by Rose Pressey
The waitress came over with a menu and water.
“Welcome to Beach Bob’s Grill. Do you need a minute to look over the menu?” she asked with a bright smile.
I glanced down at the plastic covered menu. Since it only had a few options, I knew that there was no real debate.
“I’ll just take a burger and fries. Water is fine to drink.” I nodded.
She grabbed the menu with a smile and hurried away. I busied myself looking over my notes in my iPhone while I waited. The app for the private eye didn’t have as much information as I’d hoped. Maybe I could design my own app in the future. After another couple minutes the waitress returned.
She placed the plate down in front of me. “Can I get anything else for you?
“I could use another napkin.” Why was I stalling?
She smiled and handed me another napkin from her apron. “Anything else?” she asked.
“Well, there was just one more thing. Did you happen to work Thursday night? I’m looking for information about a couple of men who were in here.”
“Are you a cop?” she asked looking at me with curiosity.
I shook my head and reached for a business card from my purse. “I’m a private investigator.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not sure if I can help you. We have a lot of customers.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.” I pulled out a picture of Arthur and handed it to her. “Have you seen this man?”
She looked at the picture and didn’t waste any time nodding. “Yes, I know him. He comes in here a lot. Did he do something wrong?”
I hesitated then finally said, “He’s dead.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my gosh. That’s terrible. What happened to him?”
“He was murdered,” I said.
Her face turned white. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you trying to find his killer?”
Attempting was the key word in that question. Yes, I was trying, but doing a bad job of it.
“Yes, I am. He was in here with another man the other night,” I said.
She nodded. “Yes, I remember seeing them, but they weren’t my table that night.”
“Do you know who waited on them?” I asked.
“Yes. Monica, but she’s not here right now. She’ll be here later tonight,” she said.
I nodded. “Okay, thanks. Do you think she’ll talk to me?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said.
“Do you remember anything unusual about their time here the other night?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not really. I guess once I looked over and noticed that their conversation may have been a little animated, but I thought maybe they’d just had a couple beers.”
“Thanks again. I’ll make sure to come back and talk to Monica,” I said.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she said and then walked away.
A guy with blonde hair bleached by the sun watched me from the table across the room. Did I have ketchup on my face? After another moment, he got up and headed my way. He wore a T-shirt with a surf board on the front and long baggy shorts. He had a lopsided grin on his face the whole time as he watched me.
I glanced over my shoulder, thinking that maybe he was looking at someone behind me, but when he approached my table and stopped, I knew that I was the focus of his attention.
“Hey, I noticed you from across the room,” he said when he approached.
“Okay?” I said.
Maybe it was mustard on my face instead of ketchup.
When I stared at him in silence, he finally pointed to my waist. “Are you a cop?”
I glanced down and saw a little bit of my gun peeking out from my shirt.
I looked up at him. “No, I’m a private investigator.”
He sat down on the stool across from me. I stared at him.
“Please have a seat,” I said sarcastically.
He chuckled, failing to hear the sarcasm in my tone. Or if had, he chose to ignore it.
“Can I buy you a beer?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, but it’s a little too early for a beer. Thanks anyway though,” I said.
“Do you come here often?” he asked as I stuffed a French fry into my mouth.
I shook my head. “No, this is the first time.” It was the oldest pickup line in existence.
“You should come back more often,” he said with a smile.
I never claimed to catch on quickly, but I’d finally figured out why he’d come over. He was flirting. How clueless could I be?
“I take it that you come here often?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Yeah, I hang out here a lot. I used to work here.”
“What do you do now?” I asked.
I really didn’t want to know, but it seemed like I wasn’t going to get out of this without a little bit of conversation with him.
“Well, I am in between jobs. I spend a lot of time surfing,” he said.
I stared at him for a minute, then said, “Maybe you could get a job that involves surfing, like working at a surf shop?”
He laughed. I was being completely serious, but who was I to give advice. Heck, I didn’t know the first thing about surfing. I could barely swim. Enough of the small talk, I needed to find out if he knew anything and then get out of here. Lunchtime was over.
“Did you happen to be here on Tuesday night?” I asked.
He scratched his head. It looked as if he was scrolling through the week’s activities in his mind. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I was. It was the NBA playoffs. Miami Heat was playing, you know?”
I nodded. No, I really didn’t know, but that was neither here nor there. I pulled out the picture of Arthur again and slid it across the table. “Do you recognize this man? Apparently he came in here a lot too.”
He picked up the photo and I saw the same look of recognition in his eyes as the waitress.
“Yeah, I know this dude. He was in here with another man who I’d never seen him with before. They were both wearing suits. Well, this dude always wears a suit which is kind of odd for the beach.”
“Well, he was a lawyer. Maybe he came here after court.” I said.
