Caught Dead Handed

by Lyndsey Cole

  “Except that he had the perfect person to take the fall,” Ruby pointed out. “You. He could get rid of Monique and you at the same time.”

  “There’s more.” Juliette scrunched up her mouth. “Vanessa, Monique’s friend, said she saw me enter the pool area after Monique had disappeared. Of course, she didn’t think to look near the pool since Monique was afraid of water, she told Colin.”

  “What were you doing in the pool area?” Hannah asked. “Samantha and I saw you come out and you looked to be in a hurry.” Hannah left out the part about Juliette looking distracted and panicked.

  “I was in a hurry. I lost track of the time when I was in the exercise room and the shortest route to the room Harold set up for his photoshoot was through the pool area. I knew I was late getting Maisy there and I didn’t want to upset Harold any more than possible.”

  Hannah didn’t miss Juliette’s fingers as they shredded a napkin to confetti. Her nerves were definitely on edge but was it because she knew she was in a difficult situation from being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or because she had something to hide?

  “Oh, Juliette, try not to worry. The truth will come out.” Ruby tried to calm her friend but everyone in the room, except possibly Olivia, knew it was hopeless advice.

  “Can you tell us anything about Gwen? Is she a suspect, too?” Hannah asked.

  Juliette rolled her eyes. “Well, Colin tried hard to downplay that possibility. It was painfully obvious that he’s head-over-heels gaga over her. But he did let one important tidbit slip.” She leaned forward from her spot on the couch and actually acted like this could be important. “He was so excited that he got the chance to ask her to have a coffee with him. Guess where he accidentally bumped into her?”

  “Where?” Ruby whispered.

  “Gwen sashayed through the door from the pool with a towel wrapped around her itty bitty bikini.” Juliette looked from one face to another. “That sure got Colin’s attention. And he knows it was during the time Monique was missing because it was almost his break time.”

  “Listen, Juliette. You should stay here with me until this settles down. I have space, and Olivia is already attached to Maisy.” Ruby stood. “I’ll fix up the guest room.”

  “I couldn’t,” Juliette said.

  “You can and you will. I won’t take no for an answer. Come on and I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”

  “Before you go upstairs,” Hannah interrupted, “I’m curious about Colin.”

  Both Ruby and Juliette spun around.

  “He dumped a lot of information on you. Why? Is he trying to protect someone, or even himself? Ruby, is there a reason why Colin might have pushed Monique into the pool? He had to have been in the area to know all the facts about other people.”

  “Huh.” Ruby nodded her head. “I never considered him but I suppose it’s possible. If he’s infatuated with Gwen, like Juliette said, he might think that if he got rid of Monique, Gwen would be the top model. And maybe she’d want to reward him for helping her.”

  “And what about your job, Ruby? You told me you suspected that he was after your position. If something horrible like this happened on your watch, it would help Colin, right?”

  Ruby covered her mouth with her hand. “You’re right, but it seems too extreme.”

  “At any rate, be careful what you tell him. And keep your ears open when you go back to work. Any little detail could be a link to putting the puzzle together.”

  Hannah suspected that whoever pushed Monique into the pool had an extremely twisted motive.

  Chapter 9

  Hannah returned to her office, located in the front half of Cottage One, or, more recently christened, Run on Inn. Cal had carved the new name on a piece of driftwood which hung next to the door.

  “It’s about time you got back here,” Samantha scolded. “Ever since I moved into the other half of this cottage and offered to help out, it doesn’t mean I want to be cooped up in the office missing all the excitement. What’s going on?”

  “Juliette is back at Ruby’s house and will be staying there for a while. Other than that, there’s nothing new.” Hannah sat in the chair facing her Great Aunt Caroline’s big old oak desk.

  Samantha smiled as her fingers beat a rhythm on the desk. “Aren’t you going to ask if there are any new guests?” She raised one eyebrow, giving Hannah a lopsided challenge.

  “You’d better not take up poker since I can see all over your face that you have something you’re bursting to tell me. Let me guess. Someone involved with the murder is staying here?”

