Murder on the Lost Coast (He said, She said Mystery Series Book 2)

by Jeramy Gates

  “You know Jacob was murdered, right?”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to help you poke your nose into this investigation.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if Hillman decides Jacob was murdered, he’ll go where the evidence leads him, and that evidence points right at me.”

  “But if we just sit on our hands, the real killer will cover his tracks and make sure you take the fall.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you think we should do, exactly?”

  “You know what we have to do. We have to find out who really killed Jacob before the sheriff gets back. If we don’t, he’s going to arrest you for murder.”

  I turned, leaning on my cane as I drew my gaze to the yellow crime tape on the lighthouse door. “I’m starting to regret taking this vacation,” I grumbled. Tanja laughed.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s growing on me.”

  “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

  She grinned but didn’t say a word as we started walking back to the inn.

  We discussed the situation over lunch in the dining room. It was quiet. Blake had disappeared into a meeting with Charlotte, and the Lincolns were enjoying a walk on the beach before the next storm hit. Angus was nowhere to be seen; probably back in his room sleeping off a hangover. We weren’t sure where Miguel and Dana had gone, but Chef Melville took our orders himself. Tanja ordered a French dip sandwich. When I asked for a bacon cheeseburger, she didn’t seem impressed with my choice, but I hadn’t had a good burger in weeks, and I wasn’t changing my mind. I’d sacrificed enough at breakfast to make up for it. I told her as much.

  “Fine,” she said grudgingly, “but you’re working it off when we get home. If you think you’re getting out of this marriage with a heart attack at forty-five, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “Relax,” I said. “I have a constitution like a billy goat. It’s hereditary.”

  “Right. Didn’t your grandfather die of a heart attack? And your grandmother on your mother’s side, as well? And one of your uncles succumbed to diabetes, if I remember right…”

  I shot her a dark glare. “You’re not going to ruin this burger for me.”

  Judging from her evil grin, she was just getting warmed up. Thankfully, the chef returned with our drinks at that moment. The second he left, I purposefully turned the conversation to other matters. I had just the thing to take Tanja’s mind off my burger:

  “I wonder how Autumn’s doing,” I said before taking a gulp of cola. Tanja sighed. She dipped her straw into her iced tea and stirred it in slow circles.

  “I’m sure she’s fine. I have to admit feeling a little homesick when I woke up and realized my baby wasn’t there this morning. This is the first time we’ve been away from her overnight.”

  “Grandma and Sheriff Diekmann have everything under control. Between the two of them, they must have raised a dozen kids.”

  “I know that. It’s not that I’m concerned. Not in so many words. I know Bill and Annette are more than capable of taking care of her, and Autumn probably hasn’t even noticed my absence. However, as a mommy it’s my prerogative to have panic attacks when I’m away from my baby. I retain that right, and will until the day I die.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “A lifetime of watching my wife have panic attacks. That heart attack is sounding better and better…”

  Tanja threw her napkin at me. I stuck my tongue out at her. The chef returned with our food before things could escalate further. My eyes widened as he placed the burger on the table in front of me. No less than six strips of bacon were sticking out from under the bun, and the burger… The Burger! There must have been a pound of meat laying there, glistening under the fluorescent lights, beckoning like a beautiful woman on a desert island…

  “So Paul, how do you like working here?” my wife said, jerking me back to reality. “It must be hard getting used to the isolation.”

  I stared at her. I knew what she was doing. She was taking advantage of our lunch to pry the chef for information. That had been her plan all along. I inhaled the scent of my burger, and my stomach rumbled with hunger, but I resisted the temptation to shove the whole thing in my mouth. Instead, I leaned back in my chair and listened attentively to Melville’s answer. It was the polite thing to do, and for a minute or two, I didn’t mind. If it went any longer, I was going to eat without her.

  “It’s not so bad,” the chef said. “Believe it or not, this place is hopping in the summer. That’s when all the tourists are here. In the off season, it can get pretty boring. Sometimes I catch a ride into town to go see a movie.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “About five years.”

  Tanja shot me a curious look. “That’s about the same time Dana started working here, isn’t it?”

  “We all started at the same time. I guess Charlotte had trouble with the old crew. She fired the lot of them. She brought the rest of us in the next summer. Jacob and Miguel started first. The rest of us came on in June, for opening weekend. A couple people have come and gone over the years, but the rest of us are old-timers.”

  “She fired her entire crew?” Tanja said. “Doesn’t that seem a little extreme?”

  “I heard they were embezzling, or something.”

  “The whole crew?”

  “That was the rumor, but what do I know? I wasn’t here. I guess it was the same year her father died, so maybe that had something to do with it. Charlotte can be a little… emotional.”

  “We’ve noticed,” I said.

  Tanja gave me a dirty look. “What about Jacob?” she said, turning her attention back to the chef. “Did you know him very well?”

  “Hardly. He came in for a drink most nights, sometimes even had dinner, but he never talked to me. Or anyone really, except Charlotte.”