He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, that makes sense. What do you want with him?”
Everyone immediately thought that Arthur had done something wrong.
“He was murdered and I’m looking for his killer,” I said.
“Get out. How did they kill him?” he asked.
He was crazy if he thought I was going into the gory details.
“I can’t release that information, sorry,” I said.
Never mind that I wasn’t entirely sure myself.
He shrugged. “That’s cool.”
“So did you happen to hear what the men were talking about?” I asked.
He grabbed one of my French fries and popped it into his mouth. With a mouth full of food, he said, “No, I know the one dude got up and left before their food arrived. He threw down a few bills for his beer and took off.”
I straightened on the stool. “Really? So they had an argument?”
He shrugged. “I can’t say it was an argument, but it didn’t seem like they were happy.”
I jumped up and tossed a few bills onto the table. “Thanks for the info. And good luck with the surfing.”
It appeared that Matt Cooper had a motive for Arthur’s murder and now I knew for sure that they’d been together on the night before Arthur’s murder.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Later that evening, I’d picked up Dorothy and we were headed to Matt Cooper’s home. Now that I knew Matt’s wife was having an affair, I wanted to talk with his wife more. She’d disappeared before I’d gotten a chance to ask all the questions I had for her. Dorothy and I pulled up to Matt’s house. Landscape lighting highlighted the palm trees that surrounded the home. Pathway lights guided people toward the front door. I hadn’t expected so many people to be at his home. As a matter o
f fact, I hadn’t expected to see anyone actually. I had hoped to see something happen, but when snooping, there were no guarantees.
“It looks like they’re having a party,” Dorothy said, craning her head to get a good look at the guests walking toward the house.
People were dressed in formal attire, so I knew this wasn’t an impromptu get-together. One good thing about all the people being around was that I felt like we could blend in with the crowd. No one would pay attention to us, although we weren’t exactly dressed for a black-tie event. Cars filled the driveway and even started to line up along the street. My plan definitely hadn’t included this scenario, so I wasn’t sure what to do.
The sun was setting quickly and I was thankful for the cover of the dark night sky. We watched in silence for another couple minutes. I could have just driven away, but I was too curious. I had to know what was going on inside that house. Why were they having a party? Was it a special occasion? Why was it so formal? There was only one option for us. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel as I tried to come up with the best plan. Dorothy grabbed my hand to stop me from the tapping that was obviously annoying the heck out of her.
Finally, I looked at her and said, “I think we should crash the party.”
Her eyes widened as she stared at me. “I think we’re a little underdressed, don’t you think?” She glared at me.
I looked down at my pink tank top and shorts and her Hawaiian shirt. Okay, I was wrong, we would stand out a little, but I couldn’t let a little detail like that get in my way.
“Maybe we can peek in the windows,” I said.
“Isn’t that illegal?” She raised her eyebrow.
I thought about the question for a second. “Hmm. I’m not so sure that party snooping would be illegal. If the police came they would just think we were displaced guests.”
Dorothy frowned. “I don’t know.”
I grabbed the keys from the ignition and opened the door. “Let’s give it a shot. You know you want to, Dorothy.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
I marched toward the house, trying to act completely normal. If Matt Cooper confronted me about being at his party, well, I would just tell him that I was invited by someone else. It looked as if all the guests had arrived and it looked as if no one was late for the party.
Dorothy had been fidgeting during the entire walk up the driveway.
“We’ll go around to the side of the house and take a look,” I said.
“I don’t see what good that will do. What do you think you’ll discover by peeking in the windows? What kind of food they’re serving?” Dorothy said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I never claimed to have all the answers. Maybe I’ll get some kind of clue as to what the party is for.”
“Oh, you’re just nosy,” she said.
“I’m going to ignore that,” I said.
As we approached the house someone called out to me. “You’re late and the help goes in the side entrance over here.”
I whirled around to find a woman standing behind us. She had a scowl on her face and her hands firmly on her hips.
“Now get in there and get to work, both of you. The food is ready to be served. I hope you brought your change of clothing. You’re supposed to wear a white shirt and black pants,” she said.
I glanced at Dorothy. She shook her head, but I knew this was a perfect opportunity to get inside the house.
As we followed the woman around to the side entrance, Dorothy whispered, “There is no way I am waiting on these people. My feet will hurt. I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Well, I didn’t either.” I said.
When we entered the house, the woman pointed at the bathroom on the left. “You can change in there, but hurry up.”
Dorothy snorted. “She is a bossy bitch.”
“I have no intention of doing it anyway,” I said.
“Besides, we don’t have any clothing to change into,” Dorothy reminded me.
“Come on, we’ll sneak through the house and find out what’s going on. Make sure to keep your ears open to see if you overhear anything,” I said.
