Murder at the Waterfront: A Northwest Cozy Mystery (Northwest Cozy Mystery Series Book 7)
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MURDER AT THE WATERFRONT
By
Dianne Harman
(A Northwest Cozy Mystery - Book 7)
Copyright © 2018 Dianne Harman
www.dianneharman.com
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Paperback ISBN: 978-1717410290
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
So many of you have written to me saying how much you like the character, Al De Duco, that I had no choice but to write a book where he takes front and center. Truth be told, he’s one of my favorite characters as well. His methods of solving crimes may not be quite according to law enforcement rules and regulations, but no one can deny the fact that the man gets results!
There’s a quote that brings Al to mind: “It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game.” Think Al would say “It’s not how you play the game, it’s whether or not you win!”
As always, my thanks to the team who does so much to make my books consistent best sellers and award winners: Tom, Vivek, and Connie. I honestly don’t think my books would see the light of day without your help, encouragement, and wise counsel.
And to each of you, my readers: The only reason I can call myself an author is because you take the time to read my books, and for that I am so, so grateful. Thank you one and all!
Free Paperbacks
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Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
EPILOGUE
RECIPES
ABOUT DIANNE
SURPRISE!
PROLOGUE
Maureen Knight sipped her vodka martini and swayed to the music coming from the hidden speakers in her Seattle waterfront condominium. As she opened the glass doors onto the twentieth story balcony and stepped outside, the light breeze felt cool on her skin. Below her was Puget Sound, stretching into the distance until it met the glow of fiery red that was the sun setting on the horizon. The long evenings of early summer had arrived, and with them, a full calendar of social events that her sister, Kitten, expected her to attend. She’d have to talk to her about that later.
She heard a sound coming from inside the apartment and turned towards it. “Kitten, is that you?”
“Of course it’s me, who else were you expecting?”
Maureen smiled as Kitten approached in towering heels with the tell-tale expensive Christian Louboutin red soles, her walk that of a model striding down the runway. Kitten’s long legs seemed to go on forever, eventually reaching a short white chiffon strappy dress with pearl embellishments over a nude slip. Kitten’s tan limbs set off the pale, delicate fabric to perfection, her golden hair in a loose updo with a few strands falling around her heart-shaped face. The white stole over her shoulders hinted at the cleavage below.
Maureen walked over to where Kitten was mixing a drink at the kitchen island. “I hope that’s not real fur around your neck,” she said.
Kitten looked up and frowned at her. “It’s fake. I’m being politically correct.”
“What’s with the frown?” Maureen said self-consciously. “Have I got lipstick on my teeth?”
“You can’t wear that,” Kitten said, topping off her glass of vodka with diet soda and a slice of lime. “We’re going to a cocktail party, not a funeral.”
Maureen glanced down at her black sequin dress. “It’ll do. Anyway, we’re late. I thought you said you’d be here before 9:00 p.m.”
Kitten smiled coyly at Maureen. “Remember your sister is a newlywed. I have to keep my husband happy, after all.” She passed the vodka bottle to Maureen, who added a splash to her own glass.
“Speaking of husbands, where is Mario?”
Kitten laughed. “He went on up to the penthouse. The party’s already in full swing. I told him we’d be there soon. Events like these are work for him, but that doesn’t mean the two of us can’t still have some fun.”
Maureen sipped her drink. “He does own the place, and it’s very generous of him to let me live here. You know how grateful I am to be staying in a prestigious development like this rent-free, don’t you? It’s not forever, though.”
Mario might be her sister’s husband, but Maureen was under no illusions. He was a smart businessman, not running a charitable housing project for a homeless middle-aged divorcee whose ex-husband had left her for his secretary. The hype surrounding the completion of the Waterfront Palace made it the most desirable place to live on the water in Seattle, and the units were being released slowly to keep prices high. At some point, Maureen knew she was going to be out on her ear.
“Don’t worry,” Kitten said, dragging her sister by the arm into the bedroom. “We’ll find a man for you who has plenty of money to look after you.” She opened the closet door. “But you’re going to have to make a little more effort. How about this one?” She pulled out a beige silky dress.
Maureen shook her head. “Too clingy. I gained a few pounds after the heartbreak diet wore off.”
Kitten tossed the dress onto the bed and selected several more outfits, the pile of discarded garments getting higher and higher as each one was rejected by Maureen as being either “too revealing, too short, or too cheap.”
“Fine, you win,” Kitten said eventually. “That frumpy old thing you’re wearing will have to do. By the way, it looks like a black sack with sparkles.”
Maureen tried to disguise the hurt she felt at Kitten’s words, knowing her younger sister didn’t mean it. For Kitten, looking good was all about attracting men. Maureen had played the bar scene pick-up game numerous times with Kitten after her husband Mac had left her two years earlier, and she was tired of it. She was hoping now that Kitten was married, her sister would let it go.
