Murder at the Marina

by Ellen Jacobson

  Mrs. Diamond pulled out her sunglasses and put them on. “I’m a real water baby. If I could, I’d swim in the ocean every day. We were just away for a couple of days at a marine biology conference.” She pointed at Mr. Diamond. “He’s a marine biologist, specializes in sea turtles. Sometimes I think I’m a sea turtle too, I’m in the water so much.”

  “So you weren’t here for all the drama, then,” I said.

  Mr. Diamond pulled a water bottle out of the bag. “What drama?” he asked as he twisted the cap off.

  “Jack Holt was killed on Monday night. I found him floating by the dinghy dock.”

  Mrs. Diamond gasped. “We know him. We were talking to him about buying a used outboard motor for our dinghy, weren’t we, sweetie?” Mr. Diamond nodded. “I can’t believe you found the body. How horrible,” she said, patting my arm.

  Mr. Diamond looked at me curiously. “Weren’t you the lady who found Captain Dan as well?”

  “Yes, that was me. I found him on our boat.”

  “So that means you found two bodies.” He shook his head in amazement. “That must be some kind of record.”

  “Not exactly the kind of record I’d like to have,” I said. I decided to change the subject. “You know Ned Schneider, the owner of the marina? They arrested him for Jack’s murder. They might also be charging him with Captain Dan’s murder.”

  “Ned? I don’t know anything about the night that Captain Dan was murdered, but we saw Ned on Monday night, didn’t we, sweetie?” Mrs. Diamond said. “We went for a swim and then had a picnic on the beach. He was sitting right here on this driftwood the entire time we were here.”

  “What time was that at?” I asked.

  “We were here from about seven to ten. It was all his idea,” Mrs. Diamond said as she squeezed Mr. Diamond’s hand. “It was so romantic. A full moon, warm night, no rain. My sweetie had a picnic basket, wine, candles—the works.”

  Mr. Diamond really was setting high standards in the romance department for the rest of the guys at the marina. A diamond necklace and a romantic picnic dinner. I was going to have to introduce him to Scooter.

  “Nancy told me that Ned doesn’t have an alibi for the night of Jack’s murder. She was at her daughter’s house that night. While she was gone, he went for a walk on the beach. He said he didn’t see anyone and no one’s come forward to say they saw him.”

  “Well, we did wave at him when we walked by that night, but he was just staring out into space, oblivious. Wasn’t he?” Mrs. Diamond asked her husband. Mr. Diamond agreed.

  “We need to sort this out,” Mrs. Diamond said. “He’s such a sweet guy.” She pulled out her cell phone. After a quick conversation, she said, “Chief Dalton is going to come talk to us.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, I sat on the patio with the sailing book Penny had loaned me, doing some last-minute studying. My first lesson began in a couple of hours, and I still didn’t know what a PFD was. Mrs. Moto helpfully jumped on the table and lay on the book. She stretched out on her back, obscuring the section on man-overboard drills.

  While I scratched the calico’s belly, Ned came out of the office carrying a broom and dustpan. He started sweeping the patio, slowly making his way over to where I was sitting. He put the broom down and smiled at Mrs. Moto. “You better not let Nancy catch that cat out here.”

  I returned Ned’s smile. “It’s so nice to see you back here!”

  “It’s good to be back,” Ned said, sitting in one of the chairs and scratching behind Mrs. Moto’s ears.

  “What exactly is it that Nancy has against her? She’s as sweet as can be.”

  “It isn’t this one specifically as much as it’s all cats and dogs. She doesn’t like how they roll around on the beach and then deposit sand everywhere. She’s a bit of a stickler for everything being neat and tidy.” He pointed at his broom. “Whenever I say I’m all caught up on things, she manages to find something for me that needs to be cleaned. To be honest, it’s actually kind of nice taking a break from time to time and getting out of the office.”

  The feline jumped onto Ned’s lap. “She likes you,” I said. “But you better not let Nancy catch you with cat hair all over you.”

  “I’ve got one of those hair-remover rollers in the storage shed. I make sure to clean up all her hair before she catches me. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Moto?” he asked.

  “I meant to ask Sandy why she named her that. It’s a rather unusual name.”

