by B R Snow
“She’s amazing.”
“You need to make sure you get to keep her. This isn’t a good place for her to be now that Bob’s gone.”
I nodded. My sentiments exactly.
“So what about you?”
“Me? Well, Marge did offer me a position as Executive Chef at one of their resort properties in the Bahamas.”
“That sounds pretty good,” I said.
“Yeah, I’ll probably take it. I need to get out of here while the getting is good. No more daily interactions with the Crawfords and their minions.” Then she laughed. “And no more dealing with his endless love for fish.”
“Or maple syrup,” I said, unable to resist testing the water.
Her eyes narrowed, and she stared at me before forcing a smile.
“That’s right,” she said, turning to the sink. “You were the one who found him in the water.”
“He loved his maple syrup, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, her back still turned to me. “Too much. And it just might have been his undoing.”
Great. That’s all I needed. Another suspect. I wondered about what her motive could have been. Forced to cook and eat fish on a daily basis would have been enough for me, but I doubted if that had been enough to turn Chef Claire into a killer.
“Thanks again for dinner,” I said to her back. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I’ve never been called that before. But you’re welcome.”
Chapter 13
I went back into the dining room and discovered it empty. Hearing noise coming from the front porch, I walked outside and found everyone eating cake and ice cream. I sat down next to Josie and watched as she shoveled the dessert into her mouth.
“How on earth do you continue to eat the way you do and not gain a pound?” I said.
“I am blessed with an exceptionally high metabolism rate,” she said, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “You want some?”
“No, I’m full.”
Josie raised an eyebrow at me. “On what?”
“Bacon chili dogs,” I said.
“How many?”
“Only three,” I said, gently rubbing my stomach.
“You’re one to talk,” Josie said, polishing off the last bite of cake.
“What did I miss?”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed the empty plate away.
“Nothing much. And all of it confirms what we’ve been thinking. They all seem to hate each other. But for different reasons. And the only thing they have in common is their complete lack of sympathy for the recently departed Mr. Crawford.”
“Even Roxanne?”
“Yeah, even her. I get the impression that Crawford had either just dumped her, or was about to.”
“Well, Chef Claire certainly isn’t a fan of her.”
“Really? Do tell,” Josie said.
I glanced around the porch and decided the rest of the conversation should wait until we were alone.
“Later,” I said. “Did Jerry behave himself at the table?”
“I guess,” she said. “He made a few comments that I ignored. Then he focused most of his attention on Roxanne. I caught them sharing a few looks that seemed to linger.”
“They lingered?”
“Yeah, big time lingering.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“Not really. But Rosaline sure didn’t like it,” Josie said. “But it was all pretty pedestrian. They were the basic, your place or mine kind of thing.”
“I hope he brought his checkbook.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you ready to get out of here? I need to work off this meal, and I think the walk down to the boathouse just might do it.”
“Sounds good,” I said, glancing down the porch. “Let’s go say our goodbyes.”
We got up and approached Marge who was sitting by herself staring out at the River.
“I’d like to thank you for dinner, Mrs. Crawford,” I said.
“What?” she said, coming out of her trance. “Oh, yeah, you two. Sure, whatever. You’re welcome.”
“I just need to ask you one question. It’s about Chloe.”
“Who?”
“Chloe. Mr. Crawford’s dog.”
“What about it?” she said.
I took a deep breath and swallowed hard before asking the question.
“Do you want her?”
To my delight, she laughed long and hard.
“Me? What on earth would I do with a dog?”
“Probably ruin it,” Josie whispered.
I reached back and gently smacked her on the arm to shut up. Marge either hadn’t heard Josie or had chosen to ignore the comment.
“So you don’t mind if I keep her? I mean, she’s gotten pretty settled into her new surroundings, and I’d hate to disrupt her lifestyle again. She’s been through a lot lately.”
“Disrupt her lifestyle?”
“Well, you know what I mean,” I said, for some reason flushed with embarrassment by my choice of words.
“Keep it,” she said, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. “I have more than enough to deal with at the moment. Besides, the only thing I’d do with it would be to change its name to Bob and scream at it all day.”
For some reason, she found that idea funny.
“Get off the couch, Bob. How many times do I have to tell not to pee on the rug, Bob? Roll over and play dead, Bob. Yeah, that’s it, Bob. Play dead. Good boy.”
She continued to laugh. I glanced back at Josie, who nodded at the boathouse. We waved goodbye to the others and started making our way down the long set of stone steps.
“Weird,” Josie said.
“Weird’s a word for it,” I said, fighting back a touch of chili dog heartburn. “I think the only grief any of them are feeling is the fact that he didn’t go a lot sooner.”
“You got any primary suspects in mind?” Josie said.
“Yeah, I’ve got a list,” I said. “You?”
“I’ve got three,” Josie said.
We reached the boathouse, and I slowly climbed into the boat and started the engine. Josie untied the lines and hopped into the boat with a thud.
