Chapter One
S tanding in her kitchen in Tinkers Cove, Maine, where she was cooking up a big pot of clam chowder base she planned to freeze for easy summer suppers, Lucy Stone knew she was in the final countdown. The hands on the old Regulator clock read a quarter past three; in moments the school bus would arrive for the last time until next September. It was Monday, June 17the last day of school.
Watching the second hand jump forward, Lucy felt her freedom ticking away. Oh, shed had a better run than usual this year. Thanks to several heavy snowstorms, the school calendar had been extended to make up the lost days. But now, the 180 days mandated by the Tinkers Cove school board and agreed to by the teachers union had finally been completed.
The grind of gears as the big yellow school bus started the climb up Red Top Road told Lucy her time had run out. This must be what it feels like to be a condemned prisoner who hears her last appeal has been denied, she thought. She went over to the screen door and listened. It was like this every year; she could hear the childrens excited screams as the bus drew closer. Then the brakes squealed and the doors flapped open.
Talk about your cold-blooded killers, said Geoff Rumford, pointing at a bowl full of seashells Lucy had set on the table as a centerpiece, nothing beats your humble moon snail.
Lucy glanced around the dining room table where they were gathered and then looked at the bowl of seashells she had used for a centerpiece. She had taken extra care setting the table, not only because Geoff was a guest, but because it was the first time in a long time that the whole family had been able to eat together and she had wanted to make it special.
Ive always thought moon snails are pretty, she said, studying the bleached white shells. She picked one up, noticing its satisfying round shape and the neat, concentric whorl of dark gray on one side. It was as if an artist had taken a fine brush and added the subtlest swirl of color to emphasize the snails shape.
This snail doesnt look like much of a threat to me, she added, smiling broadly at Geoff. Geoff always made her smile. He was youngin his late-twentiesand good-looking, but that was only part of it. It was also that she so wholeheartedly approved of Geoff. He was a graduate of the local high school in Tinkers Cove and had gone on to college and was now working on his doctorate in marine biology at Columbia University in New York City. He was a young man with bright prospectsexactly the sort of young person she hoped her own four children would turn out to be.
Not a threat to you, but believe me, pretty terrifying to a scallop or clam. Geoff winked at Zoe, at six years of age the youngest of Lucys children, and started humming the shark theme from Jaws.
Thats right, chimed in Toby, at eighteen the oldest, who had just finished his freshman year at Coburn University in New Hampshire. He was spending his summer vacation working for Geoff, helping with his thesis project. The moon snail has a special organ called a radula which it uses to drill right through the shell of a poor, helpless little blue-eyed scallop.
Sara, who was thirteen and a champion of all animals, gulped hard.
The scallop cant get away, continued Toby, smiling rather meanly. It just has to sit there while the moon snail drills away at its shell.
What happens then? asked Elizabeth, directing her question at Geoff. She was seventeen and would continue her education in the fall at Chamberlain College in Boston. In the meantime, she was looking for more excitement than her summer job as a chambermaid at the Queen Victoria Inn could offer.
Uh, well, replied Geoff, growing a bit red around the collar, the snail sucks out the clam and eats it for dinner. Just like were doing. This chowder is delicious.
Lucys a great cookwhen she bothers to take the time, said Bill, from his seat at the head of the table.
Thats how it was with Bill these days, she thought. Always that note of criticism. Shed first noticed it last fall, when he was out of work for a few weeks. Hed promptly gotten another job and their finances had soon recovered, but not Bills spirits. Hopefully it was just a temporary phase, a little bout of insecurity. She hoped so; she was tired of constantly struggling to keep her tempernot that she always managed to succeed.
What time? she asked, her voice rising in pitch. Between work and the kids schedules, theres no time to make dinner from scratch. She looked at her husband. Now that schools out, Im hoping we can have more family dinners.
Bills expression was doubtful. Since youre working full-time, hows that going to happen? Its going to be pizza, pizza, hamburgers and more pizza.
Lucy changed the subject. Would anyone like seconds?
Dont mind if I do, said Geoff, passing his bowl over for a refill.
So, Geoff, said Bill, passing his bowl, too. What is this research project all about, anyway? Not snails, I bet.
Not snails. Lobsters. As Im sure you know, theres been a sudden drop in the population and I want to find out why.
I thought it was overfishing, said Lucy, who worked as a reporter at the local weekly newspaper and was familiar with the problem. Declining catches and increased regulations had brought the industry to near collapse, and tensions were running high on the waterfront as fishermen, some of whom were the sons and grandsons of seafaring men, saw their traditional way of life threatened.
Well, thats part of the problem, but the fishermen say theyre seeing a lot more sick and diseased lobsters that they cant sell. If we can find out whats going on, we may be able to keep the stock healthier.
What does it matter? asked Sara, with a resigned sigh. Theyll kill them anyway.
Its jobs, silly, said Toby, his voice weary with the weight of the knowledge and sophistication hed acquired in his freshman year. This is Maine. Lobsters are big business.
Well, I dont think it makes any difference to the lobsters, Sara answered self-righteously.
A honk sounded in the driveway and she jumped to her feet.
Where do you think youre going? demanded Bill.
The movies. Mom said it was okay.
I did? I dont remember that.
You know. With Jessica and Caitlin and Meghan. I havent seen them since school got out a whole week ago.
I must have forgotten, said Lucy.
Bill looked to Geoff for sympathy. If I had a dollar for everything shes forgotten lately...
Whos driving? asked Lucy.
Caitlins mom. And shes bringing us home, too.
