Chapter Seven
The steady beep of the grocery store’s registers provided the backdrop as Maggie stepped into the small but bustling market.
The fluorescent lights overhead highlighted the faded linoleum floor and shelves stocked with everything from canned soups to fishing lures.
Audrey trailed behind her, curiosity lighting her expression.
“There he is,” Maggie murmured, spotting Griffin Mead at the far end of the store.
The tall, wiry man, now in his late sixties, was diligently bagging groceries with the kind of care one might expect from someone crafting a masterpiece.
His thin shoulders were slightly hunched, and he wore the bright red vest that marked him as an employee.
Maggie’s heart twinged at the sight of her old friend in such a humble position.
“Griffin Mead,” Maggie called as she approached.
He looked up, startled, his face breaking into a warm, if tired, smile.
“Maggie Holbrook,” he said, straightening. “I’ll be right with you.”
Before Griffin could say another word, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Mead! What do you think you’re doing?”
Maggie turned to see a young man in a crisp polo shirt striding toward them. The store manager, judging by his badge. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, and he carried himself with the overconfidence of someone untested by life’s harsher realities.
“Taking a break already?” the manager said, his tone condescending. “You know we’re short-handed today.”
Griffin’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Just for a minute. I’ve got someone to see.”
The manager sighed theatrically, loud enough for the cashiers and nearby customers to hear. “Fine. Make it quick. But let me remind you, Griffie, you’re already skating on thin ice.”
“I’m working a double shift with no break so far. Give me fifteen minutes. Your buddy Ralph took a forty-five minute break this morning, and you didn’t say squat.”
“It’s not your job to tell me how to handle my employees,” the manager snapped. “But go ahead, take a break, but I want you back here at three on the dot, got it?”
Maggie could see Griffin seething on the inside before he nodded, turned to her, and said calmly, “Be with you in a sec. I’m just going to hang up my vest.” He scuttled toward the back of the store where the break room was located.
Maggie stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me, young man. Are you the manager here?”
The boy blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, yes. Why?”
“Because I’ve known Griffin Mead longer than you’ve been alive, and let me tell you something. If you can’t treat him with the respect he deserves, you have no business being in a position of authority.”
The young man’s face flushed. “I didn’t mean—”
“I’ll be speaking to your father about this,” Maggie added, her voice low and steady. “You’re Carey Birch’s boy, aren’t you?”
He nodded warily.
“Jack, the oldest?”
“No, I’m Peter, the youngest.”
“The youngest are always tricky. Tend to get spoiled. Well, Peter, your father’s a good friend of mine, and I’m sure he’d be interested to know how you treat your employees.”
The manager swallowed hard. “Of course, Mrs. Holbrook. I didn’t realize … I mean, I’ll make sure Griffin gets the time with you he needs.”
“Good,” Maggie said briskly.
Griffin returned from the break room, sans vest. He glanced between Maggie and the now visibly chastened manager. “What did you say to him?”
Maggie smiled innocently. “Just gave him a little reminder to respect his elders.”
Griffin chuckled. “Nobody crosses Maggie Holbrook.”
“Nana, you’re so badass,” Audrey marveled.
The three of them strolled down Halibut Cove’s main street, a brisk wind nipping at their faces. Audrey wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck, while Maggie and Griffin walked side by side, their steps in sync like old times.
Griffin was still hung up on his run-in with his boss.
“Never thought I’d wind up with a boss young enough to be my grandson.
The funny thing is, I don’t really need the job.
I got my social security, my savings. I’m not exactly blowing it on European cruises.
I live a simple, quiet life. But it keeps me busy, gets me out of the house. ”
“How have you been holding up?” Maggie asked gently.
Griffin’s face softened. “It’s been hard, Maggie. Losing Felicia … I always thought I’d go first. She was my rock. The house feels so empty without her.”
Maggie placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. She was one of the best.”