  “So she knew him pretty well?” I said.

  “I guess. I’d see them talking sometimes, but they were always hush-hush, like they didn’t want anyone else to hear what they were talking about. Until they started fighting.”

  Tanja leaned forward in her seat. “They would fight?”

  “Yeah, they’ve been getting into a lot of arguments lately.”

  “About what?” I said.

  “I think it was about selling the place. I get the impression that Jacob didn’t want Charlotte to sell. But like I said, they always clammed up the instant they knew somebody was listening. I can’t really say what they were arguing about.”

  That was the end of the conversation. The chef disappeared back into the kitchen and Tanja gazed off into space, her gears whirling. I lifted my gigantic bacon burger in both hands and took a huge bite.

  “What are you doing?”

  I raised my gaze and found her staring at me with a dark frown. “Huh?” I said around a mouthful of grade-A ground sirloin.

  “Joe, didn’t you hear what Paul just said? Do you know what this means?”

  “Mmhmm. Means my burger’s getting cold.”

  She narrowed her eyebrows. “Be serious, Joe. You know what I’m talking about. Charlotte may have had a motive to kill Jacob.”

  I finished my bite and swallowed it down. “Except that we don’t even know if Jacob was killed,” I said.

  She leaned forward on her elbows. “There’s something going on here. Paul said Charlotte and Jacob had been fighting about the sale, and now Jacob is dead.”

  “And you think Charlotte is the killer? Are you serious?”

  She leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her. “I suppose not. She’s not really the killing type. Plus, there was obviously a physical altercation. I doubt Charlotte could have overwhelmed Jacob physically.”

  “Or moved his body,” I said. “If the struggle was in his house, then how did he get to the beach?”

  “Good point.” She sat there a moment, staring at her French dip sandwich. “You know, I sort of feel sorry for her. Charlotte already seems to have more on her plate than she
can deal with. This incident must have her distraught.”

  “Are you kidding? The woman is in a constant state of near-panic. If ever there was an argument for legalized pot, it’s her.”

  “I don’t think that would solve her problem. A significant percentage of marijuana users suffer anxiety and paranoia. Anti-depressants might help, or perhaps a sedative-”

  “Tanja, that was a joke.”

  At that moment, the rain started up again, hammering suddenly and noisily against the window panes, and I realized that the sky had darkened considerably while we were talking. The breakers on the beach were already working up a froth, and judging from the clouds to the south, we were in for a beating.

  We fell silent for a while. Tanja took a few bites of her sandwich, but I could tell she was still distracted. For some reason, she was convinced Jacob had been murdered. She was practically obsessed by it. I should have kept my mouth shut, but for some reason, I said, “What’s on your mind?”

  “I wonder what possible motive someone could have for killing Jacob.”

  “You mean besides the obvious? That he was a total jerk?”

  “There does seem to be a pattern of behavior…”

  “He didn’t get along with Dana very well, either.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

  “They had an argument in the bar last night. Didn’t I tell you?”

  Tanja leaned forward, staring into my face. “Are you kidding? You knew this all along, and didn’t say anything?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because it could be motive, Joe.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal. She told him not to get his own drinks anymore. He paid, and it was over. That was right before the propane explosion. Sounded like a bomb. After that, everybody forgot what they were doing.”

  Tanja’s eyes lit up. “I just totally had an idea.”

  I winced. I purposefully took another big bite of my burger. I made a big show of chewing on it, so she’d know I was done with our conversation. She went on anyway:

  “We have to break into the lighthouse again.”

  I stopped chewing. It was then and there that I decided my wife was truly insane. Either that, or she wanted me to go to prison.

  Chapter 11

  Tanja

  Joe stared at me like I’d just slapped him in the face. He even stopped chewing, which was something of a minor miracle considering the way he had been going at that monstrous burger. I reached over with a napkin, wiping the dribble of ketchup that had found its way into his goatee.

  “It won’t be hard,” I said quietly. “You’ve already picked the lock once. Besides, Charlotte gave us permission to go in there earlier…”

  Joe didn’t answer. He just stared at me. He started chewing again, very slowly. I took that as a good sign.

  “We’ll have to wait until after dark, of course,” I said. “Obviously, we can’t have anybody seeing what we’re up to.”

  “Who are you?” Joe said around his food. He must have swallowed part of it, or he never would have been able to sound out the vowels.

  “What?” I asked, blinking my eyes innocently.

  “My wife -the former Fed who does everything by the book- is asking me to B and E? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

  “You do, Joe, you know me.” I took his hand in mine to prove it. “I’ve just changed, that’s all. Women can do that.”

  Joe leaned back in his chair, staring at me. “What do you think we’re going to find in there? We already searched the place, remember?”

  “We must have missed something. Whoever fought with Jacob must have left another clue.” I leaned forward, staring at him. “The clue to the murderer’s motive is inside the lighthouse. It has to be.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “Two problems: One, this is a waste of time. We’ve already been in there. Two, if Sheriff Hillman finds out about this, he’ll hang me. Hang me…”

  “Then you’ll do it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “All right,” I said, collapsing back into my chair. “I guess we’ll just have to start questioning people. Somebody around here must know who else had a motive-”

  “No.”

