Free Murder On the Rocks by Karen MacInerney Page B

you?”
    “Gertrude Pickens called from the Daily Mail this afternoon,” I said. “She knew Katz was planning on replacing my inn with a parking lot.”
    Charlene froze with her teacup halfway to her mouth. “How did she find that out?”
    “The only people who knew about it-except Katz’s crewwere Gwen and you.”
    She looked affronted. “Like I’d pass that kind of information to the press!”
    “Was anyone in the store when I called you and told you about it?
    Charlene’s brow furrowed. “Well, there’s almost always someone here, isn’t there? Let me see, when was that-yesterday? Well, Tom Lockhart had come in for a mug-up with a couple of lobstermen-they’d just come from the co-op, made sure all the boats made it in okay.” She tilted her head to one side. “Eli was here, of course. Other than that, though, I can’t think of anybody.”

    “I’d really like to know who leaked that bit of information,” I said.
    She took a swig of tea and rolled it around in her mouth. “Are you sure it wasn’t one of the Katzes?”
    “They didn’t include it on their presentation to the board, did they? I don’t think they were ready for it to become public knowledge.”
    Charlene set her teacup down. “What about Gwen? Did she tell her art teacher about it? They seem pretty buddy-buddy, don’t they?”
    “Even if she did tell Fernand,” I said, “why would he leak that to the press? From what Gwen tells me, he hated Katz every bit as much as I did.” I paused for a moment. “Disliked, I mean.”
    Charlene’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe Fernand did him in and was trying to give you a motive to cover his tracks”
    “Well, whoever did it, I’m not too excited about having the Gray Whale linked to Katz’s death in the paper.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Charlene said, wetting her finger and picking the crumbs up off her plate. “Most of your guests don’t read the local paper anyway-they’re from out of town, remember?”
    “I guess that’s something,” I said. We stopped talking as Ingrid marched up to the counter with a dozen eggs and a bottle of milk.
    “You sure took your time picking those out,” Charlene said. “Is that it?”
    “That’s it.”

    Charlene rang up her purchases, and Ingrid jammed them into her bag and hurried out of the store. The door slammed shut with a jangle.
    “I don’t know what’s up with her,” Charlene said, helping herself to another scone. “Used to be, she was in here every day, chowing down and chewing the fat. Now she hardly talks to anybody.”
    “Probably feels bad because she sold out the island,” Eleazer said.
    “Why’d she do that, anyway?” Charlene asked. “A month ago, she told me she didn’t think a big resort was right for the island, then she turns around and hands it to Katz on a silver platter.”
    Eleazer shrugged. “Maybe there was some money in it for her. A kickback, or something. People do funny things for money.”
    “Maybe,” said Charlene, looking unconvinced. She took a bite of scone and glanced at the clock. “Almost time to close up shop. You want to go down to the lobster pound with me?”
    I looked at Charlene in disbelief. I couldn’t imagine she was hungry after eating two gigantic scones, but my mouth watered at the thought of succulent fresh lobster meat with sweet corn and blueberry pie. My bank account, however, was in no shape to support a lobster feed. “No thanks,” I said with regret. “You might see Barbara down there, though”
    Charlene perked up. “Oh, yeah?”
    “She was looking for a place to eat, and I recommended the pound.”
    “Miss Barbara,” Charlene said. “What’d she think of Katz’s death?”
    “She figured he was down there bothering the nests, and that he deserved it.”

    “Maybe what happened to Katz was what Barbara meant by alternate tactics”
    “The thought crossed my mind too,” I said. “But I don’t know-she doesn’t seem the type. Besides, she looked surprised