  “Oh, she didn’t name her. I did.”

  “You did? But I thought she was Sandy’s cat.”

  “She is. But I’m the one who found her late one night yowling on the patio. I think her owners abandoned her, or she jumped off a boat and they left without her. I knew Sandy was feeling down about things, and I thought a cat would cheer her up.”

  “But why that name?”

  “You know how I like old movies?” I nodded, remembering our discussion in the lounge right before the police had arrested him. “Well, some of my favorite movies are the ‘Mr. Moto’ ones, starring Peter Lorre as a Japanese secret agent. He wears these glasses that kind of remind me of the black circles around Mrs. Moto’s eyes.” He saw the look of confusion on my face. “I realized after I picked the name that was a she, not a he, hence the Mrs.”

  “What do you think happened to her tail?” I asked. “Was she in an accident?”

  “No, she was born that way. I think I told you she’s a Japanese bobtail? Their tail, or lack of tail, is characteristic of the breed. They’re also known for being very talkative. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Moto?” he asked. She enthusiastically agreed with a loud meow.

  “I have to say, it was strange to see a cat without a tail, but I think it suits her,” I said.

  Ned smiled. “It sure does.” Then his face sobered. “You know, Mollie, I wanted to thank you for what you did for me, finding that young couple who could back up my alibi. I can’t imagine what I would have done if the police didn’t release me. The thought of being locked up and apart from Nancy, our kids, and the grandkids—well, I don’t even want to think about it.” There was a loud meow. Ned chuckled. “And of course, you too, Mrs. Moto.”

  “I’m just so glad I was able to help.”

  The calico yowled, jumped off Ned’s lap, and ran toward the beach. I heard the marina office screen door bang shut. “Ned, what are you doing sitting there?” Nancy asked. “That patio isn’t going to sweep itself.”

  “Just having a little chat with Mollie, thanking her for her help. Maybe we should give her one of those chocolate bars to show our appreciation.”

  “Humph,” Nancy said. She narrowed her eyes, then turned and went back into the marina office.

  As soon as the screen door closed, Ned stood and rushed toward the storage shed. He quickly used a roller to remove Mrs. Moto’s telltale hairs from his clothes.

  A few minutes later, Nancy came out and put a chocolate bar in front of me. “Here,” she said. “It’s a new kind. Dark chocolate mint swirl.” She took a deep breath, put her hands on her hips, and said, “Thank you.”

  “SCOOTER, CAN YOU TAKE this? I’ve got to get going,” I said, holding up a paper bag.

  “Just a minute,” he said. He walked up to the bow of the boat and handed Ben a toolbox. Ben rummaged through it, plucked out a wrench, opened the anchor locker, and started doing whatever it is you do with a wrench. Scooter leaned over the lifelines and grabbed the bag from me. “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Some sandwiches I picked up from the Sailor’s Corner Cafe for you guys to have for your lunch.”

  Ben stopped what he was doing and set the wrench down beside him. “Thanks, Mollie! You didn’t happen to get any brownies as well while you were at it?” he asked with a sly grin.

  “Nope, sorry. Maybe next time,” I replied, neglecting to mention that I had a dark chocolate mint swirl bar in my purse. Mrs. Moto had followed me down the dock, and now she jumped up and sat next to Ben. “Make sure you don’t feed her any human
food. Sandy said it isn’t good for her tummy.”

  “Aren’t you going to be joining us for lunch?” Scooter asked.

  “No, we’re having lunch as part of my sailing class. Unless you think I should stay here instead,” I said, half hoping he thought I should cancel the lesson. The section on man-overboard drills in the sailing book had made me slightly nervous.

  “That’s right,” Scooter said. “I forgot about that. No, you should definitely go. You’re going to love sailing.”

  “Hey guys, look what I found,” Ben said. He reached into the anchor locker and pulled out a compass. “It’s the one we found on Marjorie Jane the other day, the one that Scooter said went missing.” He sat back on the deck and smiled. “Looks like I’ve got a streak of good luck going lately. First, I win eight hundred dollars from a scratch-off lottery ticket the other day, then I find this compass that you lost.”

