by Lyndsey Cole
“Where would Cal go?” Samantha asked in a tentative voice.
Hannah’s head twisted around so quickly her long braid wrapped around her neck like a snake. “I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know,” she repeated. “A hat was floating in the spot where Cal’s boat should have been.”
“A hat? What’s the big deal about a hat?” Jack asked.
“It looked exactly like the hat Dwayne was wearing yesterday. And Blake told me he saw Dwayne hanging around the marina last night after I left. It’s time to tear this backpack apart and see if Dwayne left any clues as to his agenda.” She hefted the backpack onto her coffee table. “Something happened to Dwayne. I’m sure about it.”
What she left unsaid was the worry she had that maybe Cal’s and Dwayne’s disappearances were connected.
She unzipped the big compartment and dumped the backpack over. A big pile of one-hundred dollar bills, all neatly wrapped in packs of ten, spread out on her table. A couple slid off and landed on the floor.
“Should you call the police about all this?” Jack asked. Of course he would think of calling his daughter, Deputy Pam Larson, in an emergency.
Hannah looked at Jack, her face tight with tension. “And say what exactly? Someone left a dog and a bag of money on my picnic table? Oh, and by the way, I think there could be foul play involved?” She glared at Jack. “You know how difficult Pam is whenever I’m involved, and she already thinks I’m a moron. I’ll call her if, and when, I actually have something concrete to call about. Agreed?”
Jack nodded, chastised. He sat on the coffee table. “That is a lot of money. Did he rob a bank?”
Hannah unzipped a smaller compartment and felt around inside with her hand. She pulled out a sealed business envelope. Her name was printed neatly on the front in all capital letters—MISS HANNAH.
Hannah’s heart pounded. If this day didn’t give her a heart attack, she’d be a happy woman.
“Well?” Samantha tapped her foot. “Open it up. It’s addressed to you.”
Everything was moving too quickly and she hesitated before she used her thumb to break the seal on the envelope. A queasy feeling told her that she wasn’t going to like what was inside.
One piece of paper was carefully folded inside. With two fingers, Hannah pulled it out and unfolded it. Neat capital letters met her eyes. This was not the work of someone in a rush. She read it to herself before she reread it out loud.
MISS HANNAH, IF YOU ARE READING THIS, SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED TO ME. USE THE MONEY TO TAKE CARE OF PATCHES. YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS SHOWN ME ANY KINDNESS SINCE YOUR GREAT AUNT CAROLINE DIED. SHE ALWAYS HAD MY BACK. DON’T LET ANYONE TAKE PATCHES AWAY. THANK YOU. DD
Hannah’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “What does this mean? What happened to Dwayne? And where is Cal?”
Samantha took the letter from Hannah.
Jack was on his phone talking to his daughter. “Pam? You’d better come to Hannah’s Holiday Hideaway. We have a problem.”
A flash of silver caught Hannah’s eye. She looked on the floor where a key lay near her foot. It was small, like something for a personal lockbox, she thought. Did it fall from the envelope?
Unseen by Jack or Samantha, Hannah slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. Without any other information about the key, it would be a longshot to find what it could open.
A knock on the door made everyone pause. Hannah started to scoop the money back into the backpack but Samantha opened the door before she was done.
“Am I missing the party?” Blake joked.
Samantha looked at Hannah before she took Blake by his arm and walked out with him, yakking away about the weather and fishing before the rest of her words became indecipherable.
Jack held the backpack open so Hannah could finish cleaning the money off her table. “Did he see the money?” Jack asked, whispering even though Blake was most definitely out of earshot.
“I don’t know. What am I supposed to tell Pam when she gets here? She’ll think I got rid of Dwayne so I could keep the money.” Hannah’s voice rose higher and higher. “You know how she has never liked me. She’d love to use this to put me at the top of the suspect list.”
Jack put his hands on Hannah’s shoulders. “Slow down. What suspect list? Don’t go jumping to crazy conclusions. All you have is abandoned money and a dog. If you had anything to do with whatever trouble Dwayne is in, you certainly wouldn’t have told any of us about the money.”
