by Cate Conte
“You were staking the place out,” I said.
“Is that what they call it! Then yes. Yes, I was.” Ava-Rose nodded. “It was exhilarating. Anyway. That veterinarian, Alvin Drake, showed up.” She drank more of her martini.
I frowned. “Really? What was he doing there?”
“He’s on the board,” she said in a tone that suggested I was an idiot and needed to keep up better.
I bit back my How was I supposed to know that? retort. “Why would you be worried about a board member? Isn’t there a rigorous process in place to get the right people on the board?”
“Well, of course there is! But people aren’t always what they seem,” she said. “And nothing can be done about that until you find out.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair at her words. They seemed to be extra foreboding at the moment.
“I thought it was very odd that he showed up there so late at night,” Ava-Rose went on. “He keeps the books for the club, but he doesn’t need to physically be there to do so. He has the software and everything on his computer.”
“So did you catch him doing anything odd? Leaving with anything he shouldn’t have been?” I asked.
“I didn’t,” Ava-Rose said. “But he never went inside. He met someone outside.”
“Who?” I asked, but I already knew the answer in my gut.
“Jason Holt.”
Chapter 20
Val watched me, waiting for my reaction.
I didn’t really know how to react. What kind of business would Jason Holt have with Dr. Drake? Were they friends? Had they met while Holt was visiting? Did Holt have a pet? “So you’re saying they had an appointment?” I asked, trying to follow.
Ava-Rose shrugged. “It’s hardly the weather for an evening stroll, so what else would it be? I didn’t see a car. When Drake saw him walk up, he got out of his car and spoke to him. They stayed outside.”
“Did Holt have a dog or something with him?” I asked.
They both gave me blank stares.
“Well, he’s a vet. Maybe he offered to pay him big bucks to meet after hours and that was the only place Drake could meet.”
“He did not have a dog,” Ava-Rose said.
That was actually a good thing, now that I thought about it. If Holt had a dog with him when he was hit … I didn’t even want to think about that possibility. “How did you know it was Holt?” I asked.
Ava-Rose shrugged. “I didn’t. I saw his picture in the paper this morning and put two and two together.” She poured a scant amount of dressing over her salad.
“So what happened? Drake ran him over and threw him in the water?” I was only half-kidding.
But Ava-Rose wasn’t laughing. “No. They spoke. Then Alvin got angry. He was making gestures and pacing around. I got out of the car and tried to get closer to listen, but I didn’t catch very much of it.” She looked disappointed about this. I kind of was, too.
“What was Holt doing?”
“Nothing, really. Trying to get a word in here and there. Mostly listening. He looked pretty stoic.”
“Okay, so what happened? If Holt walked away, there’s not much of a story. He still could’ve been walking back and someone drunk ran him down. Only difference is maybe Drake was a witness. Was he a witness?” I already had my phone in my hand, ready to call Craig.
“No. And put that phone down,” Ava-Rose said. “This stays here.”
I did, reluctantly, and stabbed at a piece of shrimp in my salad. “Fine. Is there more?”
“After about oh, ten, fifteen minutes of this, Alvin stuck his finger in Holt’s face and said something, then got back into his car. Took off with his tires screeching.”
“And Holt?”
“He walked away. Back the way he came, toward the main road. I waited until they were both out of sight and then went back to the car to leave. But before I turned the corner, I heard a car come speeding down the main road.”
I put my fork down. “You saw…”
“I didn’t see anything.” She paused dramatically. “But I heard it hit something.”
“What did you do?”
Val’s eyes were ping-ponging between the two of us.
“I hit the gas and went around the corner. But the car had sped away. I didn’t see any evidence of a crash.”
“You didn’t see Holt on the ground?”
“No.”
“But you’re positive you heard the car hit something.”
“I heard a thud,” she said.
