Inked Out by Karen MacInerney

Author:Karen MacInerney [MacInerney, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gray Whale Press

12

I spent the next few hours baking a batch of Lemon Crinkle Cookies; the warm, vanilla-lemon scent filled the kitchen and soothed my soul, at least a little bit. Although I had to confess to being a little bit nervous about Caroline; she'd been gone for hours, and I hadn't heard a peep.

The batter was essentially a lemon shortbread recipe, with lots of butter and vanilla, flavored with lemon zest and juice. It went together quickly, and the scent of lemons made my little kitchen smell bright and fresh. I refrigerated the dough, and while I waited for it to chill, I pulled out my computer and googled 'Reginald Blakely Snug Harbor.'

Bethany was right; he had come from one of the town's old families. They were one of the first to build an oversized "cottage" on the shore, and at least two trails in a nearby park had been named after Reginald's illustrious forebears.

The family had made its fortune providing ice for literal ice boxes all across the Northeast. The ice would be harvested from frozen lakes and ponds in the winter, then stored and delivered to homes and businesses all over the region. Unfortunately for the Blakely family, ice was replaced by refrigeration in the 1930s, and that coupled with a few disastrous stock market gambles resulted in the loss of the Blakely fortune.

Still, the Blakelys had evidently remained a fixture in town. Reginald's father was the mayor for decades, and although his son hadn't risen to his political stature, evidently he still had connections among the old families in town. Which was probably how he'd managed to wangle an interview with the Halstens.

I looked Reginald up on LinkedIn, wondering if any kind of job history would materialize, but there was no entry for him. There was no record of him holding employment in my Google search, either. Had enough money remained in the Blakely estate for him to live comfortably without working? He appeared not to have married, and was an only child, so there was no obvious heir to what money might remain. I was curious to find out who might benefit from his death.

I looked at the last few Tatler articles and did quick searches of the few families actually named, wondering how I could come up with a reason to talk with them in person and get a read on whether they'd connected Reginald with the rather scurrilous stories the Snug Harbor Times had printed recently.

The timer for the chilling dough went off as I was mulling the idea, and I closed the laptop and turned the oven on, then poured powdered sugar into a bowl for dipping cookie dough balls.

As I finished dipping the last batch of cookies in sugar and popping them onto a baking tray, I texted my daughter.

"Fine," was the terse answer a few minutes later. I picked up the phone to ask her when she'd be home, then changed my mind. I wasn't going to be a helicopter mom. Instead, I typed out "Love you" and put the phone down.

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