Sunset in Old Savannah

by Mary Ellis

  “Good benefits aren’t everything. I like the job description. Mr. Price sounds very nice. And I know I’ll like working with you two.” Kaitlyn hoped her last declaration didn’t sound juvenile.

  “Likewise,” said Beth, mitigating her discomfort.

  “We can sure use you in Savannah,” said Michael. “Thanks to client referrals, new cases keep piling up. Right now they are small. Nothing you can’t handle alone when Beth and I return to Natchez.” He looked her in the eye.

  “Oh, I understand I’ll be working by myself here. That suits me fine since I’m a loner by nature. That’s also why I’m happy to leave the commission. Too many energy-draining days spent inside the office. I’m not much for gossip or office politics. And I have little…personal life to share with the other women.”

  “In that case, you’ll like Price Investigations,” said Beth. “We only have one gossip, Maxine, but she has a heart of gold.”

  “Every so often you’ll be asked to come to Natchez for a company meeting or Christmas party.” Michael resumed the narrative. “We have another agent who works in New Orleans—Nicki Galen—who happens to be Nate’s cousin.”

  “Offices in three states? This company is on the move.” Kaitlyn smiled.

  “That we are,” said Beth. “But if Nate lands a major case here, Michael or I or both of us will come back to help you. Flexibility is the key to a small agency like ours, and it’s a requirement for the newest hire.” Beth paused for the point to be made. “Nate and his wife are expecting their first child. Nicki and her husband are new parents. Neither partner wants to travel much. Michael and I will usually be manning the home office. That means you would be the investigator who would travel from place to place…wherever out-of-town work is.”

  “I understand completely.” Kaitlyn gazed from one to the other. “This is exactly what I’m looking for. I’ll remain in Savannah for as long as necessary. But if the work dries up, I’ll go wherever I’m needed. I have a valid passport, all my possessions fit into the trunk of my car, and I didn’t replace my dog after she died at the ripe old age of thirteen.”

  Beth folded her hands on top of the notes. “I know I said Maxine was the nosy one, but I must ask. Do you have a husband, serious boyfriend, or children who might impede your flexibility?”

  Kaitlyn’s back stiffened. With the job of her dreams at stake, she had to phrase her answer carefully. “I have no kids and no romantic relationship that will interfere with my career again.” She slowly released the breath she’d been holding.

  Beth let two or three moments spin out before she spoke. “Well, with that out of the way, welcome aboard. Michael will explain your first case.”

  “To get your feet wet, you’ll be working undercover.” A smile spread across his tanned face. “What do you know about sushi, sashimi, and upscale Japanese and vegetarian cuisine?”

  “Not much, other than I love hummus with veggies and pita.”

  “Same here, but a restaurateur in the business district needs someone to spy on his employees. He does a lucrative lunch trade, mostly takeout and delivery with a few sidewalk tables. He and his wife leave around four o’clock, but the deli stays open until eight. The amount of food disappearing doesn’t jibe with the amount of sales. We’re not talking the price of bagels and cream cheese. This is gourmet-quality imported eel, squid, bluefin tuna, and yellowtail amberjack, besides local red snapper, scallops, and mackerel.”

  “I’m curious why he doesn’t install a camera to tape what goes on. I don’t want to cut our throat, but wouldn’t that be cheaper than hiring a PI?”

  Michael nodded. “I asked the same thing. The people working for Mr. Tanaka are family members and children of close friends. If he installs a closed-circuit monitor, his kids would be highly offended. He wants to find out what’s going on without ruffling anyone’s feathers.”

  Kaitlyn finished the last of her iced tea. “Sounds interesting. What’s the plan?”

  “The deli is closed on Sundays and Monday evening. Mrs. Tanaka will meet you tonight to train you in making sushi rolls, one of their specialties. She will then tell her kids that her hands are bothering her, so she hired someone to make rolls for a week or two.”

  “My chef skills don’t extend past mac-and-cheese and burgers on the grill.”

