As for the novel garment, I couldn’t even bring myself to show it to a single customer. When Dolce asked me about it, I said it was okay for certain occasions, for certain customers.
The boat show, held in the huge pavilion, was full of well-dressed yacht people shopping for a three-hundred-eighty-dollar canoe or a multimillion-dollar luxury yacht or something in between. Some of which were docked outside at the pier just waiting to be experienced by eager prospective buyers. Me, I was just trying to get a new slant on life, a life without a murder case to solve.
I’d taken the warning by my mysterious visitor seriously, and I’d returned the yearbooks this week. Jack was right: it was none of my business. He had the resources, the time and the staff. He didn’t need my help. Or want it. And if he never solved this crime, I told myself I didn’t care as long as the killer didn’t strike again.
I walked past motor boats, yachts, sailboats and rowboats. The salesmen were dressed in white or blue, as if they’d just docked. “Care to take a ride on the Bay today?” one guy asked. “I’ve got a catamaran out there with your name on it. Easy to sail and easy on the wallet.”
“Maybe later,” I said. I had to admit it was tempting. The sun was shining, the breeze was cool and the idea of crossing the Bay on a small boat, leaving the land and my troubles behind, was appealing. But I didn’t know how to sail or steer or anything.
“Never sailed before?” the guy asked. “No problem. Let me show you how.”
I smiled and kept walking. Now the canoe, that was more my speed, but out there on the waves? Maybe not.
“Take it to the Russian River,” the canoe salesman suggested. “Strap it on your car and off you go, only two hours away.”
I didn’t tell him I didn’t have a car and I couldn’t afford a canoe.
“Rita, good to see you. Where’s Dolce?” Patti French greeted me at the concessionaires’ stands, a glass of wine in one hand.
“She had plans for today,” I said.
“I’m glad you could make it. Sit down, I’ll get you a glass of wine. They’re having a demo with that chef Ida who shows you how to cook gourmet food on your yacht.”
“That’s handy,” I murmured, taking a seat at a small table as Patti went to get the wine. She came back with a tray loaded with samples that Ida the Galloping Gourmet had made.
“Saffron seafood soup, chili-lime prawns, scallop linguini,” Patti said, handing me a fork.
“Ida can make all this on board a boat?” I asked. Pretty impressive. I had a hard enough time putting together a small dinner in my apartment. Cooking in a tiny galley aboard a boat rocking from side to side? No way.
“She says she can. When you get your yacht, you can hire her and see if she’s right.”
After trying a prawn and a bite of linguini, I vowed I wouldn’t set sail without Ida.
“Lots of Dolce customers here today,” Patti said, turning her head and waving at someone in the crowd while I dug into the spicy seafood soup. “No big surprise there. If you have a boat of any kind or you hang with the yacht-club crowd, you shop at Dolce’s. By the way, I love your bag,” she said. “Gucci?”
I nodded, not mentioning that it was a knockoff.
“Oh look, there’s Lex and Bobbi. Poor guy. He’ll never get over losing Vienna. Don’t tell me he needs a new yacht. He competed in the San Francisco Yacht Race last spring and almost won. Maybe ‘almost’ wasn’t good enough and he needs a faster model. You know Bobbi, don’t you?”
“Actually I’ve never met her,” I said. “Though we’ve spoken on the phone, and I did see her at the funeral.”
“Who could miss her in that red dress she wore?” Patti said. “I never understood that. You didn’t sell it to her, did you?”
I shook my head.
“She’s headed this way. I’m going to duck out of sight. Sorry, Rita, but you know how it is.”
I wasn’t sure I did know how it was. All I knew was that Bobbi, dressed in white wide-leg pants, a striped T-shirt and a casual denim blazer, was headed toward me. Why me? I hardly knew her. I didn’t know her.
“You’re Rita,” she said, setting her wineglass on my table. “I’m Bobbi.”
“How are you?” I asked politely.
“Still looking for that moto jacket,” she said.
