A Deadly Pair O'Docks

by Nicole Ellis

  Bill never had a chance to answer my question because Becca came out of the house and stood next to us, holding a glass of red wine. I felt her eyes on me, but then she turned to her fiancé.

  “Bill!” she admonished. “You never offered our guests anything to drink.”

  He blushed slightly, but the sadness remained in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Would you two like anything to drink?”

  Desi and I exchanged glances. “Water would be great for both of us,” I said.

  Relief crossed his face, as if he was glad to have an excuse to leave our conversation. I felt a twinge of remorse to have caused him even more pain so soon after the death of his longtime friend.

  “Two waters coming up.” The deck vibrated as he strode off toward the bar cart. Lindsay had finished pouring her drink and was now sitting close to Orson on the outdoor love seat, deep in conversation.

  Becca smiled at her fiancé, her gaze full of love. “That man, I swear. He’s a brilliant dentist, but I’ve got to work with him on his hosting skills.” She turned her attention back to us. “So what did you need to discuss?”

  “I hoped to go over some of the wedding details with you and Bill.”

  Her face lit up. “Sure—with everything going on, I could use a distraction. There’s nothing I like better than to review the details. I want this wedding to be perfect.” Her face clouded over. “Well, as close to perfect as it can be after what happened to Declan.”

  “That’s actually what I wanted to discuss with you. It would be perfectly understandable if you decided not to go through with the wedding next week.”

  She fiercely shook her head. “No. Declan would want us to get married. He often teased us about when we’d finally tie the knot. We talked with Lindsay about it and have decided that as soon as Bill and I get back from our honeymoon, we’re going to have a memorial service for him, then take his boat out on Puget Sound and scatter his ashes.” Her lips quivered.

  I nodded. “That sounds like a lovely tribute. But please let me know if you have any concerns about going ahead with your wedding. I want to make sure this is a special day for you and Bill.”

  “I do too.” She looked close to tears.

  I patted her arm. “We’re going to make sure everything goes smoothly.” I mentally crossed my fingers. “I’m really sorry about the seating mix-up at the rehearsal dinner. But if you still intend to go through with the wedding, I do have some details to review with you.”

  Becca nodded at me, tight-lipped.

  Bill returned with our waters.

  “Thanks.” Desi smiled at him.

  “Yes, thank you.” I gestured to the house. “Becca and I are going to go over some of the wedding details if you’d like to join us.”

  He held up his hand. “I think Becca’s got it under control.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll leave the decision-making to her at this point.”

  I disappeared into the house with the bride-to-be, leaving Desi talking with Bill on the deck.

  Becca and I hammered out the remaining details until I was satisfied that we’d discussed everything and the event would be as perfect as she envisioned. I had taken copious notes in my spiral notebook and intended to copy everything to my computer files as soon as I returned to the Boathouse. I wasn’t taking any chances this time.

  We returned to the deck. Desi stood alone at the deck railing, while Bill was talking to Lindsay in heated tones. Orson watched the two of them from a nearby chair. Jared was nowhere to be seen.

  I tapped Desi on the shoulder and she turned. Her expression was ashen.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her voice was filled with held-back tears. “Lindsay was horrid to me. She told me she’s going to sue the Boathouse and everyone in our family for Declan’s death. She’s sure it had something to do with him leaving the rehearsal dinner drunk.”

  “But we didn’t overserve him—I saw him pull a flask out of his pocket a few times. And, somehow, he got ahold of a six-pack of beer.”

  “Yeah, well, tell that to Lindsay. She seems intent on ruining our family business. If the press gets wind of this...” A tear slipped down her face, and she brushed it away before forcing a smile. “Are you ready to go? I don’t think I can stay here much longer.”

  I wrapped my arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. I hated to see her so upset over being hurt by someone she’d considered a friend. We both gazed out at the lake for a minute. The wind had picked up and whitecaps had formed on the water’s surface, making globs of algae bob under the water, an eerie reminder of Declan’s body floating next to the Boathouse’s dock. I shuddered and turned away.

