by B R Snow
“Don’t worry about it,” Josie said. “Just get your rest.”
“Have the police been in to talk with you yet?” I said.
“No, but I think they’re planning to do that tomorrow. I think everyone has been waiting until I could string a sentence together.”
“Did you get a look at who did this to you?” I said.
“No,” he said blinking, then giving up the fight and closing his eyes. “After we heard the woman’s scream, I raced to the boat and went down below deck to see if anything was going on down there. Then out of nowhere, bam, right on the back of the head and I was out.”
“What did you see before you got hit?” I said.
“Nothing,” he said, managing to get his eyes open. “Not a thing.”
“Except for the dead body on the bed,” Josie said.
“What dead body?” he said, drifting off to sleep.
I stared at Josie.
“That’s odd,” she said.
“There’s no way he could have missed seeing the body,” I said.
“No, you’re right,” she said.
“This changes things,” I said, my mind racing.
Josie shook her head.
“What’s the matter?” I said.
“Just the usual stuff,” she said.
“What usual stuff?”
“You. And your compulsive behavior when it comes to solving a mystery.”
“Well, you have to admit that something in the timeline has changed, right? Maybe that bit of news changes everything.”
“Maybe,” she said.
“How is it possible for there not to be a body on the bed when Jackson got attacked, and then for it to be there two minutes later when everyone else showed up?”
“I have no idea, Suzy.”
“It’s like some kind of magic trick,” I said. “You know what we need to do, right?”
“Yes,” Josie said, shaking her head. “You want to go over everything from the beginning. You want to figure out a way for us to talk with everyone who could have been involved without seeming suspicious. And you want me to call Freddie.”
“And?” I said.
“There’s more?” she said.
“Yes. And you know what it is.”
“No,” Josie said, shaking her head.
“Yes, Josie.”
Josie shook her head like a two-year-old refusing to eat dinner.
“No way, Suzy,” she said.
“Yes. We need to take another shot at having a look around that boat.” I said.
“You’re unbelievable,” Josie whispered.
“Relax,” I said. “This time we’ll have a more organized plan of attack.”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” Josie said.
“But this time make sure you put all the snacks you bring along in plastic bags. You know, just in case we end up back in the water,” I said, again using my best deadpan expression.
This time, she didn’t laugh.
Chapter 10
Freddie X was our county’s medical examiner, and we considered him a good friend. He lived in Clay Bay, but since he served the entire county, he spent a lot of time on the local roads determining how various residents had met their demise. Usually, these deaths were caused by accidents or infirmities, but at times he was called in to help investigate a murder.
Like the case of Roger the Engineer.
The guy with the broken neck on the boat that wasn’t there when Jackson had arrived on the scene but was on the bed a mere two minutes later after Jackson had been attacked and knocked unconscious.
As you might imagine, ever since Jackson had groggily shared that bit of news with us, I became a bit obsessed, which eventually made Josie extremely cranky and forced her to seek sanctuary in the condos. I found her hiding behind Tiny, a Great Dane that had been dropped off at the Inn in the middle of the night a couple of years ago. Now he was one of the fifteen dogs we considered ours and off the list of dogs eligible for adoption. As far as Josie and I were concerned, Tiny was already rescued.
Josie made the call and later that afternoon we headed for Freddie’s office that was next door to the hospital and not far from the police station. That’s one of the things I like about living here. Nothing is very far from anywhere.
We parked right in front, and when I climbed out of the SUV, I felt a brisk north wind hit me in the face. My eyes watered, and I flipped my collar up and scrunched over as I trotted toward the door. Judging from the way Josie laughed, my trot must have looked more like a wind-aided stagger.
I so need to get to the gym.
But you can work up quite a sweat trying to walk through a thirty mile an hour north wind with gusts to forty. Technically, it wasn’t a workout, but I’m going to count it.
I should point out that I love pretty much everything that comes out of Canada including the people, the music, their beer, and hockey. But on many days, I wished they could figure out a way to keep the north wind to themselves.
Ever since Josie arrived in town four years ago to open the Inn with me, Freddie had his eyes on being more than friends with her. But Josie continued to politely refuse any and all of his requests for dates that might lead to bigger things. One day I asked Freddie why he always asked her to go to lunch or dinner, instead of trying another approach with something simpler like taking a nice walk or maybe going for a boat ride. He responded by saying that his chances with Josie were minuscule, and if he removed the prospect of a good meal from the equation, he knew whatever chance he did have would completely evaporate.
I like the way he thinks.
And I had to admire his tenacity.
The guy is tireless on the Josie front.
Right now, I was witnessing another of Freddie’s attempts at weaseling a date out of her. As always, Josie gently and politely deflected it away. But Freddie had stopped by Paterson’s bakery and picked up a box of their brownies.
Score a point for our local M.E.
I finished my second brownie and turned all business.
“Josie said she mentioned over the phone what Jackson told us,” I said.
