Pirate Gold and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  Okay, fair enough. She now had two deaths to investigate, both of whom could very easily have been murdered. In fact, I wasn’t about to think we’d be so lucky to discover they’d both died of natural causes. This was Reading, after all, and since when did my stumbling over dead people ever end well?

  I guess it wasn’t helping that Rosebert prowled Geoffrey’s office, looking for clues (i.e. making idiots of themselves), glancing our way over and over again. Rose’s uniform shirt made her look like a little girl who’d raided Daddy’s closet and the color did nothing for her sallow complexion. As for my hateful cousin, he’d been packing on the beer belly sufficiently, while failing to consult a tailor, it seemed, because the outside of him was trying very hard to show itself through the outside of his khaki button-up.

  If I had to catch one more flash of his pale fish belly or the line of dark, curly hair that peeked out the gap between buttons, I was going to throw up all over this crime scene.

  It felt like I’d been answering questions for ages, though likely it had only been fifteen minutes or so. Just long enough for the entirety of the Reading town council to make individual pains in the asses of themselves by either poking their noses in (both Terri Jacobs and Sophia Bell at least held back from invading the space utterly) or actually walking past Jill’s scowl of anger at the intrusion (looking at you, Oliver Watters) to take their own turn investigating where they had no reason to be.

  Since I really didn’t have a reason, either—aside from what I’d already told Jill—the fact it had taken this long to get through my interrogation wasn’t boding well. Maybe she was just being thorough since this was, after all, my second dead guy of questionable morals and popularity in a single day. Or perhaps it was simply the oversight of the council and the revolting presence of her two deputies that prompted my sheriff friend to grill me like we’d never met and I was under suspicion of murder.

  Or, if I was going to be totally honest, it was probably just my guilt at being at the center of attention once again that made it feel like Jill had it out for me.

  When Vivian finally made an appearance, the last of the council to do so, I felt my tension ease just a little. Sure, we weren’t besties, but the events of December and her subsequent reveal to me her plan to uncover the truth about the Pattersons had endeared her to me. And, since our typical sniping had ended and trust built between us, I actually really liked her, respected her and sought out her advice and opinions.

  Still felt weird, but I’d take all the help I could get.

  She nodded to me as she entered, her pale cream suit perfectly tailored, a Grace Fiore, naturally. Like she’d wear anything but her (and my) favorite designer. And, to my surprise, she wasn’t alone. Crew followed her in, scowl aimed at Jill before he hurried to me and hugged me, tucking my head under his chin, big body rocking me a little.

  “Are you okay?” He sighed in my ear. “Stupid question. You’re always okay. Fee, what happened?”

  “I’d like to know, too.” Vivian joined us, Rosebert lingering. Only when she spun on them and pointed at the door, imperious and cold, did they leave as a unit, though I noted Rose pausing by the exit on the other side of the threshold as the mayor returned her attention to me. “Are you okay, Fee?”

  I nodded, pulling free of my husband, hands sliding deep in my jean’s pockets as if I could anchor myself by stopping their shaking. “Sorry about this, guys,” I said. “Kind of a Fee Fleming record I wasn’t planning on breaking.” My joke didn’t win any support so I rushed on. “I was actually here to see you, Viv.” I leaned into Crew who instantly supported me again. “When I realized you weren’t in your office, I decided to talk to Geoffrey about the assault charge.” I looked up into those gorgeous blue eyes I loved. “I should have stayed away, too, I guess. But I couldn’t let him ruin everything, Crew. Not after what we’ve been through.”

  He kissed my forehead. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said.

  Jill sighed, her phone on record still held out between us. “As long as you didn’t kill him,” she said, voice dull. “Or that diver yesterday.”

  Even Vivian looked shocked at the suggestion while the sheriff winced and shook her head, her blonde ponytail bouncing against her back.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Rough day.”

  Tell me about it. “No, Jill,” I said, then tried again, “Sheriff Wagner, I did not kill Geoffrey Jenkins or Gregg Brown. And, until we have proof either of them was murdered, maybe there are other questions to be asked.”

