Murder at Pirate's Cove

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Murder at Pirate's Cove Page 12

by Josh Lanyon


  “You’re not completely wrong. You’re sitting on some of the most valuable real estate in Pirate’s Cove. The Crow’s Nest is one of only twenty seafront businesses, and it’s one of the largest spaces. The village is zoned to prevent any additional construction on the section of land facing the harbor, which means anyone who wants seafront property has to buy one of the existing buildings. Yours is the only one that has come even close to being available in the last decade.”

  “I’m not selling,” Ellery said, just as if he hadn’t been telling himself the opposite for most of the evening.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Carson looked instantly self-conscious. He busily shook open the green trash bag he held.

  Ellery felt warmed right through, though he wasn’t exactly sure why. He too glanced around for a distraction, his gaze falling on the dark mouth of the closet. He shuddered inwardly as he thought of what lay just out of sight.

  “What happens next?”

  Carson said, “I confiscate the sword as evidence, and the investigation continues. It would help if you could come up with a list of people who might have access to this house, aside from yourself.”

  “The only person I can think of off the top of my head is Tommy Rider. At one point Great-great-great-aunt Eudora was considering selling Captain’s Seat and the bookshop. I believe Tommy was going to handle the properties.”

  Carson shrugged. “It’s a starting point.”

  Ellery said hesitantly, “Is there any chance you could not share the information that the sword was found here?” The idea of more negative press had his stomach in knots. The looks and whispers had been bad enough. Now that he was getting hate mail… He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

  “If you mean, am I going to reveal this development to the Scuttlebutt Weekly, no. I’m not. But I do have to share this with the rest of my team. Don’t worry. The discovery of the sword will stay strictly within the confines of the PICO PD.”

  “Will it?” Ellery asked. “Because if you’ll remember, someone at PICO PD shared the information with Sue Lewis that the murder weapon was a sword.”

  Carson’s mouth tightened. “Sue Lewis’s daughter was previously employed with the department as part of our Explorer program. She’s since been dismissed.”

  Yowch. Ellery almost felt sorry for that unknown young woman. Carson’s eyes were the frigid blue of an iceberg’s underbelly.

  Carson said, “Given Sue’s patent bias, I plan on doing everything I can to limit information to the press on this case.”

  “Thank you.” Ellery meant it.

  “You’re welcome. In the meantime, I’ve got a long night ahead,” Carson said. “I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.”

  “Sure.” Ellery took the hint and left Carson to deal with the sword.

  He prepared coffee in the kitchen, moving more by instinct than intent as he measured coffee, turned the machine on, found mugs, and checked the half-and-half to be sure it hadn’t spoiled.

  He was so tired, he felt like he was walking through a fog. At the same time, learning Chief Carson believed in his innocence gave him the first glimmer of hope he’d had in what felt like a long time. Maybe there was a chance everything would work out and he would not end his days in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed.

  He was both terrified and relieved that Chief Carson not only believed him, he agreed someone was trying to frame him. That wasn’t exactly cause for celebration, but it would have been even worse to recognize what was happening and be unable to convince anyone of his suspicions.

  Still, even the reassurance that he wasn’t alone in his fears didn’t mean he was out of the woods. No, he was still in danger. Someone was determined to see him go down for Trevor’s murder, and if the plot to frame him failed, would they resort to some other means of destroying him?

  He had to believe they would.

  It was so weird, though. He was a fairly inoffensive person. He didn’t get in arguments with people. He wasn’t pushy or rude. Since moving to Pirate’s Cove, he had largely kept to himself, working on the shop and at Captain’s Seat. He hadn’t made many friends, but he didn’t think he had made any enemies either.

  Yet clearly he had.

  “Coffee ready?” Carson asked from the doorway, and Ellery jumped.

  “Yep! Just another minute or two.” He smiled brightly.

  Carson said almost gently, “You okay?”

  “Sure!”