“You mean about how the body wasn’t on the bed when he got there?” Freddie said, leaning back in his chair.
“Yeah,” I said. “Do you think that’s possible?”
“Gee, I don’t know, Suzy,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure there was enough time. Whoever did it must have heard people running along the dock, right? They would have had only had a minute or two tops before someone else showed up. Maybe Jackson’s mistaken. He’s been through a lot.”
“Maybe,” I said, nodding. “The cause of death was the broken neck, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” he said.
“Pretty much?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Is that the technical term?”
“Relax, Suzy,” he said. “I was just trying to lighten the mood. Look, in cases like these, when the spinal cord is severely injured, and the injury occurs at or above C5, breathing can be affected. The portion of the spinal cord that controls breathing runs through that area of the spinal cord.
“C5 is the name of a vertebra isn’t it?” I said.
“Yes, the fifth cervical vertebra,” Freddie said. “When the injury is in that spot the person can die from asphyxiation. That’s what happened to Roger.”
“You’re sure?” I said.
“I’ll go 99.9% sure,” Freddie said, shaking his head. “How’s that?”
“So there is a chance it was something else,” I said.
Josie snorted and stared out the window.
“I’m just trying to make sure we don’t miss anything,” I said, glancing back and forth at them.
“I think you’re safe to proceed with whatever you’re doing under the assumption that Roger died from a broken neck,” Freddie said. “By the way, what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I said.
Josie sighed audibly and looked at Freddie.
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“Was there an autopsy done on the body?” she said.
“No, it was pretty clear what happened, and his family didn’t want one,” Freddie said.
Josie nodded as she stood and reached for another brownie.
“Thanks, Freddie,” Josie said, zipping up her coat. “Ready to go, Miss Marples?”
“Funny,” I said, pulling on my jacket. “Thanks, Freddie. By the way, we’re going to be having a little welcome home party for Jackson at the house when he gets back.”
“I’m in. Just let me know,” Freddie said. “Should I bring anything?”
I looked at Josie who was polishing off the last of her brownie. I glanced at Freddie and pointed at the empty box.
“Another box of those probably couldn’t hurt,” I said.
Outside, the wind was howling even harder, and we slowly made our way back to the car, and I turned on the heater.
“I know it’s still only September, but I think that it might be a good night for a fire. Chloe is going to love sleeping in front of the fireplace,” I said.
“Hmmm,” Josie said, staring out the window.
“I hate to start using it this early, but what can you do, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her forehead.
I glanced over at her. I had no idea where she was at the moment. It certainly wasn’t here in the car.
“And I’m thinking about rubbing suntan lotion over my naked body in front of the fire to see if I can get an early start on my winter tan,” I said.
“That’s nice,” she said, then snapped to attention. “What did you say?”
“Earth to Josie,” I said, laughing.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was just thinking about something.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I said, turning into our driveway. “What’s on your mind?”
“I was just sitting here thinking that it would be impossible to get Roger the Engineer’s body on the bed after Jackson was attacked.”
“Go on,” I said, nodding.
“There was so much blood on the floor,” she said.
“Yes, there was.”
“And while the floor space below deck is big for a boat, it certainly couldn’t be called spacious.”
“No, it couldn’t,” I said.
“And if someone had killed Roger or even tried to position the body on the bed, there should have been bloody footprints all over the place.”
“Yes, there would have to be,” I said, coming to a stop in front of the house and turning the car off.
“Suzy?”
“Yeah.”
“You already figured all that out, didn’t you?”
“Yup.”
“Why didn’t you mention it?”
“Would you have believed me if I had?” I said, climbing out of the car.
“No,” Josie said.
“Well, there you go.”
I smiled as I climbed the steps. When it came to Josie, sometimes you just had to be patient and wait for her to figure things out. Eventually, she always got there.
I’m not sure that strategy was going to work for Freddie, but it was probably the only chance he had.
Chapter 11
Chef Claire called it her version of a potluck supper. All of the dishes were common at communal gatherings, but the difference was that Chef Claire had done all the cooking. We’d come up with the idea after running into Captain Bill, Alice, and the two other members of the crew we hadn’t met yet at the grocery store. They’d been bemoaning the fact that all of them were stuck in a motel until the boat was ready for its trip to Florida and that their ability to do any real cooking was limited.
I thought having all of them over for dinner was the neighborly thing to do. Josie thought I was simply trying to get them in the same place for several hours to see if any of them slipped up and divulged incriminating information.
Tomato, tomahto.
I surveyed the kitchen with Chloe at my heels. The smells were sending her into a frenzy. I wasn’t far behind. Josie was pacing the kitchen like an expectant father and kept casting loving stares at the stove.
Chef Claire was taking advantage of the cold weather to put together a comfort meal menu. On the stove were three large pots. In one of the pots was a ham and spinach cream soup I’d tasted earlier. It was a total knee-buckler. In another pot, there was a turkey and pork belly chili I hadn’t been able to get my hands on yet. But it smelled fantastic. In the third pot was a beef stew that had my name all over it and I was tempted to go in for a sample despite the fact that Chef Claire was holding a large knife and giving me a hard stare.
