by Shelly West
Her eyes wandered over to Sally’s Book Cafe. It was right in view of the Lafayette, which reminded Abigail about Sally’s guilty pleasure of watching Dag work.
Abigail knew what she had to do. She’d swing by the Book Cafe for something to eat, then talk Sally into chatting up Dag with her.
Abigail got out of her car and followed the sweet aroma of pastries and coffee. She stepped into the Book Cafe to find Sally putting away coffee appliances.
Before Sally turned to see her guest, she said, “Sorry, closing up for the day.” Then she saw who it was. “Abigail! I didn’t expect you to come by. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Likewise. Could I possibly trouble you for a snack before you close? I only had a sandwich today so I’m famished.”
“Perfect, I’ll fix up something for us both. Coffee? As black as a deep-sea abyss, of course.”
“Of course.”
Sally pulled out her French press. “Busy day?”
Abigail took a seat at the counter. “Yeah. Let’s just say Grandma and I have done a bit of sleuthing.”
Sally’s eyes grew big and she lowered her voice. “In regards to the murder? Have you found any leads?”
“A few. Nothing concrete yet, but the next place I’m snooping is right across the street.”
Sally pondered for a moment. “The Lafayette?”
“You got it.”
“Oh, Dag isn’t a suspect, is he?” With a concerned furrow of her brows, Sally looked braced for devastation.
“No, but maybe he knows something.”
Sally let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I don’t know what I’d do without my eye candy. He’s so dreamy, the way he works that ship.”
“Why don’t you tag along? I’m gonna feel pretty awkward getting a tour of the Lafayette all by myself.”
Sally’s skin flushed and she turned to tend to the French press. “I couldn’t. I’ll become a blubbering fool in front of him…”
“No, it’d be the perfect distraction. I kinda want to investigate every nook and cranny of that ship, since it seems to have some significance in whatever transpired with Reginald. But I can’t do that unless somebody keeps Dag distracted for me…”
Sally wrung her hands. “I’ve never really talked to him before. Just watched from afar. It’ll be so awkward!”
“The more awkward the better. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Sally served Abigail a cup of black coffee, along with a blueberry scone. She nibbled at her own scone as she contemplated it. “Oh, fine. If you insist. You really are Granny’s granddaughter. You can get people to agree to anything.”
“Hey, who knows, maybe you two will hit it off.” Abigail smirked then tried the scone. It was perfectly sweet and soft, much to her surprise. “Wow. The scones I’ve had in the past are usually drier than hardtack.”
“I make my scones to serve. The freshest you’ll ever have.”
“I’ll say.” Abigail indulged herself with the filling treat, periodically taking a sip of coffee that had a complementary hint of berries in its aroma. Soon she was filled up, giving her newfound vigor. “All right, let’s do this. My third interview for the day.”
“Wow. You should be a PI.”
“I sort of am. Well, I’m an insurance claims adjuster, which is like a really boring version of a PI. Shall we head out?”
Sally finished her scone, took in a deep breath, then said, “Yeah. Just promise to save me if I make a total buffoon out of myself.”
Abigail didn’t have much experience as a wingman—or wingwoman, rather—but she’d do her best. “Just be yourself, Sally, and I’m sure he’ll be delighted.”
Sally blushed and followed Abigail out, locking the door behind them.
*
Abigail and Sally stopped in front of the ship, staring up at its massive masts. “It looks even bigger up close,” Abigail said, and Sally nodded in silent agreement.
No tourists in sight. Just them, the creaking ship, and the soft splashes of the sea.
That was when Dag popped out of what looked to be the Captain’s Quarters. He was a stout man, but muscular, tanned, and bearded, his long hair tied back in a braid. Though he looked gruff on the surface, his baby blue eyes had a young and friendly look to them. “Visitors!” he announced, heading for the gangway.
Sally made a move to turn and run, but Abigail caught her elbow and brought her back in. “Hi,” Abigail said, trying to sound perky and unsuspecting. “Is this a bad time for a tour?”
