by Eve Calder
“I never knew you even liked dogs,” Evan said. “Why didn’t you say so? I’d have gotten you a dog.”
For his part, Oliver sat bolt upright, chin down, saucer eyes laser-focused on Evan. If Kate didn’t know better, she’d have sworn the expression on the dog’s face was disapproval. Or disdain.
But that wasn’t possible. Was it?
“Um, does it need to go out or something?” Evan asked.
“No, he’s just been out,” Kate said.
Evan looked down at his plate. Then again at the door—and quickly away. “Does it always do that? The staring thing?”
“He,” Kate corrected. “And no, he doesn’t.”
“Kinda looks like he doesn’t like you,” Maxi said. “But I wouldn’t worry. He probably won’t bite or anything.”
“Geez,” Evan said, briefly looking up. “Well, anyway, I think that about covers it. And, naturally, the foundation will pay all of Manny’s fees and expenses. Anyone have any questions?”
“Should be interesting,” Manny said, slapping the table. “Coldest case I ever worked. The murder of a four-hundred-year-old pirate.”
“If it makes it any easier, we think we know who did it,” Maxi said. “The captain of the galleon was named Juan Pedro Baptiste. And he was not a nice guy.”
“Might actually help to get some data on the perp,” Manny said. “You got something I could read while I’m out there tonight?”
“Stop by around six,” Kate said. “I’ll make you up a care package with some sandwiches, a thermos, and a good book. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got to go see a man about a birthday cake.”
Chapter 25
Kate was just turning the OPEN/CLOSED sign on the front door when she spotted Manny at the curb. This time, he had John Quincy on a black lead.
The P.I. wore the same khaki shorts he had on that afternoon. But he’d switched Hawaiian shirts. This one was springy green covered in palm fronds. And he’d traded the straw fedora for an olive-drab fishing hat. The “just another tourist” look that was his stock in trade.
The beagle made several stops, sniffing various flowers, and presumably satisfied, he ambled up the walkway.
“Your ex still here?” Manny asked, looking around.
“Long gone,” Kate replied.
“Thanks for that,” he said. “You know, before.”
“No problem,” Kate said. “I’m glad he called you. We’ve been a little worried about the treasure hunters.”
“That’s one reason I took the job. Plus John Quincy loves this place. And the idea of spending a few days at a resort didn’t sound half bad, either.”
“As far as Evan’s concerned, we just met today,” Kate said, bending to stroke John Quincy’s velvety flank. The beagle sniffed her shoes, then gazed up at her. “But there are some things you need to know. This case is a little more complicated than it looks.”
“Aren’t they all?”
“C’mon back to the kitchen,” Kate said, standing. “I’m just finishing up your snack. And I’ll tuck in a few gingersnaps for the little guy.”
“That would be aces, thanks,” Manny said. “Hey, where’s your Oliver?”
“Next door with Maxi. He’s been sticking pretty close to her lately. And that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. How much did Evan tell you about what’s going on over there?”
“Bare bones, if you’ll pardon the pun,” Manny said, smiling, as he settled into his previous spot at the kitchen table. “Some kind of illegal burial from last year. But the web whackos think it’s really some pirate who was buried with his loot. Which is a load of horse hockey, if you ask me.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked, washing up at the kitchen sink.
“I’ve dealt with a lot of criminal types. Nobody—and I mean nobody—buries money with a corpse. What good’s that gonna do? Money’s for the living.”
“These were loyal men,” Kate said. “They lived by a code. It was a show of respect for their leader.”
“Un-uh,” Manny said, shaking his head. “I don’t know where your pirate friend is right now. But I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts he hasn’t got more than a dime in his pocket. Four hundred years or not, those guys were real flesh and blood. Not some fairy tale. They fought for that money. Fought hard. No way they’re just gonna toss it into some hole in the ground.”
“So you believe…” Kate started.
“I’m sayin’ your pirate friend might be out here somewhere. But his treasure is long gone. Probably spent three hundred and ninety-nine years ago on you-don’t-wanna-know what.”
