I took a bite and let the chocolate linger in my mouth. This man knew how to bake. “Excellent! Thanks for the treat.”
Helen nodded in agreement, her mouth filled with cupcake.
“It was nice to meet you, Jason,” I said. “I need to go get some work done. I look forward to sampling more on Saturday.”
Back in my room, I started the computer, created a new Word document, and stared at the blank screen. The company wanted to know the circumstances of Bob’s fall from my perspective and whether or not their pamphlets, which included things to avoid, should be changed.
I began typing. The spot where Bob fell would be considered safe by most coastal standards. In a few brief corporate-speak sentences, I described the scene and proposed that no changes be made in guest recommendations. I noted that an autopsy was being performed to see if an explanation, such as a heart attack, could account for the fall.
I printed a copy of the report, then pulled a folder from my briefcase labeled BOB PHILLIPS and opened it. It had his company employment information and a brief memo, stating he was found by a tourist at three thirty Monday afternoon. I placed the report in the file folder and put it in a file holder next to the computer. I attached what I had written to an e-mail and sent it off. The report wasn’t the place to discuss my growing belief that Bob was murdered.
I put on my fleece and hat, making it to the kitchen just as Suzie knocked. I waved her in.
“Ready?”
“You bet.” I followed her out.
Suzie walked fast, and I increased my pace to keep up.
“I’m going to take you to the Hudson House first. It was built in 1874 and has a museum and an interesting reference library.”
“Great.” I tightened my chin strap as a gust of wind threatened to dislodge my cowboy hat.
“I love your hat.” Suzie glanced at it.
“Thanks. It was a gift from my family. My brothers got the horsehair for the chin strap and the hatband. Grandpa wove the band, and Dad made the stampede string. My sister bought the hat, and Mom put it all together.”
“Wow! That’s neat. It’s like they’re all here with you.”
“That was the idea.” That, and wishing me luck this job would be the one I could hang my hat on.
Suzie stopped at a white-fenced yard. “I have a few distant cousins in Los Angeles. That’s it.” She pointed to a yellow gingerbread-trimmed home. “This is Hudson House.”
I stared at the building with its multiple roof peaks and inviting covered porch. “It appears really well-kept.”
“Volunteers maintain the home and do an excellent job. They offer tours of the house and Redwood Cove. The Redwood Cove Visitors’ Center is next. It’s housed in a structure that was built in 1885.”
“I appreciate the time you’re taking to help me get acquainted with the area.”
“Glad I can help.” Suzie headed down the boardwalk.
“How long have you been in Redwood Cove?”
“About fifteen years.” Suzie shoved her hands in her pockets. “I was living in Los Angeles. When I went through a nasty divorce, I decided on a complete change of scenery, and I wanted to get far, far away from my ex.”
“I know all about difficult divorces.”
We looked at each other. Unspoken communication about the depth of the pain and hurt passed between us.
“I ended up back at the family ranch.”
“Where had you been living?”
“San Francisco. I went home and worked on the ranch. I ventured out a few times and tried several different jobs. I was a newspaper copy editor for a while, but I didn’t like the hours. A stint as a travel agent didn’t click. I got teaching credentials, thinking that would be a better fit. Nope. A class would end at six minutes after ten and another begin seven minutes later. You had twenty-eight minutes for lunch. Living a life by minutes wasn’t for me. The kids were great though.”
“How is it you came to be here?”
“Our ranch is a resort in the summer. People horseback-ride, hike, and fish. I helped out while I was growing up and again after the divorce. The family wanted me to stay and work there like my brothers and sister. I wanted something of my own. Dad knows Michael Corrigan, owner of Resorts International. He talked to him, and Corrigan gave me a temporary job in Colorado as an assistant. I helped with a difficult situation, and he promoted me to executive administrator. Here I am.”
“Thanks for sharing.” Suzie stopped in front of a modest white house, the United States flag whipping in the wind at the top of the pole in front of it. “This is the Redwood Cove Visitors’ Center. It has information about the area as well as exhibits. They lead a variety of walks. The north side of town borders the cove, and most of the land around it is parkland.”