“I could order one for you and if it doesn’t work out, no problem,” I said. “Size ten?”
She nodded. “Why not? I deserve it after what I’ve been through.”
I knew I should ask what she’d been through, but I really didn’t want to hear about it. Was she referring to Vienna’s death?
“My husband is having trouble coping with, you know…”
I said I did know.
“I thought I’d buy him something here to take his mind off of…”
“I thought he had a boat,” I said.
“He does, but it’s not a family craft, if you know what I mean. It’s for racing and that’s all. I was thinking of something we could both enjoy. Just because I don’t like racing doesn’t mean I don’t like boats. I grew up on boats. My family belonged to the yacht club. That’s where I met Lex. Right after his divorce. He was a wreck. I cheered him up.”
“What about a catamaran?” I asked. Wasn’t that what one of those salesmen was trying to get me to take a ride in?
“Too slow,” she said. “Even for me. Do you have a minute? I’d like your opinion on a little motorboat.”
That’s what I did for a living: give my opinion on what was suitable for a customer. I thought maybe that was how Bobbi saw the purchase of a boat, something she’d look good in.
She glanced around. “I don’t want Lex to see me going out on a boat. This has to be a surprise.”
“Going out?” I said.
“Otherwise how do you know if it’s what you want? Don’t be afraid, I know my way around boats, at least small ones.”
I followed her out of the building to the pier, where it was obvious she was expected. I wasn’t sure why I went with her except it was a beautiful day and what else did I come to a boat show for if not to have a boat experience? I couldn’t hide in my apartment just because some crazy had threatened me. I had to get back to the old Rita, the one who took chances. Who took cooking lessons, and who was the star student in her water safety class.
“Can you swim?” Bobbi asked me suddenly.
“Yes, can you?”
I didn’t hear her answer because the salesman was telling us that a small powerboat was just what we wanted. For the whole family to enjoy. “Water skiing, fishing, trolling.” I heard the words “fiberglass hull” and “three-year warranty.”
The salesman wanted to take us out, but Bobbi told him she had to get the feel of the motor, the waves, the current.
“I know what I’m talking about,” she told the salesman. “I’ve had boats before. But don’t tell my husband I’m going out on the water in this boat. It’s a surprise for his birthday.”
The salesman pressed his lips together and took a vow of silence. But he still didn’t want us to go out by ourselves.
“If anything happens, it’s my fault,” Bobbi said. “I’ll sign a waiver if it makes you feel any better.”
He said it would and went to get the waiver. But Bobbi didn’t want to wait. She looked at her Cartier watch with the wide band. “I don’t want him to come looking for me,” she said. I assumed she meant Lex. “Get in. We’re going for the ride of our lives.”
Her enthusiasm was contagious. I stepped in the boat and sat at the far end. She grabbed the rope, untied it from the post and jumped aboard. I had to say she moved well and had me convinced she knew what she was doing. She even patiently explained the function of the drive lever, which included the clutch that engages the propeller, the throttle that controls the speed, and the reverse gear.
“Fascinating,” I said politely.
We’d gone about one hundred yards out into the Bay when I saw the salesman standing on the pier waving frantic
ally to us. Bobbi waved back and laughed. The boat hit the waves head-on and bounced over them, sending salt-water spray all over me.
“Shouldn’t we be wearing life jackets?” I shouted over the noise of the engine.
“I think they’re under the seats,” she said. “We’ll get them out when we get to the island.”
I didn’t know which island she meant, Alcatraz or Angel Island or Treasure Island. She looked ecstatic; her face lit up as she sent us at top speed out into the Bay, leaving behind other pleasure boats. Her hair was streaming out behind her, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the throttle. Her eyes were huge, a big smile on her face.
“Having fun?” she shouted.
I nodded, although the wind was coming up and I felt a chill, especially since my shirt was wet. “Maybe we should head back,” I suggested.
She laughed so hard I thought she was going to fall over. “We just left,” she yelled. Then she stood and the boat swerved.
“Bobbi,” I shouted, “what are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what you wanted. An exciting ride.”
