Pineapple Puzzles: A Pineapple Port Mystery: Book Three (Pineapple Port Mysteries 3)

by Amy Vansant

  “No, isn’t she at your house?”

  “No. Darla said she saw her go somewhere with Lester.”

  “Lester from bowling?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why would she go anywhere with Lester?”

  “I have no idea. I’m at his house now but there’s no one here.”

  Declan fell silent as they both thought on any possible relationship between Lester and Stephanie.

  “Maybe he needed a lawyer,” said Charlotte.

  “For his police trouble? That’s not a bad thought. Did you check her office?”

  “No. I’ll go borrow Mariska’s car and check it out.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you need any help. Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Charlotte hung up and hopped back in her golf cart.

  “One of these days I’m going to have to buy a car, like a big girl,” she mumbled, stomping on the pedal.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Stephanie and Lester took his car to her one-story, cement brick office building. The building was unmarked, and she stared at the spot her sign should be. She hadn’t decided what to call the firm yet.

  Ah well. Now wasn’t the time to design a logo.

  She motioned him to a parking spot in front of the door.

  “Do you mind backing in? It’s a quirk of mine.”

  Lester shrugged and made a K-turn so he could back his car up to the door.

  Before he could turn off the car and get out, she hopped out and jogged around the side of the office. She found a wheelbarrow there and pushed it to the door. Leaving it beside the entrance, she wiggled her key in the lock before pointing Lester inside. He obliged, and she pushed the wheelbarrow in behind him, parking it in the sparse reception area. She hadn’t hired a receptionist yet. For now it was easier and cheaper to answer the phone with a deep southern accent and then pretend to patch through to herself.

  “Why are you putting that in here?” Lester asked, staring at the wheelbarrow.

  “Just in case.”

  “You think it might be stolen outside?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. Come into my office.”

  She clapped the dirt from her hands and led Lester into her office.

  “Nice,” he said, looking around his plush surroundings.

  “Thanks,” she took a moment to admire her own decorating. She’d bought everything from the unique riveted chairs to the classic leather sofa at Restoration Hardware, which was one of the reasons she’d yet to hire a receptionist. One more trip there and she’d be eating Ramen noodles for the rest of the year.

  “Have a seat.”

  Stephanie moved to the window and peeked through the shutter slats. She didn’t want to stay long enough for her mother to cruise by. She sighed and closed the blinds. Maybe being here is a bad idea. She surveyed every drawer and knick-knack as a potential weapon. When the Puzzle Killer was after you, anything could be a trap.

  She shook her head. No. It was too soon. Her mother hadn’t had time to plan an interesting killing. At this point her greatest worries were knives, guns and poisons. The classics.

  Stepping between Lester and his view of the bookshelf, she slid a legal encyclopedia from the shelf and pressed against the side wall with her fingertips. A hidden door popped open and from it, she pulled a small vial with a black top. She closed the trapdoor and slid the book back into place.

  Turning, she found Lester staring at the bottle of bourbon on her credenza.

  “Fancy a glass?” she asked.

  Lester grinned. “Are you saying it’s five o’clock somewhere?”

  “If I am, kill me,” she mumbled.

  She hoisted a crystal tumbler, surreptitiously wiped the worst of the dust out of it, and poured half a glass.

  “Ice?” he asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you have any ice?”

  She pointed. “See the freezer over there?”

  Lester twisted in his chair and scanned the back wall of the office. “Um, no?”

  “Then no. I don’t have any ice.”

  He smiled and held out his hand. “Then neat is just fine.”

  She picked up a shot glass labeled “Joe’s Pub” and poured another. Picking up the crystal tumbler, she took a step toward Lester and paused, holding the glass just out of his reach.

  “How much do you weigh, Lester?”

  “Is that important to the case?”

  “It could be. I like to cover my bases.”

  “About a hundred and forty-five pounds.”

  She nodded and handed him the glass. “Okay. Good.”

  They clinked and she shot back hers.

