by Lyndsey Cole
Of course, Nellie woofed at the sound of Hannah’s voice. She opened the door. “Come on, we’ll find something for Patches.” And for Dwayne, too. If Patches was hungry, Hannah was positive Dwayne would be, too, since he probably fed Patches first.
“I don’t want to be any trouble, Ms. Hannah. You’ve already gone out of your way to give me some work. Maybe I could get a meal for myself and you could take it out of my first paycheck?”
“I’ll find something.” This was not at all how she should be starting out with a new employee, but this was a special case. “Take a seat at one of the picnic tables and I’ll round up something for you and Patches.” Hannah patted Patches’s head on her way by.
She entered Cottage One and filled a small bowl with some of Nellie’s dog food. She searched in her mostly-empty fridge and scrounged up a hunk of cheese and filled her water bottle for Dwayne. She hoped he’d return it, but if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be a catastrophe.
A box of crackers in her cupboard made a satisfactory companion to the cheese. Better than nothing, since she had no intention of actually cooking him something at this time of day.
How would she get rid of him? she wondered.
She checked the time. If she dawdled for too much longer, Cal would be worried. Besides, her own stomach was reminding her that it needed some food.
Dwayne sat exactly where she’d left him. His legs were stretched out as he leaned against the table and stared at the ocean. Patches was curled up under the table but he lifted his head when Hannah approached.
She set the dog food down for Patches. He looked at Dwayne before he rose from his spot and sniffed it.
“He’s not used to dog food,” Dwayne admitted sheepishly. “We usually share whatever food I have.”
Hannah offered the cheese and crackers to Dwayne. “You’re welcome to share this with Patches if there’s enough for both of you.”
Dwayne slid a cracker from the package and held it out for Patches before he helped himself to another one.
Hannah shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
“Sure thing, Ms. Hannah. I’ll be here.” He ate crackers as his eyes stayed focused on the horizon.
“Okay, then.” She hesitated. She wondered if she should ask him where he’d be staying but decided that might open up a can of worms she didn’t want to deal with. She was quite sure he was homeless. She was willing to help him with a job and some food but she wasn’t ready to offer him housing.
“Okay,” she repeated.
Dwayne munched on the crackers and Patches turned his sad brown eyes in her direction.
Hannah walked to her car and drove to the marina.
She was distracted the whole way. It was a good thing it wasn’t far or she would have risked causing an accident.
Was Dwayne too big of a project for her?
She sighed.
“Come on, Nellie. We’ll figure it all out tomorrow.” Nellie happily followed Hannah down the dock to Cal’s boat, Seas the Day.
Right, she told herself, seize this day and worry about the next one tomorrow.
She and Cal didn’t have nearly enough time together lately and she didn’t want to waste it worrying about something that would most likely turn out to be nothing. At least, that was what she told herself.
“Something smells good in here,” she said as she entered the small, but cozy, cabin of Cal’s boat.
“Something different,” he answered. His body was between Hannah and the table so she couldn’t see what they would be eating. “I hope you weren’t expecting pizza.”
“I’m always expecting pizza when I come here.” She laughed and tried to peek around his body.
“Well,” he moved to the side with his arm extended toward the table, “tonight it’s grilled flatbread with sautéed onions, peppers, and artichokes, all topped with fresh tomatoes and melted cheddar cheese. Oh, and homemade peanut butter dog bones from the new pet store, Paws Awhile, for Nellie.”
Hannah kept a straight face and didn’t tell him that his description was a fancy way of calling their dinner pizza. “The flatbread looks amazing. I’m impressed. What about you, Nellie?”
Nellie woofed and made a beeline for her bowl with the dog bones.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Cal opened his tiny fridge and pulled out two bottles of cold beer. “I was afraid you changed your mind; you’re later than I expected.”
She really didn’t want to have this conversation about why she was late. Cal would be annoyed that she gave Dwayne food, he’d worry about Dwayne stealing from her, and their relaxing time together would disappear as quickly as their flatbread was about to.
“You’re quiet. Does it have something to do with Dwayne?” Cal sipped his beer.
