Chapter 22: In Handcuffs

Garrick did not stand up.

He stayed on his knees in a puddle of harbor water, with the broken thermos in his lap.

"Folks," he said. "Now, folks."

His voice cracked in the middle, and it was not the kind voice anymore.

"I think we all need to calm down. I've fed every one of you at that table for twenty years."

Nobody moved.

"Marnie's had a bad week. She's confused. She jumped. You all saw her jump."

"We saw you throw her," said the ice house woman.

She stood at the front of the crowd with her baby on her shoulder.

"I saw it," said a crab man.

"So did I," said another.

"Two hundred of us," said the woman. "We were holding lanterns. We had the best view in town."

Garrick turned his head slowly and looked at the man who ran the Grange hall.

"Tell them."

The man looked at his shoes.

"Tell them what an honest business this is. You bought from me for six years."

"I did," the man said, hoarsely. "That's why I'm going to say what I saw."

"I saw you throw that girl off the pier."

Garrick's face changed again.

His face changed one piece at a time.

He had no one left to smile at.

"Garrick Moss," the sheriff said, "you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Marnie Dunphy."

"For kidnapping Tilda Rook, and for the assault of Aggie Lunt."

"For the sale of tide stock without a license, for the pulling of scales, and for whatever else is in that book."

He took Garrick's wrists and brought them behind his back.

The cuffs closed with two small, ordinary clicks.

It was the smallest sound I had ever heard.

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