  He took a large sip. “Wonderful, is this Jim Beam?”

  She dropped her head and looked at him from beneath her brow. “Pappy Van Winkle, but close.”

  “Hm.” He took another sip. “So, what should we do about my predicament?”

  She leaned against the desk. “Well, for one I think you should stick with your story about accidentally leaving the cage open. It would be difficult to prove you didn’t.”

  “So you don’t think I should tell them about the guy who paid me?”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “But what if they catch the guy and he turns on me?”

  “They won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Trust me.”

  “I—” Lester gripped the armrest. “Wow. I’m not feeling well at all.”

  “No? Maybe we should get you home. Stand up.” Stephanie moved to his side and began tugging on his arm.

  Lester stood. “I don’t know. I...I think I might be sick.”

  “Then we definitely need to get you off this rug.”

  She dragged him out into the hall.

  “I’m really dizzy.” His eyes began to flutter and he started to tilt as if he was going to fall.

  Stephanie pushed him so he landed neatly in the wheelbarrow.

  He gasped when he hit the metal and slapped one hand on his heart.

  “Elevated heart rate?” she asked.

  His mouth moved, but no sound escaped. A moment later, he was unconscious.

  There was a knock on the door and Stephanie jumped. She circled the wheelbarrow and pushed it toward the spare office. Lester’s arm, flopping over the side, knocked into a vase of flowers on the table near the sofa and it crashed to the floor.

  Stephanie grit her teeth and cursed. She got half into the office when his arm caught against the wall and nearly tipped the wheelbarrow.

  There was another knock on the door, this one louder.

  “Coming!” she screamed. She backed up and pushed Lester’s flopping arm across his chest and tried again.

  She hit something and the wheelbarrow stopped so suddenly she almost fell into it. She peeked over the edge and saw she’d wheeled right into the pale, dead arm of the corpse occupying her spare office. The one with the angel mermaid tattoo.

  “Lester, I believe you’ve met Jake,” she mumbled, tipping the wheelbarrow over and dropping Lester on top of the now deceased man she’d hired to steal the alligator.

  The other loose end.

  She twisted the barrow out of the way and closed the door.

  Whew. It was time to take out the trash. Jake was getting ripe.

  She pushed the larger pieces of the vase under the sofa with her foot and ran to the door.

  Before opening it, she peeked through the front shutters, and spotted a dark-haired woman.

  Charlotte.

  Stephanie threw back her head, screwed shut her eyes and pounded an invisible table with both fists. Why is this girl always ruining everything?

  She took a moment to compose herself and opened the door.

  “Well hello, Charlotte, fancy meeting you here.”

  Charlotte put her hands on her hips. “Stephanie, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at my house. Don’t you think this will be the first place your mother looks for y
ou?”

  Stephanie nodded. “You’re right, you’re right—I just needed to pick up a few things.”

  “Is Lester here?”

  “Who?”

  “Lester. Guy from Pineapple Port. Darla said you left with him.”

  “Oh! Lester. Old guy. No. He wanted to show me a sandhill crane. Like I’ve never seen one of those before.” She laughed and threw her hand in the air to show Charlotte how little her interaction with Lester had meant to her.

  Charlotte stood on her toes and peered into the office. “Your office looks nice.”

  “This is my future reception. You should see my—” Stephanie tried to stop herself but knew it was too late. Charlotte breezed by her into the office.

  “I’d love to see it,” she said, her eyes drifting to the shards of broken vase on the ground near the sofa. “Whoops.”

  “Furniture delivery guys knocked it over,” said Stephanie. She held the doorknob and chewed her lip. She wanted to keep the door open in order to better usher Charlotte out of the office, but on the other hand, if her mother was on the way to kill her, she didn’t want to make it too easy for her.

  At least sweet Charlotte would probably end up collateral damage in that scenario. She could die happy knowing that.

  Still.

  “I’ll give you the nickel tour,” she said, closing and locking the front door.