Kate sighed. “There are a couple of things you need to know about the case—the real one, not the pirate one. I don’t know what Evan told you. But the cell service is notoriously unreliable on this part of the island. So if you need to call the cops, just bang on one of the bakery doors, and you can use our landline. I live upstairs.”
“Yeah, I remember the cell bit from last time,” Manny nodded. “Mixed blessing.”
“And the skeleton they found in Maxi’s garden?” she said, folding sandwich after sandwich neatly in wax paper and stacking them in the picnic basket. “The police are telling the public it’s an unreported death or an unsanctioned burial. But there could be more to it than that.”
“Because her husband is an assistant state’s attorney?”
“You know about that?”
“Yeah, and you’re right. It does throw a new light on things. Your friend Thorpe briefed me. Even if he hadn’t, I do my homework. ’Cause in this business, clients don’t always tell you everything. Sometimes they don’t even tell you the truth.”
“Maxi says Peter’s being really odd lately,” Kate confessed.
“She thinks he knows more than he’s letting on? Or maybe he’s cheating?”
“No!”
Manny raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just asking. You say the guy’s a state’s attorney, he’s acting squirrelly, and there’s a skeleton in his yard.”
“Not squirrelly, exactly. Just, I don’t know, uptight. Tense. And this morning he was making a call from their closet. To a 407 number.”
“Maybe he’s worried about his wife?” Manny said. “I mean, one night it’s fortune hunters. Another time, someone’s using the place for a DIY cemetery. His office can’t help. Oh yeah, and his wife refuses to leave town. Your Maxi is a lot like my Margot.”
“How did you…?” Kate said. “You knew all this already?”
Manny nodded. “Sure. Those treasure yahoos were the last straw. Your buddy Buchanan called Thorpe last night and demanded security. Pronto. Thorpe called me. Who do you think Buchanan was talking to in that closet?”
Chapter 26
In the kitchen of the Cookie House, Maxi perched on a barstool as Kate stood at the counter piping a wide stream of white icing onto the side of a large piece of gingerbread.
“Peter did what?” Maxi exclaimed. It was half question, half shriek.
At her feet, Oliver looked up suddenly in alarm. Maxi reached down and patted his head reassuringly.
“Look at the bright side,” Kate said, carefully pressing two sections of gingerbread together to form one corner of the doghouse. “At least he won’t be pushing you to pack up and go to Miami anytime soon. And it will be kind of nice to have an extra pair of eyes on the shop.”
“Ay, not you, too. So how’s this gonna work, anyway? Will Manny help us with Alvin?”
“Right now, Manny’s just assessing the situation,” Kate explained, carefully adding a third side to the structure. “He’s going to stake out the block tonight from his car. And after Carl Ivers installs cameras in your yard tomorrow, he can watch the feeds from almost anywhere. But he’s still going to swing by regularly to make sure everything’s OK. If we get more treasure hunters—or if it looks like it’s going to be an ongoing problem—he’ll hire a couple of security guards to keep an eye on the place, mostly at night. As far as anyone else is conce
rned, he’s coordinating the search for Gentleman George. And that part’s true. But he’s also agreed to reach out to his police contacts to try and find out more about Alvin.”
“Ben will love that,” Maxi said, grinning.
“I know. Manny needs that sketch Ben’s people are doing of Alvin. I’m supposed to get a copy so he can show it to a few of his law-enforcement contacts out of state. He’s hoping someone might recognize it from a police report or a missing person’s report. And he’s going to try to match up descriptions of missing people from a few of the big metro-area police databases with what we know about Alvin.”
“Ay, talk about a super small needle in a very big haystack. But at least he’s helping us.”
“I think that’s the main reason he’s here. He loves Coral Cay. That, and Evan’s putting him up at one of the resorts.”
“I hope it’s the one with the little bungalows. I love that place. But it’s super pricy.”
Kate piped icing onto the fourth side of the doghouse and slipped it carefully into place. She stepped back and held her breath.