I was glad we’d stopped. Between my talking and our fast pace, I needed a chance to catch my breath.
“There are more places to see, but it’s time to head to Noah’s Place. I need to get back to work soon.” Suzie pointed across the street. “That’s the Ralston Hotel, where I’m general manager. We can cut through over there, and you can see more of the town.”
The building she indicated was a lovely Victorian with wood shingle siding in a scalloped pattern skirting the bottom of the building. The upper part of the hotel displayed traditional vertical boards. The chosen color was cream with white trim. The lush vegetation spoke to the optimal coastal weather conditions for plants.
Locals, many with long hair and ragged jeans, were easily distinguished from visitors. Whenever one saw Suzie, there was a wave or a nod. She led me to a light yellow building with black trim, then opened the screen door and held it for me.
We found a place in the back with menus between salt and pepper shakers. Staff bustled among the tables. The rich smell of baking pizza and the happy chatter of locals and tourists enveloped me. A young boy eating, as well as wearing, his ice cream leaned against his mother’s leg. I surveyed the list and determined it was raspberry chocolate fudge by the colors on his T-shirt.
“They have lots of pizza choices, salads, and vegetarian options. Most of the ingredients are organic.” Suzie scanned the menu. “The ice cream is locally made. They have twenty flavors daily and rotate the offerings.” She put the menu down.
“Hey, Suz, how’s it going?” A young man with a sunny smile, tie-dyed shirt, and well-worn jeans came to the table. His almost-shoulder-length dark brown hair was tucked behind his ears.
“Noah, I’d like you to meet Kelly Jackson. She’s managing the Redwood Cove Bed-and-Breakfast for a while.”
“Nice to meet you.” A cloud passed over his face. “Any news on Ruth?”
“She’s out of intensive care,” I said.
“Glad to hear it.” Noah pursed his lips and took out a pad and pen from his back pocket. “What can I get you ladies?”
“I’ll have two slices of the Apprentice,” Suzie said, “and a pot of tea.”
I read the menu. The Apprentice pizza listed roasted garlic sauce, mushrooms, tomatoes, chicken, and caramelized onions all topped with fresh basil.
“Any suggestions?” I scanned the choices.
He cocked his head at me. “You might want to try the grilled portobello mushroom burger. Like nothing else on the planet.”
The description of Noah’s burger won me over. Organic mushroom caps marinated in balsamic vinegar and fresh rosemary, among other wonderful seasonings. Toppings included grilled red onions, avocado, spinach, tomatoes, and pepper jack cheese. A seasonal green salad came on the side. “Burger it is, and I’ll have tea, as well.”
“Got it.” Noah went to a side bar and came back with a wide array of organic teas from New Way Tea Company.
“You wanted to know about my meeting with Bob.” Suzie put the tea bag into the pot that had whizzed to our table in record time.
“Please.” I placed my purple napkin in my lap and pulled my notebook from my fanny pack.
“Bob came over because he wanted
to review the details for the chocolate and wine festival one more time. His thoroughness was legendary.” Her smile was a quiet one, not the usual bright burst I’d become accustomed to. “We also help with breakfast baking when your inn is as full as it is now. We were discussing pastry choices. Bob was conscientious about having new offerings for the guests.”
“I talked with the wine merchant, Phil. He said the same thing.”
“Bob worked hard to build a loyal clientele.”
“Do you know where Bob was before he met you or where he was going afterward?”
“No, we didn’t talk about it.”
“What time did he meet with you?”
“It was eleven. Speaking of the festival, I need to show you where some of the food is going to be stored and give you a couple of keys. Would tomorrow morning work?”
“It should. I don’t know the routine at the inn yet to feel comfortable setting a time right now. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”
“Sounds good.”
A waiter arrived and placed food on the table. Suzie’s pizza had mounds of mushrooms; thinly sliced caramelized onions dripped over the sides of the slices. My burger was a riot of color accompanied by a vibrant green salad on the side.
