Against the Claw

by Shari Randall

  I slid into the booth and a server put a glass of water in front of me.

  “Having lunch?” she asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Another beer?” she said to Ken. He nodded.

  I didn’t know where to start but Ken jumped in.

  “I heard someone was taken away by ambulance at Harmony Harbor. Was that your sister? Is she all right?”

  “Yes, she’s okay. Thank you.” I didn’t think she was actually okay but I didn’t want to talk about it.

  “What a crazy situation.” Ken shoveled in the last of his fish and French fries. His sunglasses slipped and he set them back on his head. His hazel eyes were surrounded by the telltale white raccoon rings of sailors and others who spent long hours on the water in the sun. “I left you guys at the Model, went home to bed, came back to work in the morning, then the, well, you-know-what hit the fan.”

  He nodded his thanks as the server brought his beer.

  “Did you talk to the police?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but didn’t have much to tell them, except—” He gulped his beer. “Well, it was nothing.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Cops asked if I noticed anything unusual. Well, yeah, some guest took out one of the kayaks after the party and left it on the beach. Some clothes left on the beach, too. And well”—Ken glanced away—“that you guys were drinking on your way over to the yacht.” He gulped his drink.

  Great. “You had to be honest.”

  “Tell the truth and shame the devil, that’s what my gran told me.”

  I wondered what he was thinking. Probably that I could be a murderer.

  Ken raised his eyebrows. His hazel eyes were keen.

  This was an exchange. If I gave him some information, he’d give me some information. I signaled to the waitress to bring Ken another beer. I considered what to tell him, and then told him the bare bones, leaving out the gun and Lorel’s hysterics. “We got up and found that RHI tied to the back of the yacht. Called the police.”

  “And you knew Patrick?” Ken said.

  “My sister was in his class at Mystic Bay High School.” I wasn’t going into any more detail. “You know what’s weird? Where did he get that RHI? He and his brother, Hayden, own a lobster boat, Miranda, they bought from my dad.”

  Ken nodded. “Not very stealthy, pulling up in a lobster boat. Those RHIs are quick. Maneuverable. Hard to see, if that’s what you’re after.”

  We sat in silence as the waitress set the beer in front of him.

  “Like all those movies with the Navy SEALs.” Ken chewed a toothpick.

  “Did you know Patrick?” I said.

  Ken looked away. “Seen him around, you know? Everybody went to New Salt for drinks, that kind of thing.”

  Maybe Ken had some secrets of his own. I wondered if “that kind of thing” was drugs. “Have you worked for Stellene Lupo long?” I sipped my water, hoping the change of subject and beer would relax him enough to let his guard down.

  “Started out working for Mr. Lupo.” In the bright sunshine streaming from the window, Ken’s hair was shot through liberally with gray and a thin scar looped from the side of his mouth to his chin. “Took care of his sailboats. He had some wonderful vessels.” Ken’s expression was dreamy. “Liked to sail with his little girl, Tinsley. Nothing scared her. Little reckless, that one, to tell the truth. She capsized more times than I can count. But after Mr. Lupo died we sold the sailboats. Mrs. Lupo likes to kayak, so does Tinsley. We keep the vintage motor craft but mainly she likes those for photo shoots.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  He nodded. “Mrs. Lupo got the yacht a year or so back. Helped her sail it down to Miami. She even did a photo shoot on it. Lots of models that day.” Ken’s grin was lopsided, wolfish. “Mrs. Lupo has been good to work for.”

  “You know,” I said, “I wondered why she didn’t have it at the dock at Harmony Harbor. The yacht, I mean.”

  “Model Sailor drafts too much for Harmony Harbor,” he explained. The water was too shallow for such a large vessel. “She’s berthed at the marina usually. But for the last couple of months Stellene’s kept her anchored out.” He sipped his beer and looked away, again avoiding my eyes.

  Ken was an old, loyal employee. Would he tell me everything he knew, even if it was something his employer didn’t want known? Was his loyalty to Kurt Lupo or to the woman who sold his beloved sailboats? I didn’t move, just kept my eyes on his face and let the silence stretch.

  “Not mine to question. But Mrs. Lupo wants to be alone, like that old movie star. Greta Garbo. Sometimes.” He hesitated.

