“As a woman who’s been stared at quite a bit in my lifetime,” Vivian assured her, “I just know.”
Having learned repeatedly not to question Vivian’s instincts, Jesse straightened and prepared to turn. “Well, we’re headed that direction anyway. Let’s go see if that might be Gordon Pitts.”
“Are you just going to march up to him and ask?”
“I think I probably will.”
“Well, I’ll be right behind you,” Vivian promised, “but you have to remember that I have nothing I can hit him over the head with should the need arise.”
“That’s okay, Viv,” Jesse consoled. “It’s enough to know that you would if you could.”
While Vivian huffed her disapproval, Jesse headed toward the man who did indeed seem to be watching them from under the brim of his sailors’ cap.
“I don’t suppose you would happen to be Gordon Pitts, would you?” she asked when she was close enough to speak without raising her voice.
Still draped against the side of the building, he nodded. “And that would make you Jesse Camden, I’m thinking?”
She held out her hand, and he took it in a grip that was just the correct degree of firmness. “How do you do?” they each said simultaneously.
Jesse felt herself relax. The eyes that looked back at her were guarded but friendly, giving the impression of a man who walked a careful line and knew exactly where to draw his boundaries.
“I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances,” he said. “We’re all a little stunned right now. Amanda Carmichael was a fine woman, and we were all very fond of her.”
He turned toward Vivian, who stood slightly behind and to the side of Jesse. “And you must be Vivian Windsor.” In a smooth movement, he unpeeled himself from the wall and extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My father was a friend of your husband’s.”
Vivian took his hand and leaned closer, studying his face. “Do you look like him?” she demanded.
“A bit. So they say.”
“Amos Pitts?”
Gordon Pitts’ brows rose in the only sign of surprise he gave. “Yes, ma’am. He and my mother divorced when I was young, so I didn’t know him well myself. We visited some on odd weekends and holidays.”
“Was he good to you? In the time you had?”
The younger Pitts lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “He tried, I think. In the limited time he was allowed. I’m sure it was difficult for him.”
“He was a good attorney,” Vivian said. “But he never seemed like a very peaceful man. I know he traveled a lot.”
Gordon nodded his agreement. “The burden of success, he used to call it.”
“I don’t know what your schedule is like, but I would enjoy spending some time with you over the next few days,” Vivian suggested. “To talk a bit more. I believe I met your mother once or twice when your parents were first married.”
“She never talked much about her married days. Or about my father. But I’d be pleased to spend some time with you.” He stepped back and turned halfway toward the marina behind him. “Well, the boat’s ready if you are. Do either of you need anything before we cast off?”
“I think we’re ready,” Jesse answered with a quick glance toward Vivian, who nodded her agreement.
“Let me take those bags for you.” Without waiting for an answer, he gripped the handles of both bags. His gaze moved Jesse’s backpack. “I can carry that, too.”
Her hand moved protectively to her shoulder strap. Used to taking care of herself, Jesse didn’t easily hand her burdens over to someone else. “That’s okay. I’ll take it off when we get to the boat.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shrugged rather than argue. Then he turned and led the way back down the same wide pier that led toward the float plane dock. “We have to make one more stop after here,” Gordon called over his shoulder. “I need to pick up Amanda’s attorney at the Lopez airstrip.”
“Is that on this island?” Vivian asked.
“No, ma’am. That’s Lopez Island. Lopez, San Juan and Orcas are the main islands in the San Juans. There’s a ferry that stops on Lopez plus an airstrip for private planes.”
As he talked, he turned left and went down a ramp to a busy network of narrower piers. “We’re right here.” He gestured to the side, toward a short dock at the base of the ramp.
Two dinghies were tied to heavy cleats on one side of the pier. On the other, a bright red classic car from the 1950s, complete with hood ornament and fins, was tied fore and aft to the side of the dock.
“Oh, my goodness,” Vivian exclaimed. “I haven’t seen one of those in about half a lifetime.”
