The paper looked like it was a note that had been ripped in half. I appeared to be holding the top portion. It was written in some sort of strange alphabet with ‘Es’ which had three dots on top of them and backwards ‘Rs’. Was it some sort of code? As I tried to decipher it, I heard a vehicle pull up. I peeked out of the shed and saw a white van. Chief Tyler pulled up behind them in his four-wheel drive.
When two men got out of the van, I tucked myself behind the shed door so they wouldn’t see me. Both of them were large and intimidating. Clearly, they spent a lot of time drinking protein drinks and lifting weights. The chief motioned to the dinghy then stepped back and watched as they carried Gregor’s body to the van and placed him inside.
As they drove off, I wondered where they were taking Gregor. Was Destiny Key large enough to have its own coroner, or did Chief Tyler have other plans for the body?
7
The Unicorns of the Sea
One of the goons slammed the rear van doors shut, while the other spoke with Chief Tyler. As the chief’s henchmen drove away, he walked toward the shed. The thought of encountering the chief on my own made me nervous, so I looked around to see if there was a place I could hide that wasn’t already inhabited by spiders. While I was deciding between a spot behind one of the shelving units or tucking myself under the tarp, I heard Thomas beckon the chief over to the house.
While the chief and Thomas spoke, I slipped out of the shed and crept down to the beach, then casually sauntered along the water as though I had been strolling there all along. I tried to hear what the two men were saying, but the seagulls were making too much noise squabbling with each other over who was in charge of that particular section of the beach. The birds scattered when Ben pulled up in the golf cart and sounded the horn.
I hurried over to get an update. “Where’s Anabel?”
“She’s still on the public beach. She managed to get cell phone reception, so she’s giving Chief Dalton an update.”
“And what about Penny?” I asked.
“She’s gone back to round up another dinghy to ferry people to the boats,” he said. “It’s a shame yours is still out of commission.”
“If only that was just because the engine wasn’t working,” I said. “It puts a whole new spin on things when someone has died in your dinghy.”
Ben smiled wryly. “Anyway, I told her I’d collect everyone, and we’d meet her back there in about an hour.”
“All right. Do you mind telling Victoria about the plan? She’s still sitting on the beach over there.”
He nodded.
“And I’ll let Thomas and the girls know.”
After I explained the arrangements to Thomas, Chief Tyler looked at his watch. “You have exactly sixty minutes from now to vacate the island.”
Thomas folded his arms across his chest. “Like I said, I’m not leaving. Your cousin said I can stay here.”
“Do you have proof?” the chief asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Thomas said. “Wait here and I’ll get it.”
The chief and I played the staring game while we waited. I have to say, he was a highly skilled opponent. His steely gaze never wavered, not even for a second. But I was determined to win, so I casually said, “What was in those bags you took from the shed and put in your vehicle?”
He blinked rapidly, then spun around to look at the shed before pulling his keychain from his pocket and clicking it to make sure that his four-wheel drive was locked.
Before I could follow up, Thomas approached us waving a piece of paper in his hands. “Here’s the email from Michael.” He thrust it at the chief. “See, it says that he gives me permission to stay here. It also goes on to say how much he appreciates me watching over the place so that nothing goes missing.”
“Hmm. Sounds like Michael might have been worried that something would get stolen from Warlock’s Manor,” I said. “I wonder what that could be?”
Chief Tyler pursed his lips. “Fine, you can stay until Tuesday. But then you better be on that ferry or else.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the email that changed the chief’s mind or the fact that he didn’t want to discuss what exactly he had taken from the shed. Regardless of the reason, he left in a hurry.
Ben made a couple of trips, chauffeuring Sawyer, Olivia, Victoria, and their luggage to the public beach. Afterward, he returned with Anabel so that she could collect her belongings.
“Penny asked about Gregor’s death,” Ben said as he carried Anabel’s suitcase to the golf cart. “I told him that Chief Tyler said it was an accidental death. I figured it would be better to go with that story while we’re investigating the murder.”