As if recognizing the pain in Maureen’s eyes, Kitten backtracked. “I’m kidding. I know you like that dress because Mac bought it for you, right?”
Maureen nodded, a lump finding its way into her throat.
“Come on then.” Kitten placed her arm gently around Maureen and steered her over to the vanity. “Sit down and let me fix your hair.”
Maureen settled in front of the vanity mirror, vodka in hand, and watched Kitten brush her glossy brunette hair with firm strokes, before using a heated curling iron to add some bounce. When she was done, Kitten took a step back and gazed at Maureen’s reflection. “I’m going to touch up your face and add some blush,” she said, reaching for the Anastasia Beverly Hills makeup palette before Maureen could protest. “What are you smiling about? Is it because Gaspard Chastain will be here tonight?”
“
No,” Maureen said, the warmth of several vodkas drowning out any apprehension she may have had about seeing the chef she had been casually dating for a while. “I’m smiling at you. This reminds me of when we were little, and you used to give me makeovers. Fifty years later, and nothing’s changed. Anyway, I’ve not seen Gaspard for a while. I think he knows I’m not interested.”
Kitten giggled. “I can’t keep up with you these days. Not that I blame you, making up for lost time after being stuck with boring old Mac for a husband all those years. He’s the last person I would have expected to run off with a young floozie the way he did. How’s it going with that other guy, Jack, the one from out of town? Not that you want to end up living in Kansas, mind you. Get him to move to Seattle instead. Now then, let me see you.”
Maureen leaned into the mirror and marvelled at the transformation she had undergone in less than ten minutes. Her hair skimmed her shoulders, the waves added by Kitten making it appear weightless. With what seemed to Maureen like some kind of magic sleight of hand, Kitten had contoured her cheeks, removing ten years off her age with a few sweeps of a cosmetics brush.
Maureen stood and turned to Kitten, her face cracking a broad smile. “Thanks, you’re a love. I have to admit I do look better. I’d kiss you, but I don’t want to ruin my lipstick.”
Kitten’s mouth opened in mock horror. “Please, stay away from me. I’m wearing white, remember?”
Walking back into the main living area, the sound of Kitten’s heels clicked on the polished oak flooring. Maureen lifted her purse from the hall table, as she mumbled something inaudible.
“What was that?” Kitten asked.
“Mac’s coming tonight.”
Kitten glared at her. “Tell me you didn’t just say what I thought you said.”
Maureen shrugged. “I don’t see how it’s a big deal. We’re getting along better these days, that’s all.”
“It’s up to you,” Kitten said with a shrug. “But you’d be a lot better off with someone who treats you with respect, like Kansas Jack for one. He was taken with you from that first night we met him in The Nest Bar at The Thompson Hotel. We really should go now” Her heels clicked as she walked towards the front door. She held it open, waiting for Maureen to catch up with her.
Maureen was silent in the elevator on the way up to the penthouse on the twenty-fifth floor, while Kitten chastised her for communicating with her ex-husband when she had much more eligible suitors interested in romancing her. It was Kitten’s opinion that if a man like Mac had treated Maureen so badly once, he would do it again. Maureen nodded now and then, knowing better than to argue with Kitten.
The elevator doors opened directly into a vast hallway, abuzz with the lively conversation and the laughter of the rich and beautiful people of Seattle. A bar was set up on the wide rooftop balcony that wrapped around the entire penthouse, where a wait staff replenished trays of cocktails and champagne, and smokers stood in a huddle.
Maureen watched as Kitten scanned the room for her husband Mario and waved when she saw him. “Look over there,” Kitten said, nudging her sister, before grabbing two flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. “Mario’s with that delicious friend of his. I forget his name, but he’s filthy rich. And single. Let’s go.”
Maureen sipped her champagne and shook her head. “I’ll be over in a moment.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man approach, and she pretended not to notice until he had stepped beside her.
“Hey,” a deep voice whispered in her ear, sending a forbidden shiver down her spine. “Do I recognize that dress? You look beautiful.”
She turned to her ex-husband and smiled.
*****
Maureen’s heart was aflutter for the rest of the evening. She mingled, flirted, and drank more than usual, knowing that when Mac was not by her side his eyes were on her, checking across the room every so often to see what she was up to. She mostly ignored Kitten’s disapproving glances that she cast her way, although she did allow herself to be dragged off by her sister more than once to be introduced to one eligible bachelor after another. Maureen wasn’t a stupid woman. She knew she had to keep her options open.
Despite the other attractive men there, Maureen thought Mac was more handsome than any of them. He may have lost some of his hair, and he packed a small paunch these days, but she was still attracted to him, and was giddy with certainty that he felt the same way about her.
When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she looked at Mac with feigned tiredness. “I really should leave,” she said. “Goodnight.”
“I’ll walk you downstairs,” Mac said in a low murmur.
