Overboard on the Ocean

by Ellen Jacobson

  As she walked into the lobby, I decided that Sylvia wouldn’t be the only person Chief Dalton would be speaking to tomorrow. I had a few questions for him as well. For example, if you wanted to electrocute someone with a phone charger, how would you go about it?

  * * *

  “Mollie, you need to get yourself down to the police station. Pronto,” Charmaine Buttercup barked at me the next morning. I squinted at my phone. What time was it?

  Rubbing my eyes, I sat up in bed and pressed the phone back to my ear. “What’s going on?”

  “The chief looks like he’s going to explode,” she said. “You’ll never guess who just barged into his office with a stack of wedding magazines.”

  “Sylvia.” I sighed. Wedding planning seemed to be how Sylvia coped with her grief. And Anthony’s death would have her reeling.

  “But wait, that’s not the best part. She brought a parrot with her. A trained parrot.”

  “It’s seven in the morning,” I said. “Where did she get a trained parrot at this hour?”

  “Heaven only knows.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What exactly is the parrot trained to do? Is it an emotional support animal?”

  “No, it’s for weddings. When the bride and groom are ready to exchange rings, the bird swoops in, wedding bands clutched in its beak. After it drops them in the minister’s hand, it calls out, ‘Pretty bride, pretty bride,’ ‘I do, I do,’ and ‘Nice kitty-cat, nice kitty-cat.’”

  “What do cats have to do with exchanging rings?” I asked.

  “I didn’t ask. Maybe the bird’s trainer also has a cat—” Charmaine suddenly yelped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That creature just tried to land on my head. Get down here now!” she said before ending the call.

  When I got to the station, I had to bite back a smile. Charmaine and the parrot were having a stand-off. She was holding her ground on one side of her desk, her arms folded across her chest and her hair sticking up in all directions. The parrot was perched on a coat stand, squawking, “Pretty lady, pretty lady.”

  When the bird swooped at her, Charmaine ducked not a moment too soon, just missing her. After it circled back to the coat stand, Charmaine stood and jabbed a finger in the parrot’s direction. “Ha ha, you missed. Better luck next time.”

  I pointed toward the chief’s office, and Charmaine nodded before engaging in another round with her nemesis. After taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door.

  “Enter,” Chief Dalton said brusquely.

  Sylvia beamed at me when I walked in, patting the chair next to her. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Me?” I squeaked, worried that she had plans for me and the parrot.

  “What do you think about wearing an eye patch?”

  “An eye patch? Um, why?”

  “Well, since you and the bridesmaids are going to be dressed as pirate wenches, I thought an eye patch would be a cute touch.” She held up her hand. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. Eye patches aren’t very feminine, but it’s going to be made of pink lace to match your petticoat.”

  “Ah, this explains the parrot.” I turned to the chief. “So you’re going with a pirate themed wedding now?”

  He scowled. “Can you please explain to your friend that I have no intention of wearing any outfit that includes a peg leg and a sword?”

  “This sounds more like something Ben would do if he ever got married,” I said.

  Sylvia’s eyes lit up. “Ben? Ben Morretti? That’s the young man who suggested the idea.”

  “Ben is a bit obsessed with pirates,” I said.

  “I’m going to kill him,” the chief muttered.

  I put my hand on Sylvia’s arm. “Chief Dalton is a pretty busy man. Tell you what, why don’t you and I go have breakfast, then we can brainstorm some other ideas for the wedding?”

  “Breakfast sounds good. I’ve been craving a spinach salad.” After she got to her feet and stowed the wedding magazines back in her bag, she turned to the chief. “Didn’t you want to talk to me about Anthony?”

  The chief looked torn. On one hand, he needed to follow-up with her regarding Anthony’s death. On the other, he was probably terrified that Sylvia would take the opportunity to turn the conversation back to the wedding.

  His professionalism won out. “Yes, I have a few questions. A few formalities really.”

  Sylvia settled back in her chair and looked at him expectantly. “Go ahead.”

