DUNE, DOCK, and a DEAD MAN: A Ravenwood Cove Cozy Mystery

by Carolyn L. Dean

  “This wasn’t just a heart attack. This was murder.”

  Chapter 5

  Weeks before, when Amanda had first seen the name of the lone pizzeria in Ravenwood Cove, she hadn’t been expecting much. There weren’t too many pizza restaurants that she’d ever heard of with the word “Heinrich’s” in the name, but one day she’d given in to her nose and followed the gorgeous aroma of garlic sautéed in butter, and gave it a try.

  The pizza had been amazing and Heinrich, the owner, had looked on in smug satisfaction as Amanda devoured slice after luscious slice. Her mouth still full of melted cheese and perfect pepperoni, she looked up in near-apology, and he knew right away what that look meant.

  “I know, I know. You think this place should’ve been named Luciano’s or something Italian, right? Well, just because my Austrian ancestors didn’t invent pizza doesn’t mean I can’t cook it.” After that, Heinrich’s Pizzeria became one of her regular stops. It didn’t hurt that Heinrich made sure to buy as many of his ingredients as possible from local farmers and merchants, and Amanda often saw Andrew Barton delivering homemade mozzarella or Mrs. Bitterman bringing in bags of her tasty basil and garlic.

  It seemed like the perfect place to meet James for lunch, and he texted confirmation that he would be there in an hour. She showed up a bit early to get a table, remembering how busy it had been a few days ago. The local shop owners had been rushing in for a noontime lunch hour, and she’d had to dodge Bob Evans wheeling in a cart of pizza flour and Owen Winters juggling boxes of herbs as they made deliveries, threading through the lunch crowd to get their product to the big walk-in cooler in the back. Even with all the people who showed up at lunch Heinrich was in his element, shifting from welcoming host to expert pizza artist with good humor and ease.

  She chose a back booth by the kitchen so they could have some privacy while they talked, and didn’t have long to wait. James nearly jogged in, quickly sighting Amanda and breaking into a big smile as he slid into the seat opposite her.

  “So sorry I’m late, but I stopped to help a stranded motorist. Have you ordered yet?” Amanda showed him her selection on the paper menu and he nodded happily. “Looks good. I’m starved!”

  Amanda fidgeted a bit, and then plunged into what she’d been mulling over while she waited. “I was hoping we could talk about what you’d discovered about Anderson Bowles. James, I know you found a bullet lodged in the motor –“

  “And a bullet hole in the side of the boat,” James added helpfully.

  “Yes, so if there were at least two shots fired, why wasn’t there blood on the body, or under it? If Anderson had been shot, wouldn’t there be more…” Amanda struggled for the proper word – “Gore?”

  James lowered his voice so that the two of them were the only ones who could hear. “I don’t think he was shot. Someone definitely was firing a gun there, but I don’t think that’s what killed him. Also, they could’ve been firing a gun weeks or months beforehand. We won’t know until the crime lab goes over all the evidence.”

  Amanda paused, putting together what James was saying and trying to shift gears from her previous thought that Anderson had been killed by a gun. “Do you know anything about the bullets?”

  James leaned forward, his face deadly serious. “Amanda, if I talk to you about this I need to be sure that nothing’s going to wind up in the paper. I know you’re friends with Lisa, but any time too much information gets out it can jeopardize an investigation.”

  She looked surprised. “I promise, okay?” Maybe James had to say what he did, but it still kind of hurt her feelings that he would think that she would blab to the local reporter, even if she was her friend. “Whatever we say at the table stays at this table.” She shifted in her chair, and finally said, “I have to admit I feel kind of involved in all this because I was the one who found the body. Also, since I was there when he had the argument at the farmers market I think I deserve to know what’s going on with the investigation.”

  “I know you’re not involved in his death, Amanda, or I wouldn’t even be talking to you about all this. They’ve installed videocams at the cannery to keep vandals away, and one of them clearly shows you walking on the beach and then discovering the body.”

