Murder on a Silver Sea (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 3)

by Loulou Harrington

  “LaDonna?” Sophia questioned.

  SueAnn shoved an order toward Jesse. “When are you leaving?”

  “LaDonna?” Sophia repeated. “Is she going to take your place?”

  “Well, at this rate, we do need somebody else trained to fill in,” Lindsey said. “Since our master detective here seems to be in such demand.”

  Jesse gave Lindsey a warning look, then answered the questions in order. “I don’t know when I’m leaving, but probably soon. And LaDonna has graciously volunteered to help out. And I don’t like this any more than anyone else does, but I don’t seem to have a choice.”

  Running halfway across the country on a wild goose chase to hold someone’s hand while they had a meltdown wasn’t Jesse’s idea of fun, or excitement or anything she even remotely wanted to do. But every time she tried to convince herself this was all Bethany’s imagination, she remembered the worry on Bobby Don’s very unimaginative countenance.

  How many accidents could one woman have in such a short time? And how hard would it have been to trip or shove an eighty-year-old who was groggy with sleeping pills?

  But what really bothered Jesse was how difficult would it be to prove any of it?

  If Amanda’s death wasn’t an accident, what were they going to be walking into on an isolated island in the middle of an inland ocean passage? And if it was a murder, what in the world was she getting Vivian involved in?

  Chapter Ten

  “Why do people keep looking at me like that?” Vivian demanded. “I’m traveling as light as I can.”

  Jesse’s sturdy denim handbag was slung over her shoulder. Her fuchsia backpack leaned against her blue-jean-clad leg, and she was grateful for the warm flannel shirt she had layered over her short-sleeved pullover. In addition to the neon pink Keds on her feet, her backpack held a pair of canvas flats in navy.

  In contrast, Vivian was resplendent in a slim-cut dress and three-quarter sleeved jacket that just brushed the top of her hipbones. Tailored in an exquisite coral raw silk, the outfit caught the late afternoon light and practically glowed. Her shoes were high heeled leather pumps in a peach-and-gray geometric pattern.

  Her three suitcases were admittedly much smaller than she normally traveled with. The largest was on rollers and the next one in size stacked on top for easy portability. The third was the size of a beach bag and only slightly larger than the leather purse she carried—in peach and gray to match her shoes, of course.

  Beside them, the small seaplane they had just exited bobbed happily on the water. After unloading Vivian’s bags, the pilot had disappeared up the long pier that led through a busy marina and a myriad of intersecting docks before reaching the offices and the solid land of Friday Harbor itself.

  “Well, they did look a lot smaller when I was leaving Tulsa,” Vivian admitted. “But they are on rollers. Look…” She unzipped a pocket at the bottom of the carry-on she had been holding, flipped out a tiny set of wheels, then pulled a telescoping handle from the top and set it down beside her. “Even this rolls.”

  Still getting her bearings, Jesse turned to study the extensive marina that spread out around them. Boats of all sizes were tied up to a mind-boggling maze of piers that reached out toward the entrance to the harbor.

  A road ran along the edge of the water, appearing from the left and disappearing to the right. The town began at the road and rose upward, spreading out and around as it went, but always climbing higher.

  A loud, deep horn sounded, and they both turned to see a ferry boat entering the bay. For a moment, they watched in stunned silence.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of those before,” Jesse said, “and certainly never this close.” Slowing, it seemed to glide across the water, keeping to the center of a narrow channel that followed the same path their seaplane had taken.

  “That ferry was our other option?” Vivian asked.

  “Yep.” Jesse looked beyond the ferry landing to where little of the harbor remained. One large building jutted out above the water. In front of it, mammoth pilings formed an open bay that looked too small to contain the approaching boat.

  “Good heavens, what’s he doing? He can’t possibly fit in there. I can’t watch!”

  Vivian threw up both hands to act as blinders and turned her back to the ferry that did, indeed, seem determined to wedge itself into the open slot. With a great roaring and churning and frothing of water, its pace slowed even more.