“What in the world…” Jesse walked slowly from one end of the boat the other, staring. It had to be a boat. It was floating. And it had a huge Mercury motor attached to the back. But the hood, the front fenders, the windshield, the roof, even the seats inside looked more like a ’56 Chevy than any boat she’d ever seen.
“Somebody on Grand Lake used to have one of those,” Vivian said. “When Malcolm and I first started dating. I always wanted to ride in it. But we never met the owner.”
“Well, I guess you’re going to get your wish.” Gordon leaned over the side and deposited the luggage onto the nearest of the two bench seats running lengthwise along the boat’s stern. Inside the roofed cockpit, two single seats faced forward. Two more seats were back-to-back with these, facing aft.
Gordon hopped over these into the boat, turned and reached toward Jesse. “Want to give me that backpack now? I’ll stow the luggage below and then give you two a hand aboard.”
Jesse slipped off her backpack and extended it toward him. He took it, lifted the other bags and disappeared into a dark rectangle just in front of the forward-facing seats.
Vivian turned to her, grabbed Jesse’s forearm in both hands and squeezed. “This is going to be such fun!” she whispered. “I’m sorry for the reason that brought us here, but so far I’m loving this trip!”
Jesse studied the interior one more time. The seats were red-and-white strips of stitched vinyl. They were stylish but didn’t look like they provided much support. If she and Vivian avoided the bench seats, they would at least be under a roof. But she could see there was water on the floor in the part that was open.
“Well, it is cute,” she conceded. “And it looks like it could be fun.” If it were sunny and hot. Right now, it just looked cold—cold and wet.
But Jesse didn’t say that aloud. If Vivian was prepared to enjoy herself, Jesse had no intention of spoiling it. She had a feeling reality would take care of that soon enough anyway.
Gordon emerged from the area below with the baggage apparently stowed. “The seat next to me is empty if one of you would like to sit there.”
He held out his hand, and Jesse stepped back, allowing Vivian to go first.
“Or you can both sit facing backward if you’d prefer,” he continued. “I wouldn’t recommend the seats on the side today. We’ve got a bit of wind, and swells are kicking up.”
As he talked, Vivian stepped down with no problem and took the backward facing seat behind the driver. “I think I’ll save that front one for Amanda’s attorney,” she said. “He probably won’t be dressed for this.”
When Gordon reached out to take Jesse’s hand, he was grinning. His grip was strong and steady as he guided her into the boat. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, “I think you may be right about that.”
Up close, Jesse realized he wasn’t as old as she had thought. Maybe 40, if that old. With his hair covered by the cap he wore, she couldn’t see anything but brown curls at the nape of his neck. Not much gray in those. His eyes weren’t brown and weren’t blue, but some pale color she couldn’t identify without staring far too long. And there were lines at the corners—from laughing, or squinting, or both.
“Better settle in,” he said. “We’ll be shoving off in a minute.” He fiddled with something next to the steering wheel, and the heavy motor at the back
roared to life. Leaving it idling smoothly, if somewhat loudly, he hopped onto the pier, untied the back line and tossed it aboard. Then he untied the front line and carried the end onboard with him.
He quickly put the boat into reverse and edged clear of the dock. Then, shifting into a low gear, he steered around the outer edges of the harbor, weaving a path between incoming vessels and the bigger, faster boats heading out past them.
Once they reached open water, Gordon shifted again and the small boat surged forward like the sleek, sporty runabout it was. The stern tucked down, the bow lifted, a wedge of sea foam spread out behind them, and wind whipped around them like a sudden gale.
Vivian sucked in her breath in a gasp. “Told you this was going to be fun.”
Holding on for dear life, Jesse wasn’t sure that’s what she would call it.
“You ladies okay back there?”
“I love this!” Vivian shouted over the noise of the motor, the wind and the water rushing by. “The lakes back home aren’t like this!”
“This is the sea, ma’am. It’s open to the Pacific Ocean on both ends. The Salish Sea, to be exact. There are whales all through here. Ocean liners cruise these waters on their way to Alaska. And it’s some of the best sailing in the world.”
“You sound like you could be a native,” Vivian replied. “Do you really like it here that much?”