  “Should we start with Charlotte, or Dana? Those two seem to know Jacob better than anyone…”

  “No.”

  “…Then again, maybe we should ask the other guests if they’ve seen anything suspicious. Another eyewitness might seal the deal.”

  Joe placed his burger on the plate, apparently having lost his appetite. Another minor miracle. He took a deep breath and blinked very slowly. “Fine,” he said after a moment. “Fine, I’ll do whatever you want. Will you just let me eat?”

  “Of course!” I glanced at my cell phone. Still no bars. “We have hours. What are we going to do all afternoon?”

  “I suppose we could go on vacation,” he grumbled.

  That was a very good point.

  After lunch, we headed down to the basement. The lower level of the inn had a beautiful recreation area with full gym, a cedar sauna, and matching hot tubs. The front of the room was a wall of windows looking out over the ocean. On that particular afternoon, we could only see rain, fog, and crashing waves. It wasn’t exactly romantic, except for the fact that Joe and I got to share some quiet time alone that didn’t involve working on a case or changing diapers. That in itself was refreshing, so long as I kept my homesickness under control.

  We both enjoyed a good workout. I did some cardio while my husband, with his bum hip, lifted weights. We both worked up a good sweat and then went into the sauna to really open up our pores. Between the two of us, we sweated out at least a gallon of water.

  After that, we went back to our suite for a shower and some relaxation. I sat down with a notepad and started making a list of all the suspects in Jacob’s death. I tried to recall everything they had said or done since our arrival. I tried to remember their behavior, their body language and speech patterns, so that I could later tell if they were lying to me.

  Joe helped out by watching a football game. It wasn’t easy, either. The satellite dish was having a heck of a time getting a signal, and I think he spent more time pressing buttons than watching the game. At one point, he asked me what I was working on. I told him, and he went right back to staring at that fuzzy TV screen without saying a word.

  When it was time for dinner, I slipped into one of my evening gowns and Joe dressed up in the nicest clothes he owned: a pair of black slacks with a white button-front shirt, and a tie. He grumbled the entire time.

  “If I’d known I had to dress like a penguin, I never would have come,” he said. He was gazing at himself in the mirror while tying his necktie. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

  “Oh, stop it,” I said. “I never get to see you dressed up. It’s kind of sexy.”

  He raised an eyebrow and paused with one hand on the knot, staring at my face in the mirror. “Oh? You thinking of taking advantage of me? We could skip dinner-”

  “Dream on,” I said, turning him around to face me. I took the knot from him and straightened it a little. “You’re not getting out of this. But if you behave, maybe later…”

  I trailed off, letting his imagination finish the sentence. That was all the motivation Joe needed. He straightened his shirt, threw on a sport coat, and we were off.

  The usual suspects were at dinner that night. I noticed right away that conversation was subdued. I attributed this at first to Jacob’s death, but then I remembered the announcement Charlotte had made the previous night. I realized the other guests may have been worried about a repeat performance. I even tensed up a little when Dana came in with Paul to serve our meals. She didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t help noticing the way she and Charlotte ignored each other.

  I noticed right away that Chef Melville was on his best behavior. He’d even dressed for the occasion, wearing a formal uniform with a black
tuxedo vest and matching bowtie. This meal itself was also notably different from our dinner the previous night. Instead of a buffet, the chef had prepared each meal to the guest’s individual specifications. Once again, he took the time to explain every detail about our food:

  “The wild salmon is caught locally,” Chef Melville explained as he served me. “It’s seasoned with hand-ground lemon pepper, organic butter sourced from a local farm, and organic fresh-pressed garlic grown in our own garden. The filet is grilled to perfection and served on a bed of smoky apple wood, with sautéed organic vegetables, lightly seasoned with a drizzle of zesty lemon cream sauce.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “It sounds wonderful.”

  He reached under the cart and pulled out a bottle of chilled chardonnay. “I highly recommend this crisp, fruit-forward white wine as a paring with your fish. Unless of course you would prefer something else?”

  “That would be fine,” I said. He gave me an approving nod as he began to open the bottle. I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, and lowered my voice:

  “Chef, do you know if Dana had a problem with Jacob?”

  He tilted his head as he uncorked the wine bottle. “Problem? Not that I can think of. Why? You don’t think she had something to do with his accident, do you?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m just trying to understand the relationships all of these people have.” I tasted the wine, and said it was wonderful. Paul filled my glass and moved on to the next person, who happened to be Nancy Lincoln.

  Joe cleared his throat and leaned close, lowering his voice. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t start interrogating these people, remember? We had a deal.”

  “Don’t be silly. We were just talking.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.”

  I turned my head and found Nancy grinning at me from the next table. “The food is to die for, isn’t it?” she said. “It’s one of the reasons we just had to come back here…”