Blackberry Frosted & Murder_An Oceanside Cozy Mystery Book 28

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Blackberry Frosted & Murder_An Oceanside Cozy Mystery Book 28 Page 2

by Susan Gillard


  Heather and Amy exchanged a look. If there was a dead body involved, then it did sound like more than a boating accident.

  “Do you suspect it was a murder?” asked Heather.

  “It looks like,” Peters agreed. “But with their expert and our medical examiner, there’s been a lot going on.”

  Heather stared over Peters’s shoulder towards the boats. One was a small fishing boat that had a large dent in its side. The other was large enough to have two levels, so the sailors could stay below deck if they wanted.

  Heather could see six unhappy young adults headed after the detective. One was wearing a college sweatshirt, and she inferred that this was a spring break trip that went wrong.

  Peters noticed the others too. Before he went to meet them and escort them to their hotel, he told Heather that Ryan should be by the larger boat. He wished them luck and focused on the suspects.

  Heather and Amy watched them walk by and then went in search of Ryan. The smell of the salt air and the sea breeze might have felt refreshing if they weren’t also approaching a crime scene.

  Heather also couldn’t help feeling a slight bit of trepidation. She had assisted and solved many cases, but most of them were on dry land. While she had gone sailing a few times with her friends since she moved to Key West, she wouldn’t consider herself an expert. Would she be out of her league in this case if it related to being out at sea?

  She shook these thoughts away. She had a knack for noticing details, and together she and Amy were great at getting information out of people. They could be helpful on this case as much as they had been on any other. She felt a boost of confidence as she remembered how many killers she had helped put behind bars.

  Also, if Ryan had asked for them to come, then it meant that they were needed.

  She heard his voice and hurried towards it.

  “So, we’re decided then,” Ryan said.

  “Yes,” another man replied. “While it did take place at sea, and a general area of longitude and latitude can be determined for its location, the crime doesn’t seem to be especially nautical in nature. I believe a joint investigation could be beneficial to both parties, which include the Coastguard and The Key West Police Force.”

  “Who’s the windbag?” Amy asked as the approached the two men’s conversation.

  “It has been decided that I, Special Agent Colton Connors, will be the point man for our side of the investigation,” he said, as if in answer to Amy’s question. “And I will work in conjunction with you, Detective Shepherd.”

  Heather and Amy reached the boat and were looking for the best way to board it.

  “Great,” Ryan said, sounding a bit antsy. “Let’s start working.”

  “Working together will be a beneficial experience for both of us,” Special Agent Colton Connors continued.

  Heather gave Amy a hand, and she stepped up onto the boat’s deck. Then, she gave a hand to her friend.

  “Duties can be divided up, and we can soon get to the bottom of this. But I now have two questions,” he said, turning towards Heather and Amy and pointing. “Who are these women intruding on our crime scene? And should you throw them out, or I?”

  Joint Investigation

  “Whoa,” Amy said in response to the Special Agent’s threat to remove them from the crime scene. “We’re not walking the plank here, buddy.”

  “I never suggested a plank,” he responded seriously. “You seem to be confusing the Coastguard with pirates, but we, in fact, protect citizens from dangers. However, this vessel is being deemed a crime scene, and so I will need to ask you to depart.”

  “Wait a minute,” Ryan said, coming to join the duo. “They’re with me.”

  “Are they plainclothes police at the department?” Colton Connors asked.

  “No,” Ryan said. “They’re private investigators.”

  “We’ve assisted with several cases,” Heather explained.

  “And there’s nothing plain about this outfit,” said Amy.

  Special Agent Colton Connors crossed his arms and frowned. “This still seems very irregular.”

  “They’ve proven themselves before, and my Chief of Police appreciates the extra help on difficult cases,” Ryan said.

  “Do you like working with them?” he asked.

  “Very much. They have great insight on cases,” Ryan said. “And I like them personally too. In fact, Heather is my wife.”

  “My wife is a piano teacher. She doesn’t assist me in my work, but I could appreciate how spending extra time with a spouse could be appreciated,” he said. “If you think they are necessary, they may take part in the investigation. However, I must mention again that I find this irregular. I am the only agent from the Coast Guard Investigative Service assigned to this case, and I have not brought in any outside help. It is partially that I know the Coastguard has many other duties to attend to and that even the Investigative Service of our organization is busy. They are trying to stop some drug smuggling in the area. The other reason that I have brought in no other outside help is that I am confident in my ability to see this case through on my own.”

  “You must really like the sound of your own voice,” Amy commented.

  “I find my voice to be pleasant but not more melodious than any other man’s. I have not thought about it especially. I find my greatest skills that I am most proud of are my attention to detail and my thorough nature.”

  Heather turned to Ryan. “Why don’t you tell us what you can about the case so far?”

  “And why the Coastguard had to get involved,” Amy muttered.

  Special Agent Colton Connors heard her. “I can answer that.”

  Heather refrained from sighing. She had a feeling that his answer would take three times as long as Ryan’s. This man seemed to like to over-explain things.

