Bridgy jumped in. “She needs a checkup and we promised to take her to a vet. Do you know one we can use?”
“Sure. Cynthia Mays, a block past John’s church, right before the drugstore.”
Bridgy nodded at me to keep prodding Cady while she went to call the vet’s office.
As soon as she moved away, Cady looked me directly in the eye.
“I’m not sure why you think I’m totally gullible, but before I tell you even one word, you have to promise me that this whole idea of you and Miss Augusta ‘looking into’ Miss Delia’s murder is a farce you are playing to keep Augusta happy.”
I folded my hands on the tabletop and tried to look like a prim and proper schoolgirl.
“Honestly. All I’m trying to do is make sure that Miss Augusta is in the loop, so to speak, so that she doesn’t wind up hearing bad-to-worse news about Delia from some deputy’s aunt, or, God forbid, see an update on WINK news. It wouldn’t be good for her heart.”
Cady looked concerned. “I didn’t know she had a heart condition.”
Now I was stuck. Far as I knew she was healthy as a horse.
“Well, she is nearly eighty. Can’t be too careful.”
When he nodded in agreement, I felt less like a liar.
Bridgy came back and thanked Cady profusely.
“That vet’s staff is super nice. As soon as I explained the circumstances, the lady checked with the doctor and said we should bring Bow by as soon as we close up shop. She’ll not only give Bow the once-over, but she’ll send a report to Animal Rescue for us.”
Cady’s version of what happened was much the same as Ryan’s. Cady was certain that an outsized high tide wave caught Skully off balance, knocked him down, and he whacked his head on the side of the rowboat.
“Happens at high tide all the time.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to run. Tell Ophelia that her corn bread is outstanding.” And he made that hair-smoothing gesture as he hurried out the door.
Bridgy looked at me.
“So? Accident?”
“Not a chance. What was Skully doing at the Point when we know he was always welcome at Tony’s boatyard? And didn’t we see his canoe at Tony’s night before last with our own eyes?” I shook my head. “There’s a lot more to this.”
The door opened and hungry folks looking for lunch started to pile in.
Business was booming as more and more snowbirds flocked to the island. Each day the number of customers increased. Creative as Ophie was in the kitchen, I missed our highly organized and never overwrought Miguel. After Ophie insisted, not once but twice, that a real cheeseburger could only be made with American cheddar, Bridgy got testy.
“The customer asked for Swiss.”
“That’s the second time in half an hour. Y’all know the customer’s not always right, in spite of that old saying. If they want Swiss, let ’em vacation in the Alps. Why are they here at the beach?”
Each time, Bridgy took over the stove and fixed the Swiss Family Robinson Cheeseburger, biting her tongue and not telling Ophie we offer Swiss cheeseburgers and we intended to serve them. I like to think that’s what I would have told her; then again, maybe not.
Still, during a particularly busy half hour, as we exchanged dishes at the pass-through, I had to giggle when Bridgy whispered, “I know the budget is tight, but do you think we could offer Miguel a raise when he comes back to work?”