“Don’t you guys have work to do?” Chef Claire said.
“Not really,” I said.
“No, I’m good,” Josie said.
Chloe barked once and sat down staring up at Chef Claire.
“She gets that from her mother,” Josie said, laughing.
“Let’s try this. Why don’t you guys grab the tray that’s on the top shelf of the fridge and head for the living room?” Chef Claire said, turning back to the stove.
Josie removed the tray and set it down on the table. She removed the foil and stared at it.
“Is that what I think it is?” I said.
“Yes,” Chef Claire said. “That’s my famous cold appetizer tray you’ve heard so much about.”
I stared down at the collection. Roasted red peppers bathing in olive oil and garlic. Deviled eggs with bacon and scallions. Hummus and a host of other dips and salsas. A variety of sliced vegetables along with other assorted items I wouldn’t be able to identify until I tasted them. Chef Claire removed a loaf of fresh bread from the oven and sliced it. She arranged the bread around the edge of the tray then pointed at the living room.
“Now go,” she said, laughing. “What a couple of mooches you two are.”
I followed Josie out of the kitchen, and we sat down on a couch with the tray in front of us on the coffee table. I gently shooed Chloe toward the fireplace, and she stretched out and was soon asleep in front of the fire. Sluggo was already there and barely looked up. He still hadn’t eaten, and I was getting a bit concerned, but Josie kept reminding me that a healthy dog wouldn’t starve itself to death.
I carefully draped one of the roasted red peppers on a piece of warm bread and tossed it back. Josie had decided on full frontal assault on the deviled eggs. Five minutes later, we took a short break and a sip of wine. We sat back and sighed.
“Unbelievable,” I said.
“So good,” Josie said. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea for Chef Claire to reward our hovering like this.”
“Yeah,” I said, leaning forward to grab one of the eggs. “If this is our punishment, I’m going to buy a hoverboard.”
A car pulled into the driveway, and I got up and headed for the front door. I looked out through the window and saw Captain Bill towering over his three companions. I’d forgotten what a large man he was. I opened the door, and the four members of the crew stepped inside and removed their jackets. We exchanged greetings, and I handled coat duty while Josie poured the wine. Alice got reacquainted with Chloe, but only got a mild snort out of Sluggo.
“So, do you folks have a departure date yet?” I said, settling back on the couch.
“No,” Captain Bill said, helping himself to the appetizers. “But the police did finish up today, so it’s no longer a crime scene.”
“Well, that’s good news. Now you can start the renovations, right?” I said.
Captain Bill stared at me, then glanced around at the other members of his crew. I recognized their confusion and felt the need to explain myself.
“John told us that the owner in Florida changed his mind and wanted to do something different below deck.”
“Yes, he does,” Captain Bill said, reaching for a deviled egg.
“Such a pity,” Josie said. “I thought the marble and wood looked fantastic.”
“Yeah,” Alice said, helping herself to a
small plate of hummus and sliced veggies. “It’s just too heavy.” She paused and looked around. “Sometimes heavy is good, other times not so much.”
Captain Bill chewed slowly and looked at Alice. She caught his eye and blushed. Then she flashed him a smile. He gave her a nervous cough in return. I glanced at Josie. She’d caught the exchange as well. I think we may have just figured out the identity of the amorous couple on the boat with the shotgun.
Good for them I decided. It was a long way to Florida and, after all, how much reading could one do?
I turned to the other two members of the crew. They were in their early twenties, both very good looking and obviously a couple. They shared a plate of food like two people married for twenty years. The young man, who went by the name of Axel, looked around the living room.
“This is a great house,” he said. “And the big building down the hill is where you keep all the dogs?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “That’s an interesting accent. Where are you from?”
“I’m originally from Portugal, but moved to Montreal when I was a kid.”
“I love Montreal,” I said.
“Yeah, I like it,” he said. “I hadn’t planned on staying there, but when I met Sheila a couple of years ago, my plans changed in a hurry.”
Sheila blushed and squeezed Axel’s hand. He beamed at her and stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand.
Maybe I needed to reconsider the identity of the couple on the boat.
“So do you guys work on boats full-time?” Josie said.
“We have been,” Axel said. “But after we finish this trip, Sheila and I are going to take an extended break and try to figure out what we want to do next.”
“I’d go crazy if I were stuck on a boat all the time,” Josie said.
“Yeah, it can get old after a while,” Sheila said.
It was the first time she’d spoken, and I detected a hint of a French accent.
Since she was from Montreal, I really couldn’t take much credit for figuring that one out.
“Not for me,” Captain Bill said. “Being on the water is the only time I feel alive. And being stuck here is driving me crazy.” He glanced back and forth at Josie and me. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. It’s a nice town, but I need to get back on the water.”