Hannah met his gaze. She couldn’t hide anything from Cal; he could read her like the ocean tides. “Yes, but I don’t want it to interfere with our dinner.” She tilted her head and scrunched her mouth. “Okay?”
Cal covered Hannah’s hand with his. “I understand that you want to help him. Great. Just be prepared to be disappointed. That’s all everyone is worried about for you. Dwayne has been on a steady downhill slide for many years. A job and some food is unlikely to turn him around, but there’s nothing wrong with trying.”
“Why has everyone given up on him?”
Nellie woofed.
A face suddenly appeared in Cal’s cabin door. With all the boats so close together, it was hard to avoid neighbors popping in. “Hi, pooch. My name’s Blake McVee.” He patted Nellie’s head and she wagged her tail enthusiastically.
So much for a scary guard dog, Hannah said to herself. And, so much for some needed alone time with Cal. She knew it was selfish on her part, but she resented this intrusion.
Blake pointed to a huge boat across the dock from Cal’s boat. “I’m your neighbor for the next week or so while I check out this sleepy little town.” He held up a bottle of red wine as he entered the cabin without waiting for an invitation. “I brought over a gift. Push over, sweetheart, and make room for a tired old sailor.” He laughed, but neither Hannah nor Cal joined in.
Hannah couldn’t help notice Blake’s pink polo shirt and white, perfectly creased shorts. His sunglasses dangled from a cord around his neck and he wore leather boat shoes with no socks. Ugh, an entitled rich guy with about as much understanding of boundaries as a seagull after someone’s lunch.
Hannah wasn’t in the mood for making conversation with anyone tonight except Cal. Her hope for a quiet and romantic evening just burst like an overstretched balloon.
Cal extended his hand to Blake and made room for him to slide around since Hannah wasn’t making space for him. “I’m Cal and this is Hannah. Come on in,” Cal said pointlessly. Blake was already making himself comfortable on the cozy bench seat.
“Got any wine glasses or should I run back to my boat for some?” Blake asked as he pushed the unfinished beer bottles to the side before he pulled a cork screw from his pocket and proceeded to yank out the cork.
Cal placed three pint canning jars on the table. “Sorry, but this is what I have.”
Blake’s eyebrows shot up causing his forehead to crease but he kept his mouth closed. “I guess the wine, a Merlot from my winery along the Hudson River in New York, will taste fine in any container.” Again, he let out a hearty laugh.
Blake still hadn’t acknowledged Hannah’s presence other than trying to push into her space on the bench seat. She needed to figure out how to escape this suffocating situation. It was just too much to deal with after all the arguments she’d had with everyone about hiring Dwayne. One glass of wine and she would politely excuse herself, she decided.
Blake helped himself to a piece of Cal’s veggie flatbread. “What’s this?” he asked before he stuffed it into his mouth. “Did the little lady make it?”
Hannah clenched her jaw. Cal rubbed his foot up her leg under the table. “No. I made it. But, since you’ll b
e in town for a bit, you should know that Hannah serves the best fried fish platter at her snack bar, The Fishy Dish.”
“I’ll be sure to swing by. It’s always good to know where the locals eat.” He shoved another piece of flatbread in his mouth and Hannah watched her dinner shrink while her stomach rumbled.
She gulped her wine.
“Speaking of the locals, what’s up with the guy that hangs around here with that cute beagle?” Blake leaned back and stretched one arm along the back of the cushion while he sipped his canning jar of wine.
“Dwayne?” Cal asked. “You saw him down here?”
“Sure did, and I think he stole some money off my boat. I had my pocket change, you know, a few hundred dollars, on my counter. And it’s gone. I suppose he needs it more than I do, but should I be worried about the guy?”
Hannah narrowed her eyes and turned toward Blake. “Are you positive it was Dwayne? Or are you jumping to that conclusion because, as you said, he needs it more than you do?”
