The bell rang, announcing the arrival of a guest. After I checked in a young couple from Berkeley, I walked back to my room, got my things, and carried them to the kitchen. I could see Scott walking toward the inn with a large bundle in his arms. I put my bags in a corner and opened the door.
“Thanks,” he said.
Now I could see he was carrying a large, forest-green dog bed.
“My new job—Fred’s butler.” He held up the bed. “Where should I put it, madam?” he asked with a prim and proper English accent.
“My room’s open. You can put it anywhere in there.”
He walked by, and I did a double take. He wore faded jeans, a tan flannel shirt, and lightweight hiking boots. That wasn’t what he’d worn when we worked together in Colorado. Where was the perfectly attired business executive?
I started pulling out plates for the evening treats, wondering about this new side of Scott.
He returned, announcing, “Mission accomplished. I hope my new boss won’t be too demanding.” He grinned. “Baked dog treats? Heated kibble?”
I smiled. “Fred’s pretty easygoing. I don’t think you need to worry.” I glanced at him as I arranged the plates on trays. “When we worked together at Keane Manor, you only wore ironed khakis, pressed crease down the front, starched white shirts, and loafers. I didn’t know you even owned blue jeans.”
“When Michael called about the situation in Colorado, I was on my way back from an extensive series of business meetings. I had casual wear, but it wasn’t a jeans-type trip. I only had time to change flights and fly straight to the resort.”
Bemused, I sat at the counter and leaned back into its rounded edge.
“So, yes, Ms. Jackson, I wear jeans. I even have denim shirts, work boots, T-shirts with logos on them, old tennis shoes, caps from various events, sweats . . .”
“Okay, okay.” I laughed. “I get it.”
“Three days in Colorado dealing with the situation we had isn’t exactly the best way to get to know someone,” Scott said.
“Agreed.”
“Speaking of which, I’d like to hear about what’s been happening here and learn more about the Silver Sentinels.” He grabbed a loaner jacket from a peg by the door. “I can go to Shadelands Market and get a roasted chicken. They also have prepared salads and side dishes. I’ll put something together for us. We can talk over dinner.”
“Great idea.” This was a different Scott than the one I had met previously. Casual. Easygoing. Relaxed. And in jeans, no less.
The doorbell rang as Scott left. The final guests for the weekend had arrived. After checking them in, I went back to the kitchen and finished assembling the wine and appetizers. As I took them to the parlor, the suspects paraded through my mind yet again. Could I get Stanton to tell me anything? I picked up the bottles of wine from the counter that had been opened and took them to the parlor. What excuse did I have for calling him?
Bingo!
The Professor’s list and their investigation. I had more information for him. I could also tell him about their watching over Tommy.
Perfect.
I punched in Stanton’s cell number, memorized by now.
“Deputy Sheriff Stanton.”
“Hi, it’s Kelly Jackson.”
“Hello, Ms. Jackson. What can I do for you?”
Did I catch a hint of reserve? Maybe wondering what I was bringing his way this time?
“I thought you might like to know what the Silver Sentinels have been up to, and I have more news for you.”
“Right. What are my active seniors into now?”
I explained about the Professor’s plans and the watch group.
“Sounds like something they’d do. And I agree with the Professor. We’ve been pursuing the same line.”
“Were you able to find out anything from Charlie?” I forced a light, happy voice that was becoming all too familiar.
His sigh traveled clearly over the phone. “Ms. Jackson, you know I can’t talk to you about that.”
Rats. “Can you tell me if he has an alibi?”
There was a long moment of silence. “If what he told me checks out, he has an alibi.”
“Thanks for the information. Do you know what kind of vehicle he drives?”
“A small Chevrolet pickup with a white camper shell. Why?”
“It goes back to the Professor’s and my theory the abalone poachers have to work with someone who has connections in San Francisco. Charlie’s family is there, and he visits regularly. They also have to have a vehicle that could transport the bags of abalone.”
“Good thinking, Ms. Jackson,” the deputy sheriff said.
“What color is his vehicle?” No reason to miss an opportunity to gain as much information as possible.
“Silver. Why do you ask?”
“The latest page of notes the Sentinels deciphered has the words silver and gold. It probably refers to money, but someone jotted down color with a question mark. I’m keeping an open mind.”
“Again, good thinking. What else was in the notes?”
I filled him in. “Do you know what the others on our list drive?”
“Andy’s got a gold van, and Jason’s is white. I’m not sure about Phil.”
“Thanks for the information. I can find out what Phil drives.”
“Anything else?”
“That’s it. I hope you don’t have any unpleasant surprises this evening.”
“Me, too.” He hung up.
Silver and gold. Interesting. My car list was well underway. If the colors were connected to vehicles, that would eliminate Jason.
I felt good about providing some information that might prove useful to the investigation. I hummed as I finished putting out the evening’s offerings, started a fire, and began to set the counter for Scott and me. I pulled silverware and napkins from the drawer and dishes from the cupboard. My mind kept churning. Charlie had a vehicle that would work for delivering abalone. Deputy Sheriff Stanton hadn’t yet checked the alibi. Charlie was still in the running.