  Carson’s smile was crooked. “Your agent is right. You’re a terrible actor.”

  “I know. I am.” Ellery shook his head. “I just want all this to go away.”

  “Yeah. Of course. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you we’re close to making an arrest, but we’re not.”

  “You don’t have any idea of who’s behind this? None?”

  “If I did, I’d be questioning them right now.”

  Ellery nodded, turned back to the coffee machine. “How do you take your coffee?” he asked huskily.

  He felt Carson come up behind him, and gave another of those embarrassing nervous leaps when Carson rested a hand on his shoulder.

  Carson gave a funny half laugh and moved away. “Cream and sugar. Thanks.”

  Ellery prepared the coffee, handed the mug to Carson and said, “Sorry. My nerves are shot.”

  “It’s a stressful situation.”

  At that point they both seemed to run out of conversation. Carson drank his coffee. Ellery threw his down the sink because if he had any more caffeine, he might not sleep until next month.

  At last Carson put his empty cup in the sink—somebody’s well-trained husband, for sure—and said, “Difficult as this may be, try and get some sleep tonight. Getting sick isn’t going to help you or your situation.”

  No lie. Ellery nodded.

  “And go easy on the wine.”

  “Ouch.” Ellery reddened.

  “Hey, I’m not judging. I had a couple of beers when I got home tonight. But you need to stay alert, stay on guard.”

  “Yes.” It sounded exhausting—and frightening.

  In silence, Ellery followed Carson down the hall to the front door.

  Carson said, “One other thing. You need to get these locks changed as soon as possible.”

  “I know. I got a quote from the security company. I just didn’t want to incur that expense if I didn’t have to.”

  “Turns out, you have to.”

  “Yes.”

  Carson turned and walked down the steps. Ellery noticed he wasn’t carrying the sword. He must have put it in his vehicle and then come back for his coffee.

  Why that should cheer him up, he didn’t know, but it did.

  He watched from the doorway as Carson got into his vehicle, turned on the engine. The headlights flashed on, illuminating the beds of dead flowers in the front garden. Carson reversed in a driving-manual-perfect arc and drove away down the road.

  Ellery watched until the red taillights disappeared. He closed the door, locked it, double-checked the locks, and went upstairs to bed.

  Brushing his teeth in the drafty master bedroom, he considered the very large bed, its size serving to stress how empty it was. Legend had it, Captain Horatio Page had died—at the ripe old age of 102—alone in that bed.

  Hopefully the mattress had been changed once or twice in the interim.

  Tomorrow he would go to Vincent Veterinary Hospital and see about retrieving his little orphan buddy. It would be nice to have some company in this house.

  In the meantime…

  Ellery finished brushing his teeth, turned off the lights, and climbed into the boat-sized bed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  He did not sleep well.

  Every time a beam creaked, a tree branch scratched against the window, or the wind whispered down the chimney, Ellery’s eyes popped open, and he’d spend the next four or five minutes listening for stealthy, approaching footsteps.

  The footsteps did not come, but memories did.

>   On the whole, murderous intruders might have been preferable.

  Twenty minutes after Ellery finally fell asleep, his alarm clock went off.

  Nor did the day improve once he reached the village.

  The receptionist at Vincent Veterinary Hospital delivered the bad news that the puppy had been adopted.

  “Already?” Ellery protested.

  She looked apologetic. “The Harmons lost their family dog yesterday, and the kids were desperate for a new puppy. The little guy will be well cared for, well loved, don’t you worry.”

  “Sure,” Ellery said. “That’s great news.”

  And really, it was great news. The puppy had gone to a good home, where he’d get lots of attention and wasn’t liable to be a civilian casualty of the war on Ellery. True, Ellery felt a little heartbroken, but he wasn’t ten years old, was he? The world was full of puppies needing a good home if he really wanted a dog.

  When Nora arrived at the Crow’s Nest, she was almost bubbling with news.

  “You’ve been replaced on the front page of the Scuttlebutt, dearie,” she informed Ellery.