Dag shook his head. “It’s as good a time as any. This time of day, this day of the week, you’ve got the whole ship to yourself.”
Perfect. Abigail headed up the wooden gangway, holding onto the rails for dear life as she stole a quick glance at the water below, before finally stepping foot onto the swaying ship. “Wow,” she said, the view from the deck really giving her a feel for the size of the Lafayette. “This boat’s like straight out of a movie.”
Dag shrugged. “She’s been in a few. So before I show you around, what’s your names?”
Abigail stuck out her hand in greeting. “I’m Abigail, Mrs. Lane’s granddaughter.” Dag gave her a hearty handshake. “And I assume you know Sally?”
Dag cocked his head, studying Sally’s sheepish face. “Only seen her from afar, peering at me from her shop window.” He winked at her, and Sally’s cheeks grew redder.
Sally said, trying to rescue her own dignity, “I’m just a fan of the ship. Maybe from far away it seems like I’m staring at you, but no, I’m not! That would be totally creepy of me.” She laughed forcefully.
Dag snickered and winked. “What was I thinking? Of course you were enamored by the Lafayette. So why don’t I give you a more intimate look at her? I’m Dag Madsen, by the way. Brother of Kirby Madsen, who runs the Madsen Candlepin Lanes down the road.”
He then led the way down the other side of the deck, where they got a nice view of the sea and the many islands that served as a buffer for the town’s coastline. “You see those islands?” he asked, and the two nodded. “Very rocky waters around them. Most captains steer clear of the islands, but this ship had famously dropped anchor near the islands unharmed. This was back before depth gauges made it easier to find safe routes.”
Abigail wondered, “What made the Lafayette able to do that?”
“A good captain and a unique ship design. The Lafayette can offload her ballast so she draws less water. Her keel is also retractable.”
To Abigail, that sounded like a lot of trouble to get to those islands. She asked, “Anything of interest there?”
“Just beauty. They’re mostly untouched by man, given their difficult accessibility. The Lafayette makes trips down there on special occasions, during high tide. Not really open to the public though, since we want to preserve the islands.”
Dag turned and motioned they follow him up the steep stairs to the front of the ship. “Come, I’ll show you the part everyone wants to see.”
Once they cleared the stairs, Abigail saw what he was referring to. A polished and intricately carved wheel protruded out from the middle of the deck, its size and beauty a thing to behold.
Dag gave them a mischievous look. “I usually don’t tell the tourists this, but since it’s just you two…” He pointed at the center of the wheel, which had a carved scene of a whale and an octopus duking it out. “This isn’t just decoration,” he suggested, then motioned that they touch it.
Sally caressed the wood carving while Abigail leaned in for a closer look. She noticed some grooves and a sort of gear-like pattern. Sally moved aside, letting Abigail put her hand on the raised part of the carving. Abigail then gave it a twist.
Dag butted in, twisting the carving back. “Well, I didn’t mean to actually activate it!”
“Activate what?”
“It’s a trap, designed to sink the entire ship.”
Abigail gasped and took a step back. “Don’t tell me I almost sunk a historical ship!”
�
�It does take a few more motions than a twist, but yeah, that was a little too close for comfort.”
Sally commented, “You should super glue that in place. Doesn’t seem like good ship design.”
Dag laughed. “Yeah, but then that’d destroy the historical value of it. See, it’s a safety measure. If the ship was ever boarded by pirates, particularly Lebeau pirates, the Captain would have the last-ditch option of sinking the whole thing and the treasures it held.”
Abigail blinked. “Jeez, talk about going overboard.”
Dag laughed a little too hard at her awful pun. “Actually, I think that’s where the phrase originated from! Back in the day, the Fischers despised the Lebeaus enough to sink their own ships if it meant keeping their goods out of pirate hands. It was quite the rivalry, for sure.”
Abigail decided to make her move now. If a tourist showed up, she wouldn’t be able to get Dag talking about his brother, so she had to act fast. “So, Dag. Do ships run in the family?”
