Book Read Free

Murder at the Marina

Page 13

by Ellen Jacobson


  “Maybe you’re the one who’s suffering from delusions!” I snapped. I took a deep breath. That had probably been a bit harsh. I squeezed Sandy’s hand. “It’s just that you told me about the issues you and Jack have been having. You also mentioned your other symptoms, like your cuts and bruises.” Sandy slumped in her seat. “How can you be sure Jack was really here with you? After all, you said that sometimes you have episodes where you don’t remember what happened.”

  “I said Jack’s innocent! He was here all night with me. He couldn’t have done it!” Sandy shouted as she rubbed her temples. “See what you did. My headache has come back. I’m not supposed to get into stressful situations.” She glared at me. “I think it’s about time you left, don’t you?” She stormed down below while I sheepishly climbed off the boat.

  How could I have treated her like that? As a member of FAROUT, I was supposed to support those who suffered from the trauma of being abducted. I’d badgered poor Sandy and made things worse. Lola would have done a better job of managing this situation, I thought to myself bitterly. I might as well tell Brian that he should take me out of the running for the investigative reporter job.

  I went back to the patio, sat at one of the tables, took a deep breath, and typed up an email.

  Just wanted to check in and see what you thought of my report. I know it’s not very good. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’m not cut out for this job. I just made a mess of a follow-up interview with the subject. You should probably go ahead and tell the board of directors to give the job to Lola. I’ll understand.

  I hit Send, then leaned back in my chair and watched the boats slowly swinging back and forth on their mooring balls, while wondering if I should keep pursuing the murder investigation or give up on that too.

  CHAPTER 10

  WEEVILS

  CHOCOLATE. I NEEDED chocolate to help me figure out what to do. A lot of chocolate. I started to worry that Nancy and Ned might run low on their supply of dark chocolate butterscotch crunch. They probably hadn’t counted on me being their biggest customer, no doubt followed closely by Katy and Sam.

  As I walked across the patio to the office, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Diamond sitting at a table looking at some nautical charts and guidebooks. Probably their next adventure, I imagined. They seemed so carefree and happy together. Maybe that would be Scooter and me one day. Sipping on tropical drinks without a care in the world and making plans to sail Marjorie Jane to an exotic island.

  Hopefully, Mr. and Mrs. Diamond wouldn’t end up like Jack and Sandy: a criminal mastermind and an alien abductee. Although, having seen Jack in action, it was probably more like a wannabe criminal mastermind.

  I swung open the screen door and walked straight over to the display of chocolate bars on the counter.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Nancy asked, picking up her flyswatter.

  “Oops, sorry about that,” I said, quickly closing the door. I grabbed a bar and passed it to her.

  “How do you manage to stay so slim eating all this chocolate?” she asked.

  “Scooter eats his fair share, especially lately. He really doesn’t handle things like blood and murder very well. Giving him some chocolate helps to calm his nerves.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Nancy agreed. She looked at my forehead. I was beginning to feel like some sort of unicorn with this thing sticking out of my head, a curiosity that everyone wanted to inspect. “That’s a real beauty,” she said. “Have you been putting any cream on it to help bring down the inflammation and speed up the healing process?”

  “No, the only thing the doctor gave me was some painkillers. Personally, I find that chocolate works better than the pills.” I wondered why she hadn’t asked me how I got the lump. Then I realized that in a community as small as the marina, there probably weren’t any secrets she didn’t already know. I sighed while Nancy rang the chocolate up. She probably thought I’d imagined Jack attacking me too. Of course, she’d take his side. I was just the new chick on the block, or the dock in this case.

  After she handed me my chocolate and my change, she reached into a drawer behind her and pulled out a tube of ointment. “Why don’t you try this?” she asked. “It’s something I concocted. I make herbal remedies using the plants that my daughter grows in her garden. It’ll help soothe your head and bring down some of that swelling.”

  I was torn. I wanted to rip open the chocolate bar, but Nancy was being so nice that I thought I should take a look at the ointment. Greed lost. Politeness won. “What’s in it?”