  “Is that true?” He felt a wave of relief. “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Cyrus Jones has moved up in the polls. He’s now leading the race for mayor.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Ellery didn’t really have strong feelings either way about who should be mayor, but the citizens of Pirate’s Cove did seem to take the race seriously.

  Nora wasn’t done. “And Trevor Maples left everything to his twin brother!”

  Ellery opened his mouth, remembered he wasn’t supposed to know anything about Trevor’s will, and said instead, “Was that unexpected?”

  “As a time bomb,” Nora gloated. “Janet Maples expected everything to go to her. She’s insisting the will has to be a forgery. The paper ran a special-edition interview with her.”

  Janet must have believed she had removed the only copy of the will when she broke into Trevor’s house. It seemed that Chief Carson had not challenged her regarding the missing document. What a shock when Trevor’s brother showed up with his own copy. Maybe that was what the chief had been waiting for: Janet’s reaction.

  One thing could not be overlooked. Janet’s belief that she was going to inherit all of Trevor’s worldly possessions gave her a strong motive for murder.

  “Why would she think Trevor was leaving everything to her? Didn’t they have a really contentious divorce?”

  “Yep.” Nora looked thoughtful. “I’m wondering if they had some arrangement, though. It’s no secret Trevor always wanted to get his hands on Old Salt Stationery. Maybe Janet agreed to leave everything to Trevor if Trevor agreed to leave everything to her. It would be just like Trevor to double-cross her.”

  “I heard from someone that the only person Trevor ever cared about was his brother.”

  Actually, he’d heard that from Janet.

  Nora said, “I don’t know. I never met the brother.”

  “I met him last night. Didn’t they grow up in Pirate’s Cove?”

  Nora stared at Ellery in astonishment. “You met him last night?”

  Ellery nodded. “He came by as I was closing up. He wanted to see where…it happened.”

  Nora shivered. “That’s a little morbid, if you ask me.”

  Ellery shrugged. People grieved in different ways, but everybody needed closure.

  “But no,” Nora said suddenly. “The Maples didn’t grow up here. Trevor moved to Pirate’s Cove when he married Janet. Janet grew up here.”

  “I see.”

  “Of course, you’d think Trevor had grown up here, the way he acted. Like he owned the whole village. I guess he was trying his best to do that very thing. I wonder if the brother will sell off all his holdings. Did he give you any idea last night?”

  “No. I only spoke to him for a couple of minutes. He did mention they’re not twins. He’s a few years older than Trevor.”

  Nora looked thoughtful. “When you think about it, there’s someone with a motive for murder. Twin or not twin. Trevor was a rich man.”

  Ellery smiled, but yes, he had been thinking the same thing.

  Whether it was because Pirate’s Cove had a new favorite main suspect in the Maples murder or some other reason, business picked up again that morning. It was a promising sign, but Ellery couldn’t help fearing that it was too little, too late.

  “We have to find a way to lure more people into the store,” Nora said when they finally broke for a late lunch. Ellery had bought sandwiches, tea, and cupcakes from the little café down the street to celebrate Nora’s employment, and Nora had gotten teary-eyed over this small attention.

  “That sounds a little sinister,” Ellery teased.

  “I’m serious. I was thinking about this last night. We should start a mystery group.”

  “What kind of mystery group?” With everything going on, maybe it wasn’t surprising his first thought was Nora meant some kind of amateur sleuthing club (he’d spent a lot of time reshelving titles in the cozy-mystery section that morning).

  “We could try a two-pronged approach,” Nora mused. “Start one group for writers and one group for readers. If we could turn the Crow’s Nest into a social center, we’d get more traffic, and if we get more traffic, we’ll get more business. It’s simply the law of averages.”

  “I’m all for that,” Ellery said. “But how would it work? Do you think there are that many mystery readers in Pirate’s Cove?”

  “Not yet. There will be.”

