Bodies in the Boatyard

by Ellen Jacobson

  “Well, Katy is her granddaughter. I’m sure she lets her get away with things no one else would be able to.”

  I walked over and tugged on one of Katy’s braids. “What are you making such a fuss about?”

  “Mollie, it’s you! Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “No, you have to guess!”

  “You won the lottery?

  “No, don’t be silly. Guess again!”

  “Your grandmother said you could have a kitten at her place?”

  Katy giggled. “Of course not. Grandma doesn’t like anything covered with fur, not even Grandpa. Once he let his beard grow for a few days, and she made him shave it off.”

  “Okay, then you have to tell me. I’m out of guesses.”

  Penny looked at Katy encouragingly. “Go on. Tell her.”

  “We won the regional competition! I took first place! Penny is treating us all to hot fudge sundaes as a reward!”

  “That’s fantastic, sweetheart. I’m sure everyone is so proud of you.”

  Katy held out her wrist. “Look what else I got—a candy bracelet.”

  “Oh, I’d love one of those,” I said.

  “You don’t need one. You always wear your necklace with the little lighthouse,” Katy said before proceeding to eat some of the candy beads.

  I glanced over to Penny. “Sure you can handle this by yourself?”

  “Well, it’ll be worse for the parents when they pick them up, and they’re all hyped-up on sugar.”

  I felt Scooter put his hands on my shoulders. “I paid the bill. We should probably get going and head over to Melvin’s to pick up some supplies while the sale is still on.” He rubbed his fingers on the back of my neck. “Hey, where’s your necklace?”

  I put my hands on my neck. “It’s gone!”

  * * *

  After a fruitless search for my necklace at the cafe and many tears on my part, we reluctantly gave up and drove over to the marine store.

  “Welcome to Melvin’s Marine Emporium,” Chad said chirpily. He adjusted the name tag on his blue vest, then held out his hand to Scooter. “Nice to see you back here, Mr. McGhie.”

  “I’m surprised you aren’t on a first-name basis by now, considering my husband is in here practically every day,” I said.

  “That’s what we like to see—satisfied return customers,” Chad said with a big grin on his face. “Now, what can I help you with today, sir?”

  Well, of course they were fond of return customers. The whole marine industry depended on repeat business. Everything on a boat broke down frequently, almost as if it had been engineered that way. And while you might pop into Melvin’s for the sole purpose of getting a replacement fuse, you usually ended up walking out with a number of items all designed to help you lead a more nautical lifestyle—a holder for your fishing rod that doubled as a beer-can dispenser, a tote bag which could be converted into a bathing suit cover-up or beach hat, and a brass plaque reminding landlubbers not to flush anything down the head unless they’d eaten it first.

  Despite the fact that he was still in high school, Chad had a flair for sales, talking customers into buying things they didn’t really need. “Did you see the new multipurpose tool we just got in?” he asked Scooter. “Not only does it have a knife, scissors, screwdriver, bottle opener, and tweezers but it’s also attached to a floating key chain in the shape of a dolphin. Buy two, and you get the third free.”

  Chad pointed at a colorful display case. Scooter’s eyes lit up. He was in danger of thinking he needed three of them when even one would be overkill. And I don’t think he had really thought through the fact that the tool itself was so heavy that there was no way the poor foam dolphin key chain could keep it afloat in the water. That’s why I carried the credit cards in my purse and why he wasn’t allowed to shop at Melvin’s unsupervised anymore.

  “Remember, we’re just here to get supplies to paint the bottom, nothing else,” I said.

  “I know, but it can’t hurt to look,” he said over his shoulder as he went to check out the amazing, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He held one up to show me. “Don’t you think these would make great Christmas presents?”

  “You realize it’s only February, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but they’re on sale now.”

  While Scooter was trying to decide whether his sister would prefer the blue one or the orange one, I glanced out the window and saw Chief Dalton standing outside talking with Officer Moore. Chad followed my gaze. “Did you hear what happened at the marina?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Yes, we did. In fact—”

  Chad gasped. “Did you find the body?” I nodded. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Didn’t you find both of the people who were murdered there a few months ago?”

  I nodded again.

  “So that makes—”

  “Three bodies,” I snapped. “Yes, I’ve found three bodies at the marina.”

  A couple looking at deck shoes turned and stared at me. Chad struggled with his desire to go over and cajole them into purchasing a few dozen pairs and his desire to know more of the gory details about the murder. Gore won out. He lowered his voice. “So what happened?”

  “I’m not sure. I found him at the edge of the boatyard over by the wooded area. He had been covered by a tarp. There was an open can of bottom paint next to him, which had spilled everywhere.” I checked to make sure Scooter wasn’t in earshot. “From what the chief said yesterday, it appears as though someone hit him on the back of the head with the paint can.”

  Chad took a step backward. “I hope that paint wasn’t bought here. It’d be awful if people associated Melvin’s with murder. I’m not sure he could take it, especially after all the trouble he had with the previous store manager.”

  “I’m sure people don’t blame Melvin for what happened before, and no one would think any less of him if the paint came from here.”