  The chief pulled a file folder toward him and opened it. “This is probably a long shot, but do you know when and where Mr. Wright purchased his cell phone charger?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

  “I seem to remember some sort of discussion on the cruise about some new phone chargers the company had been sent to test out,” I said. “Could it have been one of those?”

  “I have no idea,” she said. “Fletcher didn’t discuss business with me.”

  The chief made a note, then looked back at Sylvia. “Was Mr. Wright in the habit of listening to music on his phone.”

  “I guess.” Sylvia furrowed her brow. “I think he was more into audiobooks.”

  Chief Dalton nodded. “He would wear headphones when he listened to them?”

  “Most of the time,” Sylvia said. “I don’t think Madison liked his choice of books, so he didn’t play them on the speakers very often. She is into historical romance and he always pooh-poohed her taste in fiction.”

  “What kind of books did he listen to?” I asked.

  Chief Dalton frowned. “Mrs. McGhie,” he cautioned.

  I leaned back in my chair and made a motion of zipping my lips closed.

  “He liked thrillers,” Sylvia said.

  “And what kind of headphones would he use?” the chief asked.

  Sylvia shrugged. “The kind you stick in your ears.”

  “So earbuds, not headphones,” I said.

  The chief glared at me, then looked back at Sylvia. “Can you describe what your nephew’s earbuds looked like?”

  “I believe they were white.” Sylvia fiddled with her necklace. “Why are you asking so many questions about Anthony’s ear buds? Was that how he was electrocuted? Through his earbuds?”

  “We won’t know the official cause of death until we get the coroner’s report back,” the chief said.

  “But you have an unofficial idea, don’t you?” I asked.

  The chief spread his hands in front of him. “I can’t really say.”

  Sylvia pursed her lips. “But it was an accident, right?”

  “I need to speak with Mr. Wright’s fiancée,” the chief said, not answering her question. “Is she still at the hotel?”

  “Madison wasn’t his fiancée. She wasn’t actually part of the family yet,” Sylvia said quietly. Then she fixed her gaze on the chief. “What color was the phone charger that Anthony was using?”

  The chief hesitated for a moment, then said, “Green.”

  Sylvia rubbed her temples, then looked at me. “Is it okay if we skip breakfast? I think I need to lie down for a while.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Do you have any more questions?” she asked the chief.

  “I think that will do it for now.”

  As he escorted Sylvia to the door of his office, she turned to him and said, “The two of you made it clear that you didn’t want a fancy wedding. This pirate theme is the perfect alternative. Casual, fun, and a bit quirky. What do you think about having Anabel walk the plank instead of marching down the aisle? Do you think they’d let us build a mock pirate ship inside the church?”

  Chief Dalton’s jaw dropped. “Walk the plank?” he spluttered.

  “I’ll leave you to look into that, okay?” She patted his arm, then gave me a wave before leaving his office.

  The chief was speechless for a few moments, then he poked his head into the hallway and yelled after her, “Don’t forget your parrot.”

  14
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  Underwater Basket Weaving

  “Anthony’s death wasn’t an accident, was it?” I asked Chief Dalton.

  “That would depend on what your definition of an accident is.”

  Shaking my head at his cryptic answer, I did a quick search on my phone. “According to this, ‘an accident is an unfortunate incident that happens unexpectedly and unintentionally.’ So my question is, was Anthony’s death intentional?”

  The chief grabbed a highlighter from his pencil holder. “I know you like pens. If I give this to you, will you go away?”

  “Pink is not my favorite color.”

  “Fine. Blue then?”

  “Yep, I like blue.” When he thrust the pen into my hand, I added, “So to recap our conversation—”

  The chief pointed at his door. “I thought we had an agreement. You get a pen and I get peace and quiet.”

  Ignoring his interruption, I continued, “As I was saying, Anthony was electrocuted. Last night you said it was his phone charger, but today, you asked Sylvia about Anthony’s ear buds. How exactly does electrocution work?” I grabbed a blank piece of paper from the printer on top of the file cabinet next to the chief’s desk. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course not. Please, help yourself.”

