Sugar and Vice

by Eve Calder

  “That old Ben Franklin knew a thing or two,” Amos said. “It’s like family. Happy to see ’em come. And happy to see ’em go home.” He clinked cups with Gabe.

  Sam grinned, refolding the newspaper in front of him. “Speakin’ of family, you heard anything from Teddy?”

  “Now you know good and well I can’t talk about that. Even if I am very proud of the boy. Very proud.”

  “Hmm, put a five-spot on Teddy to win Insanity Island—got it,” Gabe said, rubbing his chin.

  “So when they gonna pick up these tables?” Amos asked.

  “Today, this afternoon,” Kate said.

  “Don’t let ’em dillydally,” the grocer said. “They’ll try to charge you for another day.”

  “Girl knows what she’s doing, Amos,” Sam said, not even looking up from his paper. “She’s a partner in this place.”

  “I’m just sayin’ sometimes people try and take advantage, that’s all.”

  “Hey, guys,” Bridget said, from the kitchen door. “Kate, I brought that letter you wanted to see. You know the one I mean?”

  “We’re having some coffee,” Kate said. “Join us. Believe me, we’ve got plenty.”

  “I could use a break,” Bridget said, pulling out a chair. “We’re having a little lull in the breakfast traffic. But it’s gonna pick back up again pretty soon.”

  Kate poured coffee into a mug and handed it over to her. “You guys still haven’t … um, said anything?”

  Bridget shook her head.

  “Talk to the guys,” Kate said quietly. “They can help.”

  “You think?” she asked, reaching over to pat Oliver’s fluffy back.

  “Definitely,” Kate said, encouragingly. “Besides, it doesn’t make sense with everything else we’ve been learning about Gentleman George. He seemed to be a pretty decent guy.”

  “Pirate gossip? Pray tell,” Gabe said, palming a cookie from the plate.

  “I discovered something about George Bly,” Bridget said, wrapping her hands around the cup. “And I don’t know how to tell Barb.”

  “I didn’t realize it, but there’s a lot about that man to be admired,” the mechanic said. “Everyone who worked for him got paid an equal share. And crew membership was strictly voluntary. In those days, that actually made him a pretty decent boss.”

  Bridget hesitated and put the paper on the table in front of Sam and Amos.

  “What’s this?” Amos asked.

  “A letter. From a monk—or he might have been a priest—Father Alfonso. He was on a ship that George’s crew attacked. Afterward, he wrote about it. And he claims George Bly was evil.”

  Amos picked up the paper, put on his glasses and examined it. He passed it over to Gabe.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t read Latin. Or chicken scratch. Man’s handwriting is worse than Doc Patel’s.”

  Gabe studied the page.

  “Sinister,” Bridget said. “He called George ‘sinister.’ And in those days, that meant ‘really bad.’ Like devil bad.”

  “He does use that word,” Gabe said cryptically.

  “Is there anything else it could mean?” Kate asked.

  “Well, possibly,” Gabe said. “But we’d need to learn a bit more about George.”

  “Like what?” Bridget asked.

  “Well, it could also mean left-handed.”

  “George was left-handed,” Kate said quickly.

  “How do you know that?” Amos asked.

  “The portrait. The one Claire had emailed to us from Marleigh Hall. George is wearing his scabbard on his right side. And you’d only do that if you were left-handed.”

  Gabe beamed. “That would explain it.”

  “What do you mean?” Bridget asked.

  “Well, at the very least, we know George and his men let Father Alfonso live,” Gabe said. “Because Father Alfonso was able to sit down later and write this letter. And that tracks with what little we’ve been able to glean about George and his crew so far. And second, Alfonso was a priest from an enemy ship, probably Spanish. I don’t think he was commenting on George’s character. I think he was giving the folks back home a little insider information. He’d seen George fight. He was telling his countrymen that when the battle got up close and personal, good old Gentleman George favored his left hand. He was trying to tell the Spanish how to beat him.”

  Chapter 66

  “That’s the last of ’em for today,” Sam said, locking the door to the bakery. “Gonna make an early night of it. Want to scoot by the library real quick. Pick up a couple more books.”

