By Karen MacInerney
Whilst a lobsterman discovers a sunken send, Cranberry Island is abuzz with pleasure. Is the destroy the is still of the Myra Barton, the lacking send of island sea captain Jonah Selfridge? Or the elusive Black Marguerite, which belonged to at least one of the main infamous pirates of the seventeenth century and vanished and not using a trace—except for the ghost send that old-timers say roams the water on fog-shrouded nights? quickly the island is swarming with marine archaeologists and treasure hunters. It’s excellent news for Natalie—and for the grey Whale Inn—until a physique turns up floating close to the damage. Natalie unearths herself immersed on this planet of pirates and sunken treasure, either prior and current. Will she clear up the secret and locate the killer in time? Or will Natalie be the subsequent to hitch the misplaced ship’s staff, down in Davy Jones’ locker?
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Extra resources for Berried to the Hilt
The man turned to look at Eleazer, while I tried to make myself as small as possible. As much as I might agree with the islander, the man he was haranguing was, unfortunately, my guest. I was distinctly uncomfortable being—quite literally—in the same boat with him.
Evan, who was selectwoman Ingrid Sorenson’s son, was back from a stint in rehab, I knew. I was glad to hear he was moving forward—away from the drug addiction that had almost destroyed his life. “Ingrid asked me to hire him for a few weeks. He was out with me—he was helping with the winch. ” I asked. “It wasn’t actually in the trap,” he said. ” “I’ve heard of that happening from time to time,” John said, “but it’s rare. ” “It was too far out to be part of a pier. Plus, it was curved,” he said.
I don’t know. ” He opened his mouth to insert a second cookie, then paused. “You know, we’ve got a few mooring lines off the inn’s dock. If we moved the skiffs over, they could stay here and tie up right outside. ” “As in dead,” I said. I had a few rooms occupied now, but with the exception of one booking—a woman named Cherry Price, who was arriving from New York that afternoon—the next two months were not looking good. “And it would help fund the wedding,” John added. He had barely finished his sentence when there was a knock at the kitchen door.