“Wow,” she said. “I ate too much.”
“You always eat too much,” I said, backing the boat away from the dock. “What you don’t do is ever gain any weight.”
“Well, if I have to keep eating your dinner to cover for you, that’s going to change,” she said, climbing into the seat next to me.
I turned the lights on, but the moonless night was very dark.
“I think we should head for deep water and just take the long way home,” I said, heading for the main channel.
“Good idea,” Josie said. “You know, now that I’m out here in complete darkness, I can see how Crawford could have just had an accident.”
“Yes, he could have,” I said, pulling on my jacket.
“But you don’t think he did, do you?” Josie said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Do you?”
“Not a chance.”
“So who’s on your list of suspects?” I said, feeling a rush of adrenaline.
“Well, number one for me is Roxanne?” Josie said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, she has a lot to lose. At least from her perspective.”
“I can see that,” I said, squinting through the darkness. “And the last thing Roxanne wants is to have to go back to her old career.”
“Actress?”
“Hooker.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“Says who?”
“Chef Claire.”
“How does she know that ?”
“Prior history,” I said. “She says that’s how Roxanne first met Crawford in LA.”
“So Roxanne lied to us?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she killed him,” I said. “If I was a hooker, I don’t think I’d be telling
a couple of strangers about it.”
“You? A hooker?”
I laughed at the idea.
“Imagine that.”
“I’m trying,” Josie said, laughing along. “The way your love life is going these days, you’re having a hard enough time giving it away.”
“Hey, I’m just extremely selective,” I said. “You should talk. You’re worse than I am.”
“So I’m picky,” Josie said. “Who’s on your list?”
“Roxanne’s on the list, but she’s not my number one. I’m thinking the ex-wife.”
“Marge? But she wasn’t even in town when it happened.”
“Or so she says,” I said, slowing down. “Great. The fog’s rolling in.”
“Just go slow,” Josie said, glancing out over the water. “I hate being out here when it’s foggy.”
“Me too. Chef Claire told me an interesting tidbit about a rumor that the divorce was never finalized. At least from a legal perspective.”
“Well, that would certainly change things,” Josie said, tearing open a Snickers.
“Really?” I said, staring at the candy bar.
“What can I say? Fog always makes me hungry. You want a bite?”
I shook my head and refocused on the bank of fog forming on top of the water.
“Our Chef Claire is certainly a fountain of information,” Josie said through a mouthful of chocolate.
“Yes, she is. And that’s one of the reasons she’s on my list.”
“Interesting. Do tell.”
“It was just the way she reacted to parts of our conversation. And she and Crawford had some history.”
“Horizontal history?”
“She says no,” I said.
“You believe her?”
“I don’t know yet. But she did have some good things to say about Chloe, so she’s earned the benefit of the doubt for the moment.”
Josie nodded and continued to make short work of the candy bar.
“So how were the chili dogs?”
“Fantastic. I doubt if we’ll be able to recreate them, but it’s worth a shot. Who else is on your list?”
“I have the ex-wife as well. And my third one is Rosaline.”
“Me too,” I said. “Why do you think she might have done it?”
“It has to be something to do with her role in the company. She’s so corporate.”
“Yeah, something about her bugs me.”
“Stepford wife syndrome,” Josie said, crumpling the candy wrapper and sliding it into her pocket.
“Exactly. Do companies train them to have that dead-eyed expression or are they recruited like that?”
“Probably a lot of both,” Josie said. “And what was that snippet of conversation at the dinner table about a new will? Things got weird in a hurry when that came up.”
“I know. That was strange. And when Chef Claire mentioned the rumor about the divorce not being finalized, that was when I put Marge on the top of my list. If she is still legally married to Crawford, the last thing she’d want surfacing is a new will.”
“Makes sense,” Josie said. “Say, you don’t think Jerry the Lawyer could be working some scheme with her, do you?”
“Hmm, I hadn’t until now,” I said, rolling the idea around in my head. “Should we put him on the list?”
“Probably couldn’t hurt,” Josie said. “But you’re the one who’s going to have to keep an eye on him. He creeps me out.”
“Great,” I said, frowning. “Don’t forget, we still need to follow up on the house behind the chain.”
“Yeah,” Josie said. “But not tonight. I’m stuffed.”
“So you keep saying. If more than one person is involved, it opens up a whole range of possible partners in crime.”
“Based on what we saw at Tondeuse, we already have Roxanne and Rosaline as a possibility.”
“I don’t see them working together, but you never know.”
“Marge and Rosaline.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Assuming there’s some connection to the business we don’t know about.”
“Chef Claire?” Josie said.
“Absolutely. And she could be working with any of the others. But Chef Claire seems to be the type who’d go solo.”
“Carl?” Josie said.
“The gardener? Now that is a brilliant insight.”