  “Tell Effie I said ‘hi,’” Kate said. “And you were right. She loves those peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.”

  “Never doubted it,” Sam said, holding up the bakery box in his hand as he motored out the back door.

  Just as he left, Kate heard a loud knock on the front door. She looked out to see Manny and John Quincy on the front porch.

  “Hey, are we early?” the P.I. asked.

  “Early for what?” Kate replied, puzzled.

  “Your friend invited us for a home-cooked meal. She said to just show up here around closing.”

  “That works,” Kate said, as the phone rang. “Come on back—I have to get that.”

  She ran and grabbed the handset from the wall. “The Cookie House, this is Kate.”

  “How would you like to go to a cookout at my house?” Maxi said.

  “Manny just showed up with John Quincy. He said something about a home-cooked meal. You didn’t have enough to do during the Pirate Festival?”

  “It’s kind of a belated welcome party for Mr. George. So we’re inviting a couple of the dogs we know. Plus, Manny needs a good meal. He’s been eating resort food and junk food for too long. I think those pirate dinners were the only real food he’s had since he got here. And thanks to him, no more bobos in my backyard.”

  “So basically, I’m Oliver’s plus-one?”

  “Yup.”

  “What would you like me to bring?”

  “Three dozen of those challah rolls. And I’ll pick up all four of you out front.”

  * * *

  “So what’s with the backpack?” Maxi asked, as Kate climbed into the back seat with Oliver on one side and John Quincy on the other.

  “Books,” Kate said. “I need to run a quick errand. Any chance we could make a stop at Harp’s place on the way home?”

  “Does this have anything to do with that recipe book?” Maxi asked.

  “As far as he’s concerned, I’m just returning Caroline’s pirate books. And it won’t take long, I promise.”

  “Which one is Harp?” Manny asked.

  “He runs the wine shop,” Kate called from the back. “I don’t know if you’ve met him.”

  “Nice work if you can get it,” he said.

  “Wait ’til you see his house,” Maxi said. “He’s loaded.”

  “So is he the new boyfriend?” Manny asked.

  “No!” Kate and Maxi said in unison.

  “OK, OK, I’m just askin’,” Manny said, putting up both hands.

  “He loaned me some books for the Gentleman George project,” Kate said. “I just want to get them back to him.”

  They bounced along, enjoying the sunshine, until Maxi turned down a road that ran along the bluffs. “And we’re almost there,” Maxi promised.

  “Man, that salt air is great,” Manny said, inhaling deeply. “That’s something you don’t get in Orlando. We’re landlocked. Air just sits on you. In the summer it’s like wearing a wet sweater.”

  Behind him in the back seat, John Quincy had his nose out the window, floppy ears blowing in the breeze.

  “This is the place,” Maxi said, as she turned the Jeep up the wide driveway toward the Duvals’ palatial home.

  “Man, you weren’t kidding,” Manny said. “This guy must sell a lot of wine.”

  “It’s family money,” Kate said. “He and his wife both.”

  “
Figures,” the P.I. said. “That’s what Margot and I had in common, too. Our bank balances. When we got hitched, neither one of us had a dime.”

  “What do we do with you-know-who?” Maxi asked, as she shifted the car into park.

  “I was going to leave him in the car,” Kate said.

  “Hey, I’m sittin’ right here,” Manny said.

  “Not you. Oliver,” Kate explained. “For some reason, Harp doesn’t like dogs. And Oliver doesn’t like Harp.”

  “So the three of us can stay in the car,” Manny said. “No problemo. Better yet, we can stretch our legs. It’s not like your friend has a shortage of grass out there.”

  “Perfect,” Kate said. “I owe you one.”

  “I got one word for you,” Manny said. “Gingersnaps.”

  “Done,” Kate said smiling.

  As she and Maxi started up the walkway, Kate swung the backpack onto her shoulder. When she looked up, Oliver was galloping toward her.

  She bent and ruffled the soft hair on his head. “You’ve got to wait here this time. I’ll be right out. I promise.”

