Murder At A Vineyard Mansion by Philip R. Craig

Author:Philip R. Craig [Craig, Philip R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780060757205
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2003-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

I’d barely gotten seated at the breakfast table the next day when my son spoke up.

“Hey, Pa!”

“What, Joshua?” “There’s this kids’ summer school, sort of, and it sounds neat. Can we go to it?”

“Yeah, Pa,” Diana chimed in. “Can we? All our friends are going. And we can use our computer to help us study! Please!” A child’s “please” can be an annoying but powerful word. I looked at Zee. “Do you know anything about this?”

She handed me a piece of mail. “This came a couple of days ago.”

I opened the envelope and read. The advertised program seemed mostly to offer nature studies, including guided walks though the Felix Neck Wildlife Sanctuary and to various beaches. A big adventure would be a trip to Woods Hole to see what the scientists were doing there.

“It’s only for a couple of weeks,” said Zee. “I told the kids that I’d talk about it with you, but your son, there, jumped the gun.” She looked at my son, who smiled back at her, unashamed of his brashness.

“I see here that it starts tomorrow. That’s not much warning.”

“Please, Pa! It’ll be lots of fun!” I looked at Diana, who was wolfing down her breakfast between pleas. It was hard not to want my daughter to have fun.

“We’ll learn stuff, too,” said Joshua, arguing the other virtue of education.

I turned to Zee. “We’ll have to sign them up today,” I said.

“It’ll just take a phone call,” she replied, sipping her coffee. “I already talked with Mr. Timulty and told him we were interested. The bus will pick them up at the end of the driveway and bring them back home again, just like during regular school. If you approve, that is.”

How was I supposed not to approve? Was I getting old and feebleminded? First the computer and now summer school. What would my family talk me into next?

“Fine,” I said. “It sounds like a good thing!”

The kids exchanged big smiles and Zee gave me one just for myself. I felt good. Being a father had its moments. The next morning after the kids left for their first class and Zee headed to the hospital, I phoned Maud Mayhew. Her voice had no vibrancy in it. I told her I wanted to talk with her, and if she had wanted to say no, she lacked the energy to do so. I got a package of bluefish fillets from the fridge and drove to Chappaquiddick. It was another lovely day, and already the pale June People were headed to the beaches to work on their tans so that when they went back to their jobs, their colleagues would know they’d been someplace where there was sunshine.

When Maud met me at her door I gave her the package. “Here,” I said. “I caught this guy yesterday afternoon. Give it to somebody else if you don’t eat bluefish.”

Her tired eyes seemed to brighten slightly. “I do eat bluefish, but I don’t get it too often these days. You’d think

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