  It had never occurred to her that there would be any question about whether she was a part in Anderson Bowles’ death.

  “So I’m not a suspect, right?”

  He grinned. “You’re only in trouble if you don’t keep your voice down. Glad we’ve got a back booth.”

  James flagged down a passing waitress and asked for a couple of sugar packets and three creamers, then turned back to Amanda, his face serious. “Okay, we did learn some things about the bullet but not as much as I’d hoped. Only the caliber. It was a .38.”

  Amanda didn’t know much about guns and most of what she had learned had been gleaned from TV. “Is that an unusual size of bullet? Is there any way you can find out who it belonged to?”

  “I can’t tell you whose gun it was fired from, but I can tell you the bullet that was shot into the motor had a trajectory that started about two feet above the bottom of the boat.” Amanda looked surprised and James continued. “Whoever fired that gun wasn’t standing up when pulling the trigger. It looks like somebody was lying down or crouching.”

  “Crouching? Wouldn’t somebody who was trying to kill him have shot it from a different boat, or would have been standing over him?”

  “That’d be what I’d expect, too. We checked the markings on the bullet and searched the national database but didn’t get any matches. Whatever gun that came from, it hasn’t been recorded as being used in any crime.”

  James poured some cream in his coffee and started to stir it, his mind obviously not on what he was doing. “Amanda, I need to ask you some questions about Meg and her relationship with Anderson Bowles.”

  There it was, the question that Amanda had been dreading. “What do you want to know?” She asked, trying not to sound defensive. Meg had been the first friend she’d made in Ravenwood Cove, and she felt protective of her.

  “I need to know what their relationship was like and why they stopped dating. I know all about the argument at the farmers market, and I just need you to tell me what happened.” When she leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest, James pressed on hurriedly, knowing that whatever he said would upset her.

  “Look, Amanda, you talk to your girlfriends all the time and I know you three talk about your personal lives, including who you’re dating.”

  “They met over the internet, dated a couple of times, and he turned out to be a total jerk who only wanted one thing.” James raised his eyebrows and Amanda continued. “When Meg wouldn’t give it to him and dumped him he started stalking her.”

  “Apparently he didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. I don’t know if he’d never been rejected before or what his problem was, but the day at the farmers market he started yelling and grabbed her, and then George took him off to jail. By the way –“she straightened up, her face serious. “why didn’t he stay in jail?”

  “Owen Winters didn’t press charges, and Meg wouldn’t, either. He was out the next day after paying a fifty dollar fine for disturbing the peace. I know George advised him to leave town and that he’d planned to keep an eye out for him, but apparently that didn’t work out.”

  “What about the boat? Did it belong to Bowles?”

  James shook his head. “Nope. It’s from Ian Victor’s boat rental business, and he’s not very happy that we’ve had to keep it as evidence, even if it is one of the smallest fishing boats he rents out. Says he was going to sue us and then we’d all be working for him. The whole police force, sheriff included.” James rolled his eyes and took a sip. “As if I’d work for a boss like that.” He winked mischievously at Amanda and she laughed.

  “Isn’t Ian the balding guy who always seems to be drinking coffee at Ivy’s and working the crossword puzzle in the n
ewspaper?”

  James nodded. “That’s the guy. On bad weather days there aren’t many people who will rent boats and Ian would rather drink two gallons of coffee and chat about who’s catching what off the bar than go home to that wife of his.”

  Heinrich brought the hot pizza over himself, the top of it still steaming from the brick pizza oven. He slid it in front of James with a smile and stuck out his hand. “Always happy to feed the local peacekeepers, Detective. How’s the knee?”

  James shook Heinrich’s hand and grinned. “Right as rain, Heinrich. How’s biz?” Heinrich face lit up. “Best it’s ever been, thanks to that little lady right there,” he said as he gestured at Amanda. “Lots of new customers every weekend, and now we’re busy even during the week. She’s a wonder!”