  “Eight hundred dollars? Wow, that’s a lot of money,” I said.

  “Well, it was a lot of money,” Ben said sheepishly. “I repaid some money I owed, and I’m afraid I spent the rest at the Tipsy Pirate. Oh well, easy come, easy go.”

  Scooter set the paper bag down and inspected the compass. “I wonder how that got in there?” Mrs. Moto stuck her paw into the sandwich bag and tried to fish one of the sandwiches out. Scooter seized the bag from her. He looked at the cat, then back at me. “Remember how you left your purse by the anchor locker when we had sundowners? Well, I think I know how the compass might have found its way out of your purse and into the anchor locker.” He pointed at the calico. She meowed and twined herself around Scooter’s legs. I’d like to say she looked guilty, but we all know she didn’t.

  WHEN I GOT TO PENNY’S boat, I saw Sandy sitting in the cockpit giggling and chatting away with Penny. It appeared that she had gotten over her concerns about the sailing instructor.

  “There she is,” Sandy said. “We were beginning to wonder if you were going to make it, Mollie.”

  “Sorry about that. I was speaking with Scooter and Ben about...” I hesitated, not wanting to mention the compass until I’d found out more about it.

  Sandy leaned forward. “Speaking with them about what?”

  “About Mrs. Moto and how cute she is.”

  Sandy beamed. She patted the seat next to her. “Come sit beside me, and Penny will show us where we’re going on the chart.”

  “Oh, are you coming with us?” I asked. “I thought this was the ladies’ sailing lesson. Don’t you know how to sail already?”

  “I do, but when I heard Louise and Wanda couldn’t make it today—food poisoning, you know—I offered my services to Penny. It’ll be easier for her to have a third person aboard.” Sandy’s eyes sparkled. “You’ll be glad I came. Not only did I bring lemonade and shortbread cookies, but I also brought you a PFD to use. I remember you saying you weren’t sure if you had one.” Sandy held up something that looked like a harness.

  “Is that what a PFD is? A life jacket?” I asked. “I always thought they were bright orange and bulky.”

  Sandy handed it to me. “PFD stands for personal flotation device. If you should fall overboard—not that that would happen,” she said with a wink to Penny—“then this will automatically inflate.”

  I sat next to Sandy and put the PFD on while she explained to me how it operated. While I was buckling it up, Mrs. Moto jumped on the boat, darted over to me, and played with the straps. “Did you follow me?” I asked, pulling the straps out of her way and cinching them tightly.

  Sandy went down below to stow the lemonade and cookies. Penny whispered to me, “You don’t mind if she comes, do you, sugar? I figured it would do her good to get off her boat and get some fresh air.”

  “No, that’s fine.” We listened to Sandy cheerfully singing to herself. “She does seem to be in a better mood than yesterday. I guess those antidepressants are working.”

  TURNS OUT SAILING IS actually quite a rush. The feel of the salt air on my face and the wind whipping through my hair as we tacked the boat back and forth was exhilarating. Watching dolphins frolic alongside the bow of the boat as we slipped through the water was so mind-blowing that when I reached up and felt how tangled and frizzy my hair had become, I didn’t even mind. Of course, I didn’t plan on telling Scooter that I liked sailing right away. He can be a nightmare to live with when he thinks he’s right. He would feel that he deserved two bowls of Froot Loops for breakfast instead of one.

  After a couple of hours, we dropped anchor in a small cove on the north side of the bay for lunch. Penny let me operate the controls for the windlass to lower the anchor. I could see why this might be a useful gadget to have on board Marjorie Jane.

  “Why don’t I go down and get us some lemonade?” Sandy offered.

  “Thanks,” Penny said. “Can you grab the sandwiches as well?”

  “Of course I can, honey,” Sandy said. “Anything for you.”

  Penny and I exchanged glances while Sandy went down below. A few minutes later, she put a plate of sandwiches on the cockpit table and handed us each a glass of lemonade. “You’ve got really darling glasses, Penny,” she said. “I like how each one has a different pattern. I chose the one with the dolphin for you, Mollie, because you enjoyed watching the dolphins so much. And I chose the one with the octopus for you, Penny, because you have your tentacles in everything.”

