Trouble on the Books

by Essie Lang

  A—He was seeing Loreena, which doesn’t necessarily mean Duncan was off her list of male friends;

  B—He is trying to build a hotel and casino, which is meeting resistance;

  C—He’d hoped Loreena would help him with that; and

  D—He is a flirt by nature.

  None of which necessarily made him a killer. Or gave him a reasonable motive.

  Chapter Thirty

  What if he’d lied? Shelby bolted upright in her bed. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and realized she’d been trying to get to sleep for two hours with no luck. Possibly because she kept going over in her head what she knew about Loreena. And now that Barry Pellen had inserted himself into her thoughts, who knew when sleep would come.

  So, where had that thought come from? What if Pellen had lied about … what? Well, his interest in Loreena, for one thing. If he had actually fallen in love with her, and if he knew about Duncan, if there really was anything to know about Duncan and Loreena, then maybe he’d murdered her. That would give him a sound, if not clichéd, motive—jealousy.

  Or maybe he had lied about Blye Castle and his supposed disdain for Loreena’s attachment to it. What if he was the one involved in smuggling? He could easily have the connections, being a businessman and big land developer. Maybe he’d used Loreena to gain knowledge about and access to the grotto. And what if she had figured it out, and so he’d had to kill her before she turned him in? Not that Shelby had any proof or even reasonable doubt that any of it was true.

  But it could be true, and the two events might not be connected. There might well be a smuggling ring in the area, but it still might have nothing to do with Loreena’s death. There were far too many questions for such a late hour. Especially when she didn’t have any proof, just suppositions. She wished she could talk it all over with Zack, but she knew he’d just get upset with her. Maybe Matthew was a better sounding board, even though he had also suggested she drop the whole thing. But he had written true crime books, after all, so if she could just appeal to his inner inquisitiveness, maybe his writer’s mind could work this all into some semblance of a plot.

  Right now, she needed something to help her sleep. Hot chocolate was out of the question, but maybe some hot milk might do the trick. She’d never tried it before, thinking it an old wives’ tale. But she was desperate. She slipped out of bed and pulled her robe on without turning on the overhead. The light from the full moon shone through the windows as she made her way downstairs. She thought she heard the dock creaking and wondered if there was a deer or some other wild animal making its way along. She almost tripped over J.T., and even though he rushed to the door, she refused to let him out. Not with late-night creatures on their very doorstep.

  She looked longingly at the fridge, then thought maybe she’d see just what nighttime visitors were making use of the dock. She hoped it wasn’t a drunk trying to get to one of the boats or maybe some late-night two-legged party animals, although it was far too quiet for that.

  She pulled aside the curtain at the front of the houseboat and almost screamed out loud. That wasn’t a four-legged creature but rather someone dressed in black, with a hoodie pulled up over his head. And he was doing something to the ropes that moored the houseboat to the dock. She slowly dropped the curtain back in place and tiptoed to the phone. She’d left her cell upstairs. She grabbed the landline receiver and hid behind the fridge, dialing 911. She wasn’t sure who would answer. Certainly not Chief Stone. The call would be forwarded to the State Police. Sure enough, in a few seconds, a female voice asked Shelby what the problem was.

  She filled her in as quietly as she could and was told to stay on the line and that the State Police were on their way. Shelby felt the houseboat rock slightly and hoped the intruder hadn’t stepped onto it or, just as bad, pushed her away from the dock. It felt like hours passed, but when she glanced at the clock above the fridge, it had only been ten minutes of waiting when she heard the siren approaching.

  That sent her intruder flying back along the dock toward shore. His footsteps pounded against the wood, and the motion rocked the houseboat again. That’s right, scare him away. She could hear male voices in the distance and then the heavy-footed steps of someone walking purposefully toward the houseboat. He knocked on her door, then identified himself as a State Patrol officer. She demanded that he show his badge through the window before she let him in.