Dag looked off in a reverie, long wisps of some loose hair sweeping across his face in the breeze. “Actually, they do. It’s the Viking blood in me. There’s nothing that feels more right than the wind blowing through my sails.”
“You’re Kirby’s brother, right? Your accent isn’t as strong as his.”
Dag’s facial features softened. “Yeah, he’s a bit older than me, by ten years. He was five when our parents moved from our home country to America, so he lived in the homeland just long enough to catch an accent.”
Abigail mulled over this new information. “What made your parents move to a whole new country?”
“Father made the move for better opportunities. Though… it wasn’t as easy as he thought. The business struggled, until Kirby was about nineteen, when Father handed him the keys to the house and business.”
That struck Abigail as odd. “Why would he do that?”
“Greener pastures. Father and Mother took off to mine gold in Alaska. Guess it’s that Viking blood in us… Left me here with Kirby when I was only nine. They said they’d be back in a year or two, after they struck gold, but that never really happened.”
Abigail shook her head. And here she thought her mother was an irresponsible parent. “I can’t believe they would leave you behind at such a young age.”
“My parents are pretty odd, I’ll admit. But even when they did live with us, Kirby raised me more than anyone, so it wasn’t a big change.”
Sally put her hands up to her chest. “Still, that must’ve been so hard for you two, having to become independent at such a young age.”
Dag gave a little shrug. “Kirby’s got a natural work ethic. Though, I feel kinda bad for him… I get to have a job I love, keeping this ship in top condition. Meanwhile, Kirby feels like it’s his duty to keep the family business going. I’ve offered to help run the place, but he insists I do what I love.”
Abigail looked down at the deck, unable to look Dag in the eye after she had suspected his brother of murder. But nobody else came close as a suspect, and perhaps Kirby’s love for his brother could drive him to do something terrible… Reginald made accusations about Kirby’s donations to the Lafayette, after all.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Abigail admitted.
Dag smiled proudly. “He is. Few people see past his rough exterior, but he’s an admirable man if you look deeper.”
Abigail looked at her watch. “Uh oh. Looks like I gotta cut this short. Grandma will have my head if I’m not home for dinner.”
Sally and Dag exchanged quick disappointed glances at each other, and Sally said, “Thanks for the tour.”
“Not a problem,” Dag said with a charming smile, seeing the two back to the pier.
Once Abigail and Sally made it down the street, Abigail nudged Sally and said, “I think the ice is officially broken.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it’d be. He’s really nice. I was kinda hesitant to meet him because of what a bummer it’d be if he wasn’t as charming as he was handsome.”
Abigail rolled her eyes. “Invite him to your cafe sometime, you doof. I don’t think he’ll say no.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Sally said, fiddling with her keys. “Anyway, you get any useful information out of that?”
“Dunno, I’ll have to run it by Grandma, see if she thinks there’s a clue in all that. She’s sorta my partner in crime.”
“Oh, shoot, and here I thought I was!” Sally said with a playful nudge. “Anyway, come to my shop sometime again before you leave town, you got it?”
“Will do.” Once Abigail was alone, she sat in her car and stared off. Whoever the killer was, she really hoped Kirby had nothing to do with it.
Chapter 20
Abigail returned to the antique shop with her findings. Grandma was in the middle of adjusting a set of porcelain dolls when she let out a little “Oh!” upon seeing Abigail. She moved over to the counter and leaned on it, ready for some new clues. “Tell me what you learned.”
Abigail took a seat on a stool at the counter, giving Thor ear rubs as she mulled it over. “Honestly? I don’t know. I learned nothing that absolves Kirby, except that he’s a hardworking guy who cares deeply for his brother.”
“We already knew that.”
“Yeah, but it’s motive if Reginald was threatening Dag’s livelihood in any way. He was snooping around, asking about the ship, which Kirby’s apparently donated a lot of money toward preserving. Reginald must’ve thought the Lafayette was the key to something, because he was questioning why Kirby was so invested in it.”
“Well, I don’t know what business a sleazy man like Reginald would have with a historical ship.”