  I held my breath.

  “She had visitors at the boat.” Ken looked away. “Not sure who, she sent us away when she had company. But one night I was sure I saw an RHI heading over to Model as I returned to our dock.”

  An RHI. Just like the one where Patrick Yardley died.

  Chapter 27

  A look of relief crossed Aunt Gully’s face as I stepped through the back door of the Mermaid.

  I looped on my apron. “Work’s the best medicine, right, Aunt Gully?”

  She nodded. “Lorel called. She’s up. She decided to work from home on her social media stuff.”

  Not picking lobster. Spreadsheets and social media, those were Lorel’s medicines.

  “Aggie’s sitting with her.” Aunt Gully stirred some spices into her Lobster Love sauce. “I didn’t want her to be alone.”

  I hid my smile. Spreadsheets would be much more fun than teatime with Aggie Weatherburn.

  Aunt Gully, Hector, and I fell into an easy rhythm: live lobster into the steamer, plunged into cold water to cool the shell, onto the stainless steel table where we separated the meat from the shell, then layered into golden brown hot dog buns and topped with Aunt Gully’s Lobster Love sauce. Repeat. We were so busy that the lunch rush flew past and I was able to keep my thoughts distant from what had happened on Model Sailor.

  But like a bad dream I couldn’t shake, I couldn’t push away thoughts of the Girl with the Pitchfork Tattoo. Who was she? What had she been doing in Mystic Bay?

  “Okay if I take a break, Aunt Gully?”

  Aunt Gully shooed me out. “Of course, honey. I’ve got some Gals coming in soon.”

  My phone buzzed with a text from Bronwyn as I got in the van: Tox report back for drowned girl. She overdosed.

  Slowly I slid the phone back in my pocket. I’d assumed the girl had drowned. This news shook me.

  What had happened in her last moments? Had she been at a party on a boat and slipped overboard, under the influence of whatever she’d taken? What about her friends? Had they noticed she was missing? Or had her friends dumped her in the water, hoping she’d disappear on the tide?

  Or had she been alone, wanting to end it all?

  I mulled this over as I drove to Verity’s shop.

  Two red beach cruiser bicycles complete with woven baskets leaned against the wall outside Verity’s shop. A little bouquet of black-eyed Susans peeked from one of the baskets. Picture perfect.

  The sleigh bells jingled as I went in.

  “Allie!” Verity put down a handful of men’s ties and wrapped me in a hug. “How are you? Why didn’t you answer my calls? How’s Lorel?”

  I lowered my voice. “She’s better. Honestly, I’m still just numb.”

  A guy in a tight black T-shirt and jeans peeked around a rack of men’s clothing.

  “Henry!” My hand flew to the neck of my sweaty work T-shirt.

  Henry Small pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “We meet again. How are you, Allie?” He touched my arm gently. “How’s your sister?”

  “I’m fine. Lorel’s okay.” The perfect bicycles registered. “Did you guys ride over here from Harmony Harbor?”

  “We’re here till Eden’s done with the show. Stellene hasn’t kicked us out, yet. It’s strained.” Henry scrubbed the back of his head, tousling his hair. “Stellene blames everything on Eden wantin
g to go out to the boat. She said something about having a guest island but—”

  “Cat Island?”

  He nodded. “But Stellene says there’s a problem with the plumbing. You’d think she’d just call a plumber, right? It’s her way of telling us to go. We’ve overstayed our welcome at the mansion, that’s for sure.”

  Verity’s eyes widened as she watched us talk.

  “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into all this,” Henry said.

  “Me, too.” I almost laughed at Verity’s surprised expression. “Henry, this is my friend Verity Brooks.”

  Henry and Verity shook hands. “Nice to meet you.” Verity’s expression went soft and dreamy. She held on to Henry’s hand a moment too long.

  Eden parted the emerald drapes that enclosed Verity’s dressing room. She wore a baseball cap pulled low over her forehead and large sunglasses that screamed “incognito.”

  She put a poufy black silk Victorian gown on the counter. Its jet beading sparkled in the light, reflecting off a huge gilt-edged mirror behind Verity’s showcase of estate jewelry.