  “I’m Officer Target. You phoned about an intruder?”

  Shelby realized she was shaking. “Yes, he was bent down doing something to the lines at the front of the houseboat but then ran away when he heard the sirens.”

  “We spotted someone running and my partner gave chase. The lines, you say? Stay here while I take a look.”

  He returned several minutes later, his flashlight still in his right hand. “The lines aft are secure, but someone was definitely tampering with the forward ones. It looked like he gave up trying to untie them and had started to cut through them.”

  “Cut them? Are they strong? I’m not going to drift away, am I?”

  He shook his head, and she could see the trace of a smile. “Not tonight, you aren’t. We’ll make sure everything is secure before we leave, and then maybe you should have them looked at in the morning. Are you the owner?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m renting it, but I’ll contact the owner. Why would anyone do that?”

  He looked at her closely. “You have no idea?”

  “No.”

  “It could have been some drunk kid on a dare, I suppose. It happens.” They heard more footsteps, and a second officer appeared at the door.

  “I lost him.”

  “He was trying to cut the houseboat loose,” explained Officer Target.

  The second officer nodded, closed the door, and went to check it out.

  “Maybe you’d feel better staying with someone tonight?” Target asked.

  Shelby thought about it. “No, I don’t think whoever it was will try it again now that the police are aware.”

  “It’s not like we do regular patrols around here, and he probably knows it, but you may be right. He might be content with just scaring you, if you’re the target. We’ll let Chief Stone know in the morning, and if it’s kids, I’m sure she’ll track them down. We’ll take a final look around before we leave. Be sure to lock your door and windows.” He touched the brim of his hat and stepped outside.

  “Thank you, I will,” Shelby said, and proceeded to do just that. When she felt safe and heard their footsteps leaving the dock, she realized she was exhausted. She went back to bed, and soon after J.T. jumped up, then snuggled at her side.

  His purrs and the reassurance of his presence finally lulled her to sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, Shelby had just turned on the coffee machine at the bookstore when the door opened. She looked up as Zack strode across the room to her, a stormy look on his face.

  “What have you gotten yourself into?” he asked, with none of the demeanor of their friendly dinner date of a couple of nights earlier.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I got a call from the State Police this morning. Something about vandals or an attacker at your place?”

  “Well, someone tried to cut the houseboat loose, but it might have just been a prank.”

  A shiver snaked down her back, and she knew as she was saying it just how much she didn’t believe it to be true. In fact, she’d spent a restless night followed by a morning being spooked by everything from J.T. jumping off the bed while she was downstairs to a distant boat horn being sounded. Even the usual creaking of the dock, usually a reassuring sound, came across as sinister, and she made frequent checks at the window to make sure no one was trying to pull off a surprise visit. She pushed it all out of her head and gave Zack a friendly but noncommittal smile.

  He snorted. “Not bloody likely. You did admit you’ve been asking questions around town about Loreena Swan. So, I’m wondering, whos
e feathers did you manage to ruffle?” He threw out the question and planted his fists on his waist.

  “I don’t know. I certainly haven’t found anything out, so it seems unlikely as a reason for what happened last night.” Again, she felt a shiver. Was that going to happen every time the topic came up? She sure hoped not.

  “Unlikely to you, but whoever tampered with your ropes had a reason.”

  The phone rang before he had a chance to go on. With relief, Shelby grabbed it, but found herself answering the same questions from Chief Stone.

  Shelby looked over at Zack as she replied and found him smiling, although it wasn’t a smile filled with pleasure. When she eventually hung up, he merely said, “You see? We’re all taking note of it. So, what haven’t you told me?”

  The door to the store was pushed open by a noisy gang of teenagers. Shelby silently groaned. They usually did a lot of talking and looking but not much buying. At least they would make sure her conversation with Zack couldn’t continue. Small mercies.

  He had obviously reached the same conclusion. “I’ll be back,” he said abruptly, and left.