  “What’s that noise? What is it doing?” Vivian twisted slightly and adjusted her hand to peep through her fingers.

  “I think that’s reverse. What do they call that? Reverse thrusters, I think. And I’m guessing he’s done this before.”

  While it still looked dicey, Jesse was beginning to think the ferry might actually pull it off. There were a great many people watching from the railings of the boat, and they all seemed to be uniformly festive and not expecting imminent death at all.

  “Well, I thought the seaplane was an act of lunacy. I guess I stand corrected.” Vivian gave up on hiding her eyes and turned to watch the docking maneuvers.

  With its engines roaring in spurts, the ferry inched its way into the U-shaped bay. Jesse waited for the sound of rending metal and splintering timber, but it never came. Instead, the enormous boat came to a stop snuggled into the open arms of the ferry dock. Within minutes, cars began rolling off the lower deck of the boat, each clanging its way down a ramp and onto land.

  The milling group along the upper railing melted away, replaced by a steady stream of people making their way off the ferry and onto the pier. From there they continued through an iron gate, filed past a small office building and onto a sidewalk leading to the roadway. Here they got into waiting cars, road off on bicycles they brought with them, or made their way on foot up into the streets of the town.

  “Hmmm. Perhaps that would have been more fun than I was thinking,” Vivian said.

  “Most of them seem to be locals. Although I did see a few backpacks.”

  “I am not…carrying…a backpack,” Vivian said with measured emphasis.

  Grinning, Jesse teased, “Even if we find you a backpack with rollers and a handle?”

  Vivian’s expression of disgust changed to one of interest. “Do they make those?”

  Jesse thought for a second. “I think so. Or, at least, close. They’re really efficient, you know.”

  “So are your flannel shirt and those shoes,” Vivian answered. “But it’s not going to happen. I did bring some of the things Constance and I picked out. I just haven’t evolved to a level where I can wear something like that on an airplane. Or in a tourist town like Friday Harbor. However, I will use this trip as an opportunity to adapt. And I will concede that these shoes are perhaps not appropriate for a seaplane.”

  “I wasn’t sure you had noticed the pilot’s look of horror. And I don’t think the runabout we’re taking to the island tomorrow is going to be much better.”

  “Perhaps we’ll have time for a little shopping in the morning before we leave,” Vivian suggested.

  “Does that mean you didn’t bring anything that doesn’t have a heel?”

  “Did you bring rain gear?” Vivian asked sweetly as she pointed skyward.

  Jesse looked up to see dark clouds rolling in. “Oh, darn! No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, I did. But I do think I need some sort of boot that isn’t too hideous if I’m going to be riding around in boats and tromping through mud.”

  “Mud?” Jesse thought of her pink tennis shoes that she was really very fond of and her navy slip-ons that could scale rocks or accessorize dresses equally well. “Boots sound good. And rain gear. Good thinking, Viv.”

  “So, how do we get to our hotel?”

  Jesse stared up the long, broad length of pier that separated them from the main road skirting the harbor. From the map she had printed before they left home, their promised charming lodging nestled in the heart of Friday Harbor and only minutes from dining, shopping and
the harbor itself should be at the end of the pier, then two streets to the right and up the hill a couple of blocks. There had been no mention of a shuttle or taxi.

  “I believe we are afoot, Viv.” Leaning over to slip her arm through the loop of her backpack, Jesse straightened, sliding it onto her shoulder while reaching behind her to capture the other strap with her free arm. When she was adjusted and ready to go, she looked up to find Vivian staring at her.

  “Surely you jest.”

  With a sweep of her arm, Jesse indicated the pier that was their only connection to land. “Well, there’s no taxi coming out here. Once we get over there…” She pointed to the shoreline where she could make out what looked like a bench next to what she had decided was a sidewalk. “Maybe we can sit down and come up with a better idea for the rest of the way. Why don’t you roll the small bag, and I’ll pull the other two?”

  “You’re already lugging a backpack.”