  “Not a problem. As long as the smell of raw fish doesn’t bother you—and you’re willing to wear a hairnet, which she will provide—Mrs. Tanaka will teach you everything you need to know.”

  “My father used to take my brother and me fishing. He taught me to clean and debone the fish. I’ll be fine.”

  Beth consulted her notes. “This assignment should last five or six days. If you can gain the trust of those working your shift, they might resume whatever activity is costing the Tanakas an extra grand per month.”

  “A thousand dollars a month in lost food?” Kaitlyn sputtered.

  “Like I said, this is exotic cuisine purchased by professional stockbrokers, bankers, and dot-com entrepreneurs with plenty of disposable income.”

  “And to think I just ate turkey on whole wheat.”

  “Me? I prefer an Italian sub on multigrain,” said Beth. “Under no circumstances are you to confront the misbehaving workers. You will report to Mr. Tanaka privately, and he will handle the matter however he sees fit. Any questions?”

  Kaitlyn could only think of one. “May I call you tonight, Beth, after my first sushi-making session?”

  “That’s a great idea. Let’s touch base every night this week when you finish work. Questions might come up on the job that would come under standard policy.”

  “Standard policy?” asked Michael, his serious demeanor slipping a notch. “Is there a company handbook I was never given?”

  Beth elbowed him in the ribs. “We weren’t sure you would last this long. I’ll have Maxine put two of them in the mail.”

  Kaitlyn opened her mouth to ask a question, but she clamped it shut just as quickly. She would figure out the exact nature of their relationship later. For now, the case they gave her sounded like fun, and she always wanted to learn to cook something fancy. She was also thrilled to work with interesting people her own age. And most of all, she was grateful she wouldn’t have to return to Florida.

  Who knows what the future will hold? Kaitlyn didn’t like starting a new career under a veil of deception. Eventually, if they hired her as a permanent member of the team, she would tell them every last secret. But for now she shook hands, thanked them from the bottom of her heart, and headed toward Tanaka’s Culinary Creations with a surprising amount of energy. Considering she had two jobs this week, Kaitlyn would sleep better each night than she had in ages.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I thought that went well,” Michael said as he and Beth watched Kaitlyn leave for her first assignment as a Price Investigations employee.

  “I agree, but why wouldn’t you let me have soup and a salad? I love the food here.” Beth hooked her purse over her shoulder.

  “Me too, but I have plans for us for dinner.” Michael pointed her in the direction of the door.

  “Don’t tell me more free snacks at the hotel. What’s the Monday night special? We’ll run that place out of business if we’re not careful.”

  “Nope. We shall dine under the stars with the sound of waves to serenade us. We’re on our way to Tybee Island.”

  Beth halted in the center of the sidewalk, causing several passersby to divert around her. “Did you accept an invitation from Mrs. Doyle? Talk about wearing out our welcome. I just had lunch with her and Charlotte—”

  Michael pulled her from the flow of pedestrians. “We are not going to Mrs. Doyle’s. On such an auspicious occasion, we’re going to eat at Marlin Monroe’s Surfside Grill. According to the tour books, it’s the only restaurant right on the beach, but we still haven’t tried it.” He headed toward his car, hoping Beth would follow.

  She didn’t disappoint. “What occasion, Preston? This is just another run-of
the-mill Monday.”

  Michael waited to reply until she was inside the vehicle with her seat belt fastened. “Not according to our home office. Maxine informed me that today is your birthday. She said if I ordered flowers, she would give me ten bucks when we got back. Now that I have twenty, maybe I can find a florist called Day-Old Roses or Peonies for Pennies.”

  Beth smiled. “You two are the last of the big-time spenders. But Maxine should have kept my personal information personal. That woman breaks a different workplace law every month.”

  “Maybe you’re jealous because she has a crush on me.”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “I happen to know Maxine adores her husband. And that man is bigger than a woolly mammoth, so you’d better watch your step.”

  Michael reached for her hand. “Relax. I already told Maxine I’m off-limits.” He kissed the back of her fingers.