  But Oliver, glued to her leg, ignored her.

  Kate looked back at the car. Manny shrugged.

  “He’s got a purple Frisbee in the backseat,” Kate called. “If you offer to throw it, he’ll come running.”

  Manny leaned into the back seat, grabbed the disc, and waved it out the window.

  “Look, Oliver,” Kate said. “Manny’s got your Frisbee. You want to play Frisbee?”

  Oliver looked up at her with a serious expression and fixed his eyes on Harp’s imposing oak door. He refused to so much as look at the purple toy.

  “So it looks like Mr. Oliver is coming with us,” Maxi said. “What’s the plan?”

  “It’s a slim yellow volume, about this big,” Kate said, holding her hands about five inches apart. “I was going to distract him. And I was hoping you could slip into the kitchen and see if you see it.”

  “Sure, ’cause if you steal something, you just leave it lying around.”

  “I don’t think Harp necessarily stole it. The book disappeared back in February. I was wondering if maybe Caroline took it.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe for the party. I don’t think he’d have entered that cookie recipe in the contest if he’d known it was Rosie’s.”

  “So why did he say it was his mother’s?”

  “No idea,” Kate said as the three of them stepped up to the front door.

  “OK, showtime,” Maxi said, reaching out to ring the bell.

  “Ladies,” Harp said, opening the thick oversized door. “And Oliver. To what do I owe this most delightful surprise?”

  “We were on our way home, and I wanted to return your books,” Kate said. “And you were right. They had some fascinating information.”

  “Well, please come in,” he said, glancing down the driveway. “Would your friend like to join us? I can pour us all a nice glass of Merlot.”

  “Don’t mind him,” Maxi said, exchanging glances with Kate. “He’s expecting a call. Some kind of business thing.”

  “By all means come in, and I wasn’t kidding about that Merlot.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say no to sitting in the air-conditioning for a few minutes,” Kate said, fanning herself with her hand. “That car was a little on the warm side. And I’d love to share what I found out about Gentlemen George.”

  For his part, Oliver remained almost surgically attached to her leg. But his focus was on Harp. Kate was relieved to see the pup wasn’t displaying the open disdain he’d expressed toward Evan.

  This was something very different. But at least he was polite and well-behaved.

  “I’m driving, so no wine for me,” Maxi said. “But could I possibly use your powder room?”

  “Of course, you know where it is. Since we’re talking books, let’s go into the library,” Harp said to Kate genially. “I was just sitting in there myself.”

  He led them into a large two-story room that was flooded with light. And Effie was right. These people obviously loved books.

  Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the room in wood so pale it appeared almost golden. A rolling ladder offered access to every shelf.

  The floor was terra-cotta tile, interspersed with colorful glazed tile squares. Sunlight streamed through windows that stretched the full height of the walls. Behind a messy antique desk, Kate spotted a lush potted lemon tree that rivaled the two Maxi kept in front of her shop.

  “This is fantastic,” Kate said. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

  “I think it’s my favorite room, really,” Harp said, smiling modestly. “Well, that and the wine cave, naturally. I designed both of them myself.”

  Harp reached into a small refrigerator behind the wet bar and pulled out two small bottles of spring water. He handed one off to Kate.

  “To recover from your journey,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Harp took the second bottle, poured half of it into a saucer and sat the dish in front of Oliver.

  The dog turned away sharply.

  “He’s been a little off today,” Kate said, embarrassed by the snub. “He may need to see Dr. Scanlon.”

  “I think the crowds on the island lately have been getting to all of us,” Harp said lightly. “I believe that’s why I enjoy this room so. Just peace and quiet.”

  “We missed you at the Pirate Night Dinners,” Kate said, catching the lingering scent of cigarette smoke.

  “Ah, yes. I have to say, I’m afraid I would not have been good company this week,” he said. “I haven’t exactly been in a celebratory mood lately. But I’m quite glad this year’s festival was a rousing success. That helps all of us.”

  Arrrrroooo-ar-ar-ar-arrrrroooooo!