“I don’t know what I’m listening for.” She shook her head.
Sadly, I had no idea what I was listening for either. We slipped into the kitchen. The space was full of bodies busy preparing food. Waitstaff and chefs crisscrossed in front of each other in a flurry of activity. In the corner of the kitchen, I spotted the boss so I hurried Dorothy into the next room. A few people looked at us when we entered the area full of party guests. I smiled nervously as I practically carried Dorothy into the room. She was not a good investigative partner tonight. Luckily, the people were so busy talking with others that they turned their attention away from us.
“We need to find a corner to hide so we can blend in,” I said.
“You think I can blend in with these people? They’re wearing clothing that would cost me a year’s paycheck.” She frowned at me.
“Hey, I pay you a good wage. It’s the going rate for assistants,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “No matter.”
I didn’t have more money to pay her even if I wanted to give her a raise. “Never mind that right now,” I said.
“I’m wearing an orange shirt with purple flowers. I might as well wave a flag and tell everyone to look over at me,” she said.
I wasn’t much better in my shorts and tank. Women wore elegant dresses and most men wore tuxedos and a few wore suits. Nevertheless, I was dressed for a picnic.
We inched out into the foyer, making our way further into the belly of the beast. When I neared the living room, I stopped.
“Look at the small sign above the fireplace,” I said.
In an understated framed sign above the mantel were the words Happy Anniversary with a picture of Matt Cooper and his wife. Well, at least now I knew what the party was for. I instantly felt bad for invading their private event. I really had no business being inside their home, although I had kind of been dragged into the space.
We watched for a few seconds, then I whispered to Dorothy, “We should just get out of here.”
“I think that is the best thing you’ve said all night,” Dorothy said.
I couldn’t wait to get home and crash. I had a rerun of Magnum, P.I. just waiting for me.
“I am starving. I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner before you dragged me to this shindig. You didn’t even give me a chance to get a peppermint out of my purse before we came in here,” Dorothy said.
As I stepped back into the foyer, Dorothy stopped a waiter with a tray of food.
“I can’t believe they are still having this party,” a woman said.
I turned around to look at the man and woman talking next to me. They didn’t pay attention to me and didn’t notice that I was now eavesdropping. I inched a little closer, hoping to hear more of this juicy conversation.
“I can’t believe she was cheating on him,” the man said.
What was with everyone cheating at that law firm? Was it something in the water? Did this couple have more information about the affair or did they just like to gossip? Unfortunately, they had changed the topic after they grabbed food off the passing tray. They had shifted to talking about their upcoming vacation. I wanted to ask them, but I knew it was time for us to get out of there. They must have felt me staring at them because they looked over and frowned. I smiled, but they didn’t return the sentiment. I motioned with a tilt of my head for Dorothy to follow me back the way that we’d come. We moved across the foyer again. I could almost see our escape.
“Dorothy Raye? What are you doing here?” a woman said loudly.
I froze on the spot. What would we do now? I hadn’t expected anyone to recognize us in a million years. The woman hurried over to Dorothy and at the same time I rushed over to grab her. I was too late though because the woman was hugging Dorothy.
“You look great,” the woman said.<
br />
I could tell she wasn’t being sincere.
“We have to get out of here,” I whispered to Dorothy as she continued chatting with this woman.
Finally the women said their good-byes and I pulled Dorothy’s arm, guiding her through a group of people. As I made it to the dining room, I smashed right into a man’s chest. It almost knocked the wind out of my lungs.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Matt Cooper glared at me.
His face turned red. I expected to see steam coming out of his ears. I hadn’t planned on this scenario. But I hadn’t thought it wouldn’t happen either. Now as I thought back about the stupid excuse I’d come up with in case I’d run into Matt, it wasn’t a very good plan.
“You mean I wasn’t invited?” I asked innocently.
When the little vein on his temple appeared, I knew it was time for us to get out of there. I grabbed Dorothy and practically carried her to the back door. The woman who had ushered us inside to work yelled out, but I didn’t glance back.
As we hurried around the side of the house, I stumbled around a shrub. Dorothy was ahead of me. I had no idea a woman her age could move that fast. It was as if someone had said they were giving away free yarn.
When I’d almost made it safely to the driveway, a hand grasped my arm and I screamed. Not very tough private eye-like, but it was what it was.
“What the hell are you doing?” I said when I turned around and saw who it was. “Why are you always lurking around? Stop following me.”
“Did you enjoy the party?” Jake asked.
“What are you doing here?” I pushed him lightly, making contact with hard chest. “You are crossing the creepy stalker line. No, you’ve already crossed that line.”
“I’m just following up on a few things,” he said.
“I find that hard to believe. As a matter of fact, I don’t believe you at all.” I spun around and continued down the drive toward the car.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