“It’s a little too exciting,” I said, inching my way toward her.
She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. The boat stalled. “You think you know who killed Vienna?”
“No,” I said. Because until that moment I didn’t know. But suddenly the smell of bluebells, raspberries, melons and apples filled my nostrils; even there in the fresh air I could smell it. It was her. “I don’t even know what happened to her necklace,” I said calmly.
“Really. I pawned it.”
“You? Why?”
“For the money, stupid. Why else do people pawn necklaces? So I could buy the Rolls Royce Lex wouldn’t give me.”
“But he’s a car salesman.”
“It doesn’t matter. Not to him. The cobbler’s wife has no shoes, ever hear that? So now you know why I took it from her. But not just for the money. Because I didn’t want her to have it. I was furious that she wore it that night. It wasn’t hers.”
“It was her grandmother’s,” I said. This whole thing was a misunderstanding, I told myself.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Bobbi said, shoving me back down onto my seat. “It belonged to Lex’s mother. He gave it to Noreen years ago, and she never gave it back when they got divorced. She gave it to her mother for safekeeping, but didn’t dare wear it. Of course not. When I saw Vienna had it on that night…I was furious. I thought Lex gave it to her. He gave her money, presents, a car. And now the necklace.”
“Yes, but—”
“You had to get into it, didn’t you?” she demanded. “You had to tell the cops it was me. They came to see me yesterday. But I got rid of them.”
“I didn’t…It’s not my…Who told you that?”
“Nobody told me you’d figured things out. Nobody had to tell me. San Francisco is a small town. Everything you did got back to me. Like your going to the pawnshop to get my necklace.”
“But it was gone.”
“Of course it was gone. I bought it back when Lex said he’d buy me a Rolls of my own. Get it?” she asked, leaning toward me with a maniacal smile on her face.
“Yes, I get it,” I told her, eyeing the steering wheel and the throttle. If only I could overpower her and get back to shore. But she was at least three inches taller than me and heavier.
“Bobbi,” I said, “why did you…?”
“To get the necklace. Are you dense? Don’t you see?”
I shook my head.
“I wanted the necklace back. It was mine.”
“But it belonged to Vienna’s grandmother.” I don’t know why I said that, I just knew I had to stall for time. Think, I told myself, think of how to convince Bobbi you don’t know anything. Pretend you still don’t get it. How hard can it be to act clueless?
“I just told you, that’s a lie,” Bobbi said, her face mottled with pink splotches, her hair whipping around her face in the wind. “That was not her necklace. When I saw it on Vienna that night at the auction, I saw red. I demanded it. Told her it belonged to my family, not her mother’s. She refused to hand it over. I followed her to the shop, and she still wouldn’t listen to reason even after I told her how it was stolen from my mother years ago. I can show you pictures of it from the family album. I think I know what’s mine and what’s not. I didn’t mean to kill her. I just wanted the damn necklace back. If she had handed it over, if she hadn’t struggled, she’d still be alive.”
I stood and stared at Bobbi openmouthed while the boat rocked beneath us. What part of her story was true? That she took back the necklace when Lex gave her her own Rolls? That it had belonged to her mother, and not Lex’s? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she’d killed Vienna. I knew it and she knew I knew it.
“So where is it now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know,” she screamed. “Somebody bought it.”
Why she bothered to lie when she intended to do me in I’ll never know. She was not making sense, and I wasn’t either. Under the circumstances, who would?
I only had a moment to ponder all this conflicting information before she shoved me backward. I fell down but got up on my knees and lunged forward. I grabbed her by the ankles. She toppled over like a tall stone statue. She screamed and got back up. We shoved and pushed each other. I was desperate. I knew she wouldn’t want me to live to tell her convoluted story. Whether she’d meant to kill Vienna or not, she’d done it.
“You used the hanger, didn’t you?” I demanded, breathing hard. “And you almost strangled me the other night.”
“I wouldn’t have killed you then. I needed to wait until now, when there are no witnesses.”