Maybe it hit him so hard he got thrown. But it would be a stretch for him to be thrown all the way into the water. I thought about that. Granted, the road was narrow out there and there was a grassy area between the road and the drop-off that led to the water. Maybe his body had flown off the road and whoever had hit him waited until later to come back and roll him into the water? Had they seen Ava-Rose’s car? If they had, she could be in danger, too.
I shivered a little and huddled deeper inside my sweater. “Did you see what the car that went speeding by looked like? Did it look like Drake’s car?”
“I didn’t see it.”
“Well, what did you do? Did you call the police?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew the answer. After all, she’d just told me this didn’t leave the table. I looked at Val, who still avoided my eyes while she ate her lobster roll. Glad someone was enjoying her lunch.
“I didn’t. They would’ve chastised me for being there, and I didn’t have any substantial evidence anyway.”
“Did you drive in the direction of the crash?”
“No. I went the other way. But I looked. There was nothing in the road. Listen,” she said, putting her fork down in her nearly untouched salad bowl. “I don’t want to say anything until I find out more about Alvin Drake. There is something not kosher about that man.”
Not kosher didn’t mean a murderer, but I didn’t bother mentioning that. I believed Ava-Rose was more concerned with her missing ships than she was about Jason Holt, but if two problems were solved at the same time …
“So you think Jason Holt was the black-market ship dealer?” I asked. The words sounded ridiculous coming out of my mouth—I mean, seriously—but Ava-Rose gave careful consideration to the theory.
“It’s very possible,” she said.
Oh, boy. “Ava-Rose. I’m still not sure how you think I’m going to be helpful to you,” I said. “I don’t know the man. Although coincidentally, I have an appointment with him tomorrow.”
“Excellent!” She sat back and beamed. “You can question him.”
“Question him,” I repeated, letting the idea take shape in my mind. “You do know he has no reason to answer anything I ask.”
“Of course. But if you ask, he might get flustered and let something slip.”
He might. Or he might be a pro, or at the very least a good actor. But the idea of doing something to find out the truth did have a certain appeal to it.
“I’ll try,” I said, not wanting to appear too enthused. “By the way. Did you see anyone else around? Like someone walking on the street or something?” I really wanted to know if she’d seen Leopard Man there. Had he seen the hit-and-run?
But Ava-Rose shook her head. “No one. It was actually very deserted.” For the first time, she looked a little pensive about the situation in which she’d put herself.
“Ava-Rose. You and Drake were quite possibly the last two people to see Jason Holt alive. Aside from the driver. If the driver was someone else. You need to tell the police. If it was Drake, he’s probably at the auto body shop right now.”
Ava-Rose frowned at me. “I told you my preference. You’ll find out what’s going on with him. Valerie. Tell her what he asked you.”
I looked at Val. “When did you talk to him?”
She picked up a French fry, put it down. “I was in the club this morning before Ava-Rose got there and Drake came in. He started talking to me about the fee Ava-Rose was paying to rent the club for Th
anksgiving.”
“Personally, it’s insulting to make me pay a fee since I’ve put my blood, sweat, and two husbands into the place,” Ava-Rose interjected, draining her martini glass. “But it’s supporting the club, so it’s fine.”
“Anyway,” Val went on. “He told me that with turning on the heat and the lights and paying waitstaff for her party, plus all the hours we’re spending there planning it, it’s costing the club a fortune. And that she was paying a really discounted member fee.”
“How much are you paying?” I asked Ava-Rose. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Two thousand dollars,” she said as casually as I would’ve said ten dollars.
My mouth dropped open. I thought she would say two hundred or something. But two grand? For a dinner? “So how the heck much does he think she should pay?” I asked Val.
“He wanted another grand. Said it should really be fifteen hundred, but another grand was fair. And—he wanted me to not only break the news to her but collect it from her in cash so he could deposit it. Said they were short on cash flow because it was off-season and he had to pay a bunch of bills.”
I frowned. “That sounds wrong. So what did you tell him?”