  “Well…” Both of Samantha’s hands slapped on the desk. “We had a last-minute cancellation and guess who called looking for an accommodation?”

  Hannah crunched up her mouth. “Who?”

  “Monique’s friend. Remember Vanessa? She said she couldn’t spend one more minute at the Paradise Inn with all the bad memories, but she’s not allowed to leave town.”

  “Is she a suspect?” Hannah was shocked at the thought of Monique’s friend being involved in the murder other than feeling guilty for not being with Monique to protect her.

  “I suppose it’s a formality since everyone involved with the photoshoot has to be a potential suspect until alibis are verified. Pam told her to stay and she’s not happy about it, but,” Samantha’s eyes gleamed, “with her here, right under our noses, we’ll be able to keep an eye on her and question her for more backstory on all the players.”

  This comment gave Hannah pause. She was slightly nervous at Samantha’s obvious excitement about the prospect of getting involved with some sleuthing. She would have to keep her eyes on Samantha to make sure she didn’t get herself into any trouble. Before Friday night, Hannah’s weekend had held such promise of being nice and quiet but, instead, it had turned into drama and chaos at every corner.

  “Did you hear me, Hannah?”

  Samantha had her hand on the door, ready to leave the office.

  “I’m going to get Cottage Four ready for her. Oh, yea, it’s called Something’s Fishy now. What an appropriate name. Her huge grin confirmed Hannah’s fears.

  “Wait a minute, Samantha.” Hannah stood and stopped the door from swinging closed. “What exactly do you plan to do? Pam won’t like it if you start poking around and asking her suspects a lot of questions.”

  “Hannah, my dear, Officer Pam Larson can’t stop me from having a friendly conversation. I suspect that poor Vanessa will be needing a shoulder to cry on, and who better than little old grandmotherly Samantha Featherstone to the rescue? I’ll bet my grannie panties that Vanessa has a few theories about who had it in for her friend.” Samantha winked.

  Hannah couldn’t argue with that observation and, in the long run, as long as the murder got solved, did it really matter where the information came from? A quiet knock on the door brought Hannah’s attention back to the moment.

  Vanessa stumbled through the door on her high heel sandals, weighted down with two over-stuffed, somewhat shabby, canvas bags. She dropped the bags with a thud and let herself sink into the chair next to the door. “Is this Holiday Hideaway? I called earlier.”

  “You’re in the right place.” Hannah touched Vanessa’s shoulder, recognizing her from yesterday. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

  Vanessa looked up at Hannah, her blotchy face showing through a lousy makeup cover attempt. “Oh, aren’t you the one who found…who pulled…” Her words faded away as her hands covered her face.

  “Yes. I’m Hannah Holiday, the owner of the cottages. We’re getting your cottage ready so, if you want, you can wait in here or go to the snack bar for coffee. You might find it restful to sit at one of the tables and look at the ocean view.”

  “Okay.” Vanessa’s voice registered barely above a whisper. “Can I leave my bags in here? They’re kind of heavy to drag back and forth.”

  “Sure. Come on, I’ll walk you over.”

  As Vanessa’s heels sank in the sand, Hannah held her
elbow to help her keep her balance. Why anyone would wear such uncomfortable and impractical footwear was beyond her imagination. She loved her flip-flops and wouldn’t trade them for anything. Except bare feet whenever possible.

  “I can’t even believe this all isn’t some sort of nightmare,” Vanessa said. “I let Monique out of my sight for a minute and this terrible, terrible…” She shook her head. “She always was the type to make the wrong choices but I never thought something like this would happen.” She stopped suddenly and looked into Hannah’s eyes. “Will that policewoman find the killer? Someone needs to pay for this.”

  Hannah was a bit taken aback at the hostility in Vanessa’s voice. “Officer Pam Larson is very thorough. She’ll get to the bottom of whatever happened.” Hannah wanted to reassure Vanessa even though Pam sometimes followed the wrong trail.

  “I told her that Gwen was trouble from the moment I met her. All she cared about was taking as many breaks as possible and flirting with Harold. She had her eye on him and tried to undermine Monique at every turn.” Vanessa swiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

  Hannah tapped Vanessa’s arm to get her moving again. It didn’t work.