  “Allie!” She gave me a quick hug. I introduced her to Verity.

  “You all were on the boat together.” Verity reached behind the counter for a large cardboard box, but her hands shook and tissue paper scattered on the floor. She bent to retrieve it.

  “Yeah.” Henry’s blue eyes were troubled. “Did the cops talk to you, Allie?”

  “Just one. I think they got what they needed from me but they’re still gathering evidence. And when they’re done they’ll probably arrest Lorel.”

  Henry shook his head, his brow wrinkled.

  Eden leaned close. “Allie, when we had the gun—”

  Verity knocked the box off the countertop.

  Eden pulled me away from Verity. She, Henry, and I huddled near a rack of mod minidresses.

  “You didn’t touch it? The gun?” Henry said in a low voice.

  “No,” I said.

  “Just the rest of us,” Eden said. “Me, Henry, Lorel.”

  “I heard popping sounds that night. They must have been gunshots. I wonder if that’s the gun that killed Patrick,” I whispered.

  We shared a long look.

  “Some people who were in here—” Eden took her hat off and fanned herself with it— “said that the killer had to be someone on the yacht.” The sunlight streaming in Verity’s shop window highlighted the multiple silver studs in Eden’s ears, her round cheeks, the narrow space between her front teeth.

  “Of course that’s not true. We didn’t even know the guy,” Henry said.

  I stared out into the street. Patrick’s killer had to have followed him to the boat. That meant two people came to the boat in the middle of the night, Patrick and someone else. Who would want to rendezvous with Patrick Yardley?

  “You’re a million miles away,” Eden said.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said. “Just thinking that anyone with a boat could have gotten out there.”

  “Right? Remember when we took that beautiful motorboat out there? All those people were out there watching the fireworks.” Eden folded her arms. “I mean, Henry and I were saying you and your sister were too nice to shoot someone. Plus, we were all hammered with that champagne. I don’t know about you but I fell asleep like that.” Eden snapped her fingers.

  “Yeah, you don’t drink much, so it hit you hard,” Henry said.

  Verity’s door bells jingled and two women entered. Eden put on her baseball cap and turned her back toward them.

  Verity folded the beaded dress. “I can deliver this to you.” Her voice sounded hopeful.

  “You’ve got those bikes, right?” I caught Verity’s eye. “It’d be hard to carry that bulky box on a bike. Verity and I can drive the dress over for you.” Delivering the dress would be a perfect excuse to get into Harmony Harbor. I had questions for Tinsley and Stellene, especially now that Hayden had told me about Patrick being Stellene’s drug connection.

  Another thought made me pause. Perhaps there was another reason Stellene didn’t want Tinsley to mention Patrick. What if Tinsley was another one of Patrick’s girlfriends? What if Stellene was? Would that give them a motive to kill Patrick?

  “Isn’t this dress a bit different for you?” Verity asked Eden.

  “I need a different image for the next album. I want to look serious.” Eden threw me a mischievous look. “Serious as a German soprano.”

  Henry edged into the narrow space behind Verity’s counter and reached for a top hat on a high shelf. The mirror reflected his tattooed, muscular arms and broad chest. A red blush traveled up Verity’s neck and face. I smothered a laugh, but I’d been admiring him, too.

  Then I had the oddest feeling I was back on Queenie, the floorboards rocking under my feet. I reached out for the display case to steady myself.

  “Awesome hat.” Henry caught my eye in the mirror and grinned. “What do you think?”

  I looked down, disoriented and blushing.

  “Awesome,” Verity whispered.

  “Awesomely ridiculous.” Eden said.

  “I’ll take it.” Henry handed it to Verity with a flourish.

  “I’ll see you at the theater, Allie,” Eden whispered.

  “We’ll bring the dress and hat to Harmony Harbor.” Verity had a death grip on the box. “Please let them know.”

  I tried not to laugh. Verity was going to deliver that box herself come hell or high water.

  “I’m texting Stellene right now.” Eden bent over her phone. “Done.”

  Henry handed Verity a credit card. She dropped it and Henry bent to pick it up.

  I shifted away from the customers and whispered, “Why did you decide to do Ondine?”