“You’re right. Everyone warned me to stay away from him. And now this? What does it mean? And he mentioned Great Aunt Caroline. Were they friends?”
“Probably. Caroline always had a soft spot for anyone who was down and out. You are following right in her footsteps and I admire that quality, even if I didn’t agree with you offering Dwayne a job.” He stuffed the last wad of cash in the bag and zipped it closed.
Another knock on Hannah’s door made her look up again.
“Who now?” she said, her irritation dripping from her voice. “It’s not Pam already, is it?”
Jack opened the door.
“It’s kind of quiet around here,” Cal said in a light-hearted tone as he entered. “I thought I’d find you helping Meg. Or, at least, I thought I’d bump into your new employee.”
“Where have you been, Cal?” Hannah asked, ignoring his jab about Dwayne.
His eyebrows squished together. “Excuse me? You’re the one who didn’t answer my text last night or you might have known that I was planning to go fishing this morning.”
“Oh.” Hannah suddenly felt completely deflated. She brushed a few stray hairs out of her face. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“What’s going on? The two of you are acting like your best friend just disappeared or something.” He looked around the cottage. “Why is Dwayne’s dog here? And where is Dwayne? Did he ever show up this morning?” Cal stood with his feet planted like rocks and he looked from Jack to Hannah.
Jack mumbled something about needing to go back to the office and left.
“Hannah? Where’s Dwayne?” Cal asked more directly.
Hannah stood up and glared at Cal. “I thought you might be able to shed some light on that. Do you know what I found floating where your boat was supposed to be this morning?”
“My boat? When did you come to the marina?”
“This morning. When you didn’t show up for work. I got worried.”
Cal approached Hannah and tried to put his arm around her.
She shrugged away. “Well? Tell me where Dwayne is.”
“I don’t have a clue. I saw him at the marina last night. We spoke for a couple of minutes and he told me he was very thankful that you offered him a job. I went to bed and never saw him again.”
“Why did I fish his hat out of the water from your boat slip?”
The color drained from Cal’s tan face. “His hat? Maybe the wind blew it off his head and he couldn’t catch it. What are you trying to say?”
Hannah clenched her jaw. She looked at her handsome friend and wondered if he was hiding something from her. Something to protect her.
Or worse.
She didn’t want to believe it, but until she knew what happened to Dwayne she just couldn’t be sure.
“You think I did something to Dwayne?”
“Did you?”
“No.” He stomped out of her cottage without a glance backwards.
Hannah slumped onto her couch. Nellie put her head on Hannah’s leg. “What a mess. What do I do now, Nellie?”
Nellie woofed like she always did when she heard her name.
Hannah stood up and stretched. Her pity party was over. She had an employee to find and a friendship to save, never mind a business to run.
First things first, though. She stashed the backpack in her closet. At least it was out of view, and she put the small key in her wooden hand carved jewelry box.
Hannah and Nellie headed to her door. She was forgetting something.
Patches.
&nb
sp; Where was Patches?
6
Hannah flung her door open. She didn’t have the foggiest idea about where to start looking for Patches.
Without moving from the front porch of Cottage One, she scanned the area around her four cottages. Nothing. Only the hydrangea bushes danced in the breeze and a noisy catbird scolded someone for disturbing his space.
In the other direction, a few people were sitting under umbrellas at her picnic tables in front of The Fishy Dish. No Patches begging for food.
She had a sinking feeling that she had already failed Dwayne’s one request.
And more bad news pulled into the parking lot in the form of Deputy Pam Larson. Jack’s daughter disliked Hannah from the first day they met after she inherited her Great Aunt Caroline’s cottages.
Hannah threw her shoulders back and smiled as Pam headed in her direction. Her friendly face hid her knotted stomach.
“Jack called and said you have a problem.” No hello. No smile as Pam tilted her head and kept her hand near her holster. “I hope it’s worth my trouble of dropping what I was in the middle of to come check out your problem.”
