. I kind of hate to, since he's off duty. That sort of thing always annoyed Joe when he was on the police force."

The tide was out so far that the cousins gave the murder site a wide berth. "They can't store very big boats in that building," Judith remarked, nodding to a couple they didn't recognize who were clamming nearby. "You'd think Obsession Shores would have its own marina."

Renie shrugged. "It's not too far to drive to Scratchit Head."

"That's so," Judith agreed. "I've never noticed if you can get from here to there at low tide."

"You can't," Renie said. "I mean, Bill tried to do it once when we were up here. Just beyond the boathouse, the bluff rises so sharply that there's no way to get around it, even when the tide's out." She waved a hand in the direction of the forested land beyond the development. "You'd have to climb up that hill and it's really steep. As for driving to Scratchit Head, you go back to the main highway and turn due west instead of going south to get here."

Judith nodded as they approached the boathouse's wooden steps. "Come to think of it, I've seen the sign for Scratchit Head. Let's hope this place isn't locked."

Renie went first and turned the knob. "It's not," she said-and gasped as the door opened, almost knocking her into Judith.

"Sorry!" Zach Bendarek cried. "You okay, tiger lady?"

"I guess," Renie replied, catching her breath. "You're dangerous when it comes to doors, big fella."

Zach looked sheepish. "Wish I'd been more dangerous on the field. You got a boat in here?"

"No," Judith said. "We're just visiting, remember?"

"Oh, right." Zach pounded a fist into his palm. "Darn! You already told me. Your uncle's got that old beat-up boat on the beach, right? How come he doesn't use it for firewood? That thing's a wreck."

"Uncle Vince keeps hoping it'll heal itself," Judith murmured.

Zach frowned. "It won't. The only thing it's good for is when Betsy Quimby sits in it and pretends she's a pirate. The poor lady doesn't know it'd sink if she ever put it in the water."

"Betsy's in her own little world," Judith said kindly.

"Good place to be," Zach murmured, edging around the cousins to get down the steps. "I wouldn't want to live anywhere near . . ." He stopped speaking as soon as reached the sand. "Never mind. See you around. If you're still here."

"You know what?" Renie said as they went inside. "I'd like to listen to Zach and Betsy hold a debating contest."

"You're mean," Judith declared, closing the door behind her. "As we thought-they're pretty basic and lightweight with room for no more than six people. Most seem to be made of aluminum and have some kind of canopy, unlike Uncle Vince's. I wonder what he did with the motor."

"He had a motor?" Renie asked. "I could've sworn he used oars when I was out in it."

"Maybe he did," Judith said. "He always had trouble starting it. The boats in here are probably used mainly for fishing and crabbing. I wouldn't want to go out farther than the bay in any of them."

"Right," Renie drawled. She gazed at the thirty or more craft lining the walls. "It might get choppy out in the Sound. I see a couple of kayaks, too. They all look seaworthy to me, though. I can't see any visible holes."

"I hope not. You're the one who had a seagoing father." Judith studied a printed list near the door. "This shows who stores boats in here along with the time they go out and come back. I don't recognize most of the names except for Bennett, Hilderschmidt, Leonetti, and Logan."

"What about Bendarek?" Renie asked.

Judith scanned the list a second time. "No. He's not listed." She was puzzled. "So why was Zach here?"

"Because he forgot he doesn't own a boat?"

Judith didn't answer right away. "I wonder if he was in a boat with somebody else and lingered after they came in. It took us a couple of minutes to walk over here. I didn't see anybody go inside, only a couple of people coming out. The ramp's not wide enough to accommodate anything but small craft. It goes off at an angle, maybe the better to catch the tide."

"You think Zach was looking for another body?"

Judith sighed. "No. It just seems odd. But Zach is a little odd. Heck, maybe he's thinking of buying a boat and was checking the ones here. Let's go. We haven't learned a blasted thing. Do you really want to dig clams?"

Renie didn't answer until they were outside again. "Well, why not? The tide's still going out. You stay here. I'll get a bucket and a couple of shovels. Or do the Webers have a clam gun?"

"I don't think they've ever bothered to get one," Judith replied. "Auntie Vance likes the exercise. I've never seen Uncle Vince dig clams. He might doze off and end up facedown in the sand." She winced. "That reminds me of Ernie. I think I'll stay away from that log."

Renie gave her cousin a thumbs-up sign and trotted off to the staircase. Judith strolled on, noting there were only four clam diggers still on the beach. Closer to the bank, several teenagers were clambering over driftwood on the far side of the staircase. One of them looked like Chad Bendarek. To her surprise, he jumped off a weather-beaten stump, gestured to a young girl, and hurried to join Judith.

"Hi," he called out, coming closer. "Mop told me you found Mr. Glover's body. Is that for real?"

"I'm afraid so," Judith admitted. "My cousin was with me."

"Awesome," Chad murmured, putting a hand on the girl's arm. "This is Em. She thinks she knows who whacked Mr. G."

Em gave Chad a disgusted look. "I never said that. I only thought they looked like they were arguing when I saw Mr. Glover talking to Mr. Hilderschmidt that afternoon." She turned to Judith. "I had to stay home from school that day because I had a bad cold. I don't want to get Mr. Hilderschmidt in trouble, even if he is a total doof."

Judith kept her tone neutral. "No blows exchanged?"

"No," Em replied. "Mr. Hilderschmidt waved his arms, though."

Judith glanced up the hill. "Do you live close to the beach?"

Em nodded, her frizzy golden curls highlighted by the noonday sun. "Halfway up on the right-from here, I mean. I was using binoculars so I could bird-watch. We're doing a science project on sea life."

Judith nodded. "How did Mr. Glover look?"

"He was sort of turned away," Em responded. "But he looked . . . like maybe he was sort of like . . . trying to back off?"

"An argument, perhaps?" Judith suggested.

Em shrugged. "I stopped watching. I thought I saw a crane, but it turned out to be a weird-looking seagull."

"What time was that?"

Em's round face scrunched up. "Um . . . just before two? I was watching a soap. While I studied, I mean. It was the last commercial break before the Friday cliffhanger. I hate those. I zonked out after that. The decongestant I take makes me sleepy. I didn't get to see the excitement after you found Mr. Glover."

"It wasn't exactly exciting," Judith said. "In fact, my cousin and I left almost as soon as the emergency people arrived." She saw Renie coming down the steps with a bucket and two shovels. "Here's Mrs. Jones now. Did the police talk to you?"

Em's plain face looked blank. "No. Somebody came to our house, but he only asked Mom a couple of questions." She looked at Chad. "Hey, let's go. I don't want to talk to some guy in a uniform. That is so not cool." She didn't wait for Chad, but headed back to join the other teens.

"Sorry 'bout that," he murmured, and sauntered off after Em.

Renie kept walking right past Judith. "Come on," she called over her shoulder. "We'll have better luck closer to the water. Nobody's dug there yet. Skip the horse clams and geoducks. They taste like tires."

"Right," Judith shouted, following her cousin.

Renie stopped some ten feet from the outgoing tide. "So now you're interrogating the younger set?"