  “I hope you’re right. It’s bad enough that he has to deal with the death of his nephew. Imagine how he’d feel if he knew the murder weapon had been purchased here,” Chad said. He pointed at his name tag. “Something good did come out of the last manager getting fired. I got a promotion. You’re looking at the new assistant store manager. After I graduate high school this year, I’m sure Melvin is going to promote me to store manager.”

  I smiled at his enthusiasm. I’m not sure I would have the temperament to deal with all the paperwork that went along with managing a store, let alone try to sell stuff to people, but I could see Chad reveling in it. He began telling me about his ideas for inventory management, but I steered the conversation back to the murder. “I didn’t know Darren, but from what everyone says around town, he was a nice young man.”

  “He was always friendly when he came in,” Chad said. “But he spent most of his time running Melvin’s fishing charter outfit.”

  “I know that Coconut Cove is a popular tourist town, but is there really enough business to support two fishing charter companies? I saw Darren and Melvin get into an argument with Norm and Liam about it on Thursday night.”

  “Wasn’t that Valentine’s Day?” Chad asked. “Did Mr. McGhie give you a nice present?”

  “He played it safe this year and got me chocolates.”

  Chad frowned. “I asked Tiffany to go out with me, but she said she had to work late at Penelope’s that night. She always seems to have to work late.” Chad reminded me of a younger version of Ben in a way—no luck with the ladies.

  “What do you know about Norm and Liam?” I asked to distract him.

  “They get a lot of foreign tourists. Liam likes it because he gets really good tips from them. He makes a big production out of filleting their fish when they get back in port, tossing knives between his hands. Then he drops their fish off at Chez Poisson and they cook it up for the tourists.”

  “I heard a rumor that there was some poaching going on. Do you think Liam could be involved in that? I heard him bragging about having a new car last n
ight, and I’m not sure just getting good tips is enough to make those kinds of payments.”

  Chad looked around, then leaned toward me and whispered, “I overheard my dad and his buddies talking about the poaching that’s going on.”

  “What exactly do the poachers do?” I asked.

  “They take catch out of season, go after protected species, keep under-sized or over-sized fish.” He shrugged. “My dad says it ruins it for the rest of us. Not to mention the environment.”

  “I’m impressed with your knowledge on the subject,” I said.

  Chad beamed. “My dad and his buddies are really angry that people are getting away with it. Everyone knows it’s going on, but no one has been able to prove it yet.”

  Melvin stuck his head out of the office door. “Do you have those reports for me, Chad?” He looked at me and walked over. “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem. Chad was just telling me about his promotion.”

  Melvin smiled fondly at Chad and patted him on the shoulder. “He’s a hard worker. He deserved it.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Melvin Rolle, owner of this establishment.”

  “Mollie McGhie,” I said. “I can’t believe we’ve never met before.”

  “Well, I’ve been back in the Bahamas for the past several months,” he said, his eyes welling up with tears. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed them. “Sorry about that. I still get misty-eyed thinking about the passing of my Velma.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry about your loss. How long were you married for?”

  “Forty-one years. I was a lucky man.” He glanced around the store. “She’s the reason for all this. She believed in me and my dreams.” He dabbed at his eyes again. “As much as I miss her, I’m glad she doesn’t have to deal with the loss of Darren. She was so fond of the boy. It would have broken her heart.”

  “When did you get back to Coconut Cove?” I asked.

  “Last week. I decided it was time to come back and face things. The store needs someone looking after it full-time. Chad does a great job working after school and on the weekends along with a couple of other high school kids, but you really need someone managing it day to day.” Chad looked crestfallen. “And this young man will be heading off to college next year. He’s got a bright future in front of him.”

  “You must have a lot on your plate with the store and your fishing charter business,” I said.

  “We used to have four boats, but then…well, we just have the one now, and it’s a struggle to keep that going.” His voice choked up. “Now that my nephew is gone, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Mr. Rolle,” a deep voice said behind me. “Are you ready for some more questions?”

  I didn’t have to turn around to know whom that voice belonged to. I was all too familiar with the burly man behind it. “Chief Dalton, what a surprise to see you here,” I said.

  The chief raised his bushy eyebrows and scowled. “Well, it’s not really a surprise to see you here, Mrs. McGhie. Whenever there’s a body to be found and a murder to be investigated, you’re right there in the thick of things.” He turned to Melvin. “Sir, if I could have a minute of your time.”

  “How many questions can you possibly have?” Melvin said, raising his hands in the air. “I don’t have time for this! Darren’s parents are flying over from Nassau later today. We’ve got to organize everything for the funeral, and I’ve got to cancel the fishing charter I had scheduled for tomorrow.”

  “It won’t take long. Just a couple more questions regarding your whereabouts last night.”

  “I told you everything already. I was home alone, watching TV, trying not to think too much about Velma.” He turned to me. “It was our wedding anniversary yesterday. I watched Roman Holiday and made conch fritters with some pigeon peas and rice. I even made a pitcher of switcha.” He smiled at the quizzical look on my face. “That’s what we Bahamians call lemonade, except we make it with limes. That was how we celebrated every year.”