  Nancy rattled off a whole list of things I’d never heard of, presumably the Latin names of plants. “There’s nothing in there that can harm you. Go on, take it and give it a try. Let me know how it works. I’m always looking for feedback on what people think of my remedies.”

  I shrugged. It couldn’t hurt. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. It’s my gift. It’s the least I can do after what happened to you.”

  “So...what did you hear about what happened to me?” I asked cautiously.

  Nancy replied just as cautiously. “I heard some conflicting stories. Everyone seems to think you got hit by a coconut. It does happen from time to time, but...”

  “But what?”

  “But I also heard that Jack attacked you.” She fiddled with the brochures on the counter. “Is that true? Did Jack attack you?”

  “You’re the first person to think that might be what happened,” I said as I unwrapped the chocolate bar and broke off two squares. I handed one to Nancy and kept the other for myself. “Everyone else thinks I imagined it.”

  She looked at me in silence while she ate her chocolate. Then she leaned over and lowered her voice. “Just between you and me, Jack has a bit of a temper. Lately, he’s had a lot on his mind, so—”

  She was interrupted by the door swinging open as Katy and Sam ran into the store. “Grandma, grandma!” they screamed. “Can we have some candy?” Nancy smiled and handed each of them a lollipop. Katy unwrapped hers while she said hi to me. Sam dove straight into his lollipop, ignoring me completely. I could relate. There were days when I just wanted to eat candy without having to go through all the social niceties.

  It was apparent that Nancy was too caught up with the grandkids to tell me any more about Jack. I went outside and sat on the patio. Mrs. Moto spotted me and ran over. I bet she believed me about Jack. Or she didn’t care. It didn’t really matter. Either way, she jumped on my lap and started purring. Who doesn’t love a purring cat when they’re feeling a bit down? She seemed offended when I told her she couldn’t have any chocolate, even after I explained to her that it was poisonous to cats. Fortunately, all was forgiven when I gave her the empty wrapper to play with.

  WHILE MRS. MOTO BATTED the crumpled paper back and forth, I looked through the book Penny had loaned me. It was full of chapters on topics like “dead reckoning” and “points of sail.” To be honest, it all seemed rather dull. Toward the end of the book was a chapter entitled “Cooking on Board.” This was more my kind of thing.

  I spent the next hour happily reading about how to store grains so you didn’t get weevils in them (use lots of bay leaves), keeping things (like cheese) in your bilge so they stay cool, 101 uses for your pressure cooker (clearly something I’d have to invest in), and recipes that were easy to make when you were underway. There was even a recipe for brownies.

  I put the book down on the table and thought about everything that was involved in cooking on a boat in a tiny galley. Mrs. Moto knocked the wrapper off the table, stared at it for a few moments, then stared at me for a few moments. When I made no effort to pick it up off the ground, she lay on the book and closed her eyes. Clearly, all that playing had tuckered her out.

  While the calico slept, I put my feet up on the chair across from me and thought about Captain Dan’s murder and Jack’s attack on me. I might have dozed off too. Next thing I knew, I heard a loud crash and someone screaming, “Put her in revers
e, quick!”

  I opened my eyes and saw Ned run out of the office to help a frantic-looking couple who were trying to tie up their boat to the fuel dock. “New boat owners,” he muttered as he rushed past. He glanced back at me. “You better not let Nancy see that cat!” I think there had been a chapter in my book about how to dock a boat. That might be a good one to read.

  The noise had disturbed Mrs. Moto from her slumber. She stretched and nudged at my hand, indicating exactly where she needed to be scratched. Once all of her itchy spots were tended to, she sniffed at the book, then poked between the pages with her paws.

  “Be careful, Mrs. Moto,” I said, trying to pull the book away from her. She batted my hand away, persisted in her labors, and eventually extracted a folded piece of paper.

  “What’s that?” I asked. I picked up the chocolate bar wrapper from the ground and gave it to her in exchange for her discovery. I unfolded it and smoothed it out on the table. It was a sales invoice for a car made out to Penny from a place called Cowboy Bob’s Automotive Ranch, dated a couple of years ago. Could that be where she’d bought her pink convertible? If so, she’d gotten a heck of a deal on it. I guess Cowboy Bob could do amazing deals because he had such a big inventory. I knew that because it said so right under his logo.