  “What the deuce!” Harp exclaimed.

  “It sounds like a howl,” Kate said.

  Immediately, she thought of John Quincy. Was the dog injured? Was Manny hurt?

  She went running to the front door and collided with Maxi, who was jogging back from the direction of the kitchen.

  “You were right,” the florist stage-whispered. “I found it, and it’s in my purse. But what the heck is going on outside?”

  “I think it’s John Quincy,” Kate said, panicked. “Something’s wrong. Really wrong. We’ve got to find them.”

  Kate looked out the tall front windows. But neither man nor dog was in the Jeep. Or even within sight of the car. They had vanished.

  The gut-wrenching howl continued without stopping. If anything, the din was getting louder.

  Arrrr-oooo! Arrrr-ooo! Arrr-arrr-arrr-oooo!

  Harp sprinted past them toward the back of the house. When Kate, Maxi, and Oliver followed, they found him looking out through a glass wall into his expansive backyard.

  But the wine shop owner wasn’t taking in the million-dollar ocean view. He was fixed on something a little closer to home. Literally.

  Kate watched the color drain from Harp’s face. He sagged until he was sitting on the floor.

  Off to one side of the yard, John Quincy had planted himself by the Duvals’ ornate white gazebo. Head thrown back, he howled for all he was worth. Next to him, Manny Stenkowski knelt, wrapping his left arm around his four-legged friend. He spoke animatedly into a phone in his right hand.

  Maxi was nonplussed. “Must be the big, important business call he was talking about,” she said to Harp. “It’s a wonder he can hear anything over that racket.”

  Kate strode across the backyard with Oliver matching her steps. She reached Manny just as he clicked off his call. He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned his full attention to John Quincy.

  “Does this mean what I think it means?” Kate asked.

  “Yup,” Manny said, with a hint of pride. “John Quincy may have left the force, but he hasn’t lost his touch.”

  “The police?”

  “On their way. I called your friend Ben. Not a bad guy, once you get
to know him. We’ve made our peace.”

  He rubbed John Quincy’s sides. “OK, we’re done here, buddy. Good job. Good job. You’re a champ, you know that? Time to get you back to the car. Then it’s burgers for both of us.”

  John Quincy kept howling.

  Off in the distance, Kate heard a chorus of sirens.

  Oliver padded over to the obviously stressed beagle, standing directly in front of him. For a split second the howling dog stopped and lowered his head. Oliver leaned in and bumped noses.

  Then Oliver trotted back to Kate. She reached down and gave him a comforting pat. But in that moment, she wasn’t quite sure who was reassuring whom.

  Quiet now, John Quincy blinked and looked up at Manny with soft liquid eyes. Manny scratched him behind one ear and took the beagle’s lead in his hand.

  “I wanna get this little guy out of here,” the P.I. said. “I’m takin’ him back to the car. I’ll talk to your friend when he gets here.”

  Kate looked at Maxi, who had materialized beside her, then down at Oliver. “We’ll come with you.”

  Just inside the house, Kate could see Harper Duval, sitting on the floor, staring into his backyard with glazed, unfocused eyes.

  Chapter 67

  After disappearing into Harper Duval’s house for what seemed like an eternity, Ben Abrams finally sauntered out and ambled down the long driveway.

  Kate, Maxi, and Manny—along with Oliver and John Quincy—were sitting under one of the pin oaks in the Duvals’ front yard. They’d spoken to Ben earlier, after which he’d instructed them to stay put.

  “Something tells me we’re not getting that home-cooked meal tonight,” Manny said, as the police detective approached.

  “I’d like to invite you folks in for a comfy sit-down, but the whole blasted house is a crime scene,” Ben said. “I’ve got your preliminaries. But I need you all to come in and give formal statements first thing in the morning. If you promise to do that, I can let you go for tonight. OK?”

  All three of them nodded in unison.

  “Who was it?” Kate asked quietly. “Under the gazebo?”

  Ben sighed. “It was Caroline.”

  “But that’s not possible,” Maxi said. “She’s in Europe.”