“Hey, that thing looks pretty good. If it had a roof, Mr. Oliver could grab his Frisbee and move in.”
“Barb wanted big, so she’s getting big,” Kate said, smiling. “I’ll let it firm up overnight, and tomorrow I’ll put the roof on and finish decorating it. Then we’re all set. So how’s the new doctor getting settled in?”
“Don’t know yet,” Maxi said, sipping her coffee. “Barb says his clinic opens the day after tomorrow. And Mitzy says he’s a real hunk.”
“Mitzy also said Evan and I were settling down happily ever after in a big house in Coral Cay,” Kate said ruefully. “Take anything that woman says with a grain of salt. Come to think of it, I actually met Dr. Scanlon once. When he was house hunting last month.”
“OK, spill.”
“There’s nothing to tell. He seemed nice. He came into the shop. Well, really, Oliver brought him in.”
“Mr. Oliver is drumming up business now?” Maxi asked, grinning.
Hearing his name, the pup looked up.
“Dr. Scanlon had spotted Oliver downtown and was worried he didn’t appear to be with anyone. So he followed him. And they ended up here.”
“Hmmm, Mr. Oliver, are you playing matchmaker now?” Maxi said, reaching down to stroke his side.
The dog’s eyes twinkled.
“I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes,’” Maxi said.
Kate glanced at her watch.
“Got a hot date?” her friend teased.
“We both do. The first batch of tomorrow’s contest cookies are done. Carrot cake morsels.”
“OK, I’ll stick around for that. So how’s that cookie contest thing going?”
“We had a fight break out over the last dozen icebox cookies today.”
“See, I told you those things were good. I’ll bet Sam just loved that.”
“Sam was ready to toss everyone out and close the shop. But business has been pretty good, so…”
“So who came up with the icebox recipe?” Maxi asked, carefully stepping around Oliver to get to the coffee maker. “Did you ever find out?”
“Sunny. I’m going to drop her off a dozen when I take the rolls to ‘stretch and starch’ tomorrow morning,” Kate said, using the popular moniker for the yoga instructor’s six a.m. class—which was followed promptly by fresh rolls, local jams, and copious cups of steaming green tea.
“You should go for the class,” Maxi said. “We both could. I don’t know about you, but ever since we found Alvin, I’ve been a little tense.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Sam’s opening the store tomorrow. So if I get us stocked up tonight, I could do it.”
“Just remember,” Maxi said, smiling over her coffee mug, “with us there, Sunny might need a little extra starch with her stretch.”
Chapter 27
“And reach—ever so gently—and breathe,” Sunny enthused, from the front of the class.
At eighty-plus, with a stylish champagne-blond bob and a toned body encased in a navy leotard that disguised nothing, Kate marveled that the instructor was a walking advertisement for her studio.
“Ay, what happens if my body freezes in this position?” Maxi stage-whispered to Kate.
“Then you will be permanently at one with the universe—and you won’t get any tea,” Sunny replied.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Maxi said.
“All right now, folks, the dead man pose. And no talking. Let all those muscles relax and refresh.”
Kate imagined this is what dough must feel like when she left it on the counter after a vigorous kneading. And, for all her quips, Maxi seemed to bounce through the poses without a hitch.
“And that concludes our class,” Sunny announced. “Go out and meet the day—and make it joyous! And remember, tomorrow morning’s class will be on the beach. Weather permitting.”
As the students filed into the lobby for tea, Kate rolled up her fuchsia mat and followed.
“So how are things going with the search for Gentleman George?” Sunny asked.
“Not much progress yet,” Kate said. “I think this is probably going to be more of a long-term project. Very long term, by the looks of it. But I didn’t think you were a Gentleman George fan.”
“Oh, I like the old duffer just fine,” Sunny admitted. “I’ve just never seen the advantage of looking backward when you’re trying to move forward. Besides, for a lot of these folks I suspect it’s more of a marketing ploy. More tourists, bigger crowds at the Pirate Festival. And I don’t believe we need that. A new vet in town? That we need.”