  Jill chewed her bottom lip, only then meeting Crew’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’m going to need a timeline of your activities since last night.”

  He nodded while outrage hit me hard in the gut. “It’s all right, Jill,” he said, deep voice tired. “I understand.” Crew met my gaze again. “She has to eliminate me as a suspect, Fee. I’d do the same thing.”

  Dr. Aberstock arrived, saving Jill from a very angry tirade in which I was about to tell her just how far she could shove her questions for my innocent husband. He left me to join the sheriff in a corner, voices low, while the doc headed around the desk and immediately went to work on Geoffrey’s still body.

  “Apologies for my late arrival,” he said in his familiar joviality. “Busy day in the morgue.” His eyes met mine, a slow wink descending. “Keeping me on my toes, are you, Fee?”

  I shot him a wry smile with no humor in it. “Tell me he spontaneously expired from being a horrible person, would you?” And Gregg Brown, too, for that matter.

  But the faint frown on Dr. Aberstock’s face told me he already suspected murder. “I’ll have to conduct an autopsy to be sure,” he said, “but I’m afraid this death doesn’t look natural.” He sighed and straightened. “Sorry, Fee.” He fiddled with what looked like a turkey thermometer, pointed end disappearing out of my view, thankfully, because I k new where he was sticking it and my stomach was already upset. “I have a general time of death, Jillian, if you’d like?”

  She seemed to hold her breath, but nodded once, sharply, in response.

  “Liver temp is no help,” he said while I did my best not to let the panic in my chest win. “But he is in full rigor.” The doc stood back a moment. “From the corneal clouding, I’d say sometime between 10AM and 1PM yesterday.”

  Yesterday. Encompassing lunch time. When Crew was supposed to be at the yacht club with us but had gone to town to talk to Geoffrey by his own admission.

  I guess I should have felt vindicated no one reported Geoffrey missing, not even his wife. Did that mean he was also out of favor with the Pattersons he always seemed so keen on protecting?

  I met my husband’s eyes, saw his grim understanding, caught his faint headshake before he and Jill spoke again, whispering now. Crew had both hands on his hips, jaw tight, a sure sign of agitation. No way did my husband kill Geoffrey. I knew him better than that. But did he have a solid alibi?

  Not from his wife.

  Apparently Jill didn’t like what he had to tell her because a moment later she and Crew headed for the door. He paused long enough to kiss me one more time, quick and soft on the lips, before leaving with her.

  “I’ll be home later,” he said in passing on his way out, as though there was nothing to worry about. I let him go without comment, surprised when Vivian’s hand caught mine and squeezed it. She still startled me sometimes. I’d never been at the receiving end of her empathy, didn’t even know it lived inside her. I’d first seen the fact she could care about another human being when Grace had been accused of murder. With Vivian’s compassion aimed in my direction, I appreciated fully the strong and silent presence of the powerhouse woman I’d come to admire and, even, adore just a little bit.

  Just a little.

  “Olivia warned me,” I whispered while Vivian glanced my way.

  “About?” She kept her own voice down, the sound of Rose and Robert talking loudly outside the door telling me they were delighted to help Jill escort my husband to t
he sheriff’s office for a conversation. I hesitated. Maybe I should go with him. Only to feel my phone vibrate. I looked down at the incoming text message while Vivian waited for me to answer and relief washed over me.

  John and I are in the lobby. Liz’s text read like she spoke, terse and professional. Escorting Crew personally. Let us handle this. And then, a moment later. Hope you’re okay.

  I sighed over the last line and shrugged. Looked up at Vivian. Who waited, patient and silent. Right, she’d asked me about my cryptic Olivia comment.

  Was it any wonder I had the beginning of a splitting headache?

  I told her about the former mayor’s visit while the two familiar EMTs—I needed to learn their names if I was going to be in their presence as often as this, just to play nice—arrived with their gurney to take the body to the morgue. Dr. Aberstock joined us, snapping off his rubber gloves and watching as the pair took care of Geoffrey’s corpse.