Suzie was a local. She’d know about the Silver Sentinels. I wondered how she felt about them. “There’s a group of senior citizens called the Silver Sentinels.” I sipped my tea. “Do you know them?”
“Yes. I think they’re a nice group of old folks looking for something to do.”
I poured myself more tea. Should I say something about their belief that Bob was murdered? If rumors were going around, she’d probably heard them. Maybe others besides the Sentinels had the same thought. It was worth asking. “They believe Bob was murdered. What do you think? Have you heard anything?”
“Murdered?” Melted cheese dripped from her pizza onto the plate as she held it still. “No, I haven’t heard anything like that. Who do they think did it?”
“They don’t have any suspects. They feel Bob wouldn’t have an accident like that.”
“Accidents do happen, even to experienced people.” She took a bite of pizza, then set the piece on her plate. “Like I said, a nice group of people looking for something to do.”
I took a bite of my lunch. I relished the blend of flavors and textures produced by the salad, the grilled mushrooms, and the accompaniments. “When Helen and I checked Bob’s office, there were a lot of papers scattered over his desk. Helen felt it was unusual.”
“His office a mess? Never.”
I nodded. “That was Helen’s feeling. I talked to Deputy Sheriff Stanton about the office being searched. He thinks an employee was likely trying to find something.”
“Maybe.” Suzie finished her first slice. “I don’t know who it would be, though. I was handling most of the business issues. Our suppliers were pretty much the same. I did the inn’s orders when I did mine. Daniel knows a bit, but Helen is pretty clueless. I can’t think of anything they or anyone else would be looking for.”
I didn’t realize how isolated I’d been feeling. Hearing Suzie mirror my doubts reassured me. An ally.
“What do you think?” Suzie asked.
“I think someone was searching for something. Did you see anyone go in Bob’s office yesterday afternoon?”
Suzie thought for a moment. “Charlie Chan.”
Chapter 10
Noah put the bill on the table. “How was it?”
“Wonderful!” I said. “A creative menu that delivers. What more could someone ask for?”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He cocked an eyebrow at Suzie. “Music here tonight. It’ll be the Road Travelers playing. Good stuff.”
Suzie laughed. “We’ll see how things go at work.”
We paid the bill, thanked Noah, and left.
“There’s Charlie.” Suzie pointed down the narrow alley at the back of the restaurant.
As we walked toward the young man unloading his truck, my cell phone rang.
“Hello.”
“The deputy sheriff returned Bob’s cell phone. Should I put it in the office desk?” Helen asked.
“That works for me. The center drawer of the desk will be fine. Thanks.” I closed the phone. “The sheriff dropped off Bob’s BlackBerry. That should help me track his movements.”
Charlie glanced in our direction. “Hey, how’re you doing?” The future dentist displayed his perfect teeth.
“Hi.” I slipped the phone into my backpack. “Charlie, I have a question for you.”
“Sure, shoot.” He heaved one of the large bottles off the truck and placed it near the back door of Noah’s Place.
“When you went in Bob’s office yesterday, did you notice what his desk looked like?”
Charlie didn’t look at me. “No.” He grabbed another jug and turned to me. “Why?” The smile was gone.
I faltered. Why, indeed? If I was going to question people to try to figure out if they’d searched the desk, I needed to have a reason. I snatched the first thought that entered my mind. “We’re trying to track down some paperwork.” I paused. “You’ve been in the office before. I thought you might have noticed something.”
“I haven’t been with the company that long.” He took off his gloves. “Sorry.”
“Thanks anyway.”
Suzie and I said good-bye and walked down a rutted gravel road toward the inn.
“I appreciate the information you’ve given me and the assistance you’ve given Helen and Daniel.”
“Happy to do it.”
The sound of a rattling car engine approaching us interrupted the conversation.
“Would you two like a lift?” Daniel pulled alongside us in a faded blue Volkswagen van.
