Visiting an old college friend at her new home on coastal Maine, antique print dealer Maggie Summer finds her friends in an unusual state of fear and anxiety and begins investigating strange disturbances and her friend's husband's relationship with an attractive teenager. 12,000 first printing. Although the characterization tends to the sketchy and the plot is a little wobbly in this second Shadows novel, there's tremendous charm, too, especially in the Maine location and the eighteenth-century house that is central to the story. Maggie Summer deals in prints, and she is also a professor of history. Her old college buddy, Amy, and her husband recently bought a 200-year-old house on the Maine coast. Amy is spooked by strange noises and the amount of work the old house needs; Maggie is amazed at the interconnections among Amy's neighbors to the house and to each other. Even Maggie's current swain, antique tool dealer Will Brewer, is distantly related to the original owners. When a local teenager who has been working with Amy to get the house in order is murdered, everyone is suspect. Each chapter starts with a description of a print from Maggie's stock, and these dovetail elegantly with plot developments and not a few historical family secrets. A fast and engaging read. GraceAnne DeCandido Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved Lea Wait comes from a long line of antiques dealers, including her mother, her grandmother, and her great-grandfather. She has owned her antique print business for more than twenty-five years. A single mother of four adult adopted daughters, she now lives in Edgecomb, Maine, where she runs her antique print business and writes historical novels for young readers as well as the Maggie Summers series. She was nominated for the Agatha Award for her debut mystery, Shadows at the Fair. Chapter 1 The District of Maine, map of pre-1820 Maine (when it was still a part of Massachusetts) by Philadelphia engraver John G. Warnicke, c. 1812. Hand-colored lines marking county boundaries of that time. Horizontal fold mark. 11 x 15.25 inches. Price: $260. "Please, Maggie, you have to come to Maine a day early. I need you. Drew has to fly back to New York overnight and I don't want to be alone. Not in this house." Maggie Summer kept hearing Amy's words as she gave her excuses to Gussie White. She'd been staying on Cape Cod with her friend Gussie while she displayed her nineteenth-century prints at an antiques show. She'd been looking forward to an extra day of relaxing on the beach, but Amy's call was too strange to ignore. "Amy is the most realistic, straightforward, organized person I have ever known," she explained to Gussie as she tightened the tops on her shampoo and conditioner bottles before packing them. "In high school, before she got her driver's license she took an auto mechanics course. In college her term papers were always done early, her dorm bed was made, and when she said she wanted to go to homecoming with Joe Smith, that's what happened. She's the last person in the world to be nervous about staying alone. That's why I have to go." Gussie had given her a hug and nodded. "If you're worried, then I am too, Maggie. You go. Let me know how everything is once you're settled in." That had been five hours ago. Maggie took another swig of diet cola. She'd forgotten just how far midcoast Maine was from the Cape. Thank goodness she was finally off the Maine Turnpike and heading up Route 1. She glanced at the directions she'd taped on the van dashboard. Madoc shouldn't be far now. She hadn't seen Amy in a couple of years, not since Amy's wedding to Drew Douglas. It had been an elegant affair at the Short Hills Country Club in New Jersey, with Amy's mother and stepfather looking stylish and proud. And rich, Maggie thought to herself. Maggie had gotten by with scholarships and loans at the state college, but Amy had never explained why, with her family's money and her top grades, she hadn't gone to a private college or university. Maybe even Ivy League. "Montclair State is close to home" was all she'd say, as she crossed off the next item on her day's "to do" list. Amy's daily list started with "healthy breakfast" and went on from there. Rooming together had sometimes been frustrating for both of them, Maggie remembered. But she had always known whom she could borrow deodorant from, and who would have an extra box of typing paper the night before a report was due. Amy was reliable. And she put up with Maggie's bed not always being made, and Maggie's casual social life. Amy would never go out for pizza without scheduling it ahead of time. Never. When Amy had called in May, Maggie had been glad to chat, as always. She had sat down in amazement when she learned Amy was not calling from her condo in New York City near the ad agency where she worked and uptown from Drew's office on Wall Street, but from a small town in Maine. "You have to come and visit.