  “While we were still in Natchez? That would’ve been a little premature.”

  “A man needs to be optimistic.”

  Extracting her hand from his, Beth watched the passing scenery—a view she’d seen many times now. “I don’t know why people make such a fuss over birthdays. Everyone has one each year. It’s just another day. Whenever I go to Applebee’s, it’s always somebody’s birthday. Complete strangers are supposed to join in the singing. You’d better not pull that on me.”

  “Tell me why you don’t like birthdays. It’s certainly not because you’re old—Maxine said you turned twenty-eight today. Did Stan and Rita forget your big day one year, scarring you forever?”

  “Hardly. Mom and Dad always made the usual fuss. But something during Lamar Doyle’s funeral made me realize how unpredictable life is. Unpredictable and frighteningly brief.” Beth glanced in his direction. “Those two had a good marriage. Yes, Lamar made a mistake, but he wanted to make amends. Then somebody killed him before he had a chance to straighten things out, probably for no good reason. And if I don’t figure out who, Evelyn will go to prison for a crime she didn’t commit.”

  “That’s why you and I will stay until we get to the bottom of this.” Michael braked to a sudden stop as traffic slowed. “But for the rest of tonight, you’re going to relax and enjoy your special day. Your biggest concern will be which dressing to put on your salad.”

  “Is that even possible for me?” Beth cocked an eyebrow.

  “I will make sure of it. Find us a radio station with oldies. Maybe if we sing loudly and badly, we’ll get in a carefree mood.”

  Beth followed his instructions, but the first two tunes about cheating paramours failed to do the trick. When the third song turned out to be Jackie Wilson, his half-baked idea actually took hold. “ ‘Higher and Higher’ was my parents’ favorite song when they were dating,” she exclaimed and turned up the volume to full blast.

  “Hey, I even know the words to this one.” Michael joined in, adding his best harmony to the chorus.

  “You should see those two when that song comes on the radio. Even after all these years, they dance around the kitchen like teenagers.” Beth shook her head.

  “It brings back fond memories of their youth.”

  “Or indicates early-onset dementia.”

  “That’s not funny, Beth.” Michael turned into the parking garage for Marlin Monroe’s Surfside Grill.

  “No, I suppose not, considering how prevalent that disease is. I always make stupid jokes when I’m nervous. Hey, you want your jacket? It might cool off later.”

  Before he could answer, she grabbed his jacket off the backseat and exposed the wrapped gift underneath. “Don’t tell me you bought me a present! Ten bucks’ worth of flowers would’ve been more than enough.” She began to shake the box.

  Michael pulled it from her grasp and tossed it in the back. “We’ll leave the present for now because I haven’t made up my mind who to give it to.” He climbed from the car.

  Beth’s expression turned smug. “I think I know who it’ll be.”

  “Time will tell.” Michael slipped his arm around her waist as they took the steps to the pool area between the resort and the restaurant.

  For the second time, Beth shrugged from his touch. “Why don’t you put our name in for a table?” Then she headed toward the beach instead of Marlin’s main entrance.

  “What are those?” she asked when Michael caught up to her. She pointed at several birds flying low over the water.

  He shielded his eyes for a better view. “Pelicans, fishing for their supper. Dinner for us hopefully won’t be as much work.”

  Beth stood by the rail for several minutes, watching the seabirds.

  “Are you ready to go in?” He glanced at his watch. “Our table should be ready.”

  But Beth remained stationary with arms crossed. “I hope this place isn’t too fancy.” With a small sigh, she headed slowly toward the building.

  “Trust me, it’s not.” Michael opened the back door and waved her through.

  As though headed to the gallows, Beth shuffled to the hostess station. “If I know you,” she whispered as they waited to be seated, “you bribed someone for the best table in the house.”

  Michael neither agreed nor disagreed as he tried to swallow his irritation.

  Soon the hostess led them to an outdoor umbrella table with a perfect view of the ocean and the pool area. “How’s this, folks?” she asked.