  “Does this mean you’re thinking the Pattersons are targeting you and Crew?” Vivian waited until the EMTs had left before speaking, still in a whisper.

  “It’s possible,” Dr. Aberstock answered for me. “And I certainly wouldn’t put anything past them.”

  “But why Geoffrey?” As far as I knew, he was a line toeing member of the clan. Their heavy, the shark face in charge of bullying everyone into submission. Why kill him if he was loyal? I shook my head, angry again all of a sudden. “Gregg Brown, fine. I can see that. The man was far from loved. But Geoffrey?” It didn’t make any sense.

  “Unless he’d recently done something to betray the family.” Vivian seemed tense all of a sudden. “There has been some unrest.” She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her French manicured fingers on her forearm. “One thing is for certain, however. Neither you nor Crew had anything to do with it.”

  Nice of her to be so sure. Dr. Aberstock nodded. Okay, so I had these two on my side. Our side. If only I could be sure of Jill.

  “Liz and Dad are going with Crew to the sheriff’s office,” I said. “They’ll keep an eye on things.” As much as I wanted to be there for him, those two were much better equipped to handle legal matters. Besides, my presence would cause more harm than good at this point. And anyway, my strength lay in uncovering truths people normally didn’t talk about out loud. I had to accept my husband knew how to handle himself.

  “I do have some information for you about Mr. Brown.” The doc took a half step closer while Vivian and I leaned in to take in every whispered word. “First, I’m positive he was murdered.” Great. “And while I’m pretty sure I know how, I’m waiting on final lab results.” Sometimes I thought the doc loved holding off information just to make me nuts. But he was right to keep it to himself until he knew for sure. Still. “The other item, however, is much more exciting.” Leave it to Dr. Aberstock to find something thrilling in murder. “It’s less about what I found in the body and more about what I found on it.”

  “I’m not in the mood for a riddle,” I said, not meaning to grumble, but come on.

  “I’d rather show you, if you don’t mind?” He leaned away. “Meet me at the morgue and I’m happy to share my findings.” With that, he left.

  And, like a sucker for a mystery, I followed him, but not before pausing to hug Vivian in thanks.

  “It’s going to be all right,” she said. Was she choked up? When I pulled away, she cleared her throat, blinking a moment before her poise returned. “Take care of yourself, Fee.”

  It was a tense and pensive drive to the hospital, though when I passed through the doors to Dr. Aberstock’s domain, he pounced on me so quickly my tension turned to startled shock at the sight of his beaming smile.

  He dragged me without a word to the far end of the room, to a small, locked drawer under one of the larger doors where he stored his guests. He quickly opened the narrow lock with a small, silver key, sliding it out so quickly three round, gold objects impacted the front of it, ringing softly from the contact.

  While I gaped down at the shining doubloons, Dr. Aberstock’s jocular mood was justified.

  “I found these in his waist pouch,” the doc said. “Fee, I think Gregg Brown found the treasure just before he died.”

  Which meant, regardless of what I’d thought of the man, he’d done what the others said he would.

  Dead or alive, the treasure hunter had uncovered the Reading hoard.

  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  A small jolt of panic set in. “Tell me he didn’t die before he could tell us where.” That would be just awesome.

  But Dr. Aberstock winked and held up a familiar looking dive computer. “I have the coordinates and the depth at which he made his find,” he said. “Which means, now, so do you and the team.”

  I hugged him quickly, on impulse, though it was honestly hard to maintain any level of excitement with the headache I was dealing with and the events of the last twenty-four hours weighing on me.

  Dr. Aberstock paused, good humor fading into concern. “Fee,” he said, looking in my eyes, his own narrowing. “Are you experiencing any further symptoms?”

  No way I was going back in the duffel bag of death. “I’m fine.” I said. “Just a headache. Can you blame me?” He stared at me, didn’t speak for so long I sighed at last and eye rolled. “Fine, and a little dizziness. Also understandable since I didn’t sleep well last night.” He continued his long, silent stare. “I’m okay. I promise.”