“That was a good idea,” I said. “The killer might slip up if they think they got away with it.”
He grinned. “I’m getting the hang of this detective work.”
“Was Victoria there when you said that?”
He nodded.
“She saw Gregor’s body. Surely, she doesn’t think it was an accident.”
“She seemed to go along with it,” he said. “To tell you the truth, she seemed pretty hazy about seeing Gregor. She said the shock was overwhelming and she can’t remember much.”
I looked around at our group. The only people who knew for certain that a murder had taken place were Anabel, Ben, Scooter, and me. And the murderer, of course. Everyone else thought it had been an accident, oblivious to the fact that Victoria, Sawyer, Olivia, or Thomas could be a killer.
On the way to the beach we had talked about who could have done it. “Victoria seems like the most likely candidate given the hair we found,” I said.
At first, Anabel defended her friend, then she said, “Even if she did do it, it must have been out of some sort of jealous rage that was specifically directed at Gregor. It’s not like she’s going to attack anyone else. Not that I think she killed him,” she added hastily.
“What do you think, Scooter?” I asked.
“I don’t want to think about it,” he said.
“Well, that’s one approach,” I said. “We can pretend it didn’t happen.”
He smiled. “I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to do that. You’ll be thinking about it non-stop until you figure out who did it. But the rest of us can pretend.”
The golf cart swerved as Ben avoided a large branch. “I agree with Anabel. If Victoria did it, she’s not going to go after anyone else. I actually feel bad for her. Every time I look at her, she’s crying her eyes out.”
“We can’t rule Thomas out,” Anabel said. “He hated Gregor.”
“What about the girls?” I asked.
“What reason would they have to want Gregor dead?” Ben asked.
“I’m not sure, but that’s what makes being a detective so interesting,” I said. “You uncover all sorts of secrets.”
“Hopefully, the only secret Sawyer has is that she has a crush on me,” Ben said.
When we got to the beach, Penny was there along with a couple of other people who had offered their dinghies up as a sort of taxi service. After talking about who should go where, I said, “We can take Anabel on Marjorie Jane.”
Victoria was sitting on a piece of driftwood by herself, dabbing at her eyes.
“Would you be able to take Victoria as well?” Anabel asked me. “She’s going through a lot and I feel like I should be with her. I’m the person she’s closest to here.”
“It’ll be a tight squeeze,” I said. “We already have Melvin and Ben on board.”
“I can sleep on deck,” Ben offered. “That’ll leave room for Victoria and Anabel to sleep in the main cabin.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Ben said. “Like being back in Sea Scouts.”
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll take the two of them. Now what about Sawyer and Olivia?”
“Some of the people I have crewing on my boat are going to move to other boats, so I have room for Sawyer and Olivia on Pretty in Pink,
” Penny offered. The arrangements settled, we all headed off to our respective boats. As I looked at Sawyer and Olivia sitting in Penny’s dinghy, I hoped that she hadn’t ended up hosting a killer on board her boat.
* * *
The next morning, I was the second-to-last person up. I stretched my arms over my head as I looked at the other regatta boats in the anchorage. Although Chief Tyler had ordered us off the island, he hadn’t had the authority to tell us to leave the surrounding waters, so we had all stayed put.
Everyone except Ben was gathered in the cockpit, sipping coffee. He was stretched out on the deck by the bow, snoring gently, oblivious to the others chatting about the dolphins frolicking in the bay. Melvin and Anabel were discussing the types of dolphins found in Florida and the Bahamas. She was partial to the Atlantic spotted variety; he preferred the more common bottlenose ones. Victoria chimed in to say that she thought dolphins were overrated and that manatees were far more interesting.
“How did you sleep, my little stegosaurus?” Scooter asked as he poured a cup of coffee for me.
“Fine,” I said, which was a lie. I had spent most of the night awake, tossing and turning while I thought about Gregor’s murder.
