Page 10

Eight

Benny

Present Day

“Is it ever going to stop raining?” Zara looked up at the sky in annoyance as she led Benny outside and past the docks using a “shortcut,” as she called it, to the restaurant. Outside, it was misting. Again. “If I’m stuck here all summer in that museum and it rains every day, I will—”

Benny cut her off. “You said you could help me. How?” She wasn’t in the habit of following orders from someone she didn’t know, but if Zara knew something about Evelyn that could help her with the game, she had to find out what it was.

“Let’s eat first.” Zara was equally good at being evasive. “Crabby Carrie’s will be open by eleven, and Ryan is on today, so we can eat for free. He owes me.” Zara started walking, and Benny had no choice but to follow.

“So that’s your grandma at the museum?” Benny asked, trying to fill the silence.

“Yep. I’m staying with her all summer while my parents are away on sabbatical researching, of all things, pirate lore in Trinidad, and Tobago and the British Virgin Islands. My dad is from Trinidad, and he’s always been fascinated with this story he heard as a kid about some cursed pirate treasure that was lost in the 1600s. Anyway, they get two months of turquoise waters and sandy white beaches, and I get to stay here. On exciting Long Island,” Zara deadpanned.

“You didn’t want to go with them?” Benny asked.

“Said I’d be bored and they’d be busy doing research and traveling from island to island.” Zara stared out at the water, visible from the path through town. “I love my grandma, but with my parents away, and my sister doing this whole backpacking across Europe college thing, it’s just the two of us. And she goes to bed at eight-thirty so she thinks I should too.” She exhaled slowly. “Sorry. I won’t bore you with my drama.”

“Bore away,” Benny said, warming up. When was the last time she’d had an actual conversation with someone her own age? “It’s kind of nice to hear someone else’s drama instead of dealing with my own.”

Zara offered a hint of a smile. “The best cure for drama? Crab legs. Come on.”

The town was so small, it only took five minutes to walk back the way Benny originally came by bike and reach the docks.

As they passed a fancy restaurant named Hooked, a small bell rang over the door, and an older woman stepped outside. Benny noticed she was wearing a sweater, pants, and pearls in June, an expensive handbag draped over one pale arm. A cloud of perfume followed her. The scent was pleasant—a hint of gardenia and vanilla intermingling. She gave Zara a cool smile, her gray eyes flitting to Benny’s for a half a second. Zara stopped short and grasped Benny’s arm to make her do the same.

“Good morning, Mrs. Rudd,” Zara said, sounding more polite than Benny had heard her all morning.

Rudd . Benny felt herself inhale sharply. She tried not to register emotion on her face.

“Ms. Dabney, hello,” the woman said coolly. “How are things at the historical society?”

“Fine, thank you,” Zara said. “Grandma is happy you’re able to join us for the lighthouse gala.”

“So much history there, dear, how could a Rudd not be in attendance?” Her eyes took in Benny with interest. “You haven’t introduced me to your friend.”

Zara faltered. “Oh, yeah, sorry, this is—”

Benny cut her off. “Benny,” she said quickly, not revealing her given name. “My name is Benny.”

Mrs. Rudd’s plum-stained lips curled ever so slightly into a frown. “Benny,” she repeated slowly. “Welcome to Greenport.”

“Thank you,” Benny said politely.

Mrs. Rudd took out her umbrella. “Enjoy the day, girls, before it rains.”

She headed off down the street, and Benny heard Zara exhale.

“That is Vivian Rudd, mayor of this town, the wealthiest woman alive and possibly the scariest,” Zara said. “You don’t want to cross her.”

“No, I don’t,” Benny said softly. I’m not letting her take Evelyn’s inheritance.

“Let’s go,” Zara said, motioning in the opposite direction. “We’re almost at the restaurant. Ours is nowhere as fancy as this one.”

Zara led her to the entrance of an outdoor place on the docks, with a crooked hand-painted sign: Crabby Carrie’s . Benny hoped she could get something to eat with the ten dollars in her pocket. A boy around their own age came to the entrance, holding a tray of paper plates and cups.

“Sorry. We’re not open till—” When he saw Zara and Benny, he almost dropped his tray. “No. No. No, we had a deal, Zara. Mondays and Wednesdays only, when Carrie isn’t here,” the boy said, placing the tray on a nearby table. “And just you. You can’t bring a guest.” He eyed Benny suspiciously.

