Free Til Dirt Do Us Part (A Local Foods Mystery) by Edith Maxwell Page A

I usually stroll down here to see what’s special on Sunday morning and then revise my menu accordingly.” Jake’s restaurant was only a few blocks away.
    “How much is the kale?” a young woman asked. She stood with her arm around the waist of another woman.
    As Cam turned back toward the table, Jake gave her own waist a little squeeze. “See you tomorrow night? It’s my turn to cook.” They’d made a habit of having dates on Monday nights, the only night the restaurant was closed. “Six o’clock.”
    “It’s two dollars a bunch.” Cam watched Jake out of the corner of her eye as he left even as she took the customer’s money and thanked her. He sampled the goat cheese at the next table and bought ten logs. He strolled to the specialty vinegars and olive oils. Despite his height and heft, he moved with a flowing grace she could watch all day. She didn’t really focus on her table until he disappeared around the corner of the aisle.
    A young man with a baby boy in a carrier on his back handed Cam four SNAP tokens in exchange for a bag of mixed greens.
    “I already swiped my card with the market manager.” His look of tired patience indicated he had explained the system more often than he cared to. “They’re dollar tokens—”
    “I know.” Cam smiled at him. “We welcome tokens. I think they’re great.” But he was the first customer to use the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program at Cam’s table since the market had opened. She reflected that Newburyport attracted a different demographic than Haverhill, where customers using food stamps for fresh produce were much more numerous.
    Ruth Dodge appeared with her daughters, Natalie and Nettie, during the prenoon lull. Every market had its lull point. The Newburyport market ran from nine to one, so the end of the eleven o’clock hour was quiet. Cam was sure it would get frantic in the last sixty minutes. People came after church fellowship hour. An absentminded type might remember the farmers’ market, check the clock, and head down here. Bargain hunters knew many vendors lowered their prices during the last fifteen to thirty minutes. Whatever the reason, the lull period was a good time to take a quick bathroom break, straighten up the display, or actually sit for a few minutes before it got busy again.
    “Hey, Ruth. Hi, girls.” Cam stood to greet them.
    “Hi, Ms. Cam.” Nettie bounced on her heels, her dark curls bouncing, too. “Can I have a tomato?” She reached for one of the gold cherries.
    “Nettie, those are for sale,” Ruth said, staying her daughter’s hand. Ruth, clearly off duty, wore her Mom uniform of jeans and a pink Red Sox T-shirt. “But I’ll buy us a basket. Natalie, do you want one, too?”
    The blond-haired twin hid behind her mother as she shook her head.
    “You don’t have to buy them,” Cam said. She picked out the best-looking basket and handed one of the tomatoes to the girl. “Natalie, is there anything here you like?”
    Natalie nodded slowly. She pointed to the kale, its dark gray-green leaves curled around purple veins.
    Cam glanced at Ruth, who smiled.
    “Let me help you get a leaf out. That’s a healthy food to like,” Cam said. She extracted a stem and handed it to the little girl, who wore a red tracksuit and miniature sneakers. Her more adventurous sister was decked out in striped tights, a denim dress, and a little fleece vest.
    “This is a great place to shop,” Cam said to Ruth as the girls munched their snacks.
    Ruth nodded absently. She glanced around the crowd. She was clearly in the habit, uniform or no uniform, of someone accustomed to having her radar up for wrongdoing.
    Cam lowered her voice. “Any news about the case?”
    “Not that I can share. Detective Pappas is in charge, so unless he asks us directly, we let him take the lead. The fact that Bobby Burr is missing is worrisome, I can tell you that much. I’ve heard talk of it being a double homicide. I don’t know what the