“You’re right,” Kate said.
“Just think of what this island was like back when Gentleman George was here,” Sunny said. “Nothing but salt marshes and sandy beaches with a dozen hidden coves offering safe harbor. A bay full of fish. Trees and bushes brimming with wild fruits and berries. It was paradise. Especially for some poor sot stuck at sea for months at a time. It must have seemed like Eden.”
Kate smiled.
“To my way of thinking, if we want to honor Gentleman George, we take good care of his home. Preserve his real legacy. Because it’s our home now. We need to look after it—keep it up.”
“That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Kate said. “By the way, do you happen to remember anything special that was happening in town back in February?”
“Is this about that skeleton you gals found?”
Involuntarily, Kate grimaced.
“Dear, whatever you do, never take up high-stakes poker,” Sunny cackled. “Let’s see. February. Well, obviously, Sam was making his annual trip. Wherever it is he goes. And Amos’s nephew was in town again. Teddy. Actually stayed for a couple of weeks this time. I don’t know exactly what the situation was, but I had the distinct impression the boy was moving here. Then one day, he was gone. Amos said he’d decided to go back home. He actually seemed kind of relieved,” Sunny confided. “Oh, and that’s about the time we were beginning to see cracks in the Duvals’ marriage. Really a shame. They were such a happy couple. But at the party, it was obvious something was off.”
“The party?”
“Their annual Valentine’s Day bash. Of course, Caroline had taken to calling it a ‘féte,’” Sunny said, shrugging. “But it raised a ton of cash for the library. Huge wingding. Chamber orchestra, costumes, dance band, fireworks. The theme was love, of course. Because of the holiday. But there wasn’t a lot of love between the two of them that night. She was snipping and sniping all evening. At the time, I chalked it up to the stress of organizing the thing. Now, of course, we all know better.”
“Sounds like a real blowout,” Kate said. “The party, I mean.”
“Oh, they used to hold it every year. And it wasn’t just Coral Cay. People came from all over Florida. It was quite the event. I don’t know what Harp will do next year. I can’t think that he’d want to host a Valentine’s Day party alone.”
> “No, I don’t imagine he would,” Kate said, feeling a pang of sympathy. “Oh, I wanted to let you know your icebox cookies were a real hit. If you’re OK with it, I’d like to keep stocking them.”
“I’d be delighted if you did. And Mother will be tickled pink.”
“Mother?”
“My mother, dear. She hasn’t made them in years. Hasn’t had the time.”
“Does she live in town?” Kate asked, intrigued.
“On the far side of the island. Right on the edge of the preserve. She’s got a little cottage. Been in the family for ages. But she’s not there now. She likes to go up north in the summer. To visit my brother, George. Between you and me, I think she just likes to avoid the heat and the tourists.”
“Your brother’s name is George? That’s a coincidence,” Kate said, smiling at the irony.
“No coincidence,” Sunny replied. “It’s an old family name. Word is that we’re descended from Sir George Bly.”
Chapter 28
Walking down Main Street after class, Kate had to admit that Sunny really knew her stuff. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in days.
Just before eight in the morning, it was what Coral Cay residents called “local hour.” Since tourists tended not to hit the downtown area much before ten, locals tended to shop in the cool of the morning.
She’d only been here a scant few months. But it seemed like she recognized more faces—and recalled more names—every time she walked down the street.
In Manhattan, trekking down the block meant dodging pedestrians, bikes, and traffic. Unless you knew someone, making eye contact was rude. And chancy. Here, people waved and said hello. Sometimes, they’d even stop to chat. About everything.
“Where’s Oliver this morning?” Annie Kim asked, as she passed Kate and Maxi on the sidewalk.
“We left him at the flower shop, but that was two hours ago, so now there’s no telling,” Maxi admitted.
“If you see him, send him this way,” the pharmacist said, ducking into the doorway of Kim’s Drugstore. “It’s heartworm pill day. They taste like liver, so he loves them.”