  “My tentacles?” Penny asked, taking a sip of her lemonade.

  “You know, having your fingers in so many pies. I just don’t know how you do it, balancing running your sailing school with your love life.”

  “I can’t say I have much of a love life these days.” She took a sip of her lemonade. “Mmm. That’s tart, just the way I like it.” She drained the glass quickly.

  I snagged a ham-and-cheese sandwich and sipped on my lemonade thoughtfully. What had gotten into Sandy? Just yesterday, she had hinted that Penny had some dark secret, but today she was acting as if they were best friends.

  “Let me refill that glass for you, Penny,” Sandy said. “Better yet, why don’t you come down with me, and I’ll give you the recipe so you can make some for yourself.”

  I finished off my sandwich and counted how many were left on the plate. Darn, there weren’t enough for everyone to have a second one. Hopefully, Sandy would break out the shortbread cookies soon.

  “Penny is going to take care of a few things down below,” Sandy said as she came up into the cockpit without any cookies. “The wind has really kicked up. See those waves rolling in? Penny wants you and me to check to make sure the anchor is set properly.”

  I followed Sandy to the front of the boat, feeling Pretty in Pink swing back and forth on the anchor. “Watch out for that boat hook,” she said, picking the long metal pole up off the deck. “We don’t want you to trip.”

  Sandy spent a few minutes explaining how to check and make sure the anchor was set properly and why it was so important. “I remember one time, Jack and I were anchored in this very same cove. We had problems setting our anchor, and the next thing we knew, we had dragged and were drifting across the bay toward that rocky shore. Thankfully, we managed to get the engine started in time before we crashed.”

  After that story, I was reconsidering my newfound love of sailing, but then I saw two dolphins swimming nearby. “Look!” I said, tugging on Sandy’s arm. “I wonder if they’re the same ones as before.”

  “Wouldn’t it be fun to go swimming with them?” Sandy asked. “Why don’t you stand over here and watch them for a while? I’ll go check on Penny.”

  I watched the dolphins leap in and out of the water, wishing I could swim as well as they could. As I leaned against the lifelines to get a closer look, I heard someone come up behind me. I saw the boat hook out of the corner of my eye. It crashed into the side of my head. I tried to steady myself by grabbing onto a lifeline, but the boat hook came down hard on my hand, and I pulled back in pain. Two hands seized me by my shoulders. I lurched forward. The lifelines snapped. I
fell into the water, screaming for help.

  When I surfaced, I tried to tread water. Waves crashed into me, making it hard to keep my head above the surface. Why hadn’t my PFD automatically inflated? I pulled on the cord to manually inflate it. Nothing happened. I tried to swim back to the boat, but the current was pulling me in the opposite direction. I watched helplessly as someone in the cockpit turned on the engine. The windlass creaked and groaned as it lifted the anchor. I waved my hands frantically over my head so they could see where I was, coughing as I swallowed sea water. Then the boat turned toward Coconut Cove, leaving me drifting out to sea.

  CHAPTER 16

  KILLER COCONUTS

  “MOLLIE, MOLLIE, ARE you okay?” A dinghy pulled up beside me. I struggled to reply, barely able to keep my head above water. “Here, give me your hand.” I reached up and saw Ben looking at me with concern. He pulled me into the dinghy, setting me next to a case of beer, a fishing pole, and a tattered orange life jacket.

  “What were you doing in the water?” he asked as he tossed an anchor over the side. He examined my PFD. “What happened here? This isn’t inflated. Did you fall off a boat?”

  I sat up carefully, wincing as I bumped my shoulder on the fishing pole. “I didn’t fall. Someone...” I tried to catch my breath. “Someone tried to kill me.”

  “Kill you?” Ben asked. He moved the fishing pole out from underneath me.

  “Yes, kill me. See this lump on the side of my head? That’s from a boat hook.”

  “That does look pretty nasty,” he said. “You sure it wasn’t from a coconut?”

  “A coconut?” I asked incredulously. “How would I get hit by a coconut here in the middle of the water?”

  Ben shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I see them floating in the bay.”

  “But they’d have to fall down from something in order to hit me. Do you see any palm trees floating out here?” I gestured out across the water.