“Speaking of boats, I want to show you Penny’s new business card.” I walked over to the counter and looked through my purse. “Huh, it’s not here, and neither is my wallet.”
“Where do you think it is?”
I shrugged. “Maybe I left it at Penelope’s, or it fell out of my purse on the way back to the marina.” I slung my purse over my shoulder and gave Scooter a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’m going to retrace my steps and see if I can find it. That means you’re on dish duty,” I said quickly over my shoulder as I dashed out the door.
* * *
As I drove past the bakery, I noticed that the lights were off, and the sign on the door said Closed. I parked the car in their lot and began retracing my steps back toward the marina. I halted in my tracks when I reached Suzanne and Norm’s office and reviewed the listings displayed on the large window extending from the corner of the building to the entryway. Wow, property really was going for a pretty penny in Coconut Cove.
After reading the details for a condo in town and admiring the large pool that residents had access to, I noticed a picture of a very familiar-looking cottage next to it. I peered through the window and spotted Suzanne sitting at a desk with her back to me, tapping on a keyboard with one hand while holding a phone up to her ear with the other.
When I knocked on the glass to try to get her attention, she turned and gave me a wave before looking back at her computer. I pushed the office door open and marched up to her desk.
“What’s the meaning of that?” I demanded, pointing at the window.
She glanced up at me, held up her phone, and motioned for me to sit on a chair. Instead, I strode over to the window and tore the advertisement down. When I turned it over, I realized I had ripped the wrong one off the glass—this was the condo. The views from the balcony overlooking the pool really were nice.
I moved over to the file cabinets running along the wall, where office supplies were stacked. I took some tape and reattached the condo ad to the window, but not before noting that it had a large spa tub in the master bath. I do love a good soak in a big tub. Then I pulled the one featuring our cottage down and slammed it on Suzanne’s desk.
“Care to explain this?”
“Just a sec,” she said to the person on the other end of the phone. “Mollie, have a seat. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
“Tell them you’ll call back,” I said forcefully. “I want to talk about this now.”
Suzanne frowned, then ended her call.
“Now, what’s all this fuss about, dear?”
I pointed at the picture of my cottage.
“Oh, that.” She clucked her tongue. “You’re right. It isn’t a great picture, but it’s the best I could do with my phone. When the photographer comes out tomorrow, he’ll get much better shots. This one is just a temporary one.”
“Suzanne—”
“No, don’t say another word. I take full responsibility for not having the photographer come out earlier.”
“But—”
She wagged a finger. “Really, it’s my fault. Now, you look like you could use a cup of coffee.” She pushed back her chair and walked over to the back of the room where there was a small seating area. She picked up an insulated coffee carafe and poured some into a china cup. “How do you take it?”
“I don’t really want any—”
“Let me see if I can guess.” She looked at me thoughtfully. “You seem like a gal who takes two sugars and plenty of cream. Am I right?”
“Actually—”
“Of course I’m right.” I shook my head as she fussed with the coffee. “You know what would go nicely with this? One of the chocolate tarts we have left over from our client event tonight. How does that sound?”
“No, I couldn’t…” I started to refuse, but I had given Scooter most of my piece of pecan pie. “Oh, what the heck. Why not?”
“You just have a seat over here,” Suzanne said. “I’ll go grab them from the kitchen.”
As I sank into the comfy chair, she set the box down in front of me. “French provincial?” I asked, pointing at the white coffee table.
“Why, yes, it is.” She gave me an appraising look. “I’m surprised you recognized the style.”
“My mom is really into interior design.” In an effort to distract Suzanne from the crumbs I’d brushed off my shirt, which had landed on the Persian rug, I pointed at a lamp. “Tiffany?”
“Right again. That’s Norm’s side of the office,” she said. “I had a hard time convincing him that it would add a touch of class to his desk.”
The shared office space was a study in contrasts. Suzanne’s side was feminine. The furniture was white, the rugs were pastel, and there were needlepoint cushions on the pale blue velvet-upholstered couch in the seating area. Norm’s side was full of dark wood, leather seats, and a variety of taxidermy specimens adorning the walls.
“I don’t know how he works like that,” Suzanne said, waving her hands dramatically. “His desk is tucked back against that wall, and he can’t see out the window.” She poured some more coffee into my cup. “Now, if my Xander were working here, we’d reconfigure the whole space, maybe knock out that wall there, and—”
“Suzanne, can I interrupt you for a second?” Before she could refuse, I quickly added, “We really need to talk about the cottage.” I walked over and picked up the advertisement from her desk, crumpled it up, and tossed it in the garbage can. Or rather, next to the garbage can. I really need to work on my aim.
“When—I mean if—we ever decide to sell, we’ll let you know. Right now, the cottage isn’t on the market.”
“You’re being a tad dramatic, don’t you think, dear? I promise you, we’ll get better pictures.” She picked the paper off the ground and smoothed it out on her desk. “We’ll make sure to get a shot that shows off those lovely flower beds.”
I tried to snatch the paper back and ended up knocking some files onto the ground. I bent down and was shoving the pages that had fallen out back into the folders when I noticed a document labeled “Coconut Cove Tropical Resort.”