  “Great,” said Charlotte, walking towards the spare office.

  “No!” Stephanie lunged toward her and Charlotte froze. “That’s, that's not the right office. It’s this one. That one is under construction. Hard hat area...”

  She chuckled and ushered Charlotte into her own office.

  “Wow,” said Charlotte stroking the back of one of the leather chairs. “Is this Restoration Hardware?”

  Stephanie beamed. “It is.”

  “Really nice.” Her gaze fell onto Lester’s glass of bourbon. “Stress is getting to you, huh?”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “You caught me.” She moved to the glass and shifted it to the credenza, farther away from Charlotte.

  “Is that bourbon?”

  “Yes.”

  Charlotte chuckled. “Good thing Mariska’s husband Bob didn’t come with me. He loves bourbon. You’d be in trouble.”

  “Mm. Yes. I’d be in trouble.”

  “What kind is it?”

  “Pappy Van Winkle.”

  “Is that a good one?”

  Stephanie sighed. “Yes.”

  Charlotte looked at a yellow legal pad on the desk and walked around to grab a pen. “Mind if I write that down?” she asked, scrawling Pappy Van Winkle on the pad and ripping off the top sheet. She folded it and tucked it into the pocket of her shorts.

  “Might make a good Christmas gift for Bob.”

  “Might. Great idea.” Stephanie moved to lead Charlotte from the office. “Okay, well, I’ll be back at your house in just a bit—”

  “Your car was still at my house. Don’t you need a ride? I can take you back.” Charlotte glanced toward the closed shutters. “Is that car out there yours?”

  “No.”

  “A new client?”

  “Yes.” Stephanie smiled. “Yes! He’s in the bathroom. If you could skedaddle I’d really appreciate it—”

  “In the bathroom all this time?” whispered Charlotte as Stephanie pushed her into the reception area. “That explains, well, I didn’t want to say anything but there’s a weird smell.”

  “Yes. He’s got tummy issues. It’s what he’s suing about, actually.”

  “I thought you were a criminal lawyer.”

  “Uh, I moonlight. The occasional medical malpractice.” She unlocked the bolt and pushed Charlotte toward sunlight.

  Charlotte stepped outside and turned.

  “Maybe I should stand guard until you wrap up? You know, keep an eye on the door at least?”

  “No. No. I’ll be fine. I’ll be home in twenty minutes.”

  Charlotte grinned. “You called my house home.”

  Stephanie smiled and shut the door.

  “But you don’t have your car!” called Charlotte.

  “That’s why they invented Uber!”

  Peeking through the shutters, she watched Charlotte get into her car and drive away. She strolled into her office, exhausted. Without thinking, she reached for the glass of bourbon on the credenza and had it to her lips before jerking it away, carefully rocking it to keep any from spilling. She hustled it to the bathroom and poured it down the sink. Opening the cabinet beneath, she grabbed a can of Comet and scrubbed the sink down with some wadded toilet paper. When she was done, she tossed the paper in the toilet and flushed.

  What a day.

  Stephanie went to the spare office, the glass tumbler in her hand. Lester was still immobile, one foot still on the wheelbarrow. She looked at the glass in her hand, looked at Lester, and then back again. Pulling on his collar, she tucked the tumbler into his tucked-in t-shirt for safe keeping and pulled his car keys from his pocket. She hoisted him back into the wheelbarrow. She was happy he was such a small man. Jake was much larger.

  She went outside, and after looking left and right for any sign of Charlotte, popped Lester’s trunk. She propped open the front door with a law book, rolled the wheelbarrow to the back of the car and flipped Lester into the trunk. She rolled back to the spare office and with great effort, did the same with Jake.

  Tucking in arms and legs, she closed and locked the car before returning the wheelbarrow to the side of the office.

  “Time to go for a drive, boys,” she mumbled, sliding into the driver’s seat.

  She knew right where to take them.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  By the time Charlotte returned home, Declan and Seamus were waiting for her. Now, all three of them sat in her living room. It had been over an hour since she’d left Stephanie at her office.

