The Folly Beach Mystery Collection Volume II

by Bill Noel

  I said, “Want some coffee?”

  She smiled. “That sounds good.”

  I pulled in a parallel parking space at the side of Bert’s Market and asked if she wanted to go in with me. She said sure, grabbed the coat from the back seat, and followed me to the coffee urn. Two men were putting sugar in cups. I didn’t recognize them at first, and then it hit me. They were Barb’s temporary neighbors. One of them noticed me standing behind them and said, “Oh, sorry. Let us get out of your way.”

  He stepped aside and pulled the other man with him.

  “Hi,” I said, “I’m Chris, and this is my friend, Joy. Aren’t you Barb Deanelli’s new neighbors?”

  “Yes,” the taller of the two said. “How’d you know?”

  I explained that I’d seen them coming out of Barb’s Books and she told me who they were.

  “Oh. I’m Troy and this is Nate.”

  Troy shook my hand and nodded to Joy. Nate stood back and didn’t seem interested in talking to us.

  “You’re from Canada,” I said, to end the awkward silence.

  “Yes,” Troy said.

  “Troy, we’d better get going,” Nate said and took a step toward the door.

  Troy shook his head. “Nate’s always in a hurry. Nice meeting you Chris. You too, Joy. Pretty name.”

  She mumbled, “Thank you.”

  Barb’s neighbors were gone, we got our coffee, and I asked Joy if she wanted anything to eat. She said no, and we continued our search. Over the next hour we saw dogs of assorted sizes, breeds, and colors. Not one was named Pluto.

  “Joy, Sunday when we were eating at Loggerhead’s, you said the bar looked familiar. Did anything else about it come back to you?”

  “I thought about it all night. Nothing. You asked if I’d been there before. I still don’t know. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay.”

  I drove out East Ashley Avenue to Thirteenth Street. I didn’t think Pluto would have wandered that far but had an idea. I turned on Tabby Drive and past the house with Caulder painted in script on a piece of driftwood on the wall beside the front door. The driveway was empty, so I figured no one was home. I asked Joy to follow me to the back yard. She gave me a strange look but followed me to the walking pier that led to the eighteen-foot-long runabout that had been returned to its owners.

  “Chris, did you see Pluto?”

  I walked to the end of the pier and put my hand on the Tahoe’s stern. “No. I was wondering if this boat means anything to you?”

  She looked at it and at me. “No, why should … oh, is this the one that was stolen, the one you think I was on?”

  I nodded.

  She pulled her coat tighter and returned her gaze to the watercraft. She leaned over and looked in the boat and stepped back and looked at its side.

  “I know it would be good if I recognized it, but I don’t.”

  It was worth a try. “Ready to get back on Pluto patrol?”

  She nodded, and we headed to the car. Before she stepped off the pier, she looked back at the boat, stopped, slowly shook her head, and whispered, “Sorry.”

  Forty-five minutes later, we’d covered most every street on the island, some more than once, and decided that if Pluto was wandering around, one of the many searchers would have found him. I was beginning to think that the poor dog had suffered a fate that none of us had imagined, a fate that would devastate Dude. I didn’t share that thought with Joy or Burl who was waiting for us. Bernard had already returned and was in the living room sipping on a mug of coffee. Burl offered cups to Joy and me which we quickly accepted. He said that Rebekah was in her room resting after working all morning at Black Magic and traipsing around looking for Pluto. Dude had phoned Burl and said he wasn’t stopping until sunset and thanked us for our efforts. Burl went to the kitchen to get more coffee.

  “Chris,” Joy said during a break in the conversation about Pluto, “who again were those men you talked to in Bart’s?”

  “Bert’s,” I corrected, sounding like Charles. “They’re Barb’s neighbors. She told us about them when we were in the bookstore the other day?”

  “I remember. It’s just, I wondered if you knew anything else about them.”

  “No, why?”