This was exactly why Hannah didn’t want Jack to call his daughter until she had something more concrete to share. Well, the money was concrete and that could be a starting point.
“Let’s go into my apartment. There’s something I need to show you.” Hannah led the way, her nerves jingling with each step. She motioned for Pam to have a seat.
Pam didn’t.
“I’ll be right back.”
As Hannah retrieved the backpack, she reminded herself to offer as little as possible.
She was turning this potential evidence over to the police and there was no need for her to share any of her suspicions. The police wanted solid evidence and facts and not some fly-by-night assumption.
A lot of good that reminder did Hannah.
She handed the backpack to Pam. “Dwayne Dunn left this here. He’s missing and I’m worried about him.” She mentally slapped herself for breaking her own advice in less than three seconds.
Pam sneered. “You called me over here because of someone’s misplaced backpack? That’s even low for you, Ms. Holiday.”
“Actually, I didn’t call. Jack called you because he thought what’s inside might be of interest.” She wished Jack was here with her for moral support but he was manning her office at the moment.
Pam scowled at Hannah’s correction. She took the backpack and set it on Hannah’s table. “It’s heavy. Did you fill it with rocks?”
Hannah gritted her teeth. She knew Pam was trying to get under her skin and she was determined to ignore the barbed comments and keep any more of her remarks safely behind closed lips.
Pam unzipped the main compartment. She pulled the opening as wide apart as possible. “Money?” she gasped. “Where’d this come from? Is this some kind of joke?”
“No joke. I have no idea where the money came from. That’s why Jack called you to come here. He thought you might want to look into it. Especially since Dwayne seems to be missing, too,” Hannah added.
Pam opened all the other pockets and felt inside. She pulled out the letter addressed to Hannah. “What’s this? Have you read it?”
Hannah nodded.
“It’s addressed to you. May I?” Pam raised her eyebrows and waited for a reply.
Hannah was surprised that Pam asked permission. “Of course.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other while she waited for Pam to finish reading.
Her eyes roamed her cottage and her mind wandered to Patches. She asked herself, if she was a dog, where would she disappear to and the answer was obvious. She’d want to find her person.
Pam’s eyes stayed glued to the paper for longer than Hannah expected one reading should take. She finally folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. “Where’s Patches?”
“He has also disappeared, but my gut tells me he’s looking for Dwayne.”
“Your gut? Isn’t that just what I want to hear?” Pam hefted the backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m taking this with me to the police station. If Dwayne returns tell him it’s safe and sound.”
“How about the letter?”
“That’s staying with the money. For now. Once we figure out where this money came from and if the letter is actually Dwayne’s handwriting, well, I’ll worry about that if we get to that point. All this cash leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I know the letter says the money is yours, but my advice? Don’t spend it.” Pam left Hannah’s cottage. No good bye. No indication if she was planning to look for Dwayne or Patches. Just Pam being Pam.
Hannah didn’t have much time to worry about her next step since a woman in stilettos was stumbling awkwardly through the sand path to the office. A woman with her hair pinned up in a fancy French twist which the ocean breeze was wreaking havoc on. A woman wearing more jewelry than Hannah owned. A woman who had to be rescued from a backside landing and let out a string of words that would make a sailor blush.
Hannah laughed silently before she rushed to this woman’s aid. She extended her hand to pull the woman to her feet but she was met with cold eyes and a curled lip. “Who is the owner of this rundown dump?”
Hannah pulled her hand back. “Excuse me?”
The woman waved her hand in a one hundred eighty degree arc. “This, this, this pile of sand. Where’s the pool? Where’s the lobby? Where’s the concierge waiting to carry my bags?”
“Excuse me?” Hannah uttered again, completely taken aback by the woman’s venomous words.
“Oh, never mind. I’ll get myself to the office and find this Hannah Holiday to give her a piece of my mind.”