  “You know what I think?” Vanessa asked, her eyes square on Hannah’s again.

  Hannah shook her head.

  “I think Gwen followed Monique and pushed her in the pool. She knew Monique couldn’t swim.”

  Samantha pushed in between Hannah and Vanessa. “Vanessa Parkes? I talked to you on the phone. Your cottage is ready.”

  “I was just taking Vanessa to The Fishy Dish for some coffee. How about you join us?” Hannah glared at Samantha. For someone who thought of herself as a private investigator, she certainly needed to work on her timing.

  “I can do that.” Samantha took Vanessa’s arm. “I heard the phone ringing as I rushed by the office. Maybe you’d better see what that was about.” Samantha flicked her head back toward the office.

  What the heck, Hannah thought as Samantha led Vanessa toward The Fishy Dish. What was she trying to prove? Did she think Vanessa would be her big chance to finally find the clues to solve a murder? Samantha was going to be a bigger problem for Hannah than she originally expected if she jumped into her sleuthing persona with both feet and no thought.

  Hannah watched as Samantha wrapped her arm through Vanessa’s and helped her through the sand to one of the picnic tables. Samantha was busy yacking to Vanessa but the words were blown away in the wind.

  Maybe Samantha knew what she was doing. That was what Hannah hoped, anyway.

  She dashed into her office to try to catch the ringing phone. “Holiday Hideaway. How can I help you?”

  “This is Harold Chandler the Third. I came to your snack bar for lunch the other day. I’m sure you remember who I am. I need a cottage for a few days.”

  No hello. No please. This guy expected to get exactly what he wanted. It was an interesting dilemma, Hannah thought. Two of the main suspects staying right under her nose.

  “Well—”

  “For myself and another cottage for my friend,” he added.

  His friend? Could that be for Gwen? That would bring all the suspects to her doorstep and Juliette just down the road. “Well, Mr. Chandler—”

  “The Third,” he interrupted.

  “Yes, well, I will have one cottage available at three this afternoon, but unfortunately, the others are all booked.”

  “That will have to do. The police won’t let me use the wing I reserved at the Paradise Inn and I can’t stand where I’ve been moved to. No privacy.” Hannah heard a long sigh through the phone. “I’m hoping to get some beach shots at least, so this weekend isn’t a total waste of my time.”

  “The beach is right out the cottage door.”

  “Oh, and is that lady with the pig around? I’d love to do some more photos of that pair. And Maisy if Juliette ever shows up. She’s got some explaining to do. Especially to the police.” A chuckle hit Hannah’s ear.

  Hannah was surprised that Harold was venting to her as if they had some kind of actual history together after only meeting twice. “The room will be ready for you at three, Mr. Chandler.” Hannah heard the phone click. Maybe he didn’t like it that she forgot to add the Third after his name. She didn’t forget, she refused to feed his ego.

  Hannah headed to The Fishy Dish to see if she had any fires to put out in the kitchen. Meg easily got her nose bent out of shape if Hannah got distracted taking care of other business. She bumped into Samantha carrying a tray with coffee and one of Meg’s delicious new pastry creations out of the snack bar. “Is Vanessa settled into her cottage yet?”

  “She decided to have coffee and something to eat first. The poor woman doesn’t know if she’s coming or going and you wouldn’t believe all the stories pouring out, one after the other. She can’t get them out fast enough.”

  “Oh? About Monique?”

  “Monique, Harold, Gwen, you name it. Between chaperoning her friend at these photoshoots and making sure no one took advantage of Monique, to having nothing to do now, I don’t know, Hannah. I think she might have a nervous breakdown.”

  “She’s probably in shock.”

  “Definitely.” Samantha moved away from Hannah. “And there’s some serious anger ready to lash out at whoever did this to Monique. I’ll get this to her and help serve the other customers.”

  “Keep an eye on Vanessa. We’ve got two new guests arriving this afternoon.”

  Samantha stopped and turned back to face Hannah.

  “Harold Chandler and Gwen.” Hannah raised her eyebrows.