Abigail rested her chin in both hands, which caused Thor to whine, glutton for ear scratches that he was. “Beats me. But did you know that ship has a self-destruct mechanism of sorts?”
“Goodness, no. Why would it?”
“On the wheel there’s a sorta special carving that if you twist it the right way, like a puzzle box, I guess it opens up a trap that sinks the ship. That way, the ship’s cargo stays out of pirate hands, Dag said.”
“Very curious. I’m not sure the average cargo haul for a ship like that would be worth sinking it. Perhaps there’s more secrets to discover within her hull?”
“Yeah. Not sure how one could go about searching for secrets though. Dag watches over that ship like an overbearing mother.”
“He sleeps in the Captain’s quarters too. That man’s inseparable from that ship!”
Abigail laughed. “Wow. And here I thought Sally stood a chance with him. Sounds like he’s already married to the Lafayette.”
Grandma walked over to Abigail and squeezed her shoulder. “Well, at least we scratched some suspects off the list today. It’s a shame we still aren’t sure about Kirby, but we’ll hold off until we’ve got more information.”
“I agree.”
Grandma flipped over the closed sign. “Time for dinner. I already have a casserole heating up in the oven.”
“Sounds delicious.” Abigail followed Grandma to the back, past a ‘No Customers’ sign into the quaint kitchen. Whatever was cooking smelled like potatoes, meat, and cheese—the perfect meal for such a long day.
Abigail took a seat at a small wooden table that had already been set for two. Now seemed as good a time as any to bring up something she had been wondering about for so long. “So Grandma. We haven’t had a chance to talk about…” Abigail hesitated. “Well, I don’t really know how to ask. But I was wondering what happened in the past, with you and my mom. And Grandpa, I guess. When I first showed up, Sally told me that he’d passed away a while ago.”
“Yes,” Grandma said, her tone hard to decipher. Abigail picked up a hint of sadness, and a hint of inevitability. Had they not been so happily married?
Grandma donned some oven mittens and pulled out the casserole. “I suppose I can’t avoid this topic much longer, can I? And it’s not fair to you to be kept in the dark.”
/> “It’s not you who’s been keeping me in the dark all these years. But Mom has told me next to nothing on the topic. She’d always get fuming mad if I asked about you guys, especially when I was just a girl.”
Grandma set the casserole on a cast iron trivet between them before sitting down. “It wasn’t one thing, not really. No single explosive event, so to speak. She was a tough kid. ‘No,’ was her favorite word. Stubborn, obstinate. It served her well in some ways. But it wore on me and as she got older, we fought more and more. And the fights became harsher and harsher.”
“I’m sorry to hear that…”
“Your grandfather and I, we lived quite humbly for a long while. This house used to be half this size before I converted it into an antique shop and added a whole new section to the back, which was…” She paused as she tried to recall. “I think a little under thirty years ago. Before I had managed to get this business going, your grandfather and I made a very meager living off his fishing. It was difficult work. Your mother didn’t respect that, and thought she deserved more.”
“Sounds a lot like her.”
“And her father felt the same way, sadly. She wanted more and he wanted to give her more and there was ultimately no more to give.” Grandma sighed sadly. “I loved her dearly. I still love her dearly. And it hurt me to ever punish her, and your grandfather more so. What little reprimanding I did to her, he’d counteract straight after. He didn’t seem to understand the concept of hard love. That consequence builds character. How would she ever learn otherwise?”
“She still hasn’t learned. Everything is someone else’s fault…” Abigail poked at her casserole, feeling bad that she had hardly taken a bite, but then again this conversation wasn’t conducive to an appetite. “So what about Grandpa?”
“We separated. When your mother became an adult, she made more and more bad decisions, but with a drinking problem to top it off. I had finally had enough of being her safety net. But your grandfather could never say no to her. Neither of us really wanted to split up. We didn’t part on angry terms, if you can believe that. We just ran out of solutions. So he left me the house and the boat while he and your mother moved inland where he worked at a factory to support them both. I guess they needed each other more than either one needed me.”