  “Why will there be?”

  Nora’s eyes sparkled. “Haven’t you noticed how little there is to do in the village? There’s the Salty Dog and the theater. That’s about it. Oh, and the Women’s Club. People here are dying for entertainment. If we start a reading group, we’ll get members. I guarantee it.”

  Ellery studied her. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. Her enthusiasm was contagious.

  “Not only that, we’ve got more room than the Toy Chest. Maybe we could do something in conjunction with Mr. Carter. Maybe the Monday Night Scrabblers could meet here instead of next door.”

  “I guess I could ask.”

  “Yes! What do we have to lose?” Nora said.

  Once again, Ellery reflected that hiring Nora was probably the best move he could have made for the health and welfare of the Crow’s Nest. He said slowly, “I like that idea, but all my free time is taken up with remodeling Captain’s Seat. Would you be up for running these new groups?”

  Nora looked astonished and then delighted. “Yes!”

  “All right, then. You’ve convinced me. Let’s give it a try.” Ellery hid his smile in his cup of tea.

  Late afternoon, they received a surprise visit.

  Ellery was in his office, browsing the Advanced Book Exchange website to try to figure out how to price some of the vintage paperbacks Great-great-great-aunt Eudora had been stockpiling in the cellar, when Nora poked her head in his office.

  “He’s here!” she hissed.

  “Who’s here?”

  “Him. Logan Maples. He wants to talk to you.”

  Ellery stopped smiling. His good mood deflated. This could not be good.

  “Show him back here,” he said. If Logan was going to start shouting at him, it would be better behind closed doors.

  A moment later Nora ushered Logan into Ellery’s office.

  Now that Ellery could see Logan in the light of day, the resemblance between him and Trevor really was remarkable, but they weren’t identical. Nor were the differences all physical. Logan did not share his brother’s taste for ostentatious jewelry or flashy clothes. His hair was cut in a short, no-nonsense style. He wore thick horn-rim glasses. He looked older and more severe than Trevor; however, his smile was wide and seemed surprisingly genuine.

  Trevor had always smiled like he knew something you didn’t.

  “Thank you for seeing me,” Logan said.

  “Of course,” Ellery replied, as if he had never considered tryi
ng to wriggle out through the tiny bathroom window.

  “I feel like I may owe you an apology. I’ve been speaking to Police Chief Carson. He told me that the editor of the local paper has a vendetta against the police department, and you’ve been caught in the crossfire. He said you’re no longer considered a suspect in my brother’s death.”

  This was news to Ellery. “He said that?”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “I’m not surprised I’m no longer a suspect. I’m surprised the chief came right out and admitted it.” That wasn’t completely true, of course. Even after the previous evening, Ellery was surprised that Carson considered him completely cleared of suspicion. Carson did not seem like the trusting type.

  “I got the impression he’s very unhappy with the local paper.”

  “He’s not the only one.”

  Logan said, “I can’t entirely fault the paper. It’s upsetting the police haven’t made an arrest yet. But I’ve no wish to see the wrong person punished. And it seems you’ve come in for an unfair share of abuse.”

  What would be a fair share of abuse? But, obviously, Ellery didn’t say that.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your saying so. I know this has to be awful for you.”

  “You can’t imagine.”

  “Were you and Trevor close?” Ellery asked.

  “Yes. We didn’t see each other as much as we would have liked, especially in recent years. He was always trying to convince me to buy a vacation home on the island. I travel a lot for my work, so it didn’t seem practical.”

  “What is it you do?” Ellery asked.

  “I’m Director of Sales for Aegis Futures. We’re a national leader in assisted living and memory care with high-performing communities all across the United States.”

  “Wow,” Ellery said, having only the vaguest idea of what that meant.

  “Ironically, I had just made the decision to take early retirement before this happened. Trevor was scouting potential vacation properties for me.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “The best-laid plans, as they say.” For a moment Logan stared into some bleak and unknown vista.

 

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