by Diana Orgain
The woman was talking to the plants!
Okay, she was the right person for the job.
I watched Abigail as she stooped to scoop the mail out of the small box on the backside of the door.
The mail!
I jumped up from the couch and snatched the mail out of her hand. “I’ll take that!”
Abigail looked at me, startled. “Oh, yeah sure. I was only going to put it on her kitchen counter, next to the cordless phone, that’s where she likes it.”
I nodded and flipped through the letters. It looked like ordinary mail: the power bill, the supermarket circular, and a flyer from Flab-U-Less, a new yoga studio opening up near Rachel’s bar.
Nothing from Dan.
That much was good.
“When did Rachel start dating Chuck?” I asked.
Abigail pressed her lips together, looking considerably worried. “Well, that’s the thing. They just haven’t been dating all that long.”
“What happened between Rachel and Dan?” I asked.
I felt like I was walking on eggshells. I couldn’t let Abigail know that Dan was dead. And yet, I remembered that when he and Rachel broke up, it was quite bad. Did Abigail have more information than I did?
Abigail shuffled over to the next houseplant. “Oh Dan. He was perfect for Rachel. I don’t know why she didn’t see that. I kept telling her to give him another chance.”
“She was the one who didn’t want to be with him?” I asked. Somehow I remembered the story differently, but now I doubted how much Rachel actually shared with me.
Abigail shook her head. “He was ready to settle down. I think he would have made a great catch for Rachel. He knew the business backward and forward—”
“But he didn’t like her business, right? The dogs?”
Abigail frowned. “Really?”
Ack. Had I just stepped in it? Clearly she didn’t know about the letter. That much was good.
“Uh, well, there’s a no-dog sign in front of DelVecchio’s,” I said.
Abigail nodded. “But that’s not because Dan doesn’t like dogs. He’s always been kind to Missy.” She looked around, realizing Missy wasn’t in the room with us. She called out, “Missy? Missy?”
“Why then?” I asked.
Abigail looked confused for a moment. “Oh, the no-dogs sign? That’s Gus DelVecchio. He’s the chef there. He has a thing about dogs near his food. He’s a bit of a crazy, if you ask me.”
I hid my smile. That was the first thing that had sounded sane to me all day. What was crazy about a chef not wanting animals near the food he’d labored over? Plus, restaurants were so expensive to run. He was probably fighting tooth and nail to stay in business, and likely the last thing a fine-dining Italian restaurant needed on its shared patio was a doggie happy hour … well, doggie anything, really.
“Anyway, I wish I could have convinced Rachel to give Dan another chance. He really loved her.”
“I didn’t know they were that serious,” I said, feeling removed. Why hadn’t I known what was going on in Rachel’s life?
I’d been too wrapped up in my own life, my New York life: long hours at the office trying to make it as a financial advisor. I was glad now that I’d come home. Rachel needed me. She was my little sister, and I’d do whatever was necessary to protect her. But first, I had to figure out what happened to Dan.
“When did Rachel leave?” I asked, thinking back to the text she’d sent me early in the day.
Certainly the coroner would peg a time of death, and hopefully that would rule her out immediately.
“The cruise left this afternoon,” Abigail said.
Darn. Oh well, there’d be something else to clear her from suspicion entirely. I was sure of it.
And what about this Chuck guy? This new man in her life. Was it possible that he and Dan had fought over Rachel? Could she have fled with him, thinking she was protecting him somehow?
Why else would she leave on such short notice?
“When did you know she was leaving town?” I asked.
“I only found out this afternoon. She sent me a text. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted me to promise to pick up the mail and water the plants.”
“You tried to talk her out of a vacation?” I asked.
She frowned. “Vacation? No, not that. I tried to talk her out of eloping.”
Chapter Six
She’s eloped?
I staggered back and sat on the couch. Missy materialized from Rachel’s bedroom and seemed to sense my distress, because she beelined toward me and pressed her wet nose into my ankle.
Abigail watched me. “You didn’t know?”
“What do you mean eloped? She married this Chuck guy? Who is he? How long have they been dating?”
“About two weeks,” Abigail said. “I’m sorry to have sprung it on you, I thought you knew.”
Which begged the question, why didn’t I know? Rachel didn’t feel she could confide in me, obviously. Disappointment weighed down my shoulders. After our parents passed, Rachel and I were left with only Grunkly, so it’s not as if I imagined she wanted a huge family wedding, but I had always envisioned standing by her side on that big day.
Abigail picked up the dog. “Come on, girl, leave Maggie alone.” She looked around the apartment. “Do you think we should do anything else around here before we go?”
I glanced around, noticing the dust and general disarray of the place. “I’ll tidy up a bit,” I said. “You don’t have to stay.”
“We should look around for The Wine and Bark towels for the rehearsal tomorrow,” Abigail said.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll look for them,” I said.
Perfect.
That way I could nose around Rachel’s place and try to figure out why she’d married this guy. Who was he? Did she love him? Not to mention, I could poke around and see if there was anything tying her to the unfortunate death in her establishment.
I shuddered to think what I would do with anything should I find it.
“Do you know how I can reach her?” I asked.
