Chapter Four
The cobblestone streets of Holbrook’s Wharf gleamed in the morning light, still slick from the previous night’s rain.
Seagulls circled overhead, their cries mingling with the sound of waves lapping against the docks.
Fishermen bustled about, loading crates of the morning’s catch onto trucks, while the faint scent of saltwater filled the crisp air.
Maggie tightened her wool coat against the brisk sea breeze as she stood at the corner where Chips Hogan had been found, slumped and lifeless.
Her sharp eyes darted over the scene as though daring it to reveal its secrets.
“Ma! What are you doing here?” Cord’s deep voice broke through the crisp air.
Maggie turned to see her two younger sons, born within a year of each other, Cord and Sandy, striding toward her, their work boots clapping against the stones.
Both wore heavy flannel jackets over their sweaters, ready for a morning on their lobster boat.
“Good morning, boys!” Maggie greeted cheerfully, though her expression held the unmistakable determination they’d come to recognize over the years.
Cord exchanged a wary glance with Sandy before fixing his gaze on his mother. “You’re not seriously poking around the crime scene, are you?”
“And why shouldn’t I?” Maggie countered, hands on her hips. “You two aren’t the only ones in this family with a nose for seafood and trouble. Chips Hogan didn’t just keel over from bad luck. Someone poisoned him, and I intend to find out why.”
“Ma, this is Jill’s investigation,” Sandy pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know how she gets when people—more specifically, you—tend to butt in.”
“Jill may wear the badge, but I’ve got the experience,” Maggie retorted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “And don’t you two worry about me. I’ve raised three sons, a headstrong daughter, managed a seafood empire, and outlasted a hurricane or two. A little murder mystery isn’t going to do me in.”
Cord sighed and glanced toward the dock, where their boat bobbed impatiently in the water. “Just don’t get yourself in over your head, Ma.”
“You’re sweet to worry, but I’ve got this handled.
Now go check your traps before I start wondering if you’re slacking.
” Maggie waved them off with a brisk motion and turned her attention back to the cobblestones, inspecting the area for any clues.
The boys hesitated a moment before heading off, shaking their heads.
By noon, Maggie had made her way to her eldest son Oliver’s office. The building was a no-nonsense affair, much like Oliver himself. Inside, the steady hum of activity filled the air, punctuated by the ringing of phones and the shuffle of papers.
Oliver, his shirtsleeves rolled up, glanced at his phone, reading a text from Sandy. His brow furrowed slightly as he set the phone down and looked up just as Maggie entered. “Mom, what are you up to now?” he asked with a sigh.
“Can’t a mother visit her busy son without an ulterior motive?” Maggie teased, setting down a paper bag filled with sandwiches and fresh-baked cookies.
“Not when that mother is Maggie Holbrook,” Oliver replied with a smirk before opening the bag on his desk. “What did you bring me?”
Maggie snatched the bag away from him. “Those are for your staff. You’re taking me to lunch.”
“I just got a text from Sandy. He says you’re channeling Angela Lansbury, playing amateur detective again?”
“Angela Lansbury was known for many more roles than just Jessica Fletcher. She won an Honorary Oscar, five Tonys …”
“You’re avoiding the issue, Mother,” Oliver pressed.
The door suddenly opened, and Oliver’s secretary stepped in, a tentative smile on her face.
“Mr. Peterson is here,” she began, but before she could finish, Clyde Peterson pushed past her, flashing a greasy smile.
“Great outfit today, Kimmy,” Clyde said, his voice dripping with insincerity. “Really compliments …” His eyes fell to her bosom. “Your figure.”
The secretary cringed slightly and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Holbrook,” Clyde said, nodding politely.
“Clyde,” Maggie replied coolly.
“I’m sorry, did we have an appointment, Clyde?” Oliver asked, scratching his head.
“Nope, but since you’re charging me by the hour, I don’t see why you’d mind me just dropping by.” Clyde sneered.
“Fair enough,” Oliver muttered.
“So tell me, Oliver, are we still cutting that deal, or are we going to trial?”
Oliver glanced at his mother and sighed. “I believe we should make a deal, Clyde. But we’ll discuss the case after lunch. I’m taking my mother out.”
Clyde shrugged, unbothered.
“Your poor mother must be worried sick about you,” Maggie interjected. “You know, if you’d stop drinking, you might spare her some of that worry.”
Clyde shifted uncomfortably. “She’s always worried about me. My older brother. My sister. That’s just how she is. Always worried about her family. Speaking of family, though, I saw Cord down at the bar the other night, drinking up a storm, celebrating his engagement.”
“Yes, that’s right. Cord’s getting married,” Maggie said with a tight smile.
“Phoebe Barker, seriously?” Clyde scoffed.
Maggie adopted a stern tone. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Well, as a mother, I’d think you’d be worried too.” He leaned back with a smirk. “You know, I went out with Phoebe once. Nice enough girl. Easy, if you know what I mean.”
Maggie’s eyes narrowed, her tone sharp. “That’s enough gossip, Clyde. Phoebe is going to be part of this family, and I’ll not have you sullying her name.”
Clyde threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy on the eyes. That’s all I meant to say.”
Maggie knew he was lying, confronting him with a steady gaze.
“All right, Clyde, why don’t you come back around two and we’ll discuss next steps?” Oliver said, standing up.
“Sure, no problem. You have a nice day, Mrs. Holbrook,” he said, backing out of the office. Maggie nodded but didn’t say anything.
When Clyde left, Oliver closed the door and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll never understand Cord’s taste in women.”
“It’s his life,” Maggie said firmly. “He has to make his own decisions, even if they aren’t ones you or I would necessarily make.”
“Why does he always have to be so impulsive? Cord’s track record isn’t exactly inspiring,” Oliver muttered.
“They all can’t be your Katie,” Maggie said with a smile, then she folded her arms. “Obviously, you’re all talking behind my back. So Sandy is unhappy with my involvement in the Chips Hogan case too?”
Oliver sighed. “Mom, you’ve got to let this go. Think about what people are going to say if you’re obsessively running around town trying to solve a murder!”
Maggie scoffed. “First of all, I take umbrage with the word obsessively. And secondly, people have been trashing the Holbrook name for generations, and I’ve never once cared. But now that the Holbrook family chowder recipe has been dragged into it, well, that’s sacred.”
A few minutes later, they found themselves at The Chowder House where the usual warmth was dampened by an undercurrent of tension. Ethel, the owner, greeted them with a weak smile.
“Business has been slow since the news broke,” Ethel admitted as she poured them each a cup of coffee. “People are spooked.”
Audrey appeared from the kitchen. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes betrayed her anxiety. “I’ve been scrubbing every inch of that kitchen,” she said. “I can’t bear the thought that our chowder—Great-Great-Grandma’s recipe—was used to kill someone.”
Maggie reached across the table and placed a reassuring hand on Audrey’s. “We’ll figure this out,” she said firmly. “You and I, together.”
Audrey blinked in surprise. “You mean it?”
“Absolutely. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s injustice. And this? This is personal.”
“Mom, are you serious?” Oliver interjected. “Jill will already be mad enough that you’re stepping on her toes. Now you’re pulling Audrey into this too?”
Audrey hesitated, glancing between them, but a customer’s arrival pulled her attention. She trotted off to attend to them, leaving Maggie and Oliver alone.
“Audrey is consumed with guilt,” Maggie said softly. “This will help her. If she’s actively working to clear her name, it’ll give her something to focus on. Trust me on this, Oliver.”
Oliver sighed, knowing better than to argue. Maggie’s resolve was as unshakable as the tides.