“Anyone hungry?” Scooter asked. “Why don’t I fix us some grub?”
“I’ll help,” Melvin said.
While the guys fixed breakfast, I casually asked Victoria about her relationship with Gregor. Her face lit up as she talked about how their romance started. “I was at a reception at an art gallery when I saw this distinguished man standing by the bar. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit. I could tell right away that it had been custom tailored for him.”
“So he was rich?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But he was generous with his money. He took me on a trip to Saint Petersburg with him. We stayed at the finest hotels, ate at the most exquisite restaurants, and went for romantic walks along the Neva River in the moonlight.” She clapped her hands together with excitement. “The best part of the trip was when we visited the Winter Palace. The art was incredible.”
“The Winter Palace?” I asked. “I don’t think I’ve been there. We’ll have to check it out next time we visit. Scooter wants to see a Cleveland Indians-Tampa Bay Rays game during the fall.”
Anabel leaned over. “She means the Saint Petersburg in Russia, not the one in Florida.”
“Oh,” I said, slightly embarrassed. “Never been to that one. Guess I’m not very well traveled.”
“You have to go,” Victoria said. “If nothing else, go for the art at the Hermitage. To be able to see original Gauguins in person should be on everyone’s bucket list.”
I had no idea what Gauguins were, and I didn’t want to show my ignorance by asking, so I murmured something about adding it to my list.
“What a treat that must have been,” Anabel said. “That was a couple of months ago, right? I didn’t realize that trip had been with Gregor.”
Victoria took a sip of coffee. “He didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Didn’t that bother you?” I asked. “When I fell in love with Scooter, I was shouting it from the rooftop.”
Victoria looked irritated. “You were probably young when you met Scooter. When you’re more mature, you don’t need to brag about that sort of thing.”
“I wasn’t bragging,” I said. “I was just happy.”
“Breakfast is ready,” Scooter said as he passed up platters of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast.
Ben sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Did you say breakfast?”
“Yep, come and get it,” Scooter said.
Ben walked over to the cockpit, snagged a piece of bacon and wolfed it down. “Can you save me some eggs? I want to take a quick dip first.” He pulled off his t-shirt, then jumped off the boat, hugging his knees to his chest and cannonballed into the water, splashing the rest of us in the process. “Whoo-hoo!” he said after he surfaced. “You guys should join me. The water feels great.”
Mrs. Moto bounded off my lap, raced to the side of the boat and meowed as though to say, “Wait for me.” Then she dived in and paddled after Ben.
“We have to do something about that cat,” Scooter said.
* * *
“Are you missing a crew member?” Ned asked, as he pulled Penny’s dinghy, Pinkie, alongside Marjorie Jane. He cut the motor while grabbing the side of our boat to keep from drifting away.
“Thank you for rescuing her,” Scooter said.
I looked at Nancy who was sitting at the front, scowling and holding a wet cat on her lap. “I’m surprised to see you cuddling her.”
“This isn’t cuddling,” she snapped. “Every time Ned scooped her out of the water, she jumped right back in. I’m only holding her so she doesn’t escape again.”
“Are you sure she jumped in or did you push her in?” I joked.
“I may not like her, but I wouldn’t try to drown her,” Nancy said with a sniff. “This creature seems to want to be in the water.”
“It’s bizarre how she’s taking a sudden liking to swimming,” I said.
“I’m not surprised,” Ned said. “Japanese bobtails are attracted to the water.”
“Maybe that’s why she loves Frisky Feline Ocean’s Delight so much,” Scooter said.
Mrs. Moto squirmed in Nancy’s arms. “Take this mangy beast already,” she said to me.
I lifted the soggy cat onto the deck. “No more swimming, okay?” I said. “If you promise to stay on board, you can have some bacon.” The calico made an ambiguous chirping sound. “Is that a yes?” I asked.
“Hand her to me,” Victoria offered. “I’ll dry her off and make sure she stays put.”
