Riptide

The hot air stirred, nothing more,

until fresh air began creeping in. The curtains billowed ever so
    slightly.
    So quiet. It was so very quiet in the house. She went into the
    kitchen and put on water to boil. She'd make iced tea, there were
    still bags in the cabinet. She opened the refrigerator, saw that it had
    been cleaned out, and wondered who had done it. Probably Rachel
    Ryan, she thought. It was a nice thing for her to do. She had to
    go to the Food Fort. Good, he could see her driving around,
    know that she was here, know that she was alone. She hoped she
    wouldn't see Sheriff Gaffney because surely he'd want to talk to her.
    When she got into the Toyota, she pulled out the small button
    on her wristband and said,"I'm heading out to Food Fort now. The
    cupboard's bare. I'll be back in under an hour. I want to make sure
    he knows I'm here. I'll leave the notes on the front seat of the car
    at Food Fort."Then she pushed the button back in.
    She was greeted at Food Fort like she was a celebrity. Everyone
    knew who she was, impossible for them not to now, what with her
    photo and her story on every news station in the United States.
    People peered around corners to look at her, even stare at her, but
    they really didn't want to get close enough to speak to her. She
    smiled, nothing more, and put stuff in her shopping cart.
    When she was checking out, a woman behind her said, "Well, finally
    I get to see you. Sheriff Gaffney told me all about you, what
    a pretty girl you are, how there was this big fellow there at Jacob
    Marley's house who really wasn't your cousin. He didn't buy that
    one for a minute. You really lied to him, didn't you, and he couldn't
    do anything about it. But now everyone knows who you are."
    "But I don't know who you are, ma'am."
    "I'm Mrs. Ella, his chief assistant."
    It was the Mrs. Ella who'd kept her from getting hysterical when
    she'd called the sheriff's office to report the skeleton falling out of

the wall in the basement by telling her about all her dogs, every last
    one of them. Mrs. Ella, who also shopped at Sherry's Lingerie
    Boutique. She was a big woman, muscular, with a corded neck and
    a mustache shadowing her upper lip.
    "You're a liar, Miss Powell. No, you're Miss Matlock. You made
    up that name when you came here."
    "I had to lie. So nice to speak to you, ma'am."
    "Ha, I'll just bet. Why are you back here?"
    Becca smiled. "I'm a tourist now, ma'am. I'm going to go out on
    a lobster boat." And she hefted her two grocery bags and left Food
    Fort.
    "The sheriff will want to speak to you," Mrs. Ella yelled after
    her. "It's a pity he had to drive to Augusta on Official Business."
    She heard Mrs. Ella say behind her, as she was supposed to,
    "She's back here to do more bad things, you mark my words, Mrs.
    Peterson. Here she was all nice and hysterical when she found
    Melissa Katzen's skeleton in her basement wall, but it was all a lie.
    If the skeleton hadn't been so old, I would have bet she'd done it."
    Becca turned slowly in the half-open door, her arms aching
    with the heavy bags, and said, "Melissa Katzen was murdered,
    ma'am, and not by me. That isn't a lie. Does anyone know anything
    yet?"
    "No," called out Mrs. Peterson, the cashier, who had bright red
    dyed hair. "We're not even one hundred percent sure that it is
    Melissa Katzen. The DNA tests haven't come back yet. It takes
    weeks, Sheriff Gaffney said."
    "No, I'm the one who told you that," Mrs. Ella said. "Sheriff
    Gaffney doesn't keep track of DNA sorts of stuff, I do. As for you,
    Ms. Matlock, I'm going to tell the sheriff that you're here again just
    as soon as I can raise him on his cell phone, which he usually doesn't
    carry because he hates technology."

When Becca got back to the car, the notes in Krimakov's handwriting
    were gone. She hoped the sheriff wouldn't get to her anytime
    soon. She hoped that her little trip to Food Fort wouldn't
    backfire. Surely Krimakov knew she was here now, surely.
    Riptide, she thought as she got into the Toyota, her haven once
    upon a time, with its Food Fort on Poison Oak Circle and Goose's
    Hardware on West Hemlock. She drove slowly along Poison Ivy
    Lane, then turned onto Foxglove Avenue, down two blocks to her
    street, Belladonna Drive. She turned yet again on Gum Shoe Lane,
    drove past Tyler's house, then turned back onto Belladonna Drive
    to Jacob Marley's house. It was getting a bit cooler, thank God,
    even though the sun was still high in the summer sky. Maine