“No, she’s supposed to call me when they get to port. There’s no cell phone coverage onboard.”
But the ship certainly had phones or radios.
Maybe there was a way to reach her after all. I’d have to go ask around at Soleado Cruise Line for a number. Surely that would endear me to whoever was interviewing applicants for the purser position. I could see it now: “Please, I have to get an urgent message to my sister—who’s eloped and said nothing to me—that a man was found dead in her bar. Oh, and, by the way, have you had a chance to review my résumé yet?”
I pressed my fingertips to my temple, trying to fend off the headache that threatened.
“It was very nice to meet you, Maggie,” Abigail said, reminding me she was standing in the doorway.
I stood. “Right, right. Sorry. I was distracted. Thank you for taking care of the plants for Rach.”
Abigail nodded absently. “What happened at the bar tonight? Why were the police there?”
I bit my lip. I was under strict orders not to talk about Dan, but really, what would it harm? Maybe Abigail knew something. As I was about to speak, someone knocked on the door. Abigail gave a start and Missy began to bark.
I crossed the room and opened the door. Officer Brooks filled the hallway. “Good evening, Maggie. Is Rachel here?”
Abigail peeked out at him and Missy gave him an appraising sniff. “Hi Brad,” Abigail said.
He nodded at her.
“Rachel’s out of town,” I said. “I thought I told you that already.”
I suddenly felt protective about her again. Why was this cop, handsome or not, snooping around her place?
“She’s off and eloped,” Abigail chirped.
The fact that Abigail was so willing to spread gossip about my sister irked me. Although, if it was technically true, did that make it gossip or news?
Either way
, I didn’t like it. The elopement was Rachel’s business, not this Officer What’s-His-Name’s or Abigail’s.
Brooks raised an eyebrow. “Eloped, eh? When?”
“First thing this morning, they took off on the Mexican Riviera Cruise,” Abigail said.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” Brooks asked.
“Chuck Hazelton,” Abigail said, proceeding to chat at length and fill Officer Brooks in on Rachel’s private dealings.
I fought the overwhelming desire to throw them out into the hallway. Did I really have to stand here and listen to my little sister’s love life be dissected?
“They’d only been dating a few weeks, can you believe it?” Abigail said.
Was it my imagination or was Abigail suddenly standing taller? Almost as if she was thrusting her well-endowed top half right under Brooks’s nose.
“A little wild and crazy, wouldn’t you say?” Abigail continued. “I don’t suppose you do that sort of thing? Hey?” She poked at Officer Brooks’s shoulder.
His eyes were on mine. He didn’t seem to hear Abigail when she said, “Anyway, if you ever want to do coffee, let me know.”
At that Missy barked—she probably didn’t want Officer Brooks in her life. Could dogs sense flirting?
“Hush now, baby,” Abigail said, then she regarded Brooks and me for a moment and realized that neither of us were speaking.
“May I come in?” he asked. “I’d like to ask you a few more questions.”
“Oh? Is that about what happened at the bar?” Abigail asked. “What did happen? A robbery? Are we unsafe here in Pacific Cove?” She clutched at his bicep.
He looked at her and said politely, “If you don’t mind, Abigail, I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of an ongoing investigation.”
Abigail’s eyes widened, but to her credit she didn’t shriek like I figured Yolanda might when she repeated, “Ongoing investigation?”
Officer Brooks broke free of her hold and stepped in through the apartment door, smiling tightly at Abigail as he firmly closed the door behind him.
He pressed his back against the door and stayed next to it like a stanchion. “I came to inquire about Rachel. Do you have a way to reach her?”
“No, not yet,” I admitted.
He nodded. “Also, you left without giving Officer Ellington your statement.” Something flashed through his eyes that I read as anger. I only hoped it was directed toward Ellington and not me. “I can take that now,” he said.
I hesitated. I still didn’t have a great statement to make.
What did I know?
Not much.
Brooks seemed to read my hesitation.
“It doesn’t hurt. I promise.” He pulled out a notebook from his front chest pocket and flipped to a blank page.
“Do you want to sit down?” I asked, motioning to the couch.
He shook his head. “Not necessary. I’d just like you to take me through your paces starting with last night.”
“Last night? Do you have the time of death already?” I asked.
He poised his pen over the blank page. “Could you kindly tell me your whereabouts last night?”
Now I felt like a loser. For some strange reason I wished I’d had a hot date to report to him, I wanted to see if jealousy would flash across his masculine face, but my love life was deader than Dan.
“I was home last night,” I said.
“Did you have any company? Talk to anyone? Can anyone vouch for you?” he asked.
“Am I a suspect?” I replied.
“Well, I’m not putting you in handcuffs yet.”
A shocked expression must have crossed my face, because he gave a little self-satisfied smile, then said, “These are standard questions, miss. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m only getting the facts.”
He was calling me miss now. We’d backtracked.
“Would you like something to drink?” I asked. “Coffee?”
He shook his head.
The thought crossed my mind to offer him a doughnut, but I figured it was too cliché.
“Mind if I have one?” I asked. Then immediately regretted it. Why was I asking for permission?