“Sometimes, if you’re very lucky, you find the place your heart’s been looking for. Who knew I’d find mine here?”
Chapter Twelve
For Jesse, the ride to Lopez Island wasn’t quite as exhilarating as Vivian seemed to find it. The seas were choppy, stirred by a stiff breeze from the north. Gordon thoughtfully handed out lap blankets, which helped buffer the chill in the air and added to the college-football-game-in-November atmosphere. Water splashed over the side and pooled on the floor before draining back out the scuppers as quickly as it came in. But it was damp enough to wet the soles of their shoes, and a fine sea spray had misted the blanket from their knees down.
When they pulled into a bustling bay and tied up at the guest dock, Jesse and Vivian both eagerly seized the chance to go ashore.
“There’s a little coffee shop on the corner,” Gordon said, pointing to the town that began outside the network of piers and landings in the small harbor. “I’ll locate Mr. Hardy and come find you.”
“Hardy?” Vivian asked. “That’s the attorney’s name? I don’t believe I’m familiar with him.”
“He might not be from the Myrtle Grove area,” Jesse said. “Maybe he’s from… where is Amanda from? Mayestown?”
“Maybe he’s a young person. I don’t actually know a lot of young attorneys.”
“I believe he’s from Oklahoma City,” Gordon said, with a hint of reluctance. “He’s been Amanda’s attorney since her divorce.”
“Ah, clever of her.” Vivian nodded in agreement. “Going outside Brandon’s sphere of influence. Although I’m not sure Oklahoma City was far enough. She probably should have gone out of state.”
“I believe her father had a connection to the firm.” Gordon’s tight-lipped speech and averted gaze still signaled repentance for every word he spoke. “Well, then, I guess I’ll retrieve you ladies from the coffee shop when I return with Mr. Hardy. Perhaps he’ll want a snack before we shove off.”
“That might be wise,” Jesse suggested. “Having a snack, that is. I would imagine things are in a bit of turmoil at the house right now.”
“A bit, yes. It would probably be a good idea to eat while you can.” He nodded stiffly, turned and walked away, his gait no longer quite so smooth and loose-limbed.
“Well, that was odd,” Vivian announced once he was out of earshot.
“His demeanor?” Jesse studied the picturesque village, looking for the corner coffee shop Gordon had suggested.
“Yes. His whole attitude changed once we arrived here. Oh, how charming! This looks like the place, don’t you think?”
Jesse breathed in the tantalizing aroma of coffee wafting from the cafe separated from the sidewalk by a white picket fence. Inside the fence, a chalkboard menu advertised soups and sandwiches, and a handful of outdoor tables overlooked the waterfront.
“Close enough.” Before the one empty table could be taken, she zipped through the gate and grabbed the table with a clear view of the water. Vivian took the chair closest to Jesse, leaving two empty seats for Gordon and Mr. Hardy should they want to eat.
“So, I wonder what caused it,” Vivian said. “Do you suppose it’s something about Mr. Hardy that has him so tied in knots? Or maybe it’s this place. Or he could just be worried about what will happen after we reach our destination. What do you think?”
Jesse dragged her gaze from the chalkboard menu and her decision as to whether she wanted salmon and cream cheese on a bagel with hot tea, or if perhaps she felt more like cream cheese and loganberry on a bagel with coffee. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she sat down.
Vivian turned her attention to the waitress who had just arrived. “Hello, dear. I’ll take a cup of tea, Earl Grey if you have it, and that Dungeness crab salad on a croissant.”
“Hi there, my name is Sally, and I’ll be your server. And yes, ma’am, we’ve got Earl Grey.” The waitress, whose blond hair was slicked back in a ponytail, jotted down Vivian’s order and turned to Jesse, pen poised over her pad. Young and athletic looking, she had skin that was smooth, tan and unadorned.
“And you, ma’am?” Sally prompted when Jesse didn’t order immediately.
With a sigh, Jesse made a choice. “I’ll take a cup of chai, if you’ve got it, and the salmon on a toasted bagel.”
“Is that Chai latte, extra spicy Chai, or just Chai?”