  “Let’s go. I wanted to get home before the storm anyway.”

  We got into the car just as the sky opened up and buckets of rain poured down. The friendly cotton-puff clouds from this morning had completely disappeared, replaced by swirling gray clouds as dark as my thoughts. The casual days of drinks on the sunny deck had come to an end.

  10

  I hadn’t planned on working over the weekend, but since Beth was gone, I had to cover her events as well as mine. On the agenda for Saturday was a baby shower, and on Sunday we had a seventieth birthday party in the evening. I was fairly confident in my abilities to manage both events. I’d done several of them over the past few months and had conferred with Beth the night before about the weekend’s plans. I was determined to not let any thoughts of Declan’s murder interfere with my duties. At least the reporters were gone, chasing the next ambulance.

  As soon as the guest of honor walked in, looking like she was ten months pregnant, my mind switched to active management. The event was an evening baby shower for both the mother- and the father-to-be. About forty guests were scheduled to be in attendance. By the time all the guests had arrived, the tables I’d had the staff set up against the wall groaned under the weight of the baby gifts.

  The event went smoothly, and all of the guests were smiling and chattering in small groups as they left. The father-to-be and his father took one load of gifts to the car, then stopped to chat with some of their relatives in the Boathouse’s lobby. After carrying the second load of gifts to the car, the father-to-be returned alone, his face as red as a ripe strawberry.

  He stormed up to me, looking like he was about to blow. “Somebody stole our baby gifts out of the trunk of my car. Who would have done such a thing?”

  My heart raced. Nothing like this had ever happened before at the Boathouse. At least that I knew of. I wasn’t sure what Beth would want me to do in this situation, so I did the only thing I could do—apologize.

  “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” I peered out the front door window. The sky was darkening, and the client’s car was one of only a few left in the parking lot. It was parked close to the main sidewalk and against the curb.

  His wife waddled up to us and tugged at his arm. “Dylan, what’s going on?”

  He turned to look at her, his expression softening, and he put his hands on her shoulders. “Honey, I’m sorry, but someone took some of the gifts out of the car.”

  “What? You mean they stole them?” She ran to the door. “I hope it wasn’t the rocking chair from Aunt Linda. It was so beautiful.”

  “It’s still over there.” He pointed to the wall and the tables, which were now only half-full.

  “Thank goodness.” She rubbed her belly. “But what did they take?”

  “I don’t know,” he said grimly. “But this is ridiculous. This is supposed to be a safe neighborhood.”

  I walked with them out to his Ford Explorer, where his father now stood guard. The tailgate was up, and only a few gifts were left in the truck. The woman started crying.

  Her husband wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “It’s ok, I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

  With his wife’s face buried against his chest, he glared at me. I shrank back. It wasn’t like it was my fault that his gifts had been stolen. I felt bad, but it prob
ably hadn’t been the smartest thing to leave the car unlocked and the tailgate open, especially with darkness setting in to conceal any wrongdoings. Ericksville was generally a safe town, but there were dishonest and evil people everywhere. Declan’s murder had proven that. Still, it was a horrible thing to experience. When someone had broken into my house in the spring, the sense of violation had been worse than the damage caused to our house.

  “I’ll call the police and let them know about the theft,” I said. “Maybe they’ll be able to locate the gifts.” I didn’t really believe that, but I felt like I needed to say something comforting to them.

  A gust of wind off the water blew past us, carrying the odor of an overflowing trash can in Lighthouse Park. The pregnant woman wrinkled her nose and turned green.

  “I need to go inside.” She tugged at her husband’s arm.

  He nodded, and hand-in-hand, they followed me back inside to my office. I called the police, and they told me they would send somebody over to take statements. While we were waiting, the pregnant woman went over to stand with her sister, who had arranged to have the event at the Boathouse.