  “Nothing specific. It’s like how the bar in Loggerhead’s looking familiar. They’re vaguely familiar. I’ve probably seen them around town, that’s all.”

  Burl returned to the living room and said, “Chris, will you be joining us for our Christmas Eve service?”

  “I plan to, why?”

  “Curious. What about Christmas Day?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.”

  Then I remembered what Cal had said about Joy coming to his party. “Preacher, will you be at Cal’s Christmas party? I remember you had an enjoyable time there last year.”

  Burl smiled, “Brother Chris, I had a wonderful time until Brother Cal dragged me on stage and made me sing a duet with him. I could’ve crawled under a table.”

  “Preacher, you were good. Joy, our friend Cal has a big party each Christmas. I know he’d love for you to come.”

  “I don’t know. Everyone will be a stranger, and—”

  Bernard interrupted, “Bologna, Joy. You’ll be among friends, lots of them. You’ll see. Last year was the first time I went. That’s when I talked to Preacher Burl and he helped me, helped me a bunch.”

  She smiled. “Maybe I’ll give it a try.”

  That would do for now.

  14

  The weather gurus predicted Tuesday would be the best day of the week, so I took advantage of the warm, dry morning and walked two blocks to Rita’s Seaside Grille at the corner of Center Street and East Arctic Avenue. The restaurant was on its third name since I’d moved to Folly and was conveniently located across the street from the Folly Pier, catty-corner from the nine-story, oceanfront Tides Hotel, and across Center Street from the iconic Sand Dollar Social Club. The lunch-hour was a few minutes away, and I had the choice of a table or a booth. My preference would have been a table on the patio, but even though today was to be the pick of the week, it was too cool to sit outside. I chose a booth along the sidewalk side of the colorful restaurant and quickly drew the attention of Samantha, a server who’d waited on me several times over the years. She asked if I wanted a menu and I told her I knew what I wanted.

  She grinned and said, “Cheeseburger, medium rare?”

  I smiled and nodded.

  “One of these days you’re going to order something different and I’ll have to call the Folly Current, so they can do a story on the alien who invaded Chris Landrum’s body.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen.

  While I waited for my predictable cheeseburger to arrive, I wondered if Dude had found Pluto. I started to dial his number when Charles bounded through the entry and headed my way.

  “Thought that was your bald head shining in the window.” He slid into the seat opposite me. “You already ordered your cheeseburger?”

  “Good morning, Charles.”

  “There you go. Trying to introduce civility. When are you going to give up and start talking like your friends?”

  I was beginning to wonder that myself when Samantha reappeared with my lunch and asked Charles if he wanted anything.

  “Sam, I’m glad you asked. All morning I’ve had a hankering for world peace, a cure for the common cold, and a grouper sandwich.”

  “We can’t fry up the first two, Charles, but the grouper sandwich is a no-brainer for the chef.”

  “I’ll settle for that.”

  “So,” Charles said as Samantha went in search of a grouper sandwich, “what’s the latest on Pluto?”

  “I was going to call Dude when you invited yourself to lunch.”

  Charles nodded toward my phone on the corner of the table. “What’s stopping you?”

  You, I wanted to say. Instead, I tapped the speaker icon, so Charles could listen, and then tapped on Dude’s number and waited throug
h six rings before his voicemail message said, “Be lookin’ for pup Pluto. Unless you know where he be, don’t waste time leavin’ words.”

  I didn’t know where Pluto was, so I didn’t leave a message.

  Charles stared at the phone. “Dude says more words on his voicemail message than he uses in person.”

  I shared how I, and several others, had spent hours yesterday looking for the lost canine. Charles said he knew because he ran into Dude snooping around Charles’s apartment building looking for you know what. Charles then spent an hour walking the streets in his part of the island, to no avail.

  Samantha told Charles his food would be out shortly, before she leaned over the table and said, “Any word on Dude’s dog?”

  “No,” Charles said. “How did you hear about Pluto?”

  She shook her head. “Do I look deaf and blind?”