“Here, give me those,” Suzanne said. As she placed them on her desk, her charm bracelet caught my eye. How could I have forgotten Mrs. Moto’s discovery earlier today?
I walked back to the seating area and picked my purse up off the coffee table. I pulled the gold charm out and held it up. “Does this look familiar?”
She rushed over. “Oh, you found it! I’ve been searching for that. Where was it?”
“In the boatyard.”
“The boatyard? That doesn’t make sense. I never set foot in there.” She clutched the charm in her hand. “Thank you so much for bringing it back. I’m so lucky you found it.”
“Actually, it wasn’t me who found it. Mrs. Moto did.”
“I don’t think I know her. Is she new to the area?”
“No, she’s lived here for a while at the marina.”
“Another one of those people who lives on a boat, like your friend Penny. I should have a word with her. I just got a new listing she might be interested in.”
“I think she might have a hard time getting a mortgage.”
“Oh, bad credit?”
“No, she’s a cat.”
“A cat?” After she considered this for a moment, she asked, “Is she one of those pets who had a rich owner who left her everything in the will?” She chewed on her lip. “I might just know the perfect place for a well-to-do feline.”
“She’s happy where she is,” I said. “Now, getting back to the charm—Mrs. Moto found it near the murder scene.”
Suzanne gasped. “What a grisly thing to find.” She dropped the charm on her desk, opened up a drawer, pulled out a disinfectant wipe, and scrubbed her fingers. “Well, I’m just glad it’s back safe and sound with me and out of that nasty, dirty boatyard.”
“How do you think it ended up there?”
She picked up the charm with a tissue, being careful to avoid touc
hing it directly, and placed it on top of a notepad. “I’ll have to take that into the jewelry shop tomorrow and have them clean it properly and reattach it to my bracelet,” she said, ignoring my question.
I bit my lip. I was beginning to have second thoughts about giving the charm back to Suzanne. Even though it wasn’t exactly found at the murder scene, Mrs. Moto did find it nearby. Perhaps I should have reported the discovery to the authorities.
“Uh, Suzanne, do you think maybe we should tell the police chief about the charm?”
“Why would they be interested in a silly little charm?”
“Well, because of where it was found.”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting, dear?” Suzanne said. “I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.”
“Like…”
She shrugged. “Maybe it fell off in the car, Norm put it in his pocket to give back to me later, and then it fell out of his pocket when he was working on the boat.” She fussed with her bracelets. “Why are you so interested, anyway? It’s not like we had anything to do with that poor young man’s death. Besides, we were both here in the office the night of the murder.”
“Well, if it wasn’t one of you, who do you think did it?”
She leaned forward in her chair and lowered her voice. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but apparently Darren was poaching fish. That sort of thing angers a lot of people.”
“Do you really think anyone would murder someone for poaching fish? That seems a bit extreme.”
“What’s this about murder?” Norm asked darkly, standing in the entryway.
“Oh, Mollie and I were just talking about what happened to Darren. Such a sweet young boy.” She gave Norm a warning look. “I was telling her how we were both here working late the evening he was killed.”
Norm put his hand on the back of his wife’s chair and glared at me. “What business is it of yours what we were doing? Do you think aliens were involved? Maybe one of them beamed down and killed Darren because he was going to tell everyone he had been abducted.” He gave a humorless laugh.
Suzanne reached up and tugged on his arm. “Norm’s just kidding. Isn’t that right, darling?” she said.
“Sure, I was just kidding,” he said. He walked around to the other side of his wife’s desk, picked up the charm, and stared at it thoughtfully. As he set it back down, he grabbed the file folders. “What are these doing here? How many times have I told you to keep these locked up?” He walked over to a file cabinet, placed the folders inside, and shut the drawer.
I picked up my purse and made my way to the exit. As I opened the door, Suzanne took my arm. “Don’t mind him. It’s just the stress of everything. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she said as she gently pushed me outside. “And don’t worry yourself into a tizzy about my charm.”
“But—”
“Tell you what, why don’t I tell the chief about it? Will that make you feel better?”
Before I could respond, she stepped back inside, shut the door, and flipped the sign in the window over to the Closed side.
I walked toward my car overwhelmed by questions. Was it really plausible that Norm had dropped Suzanne’s charm in the boatyard? What exactly was the Coconut Cove Tropical Resort, and why had Norm locked the files up? And more importantly, did Mrs. Moto think she was going to inherit a fortune from us when we died?
8
THE CASE OF THE MISSING COLLAR
Ben looked up from sanding the teak rails on Mana Kai. “Taking a break again, Mollie? Wasn’t your last one five minutes ago?”
“No, it wasn’t. It was…” Okay, just between you and me, it was five minutes ago, but I wasn’t going to admit that to Ben. “I’m not actually on a break. I’m…uh…oh, never mind.”
“Calculating how much paint you’ll need to cover the bottom?” Ben offered helpfully.
I gave him a thumbs-up. “Yes, that’s it.”
“And how much paint do you think you’ll need?” he asked.