  James’ eyes lingered on Amanda’s face. “Yep, she is.” Just the action of James looking at her face made her feel self-conscious and she dropped her eyes and smoothed back a stray lock of her hair. Heinrich headed back to the kitchen and James started dishing up the pizza onto crockery plates as if the conversation was done, but Amanda had other plans.

  “What’s up with your knee?”

  James made a face of disgust. “I fell off a horse about a week ago. I was riding a gelding that hadn’t been ridden for a while and well, he had an attitude.”

  “He dumped you.” Amanda couldn’t help but grin at the mental image of her tall friend being unceremoniously bucked off a horse.

  “My foot was still in the stirrup so it twisted my knee a bit. No big thing.” He brushed it off but she could tell he was a bit embarrassed.

  “Let me guess. Your spiffy cowboy boots got caught?”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.” His voice was serious but his eyes were sparkling, and he finally shrugged in confirmation.

  “After we polish off this pizza, I think we should swing by Ian’s boat rental place. The weather’s decent and I didn’t see him sitting by the front window at Ivy’s so it should be a good time to ask him a few questions.”

  Amanda sat back, surprised. “You want me to come with you?”

  The detective nodded and shook some extra red peppers on his slice of pizza. “Yes, I do. Ian doesn’t care much for anyone telling him what to do, and that definitely extends to anyone with a badge. I’ll bet he’d talk to a pretty girl, though,” he added, taking an enormous bite of pizza and smiling at her.

  “So I’m your partner, detective?” she teased.

  James’ enigmatic smile stayed in place. “You really haven’t met Ian yet, have you?”

  Chapter 6

  Within twenty minutes, James was sitting in the passenger seat of Amanda’s car, and Amanda was pulling into the gravel parking lot by Ian Victor’s small boat rental business. Amanda loved her new car, even if it wasn’t truly new. She’d bought it right after her old one had been totaled by Charles Timmins when he’d tried to kill her. It felt good to be rid of the battered car, because just looking at it brought back the feelings of fear and pain from that terrible day, and besides, it didn’t have cargo space for supplies for the Ravenwood Inn or enough headroom for her tall friend, James.

  Business must’ve been good that day because Ian was sitting on a tall stool behind the Dutch door of his office, the bottom part closed and the top of the door swung open to let in the rare fall sunshine. Supposedly waiting for customers, his nose was buried in his newspaper but he folded a corner back when he heard the crunch of tires in the parking lot and the ignition being turned off. At the sight of James he scowled and quickly ducked behind his paper again.

  Amanda stood at the halfway open door, a small wooden counter tacked onto the outside so the owner could do business without ever having to leave the comfort of his small shack. James waited with her, but after a full thirty seconds of being ignored, his patience snapped.

  “Hello, Ian. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “We’d just like to ask a few questions,” Amanda added, helpfully.

  “Sorry, I’m busy today. Lots of tourists, and I’m waiting on six boats to come back,” the newspaper said.

  James looked at Amanda, his eye roll showing his impatience.

  “Look, it’ll just take a –“

  “Got my boat out of the evidence impound yet, or are you planning on keeping it through the winter? Some of us gotta earn an honest living, ya know.” The words were directed at James, the tone bitter. The newspaper stayed an unmoving wall between them.

  “Mr. Victor, we’re trying to clear this whole thing up so you can get your property back as quickly as possible, I promise. Please, won’t you take just a moment to speak with us?” Amanda tried to make her voice as calm and sweet as possible, hoping to charm the old curmudgeon, and when the paper flexed and then one side folded back she knew that her attempt must’ve worked.

  “If you’re trying to help me get my boat back young lady, I’m all ears. What can I do ya for?”

  Amanda smiled at Ian, who perked up and looked more interested, but her mind was racing to think of the info James would want. They’d been chatting a bit in the car and somehow the topic of what questions to ask hadn’t come up. She was trying to keep James out of it, since Ian obviously didn’t want to talk with him.

  “I’m just trying to find out more about the man who rented your boat. Can you tell me anything about why he wanted it, or if you noticed anything peculiar at all?”