Scott opened the door as I was putting out wineglasses. He put a large paper bag down on the counter, and we worked together to unload the contents. The chicken was a perfect shade of brown and smelled divine. He’d put together a large green salad with a myriad of additions. I could see small yellow and red tomatoes, green onions, and black beans, among other things. Several small containers of salad dressing appeared. A box of herbed potatoes rounded out the dinner. I liked his choices.
I pulled a bottle of Rose Winery 2006 chardonnay from the refrigerator, took out the cork, and poured some for us.
We both sat with a mutual sigh.
“It’s good to see you again.” He held up his wine, and we clinked our glasses together. “Please catch me up to speed with what’s been happening.”
We ate, talked, and took occasional trips to the parlor to check on provisions and the fire for the guests. By the time we finished dinner, he knew what I knew. By the time we’d cleared dishes together, he knew what I suspected.
“What are your next steps, Kelly?”
Before I could answer, Tommy, Helen, and Fred came in. Daniel and Allie waved from the door and said their good-byes.
“My room’s open. Here are the keys.” I handed them to Helen. “Everyone’s checked in. The fire is dying down. However, there are still a few trays to pick up.”
“I’ll take care of them. Tommy can help me.” Helen’s eyes looked larger than usual due to the dark circles under them. “Thanks again, Kelly.”
“Happy to help.”
“Time to be off to our B&B.” Scott grinned at me.
Inwardly I groaned. Outwardly I smiled, picked up my bags, and grabbed a flashlight from the ones by the door. Here we go.
We let ourselves out the back and heard Helen slide the dead bolt home.
I turned on the flashlight and lit the path to the cottage a short distance away.
The lights were on when we entered. I had
only been in the home once. It had been clear Helen was a meticulous housekeeper, and that hadn’t changed. We walked down the short hallway off of the living room. Helen’s room was on the left. A dark oak double bed with matching bureau furnished the room along with a vanity table and chair. I put my bags down.
Tommy’s room was on the other side. I looked in. A plethora of stuffed animals, books, and models filled every corner and shelf. The bed had a pile of fluffy dogs on it, with one bearing a resemblance to Fred at the front of the heap. The Legos occupied a special area all to themselves on a large bookcase.
Posters of all kinds of dogs papered the wall. German shepherds, bloodhounds, Chihuahuas, and poodles were among the many. While dogs were clearly his favorite, the ceiling had images of soaring eagles, majestic white cranes, and a pair of quail with a passel of fluff balls following them. The bedspread rained cats and dogs. Animal eyes peered from every nook and cranny.
“Are you sure about this? We could fix the couch for you.”
“What? And miss this opportunity to regain my childhood by sleeping in the lad’s room?”
“Thanks for being such a good sport.”
“No problem.” He gestured to the tiny bathroom separating the two rooms. “Ladies first to the facilities. I’m going to read for a bit.”
We said our good nights. After I brushed my teeth, I changed into my flannel pajamas and folded the floral-patterned bedspread down to the foot of the bed. Nestling under the down comforter was heaven.
Darn. I forgot to floss. I eyed my clothes and the robe. Which should I put on? The robe covered most of my ranch pajamas. I hadn’t heard any noise from Scott for a while. It would be a quick trip to the bathroom. I wanted to get back to the warm bed as soon as possible.
I put on the robe, picked up the flashlight, and opened the door an inch. There was a light under Tommy’s door, but I didn’t hear any movement. Tiptoeing to the bathroom caused only a few creaks from the aged wooden floor. I closed the bathroom door, flossed, and got ready to dash back to my room. I opened the door and peeked out. All clear. I took a step, and Scott came out of Tommy’s room.
Caught. Murphy’s Law at work.
He grinned. “Time to brush my teeth and call it a day.” He glanced downward, and the grin widened. “You have animals running all over your clothes.”
“Yes, I know.” I lifted my chin as the raging heat of a blush engulfed my face and silently dared him to say another word.
He opened his mouth, closed it, and said, “’Night, then.” He turned to the bathroom. “I hope the sound of galloping hooves doesn’t keep you awake tonight.”
I closed the bedroom door a little harder than necessary. If running horses kept me up, I hoped a few of those Legos would come alive and clomp around his room.
Chapter 28
The alarm buzzed, and I reached over and pushed down the button. Snuggling into the cloudlike covering of down, I relished the warmth. But only for a moment. It was hard to get up, but sleeping in was a luxury that would have to wait. I threw the covers back and turned on the lamp next to the bed. The soft glow revealed the oak nightstand. Its sheen spoke of years of polishing. I rolled out of bed and put on the workout suit I’d placed on a chair last night. I preferred morning for exercising. It was so much easier when I was still half-asleep.
I flipped the switch for the overhead lights and began the series of kicks and punches I had put together. A chair went flying and hit the wall, the accidental recipient of a back kick. I bent down and straightened it.
“Kelly, are you okay?” Scott shouted and pounded on the door.
“I’m fine.” I rushed to the mirror over the bureau. My bangs stood straight up. I frantically ran my fingers through them, attempting to brush them into place.
“I want to see you’re all right.”
“Really, everything’s fine.” I tried bending the bangs down.