  Whether she knew I was in earshot or not, the sister said loudly, “They clearly need to hire security for these events. I’m going to warn everyone I know to stay away from this part of town until things calm down.”

  I ducked back around the corner into the hallway near my office, my heart pounding. My worst fears had been confirmed. The bad publicity surrounding Declan’s murder had reached our clients.

  The police came and talked to the parents-to-be. They took detailed notes about what was missing, but I could tell from their demeanor that they didn’t expect to recover any of the stolen goods.

  While the family milled around the lobby clearing out the rest of their belongings, I met with the police officer in my office.

  “Do you think there’s any chance the stolen gifts will be found?”

  “We’ll certainly do our best, ma’am, but most likely not. I’m sorry.”

  “Do you think this could have anything to do with the man’s body that was found by our docks?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t say much about that case, but what I can say is that, statistically, most murders aren’t random acts of violence—they’re carried out by someone the victim knew.”

  I felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice over me. Someone Declan knew. In all likelihood, that meant one of the other people who had attended the rehearsal dinner. Desi’s friends.

  “Thank you.” I stood from my desk. “Will you let me know if you find anything out about the stolen gifts?”

  “We will.”

  Finally, all of the guests left, and I had a chance to check my e-mail and the few voicemails that had come in while I was working the baby shower. There was nothing major in my e-mail, but I listened to the voicemails, hanging up as soon as I heard them. Both of the messages were notifications from booked clients that they were canceling their events at the Boathouse. I called each of them back to plead with them to reconsider, but even with my offer of added security for the event, they opted to cancel. The impact of having a guest murdered on site was becoming apparent. If we couldn’t end the negative publicity soon, the business could be in serious financial trouble. This end of the summer season was one of our busiest times of the year, and if we lost too many clients it could be devastating.

  I stared at the wall. The only way to fix this mess was for Declan’s murderer to be caught, and the Boathouse to be out of the public eye—at least in a negative context. The police didn’t seem to be making much progress in the case, at least that I knew of. I’d met most of the people that Declan had been around the day of his murder, so I figured I could probably find something out that could lead the police in the right direction. After all, I had done some sleuthing in the past that had helped bring some very bad people to justice. Being the events coordinator at the Boathouse gave me an in with Declan’s crowd that the police didn’t have. And Desi could easily infiltrate them to snoop a little too.

  Satisfied with my plan, I finished up my work for the day and headed home. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Beth about the stolen baby gifts, but it didn’t seem major, so I left it for the next day.

  11

  I spent Sunday managing a successful seventieth birthday party and breaking the news to Beth about the stolen baby gifts, which she took surprisingly well. By Monday, I was eager to start trying to figure out if one of Declan’s friends had killed him. If the murderer wasn’t caught soon, the Boathouse would stay in the media spotlight and there might not be a business for Lincoln and Beth to come home to. As soon as I got into my office, I began a list of possible suspects. Unless Declan’s death had been a random act of violence, which the police officer I’d spoken to had deemed unlikely, the murderer was probably one of the group staying at the cabin on Lake Elinor with him or the woman he’d argued with on the day he died.

  1) Janelle Dixon – hated Declan because he wouldn’t allow her to be a partner in their dental practice

  2) Bill Friede – Declan and Jared’s partner in the dental practice—seemed too nice, but appearances could be deceiving

  3) Becca Liu – Declan and Lindsay’s divorce ruining her wedding seemed a bit of a stretch for murder, but I left her on there for consistency

  4) Jared Seely– Declan and Bill’s partner in the dental practice—why would he have killed his partner?

