Something Fishy

by Lois Schmitt

  “I told you on the phone,” Oscar said, before I had a chance to reply. “Someone had splattered blood on the side of the cage to cause a feeding frenzy and had sawed one of the steel bars, so the shark’s jaws could break through.”

  “Who normally goes down in that cage?”

  “No one on a regular basis. Occasionally, we’ve sponsored shark dives as special events.”

  “Who knew Mrs. Farrell would be going down in that cage?”

  Oscar shrugged. “It wasn’t a secret. I had to get approval from Commander West. Bradford Monroe was in the office when the Commander gave the okay. Brad was going to look into having monthly shark dives as a way to raise funds. I think he was talking it up among aquarium supporters, so that’s a lot of folks who knew.”

  “All of the other fish keepers knew too, and I told my friends about this the other day at my yoga class,” Sally added. “They thought it was real cool.”

  News of my shark diving had spread. Then I remembered a comment made yesterday.

  “Lucien Moray knew about this,” I said. “He commented how I might enjoy an evening of relaxation after my adventure today.”

  “But Lucien Moray doesn’t have a way to get in here.” Oscar said. “Only fish keepers and top administrative officials have keys to this exhibit.”

  “If this was deliberate, it had to be someone who works here.” Detective Wolfe snorted, then wiped his nose.

  The statements by Oscar and Detective Wolfe’s were only partially right. Lucien Moray couldn’t saw the bars off a cage because he couldn’t enter a staff-only section of the aquarium. But he certainly had the money to pay someone who worked here to do it.

  Once again, I wondered if an aquarium employee was on Moray’s payroll?

  “Are you going to investigate?” Oscar asked Wolfe.

  “I was called in here because the brass thought this accident might be related to the deaths of the two aquarium employees. I’m not sure it is.”

  “Of course it is,” I replied. “Do we know anymore about Katie’s murder? She didn’t just jump into the sea snake exhibit. When will the autopsy be finished?”

  Wolfe’s face turned from beet red to purple. “I said all I’m going to say about that case. You need to drop this.”

  My daughter’s best friend had been murdered. Now someone had tried to kill me.

  I wasn’t dropping it.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The incident with the shark tank had unnerved me, but I willed myself not to think about it as I sped off to the marina for the party on Lucien Moray’s yacht.

  Moray was standing on the deck, greeting his guests as they reached the top of the gangplank.

  “Kristy Farrell. Glad you could make it.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Let me introduce you to the President of Clam Cove’s Community Business Association, Donna Taylor. She owns the Riptide restaurant.”

  “I’m Donna,” said a well-rounded middle age woman standing to his right. “Lucien told me you’re writing a story on the land acquisition. Why don’t we get a drink, and I’ll tell you why our business community fully supports Lucien’s condominium development.”

  “Our economy is dying,” she said after we navigated our way through the crowd to the bar and placed our orders. “Last winter, four stores in town closed permanently. There weren’t enough people living here to support them. The condos will increase our population.”

  “But won’t the aquarium help the local economy too?” I asked. “After a day exploring the sea life, perhaps aquarium visitors would stop for dinner at your restaurant.”

  “Yes, but they won’t use my law firm,” said a tall man standing near us. He appeared to be in his early forties, with skin the color of espresso. “I couldn’t help hear your conversation. I’m Tyler Sinclair, an attorney with an office on Main Street.”

  “Tyler is also Vice President of the Community Business Association,” Donna said as the bartender handed me a white wine.

  “Unlike Donna’s restaurant, which might attract aquarium visitors, day trippers would not use our local dry cleaner, bank, insurance agency, florist, or pet supply store. I’m sure you get my point,” Tyler said. “The condo owners will support these businesses.”

  “What if Moray decides to erect his own shopping center? “I asked as thoughts of the Patterson Horse Farm flashed through my mind. “Won’t that affect downtown business?”

  “Ah, you heard about the offer Moray made Patterson.” Tyler smiled. “The type of shopping center Moray is known for consists of high-end retail. That’s not what we have downtown. Our residents need to drive to the county center, nearly an hour away, to shop for clothes and home furnishings. So Moray’s shopping center wouldn’t compete with our village stores.”

  “What do you think will happen now, Tyler?” Donna asked. “Do you think Jillian will sell her property?”

  “Yes. She’s in danger of losing the farm to creditors. She might as well make some money. Jillian wasn’t happy about it, but she was willing to sell from the moment Moray made the offer. It was Jack who stood in her way. Jack thought Jillian could turn around the stable’s finances. Plus, Jack hated Moray.”

  “I know Jack was opposed to the buyout, but did he have that much influence on his sister?” I asked.

  “It’s more than influence, dear.” Donna sipped her wine. “Jillian may manage the stable, but her parents left it to both children. Jack and Jillian owned the stable jointly. Any contract to sell the horse farm had to have both signatures.”

  Jillian had neglected to tell me that. “With Jack dead, who inherits his half?”

  “I haven’t seen the will. But I heard he left everything to Jillian.”

  “We’re leaving the dock now,” Tyler said as the yacht started moving. “Shall we get something to eat?”