Blake pulled his head back. “I think I ruffled someone’s feathers. If it wasn’t that guy, who else could it be? It’s not like people that own boats could be short of cash and resort to stealing.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. She downed the rest of the wine, stuffed a piece of Cal’s flatbread in her mouth, and slid off the seat. “Thanks for dinner, Cal, just what I needed.” She couldn’t help adding, sarcastically, “Have fun with your new neighbor.”
“Here ya go, Cal, just us two guys to finish off the wine.” Hannah heard wine being poured into glasses as she and Nellie jumped off the back of Cal’s boat to the dock.
“I should have had dinner with Dwayne. He has more manners than that la-di-da big mouth,” Hannah told Nellie as they walked to her car.
Hannah felt a tiny bit bad for abandoning Cal with his new neighbor. She’d apologize in the morning when he showed up to start work on her new cottage. If he was early enough, she’d even make him breakfast to make up for her disappearance.
Hannah parked her car and headed toward Cottage One, her cottage until the new one was done. And that couldn’t be soon enough.
Nellie detoured to one of the picnic tables with her tail wagging.
Patches sat quietly next to Dwayne’s backpack. He looked at Nellie, then at Hannah, with his big brown forlorn eyes.
“Where’s Dwayne?”
Patches’s ears perked up.
Hannah’s heart raced. Something was wrong.
Nellie whined and nudged Hannah’s hand, reinforcing the urgency of the situation. Instinctively, both Nellie and Hannah knew Patches was waiting for Dwayne’s return.
Where did he go and why did he leave his whole world—his backpack and his loyal dog—behind?
3
Hannah patted Patches’s head and scratched behind his velvety ears as she studied the backpack. Earlier, it had only been a part of Dwayne’s identity, but now, in light of him abandoning his dog and his bag at Hannah’s cottages, it got Hannah’s full scrutiny—black, with a reflective strip running diagonally along the back, multiple zippers and separate pockets for stuff. And the weirdest observation of all: The backpack looked to be brand spanking new, which didn’t fit in with everything else of his, which had the appearance of something pulled from a dumpster.
Hannah slung the backpack over her shoulder and grunted from the weight. She patted her leg for Nellie to follow her and hoped that Patches would either follow Nellie or his master’s backpack.
Patches trailed behind.
One step in the right direction, Hannah said to herself.
She led the way to her cottage and invited Patches inside. He resignedly followed Nellie, and as soon as Hannah set the backpack down, Patches took up his post next to it.
“Did Dwayne tell you to wait with his possessions?” Hannah asked the sad dog. The tip of his tail wagged; another step in the right direction.
A knock on her cottage door made all three—Hannah, Nellie, and Patches—look at the door with anticipation.
“Hannah? Are you home?”
When Hannah pulled her door open, Samantha stood with her hand ready to knock again.
“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Samantha scolded sarcastically as she walked inside. “Were you expecting someone else? Cal, maybe?”
“Yes to your first question, and a definite no to the second one.”
Samantha gazed at Hannah over her glasses but, surprisingly, didn’t ask for more details. “I have some news for you.”
“Oh?”
“Who’s this cute guy?” Samantha crouched down next to Patches. “Didn’t I see him here earlier with that guy you want me to watch?”
“Probably. His name is Patches, and when I got back a few minutes ago, he was sitting next to that backpack. Both belong to Dwayne Dunn who seems to be missing at the moment.”
“Missing? As in gone for a bit, or, like, gone for good?” Samantha asked with her eyebrows raised. She made herself comfy on Hannah’s chair. “Got anything cold to drink?”
Hannah searched in her fridge. She held up a half full bottle of wine. “How’s this?”
“Perfect. I’m too old to worry about being sane and sober, my dear,” Samantha joked.
Hannah poured two glasses, giving Samantha the full-to-the-top glass and sat down with her half glass. The wine reminded her of Cal’s annoying visitor that cut her evening with him short.
“I wish I knew the answer to your question about Dwayne, but something feels really off to me. He arrived looking for food for Patches as I was leaving to go to Cal’s boat. I gave him some dog food and crackers and cheese. When I left, he was staring at the ocean like he didn’t have a care in the world.”