After saying their goodbyes, they left arm in arm. Only when they were alone in the elevator did Mac step towards her and pull her into his arms. “I’ve missed you,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “It’s over with Leslie. I’ve told her I made a big mistake, and I did. All I need now is for you to forgive me, and I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”
“It’s not that easy,” Maureen said with a smile, glad he couldn’t see her face. “I’ll have to think it over. You know how hard it will be for me to ever trust you again, don’t you Mac?”
The elevator dinged at Maureen’s floor, and they pulled apart. Mac paused when they reached the door of Maureen’s condominium.
Maureen looked into his eyes, the passion in them plain to see. “Would you like to come in for coffee?”
Mac let out a soft groan. “I would love to, but I have an early business meeting. You’re tired, you should sleep.”
“Not so tired,” Maureen whispered, snaking her arms around his neck and kissing him urgently. Pulling away before he was ready to return the kiss, she opened the door and said, “Goodnight.”
Inside her condo, Maureen caught her breath. She had Mac right where she wanted him, hungry for her. Kitten had been right about the dress, but she’d worn it for Mac. He never could resist her in this dress. And tonight was no exception, she thought to herself as she heard the soft knock on the door several minutes later.
“Just a moment,” she called, changing quickly into a scanty negligee and then hurrying back to open the door.
She stood there, almost naked, vulnerable and alone, facing her killer. She tried to scream, but it never had time to leave her mouth before she slumped in the doorway, dead before her body hit the floor. The sound of the two pistol shots was muffled by a silencer, with the quiet “puffs” being all that was heard.
CHAPTER 1
Jack Monroe checked his cell phone for messages for the tenth time in as many minutes and then set it back down on the kitchen table with a thump.
His elderly mother chuckled from where she was sitting in her rocking chair in the corner. “Still no reply from that city broad, huh?”
“That’s not a nice way to talk, mom. Her name’s Maureen.”
“She’s playing you for a fool, son. Grown man like you should know better. Eat your meatloaf, and then there’s horses to feed. The ranch won’t run itself, you know, and I’m all worn out working from dawn till dusk trying to do everything.”
Jack moved the remaining food around on his plate with his fork. His mother was right, he was too old for this type of game with a woman, but Maureen wasn’t just any woman. Ever since he’d met her at an upscale hotel bar in Seattle when he’d been there on a business trip several months earlier, he was totally captivated by her. He tried to see her as often as possible, usually every couple of weeks, which seemed to be fine with her but was never enough for him.
“That’s not fair, mom. You know I do what I can around here when I’m not at the office or out on the road.”
His mother harrumphed. “Life isn’t fair, we both know that. You and that ritzy job of yours. Just because you dress up all sharp and fancy doesn’t mean it’s real work. A man should be getting his hands dirty, same as your father did and old Pops Monroe before him.”
Jack pushed his unfinished dinner plate away and sighed. He was used to
his mother’s sharp tongue. The ranch was hemorrhaging money faster than he could earn it, but his mother wouldn’t consider selling it. As the eldest of five sons, he had watched his brothers leave home, one by one, while he stayed on with his mother after their father died twenty years earlier. He’d been married, briefly, but his ex-wife didn’t care much for ranch life and a mother-in-law who found fault with everything she did.
He walked over to the ancient stove and poured some milk in a pan to warm. “I didn’t get the award for top sales executive for the last two years without a lot of hard work. And if I wasn’t out selling computer equipment to large corporations, the ranch hands wouldn’t get paid nor would the vet’s bills. This place you love so much can barely make ends meet.”
“You can sell it when I die, Jack, and not before. I’d die of a broken heart if I had to live anywhere else. Your father’s out there in the meadow, and I can’t leave him.”
Jack poured the milk into a mug and stirred in some powdered cocoa mix and sugar. He took it over to his mother who was waiting with a frail, outstretched hand.
“It’s all right, I know that,” Jack said quietly, her sad, pale blue eyes softening his heart. His father’s ashes were scattered over the land, in accordance with his dying wishes, and his mother’s will stipulated that the same be done for her ashes when her time came. The old woman was strong in spirit, but her health was failing, and Jack wasn’t sure if she would make it through another year.
A buzz sounded from the table, and Jack turned around to see his phone screen light up.
“You go on,” his mother said with a half-smile, “and speak to your lady friend. I’ll be going to bed soon. Don’t forget the horses, hear me?”
But Jack was already gone.
*****
“Maureen, is everything okay? I was worried about you.” Jack clicked the door of his bedroom closed, even though his mother was downstairs and practically deaf anyway.
The tinkling laugh at the other end of the line eased some of the tension he’d been feeling, and he relaxed his shoulders. “Oh Jack, I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. You know how it is. I was out with Kitten, and the time got away from us. Ever since that sister of mine got married, I barely see her. We had so much to catch up on.”