  Donna and Tyler headed for the indoor buffet, but I decided not to join them. I wandered to the railing near the boat’s stern. It was cool and a bit windy on the deck, and I was glad I was wearing a jacket.

  I was sipping my drink and gazing at the pink/orange sunset over the bay when a young man approached me.

  “Are you the writer?” he asked as he pushed a wisp of his blond hair away from his tanned face. He had the sleek build of a swimmer, and he looked to be in his early thirties.

  “News travels fast.” I smiled. “Kristy Farrell.”

  “I overheard Moray tell some people he invited a writer. You’re the only one here I don’t recognize from town, so I figured it must be you. I’m Noah Manning. I own the bait and tackle shop in town.”

  “May I assume you are a member of the Clam Cove Community Business Association?”

  He nodded.

  “Let me guess. You’re here to tell me why you support Moray’s plan to build condos.”

  “No. I’m one of the few members who doesn’t support it.”

  I fumbled in my bag for my pen and pad. I wanted a quote from this guy.

  “Why are you against the condos?”

  “My bait and tackle store has been in my family for three generations. I love Clam Cove. I don’t want to see its beauty destroyed. The aquarium will protect the marine life. The nature walks will be guided and controlled so no one damages or takes anything away—”

  “But your business?”

  “There’s a tract of land, ten acres further inland, that another developer wants to buy and use to build apartments. It wouldn’t be as big as Moray’s development and certainly not as high- end, but it would provide a significant increase in the population which would help the commerce in town.”

  This was the first I’d heard of an alternative project. “Why aren’t the other members of the Community Business Association in favor of this?”

  Noah shook his head. “Money. The Moray waterfront development is bigger and will house more peop
le who will shop in our community.” He paused. “A lot more rich people. The apartment complex has fewer units and would be strictly for middle class residents with not quite as much spending power. But if it will protect our marine environment, I’m okay with that. It’s a compromise.”

  My mind turned to another matter. “What about Ruby Diamond?” Ever since her friend Kyle tried to ram the aquarium’s tour boat, my suspicions about Ruby and Friends of the Fish had increased. “Do you know her?”

  “Sure do. One weird duck. She’s kept to herself until now. She was never involved in any environmental issues here—even when we had problems.”

  “What problems?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “A few years ago, we had a local company dumping waste. The company ultimately went bankrupt, and the owners went to jail. But during the whole time this issue was being resolved, she never said a word.”

  “Why do you think she’s so concerned now?

  “I think its all about her house.” He grinned. “She wants to live next to an empty stretch of beach.”

  Moray had said the same thing. It made sense but there was something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  Noah said good-bye, and I decided it was time to get something to eat. I headed to the indoor buffet. When I returned outside, the sun had set, replaced by only a partial moon and sprinkling of stars. I grabbed a coffee from the giant urn and talked to a few more people before wandering to the side deck.

  It dawned on me that I hadn’t seen Calvin Chandler. If he was the future sales agent for the condo development, wouldn’t Lucien Moray include him in tonight’s activity? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I did not want to run into Calvin. If I needed to question him further, I’d have a better chance as a prospective real estate client than as a reporter. I needed to find out if he was on the yacht, and if so, stay out of his sight.

  I spotted Moray talking to three women. When they left, I headed toward him.

  “Mrs. Farrell,” he said. “Hope you are enjoying yourself.”

  “I am. But I was wondering if Calvin Chandler is here tonight?”

  “I wouldn’t invite that worm. I don’t want him near me.” Two men approached and Moray turned away from me to address them.

  Donna Taylor was standing nearby. She laughed. “Don’t look so confused. Lucien despises Calvin Chandler. Calvin may think Lucien is his best buddy, but Lucien is only using Calvin to make sure the six million goes to an organization other than the aquarium. Once Calvin distributes the money, Lucien will drop Calvin like a hot potato.”

  An announcement over the loudspeaker said dessert was being served inside. Donna headed back in, as did most of the people on the deck, but with all I’d eaten at the buffet, I was full. I remained outside.

  Moray’s yacht was now headed back to the marina. I saw land in the distance with lights glowing from inside a scattering of houses. Soon we passed the aquarium, then the twenty acres of vacant land. There was nothing now but blackness.

  Then it happened.

  Flashing lights coming from the water, followed by flashing lights on shore.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  My mother was devouring a Danish when I came down to breakfast. The two dogs were on either side, waiting for crumbs. Dogs are such optimists.

  “You’re up early,” I said. Someone, presumably my mother, had made a pot of coffee. I poured some into my mug.

  “Early? In Florida, eight in the morning is mid-day. Besides, I’ve lots to do. Paul and I are spending the day in the city. We’re visiting a museum, browsing the shops on Fifth Avenue, and tonight a Broadway show.”

  “Good.” I straddled a chair, facing her.

  “Oh, by the way, Marcia is having a garage sale, and we need your help.”

  “I take it things are still okay between you and Paul,” I said, avoiding her comment about the garage sale. “Has he revisited investing in his project?”