  5) Lindsay Becker – going through a bitter divorce with Declan

  6) Isabel Liu – Becca’s cousin—I wasn’t sure what relationship, if any, she had with the rest of the group

  Declan had argued with Janelle Dixon the day he died, so she seemed like a good place to start. I looked her up on the internet and found that she worked as a dentist for low-income children in nearby Everton. I had about ninety minutes until I needed to be at the preschool for summer camp, and I’d intended to visit the Boathouse’s florist in Everton sometime soon, so I figured I could combine the visits. But how was I going to approach Janelle? I didn’t have any reason to visit her or her office.

  I had to have some sort of excuse to see her—maybe a claim that I’d found something of hers. I looked around the room for something I could use as a prop and spotted my sunglasses on the edge of the desk. They were my favorites—the only designer brand item I owned, and I hoped she wouldn’t tell me they actually were hers because I didn’t want to lose them. The sun shone brightly, and I slipped the sunglasses on for the drive over to Janelle’s office.

  I drove into the parking lot of her dental practice and parked next to a beat-up Honda Civic. The first thing I did was to duck down in the seat and remove my sunglasses. Before going into the building, I stood in front of my car for a minute working up the nerve to enter. If Janelle had killed Declan, this probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but it was my best lead at the moment.

  Her dental office, which appeared to be shared with two other dentists, was in an old one-story brown house off the main road. The exterior had been livened up with a colorful rainbow sign with children on it and the name of the practice. I was about to turn the doorknob, when the door swung open and someone walked out toward the Honda. It was the same woman with frizzy dishwater blonde hair that I’d seen arguing with Declan in the parking lot of the Boathouse—Janelle Dixon.

  I pasted a smile on my face. “Hi, are you Janelle?”

  “Yes, why? Did you have an appointment today?” She cocked her head to the side and scanned my car, as if searching for a child in need of dental care.

  “No, I’m actually here for something else.” I held up the sunglasses. “Are these yours?”

  She reached into her purse and felt around. “No, mine are right here.” She extracted a pair of silver-tone sunglasses. “Those look awfully expensive. Where did you find them? Did someone tell you they were mine?”

  “I work at the Boathouse in downtown Ericksville. We found these in the parking lot, and someone
remembered seeing you talk to one of our guests out there that day.” I checked her face to gauge her reaction.

  She flushed a little. “I was in Ericksville last week to go jogging along the waterfront, but I don’t remember talking to anyone in the Boathouse parking lot. Anyway, they’re not mine, but thanks for coming here to ask me.” She looked at me with curiosity. “Who was it that told you they were mine?”

  A police car’s lights flashed and its sirens blared as it raced by on the next street over, giving me a chance to think about whether or not to tell her it had been Lindsay.

  “Oh, one of our clients.” I hesitated. Should I tell her who had mentioned her name? Lindsay wasn’t technically our client, so it was probably ok.

  “Actually, it was Lindsay Becker. Do you know her?”

  Janelle’s face darkened and she scowled. “I do. I remember now. I spoke with Lindsay’s husband, Declan.”

  “Yeah, she said you were old friends.” I didn’t think it was my business to tell her about Declan’s death, and besides, if I did so, she might not be so forthcoming with me about her relationship with him. I leaned against my car, then thought better of it when the hot metal burned through my dress pants.

  She scoffed. “She said we were friends?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  She shifted her weight from foot to foot and toed the cracked blacktop. “That’s rich.”

  I smiled companionably. “I take it there’s no love lost between the two of you. I have to say I haven’t found Lindsay very pleasant to work with either, so I don’t blame you.”

  “That woman is a real witch, if you know what I mean.” Fire burned in her eyes.

  “I see you’re a dentist. Is that how you know Declan?”

  “Yes. I went to dental college with Declan, Bill, and Jared. Do you know them?” She continued without waiting for my response. “They have a dental practice together.” She sighed. “The plan was always for the four of us to open our own practice after school. Unfortunately, Queen Lindsay didn’t like that plan. I think she was jealous and didn’t want me anywhere near Declan. She put her foot down and told them she didn’t want me there. The guys had been friends for a while, so I didn’t have much of a chance of changing their minds.”