  “These two vessels were engaged in a crash at sea. I can tell you that this is unusual because, at this size, they should have been able to maneuver and avoid one another. The fishing boat radioed for help, and the Coastguard arrived to make sure all were safe. It was clear that there was no chance of sinking. The college students on their vessel still appeared jumpy, and they suspected alcohol use. However, the cause for their nerves, instead, seemed to be that a murder had occurred the night before. The Coastguard then brought me, a member of their Investigative Services team, in to look around. We also contacted the local police. Upon learning of their fine reputation for solving cases, we determined a joint investigation would be beneficial. I have since begun work with this officer here, Detective--”

  “Shepherd,” Amy finished. “Yes. We know. She’s married to him, remember?”

  “Yes. Of course. I have an excellent memory. I was just trying to be thorough.”

  Heather nodded as a form of thanks and then turned back to Ryan. She tried to place her back towards the Special Agent without being rude. “What can you tell us about the murder?”

  “The victim was named Kasey Schwartz,” Ryan said quickly. “She was a college student here with a group of friends.”

  “College students often travel to our tropical waters during their spring break,” Colton Connors said. “As well as neighboring areas in the Florida state too. It can be quite a time for partying though.”

  “We’re discovering that,” said Heather.

  “Was the death a result of partying too much?” Amy asked.

  “It appears that Kasey Schwartz was hit on the head with a blunt instrument,” said Ryan. “Both of our experts agreed on this, though the Key West medical examiner is going to complete the autopsy. It occurred sometime last night. Right now the best estimate is between two and four a.m.”

  Heather glanced around the boat. There was an open area on the deck with a seating area. She could see eight life vests and coolers of drinks spread around. There was an enclosed area where the helm and controls were for driving the boat. Some papers that looked like brochures were on the floor by the controls. Heather also saw the steps leading
down to an area where some sleeping quarters must have been located. She scanned for signs of blood but didn’t see any. Perhaps the killer had cleaned up after himself.

  “There were several other people on board at the time, weren’t there?” Heather asked. “What do they have to say?”

  “To answer the first part of your question,” Colton Connors said. “Yes. There were six other schoolmates on board at the time: Miranda Duncan, Calvin Green, Chucky Hall, Tom Redmond, Sidney Shaw and Maria Wexler.”

  “And what they have to say at the moment is very little,” said Ryan.

  “I’m glad that’s true for somebody,” Amy muttered.

  “They’re all saying that Kasey Schwartz was at the wheel when they went to bed. She was sober and was going to find a safe spot for them to anchor during the night. They claim that they found her dead the next morning,” Ryan said.

  “And they’re all providing alibis for one another?” asked Heather.

  “Yes,” said Ryan. “Though all are admitting to sleeping and having alcohol in their systems.”

  “Who found the body first?” asked Heather.

  “Maria Wexler,” Colton Connors answered quickly. “She came up on the deck, and her scream brought the others here.”

  “Right now, the college students are claiming that they must have been boarded and that person killed Kasey Schwartz.”

  “But I find that very unlikely that they could have been boarded without anyone realizing. Unless two ships planned to meet, there would invariably be some bumping and scraping that would have roused the others. If you’d like to hear a brief history of this type of vessel—“

  “I’m afraid we should really get on to other matters in the investigation,” Ryan said. “I know the victim’s parents were notified, but I need to find out some more information from them. And, I could use your knowledge and experience about ships to see if there is any other forensic evidence we could have missed on board, Special Agent Connors.”

  “Please, in the spirit of a joint investigation, call me Connors. And I will call you Shepherd.”

  Ryan agreed and thanked him. Then he led Heather and Amy off of the ship.

  “That guy just talks and talks,” Amy said. “Does he do any investigating?”

  “He is a bit more longwinded than any of the other members of the Coastguard that I met,” Ryan said. “But maybe his thoroughness will be helpful.”

  “And now what can we do to be helpful?” asked Heather.

  “Connors and I should probably talk to the college students first,” Ryan said, rubbing his chin.

  “Hey!” a man called from the fishing boat. “When can we get out of here?”

  “I think we found who we should talk to first,” Heather said.

  Fishing for Clues

  Heather and Amy approached the fishing boat. There were three men with hats and vests decorated with colorful baits and lures. They all had a grumpy expression on their faces. However, the wrinkled man who had yelled at Ryan seemed to perk up when he saw the ladies approach.

  “Well, you two are a good deal prettier than those cops we’ve had to talk to,” he said. “Do you deal with boating licenses?”

  “We’re private investigators who are going to help with this matter. I’m Heather Shepherd, and this is Amy Givens.”

  “If you're helping with this matter, can you help us get out of here?” the redheaded man asked.

  Their third friend nodded. “Those crazy kids crashed into us, and now we’ve been stuck here all morning.”

  “Did you hear why they were keeping you here for so long?” Heather asked.

  “We thought maybe it had to do with how much that Coastguard detective liked to talk,” said the wrinkled man.

  Amy laughed. “That might be part of it.”

  “But I’m afraid that’s not the whole reason,” Heather said, seriously. “One of the college students has been found dead, and they want to get to the bottom of it.”