His fair-skinned nose was peeling from what looked like a bad early-summer sunburn, and he had reddish-blond hair. He wore a blue tee with a Hawaiian print shirt under a green Crabby Carrie’s apron. His cargo shorts were frayed at the hem, and he was wearing flip-flops. His face was flushed, and a curl brushing across his brown eyes looked damp from the summer humidity.

Zara folded her arms across her chest. “The rules of our agreement have changed. We’re both eating for free today, and we want king crab legs.”

The boy groaned. “How am I supposed to get two orders from the kitchen without an order slip?”

Zara kept her expression neutral. “I don’t know. That’s your problem.”

“Come on. It’s the first week, and you’ve eaten like two pounds of crab legs already.”

Zara grinned wickedly. “Think of how many I’ll have eaten by end of August.”

The boy ran his hands through his hair.

“Am I missing something?” Benny asked, curious.

“This is Ryan,” Zara said, “and he owes me from now till forever because it’s his fault I failed a science project worth ten percent of our final grade.”

“She’s being dramatic,” Ryan said weakly, and Benny knew Zara had his number. “She had like a hundred average in the class.”

“And because of you, my average got messed up,” Zara said, getting agitated.

“You still had an A…didn’t you?” he squeaked.

Zara’s nostrils flared. “That’s not the point. I was going for a perfect score in science while I served as class treasurer and had track and was competing for state. Something you wouldn’t understand since your idea of a school activity is Frisbee in the park.”

He swallowed hard. “What’s wrong with Frisbee?”

“My point is, our project was going great, lab partner, till you went rogue.” Zara was yelling now. “And now Mr. Keating has to spend the summer without eyebrows!” Ryan pulled at the collar of his T-shirt.

“Someone lost their eyebrows?” Benny asked, intrigued.

“For our project, Ryan accidentally grabbed sodium metal and dropped it in water,” Zara said.

“I wasn’t wearing my contacts,” Ryan squeaked. “I misread the bottle. Innocent mistake.”

“Innocent? The sodium metal released hydrogen gas, which got so hot, it burst into flames!” Zara said. “And the sparks hit the wood table we were standing at and set the whole table on fire, and Mr. Keating came running, and the explosion burnt off his eyebrows.”

Ryan turned desperately to Benny. “Eyebrows grow back. And besides, it was a tiny fire. This is what fire extinguishers are for.”

“My point is, our bad grade is all Ryan’s fault.” Her eyes were like slits. “Which is why he has to give me free lunch at Crabby Carrie’s any time I want this summer.”

“Yes, you , but I didn’t say you could bring a friend!” Ryan argued.

“I’m changing the rules. Ryan, say hi to Everly Benedict. She’d like crab legs too.”

Ryan’s expression faltered. “Everly Benedict? You’re her? You’re the heir?”

Benny froze.

“Wait. You know she’s an heir too?” Zara asked him.

“How do you know?” he countered.

“I read her letter,” Zara said.

“ Stole my letter,” Benny clarified. “And I prefer to go by Benny, if it’s all the same.”

“I gave it back,” Zara pointed out. “Honestly, I don’t even know what this heir business is about. I just said I did to get out of the museum. If I had to sit in that room for another hour…”

“So you can’t help me?” Benny realized, disappointed.

“Help? What kind of help?” Ryan interrupted.

“No, sorry,” Zara confessed. “But I do—”

“I’m going to go.” Benny cut her off. This is what she got for trying to trust people.

“No, wait,” Zara said. “Have crab legs with me.”

“No crab legs!” Ryan argued.

Zara ignored him. “I’m sorry, okay,” she said, her voice softer than it had been all morning. “I am the granddaughter of a local history buff. I’m sure I can help you.” She brightened. “And since it’s history, my grandmother might even count it as work hours. You’re trying to figure out that riddle, right?”

Benny felt the knot in her stomach tighten. “Who said it was a riddle?”

Ryan blocked her path off the dock. “Stay. She may not be able to help you, but I can.”

“Oh really, how can you help?” Benny couldn’t help but sound skeptical.

“Yeah, you, Ryan? How?” Zara seconded.

Ryan’s brown eyes found Benny’s, and there was something desperate in them Benny couldn’t quite read. “Because I know why Evelyn Terry gave you the deadline of June twelfth.”