“Humph. Look what that creature did,” Nancy said. Her shorts were covered with paw prints and some strands of seaweed.
“Sorry,” I said. “Can I get you a towel? Or some bacon?”
“No, we can’t stay. We’re just making the rounds to see what everyone wants to do,” Ned said. “After what happened yesterday, we ended up canceling the race that was planned. So maybe it might be best to cancel the rest of the regatta as well.”
“That’s a good point. Gregor’s death was a big shock.” I looked at Anabel and Victoria. “What would you ladies like to do? Do you want to head back to Coconut Cove today?”
Anabel held up her sketchbook. “I’m happy for the regatta to continue. Staying on a sailboat is wonderful inspiration. I have all sorts of ideas for a new series of paintings featuring narwhals.”
“What are narwhals?” Scooter asked.
“They’re the unicorns of the sea,” Anabel said.
“Unicorns aren’t real, dear,” Nancy said.
“Of course they are,” Anabel said sharply.
The older woman shook her head. “No wonder you and Mollie are such good friends. You believe in unicorns and she believes in little green men. You girls have such overactive imaginations.”
Anabel muttered something under her breath, then began furiously drawing with a charcoal pencil on her sketchpad.
“What about you, Victoria?” Scooter asked gently. “You and Gregor were engaged. We’d be happy to make our way back to Coconut Cove today.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here for another day.” She fed Mrs. Moto a piece of bacon, then continued. “The regatta will help take my mind off what happened. Plus it helps to be around other people.”
“Well, as long as you’re sure,” he said.
She nodded.
“Okay, the crew of Marjorie Jane is up for it,” Scooter said.
“What about Sawyer and Olivia?” I asked. “How are they holding up?”
“They’re both upset, naturally,” Nancy said. “But neither of them were close with Gregor. Olivia told us that she met him for the first time on Friday night when he turned up at Warlock’s Manor. And Sawyer said he was only an acquaintance, someone she ran into occasionally at local art events.”
“The girls are excited to race in the
regatta,” Ned said.
“And with someone with Olivia’s level of sailing experience on board, there’s no way Pretty in Pink can lose,” Nancy said.
“It hardly seems fair that your crew gets Olivia,” I said. “I still can’t believe that you asked the folks who were already on Pretty in Pink to move to other boats so you could host Olivia and Sawyer. If we’re going to handicap boats in the regatta races so they’re on a level playing field, shouldn’t we also handicap you guys because you have an unfair advantage in terms of the level of sailing expertise you have on board?”
“Life isn’t fair, dear.” She tapped Ned on the shoulder. “Ready to go? We have one last boat to check in with—the Mistletoe.”
“Is that the catamaran?” I asked. “Such a cute boat name.”
“You should see how they decorate it for Christmas,” Ned said.
“It will be Christmas soon if we sit around here all day yapping,” Nancy said. “Let’s get a move on.”
As Ned pointed their dinghy toward the catamaran, Victoria said, “She lied.”
I turned to look at her. “Who lied?”
“Sawyer.” Her jaw tightened. “She and Gregor weren’t acquaintances. They were lovers.”
* * *
Victoria clammed up after her pronouncement that Sawyer had lied about her relationship with Gregor, saying that it was too upsetting to talk about. Breakfast had gotten cold while we spoke with Ned and Nancy, but we all still dug in. There’s something about being on the water that gives you an appetite. Or at least that was the excuse I gave for having a second helping.
After we ate, Ben and Mrs. Moto lay down on the deck at the front of the boat and napped, tuckered out by their morning swim. The guys went down below to look at charts and strategize for the day’s race, while Anabel, Victoria and I had some more coffee.
I was surprised when Victoria started talking about Sawyer. Maybe she felt more comfortable now that it was just us girls.
“She’s a second-rate artist,” she said bitterly. “She used Gregor for his connections in the art world.”
Dead in the Dinghy Page 10