  Samantha’s eyes widened and the corners of her lips twitched up. “This is getting more and more curious, don’t you think?”

  “Uh-huh. All I need is for Pam to show up and accuse me of harboring a killer.”

  “Ha! You might be, but if we put our heads together, maybe we can flush him out for her.”

  “Him?” Hannah asked.

  “Or her.” Samantha had a light step and side-to-side sway as she brought the coffee and pastry to Vanessa’s table.

  Chapter 10

  Hannah heard whistling when she finally entered the kitchen. Meg couldn’t follow a tune if her life depended on it, but if she was whistling, it meant she was in a good mood.

  “The couple staying in Cottage Three that’s leaving today?” Meg said to Hannah as she entered the kitchen. “They loved my raspberry coffee cake. Couldn’t stop singing its praises. As a matter of fact, after the complimentary piece with their coffee, they bought the rest to bring home, plus some scones and muffins.”

  “Offering a free sample is the best advertising.” Hannah lifted the cover on the tray of pastries. “Everything is gone?”

  “The last one went out with Samantha for that needy blonde. I’ll make a double batch for tomorrow.” Meg leaned on the counter with her wooden spoon tapping a rhythm on the edge of her mixing bowl. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  This wasn’t the self-sufficient, never needed anyone else’s help Meg that Hannah met when she first moved to Hooks Harbor. Something smelled fishy about the request. “What kind of favor?”

  Meg’s lower lip puffed out. “After all I’ve done for you, you are questioning my need? This is hard enough, me asking for help, without you giving me that look like you just bit into a slice of lemon.”

  Hannah held up her hands to ward off Meg’s rant. “I’ll help, no worries, but can’t you give me a hint about what I’m agreeing to?”

  Meg rubbed her jaw. “My twin brother, Michael?”

  Hannah nodded. Michael owned the Pub and Pool Hall, a hangout for the locals and any out-of-towners that managed to wander down the pothole-filled dirt road that ended at his establishment. He did serve excellent pizza and a wide variety of beer which more than made up for the lack of a cozy ambiance. Or any ambiance for that matter.

  “He bought a cottage and wants your opinion on redecorating. You know, since you did such a great job with the cottages. He want
s a casual but cozy feel. Will you help?”

  “Of course.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up around four.” Meg pointed her wooden spoon at Hannah. “And no faces or comments about my truck. It hasn’t let me down yet.”

  “Yet being the key word. How about I drive this time?” Hannah hated Meg’s rust bucket with springs poking through the seats and more squeaks and rattles than in a bucket of noisy dog toys.

  “No. I’ll pick you up. I’ve got a couple of things to bring to the new place.” Meg returned her attention to her chowder and her whistling letting Hannah know that the conversation was over. If she was lucky, the cottage wasn’t too far away and the torture of riding in Meg’s truck would be short.

  Hannah pushed through the kitchen door to help a group of lunch customers. Everyone wanted the fried fish platter and they’d be outside at one of the tables.

  The rush was on.

  Hannah gave the order to Meg and was relieved to see Samantha arriving to help with the lunch crowd. “Is Vanessa checked into her room?”

  “Yes. She said she’s going to take a nap so I don’t think we’ll see her for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “Good. That will put off any potential confrontation with Harold and Gwen when they arrive. It seems I’ll be spending all my time trying to avoid being in the middle of several dysfunctional relationships.” The very last place she wanted to be at any time.

  “Don’t turn around now,” Samantha said as she looked over Hannah’s shoulder. “Harold and Gwen just got out of his car. The photography business must be doing well for him if that fancy bright red Alpha Romeo is an indication of his income.”

  “Or debt,” Hannah said as she tried to reposition herself to get a glimpse of what was heading her way. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harold standing next to the driver’s door, swiveling his head in all directions. “Is he hoping for a valet service here?”

  “I’ll offer to help with his bags. That should make him feel about this high.” Samantha put her thumb and forefinger about a quarter inch apart. “He’s got almost half a foot on me and at least seventy pounds. Do you think he’ll actually let me carry his bags?”