  Ian leaned forward across the small counter, his previously-cold expression now changed to obvious interest, his bushy eyebrows raised over friendly blue eyes. “For you, young lady, anything.” His attempt at a smile came out a bit too much as a leer, but Amanda ignored it, even though she could feel James’ attention tighten up on the boat owner.

  Ian pointed up at the battered wooden sign over the door, with WHALE WATCHING painted in faded blue letters and a poorly-drawn cartoon of a spouting whale on each end. “Guy said he wanted to go see the whales. I told him it was the wrong season, that the grays wouldn’t be down this part of the coast until about November, except for a few loners, but he kept insisting that he wanted to go see whales. I figured his money was as good anyone else’s so I rented him a boat and told him to stay close to the shore. He had a life vest and a cooler with him, and I made sure he knew how to handle that motor before I even took his money.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual? Was anyone following him, or did anyone else get in the boat?”

  Ian folded his paper away, obviously thinking. “No one else got in that boat, Missy, and I didn’t see a soul around except the seagulls. Most of the people rent boats early around here, wanting to follow the morning tide out of the cove, and it was mid-afternoon before that guy showed up. Some of the rentals were already back, and he seemed to have a hard time getting out of the cove with the tide being what it was. I watched him to be sure he knew what he was doing, but it looked like he’d handled a boat before so I went back in the office.”

  Ian glanced at James and pointedly sniffed. “I always make sure my customers are safe when they leave. Not my fault what happens to ‘em once they’re out to sea. They sign a contract that says they pay for any damage or loss and it’s all nice and legal, tight as a drum.”

  Amanda knew the tide could be tricky if someone was trying to get out of Ravenwood Cove at the wrong time of day, and could definitely understand why Ian would’ve considered Anderson Bowles skilled if he was able to go against the tide.

  “Can you tell us anything else, sir?”

  The boat owner leaned an elbow on his small counter and set his chin in his hand, his focus completely on Amanda.

  “And what do I get if I help with the investigation?” he asked, and grinned broadly.

  Apparently, James was getting frustrated with the direction the conversation was going. “You don’t get a subpoena slapped on your desk and have to spend time away from your work while we question you. That’s what you get.” His voice was calm, his face carefully neutral, but there was no question that he me
ant business.

  Ian glanced at him again and straightened up, still addressing Amanda. “Fine. Well, that guy was kinda weird when he showed up. It was getting cloudy and he kept griping about the new sunglasses he’d bought. Wouldn’t shut up about ‘em. He kept giggling a lot, too. At first I thought he was drunk or something, but he was talking real clear and didn’t slur when I went over the contract and he didn’t smell like booze, so I figured he was just kinda…off.”

  Amanda frowned, puzzled. “He kept complaining? About what?”

  “What didn’t that guy complain about?” Ian started ticking off a list on his fingers. “He didn’t like how much I was charging him for the rental. He told me that this town sucked and that all the girls were ugly. He was chuckling and talking to himself and whining about how his two hundred dollar designer sunglasses were making things look yellow and green and kind of smeared.” Ian picked up his neglected newspaper and looked disgusted. “I guess he thought somebody had sold him a knockoff pair or something. Said he was going to get his money back but he didn’t have the receipt, and he’d have to drive all the way to Portland.” Ian rolled his eyes. “Not like most of us have two hundred dollar sunglasses to brag about.”

  “Did you notice anything else?” Amanda could tell Ian was starting to get bored with the whole conversation, his poor attempt at flirting going completely unrewarded. He sat back in his chair and unfolded his paper, but stopped as if something had just occurred to him.

  “Well, he did have a lotta trouble figuring out which credit card to use. He seemed real confused about which one to give me. He actually tried to pay with his Chevron card.”

  James took one step toward the half-open door, and Amanda instantly knew that something Ian said must’ve caught James’ attention.

  “Ian, how much did you charge for the boat rental?”

  Bushy eyebrows raised, the little man did his best to look completely innocent.

  “No more than what was fair.”