Near the end of the day, a small dump truck slid a load of wood next to the police department. Niles came outside and helped the man stack it. The man introduced himself as Wilbur Simpson.
“How do you get paid?” Niles asked.
“I give you the bill and I think you turn it into Mildred,” Wilbur said. “I mean, it’s Lucinda now, right?”
“Yeah,” Niles said. “Lucinda has taken over Mildred’s job.”
“Well she finally got the job,” Wilbur said.
“How do you mean?” Niles said.
“About two or three years ago they was trying to force Mildred into retirement.” Wilbur said. “and I don’t mean to start a rumor, but Lucinda was doing all she could to get the job, if you catch my drift.”
“Well,” Niles said, “she does have her ways.”
“Just for your own information,” Wilbur said. “I was her first husband.”
“You don’t say,” Niles said.
“Somehow she thought a guy who cuts lawns, hauls wood, and plows driveways was her ticket to minks, diamonds, and a condo in the Caribbean. Word is she has an eye for you. Now she’s just looking for somebody who has a decent retirement. It’s funny how you adjust your sights.”
“How many times has she been married?” Niles said.
“Other than the Sam Petit murder, that will go down as the biggest secret in Brewster Harbor,” Wilbur said. “After me, she married a guy with a lobster boat. He was a drinker and lost the boat and Lucinda to the same banker. She left Brewster Harbor for 15 years and comes back a couple years ago. Frankly, for all the miles she’s logged, she looks pretty good.”
“Why don’t you take the bill to her,” Niles said.
“I’ll flip you for it,” Wilbur said. He pulled a coin from his pocket. “Call it.”
“Heads,” Niles said.
Wilbur flipped the coin, caught it, slapped it on the top of his hand, and showed it to Niles.
“Say hi to, Lucinda,” Niles said.
Wilbur smiled started to walk away. “Quinn,” Wilbur said, “that’s Irish right.”
“Yeah,” Niles said.
“I should have known,” Wilbur said and walked with the bill in his hand to the front door of the town hall.