  “You see, that makes me mad,” said the redhead.

  “What does?”

  “These kids come down here, looking for a boat party, but then they don’t know how to manage one. It’s just like driving a car, but they don’t think of it that way.”

  “Not all these young ones are good at driving these days anyway,” said the third man. “They get distracted by their phones. It’s bad business.”

  “You need to manage your craft when you’re on the water,” the redhead continued. “And look out for any obstacles you might encounter.”

  “And they clearly didn’t do that,” the wrinkled man said. “I’m sure you saw the dent that they put in my beautiful baby.”

  Heather nodded, remembering the large dent she saw in the white and green vessel. “I’m sorry this happened to your boat.”

  “I’ve had her for almost twenty years. We never had anything like this happen before,” he said unhappily.

  “I wonder how this crash did happen,” Heather thought aloud. After all, the crash did happen well after the murder.

  “Because of their crazy partying,” said the redhead. He stood up and pointed at the other boat. “And they haven’t taken nearly as much damage as we did.”

  Heather walked across the small deck to get a better view of what he was pointing at, and ended up agreeing with his assessment. While the fishing boat had a large dent and looked battered from the encounter, the larger vessel only had some scrapes. It looked as of paint from the other boat had gotten onto it. The originally tan ship now had bits of green, white and even a little purple on its side.

  However, the passengers on that ship had certainly had more damage. One of them was now dead, and Heather needed to determine how this happened.

  “What were you doing out on the water?” she asked.

  “Fishing,” the three men said in unison and then chuckled.

  Heather and Amy smiled.

  “We should have guessed that,” Amy said. “There are plenty of clues. Are we investigators or what?”

  “But what made you decide to go at this time?” Heather asked. “It seems early.”

  “We like to start at dawn when we can,” said the wrinkled man. “It’s nice to see the sunrise over the water, and we can see how the fish are biting.”

  “And most of the tourists aren’t up and ready to go sailing at this time,” the redhead added. “It usually gives us a bit more privacy.”

  “Of course, it didn’t work today,” said the third man. “Today it came right to us.”

  “We didn’t even get that far into the sea,” the wrinkled man said. “We were headed towards our favorite spot for fishing when we got hit.”

  “Tell us a little more about this crash,” Heather said, eager to hear the details about the strange happenings.

  “It was like I said,” the wrinkled man said, throwing himself into a chair on the deck out of annoyance. “We were headed out to see, traveling to our spot. It was just after sunrise. It was looking to be a beautiful morning. The only other boat we could see on the horizon was that one over there.”

  “And we didn’t think nothing of it at first,” said the redhead.

  “But then it kept coming closer and closer,” said the third man.

  “I tried to avoid it,” said the wrinkled man. “But it continued to come right at us.”

  “I think it wanted to hit us,” the third man continued.

  “Stupid kids,” said the redhead.

  “Wait a minute,” Heather said, trying to make sure she heard this correctly. “You tried to move away from the other boat, and it still hit you? It followed you?”

  “That’s right,” said the wrinkled man. “And at this point, we were yelling at them too. But they hit us, and then kept calling for help.”

  “Exactly,” said the redhead. “But we were the ones who had been hit!”

  “Did they say anything else when they were calling for help?” asked Heather.

  “No. They weren’t making sense,”
said the wrinkled man. “But we called for the Coastguard on the radio, and they came to make sure we were all right. But then the brought us back here, and we haven’t been able to leave.”

  “I’m sure they’ll let you go soon,” Heather said. “But I do have one more question. Are you sure that you didn’t see any other boats or anything else unusual on the water that morning?”

  The three men shook their heads and agreed there was nothing else to add. Heather pondered this. If there really were no other boats nearby, then the killer had to be on board the ship.

  Boat Rentals

  Since they weren’t supposed to talk to the suspect/witnesses from the boat until after Colton Connors and the police did, and Amy joked that they might take all week, the private investigators decided to find out what they could about the boat that served as a crime scene.

  Because the students were from out of town, it seemed likely that they had rented the boat while they were here. After a little research, Heather and Amy found the rental place and headed to its main office.

  A woman with copper ringlets shook her head as they entered. “You’re the P.I.s, right? Not a new renter?”

  “That’s right,” said Amy. “Maybe you should become a P.I. too?”

  “No,” the woman sighed. “We just haven’t had any new rentals all day. We’ve even gotten cancellations. Can you believe that? This is supposed to be our busy season. The last few years we’ve been completely full with our bookings.”

  “What happened now?” asked Amy.

  “That girl dying,” the woman sighed. “No one knows the full story yet. I don’t know it myself. But somebody mentioned her dying on our boat on social media. I can’t dispute that it wasn’t the boat’s fault until the police tell me what happened. I’m sure it can’t have been the boat, but now everyone thinks I’m renting out floating death traps.”

  “We can’t have this affecting your business if it had nothing to do with you,” Heather said, empathizing with her because of her own small business. “There are a lot of investigators on this case, and I’m sure the basic facts will be established soon. We’ll ask the police to make a statement and clear up that it had nothing to do with subpar service on the boat.”

 

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