Maine. Antiques. August. That's all Maggie Summer requires for a guaranteed fun getaway. But there is an unexplained urgency behind the invitation from her former college roommate, Amy Douglas. The eighteenth-century house Amy and her husband Drew are restoring in tiny Madoc, Maine, is perfect -- or it will be, once Maggie supplies just the right antique prints. But Amy's type A personality is bordering on hysteria: could her desperation to get pregnant explain the sound of the crying infant that haunts her nights? Perhaps the hostile neighbors -- resentful of transplanted New Yorkers Amy and Drew -- have Amy on edge. But when the body of a missing teenaged girl turns up on their land, Maggie knows the threat is authentic. Now everyone, even Maggie's antiques-hunter friend Will Brewer, is cast in a suspicious light -- as she scratches beneath the surface of small-town New England life, and blows the dust off secrets hidden inside a grand Maine home for generations. "Mystery Scene" A perfect read for a rainy weekend.... "Mystery Scene" A perfect read for a rainy weekend.... Lea Wait (1946–2019) was the author of the Antique Print mystery series and the Mainely Needlepoint mystery series, as well as historical fiction for young readers. 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. It's a wonderful house, Maggie. Built in 1774, on a hill with a great view of the river. You'll love it. And you can give me advice on historic preservation. You know about these things. And, of course, I'll be needing a lot of antique prints for these old walls, so be sure to bring some from your inventory." Maggie's time was her own. She wasn't teaching summer courses at the college this year; all she had planned was doing several antiques shows. Since her husband Michael's death last winter, she had been restless. Besides, Maine was a great place to find new inventory to add to her business, Shadows. Shadows