  “I really appreciate your help with this,” said Charlotte, rubbing Declan’s arm.

  “You appreciate my help? You wouldn’t even be in this mess if it wasn’t for me.”

  “And your terrible taste in women,” added Seamus.

  Charlotte looked at Seamus and he offered her a crooked smile.

  “Present company excluded, of course.”

  “Thank you.” Charlotte crooked her own mouth. “She said twenty minutes. I figured she’d be late with the client and his tummy issues, but I’m starting to think maybe we should go check on her.”

  “Where’s your cat?” asked Declan.

  “Carolina took him to Mariska’s house for a visit. The two of them have developed some sort of bond.”

  “Witches and their familiars,” mumbled Seamus.

  Declan wandered to the front window and peered out.

  “I see a car!” he said, stepping outside onto the stoop. Charlotte and Seamus followed him.

  Stephanie stepped out of the back of a black Cadillac and the car rolled off. She spotted Declan, registered surprise, smoothed her skirt and walked up the driveway.

  “Were you worried about me?” she asked him.

  “Charlotte was.”

  “So you drove over here? That’s sweet.” She spotted Seamus in the doorway. “Oh, and you brought Lucky Charms. How magically delicious.”

  “You might be a little sweeter to me if you knew I’d found you a safe place to stay.”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Thanks. I’ve been meaning to thank you for this five-star nursing home.”

  “Not here,” said Charlotte. “Seamus has a friend who works for Witness Protection.”

  Stephanie’s mouth fell open. “Witness Protection? I’m not going into Witness Protection!”

  “We’re not saying you are. This Marshal offered to help and she’s an unknown. Your mother won’t be able to make any connection to her, so you’ll be safe.”

  Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and bounced the strap of her small purse from one finger. After a minute she sighed. “Fine. It has to be
better than staying here in the animal kingdom.” She looked at Declan. “Did you know she has a pet mole?”

  “It’s a Sphinx,” said Charlotte.

  “Get your things,” said Declan. “We’ll drive you over there.”

  “Maybe Simone can help us figure out our next move,” added Seamus as Stephanie walked past him to grab her suitcases.

  Stephanie returned a few minutes later and they piled into Declan’s car.

  They drove out of Pineapple Port and down the street to Silver Lake. Seamus let the guard know they were on their way to see Simone and he gave them a temporary pass.

  “If it isn’t Parking Pass Pete!” said Charlotte, leaning across Stephanie to wave at the guard. Pete lived in Pineapple Port and had earned the nickname Parking Pass thanks to his security job at Silver Lake.

  “Well, hello there, Charlotte,” said Pete.

  “For the love of Pete, do you know every old person in Florida?” asked Stephanie, pushing Charlotte back and away from her.

  Charlotte grimaced and sat back. “Really going to miss you.”

  Declan drove to Simone’s house and they headed up the stairs to her front door with Stephanie lagging behind. Seamus knocked and Simone answered.

  “I brought the girl,” he said.

  “Come in.” She threw a dishtowel over her shoulder as she led the way. “I have something on the stove. Make yourselves at home for a moment.”

  Simone slipped back into the kitchen as the others gathered in the living room. Stephanie dragged her first suitcase through the door and Seamus closed it behind her.

  “Thanks for the help,” she muttered.

  “My pleasure.”

  “Seamus, could you help me with something in the kitchen?” called Simone from the other room in a thick French accent.

  Seamus looked at Charlotte, who flashed him what she hoped was a look of disapproval.

  He shrugged to imply he was helpless. “Sure,” he called back and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Simone appeared a few minutes later.

  “Can I get anyone anything to drink?”

  Stephanie gasped and all heads turned to look.

  “Are you okay dear?” asked Simone. “You look pale.”

  “My...my foot,” said Stephanie. “My ankle buckled a little. I’m okay now.”

  “You do look pale,” said Charlotte. “Are you sure you’re okay?”