  “Seriously, that’s not a problem.” Jesse captured the handle of the bag that had a smaller one stacked on top. “You just concentrate on not getting a heel caught between the boards of this pier.”

  They made their way along the wide, bustling pier past sailboats, fishing skiffs, power boats, and luxury cruisers. An orange tabby lifted its head from a cradle of coiled line to watch them pass by. A matched duo of white miniature poodles bounced the length of an elegant sailing yacht, yipping, wagging their tails, then racing ahead to wait for Jesse and Vivian to catch up.

  Halfway down the long, wooden walkway, Vivian announced, “This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Once we reach the end of the pier, according to this map, we turn left, cross the road and head up into town. The going then will be a little more strenuous.”

  “You do remember, don’t you, that I still do my own gardening? And I bought my first pair of high heels with my first paycheck out of high school.”

  “Your first paycheck?” Jesse slowed her pace and looked behind her to make eye contact with Vivian.

  “My first paycheck,” Vivian repeated. A slow smile slid over her face, turning her expression far away and dreamy. “I had just seen Malcolm for the first time, and I wanted to make sure he noticed me the next time I ran into him.”

  “And did he?”

  “Oh, yes.” Her voice had the smoky quality that Jesse remembered Vivian only used when her husband Malcolm was near. “Yes, he certainly did.”

  “Watch where you’re walking,” Jesse reminded her. “If I let anything happen to you, I’m afraid Malcolm might come back to haunt me.”

  Vivian laughed. “I think he’d be too happy to see me to stay mad long.”

  “That’s a good point.” Jesse led the way onto the sidewalk at the end of the pier and turned to look back at where they had just come from.

  “Oh, look, the ferry’s leaving already.” Vivian pointed toward the narrow entrance to the harbor where the ferry was making its last turn back out into the sea beyond. “That was certainly quieter than his arrival. Although I think I did hear his horn and just didn’t pay any attention.”

  “If I wasn’t so hungry, it would be very tempting to find a bench and sit awhile.”

  “This place could grow on you, couldn’t it?” Vivian asked, looking around. “Just don’t go getting any ideas, young lady. You’ve already wandered away from home enough for one lifetime.”

  “No way,” Jesse promised. “Although I’m getting excited to see Amanda’s island tomorrow. I haven’t been around open water very much. There’s something very peaceful about it. And the air here is so crisp, don’t you think?”

  “Just don’t forget you’re coming back home with me whether you fall in love with this place or not. Is that understood?”

  “Absolutely.” Jesse’s smile brightened as she looked around. “Hey, I think we may be closer that I originally thought.” She pointed to the street sign almost across the road from them. “That’s the street we’re looking for.”

  “Well, hallelujah. I will admit that these heels weren’t made for mountain climbing.”

  “Just a couple of blocks left,” Jesse assured her. “Then we’ll get settled, have a good meal and grab some shuteye. I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to be quite a day.”

  Vivian laughed. “No kidding. Possibly the adventure of a lifetime. We not only have a murder to solve, we still have to prove that it was murder.”

  “Do you really think it was?” Jesse asked, suddenly sobered.

  All of her instincts said yes, while her common sense argued hard against it. But Jesse had learned that as much as Vivian loved drama, her ability to read people and situations was almost infallible.

  “Yes, kiddo, I do.” Vivian stopped walking and gave Jesse a look of understanding. “I think Amanda was running from something when she came up here. I have no idea what it was. I’m not even sure she knew. But I think it followed her. And I’m afraid it caught her.”

  Jesse shivered, then felt a familiar spurt of irritation. “Well, then, I sure hope somebody here looks guilty. Because, so far nobody else has. And there’s got to be something extra evil about anyone who can look so innocent and be so guilty.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Are you sure I should be wearing a sweater for this trip?” Vivian asked for the third time. “It’s such a beautiful morning, and I’m feeling overdressed.”