  I looked at the address for Cowboy Bob’s Automotive Ranch with surprise. It was located in the same city in Texas where FAROUT was headquartered. I wondered if Brian was familiar with the place. Imagine what a coincidence it would be if Brian and Penny knew each other. Maybe Penny knew about FAROUT and was even a member. I thought about how great it would be to have a fellow believer to speak with. If that were the case, she would be able to help me out with Sandy’s case.

  While I tucked the paper into my purse, Mrs. Moto jumped off the table and ran down to the beach. Not one minute later, Nancy came out of the office and yelled to Ned, “Did you get those folks docked okay?”

  “Yep, they’re all tied off. Just going to fill them up with diesel and water, and then I’ll be back in to help.”

  WHILE I WAS NAPPING, Scooter had texted to say that he and Ben were working on the boat, installing one of the new toys he had purchased at Melvin’s Marine Emporium. Calypso music was blaring from the speakers when I got there. It brought back memories of the island where Scooter and I had honeymooned. It was the kind of music that made you want to kick off your shoes and dance on the beach.

  Scooter and Ben were on deck, surrounded by toolboxes. Their heads were stuck in what Scooter called an “anchor locker,” where the anchor chain was stored. I thought of it more as Marjorie Jane’s jewelry box. After all, Scooter was planning on buying a lot of expensive, sparkly chain to store in there. I could make out some swearing from inside. I guess the guys weren’t exactly in a festive, dancing kind of mood.

  “How’s it going?” I yelled over the music. Scooter startled and bumped his head against the side of the anchor locker. He sat up and grimaced as he rubbed his head. “Oh, you poor thing.” I rushed over and looked at his forehead. “I think you’re going to have a bump there. Hey, we’ll be matching!”

  Scooter looked dubious about the merits of matching bumps. At least his would be hidden underneath his dark hair. “Ouch, that hurts,” he said as he got to his feet.

  “Maybe we can have a contest to see who has the biggest bump and who keeps theirs the longest.”

  “No thanks,” he said. “Do you have any ibuprofen? I’m in agony.” I fished a bottle out of my purse. It was a good thing he couldn’t see the tiny cut on his head and the streak of blood. If he could, he’d need far more than some over-the-counter pain relievers.

  “Why don’t you go down below and take a couple of these?” I handed him the bottle. “While you’re at it, you might want to get a wet washcloth and wipe the blood off your forehead.”

  Scooter moaned. “Blood? There’s blood?”

  “Just a little bit. You’ll be fine. I’ll be down in a minute. I want to see what you and Ben have been up to first.”

  Ben put down a screwdriver and gestured for me to look inside the anchor locker. I set my purse on the deck and peered inside. “We’re installing a windlass.”

  “A wind-what?”

  “It’s an electric windlass. It raises and lowers the anchor for you so you don’t have to do it yourself. I’d love to have one of these on my boat,” he said as he stroked the metal contraption. “But at least I’m young and fit.” He flexed his biceps. “So I can pull up my own anchor and chain by myself.” When he saw the look on my face, he added, “No offense, Mollie, but you’re a tiny lady and I’m guessing you don’t work out.” Hmm. Was it that obvious? “Scooter could probably manage just fine, but you both are getting up in age, and sometimes it’s easier for older folks to use an electric windlass.”

  I didn’t like where this conversation was going. Sure, Scooter was a bit older than me, and he had an unnatural fear of blood, but he was still fit and strong. I’m sure that he could lift the anchor up manually. I glanced down at my arms. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start hitting the gym.

  “I’m having Scooter help me as I work on things so that he learns how everything operates. You should join in too. It can’t hurt to have everyone on the crew be able to fix stuff.”

  “When my car breaks, I take it to the garage. Why would I want to fix things when the boat breaks?”

  “Well, a lot of people hire folks to fix stuff for them, which is great for me. Keeps me in beer money, but there’ll be a day when you’re sailing somewhere, and you’re all alone. Then who are you going to get to fix stuff then?”