  “If you experience any further dizzy spells…” he hesitated. “I should make you go take another treatment right now.”

  “I don’t have time for that,” I said. “Thanks for this, Doc.” I took a step away, distance like a shield between us. “You can’t give me any hints as to how Gregg died?”

  The doctor shrugged. “To put it in the simplest terms,” he said, “Mr. Brown drowned after ejecting his mouthpiece at 180 feet.” He spread both hands wide, the chubby digits steady and level, unlike the faint shaking still plaguing mine. “As to why he did so… there are causes such as epileptic seizure, heart failure. But,” he gestured for me to follow him to a desk near the door where a monitor showed what looked like a slice of tissue with bubbles in it. “The most likely is some kind of issue with his oxygen mix. I can’t be certain, however, without the lab report. So, until it comes in, I want you to go home and get some rest.” He reached out, touched my shoulder, kind smile almost making me cry. I really had to pull myself together. “Promise me, Fee.”

  I nodded and retreated, heading for home. Two painkillers and a snuggle on the couch with my pug did wonders, though I texted my dad and Liz every two minutes, demanding updates. Which, after answering me once or twice, they both ignored.

  I was about ready to head out to the sheriff’s office myself when Liz sent one final text.

  Don’t you dare come down here, she sent. I mean it. We’ve got it. You’ll just make a mess.

  What did that mean? Growl. Fine. But now restless and unable to pretend otherwise, I paced a moment before my eyes settled on the music box, the frame tucked behind the sofa, and my mind went to the three gold doubloons in the metal drawer.

  If I couldn’t help my husband, maybe I could finally solve the mystery of the missing Reading hoard once and for all. I’d take a win, thanks. Earned it.

  I retrieved the map from inside the frame, rolling it up and carrying it with me, heading out in pursuit of assistance, my pug left at home this time, napping with a full belly. By the time I reached the annex, I was a bit out of breath, oddly, but refused to worry about it. I was tired, like I told the doc. And the headache had retreated, no further bouts of dizzy taking me over. So I was a little weak. Fair enough.

  When I poked around the annex, however, I quickly discovered Mom, Daisy and even the dive team were nowhere to be found. And the few staff I hunted down were no help, which drove me back out onto the street. Knowing the last thing I needed right now was caffeine, I headed for Sammy’s anyway, not sure where else to go and not wanting
to return home just yet. Didn’t hurt the coffee shop was within a block of the sheriff’s office, though, right? Just in case I could be of assistance at some point.

  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to find MC, Chantal and Anja sitting at a table by the window, sipping coffee in silence. I joined them, knowing their terrible mood might not be lightened by what the doc found but needing extra eyes anyway.

  As I sank into the open seat, I spotted Daisy at the counter and waved her over while MC nodded to me.

  “I have news.” I told them what Dr. Aberstock found on Gregg, Day pulling up a chair in time to hear about the doubloons. MC looked interested, Chantal, too. Only Anja, however, showed any surge of enthusiasm, reaching for the map and unfolding it in front of us. Maybe we shouldn’t have had it out in the open like this, but honestly, I didn’t care at the moment who saw what we’d found. The gap where the piece Rosebert possessed remained missing had been filled in by my guesswork, but I couldn’t help but think I’d only had a glance at what was there and maybe I’d failed to spot some important detail.

  And yet, if Gregg had found the treasure, did it matter anymore?

  “Here.” Anja pointed at the odd red line running off in a random direction. “Isn’t this where we were diving yesterday?”

  MC finally caught the bug, leaning in with her brow furrowed. “Along that trajectory, yes.”

  “I hate to be the only naysayer,” Chantal said, sitting back and glaring down at her coffee lid, “but three coins doesn’t make a treasure.” She shook her head, looked out the window. “I know, they could be proof. They could still be a long way from the main hoard. And we’re out of funds to look any further.”

  “Leaving the find open to some other team to scoop.” MC snarled at her teammate before thudding one hand down flat on the center of the map. “I know, I get it. But with the coin discovery, maybe we can convince our funders to step up and front us more cash.”