Hannah scratched her head. This was going to be interesting, she thought, now that she had time to see the full humor in the situation. She also figured out that this woman must belong with Mr. Blake Winery McVee—his wife, Tiffany, who didn’t like to spend time on his boat.
Ha, he was in for a tongue lashing. Or worse.
Mrs. Winery pushed herself upright and finished her wobbly walk to the office.
Hannah followed.
“Which cottage am I supposed to be staying in?” she barked at Jack.
“Well, I’m not sure. Who are you?” he ran his finger down the reservation schedule. Hannah knew it was an excuse to lower his head and hide his laughter. “Mrs. Tiffany McVee?”
“That’s right.” She actually stamped her sharp heel on the wooden floor. “Who’s going to carry my bags to the cottage? I can’t possibly be expected to manage through all this sand.” She finally turned around to see Hannah standing in the doorway. “You again. Where’s the owner?”
Jack covered his mouth with the tips of three fingers.
Hannah extended her hand to this miserable woman for the second time. “Welcome to Holiday Hideaway. I’m Hannah Holiday. I’ll be happy to escort you to your cottage.”
The woman’s face actually turned bright red, which amazed Hannah. She assumed there wasn’t anything that Mrs. Winery would ever regret saying during her tantrum.
“Well,” she quickly regained her composure, “where’s my husband? Isn’t he back from that important meeting with the inventor?”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. McVee, but your husband didn’t honor us with an agenda for his day. His car isn’t here, that’s all I can tell you about his whereabouts.” Jack handed Hannah a key for Cottage Three. “Maybe he went back to his boat.”
“That boat. I hate that boat. The never-ending rocking always makes me seasick. He lured me here with the promise of a beautiful cottage, but,” she looked directly at Hannah, “no offense or anything, but your cottages look like they could use some major upgrading. I hope you at least have air-conditioning.”
“Oh yes, Mrs. McVee. All you have to do is open the windows and the most refreshing ocean breeze provides for natural air-conditioning,” Jack happily explained. “We have had skunks around occasionally, which isn’t the best odor,” he clearly enjoyed addi
ng.
Mrs. McVee’s mouth opened more and more. Her eyes widened to the size of her gaudy round earrings. “You’ve got to be kidding. Leave my windows open? Skunks? Next, you’ll be telling me people swim in the ocean with the sharks.”
“We haven’t had any shark sightings yet this year, but you could be lucky while you’re staying here,” Jack teased.
Hannah decided she’d better get this panicked woman to her cottage before Jack hit her with any more exaggerations. “Follow me, Mrs. McVee. I’ll get you settled and Jack will bring your bags.”
A loud harrumph sounded from behind Hannah as she walked out holding Mrs. McVee’s arm to steady her.
She unlocked the door for her guest and actually felt a tiny bit sorry for her. That pity lasted for exactly two seconds.
“A queen bed? I can only sleep in a king-size bed.” She marched across the room and opened the bathroom door. “Only one sink? I can’t possibly stay here.”
Not my problem, Hannah said to herself. What was Blake McVee thinking when he invited his wife to stay in such unacceptable accommodations? Was he secretly hoping she’d rush back home and leave him in peace and quiet? Sometimes it was just the thought that counted. And an invitation here was certainly not what Mrs. Winery was looking for.
Hannah closed the door, leaving Mrs. Tiffany McVee to enjoy her misery alone.
The sound of hammering reminded Hannah that she needed to smooth over her earlier conversation with Cal. Of course he couldn’t have had anything to do with Dwayne’s disappearance.
What would be his motive?
7
Hannah glanced back through the window of Cottage Three and saw Tiffany on the phone. Poor Blake. Hannah was sure he was getting a royal chewing out.
The delicious smells coming from the kitchen of The Fishy Dish made her stomach rumble as she headed in that direction.
Hannah’s sister Ruby was busy at the new ice cream window. What a perfect idea that had been, and Cal outdid himself with the new deck to expand the seating overlooking the ocean under a colorful awning.