  Eden sighed. “For Lars. He wrote the score. Don’t know how the fans will take it, but it was a labor of love. We wanted to do it someplace where I could be”—she waved a hand—“not me. And that guy wanted to come to Mystic Bay.” She jutted her chin at Henry.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, this whole thing started because Stellene has a thing for real people as models. She saw Henry and asked him to do—”

  “The beer ad,” I said.

  Eden nodded. “I told Stellene Lars was writing a show for me. Stellene said Broadway by the Bay would be a perfect venue. And then Henry told me he wanted to visit”—she hesitated—“an old friend up here.” She cleared her throat then chuckled. “Turns out that it was all just Stellene’s master plan to get us up here to play her Fourth of July picnic. The woman’s a genius at getting what she wants.”

  Stellene gets what Stellene wants.

  Murmuring voices outside made me turn. Several faces pressed up against the window. Eden’s fans had found her.

  “Oh, no,” Eden said. “How will we get to our bikes?”

  I thought quickly. “Forget the bikes. I can drive you back to Harmony Harbor in my aunt’s van.”

  “Oh, thank you! But first would you take us to your aunt’s lobster shack?” Eden said. “If it’s not too much trouble? I want to get a lobster roll before I go back. Then I can have a car come for us from Harmony Harbor.”

  “Sure.” With handsome Henry? No trouble at all. “The van’s parked just outside the back door. Hide in the backseat. I’ll be right there.”

  “Good-bye, Verity. Thank you.” Henry waved.

  “Good-bye, Henry. I’ll deliver the box as soon as I can.” Verity sighed and waved.

  Eden and Henry slipped out the back of the store.

  I whispered the plan to Verity while she rang up a necklace for one of the ladies.

  “Wish I was going with you.” She sighed. “But I’ve got to watch the shop. The life of an entrepreneur.”

  The shop door burst open and a chattering mob of people spilled inside, cell phones at the ready.

  As casually as I could, I walked to the back of the store and yanked the green drapes closed on the dressing room.

  I hustled to the van. Eden and Henry sat on the floor in fron
t of the bench seat. Henry rooted in a carton marked Fourth of July Decorations.

  I eased the van into the street. The crowd in front of Verity’s shop had swelled to a mob that spilled off the sidewalk. A police car pulled up to the curb by the fire hydrant.

  “The life of a star, right, Hil?” Henry put a foam Lady Liberty crown on Eden’s hat.

  “Hil?” I said.

  Eden elbowed Henry. “Giving away my secrets. Well, I confess. I was born Hilda. Just like an old farm wife.”

  I smiled. The name suited her better than Eden. “I’m Allegra and my sister’s Lorelei.”

  Eden laughed. “You two didn’t win the normal-names sweepstakes, either. Yep, as soon as I could, I changed my name.”

  In the rearview mirror I watched Henry drape himself in a red, white, and blue lei. Eden started singing a cheesy seventies tune about piña coladas. Henry sang along, his voice deep and pleasant. I drove slowly, making the song last, and pulled up to the back door of the Mermaid. “I’ll be right back.”

  “We’ve got some company, Aunt Gully.” I explained the situation to Aunt Gully and Hector, then gathered Lazy Mermaid aprons, T-shirts, and a Gully’s Gals hairnet.

  I hurried back to the van and handed the clothes through the window. “If you look like you work here, maybe no one will bother you.” Maybe. Henry and Eden slipped on the clothes, Eden’s laugh ringing as she put on the bedazzled hairnet.

  Aunt Gully brought out two overflowing lobster rolls. “How awful you can’t even eat a meal in peace. You two just relax and enjoy.”

  Hector set two frosty bottles of lemonade on the picnic table. With his bald head, gold earring, and body-builder muscles, Hector was the last person I’d expect to be tongue-tied around Eden, but he was, instead smiling like a goofy teenager.

  “Hector plays your songs all the time.” I didn’t mention that he played her music for the lobsters. Aunt Gully was convinced that music soothed the lobsters before they met their fate in the steamer. Aunt Gully sang to them, Hector played music.

  Eden kissed his cheek. “Hector, thank you. How about a selfie?” Hector held his phone at very muscular arm’s length as Eden briefly removed her sunglasses and looped her arm around him.