  “I love that movie, especially the part where Audrey Hepburn drives around the streets of Rome on a Vespa scooter.”

  “Velma liked that part too,” Melvin said. He started sobbing.

  The chief coughed. “Mrs. McGhie, you can talk about movies on your own time. Right now, I’m here to speak with Mr. Rolle.”

  “My own time? What are you talking about?” I said. “It’s not like I work for you. But if I did, I would know better than to badger people.” I pulled out a pack of tissues from my purse and handed it to Melvin, while the chief gazed on dispassionately. “You should be ashamed of the way you’re treating him!”

  The burly man’s eyebrows twitched. “Fine. Why don’t I come by your house later today, Mr. Rolle, and we can discuss matters then?” Melvin nodded. The chief turned to me. “And while I’m in the neighborhood, why don’t I come by and have another chat with you?”

  “That’d be delightful,” I said with a touch of sarcasm. Okay, maybe more than just a touch. “I always look forward to our visits.” I watched as he walked toward the door, praying he wouldn’t turn back around to have another go at the older man.

  “What did he mean by ‘in the neighborhood’?” I asked Melvin. “Wait a minute—you don’t happen to live in the pink cottage on the beach, do you? We’ve never seen anyone there. I assumed it was vacant, maybe a rental property. We’re right next door in the blue one.”

  He nodded. “Yes, the pink one’s mine. Maybe I should rent it out. It doesn’t feel the same without Velma there.”

  “Have you ever thought of selling?” I asked. “A real estate agent was out at our place. She’s desperate to get us to list it.”

  “I bet that was Suzanne Thomas,” he said bitterly. “If I were you, I’d stay clear of her and her husband. The police should be talking to them about Darren’s death, not me.”

  “Do you think they had something to do with it?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said darkly. “They’ve destroyed businesses all over town. I don’t think they’d bat an eye at killing someone to get what they want.”

  5

  MYSTERY INGREDIENT

  After all of Nancy’s snide comments about the fact that I rarely cooked, I decided to go all out and make a big Sunday lunch for Scooter and me. While I was in the kitchen mashing up some potatoes, my husband wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck.

  “I see sour cream, butter, bacon bits, and shredded cheese on the counter,” he said. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “How do twice-baked potatoes sound?”

  “That sounds great,” he said. “But what did I do to deserve them?”

  “By not buying those ridiculous multipurpose tools yesterday. Your self-control was awe-inspiring.”

  “But that was just because you had the credit card in your purse,” he said as he tried to peek in the oven.

  “Hey, stay out of there.”

  “It smells good. What is it?”

  “You’ll see. It’s a new recipe. There’s a special ingredient in it that I think you’re going to love. Why don’t you go wait on the patio? I’ll be out in a little bit. I just have to finish up in here.” I handed him a bottle of salad dressing. “Here, take this with you.”

  “Salad?”

  “It’s good for you.”

  “All right, just make sure you put extra butter in those spuds to make up for it.”

  * * *

  After reluctantly eating a bowl of salad, Scooter gobbled down everything on his plate in record time. “You’ve outdone yourself, my little panda bear. This chicken is delicious,” he said. “There’s something so familiar about the breading, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Well, if you can figure out the mystery ingredient, you can have dessert. I made brownies earlier.”

  Scooter’s eyes lit up. “Well, I’d better have another piece in the interest of research.”
<
br />   I pointed at the cottage next to ours. It was painted a bright shade of pink with lilac trim and shutters. “I can’t believe that’s Melvin’s place. Did your uncle ever mention him?”

  “I guess he did say something about a Bahamian guy living next door, but I never put two and two together.” Scooter took a sip of water. “You know, he bought this cottage from Alligator Chuck around fifteen years ago. Chuck’s family originally owned all the cottages on this stretch of beach. I wonder if Melvin bought his cottage from him at the same time.”

  I turned and glanced at the purple cottage on the other side of us. “I wonder why he kept that one to live in. They’re pretty much all the same inside, aren’t they?”

  “I think the layout is the same, but Chuck made improvements to the yellow cottage on the other side of his so that it’d have more appeal as a rental property.”

  “We hardly ever see him around here,” I said. “He’s probably too busy running his barbecue joint.” I watched as Scooter finished off the rest of the chicken. “We haven’t been there in a while. I wouldn’t mind getting some ribs sometime this week. Besides, it’s always fun to listen to him tell tourists his alligator-wrestling stories. It’s amazing what they’ll believe. Remember the one about the poodle?”

  Scooter chuckled. “That was a good one.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his now-extended belly. “But, to be honest, I’m too full to even think about ribs right now.”

  I looked at the plates on the table. “We really should have invited Melvin over to lunch. Poor guy, all on his own.”

  “You were talking to him quite a bit at the store,” Scooter said. “He seemed really broken up.”

  “Of course he was. First, losing his wife, now his nephew. And then the chief started harassing him.”

  “Harassing seems like a strong way of putting it. He must have some reason for wanting to question Melvin.”

  “From what Melvin says, it’s Norm and Suzanne he should be questioning. He practically accused them of killing Darren.”