The Body in the Kelp Read Online Free Page B

You never knew what you’d turn up in one of those. He was still hoping to come across a daguerrotype of Lincoln at the bottom of one, as a friend of his parents allegedly had some years earlier.
    Faith fed Benjamin and together they put him to bed, chanting Goodnight Moon, his current favorite, in unison. By the second bowlful of mush, he was asleep.
    Afterward they sat on the porch again and ate steaming bowls of fish chowder. Tom was thinking how much better it was than mush, whatever that was, when Faith interrupted his train of thought just before he could speculate on what she had made for dessert.
    â€œI’m going to miss you, Tom,” Faith said solemnly. “This is the longest we’ll have been separated since Ben was born.”

    â€œI know, sweetheart. I’m not looking forward to it much. I’d love to stay here. Pix is right. This place really is perfect. Anyway, the time will go fast. You’ll have all these exciting things to keep you busy—auctions and potluck suppers.”
    â€œâ€˜Exciting’ is not the word we’re searching for here. The last thing in the world these next couple of weeks are going to be is exciting. But that’s all right with me. I’ll get all those books and New Yorkers read that I’ve been putting aside all winter. And I have to work on some new recipes.”
    It was twilight and the tide was still high. A lone Larus atricilla, better known as a laughing gull, perched on a rock and slung his strident cry at the approaching dark: “Ha-ha-ha-haah-haah.”

2
    The sun shone steadily on the ocean, creating island mirages and turning the real ones into silver silhouettes. Faith had closed her eyes against the brilliance and would soon have to move to a shadier spot, but for the moment it was delicious to bask in the warmth, listening to the steady thumping noise of the wheel as Eric Ashley transformed lumps of clay into graceful goblets. He had set up his kickwheel on the deck in front of the Millers’ boathouse to take full advantage of the sun and the view.
    Eric seemed to have no trouble talking and working at the same time, although his eyes never strayed from the cone shape he was pushing up and down. Faith had never watched anyone work on a wheel before, and she found herself irresistibly fascinated by the phallic shape that rose, fell, and rose higher again, before Eric plunged his fingers into the glistening shiny wet center, spreading it into the cup for his goblet. Her heart beat a
little faster in time to the wheel. Tom had been away only since Saturday. Two days. Labor Day seemed further away than ever.
    â€œOf course everyone is calling us ‘fortune hunters’ and worse, much worse,” Eric was saying.
    Faith didn’t know Eric, or Roger, well enough to have formed an opinion; but certainly Pix had been surprised along with the rest of Sanpere to find that Matilda Prescott had left her magnificent house not to flesh and blood, but to these two off-islanders. Pix had been in the IGA when she heard one bitter Prescott connection say, “Why didn’t she just have the place torn down? Same thing.”
    Matilda did leave the contents of the house to her relatives, and Sonny Prescott was the executor. It was his decision to auction the whole caboodle off at once rather than have endless arguments and lifetime feuds over who was supposed to get which teapot and to whom Matilda had faithfully promised the rosewood parlor furniture. This way, they’d split the money, and if someone was dying to have something, why he could just bid at the auction like everyone else. There was some grumbling over this, especially among those with the faithful promises, at least three of them for the parlor furniture; but in general the Prescotts thought Sonny had done the fair thing. However, first a bevy of them, including Sonny, was going through every chest, every drawer, every possible secret hiding place for