“We’re fine walking,” I replied. “I’m getting a lesson in local history.”
“Thanks for asking, Daniel.” Suzie smiled.
“You’re welcome.” The vehicle sputtered down the road.
“He and Bob tinkered on that thing for hours together. Daniel’s love. Bob’s way to be with him.” Suzie seemed to be ready to say more but stopped and shoved her hands into the pockets of her red jacket. Her blond ponytail swung with her long strides.
“Were they close?”
“Daniel was one of Bob’s ‘saves.’ He was always the first to step forward when someone needed help.” She shook her head. “Daniel’s wife left him, clearing out their bank account, taking most everything except for the VW and . . . Allie. Bob loaned him the money to keep the house and hired him full-time when the opportunity presented itself.”
I imagined the pain Daniel felt. Too easy to remember the aching heart. I wasn’t ready to go down the relationship path again anytime soon. And Allie, how devastating for her.
“Here’s where I split off,” Suzie said.
“Thanks for taking me to Noah’s Place.”
“You’re welcome.” Suzie waved. “If you need anything, let me know.”
We parted. The tall Victorian steeple of the B&B on the next block was framed by a sky dotted with small puffs of white and the blue-green ocean in the background. Had Charlie been lying? The happy persona he displayed had disappeared for an instant.
I glanced to my left. Tommy, Allie, and several boys were on the far side of the empty lot I was passing. Tommy’s bike was on the ground, his legs spread apart, his fists clenched as he faced the boys. The ever-present Fred sat next to him. As I watched, Allie put her bike down and stood next to Tommy. She jabbed her finger at the boy in front and leaned down toward him. Allie was a commanding head taller than any of them. I decided to detour in their direction, following a dirt path through the weeds.
As I got closer, Tommy’s flushed face became more pronounced and Allie’s yelling became clearer. Allie took a step closer to the boy, towering over him. “You leave him alone, or you’ll have me to deal with.”
Fred’s doleful eyes rolled in my direction, and he wagged his tail.
�
��And my dog’s not a retard,” Tommy shouted. His white-knuckled fists curled even tighter.
“What’s going on, guys?” I asked with my schoolteacher voice.
“He was going to hit Fred with a stick.” Tommy’s face was blotched red and white.
“No, I wasn’t,” said a chunky boy in a gray T-shirt that sported a picture of a skull with flaming eyes. “I was only messin’ with you.” He tossed the branch he’d been holding.
“What’s your name?”
He scowled at me from under heavy dark eyebrows.
“Micky Donovan,” Allie spat out.
“I’m Kelly Jackson, Micky. Tommy works for my company. Fred’s the inn’s mascot.” Okay. I was inventing a bit. “If I hear of you doing anything to either of them, I’ll not only contact your parents, but I’ll let the deputy sheriff know.”
“C’mon, guys. Let’s go.” Micky shot me a mean look. The one in black leather with chains, greasy hair, and acne peeking through the strands moved away. The younger, plumper version of Micky followed.
“And, Micky,” said Allie, “remember what I said. Tommy’s my friend. You mess with him, you mess with me. And another thing, your trick with the e-mails to get me in trouble didn’t work.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sneered at her.
“I got called in to the principal’s office because teachers had been getting nasty e-mails supposedly from me. You snuck up behind me when I was logging on this morning in computer class, and I bet you saw my password.”
“Did not.” His eyes shifted from side to side.
“The principal knows it’s not me because you sent one of the e-mails when I was talking with my math teacher, Mrs. Owens. I told him what happened in the computer lab. He’ll be calling you in for a talk.” She placed both hands on her hips. “So there!”
“Like I said, I didn’t do anything.” His sullen voice lacked conviction. “Let’s get out of here,” he said to his friends.
The boys walked off, their steps stiff and awkward. Any attempt at being nonchalant failed.
“You kids okay?” I asked.
“Yes, Miss Kelly,” Allie replied. “They’re a group of bullies. Turn tail and run if anyone fights back.”
Murder at Redwood Cove Page 6