I looked around. We were on the other side of the island. No boats, nobody around. I couldn’t let her get away with it. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe the salesman would say, What ever happened to that attractive young woman you left with? Then would Bobbi tell him I’d fallen overboard? Or gone for a swim and disappeared? But I’d be dead and Bobbi would get off Scott free.
“Bobbi, I won’t tell anyone,” I said earnestly. “Your secret is safe with me. Let’s go back to the boat show. We’ll forget this ever happened.” I knew I was being naïve, but I was desperate too.
Her answer was to grab me by the hair and yank me forward and back like the doll Vienna and Athena fought over. Would I lose my arm too? Or would I lose my life?
She pushed me hard one last time, and I toppled overboard. I hit the cold water with a painful thud, and I knew I’d be dead from the elements in minutes. Bobbi walked to the front of the boat just as a rogue wave hit. She fell over and hit her head on the side of the boat before tumbling into the water. I screamed at her. She didn’t hear me. She sank like a stone.
I swam the few strokes back to the boat, pulled myself up and into the boat with my arms aching and the adrenaline pumping. Otherwise I could never have done it. I knew I should dive back in and try to find her, but I was shaking with the cold. I had to get back and get warm or I’d die too. And that wasn’t fair. I hadn’t killed anyone.
Fortunately the engine was still running. I plopped myself in front of the steering wheel and pushed the drive lever forward the way I’d seen Bobbi do. The engine roared and the boat surged forward. I turned the steering wheel and headed back to the boat show. My teeth chattered, my body ached, but I was alive.
There was a crowd waiting for me on the pier, including Detective Wall, Lex Fairchild, the boat salesman and many of our customers, as well as quite a few curious strangers. I didn’t really know what I was doing as I banged the boat against the pier before it came to a shuddering halt. Detective Wall jumped in the boat, threw a blanket around my shoulders and said, “What happened?”
“Bobbi killed Vienna,” I mumbled, my lips cold and stiff.
“I mean what happened out there?” he said.
“She tried to kill me.”
“So what did you do, kill her first?” he asked as
he led me inside.
I shook my head. “We fought. She tried to throw me over, but she fell instead. I couldn’t save her.”
He looked disappointed I hadn’t tried to save her, but not surprised. I wasn’t sure what he felt. What I felt was weak and empty. I sat on a bench and kicked off my boots. When I turned them upside down, gallons of water gushed out.
Jack directed the police boats to go out on a search immediately in case Bobbi had resurfaced. Then he insisted that I change into dry clothes immediately, a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt in my size he had in his car. Don’t ask me where he got them. I didn’t want to know about other women in his life who’d left a set of clothes with him. I just went into the bathroom and stuffed my wet clothes in a plastic bag. A glance in the mirror told me I looked like I’d been shipwrecked, hair hanging in strings, face pale. Then we went to the hospital so I could be checked out.
I told Jack I was fine, and I just wanted to go home. He nodded, but he was on the phone to the Coast Guard telling them about the accident. I knew he wouldn’t let me leave right away. I’d have to go make a statement somewhere, probably at his station. He said having a medical checkup was police procedure. While he stayed in the Urgent Care waiting area, I went into a small examining room wearing a paper gown. On my way in I looked up and down the hall just in case Jonathan was on duty, but he probably still worked nights. The room I was in had a list of do’s and don’ts on the wall, like “Don’t Drink and Drive.” It might have been the same room where I was treated for a concussion and sprained ankle last year after falling off a ladder.
This time, I was diagnosed with shock and hypothermia. They could tell because my temperature was hovering around ninety-five and I was still shivering despite a heat blanket they’d wrapped around me.
“Where were you?” the young doctor asked. A man with none of the bedside manner of my favorite MD.
“In the Bay,” I said, my lips still stiff.
“Without thermal protection, swimming in the Bay is not advised,” he said sternly.
“I know,” I said.
“Without a life jacket, drowning is inevitable.”
Died With a Bow Page 21