“I told him he really should ask her himself. That Ava-Rose was my client, not the yacht club. He wasn’t too happy with me. Stalked off to his office and shut the door.”
“Aren’t the lights and the heat on when he’s in there?” I asked.
Ava-Rose smiled. “Exactly.”
“Does anyone know anything about this guy? You think he was trying to get money out of Holt, too?” I asked.
Val looked thoughtful. “For what?”
“Who knows?” I said. “Maybe he heard a famous, well-paid writer was on the island. Maybe Holt wanted a private tour or needed help with research or something. And maybe Drake offered to do it for a fee and Holt turned him down?”
“Maybe you can ask him when you see him,” Ava-Rose said, smiling sweetly at me.
Chapter 21
I didn’t have the appetite to eat the rest of my lunch. Val and Ava-Rose had to leave for a meeting with one of the caterers they were considering for the million-dollar Thanksgiving celebration. It all sounded like an awful lot of work to me, not to mention money. Even without Drake’s proposed raised fee.
Everything that was going on aside, I was grateful to be looking forward to my first Thanksgiving at home in a few years. When I was across the country and running a business, it wasn’t always easy to get home for all the holidays. And my parents always made them special.
I also was cautiously optimistic that Lucas would be with me for Thanksgiving. We hadn’t talked about it yet. His family lived in Virginia, but he didn’t mention them much. Not that we’d talked about the holidays yet, but still. All signs pointed to things going well enough for us that it might be a thing.
Of course, I should probably ask him first. But that was a conversation for later.
I pushed Thanksgiving out of my mind, my thoughts drifting back to my sister and this whole yacht club debacle. I was sorry that Val was in the middle of all this, but I felt strongly that Ava-Rose needed to go straight to Ellory’s office and tell him everything she’d seen. And now I was rethinking my original decision of not mentioning the crazy lady to the cops. I pondered going there now, but I’d be tempted to tell them about Ava-Rose’s run-in with Holt and Drake and that wasn’t my story to tell.
My thoughts turned to Drake. He was a whole other ball of wax. And somehow I’d signed up to question him. I wondered if I should bring Grandpa along. Let him know about this whole weird Ava-Rose business. But if I did that, he wouldn’t let Ava-Rose off without going to the police. And when she found out I’d betrayed her, she would probably fire Val and blackball my whole family on the island, which would be very bad.
So I guessed it was my problem.
At this point I wanted to go back to bed and not wake up until Holt’s hit-and-run was solved and the crazy lady was escorted off the island. Since that didn’t seem like a viable option, I checked my watch. I needed to stop by the market, see that storefront, and then I’d promised Lucas I’d stop by the grooming shop to see him. And JJ was waiting in the car for me.
The good thing was, the storefront wasn’t far from Lucas’s place—which was another point in the plus column of actually renting it—so I could park somewhere near both and just walk between them. I hurried back to the car, relieved to see JJ still sound asleep on his blanket, and drove over to the main drag. The one good thing about the cold season was the plethora of parking spaces. I hit the market first, then drove down a side street and parked.
I scooped JJ into my arms—he only gave a small squeak of protest—and hurried down the street. I found my potential new storefront nestled between two businesses that were shuttered for the season—a Vineyard Vines boutique and an art gallery. Nice. I already liked the high-end theme. I stepped forward and peered into the windows, trying to remember what had lived here before. Unfortunately, stores came and went, sometimes after only one or two seasons. My mom had actually toyed with the idea of opening a shop, which she probably would’ve been great at, given that she was one of the most popular people on the island. Everybody loved my mom. She’d lived here most of her life aside from college, and Grandma and Grandpa were island lifers as well. Plus, she just had that amazing, welcoming personality. Any shop she opened would likely be jammed with people from opening to closing, whether they were actually buying or just in there to chat.