  “No,” Charles said, in an astute observation.

  “Everybody knows about Pluto. Dude was in here twice last night asking if anyone had seen an Australian Terrier hanging around. Those weren’t his exact words. A couple from New Jersey looked at him funny, but most of us knew what he was talking about and said we hadn’t seen the poor creature.” She then said she’d better get Charles’s lunch and headed to the kitchen.

  Charles shared a couple of stories he’d heard about a restaurant closing on Folly Road and about a book he’d been reading about Herbert Hoover. I covered my mouth, so he wouldn’t see my yawn of boredom. I said, “Interesting.”

  He detected my level of disinterest in his choice of books, and said, “Chris, I’m beginning to think something bad happened to Pluto. If he’d hopped, skipped, and jumped away on his own, don’t you think he would’ve found his way home or some of us would have seen him?”

  I nodded, and Samantha set Charles’s lunch in front of him and moved to the next booth to see if a father and his two young kids were ready to order.

  Charles took a bite and mumbled, “Think he’s dead?”

  “I’m not ready to go there. Someone could’ve taken him in and planned to keep him. He’s cute and friendly.”

  “Yes, but he’s Dude’s.”

  “We know that. He didn’t have a collar, so he could’ve been mistaken for a stray.”

  Charles took another bite, nodded left and then right, and said, “Think we should start knocking on doors and asking if anyone has a new pet?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We need to do something, if we—”

  I interrupted Charles and stood to greet Joy who was headed our way.

  “I thought it was you, Chris,” she said and smiled.

  “You saw his bald head in the window, didn’t you?” Charles said and scooted over and offered her a seat.

  “No, I recognized him.” She looked at the spot Charles had vacated for her, hesitated, and said, “Do you mind if I join you?”

  I was pleased that she asked even after Charles moved over. I said, “We’d be honored.”

  Samantha returned and asking the newcomer if she wanted something to eat or drink.

  Joy looked at Charles’s plate, then at mine, and said, “I don’t have any… I don’t think—”

  Charles interrupted and said, “Go ahead and get something. It’s on Chris.”

  Thanks, Charles.

  She looked at me and I smiled. “Maybe I’ll have what Chris has.”

  Samantha said it was an excellent choice and once again headed to the kitchen.

  Charles said, “Out for a walk?”

  “Sort of. Still looking for Pluto. Dude came by early this morning and asked if we could help him look. The poor man was near tears. That dog means a lot to him.”

  “It’s his family,” Charles said.

  I chose not to mention that Pluto wasn’t Dude’s entire family since Barb was his half sister.

  Joy looked out the window and at the bartender pulling a beer out of the cooler behind the bar along the other side of the room. “Wonder if I have pets.”

  I said, “Do pets sound familiar? Is anything coming back?”

  She continued to look at the bar and instead of answering my question, said, “Pets, no.” She rubbed her eyes and continued to look at the bar. “Chris, why does that look familiar?”

  I looked at the bar. “The bar, the bartender, or what?”

  “The bar.”

  This was the second bar that she’d said looked familiar. “Does it look more familiar than the one in Loggerhead’s?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “There’s something about it.” She exhaled and said. “Don’t you think I want to know what it is?”

  Charles patted her arm. “It’s okay, Joy. We’ll figure it out. Won’t we, Chris?”

  Thanks again, Charles. “We’ll do what we can.”

  She attempted a smile and failed.

  Samantha returned with a real smile and Joy’s cheeseburger. She asked if we needed anything else. I was tempted to say a memory for Joy. I resisted and thanked her.

  Joy took a large bite, and I wondered if it was the first thing she’d had to eat today. Charles asked how she liked staying at Hope House.

  “It’s okay. Everyone is nice.”

  “How’s your room?” Charles asked, mainly to get her mind off worrying about the past.

  “Great. Preacher Burl says I have the best room in the house.”

  “That’s great,” Charles said. “The preacher is a great person.”