  Half a block down the hill and across the street, Jesse could see a building that she had identified yesterday as the marina’s office. “According to everyone I’ve talked to,” she explained once more, “the water we’ll be crossing is cold. And once we’re out on open water, the ride will be cold, wet and windy.”

  “Speaking of open water, just look at that harbor. I think I’d like to come back here someday, Jesselyn. Just for fun. What do you think? And do these boots look too macho? What did they call them again? Oh, and can you remember who’s picking us up this morning? If I ever knew his name, I’ve forgotten it now.”

  When Vivian paused to catch her breath, Jesse lined the questions up in her mind and answered them in order. “I’d love to come back here with you, Viv. Those are called motorcycle boots, and yours are a very stylish version. And I think they’re very becoming, especially with your jeans tucked in like that.”

  Vivian stopped walking long enough to hold out one booted foot and turn it from side to side to examine the effect. “I’m not sure they’ll be coming back home with me, but I think they’ll do nicely while we’re here. And who is it that we’re meeting at the marina office?” she repeated.

  “Gordon Pitts.”

  “Why is that name familiar?” Vivian cocked her head in thought and gazed into the distance. Within seconds her eyes widened and her breath caught. “The convict!”

  “He has a criminal record, Viv. But we don’t know that he was ever in jail.”

  “Well, Amanda certainly must have become much more liberal in her later years than she ever was when I knew her.” Vivian grew quiet, and then said softly. “Poor Amanda. I hate that she died so far from home. I can’t help but feel that we failed her somehow.”

  “We don’t know that it was murder.” Jesse felt the same sting of disappointment that Vivian did, but she was determined to keep an open mind. “Amanda was using sleeping pills. We know she was up in the night or she wouldn’t have been on the stairs. She could have been groggy and stumbled.”

  “That would be quite a tidy coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “Tidy coincidences have been known to happen.” Jesse stopped at the base of the sidewalk they had been following. “But I agree with you that it’s not very likely.”

  The slow stream of cars clogging the roadway in front of them cleared. Dragging her dainty piece of luggage behind her, Vivian led the way across the two-lane road while there was still a gap in the traffic.

  “Do we know anything else about Mr. Pitts?” she asked once Jesse joined her on the sidewalk across the str
eet.

  “Some sort of fourth or fifth cousin to Amanda. Criminal record. I apparently wasn’t paying enough attention when SueAnn was talking. It seems like maybe she said manslaughter? But honestly I just don’t recall the specifics.”

  “Well, nevertheless, this should be an interesting trip over to… wherever. I’m not even sure where I am right now, much less where I’m going.”

  “Friday Harbor is on San Juan Island,” Jesse said. “The other two major islands in the San Juans are, uh, gee, I can’t remember their names. And then there are smaller islands scattered around, some barely inhabited. I got the impression that Amanda’s estate was on a private island, but I don’t know for certain.”

  Vivian rolled her eyes and laughed. “Lord love a duck, Jesselyn, some investigators we are. We aren’t positive where we are, have no idea where we’re going and know next to nothing about the criminal who’ll be driving us there.”

  “Well, to be truthful…” Jesse grinned and dipped her head toward Vivian. “We’ve pretty much just stumbled into everything we’ve ever discovered.”

  The smile on Vivian’s face drooped. “The sad truth is that we’re up here to find a killer, and we don’t even know if there is one.”

  “We can’t let Bethany know how woefully inadequate we’re feeling,” Jesse warned. “She really needs some hope to cling to.”

  Vivian drew in a breath and let it back out. “Later I will deny that I said this,” she began, “but… well, I truly feel that I owe it to Amanda to figure this out. Surely she left some clues as to what drove her here two days ago.”

  “And that it had something to do with what happened to her,” Jesse added. “The two aren’t necessarily connected.”

  “There’s a man staring at us,” Vivian said in an undertone. She glanced to the side and then back down. “He’s leaning against that building. He’s got a hat pulled down over his eyes, and I can’t get a good look at him.”

  “If you can’t really see him, how do you know he’s watching us?”