Actually, that was probably why she’d settled instead on an Etsy shop to sell her handmade scarves and blankets, as well as her funky jewelry. Between that and her mystery writing, she kept herself pretty busy. And she’d realized that the cost of the overhead and the commitment to being in the store for a certain number of hours every day wasn’t the way she wanted to live. My mom was a total free spirit. She lived her life exactly how she wanted, whether it suited other people or not. She definitely kept my dad, the straight arrow, on his toes. But he adored her. Everyone did. You couldn’t really help it. Sophie James was a force.
As for me, I still liked the high of being in a store, watching people come in and get excited about a healthy, yummy green juice, bring their friends in, and, even better, return often. Same with my cafe. And I was feeling like this might be a really good location for Ethan and me to jump into our second venture. The space was wide open and empty—now that I thought about it, it may have been a gallery of some sort—and I could already see where we could put the counter and some tables and chairs, along with the refrigerator case for some of the other healthy, vegan goodies we’d had success selling.
I pulled out my phone and sent an email to the Realtor and texted a few photos to Ethan, then headed back in the direction of Lucas’s place. I tucked JJ into my coat and pulled my scarf halfway over my face, to combat the wind that seemed to be picking up, I thought again of Jason Holt and how he might have ended up hit by a car and tossed into icy water. I wondered if he’d been dead on impact or if he’d died in the frigid water. Who would hit someone and not try to get help, if it was an accident? Which was probably why they were using the word murder. Lost in thought about this terrible event, I almost walked right into someone on the sidewalk just as I was nearing Lucas’s. “Sorry,” I mumbled, barely glancing up.
And then I did a double take.
She realized it was me at the same time I realized it was her. The crazy woman from my cafe who wanted JJ.
Chapter 22
I stared at her. She stared at me, her eyes drifting to the bundle in my coat that was JJ, then back to me. For a second that felt like ten years, we were both frozen in place.
Had she followed me? Debated busting JJ out of my car while I ate lunch with my sister? Why else would she show up here, exactly where I needed to go? My boyfriend’s shop, of all places? Last I knew, she didn’t have a dog. Unless she’d stolen someone’s. With everything going on at the moment, my thoughts
went to a much more paranoid place then they usually would. Either way, I wasn’t having it.
“What are you doing here?” I burst out, before I could help myself. “Are you following me?”
She took a step back, startled. “No. No, I’m not following you. I’m just…” She made a gesture toward the other building next to us. The deli.
“Just what? Getting lunch?” I sniffed, although I admitted to myself that it was a perfectly reasonable time for lunch and that the deli was right there. “I don’t buy it.” She’d regained her composure at this point and crossed her arms over her chest. Despite her bravado, she looked more haggard than when she’d been in my cafe yesterday. The lines around her eyes were more pronounced, and the black circles under her eyes suggested something had been keeping her up at night. “Well, I don’t care if you buy it. You don’t own the island.”
“Oh. You don’t care.” I stepped forward and pointed at her, well aware that I sounded a little insane. “You should care. Why are you hanging around me? If you don’t leave me alone, I’m calling the police.”
“The police,” she snorted. “What, your grandfather? You’re the one harassing me. I just came here to get lunch. I’m the one who should be calling the police. And maybe Animal Control, since that poor cat is freezing while you stroll around outside!” She’d raised her voice now. We were having a regular standoff in the middle of the sidewalk. Luckily, it wasn’t too busy given the time of year, but the people who were out on the street were giving us a wide berth.
I bristled. “He is not freezing. He’s wearing a coat and he’s wrapped in my coat. Mind your own business.” I usually wasn’t this rude to people, but I couldn’t stop the words spilling out of my mouth.
“He is my business,” she returned coolly. “He’s my cat.”
I felt my chest puff up like a mama dog defending her pups, but not before the fear her words caused stabbed me in the gut. “This again? Your cat? He is not your cat. You want to call the police? Try it,” I snapped. “And yes, my grandfather used to run that police department. I’d love to see the response you get.”
