Labor Day was usually one of Lucy’s favorite holidays. Unlike Memorial Day and the Fourth of July, which brought hordes of summer people and vacationers to Tinker’s Cove, Labor Day was more subdued. Summer people were closing up their houses and heading home early to avoid the traffic, families with kids had already taken their vacations and were replaced by older couples taking advantage of the last warm days of summer, dubbed the “shoulder season” by the Chamber of Commerce. The big rocks bordering Blueberry Pond, the popular freshwater swimming hole, would be empty save for a few late-season sun worshippers. So would the town beach on the ocean, which had been so crowded just last weekend that you couldn’t find a single empty place in the parking lot. Instead of the shrieks of children, the only sound would be the occasional call of a herring gull; there would only be the fresh smell of the sea—and a faint, lingering whiff of fried clams—now that the snack bar had closed because the college-age staffers had all gone back to school.

But instead of packing up her sunglasses and towel and joining the family for one last lazy afternoon on the beach, Lucy found herself staying in the house, unable to give up her vantage point on the scene of the crime. She didn’t know what she expected to see, but she kept peering out the windows overlooking Prudence Path, checking on the activity there. The fact that there wasn’t much activity at all didn’t discourage her. It was a compulsion, like a scab you had to pick even though you knew it would bleed. When the phone rang she leaped on it, beating Sara and Zoe.

“I couldn’t believe it when Ted told me,” said Pam. “Poor Mimi.”

“You can say that again,” said Lucy. “She was stabbed with a big old kitchen knife. It was horrible.”

“That’s right. You found the body. That must have been awful.”

“It was.” Lucy didn’t want to go into it. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Of course.” Pam sounded a little disappointed. “Well, I do have some good news. The bake sale raised over twelve hundred dollars.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Honest. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Just from our cookies and stuff?”

“Well, I suspect a lot of it came from the coffee and cold drinks. Chris is going to do an analysis.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Lucy.

“She was pretty frantic when you didn’t come back and she couldn’t get you on your cell phone. She ended up calling me around ten and I went in to help.”