He didn’t answer my question, though, just repeated his. “Did you talk to anyone last night? From your house?”
I hadn’t talked to anyone. I’d stayed up late, cooked a frozen pizza, and watched a cheesy Hallmark movie where the man and woman fell in love and were torn apart when her past came to haunt her. Only I was too embarrassed to tell Officer Brooks that I was a sucker for romance plots. So I lied and said, “My uncle, we chatted last night.”
I made a mental note to tell Grunkly to cover for me. I crossed to the kitchen. I was sure Rachel had something in her kitchen that might take the edge off. Why was I so nervous talking to this man? There were several boxes stacked in a corner of Rachel’s kitchen.
I grabbed a kitchen knife and sliced into the first cardboard box. Officer Brooks watched me without saying a word.
Ah! The Wine and Bark towels.
“One mystery solved,” I sang out, then immediately regretted it upon seeing the serious expression on Brooks’s face.
Moving the box aside, I sliced into the next, a case of Stoli. It must have been for the bar. I picked out a colored tumbler from Rachel’s cabinet and filled it with ice. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” I said.
“I’m still on duty.”
“After I give you my statement, will you be off duty?” I asked.
He shook his head stoically.
I poured a healthy dose of vodka into my tumbler. “Okay, what else do you want to know?”
“Did you know Dan?”
“No, I knew of him. I know he and Rach dated for a bit.”
He nodded. “How did it end? Was she angry with him?”
“No!” I said, suddenly defensive for my little sister again. “They just dated and then they ended it. Rachel was busy with the bar. She didn’t want to get too serious with anyone.”
“But now she’s married. Very suddenly, I might add.”
Yes, that did seem like a big fat inconsistency.
I shrugged. “I didn’t know about it until Abigail told me just now. I have to verify it.”
“Are you saying it might not be true?”
I sipped my vodka. “Well, I’m not calling Abigail a liar or anything. It’s just strange that my own sister didn’t mention it to me.”
“Maybe she thought you wouldn’t approve of the guy,” Brooks said.
“Do I look like the type of person who judges other people’s relationships?” I asked.
He shrugged. “From the little I know about your sister, your opinion is very important to her.”
I twirled the tumbler in my hand and thought about it a moment. Yes, it did seem strange that Rachel would elope without even a word to me about it.
It smelled of trouble.
Like she was hiding something.
I only hoped the something she was hiding didn’t have anything to do with poor Dan.
“How about today? Can you take me through your steps please?” he asked.
“This morning I went to the beach, then shopped at The Meat and Greet, before getting a text from Rach about helping out at the bar.” I finished my vodka and poured another. “You should talk to Yolanda, though. She’s the one who found Dan, you know. She was at the bar before I was.”
He nodded. “All right, one more thing. Why did you steal the fund-raiser flyer out of my pocket?”
I reddened, embarrassed about being caught, but relieved that it hadn’t been a copy of the letter from Dan.
“I didn’t want you to go as Yolanda’s date,” I said.
He chuckled. “I thought maybe you wanted a first crack at the pets that would be up for adoption,” he said.
I laughed. “No.”
We stared at each other for a moment, suddenly silent. A nervous energy fluttered in my belly as I held his gaze.
“Ca
n I get a rain check?” he asked.
“Rain check?”
“On the drink?”
I nodded dumbly. He made his way to the door. “I have to talk to the people at DelVecchio’s tonight. And I work tomorrow as well, but I’m off on Sunday.”
Was he asking me out on a date?
My heart began to race.
“Sunday works,” I said, before realizing that I’d probably have to tend Rachel’s bar on Sunday. With any luck, maybe the bar would have to be closed until Rachel returned from her trip.
Officer Brooks had his hand on the doorknob, and as if reading my thoughts turned and said, “My crime scene team is still working at The Wine and Bark. I’ll let you know when you can reopen.”
“No rush,” I said.
He chuckled, then wiggled his fingers at me as he waved good-bye.
Chapter Seven
First thing I did when Officer Hottie-Pants left was down my vodka, then I tried Rachel’s cell phone again. It went to voice mail immediately, which told me she had either turned it off or it was out of battery. I left her a message to call me ASAP, then sent her an e-mail in case she had access somehow to that account.
I poured myself another drink and then searched the kitchen, each cabinet and cupboard, even the sugar bowl for evidence of what she’d been up to.
When I came up dry, I decided to scour the rest of her apartment, including the desk she kept in her bedroom that held a laptop computer. The laptop was password-protected, but I tried my hand at hacking my way into it. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought. Her password for everything was Wineandbark. I’d have to talk to her about Internet security. She was ripe for identity theft.
I found cached searches on her computer for “disorderly house,” which was the violation Dan had referenced in his letter. So, it seemed that Rachel had been aware that Dan was threatening to file a complaint.
But I didn’t, however, find another copy of the letter, so as far as I could tell, she’d either heard about the threat from him or someone else at DelVecchio’s.
Additional poking around yielded me some online chats between Rachel and a Mr. Chuck. It seemed that Mr. Chuck was a computer engineer. Really? That was a first. Rachel never went for the nerds.