  Shelby tried to get her brain back into gear. She focused on two girls who had stopped at the local-authors stand. One looked to be around fifteen or so, but then again, Shelby was the first to admit she was a poor judge of age. The blonde had her long straight hair pulled back behind her ears, twisted and anchored Princess Leia style.

  The girl beside her tittered, and the bun girl, as Shelby dubbed her, turned back and whispered something. They both laughed and moved over to where a revolving stand held a variety of bookmarks for sale. They took turns spinning the stand.

  A male teacher, who looked to have just recently graduated school himself, entered and blew a whistle. That got everyone’s attention. After he herded the group out, the store became almost spookily quiet.

  When Zack hadn’t returned by noon, Shelby felt a bit let down, but she was also relieved. She hadn’t told him about her visit to Barry Pellen, nor had she told Chief Stone. It wasn’t that she’d intended to hide the details; she just honestly hadn’t thought about him, not when Zack had confronted her so suddenly. She knew she’d need to do so, and relatively soon, to avoid any future confrontations with the oh-so-touchy Zack Griffin. Maybe his case wasn’t going so well.

  She also realized just how slow business had been after the teens all left. She wondered why she’d bothered coming in that day, but it was always hard to know what a day would turn out like, as she’d noted to herself many times. And, she had to admit, she had little desire to be alone on the houseboat. But this was the middle of the day. Not a time when anyone was likely to try anything. What would she do about tonight? Surprisingly, Edie hadn’t called, so she must not have heard the news. If Shelby were to suddenly beg a room, she knew she’d have to tell all and Edie would be worried. Not something Shelby wanted to add to her recovery process.

  “Do you want to take the first lunch break?” Shelby asked Taylor, who shook her head. She’d spent the past twenty minutes doing some intense reading. Shelby wasn’t sure what book she had in her hands, but since it had been so quiet, she had no objections.

  She grabbed her tuna-salad sandwich and walked until she found one of the more secluded picnic tables on the back side of the island. She’d taken the long way around, hoping to bump into Matthew, but hadn’t spotted him anywhere. She bit into her sandwich and wished she’d also brought along a book, although looking out at the water and the odd passing boat seemed to be the perfect thing to do over lunch.

  “I was hoping to find you off on your own, since you weren’t at the bookstore,” Zack said as he sat down beside her. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “This really is the perfect place to relax or eat,” he added, eyeing her sandwich.

  “You didn’t bring a lunch?” She looked at his hands and then back to his face.

  “I never could get into the habit of making something that early in the morning. I usually grab a bite on the go.”

  She gave it some thought, debating whether to suggest he grab something at the Sugar Shack, before saying, “Well, you could grab this other half of my sandwich if you’d like.” She held it out to him.

  “Tuna. My favorite.” He took it from her and bit into it. “Delicious.”

  She laughed. “Hardly, but it works. I guess this is our time to talk, is it?” Might as well meet it head on.

  “You sound like I’m about to make you walk the plank or something. I just want to make sure you realize how dangerous it is to be messing around in a murder investigation.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “I’m not messing; I’m just talking, getting to know people. It is about time. I’ve been here two months now.”

  “Interesting time to take note of your fellow citizens. So, let’s go over this again just in case this incident has refreshed your memory and there may be someone or something you need to add to your original list. Who have you questioned and what did you ask?”

  He kept his eyes straight ahead, watching the scenery, as though what she had to say was of no consequence. She relaxed a little.

  “Okay, I’ll start all over, again. But this might not be the right chronological order. I’ve talked to Carter Swan about his what now appears to be supposed interest in taking over the bookstore in the castle. And his fiancée, who then talked to me about how upset Carter was after our talk.”

  She glanced at Zack, who raised his eyebrows. “And just what was it that upset him?”

  “I got the impression he didn’t like my poking around in his life.”

  “Understandable.”