  Good question. I wasn’t sure I liked the obvious answer. “I should probably go check on Scooter.”

  “Hope his head’s okay. I’ve just got a few things to finish up here, and then I’ll head off for the evening.”

  AFTER REASSURING SCOOTER that his forehead was fine, we decided to sit in the cockpit and have sundowners. Scooter had to explain what they were, but once he did, it made sense—a drink that you had while the sun went down. This was the kind of boating tradition I could really get into.

  It was a pleasant evening, which was a relief after the hot, sticky day. A cool breeze blew off the water, causing the palm trees to sway gently. We sipped on our gin and tonics and watched the dolphins play in the bay. Scooter sighed with contentment. “This is what it’s all about. This is why I bought Marjorie Jane for you. Moments like this. Relaxing in the cockpit, sipping on a sundowner with my best girl.”

  It was almost enough to make me forget that having a sailboat had never been at the top of my wish list, let alone having a sailboat that someone had been murdered on. I took another sip of my gin and tonic and tried to focus on the gorgeous sunset instead.

  Unfortunately, the peace and quiet were shattered by the sound of a dinghy going by. “Scooter, look—that’s Jack!” I watched as he pointed his dinghy toward the far end of the beach, where I had overheard him the previous night. “He’s going back to that same spot. I wonder if he’s going to meet those guys again. Do you think he managed to find the money he owes them?”

  “That reminds me,” Scooter said. “I forgot to tell you that Chief Dalton called earlier. He checked out those two guys you saw at the beach. Their names are Fred Rollins and Wayne Grimm. They’ve both been in trouble with the law before, but they couldn’t have been involved in Captain Dan’s...you know...” His voice trailed off. He took a sip of his drink and continued. “They both have an alibi for that night. Lots of people can confirm that they were at the Tipsy Pirate the whole night.”

  I thought about this. “So that must mean he believed me when I said I saw them on the beach.”

  “Well, he did say he had an obligation to follow up all potential leads. He also reiterated the fact that Jack had an alibi for the night of your accident as well.” He hesitated. “The chief wanted me to mention to you again that people do get hit on the head from time to time by coconuts.”

  The thought of his coc
onut theory and those bushy eyebrows made me fume. I drained the rest of my drink. “Why don’t you fix me another one, Scooter?”

  A few minutes later, Scooter handed me a fresh drink, along with a bowl of pretzels. “What are you thinking about, my little sweet potato?”

  “I’m trying to work through all the suspects in Captain Dan’s...you know.” I scooped up some pretzels. “If the crew-cut guy and his bearded friend didn’t...you know...then who did?” Scooter looked relieved that I’d managed to avoid saying “murder” and “kill” out loud. “Let’s see, we have five potential suspects—Sandy, Jack, Ned, Nancy, and Penny.”

  “What about Ben?” Scooter asked as he pulled the pretzel bowl toward him.

  “He’s a possibility.”

  “I was just kidding. I can’t imagine Ben being involved. Heck, I can’t imagine any of them being involved.”

  “Well, I can. Some more than others. Take Jack, for example. We know he’s mixed up in selling stolen marine equipment, which he got from Captain Dan. It sounds like the deal went sour, and maybe that’s why he...you know.” Scooter appeared unconvinced. “And don’t forget, Captain Dan cheated him before on some anchor chain.”

  “I don’t know. Is that really enough to make you want to...you know...?”

  “Well, if it wasn’t over money, maybe it was over love. You saw how Captain Dan was flirting with Sandy. Jealousy is a powerful motive.”

  “That’s true. I wouldn’t like it if anyone flirted with you,” Scooter said, kissing my hand with a flourish. “What about Sandy? Does she know about Jack’s illegal operation?”

  “That’s a good question. I’ll have to follow up with her.” I took a sip of my drink. “That is, if I can get her to talk to me again.” Scooter looked at me questioningly. “Don’t ask. Let’s just say, I’m probably not cut out to be an investigative reporter.”

  I stared off into space, reflecting on the trauma I’d caused Sandy with my thoughtless questioning. “Earth to Mollie,” Scooter said. “Tell me about your other suspects.”

 

‹ Prev