“I don’t know that until I see you. Someone could be making you say that. Open this door now, or I’m coming in.”
“Hold your horses.” Could’ve thought of a better phrase than that, considering my embarrassment last night.
I cracked the door open. “See?”
I was the one who saw. Scott in a snug T-shirt and sweatpants. There was no question he worked out.
“All the way open so I know no one is there.” His brows were knit together so tightly they must’ve hurt.
I swung the door open. “Just me.”
His face relaxed. I was struck by his concern and felt guilty for not responding more quickly.
“Sorry to be so demanding. I was worried when I heard the loud thud. What happened?”
“Knocked over a chair. Not quite enough room for me to do my exercise routine.”
“I’m glad you’re fine. I don’t know about you, but I could use a cup of coffee. Would you like some?” He headed for the cottage’s kitchen.
“Yes, I’d love some. I’ll go with you.” I touched his back lightly, and he turned. “I feel bad about upsetting you.”
“No problem. I’m on edge. After what you told me, it’s clear something dangerous is going on. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Other than family, no one had ever said that to me. It felt good to hear.
Helen had left filters and a jar of finely ground coffee next to the coffeepot. I prepared the top compartment as Scott filled the pot with water.
“What do you do for exercise?” He poured water into the coffeemaker.
“I practice tae kwon do, or did, when I was in San Francisco. It’s based on what I learned from that.”
“What level did you reach?”
Why did I always feel hesitant to tell people? It was one of the most important accomplishments of my life. “Black belt.” I didn’t look at him. I took a couple of mugs off the hooks on the wall.
Scott let out a low whistle. “Impressive. I know who to hide behind if the going gets tough.”
I looked at him, feeling the all-too-familiar warm tingle spread over my face. “We never had to exercise on the ranch. Day-to-day living did it for us from early morning until time for bed. When I left there, I tried workout videos. Not for me. I wanted to do something with a purpose.”
Enough coffee had brewed for two cups. He poured it and placed the pot back.
I took a sip of the hot, dark liquid, savoring the smell as much as the strong flavor.
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’m a gym person. It works well, considering the number of hotels I stay at.”
I wanted to say it showed. Instead, I checked the clock over the stove. “Helen’s starting to put breakfast together. I want to go help her.”
“Count me in.”
We walked back down the hallway and went into our respective rooms to change clothes. I decided to make life simple and went with black stretch jeans, a white shirt, and my black fleece vest with the silver accents. I fought some more with my hair, added minimal makeup, and headed out.
Scott sat in a brown leather lounge chair in the front room, reading the local paper. “Ready?”
“As much as I’m going to be.” I grabbed my coffee mug from the table.
The first rays of sunlight had awakened the birds. Twitters, chirps, and an occasional loud caw from a crow stationed on the whale-shaped wind vane filled the still, moist air. I took a deep breath, relishing the intermingled scents of flowers and the ocean. Early morning was my favorite time with nature.
I tried the handle of the back door of the inn. Locked. Through the window, I saw Helen pulling bowls of fruit from the refrigerator. I knocked.
Helen hurried over and unbolted the door. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Fine. The comforter is scrumptious.”
“Glad to hear it.” Helen frowned. “Tommy, where are you? You were right behind me a minute ago.”
Tommy shuffled into the kitchen, eyes half-closed, hair rumpled, dog-shaped slippers on his feet, velour ears flapping.
His pj’s were covered with dogs of different shapes and sizes. Fred stumbled along behind him.
“I went to get Fred.” He rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. “He was zonked out. I had to shake him to wake him.”
“Time for breakfast.” She patted the counter, then turned to Scott. “How did you sleep? I kept thinking of you on that little bed with all those animals staring at you.”
“No problem. I boned up on my dog breeds and checked out the impressive Lego structures.” He chuckled. “It was fun.”
Tommy settled himself on a stool, and Scott sat next to him. “I like your pajamas.”
I took the place next to Scott.
“As a matter of fact, I saw some similar to those recently, only they had horses on them.”
I stepped hard on the toe of his hiking boot. Not enough to hurt, but enough to get his attention.
Scott pulled his foot out from under mine and gave me an impish grin. He turned to Tommy. “I enjoyed all your dog pictures. What kinds of dogs are on your pajamas?”
“I dunno.” He looked at them as if for the first time. His eyes opened wider. “This is a golden retriever, and this one is a chocolate lab.” He went on identifying each canine. Luckily the pattern repeated itself. “They only show the common breeds. The American Kennel Club recognizes eight hundred and sixty-five breeds. One of the newest ones is the Black Russian Terrier. It was developed by a military kennel named Red Star. It’s a combination of rottweiler, giant schnauzer—”
Helen interrupted, “Tommy, Kelly and Scott have a lot to do. I’m sure they appreciate what you’re sharing. However, I want you to eat your cereal and then get dressed. It’ll be a busy day with the festival going on.”
Tommy’s eyes flew open. “Yeah. I’ve heard people talking about all the chocolate treats that’ll be there.”
“You know you can only have a limited amount. You’ll need to choose carefully.”
Murder at Redwood Cove Page 16