Griffin nodded, his voice thick. “Our kids are great, but they’re so far away. Seattle, Anchorage, even Brussels. I’m proud of them, but it gets lonely.”
Maggie’s voice turned wistful. “I remember when the four of us were thick as thieves, you, me, Felicia, and Wes, running around Halibut Cove like we owned the place.”
Audrey raised an eyebrow. “You, causing trouble? Hard to imagine.”
Maggie winked. “You’d be surprised.”
Griffin chuckled, but his gaze grew shrewd. “You didn’t come here to talk about the old days, did you?”
Maggie’s expression sobered. “No. I wanted to ask you about Chips Hogan.”
Griffin sighed deeply, as though he’d been expecting this. “I figured someone would bring it up sooner or later. Thought it’d be Jill, though.”
“Well, Jill doesn’t have a crack researcher like Audrey here down at the station,” Maggie said.
“I found an article about you and Chips in the Chronicle’s archives,” Audrey said.
“Yeah, I remember our royal screwup made the papers,” Griffin said ruefully.
“What really happened between you two?” Maggie asked.
Griffin’s jaw tightened. “I’m not ashamed to admit I hated the man. He ruined me.”
As they walked, Griffin recounted the story.
“We were young and stupid. Chips convinced me to open a hardware store to compete with the Carters. We despised that whole family with their high prices and highfalutin’ attitude, like they were better than everybody else.
We foolishly thought we could run them out of business, but it was all about spite. Nothing good ever comes from that.”
“What went wrong?” Audrey asked.
Griffin’s face darkened. “Chips went behind my back, gave all our money to a contractor who skipped town. I was left holding the bag. Most of the money was from a loan I’d taken out that Chips conveniently didn’t cosign.
Took me decades to pay it off. Meanwhile, Chips got bailed out by a rich uncle. Never faced any consequences.”
“According to the article, you sued him for fraud,” Audrey noted.
“Yeah, but you can’t sue if you can’t afford a lawyer, so I had to drop the suit.”
They paused in front of the cemetery across from the church. Griffin’s eyes lingered on Felicia’s gravestone, and he walked over, placing a hand on the cool marble.
“Felicia kept me grounded,” he said quietly. “She stopped me from doing something stupid, from letting my anger consume me. I owe her everything.”
Maggie and Audrey stood in respectful silence as Griffin composed himself. Finally, he turned back to them. “I should head back before my manager loses his mind.”
As they walked back toward the store, Griffin’s tone turned thoughtful. “I won’t deny my resentment, but I wouldn’t have killed Chips. I’ve moved on, as best I can.”
“Then who do you think did it?” Maggie asked.
Griffin hesitated. “If you ask me, your daughter Jill arrested the right man. There was bad blood between Chips and Waldo. I know people are buzzing about that chowder recipe nonsense between your families, but nobody’s talking about what was really going on between those two.”
“What do you mean?” Maggie pressed.
Griffin glanced at Audrey. “You work at The Chowder House, don’t you?”
Audrey nodded. “I do. Why?”
Griffin’s voice lowered. “There were rumors about Chips, Waldo, and Ethel Primrose. Some kind of romantic triangle. Feuding over her, if you believe the gossip.”
Audrey’s jaw dropped. “What? Ethel never said anything about that.”
Maggie’s mind raced. “Well, that’s certainly a wrinkle.”
Griffin shrugged. “People do crazy things when emotions run high. Might be worth looking into.”
They reached the store, and Griffin gave them a small smile. “Thanks for the walk. It was good to see you, Maggie. You too, Audrey.”
As he disappeared back inside, Maggie turned to Audrey. “Ethel Primrose?”
Audrey shook her head in disbelief. “I know! I’ve worked for the woman for two years and didn’t have a clue. Who knew Ethel was such a temptress, Halibut Cove’s very own femme fatale? I need to get the scoop, like now!”
“Let’s go,” Maggie said, slipping her arm through her granddaughter’s and hustling off down the street to Maggie’s car.