  After scrawling down ‘electrocution’ on the top of the page using my new highlighter, I drew a rough sketch of an electrical outlet, phone charger, cell phone, and earbuds underneath. “Let’s see, power comes in from the outlet, through the charger, into the cell phone, and pops out through the earbuds.”

  “Did you just describe power as ‘popping out’?”

  “Hey, it’s not like I went to college to study electrical engineering.”

  Chief Dalton bit back a smile. “No, somehow I can’t picture you with an engineering degree. What did you major in?”

  “It’s not important.” I thrust the paper onto his desk and pointed at my sketch. “Focus on this.”

  “Underwater basket weaving. That was it, wasn’t it?”

  I shook my head. “How about if we make a deal? You give me your undivided attention for the next ten minutes and then I’ll tell you what I majored in.”

  “You’re not exactly reliable when it comes to deals.” He pointed at the highlighter in my hand. “But I know from experience that you’re not going to leave my office until you’ve had your say.”

  I pointed at my sketch. “Now, if there was a power surge that came through the outlet, then Anthony’s death could have been an unfortunate accident. I assume that they’re checking the wiring at the bed-and-breakfast, but I bet they won’t find any issues with it. We didn’t have a lightning storm yesterday, and I’d guess that there weren’t any issues on the power company’s end.”

  The chief nodded his head ever so slightly. “Go on.”

  Indicating the picture I had drawn of the phone charger, I said, “This could be the problem. If it was one of those cheap counterfeit chargers, it might not have been able to prevent electric shock.”

  “That could be the cause.” The chief held up his hand when I leaned forward. “I’m not saying it is. Just speculating, that’s all. But if it was the cause, then it was still an unfortunate accident.”

  I grabbed a yellow highlighter from the pencil holder, then drew a circle around the phone charger for emphasis. “Unless someone deliberately gave it to Anthony to use, because they knew it could be hazardous.”

  Chief Dalton looked skeptical. “That’s not a very smart way to murder someone. Give them a charger and hope that it kills them. While counterfeit chargers can cause electric shock, it’s still pretty rare.”

  “But what if the killer upped the odds by doing something to the charger? I don’t know, messed with the wiring somehow?” I tapped the highlighter on the table. “Now, let’s see, who knows enough about phone chargers to do something like that?”

  When the chief didn’t respond, I said, “Do you want me to give you a hint? His name starts with an ‘H’ like, say, Herbert.”

  “Why would Herbert Miller have murdered him? From what I understand, the two men came to an amicable agreement about the company.”

  “Amicable, yeah right,” I scoffed. “Herbert decided to alter the terms of their agreement, permanently. It would have taken some planning on his part, though. He had to swap out the chargers and . . .” My voice trailed off as I pondered the scenario. Finally, I sighed. “Actually, there still is a big element of chance. How could Herbert have been sure that Anthony would use his phone while it was charging? How could he have been sure the electrical shock would have been strong enough to kill him?”

  Chief Dalton cocked his head to one side and smirked. “That underwater basket weaving degree of yours sure isn’t helping here.”

  “Your sarcasm isn’t helping either,” I retorted. Then my eyes widened. “Where exactly was Anthony when he died?”

  “In his cottage at the bed-and-breakfast,” the chief said.

  “Where exactly in the cottage?” I made a quick sketch on the piece of paper, then jabbed my finger at it. “Was he in here?”

  The chief raised an eyebrow. “What is that? A frog?”

  “No, it’s a bathtub. Anthony loved taking long, hot baths in the mornings. Was he listening to his phone while he was in the tub? Was his phone plugged in at the time? Even a first grader knows that electricity and water are a deadly combination.”

  Chief Dalton shrugged. “No comment.”