“Or maybe, he had a huge problem he was trying to solve,” Samantha suggested. “Can you call someone in his family?”
“I don’t want to hit the alarm button yet. He’s supposed to show up for his first day of work in the morning, I’ll wait for that. I have no idea what his normal routine is.” She looked over at Patches who was lying down, using Dwayne’s backpack as a pillow. “Maybe Dwayne knew Patches would be safe here with me and Nellie until he gets back from wherever he is.”
Samantha crossed her legs and twirled her glass. The wine was dangerously close to sloshing over the top. “I did some research on Dwayne. Ya know, because you asked me to keep an eye on him.”
“Instead of hanging out with Jack?”
“Jack wasn’t home so I had to entertain myself,” Samantha said. “It was looking like I was headed for a perfectly boring evening until…” She leaned forward.
“Until what?”
“Until I found an article about the Dunn family fortune.”
“Dwayne has money?” Hannah asked. “I was under the impression that his job was dumpster diving by the condition of his clothes. Although, his backpack is brand new. I suppose it could have been a gift.”
“Not a gift from a family member, by the impression I got from this old newspaper article. I bet they were all fighting amongst each other over the content of their father’s will.”
Who’s fighting?”
“Well—” Samantha pulled a piece of paper stapled to a copy of a newspaper article from her large canvas tote bag. She carefully unfolded it.
Hannah fidgeted. “Hurry up.”
Samantha handed the papers to Hannah. “Here, just read it yourself if you’re in such a hurry.”
Hannah scanned the top paper with Samantha’s list of names explaining who the people were in the photo. “Dwayne Dunn, forty two; Marty Dunn, forty eight, executor; Ebony Dunn, forty, Dwayne’s wife; and Tami Dunn, forty five, Marty’s wife.” She handed the paper back to Samantha. “This is the list of everyone involved? How do you know they’re all fighting?”
Samantha waved her hand through the air. “Well, I don’t know it for a fact, but isn’t that what usually happens with these families that have a ton of money? I’m doing what any normal person would do and putting two and two toget
her and, mark my words, it will add up to a big mess.”
Hannah pulled on her braid and rubbed the end on her cheek. “Let’s suppose you are right. If Dwayne doesn’t show up—” Hannah glanced quickly at Patches and was happy to see the dog’s paws twitching in his sleep. “If you are right, then you think foul play could be involved with Dwayne’s disappearance.”
“Could be? No, I’m saying foul play is involved, Hannah. Believe me, I’ve followed enough of these family fights over money to know when there’s a rotten fish in the family.”
“But you were never actually a private investigator, Samantha.”
“Eh. Minor detail. I pretended for long enough and picked up plenty of tidbits along the way. I can read the writing on the wall, and this drama,” she leaned forward, flapping the papers in the air, “has all the makings of a big fight. If you don’t agree with me, tell me one good reason why Dwayne would leave his backpack and his dog here.” She settled back comfortably on the chair with an I’ve-got-you-in-a-corner smug look on her face.
“Well,” Hannah looked up, scrunched her mouth, and shrugged, “maybe he had something important to do and couldn’t bring his dog.”
“Like what? Rob a bank? Or murder a family member?”
“Wait a minute, Samantha. I met him. He certainly has some problems, I’ll agree to that point, but I didn’t get any sense that he was dangerous or I needed to be afraid of him. And Nellie liked him, too. You know how good she is at culling the good guys from the bad ones.”
Nellie woofed when she heard her name.
Patches lifted his head and stared at the closed door.
Hannah’s heart broke for the sad beagle.
“Good point about Nellie. I’ll give you that Dwayne might not be a murderer, but you didn’t give me a reason why he left his most prized possessions on your doorstep.” Samantha reached into her canvas tote and pulled out her iPad. “Take a look at what else I found about his brother.”
Hannah scrolled down to an article about Marty Dunn. Her eyes popped wider and wider as she read. Finally, she handed the iPad back. “So, Dwayne’s big brother is a wealthy inventor with a glamorous wife? Interesting, and according to Meg, Dwayne was the one most likely to succeed. I guess the smarts run in the family.”