  Joy started to put a fry in her mouth, hesitated, and returned it to the plate. “Chris, I don’t have a right to, but could I ask a big favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Would you take me back to that boat you said I was on?”

  “Of course, we will,” Charles answered for me.

  We, I thought. “Joy, do you remember something about the boat?”

  “I might. I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about it. I was half dreaming, half awake, so I’m not sure what was what. If I see it when I’m awake, something might click.”

  “If you want, we can go after we finish here.”

  “Good idea,” Charles said, answering for Joy.

  It could have been my imagination, but Joy finished lunch quicker than she’d started. Charles was waving for Samantha to bring me the check before any of us had finished our sandwiches.

  15

  We walked to my house with Charles stopping every few steps to holler Pluto and look for the elusive canine behind every structure. It took nearly as long to walk the short distance as it did to eat lunch.

  “I like where you live,” Joy said, as we approached my car in the drive. “It’s cute. Lived here long?”

  “Almost as long as I’ve been on Folly.”

  “Could use more Christmas decorations,” Charles said as he pointed to the lonely wreath on the door.

  We piled in the car before Charles, the man who had no Christmas decorations on his apartment, could tell me how to exterior decorate my cottage. The two-mile ride out East Ashley Avenue took longer than man’s first flight to the moon. Charles had me pull over at each beach access walkway, so he could get out and yell for Pluto. We also had to stop at each house that had more Christmas decorations than my wreath, so Charles could show me how I could decorate my humble abode. I could tell that Joy was getting inpatient, but since we were doing her a favor, she held her annoyance. I wasn’t as accommodating and ignored Charles last five requests to stop. Our next stop was in front of the Caulder residence.

  Fortunately, the house didn’t have as much Christmas decorations as did mine, nor were there any vehicles in the drive. Charles was quick to exit and was nearly to the boat before Joy and I got out. The only witnesses to our trespassing were a dozen pelicans perched on a pier two houses away. Joy was staring at the boat through the window and didn’t appear like she wanted to get closer.

  “Are you okay, Joy?”

  She jerked back from the window.

  “Sorry to startle you, you ok
ay?”

  She whispered, “I don’t know.”

  “Want to go home?”

  She said something I couldn’t understand. I leaned closer and asked her to repeat it.

  “I think so.”

  “I’ll get Charles.”

  I walked halfway to the pier and called for Charles who was leaning over the boat looking like he was about to climb aboard. I waved for him to return to the car until I noticed Joy opening the door and walking my way.

  She was tiptoeing like she was on broken glass, and said, “You brought me out here and I need to look in the boat. Honest, I do.”

  Charles shrugged, pointed to the boat, and then at the car.

  I put my arm around Joy and led her toward Charles. The temperature was mild, the sun was out in all its glory, and she had on her oversized coat, yet was shivering.

  Charles moved away from the craft and let Joy look over the gunwale. She continued to shiver, and I kept my arm around her waist. She stared for just shy of an eternity, before saying, “I was back there.”

  Charles moved up beside us and looked in the back of the boat. “In the back seat?”

  Joy nodded.

  I tightened my grip on her, and said, “What do you remember?”

  She closed her eyes, and said, “The boat moving fast. Bouncing in the waves. I’m on my stomach on that seat. My head hit the seat every wave. It hurt.” She opened her eyes and pointed at the white with blue trim, fold-down back seat. She looked at her left wrist and massaged it with her right hand. “Tied with a rope. Got it loose. Untied my feet. He didn’t look back.” She continued to look at her wrist.

  I waited for her to continue. Charles, who hadn’t perfected the art of patience, said, “You were tied up and on the back seat. Then what?”

  She looked at him like it was the first time she noticed him standing beside us. “Then nothing.” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Charles said, “Are you sure that—”

  Joy interrupted, “Can we leave?”

  I said yes and moved beside her as she walked off the pier. We got in the car and slowly turned around at the end of the dead-end street and headed to town. Joy remained silent until we were in front of Hope House.