“Thanks,” Josie said, then frowned. “Why?”
“Because he controls the boats. And he’s the perfect choice to use for a cover story about who was or wasn’t using one of the boats that night.”
“I guess it was a brilliant insight, wasn’t it?” Josie said, laughing.
“And now that I think about it,” I said, slowing the boat even more. “If Crawford died in a boating accident and since the boat wasn’t recovered, why isn’t there an empty slip in the boathouse.”
“There isn’t?” Josie said.
“No, that’s why we had to park at the dock.”
“Now that is interesting. So Carl goes on the list.”
“He sure does,” I said. “And somewhere near the top until we know more.”
“Carl could be working with any number of people,” Josie said.
“He certainly could. There’s Marge, Rosaline, Roxanne, Chef Claire, and who knows who else might be out there.”
“I’ll grab a copy of the phone book,” Josie said, laughing. “Assuming they’re still making phone books.”
“What are you babbling about?”
“Suzy, we’ve been on the boat for about fifteen minutes, and our list of suspects has almost doubled.”
“I guess we’re just keeping our options open,” I said, shrugging.
“Either that or we’re not very good at this sort of thing.”
We both started laughing loudly. In fact, we were laughing so loud we almost didn’t hear the roar of a powerful boat approaching us from behind. I glanced back through the darkness trying to see through the fog as it drew closer, then pushed the throttle to full and turned the boat left toward shallow water. The massive boat, running without lights, roared past us on the starboard side, scraped the side of our boat and drenched us with its wake. When I was sure the boat wasn’t coming back, I slowed down, and we drifted, enveloped by a dense patch of fog near the shore.
“Wow,” I said, fighting to catch my breath. “That was close.”
“And not accidental,” Josie said.
“Definitely not. I think we touched a nerve with someone tonight.”
“Yeah. You think they were going for the kill shot or just sending us a message?”
“I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“No,” Josie said, shaking her head. At least I think she was shaking her head. The fog was that thick.
“Let’s get off the River and go home.”
“Good idea,” Josie said.
“You want to stop for ice cream?”
“No, thanks,” Josie said. “I think I just lost my appetite.”
Chapter 14
It was one of those mornings that made you feel glad to be alive. The River was a massive sheet of blue glass as the sun worked its way through the pines. I rubbed the sleeping Chloe’s ears and sipped my coffee as I watched the early morning activities of our neighbors. Mr. Allison was about to head out for some fishing with his grandson. Mrs. Jones, a retired teacher, was already working in the garden. Her tomato plants were off to a great start, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she showed up with the annual basket of canned vegetables and sauces she gave all her friends and neighbors. I returned her wave and Chloe, stretched out across my lap, opened one eye and gave me the why’d you stop look.
“Sorry, but I needed that hand to wave,” I said. “The other one is reserved for my coffee.” Chloe seemed satisfied with my explanation and went back to sleep as soon as I resumed rubbing her ears.
Yes, it was a good day to be alive. But given how close Josie and I had come to getting killed last night, I could be sitting ou
tside in the middle of a frigid blizzard, and it would still be one of days.
Josie, dressed in her scrubs, stepped outside and sat down in the Adirondack chair next to me.
“You’re getting an early start,” I said.
“Yeah, I have a surgery scheduled for eight-thirty. And I have a bunch of paperwork waiting for me. If we’re going to play detective tonight, I won’t be able to get to it later.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said, waving to Mrs. Jones. “But I’m still a bit rattled. We were very close to being fish food.”
“I know,” I said, squirming further back into my chair as Chloe made more room for herself on my lap.
Josie watched and laughed as Chloe ended up with most of the chair. “She’s already getting too big for your lap.”
“Try telling her that,” I said, managing to pick up my coffee. “I thought we’d head out just after dark.”
“Sounds good,” Josie said as she turned her head at a noise coming from inside the house.
“Hellooooo!”
“Great,” I said. “We’re out here, Mom.”
My mother peered through the screen door and stepped outside onto the porch.
“Good morning,” she said, crossing in front of us and standing with her back against the railing as she studied both of us.
“You’re up early,” I said. “You want coffee?”
“No, I’m good, darling,” she said, staring at Chloe. “Have you managed to finalize the adoption proceedings?”
“Yes,” I said. “We closed the deal last night. We had dinner at Candyland Island.”
“Beautiful place,” she said. “How did that go?” She glanced back and forth at Josie and me.
I caught Josie’s eye and gave her a slight shake of my head.
“It had its moments,” Josie said.
“And we ran into Jerry, your financial advisor,” I said.
“Really? What on earth was he doing there?”
“Apparently, he’s helping Marge Crawford out.”
“Interesting,” she said, then shifted gears. “Well, I just stopped by to see if you’re free and would like to join me today.”
“Where are you going?”
“Shopping.”
“You know I’m not much for shopping, Mom.”
“I’m going to Montreal.”