  “But he did say that it was totally Loreena’s idea to have him in the bookstore. Something to do with her desire to be in charge of everything to do with the castle. He assured me, it wasn’t his idea. And, I believed him.”

  “I also talked to Felicity Foxworth at the Gallery on the Bay about the Heritage Society board. She got a bit upset with me when I suggested that, from what I’d heard, Duncan Caine and Loreena were an item. I think she wants Duncan for herself, although I could be reading her all wrong. She told me about the planned development for a new hotel and casino, which seems to be a touchy subject in town, and that the developer, Barry Pellen, was actually the man in Loreena’s life.”

  She took another bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly, organizing her thoughts. She had nothing to hide. She would tell him everything.

  “And then I went to see Pellen at his hotel last night.”

  “You did what?” He groaned. “Let me get this straight, you just invited yourself over to his room and started asking questions? About the murder?”

  “Not exactly,” she hedged. At least Zack seemed outwardly calm. “We had a drink in the hotel bar, and I asked about the proposed development, and then I went on to talk about his relationship with Loreena. And let me tell you, he was quite forthcoming about it. A bit too much so, actually. However, I didn’t ask any questions about her murder, nor did I imply he could be the killer.”

  “Small wonders. And, I hate to ask this, but do you think he could be the murderer?”

  Shelby eyed Zack a little more closely. “You don’t look like you’re taking this seriously. You’re not, are you?”

  “That’s a look I often get when talking to a meddling member of the public. Now, go on. What did Pellen say to you?”

  “He confirmed his relationship with Loreena and also said that he knew about her seeing Duncan Caine, although he told me they weren’t exclusive. Then he told me exactly what I already knew about the proposed development.”

  “Did he mention any other enterprises planned for around here?”

  “Like what?” She looked at his face closely. “Like smuggling? Do you think he’s the smuggler?”

  Zack shook his head. “I don’t know where you get this smuggling thing.”

  “Why did you ask about any other enterprises?”

  “Because I live here, too. I have a
n opinion about whether or not we need more expansion and, in particular, a casino.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  After a couple of minutes, he prompted, “And? That can’t have been everyone. I mean, it’s been over two weeks since the murder.”

  She turned to him. “But I didn’t start asking questions until Aunt Edie got so upset about Matthew Kessler being arrested.”

  “He wasn’t arrested, just questioned.”

  “Whatever. That reminds me, I can’t remember if I mentioned it earlier, but Edie suggested I talk to Mae-Beth Warner, one of the main volunteers at Blye because she knew Loreena fairly well. And Mae-Beth told me that there’d been an argument between Loreena and Regan Jones, one of the volunteers, over something that certainly didn’t sound like it would end in murder.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. What was it about?”

  “Apparently, Regan had some suggestions to do with all the groups of high school tours coming through. She thought it should be a less-structured time, and Loreena thought the opposite. At least, that’s how Mae-Beth explained it to me.”

  She looked at him with raised eyebrows. He nodded and jotted some notes on the small pad he’d pulled out of his pocket, then said, “Is there anyone else who has gotten to know you better because of your inquiries?” She could hear the sarcasm in his voice but also a hint of humor.

  “Not that I can think of.” Although she briefly flashed on Drew Bryant. Not the kind of “getting to know better” that Zack meant, she thought.

  “You see, I was right, you’ve been busy, and any one of those people could be upset with you or spoken to someone else who got upset and tried to make you disappear.”

  She shuddered. He noticed and put his arm gently around her shoulders.

  “I’m getting to feel comfortable in the community, and I really like the people here. Well, most of them,” she finally said. “I’d hate to think any of them is a murderer. Or even a smuggler.”

  Zack removed his arm, and she realized she felt a little sad about that. She didn’t know what to say, so she finished her sandwich in silence. When he’d finished his own portion, he stood up and faced her. “Thanks for sharing your lunch. One of the better tuna sandwiches I’ve eaten.”