“Um…I’m not sure yet. I think I’ll need to do some more calculations while I have some water. Math problems are always so dehydrating.” I plucked a bottle out of a cooler, closed the lid, and sat on it. “Want one?” I asked. “Looks like you’re on a break too.”
“Yeah, why not? I’ve been at it for a couple of hours.”
I watched as Ben climbed down the ladder attached to the Chois’ boat, holding on with one hand while balancing a large toolbox in the other. He lost his balance when his foot slipped on one of the rungs.
“Oh no,” he said, looking at the hammers, screwdrivers, and wrenches scattered on the ground.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “You could have broken your arm like Leilani did.”
“I’m fine.” He put everything back in the toolbox with some help from me, then wiped dust off his tattered shorts. “Do me a favor. Don’t tell Nancy what happened. She’ll have a fit.”
“She has fits all the time,” I said. “What’s so special about this?”
“We’re supposed to hand things down to someone else or use a bucket with a rope attached to it to lower stuff down. ‘Two hands on the ladder,’ she always says.”
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Although, as much as I hate to say it, Nancy probably has a point.”
Ben raised his hands in the air. “You’re right. It won’t happen again. I really don’t want to lose this job.”
He walked around Marjorie Jane’s hull and inspected my work. “How come you and Scooter don’t pay the boatyard to take care of your projects?”
“Well, Scooter wants us to do everything ourselves. That way we’ll know the systems inside and out.”
Ben nodded. “Makes sense. Of course, things end up taking twice as long or more when you’re doing them for the first time. I can see how Scooter would think it’s an exciting challenge doing all this, but what about you? You don’t seem like you’re enjoying it.”
I laughed. “There are times when I’ve thought a root canal sounded like a much more pleasant way to spend the day. But I don’t want to spend a penny more on this boat than we have to. She’s costing us a fortune as it is.” I brushed my hand along the keel, noting areas that needed more sanding. “Plus, there’s the matter of that bet I have with Norm. I would love to see the look on his face when he has to name his boat ET.”
“I think there are a lot of people who’d pay to see that,” Ben said. “By the time you’re finished with this, you’re going to be a pro, Mollie. Maybe you should get a job working at the boatyard too.”
“I probably should,” I said. “At least that way I’d get paid to be tortured instead of paying the marina for the privilege of having our boat here to work on it.”
“Are you seriously thinking of getting a real job?” Ben asked.
I scowled. “Why does everyone think my work with FAROUT isn’t a real job?”
“Hey, I get it,” Ben said. “When I’m not working here, I’m practicing my guitar. I consider it my real job. The boatyard is just what pays the bills.” He started strumming an air guitar. “One of these days, I’m going to make it big.”
“I admire the fact that you can get up there in public and perform.” I unzipped my Smurf suit in an attempt to cool down. “I would get such stage fright.”
“You? That surprises me. You seem like you’d be a natural at it.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. I have to give a speech tonight at a FAROUT meeting.” I shaded my eyes and looked up at the sun. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand to work outside in this heat. I kept reminding myself that I should be grateful I was doing this in winter. Things would be even worse during the summer. Hopefully, we’d be done working on this boat by then.
Ben gulped down the rest of his water. “Is your bottle empty? Give it to me, and I’ll toss these in the recycling bin. Then I should probably get back to work. Break time’s over.”
While I debated whether I should continue sanding or go practice
my speech, I noticed that Scooter had left his cell phone on a work table next to the Chois’ boat. At last, my opportunity to erase those horrible Smurf photos he’d taken of me. I went over, picked it up, and tapped the screen. For some reason, his phone was unlocked. Not that it was ever hard to crack his passwords. His one for the computer was always the name of his current favorite cereal, and the PIN for his phone was my birthday.
I tapped on the album icon and scrolled through the photos. When had Scooter taken all these pictures of turtles? When had he even had a chance to go to the turtle sanctuary? And what were all these ones of the beach about? I was always the one who took those kinds of shots when we were out for a stroll. Not one single Smurf picture. Had he already deleted them?
His phone beeped, and a text flashed up on the screen.
I’ve got proof. If you don’t do what I say, everyone will know what you did.
Proof of what? What did Scooter do? Who would send him something like this?
“No problem. I’ll just head to the house and call you from there. We can walk through the contract then,” a familiar voice said behind me.
I turned and saw Scooter holding a phone up to his ear. Then I looked back at the phone in my hand.
He ended his call, walked over, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Listen, panda, I’ve got to head back to the cottage for a while. Problems with that deal I’m working on. How about if I bring some fish-and-chips by for lunch?” The phone in his hand rang. “Oh, gotta get this. See you later,” he said, dashing off toward the car.
If Scooter was talking on his phone, then whose phone was this? Did he have two phones?
I reread the text and noticed that it had come from Liam. Why would Liam text my husband? They barely knew each other. When I checked the other texts, there was a series of similar threats, but from Darren, not Liam.
As I puzzled over this, Ken pulled up in his vehicle. He leaned out the window and shouted up at Ben, who was back working on the teak rails. “Hey, have you seen my phone anywhere?”
Bodies in the Boatyard Page 10