  “If you don’t like this table, Beth, we could request seats near the kitchen or close to a fish-cleaning station.”

  The confused hostess looked from him to Beth and back again.

  “This will be fine,” Beth said politely. “Although we might get wet if it starts to rain,” she said to him. “That sky is turning ominous.”

  “Let’s hope for the best.” Michael handed her a menu and buried his nose in his. “What sounds good to you?”

  Beth peeked around the tall menu. “I think the ribs and fries or maybe the ribeye with a baked potato.”

  “You did notice we’re on an island, didn’t you? I thought you liked seafood.” Michael’s mood was eroding to match his companion’s.

  “I do. What are you having?” She stuck her nose back in the menu.

  “I decided on the flounder. It’s served with a pecan-peach chutney, jalapeño cheddar grits, and collard greens. Mm-mmm.” Michael rubbed his stomach.

  “Okay, I’ll have the fish tacos with the Baja red rice, although we are far from any baja.” She slapped her menu down on the table. “Do you even know what chutney is?”

  “It’ll be chopped peaches and pecans. Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Michael slapped his menu atop hers with equal force. “Is it the restaurant? The weather? Or is it me? We’re not leaving until you answer me. I don’t care what day it is. You don’t like birthdays anyway.”

  Beth grabbed a fistful of hair on both sides of her head. “I can’t explain it, but the moment I realized you were turning this into an occasion, I got nervous.” She dropped her chin but didn’t let go of her hair.

  “Nervous about what? Ever since you agreed to give us a try, you have fought me at every turn in the road. If you changed your mind about us dating, then just say so.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind about you, but I’m not good with dating.” Beth released the death grip on her curls. “I’m not polished like your former fiancée. I brought only stupid stuff to wear because I packed in ten minutes. Most women would have agonized for hours and had a manicure and pedicure before leaving.” Beth held up one hand. “I put this nail polish on a few days ago, and it shows. I might be good at my job, but I’m a total washout as a classy girlfriend.”

  “First of all, I like your skirt and top. Frankly, I can’t tell the difference between designer fashions and Walmart. Manicures and pedicures are things women do for themselves or each other, not to impress their dates. I don’t care what your nails look like.”

  Unfortunately, the server chose that moment to deliver their drinks. In the time it took to set down two glasses, Beth’s eye
s filled with tears and Michael lost his momentum. He softened his tone. “I wanted you to enjoy yourself and have fun on your birthday. But if you can’t relax, we’ll go back to just being partners. That’s worked for us so far. Maybe we shouldn’t rock the boat.”

  Beth picked up her iced tea with a shaky hand. “It sounds like you’re breaking up with me. I hope that’s not the case, because I would like another chance.”

  Michael studied her face for any hint of deception but saw none. “All right, tell me how we should proceed.”

  She inhaled a deep breath. “Let’s order our fish tacos and chutney flounder and start over.”

  “Even though the closest baja is three thousand miles away?”

  A smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “Even though.”

  “What if it starts raining?”

  “We’ll huddle close under the umbrella. Or we can grab our plates and run inside. Other than my hair turning crazy curly, we’ll be fine.”

  “Your hair is already crazy curly.” Michael couldn’t help himself.

  Beth wiggled her eyebrows. “Then I have nothing left to worry about.”

  Michael signaled the server, who had been patiently waiting for their order. The food turned out to be delicious, and the chutney was exactly as he predicted. But unfortunately, he forgot to cancel arrangements made earlier in the day. Not long after they finished dinner, several employees appeared with a slab of ice cream cake containing a lit mini-sparkler. The trio of servers broke into an off-key but energetic version of “Happy Birthday.”

  Michael leaned close to her ear. “Sorry. I forgot to head them off at the pass.”

  Beth smiled at the cheerful teenagers. “Don’t be silly,” she whispered. “A girl needs to be the center of attention on her birthday.” When they finished singing, Beth thanked them for their efforts and picked up a spoon. “Don’t just sit there, Preston. Help me eat this.”