  “He hasn’t said a word about the investment since the brunch at Marcia’s house. I really think he thought he was doing me a favor by giving me the opportunity to invest with him.”

  “Have you met his family?”

  “Doesn’t have any. He’s an only child who never married.”

  “No distant cousins?”

  “Never mentioned any.” She frowned. “Kristy, why are you prying?”

  “I want to make sure you’re not going to get hurt.”

  “You think knowing his cousins will determine my happiness?” She gave me a hard stare, reminiscent of the stares she gave when I was a teenager.

  “But you know nothing about—”

  “Paul and I are fine. Now, about the garage sale. Marcia is downsizing. She wants to get rid of several of the items she and her late husband collected through the years. She’s holding one big garage sale, and she needs help sorting and arranging her merchandise.

  I sighed, realizing I wasn’t about to worm any information about Paul from my mom. “How do I fit in with the garage sale?” I asked.

  “Can you spare some time to help us?”

  “Okay. How’s Sunday afternoon? But only two or three hours.”

  “Wonderful. Barbara and Tim said they would assist too. But you know your sister-in-law. She’ll cancel at the last minute. I haven’t had a chance to ask Matt yet.”

  “Matt will be working. He has office hours one Sunday a month to accommodate clients whose jobs make it difficult to schedule veterinary appointments at other times.”

  “Sounds like an excuse to me.” She eyed me suspiciously. “What about Abby? And her boyfriend?”

  “Don’t know. You’ll have to ask.” I wanted no part of this.

  “I still haven’t met Jason.”

  “You haven’t been around much.” I glanced at my watch. “I better get to the office. I’ve got a staff meeting in less than forty-five minutes.” Office gossip said that our editor would be making a major announcement concerning the magazine’s future. Every time I thought about this, my stomach knotted up like a pretzel.

  I had finished pouring coffee into my travel mug when my cell phone trilled. Abby’s number popped up.

  “Jason got a call from his friend at the District Attorney’s office,” Abby said. “Katie’s autopsy is finished.”

  “How did she die?”

  “Venom from a sea snake. No surprise there.”

  “Is there any chance she may have fallen into the tank? An accident?”

  “No. The autopsy also showed bruises to her hands and fingers. It looks as if she tried to climb out of the tank, but something came down hard on her knuckles, possibly a baseball bat and—”

  “And that caused her to lose her grip,” I said, completing the thought. “But how did the killer lure her there? She had returned to the aquarium to check on her sea lions. The amphitheater is outside. It’s not anywhere near where she died.”

  “Katie’s degree was in marine biology. She knew about more than sea lions. I’m betting the killer asked Katie to observe unusual behavior with the sea snakes. Katie would have gone willingly and offered her opinion.”

  “That means the killer was an aquarium employee.”

  “Probably. But this is only a theory. The point is we don’t know, so we can’t rule out any suspect. Unfortunately, the autopsy doesn’t bring us any closer to solving the crime.”

  “Not true. Katie and Jack were both killed in different ways, but both methods tell us something about the killer.

  “Killer? Just one? You believe it was the same person?” Abby asked.

  “I do. And we know the murderer possessed two specific characteristics. First, strength. Katie’s killer pushed her into the sea snake tank.”

  “Good point. Katie only weighed around one hundred pounds, but she was strong and active. She’d put up a fight.”

&n
bsp; “Several of the suspects would have the capability to overpower her. Calvin Chandler was a former college football star, Brad Monroe competes in a variety of athletic activities, Commander West is a physically fit navy man.”

  “I bet Katie could have fought off Sam. He doesn’t weigh much more than she does. What about Oscar? I never met him.”

  “Oscar is short and pudgy.” I shrugged. “But we don’t know enough about Oscar or Sam to draw a conclusion. Don’t forget, whoever pushed Katie into the tank probably used the element of surprise which makes it easier to overpower someone.”

  “You’re right,” Abby admitted. “And the other characteristic is knowledge of anatomy and medicine, right? The security guard was shot with a tranquilizer dart with just enough drug to render him unconscious. Jack was killed by a sharp object inserted into the base of his brain. Who would know where to insert a needle to cause instant death?”

  “Commander West started his career as a medical corpsman and Brad Monroe studied mortuary science.”

  “Don’t forget Lucien Moray. He could afford to hire anyone with the expertise needed,” Abby added. “What about Calvin, Sam, and Oscar?”

  “As far as I know they have no medical knowledge. But I couldn’t swear to that.”

  “I contacted Katie’s friend in Connecticut. She told me Katie and Jack had never been in trouble in their youth. She knew them as far back as elementary school.”

  “We had to check it out, but in my gut, I felt it had nothing to do with their earlier years.”

  “I agree,” said Abby. “Their murders stem from their work at the aquarium. But what?”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “Corporate is considering the merger of Animal Advocate with their newest acquisition, Green World,” my editor, Olivia Johnson, stated near the end of the staff meeting, causing me to nearly choke on my donut. I realized our new corporate owners were looking at changes, but I never expected such drastic action so soon. Judging by the “deer in the headlights” stares on most of my colleagues, they didn’t expect this either.