  I scooped up my new highlighter, folded up the piece of paper and stuck them in my purse. “That’s fine. I have other ways of getting to the bottom of this.” I started to walk down the hallway to the reception area, but doubled back to stick my head in the chief’s office. “Did you want me to tell Sylvia that it’s all systems go for a pirate wedding?”

  * * *

  After Charmaine’s early morning wake-up call and having to deal with Chief Dalton’s evasiveness, I needed a hefty dose of chocolate. Naturally, I headed to the library.

  “Any news on the job interview?” I asked Hudson as I examined the chocolate selection. It looked like there had been a recent run on the candy bars, so I had to settle for a dark chocolate pomegranate one. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers.

  Hudson waited until a mom and her two pre-school aged kids walked into the children’s reading room, then leaned over the counter. “I had it on Friday. No news back yet, but I think it went okay.”

  “Were you nervous?” I asked.

  “So nervous, but I did some breathing exercises and meditation before the interview. That helped a lot.”

  “I’ve never meditated. You’re not supposed to think about anything, right? My mind gets distracted easily. I doubt that it would cooperate.”

  “I was the same way at first. But you just have to practice. There’s a great app you can try.” Hudson pulled it up on his phone and showed it to me. “It has different types of guided meditations, including some for beginners.”

  “That looks like the app Scooter has on his phone,” I said. “Sometimes, I wonder if my husband has been replaced by an alien. If you had mentioned meditation to him a year ago, he would have scoffed. Now he seems to have gone all New Age on me. Next thing you know he’ll be burning scented candles and wearing crystals around his neck.”

  “Meditation is pretty mainstream these days. Even some high-powered business types on Wall Street meditate before they close an important deal. It’s not just for hippies and celebrities.” Hudson cocked his head to one side. “To be honest, I would have thought you’d be open to this sort of thing. It seems like it’s right up your alley.”

  I held up my hand. “Oh, I’m open to it. It just surprised me to find out that Scooter is into it. But it seems to have worked wonders when it comes to his ability to deal with, um, let’s just say, more gruesome things.”

  “Gruesome things? Like murder?” Hudson asked wryly. “By the way, what’s going on with the
investigation? My aunt hasn’t mentioned anything about it lately.”

  “Which murder are you referring to?”

  Hudson’s body tensed. “There’s more than one? When did this latest one happen?”

  “Yesterday during Anabel’s party.”

  “One of the guests was killed … That’s horrible. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I mean someone was killed, and it is horrible, but it wasn’t one of the women at the party.”

  “Then who died?” Hudson asked, his shoulders relaxing.

  “Do you remember Sylvia, the wedding planner? The one who got in a fight with her husband here at the library?” Hudson nodded. “Well, she was at Anabel’s party. Chief Dalton was on the island as well. He got a call that her nephew, Anthony, had been killed and he informed her.”

  “Oh, that poor lady. First she lost her husband and now her nephew.” Hudson chewed on his lip. “I’m really surprised that Aunt Nancy didn’t get on the phone right away to tell me about it. Two murders in, what, less than a week? That’s the kind of thing she’s all over.”

  “It was actually a little more than a week, but who’s counting?”

  Hudson smiled. “Other than the entire town of Coconut Cove? You do realize that people keep track of this sort of thing. Especially my aunt.”

  “Nancy doesn’t know that it was murder. That’s why she didn’t call you. Anthony was electrocuted while he was taking a bath. Everyone just assumes it was an accident.” I pointed at Hudson’s phone. “He was listening to an audiobook at the time.”

  Hudson grimaced. “Yikes. That sounds like a horrific way to go.”

  “It makes the top ten list, for sure,” I said.

  “You’ve become quite the expert in death, haven’t you?”

  I furrowed my brow. “You make it sound like I’m the Grim Reaper.”

  “No, you just have an unlucky tendency to stumble across dead bodies,” he said.

  “Well, I didn’t find Anthony. So, thankfully, that won’t get added to my body count.” I pursed my lips. “I still can’t believe people keep track of that sort of thing.”