“Just Chai.”
“And cream cheese with that bagel?”
“Yes, thank you.” When Sally had gone, Jesse said, “Well, Gordon was clearly reluctant to talk about Hardy. Maybe he was just eager to get away from us and any more questions we might have.”
“He does appear to be a man of few words. He might have felt disloyal to Amanda to be revealing anything about her.” Vivian shrugged. “Or he could be a man who feels that anything personal is the same as gossip.”
“Lord, I hope not,” Jesse said. “That would make it awfully hard to get any information out of him.”
“He’s an interesting fellow. Why in the world didn’t we find out more from SueAnn about his conviction? I would have bet it was drugs. He looks like someone who might have augmented his college income by selling drugs on the side. You know, those… what do they call them… recreational drugs with the imaginative names?”
Jesse laughed and held her response while Sally returned with cups, tea bags, two pots of hot water and cream and sugar. She arranged them on the table and left again.
“I can email SueAnn for more details. She’ll be off work soon, and maybe she can get back to us this evening. Maybe she’s learned more about Nettie Shoemacher.” Jesse poured hot water in her cup, dunked her teabag and added sugar. “In the meantime, I’m not going to try to guess the sins in Gordon Pitts’ past.”
“There is something slightly bad boy about him, though, don’t you think?” Vivian asked while performing a similar ritual with her own tea. “Fifty years ago he would have been wearing dungarees and had a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve of his tee-shirt.”
They both grew silent while their sandwiches were delivered. They assured Sally that they didn’t need anything else at the moment, and she left a handwritten dessert menu before departing.
Vivian toyed with the food in front of her for a moment before looking up. “I find him intriguing,” she announced.
“Obviously.” Jesse spread the cream cheese on one side of her bagel and set down her knife. “But I know what you mean. He’s younger than I expected. More clean cut looking.”
“Handsomer,” Vivian agreed, “and comes from a good family. He obviously knows his way around a boat. Since he
and the housekeeper are the only permanent staff here, that would make him the groundskeeper and handyman as well, wouldn’t it?”
Jesse nodded, having already arranged the salmon and taken a bite.
“So the next question is, could he be a murderer?” With that, Vivian took a bite of her sandwich.
Before Jesse could finish chewing and respond, the man in question arrived, rolling a carry-on-sized suitcase behind him, followed by a second man who carried a slim, leather briefcase with a shoulder strap.
“May I present Mr. Lawrence Hardy, ladies? And this is Mrs. Vivian Windsor and Ms. Jesse Camden, both of Myrtle Grove and both personal friends of Mrs. Carmichael and Bethany O’Connor.”
Vivian smiled graciously and presented her hand. “Mr. Hardy, it’s such a shame to be meeting you under these circumstances, but a pleasure to meet you nonetheless.”
“Mrs. Windsor, call me Lawrence, please.” He bowed low over her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you over the years, and the pleasure is mine, I assure you. Wonderful to be meeting you in person finally.”
Jesse took another drink of tea and then kept the cup in front of her, cradled in both hands. She was reluctant to intrude on the fawn fest the attorney was having with Vivian. It was understandable that he had just lost a significant client, and the Windsor name would be especially enticing at a moment like this. But just in case he was tempted to include Jesse, she wanted no part in it.
When he turned to her, she smiled and held her tea cup in front of her like a shield. “Mr. Hardy, it’s a pleasure, sir.”
“Yes, yes, definitely.” He blinked several times and slowly lowered his hand to his side. “The pleasure is mine.”
“Well, now, you ladies take your time with your lunch. Mr. Hardy has already eaten, so I’m taking him on to the boat to get him settled in, and I’ll come back for you in a bit.”
After they were gone, Jesse looked at Vivian. “Was that as awkward for you as it was for me?”
Vivian laughed. “Not in the least. He’s twenty years younger than I am and rather an imposing figure. Slightly stout, but still handsome, and the poor dear has just lost his best client. You can’t blame him for wanting another one to take her place.”
Murder on a Silver Sea (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 3) Page 9
