Bodies in the Boatyard

by Ellen Jacobson

  “Should we talk about the time you fainted?” I asked Scooter with a smile, remembering what had happened when he’d seen Darren’s body.

  Fortunately for Scooter, Norm came over and handed me an envelope. “Here, we all took up a collection for the two of you. You’ll probably need a little help getting back on your feet.”

  My eyes grew wide when I looked inside the envelope. “We can’t possibly accept this,” I said as I handed it to Scooter.

  “No, we can’t,” he said. “It’s a very thoughtful gesture, but we’re fine. We’ve got insurance and savings.” He pointed over to the bar where a couple of off-duty volunteer firefighters were standing. “I’ve got an idea.” He leaned across the table and filled me in on his plan. Then he pointed at the stage. “Go on, tell everyone.”

  “Oh no, not me. Why don’t you do it?”

  “You can do it. You’re experienced at public speaking now.”

  I reluctantly got up on stage, picked up the microphone, and thanked everyone for their donations. When I suggested that we give the money to the fire department instead, everyone cheered.

  * * *

  “You did great, my little panda bear,” Scooter said, giving me a big hug. “I have a feeling you’re going to be in demand as a public speaker. Next stop, Mollie’s World Tour!” He stepped back and gave me an appraising look. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I just need a minute,” I said. “I’m going to go get some fresh air. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  “All right, just don’t take too long. Mrs. Moto is waiting for us back at the boat.”

  I walked out onto the deck, leaned up against the railing, and took a few deep breaths. I was feeling overwhelmed by all the love and support everyone had shown us. Coconut Cove really was a special place. People looked out for one another. Sure, they might know a little too much about your personal business—you certainly couldn’t hide anything in a town this small for very long—but that also meant that they genuinely cared when something tragic happened in your life.

  As I gazed out across the water, I had to admit that Ken had been right about one thing. Big developers coming in would ruin the quirky charm of Coconut Cove. There had to be a way to bring more revenue into the area while retaining our small-town identity and appeal. Next month’s boating festival would be a good test of this. It was sure to draw lots of tourists, but it would also highlight locally-owned small businesses, like Penelope’s bakery, Chuck’s restaurant, the Sailor’s Corner Cafe, and the Tipsy Pirate. I hoped nothing would ruin it.

  I took a last look at the sun setting over the water. When I turned to head back inside, I noticed Ned and Nancy at the far side of the deck, holding hands. This was a first—I don’t think I had ever seen them be affectionate toward each other in that way before. Nancy probably thought it would come across as a sign of weakness.

  They walked toward me, whispering to each other. Nancy even giggled at one point. As they passed me, she noticed me watching. She dropped Ned’s hand, then fixed her piercing blue eyes on me. “What are you looking at, Mollie?” She pursed her lips and continued to glare at me. “Are you going to stand there all day? You’re blocking the entrance.” I took a step back and she whisked past me. “Come on, Ned, let’s go,” she said over her shoulder.

  Ned started to follow his wife, then paused and gave me a big smile. “She apologized. Can you believe that?”

  “That’s terrific,” I said. As he walked inside, I muttered under my breath, “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  Before I met Scooter at the car, I had one last thing to do—pay a visit to my old friend, Coconut Carl.

  “Hey, Carl, remember me? It’s Mollie. I just wanted to say thank you for everything you did. My FAROUT speech went great. Now I have another little favor to ask. We could really use some good luck when it comes to finding a new place to live. Do you think you could help out with that?” I rubbed his belly three times, clockwise.

  As I was about to give some tourists their chance with Carl, I remembered something. I stepped back and whispered in his ear. “By the way, I wasn’t talking about living on Marjorie Jane. Just thought I should make that clear.” I threw in a few extra belly rubs for good luck.

  * * *

  “Mrs. Moto, where are you?” I called out. A furry face peeked over the side of the boat and watched me climb up the ladder, her whiskers twitching. Once I clambered onto the deck, she rubbed against my legs and purred loudly. Then she padded back to the side of the boat and watched Scooter make his way upward. As he neared the top rung, she leaned over and quickly licked his forehead before darting into the cockpit.

  “Yuck. What was that about?” he asked as he wiped the remnants of her kiss off.

  “I think she’s worried about us. She’s afraid we might fall down and get hurt.” I gave her a scratch on the head. “Or worse,” I added.

  Scooter rolled his eyes. “I think that would only upset her if it meant we couldn’t open a can of her favorite cat food at least twice a day.”

  He sat in the cockpit and stretched his arms behind his head. “It’s a nice night out. I love a full moon, don’t you?” He put his arm around me and pulled me close. Mrs. Moto climbed onto his lap. “It wouldn’t be so bad living on the boat, would it?”

  I pulled back and stared at him. “You’re joking, aren’t you? There’s barely enough room to move, the floorboards are torn up, the toilet doesn’t work, and I can’t even begin to imagine cooking down below.” Mrs. Moto yowled loudly. “See, Mrs. Moto agrees with me.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense to move aboard. At least, not yet.” I leaned back and gave him a pointed look. He tried again. “At least not for a while?” I raised my eyebrows. “At least, not until it’s your idea?”

  “That’s better,” I said.

  Scooter smiled. “I thought you’d feel that way. Fortunately, I think I found us a place to live. A place that’s on land with a working kitchen and bathroom.”

  “That’s great! Where?”

  “There’s a unit available for rent at the Tropical Breeze condos. It’s fully furnished, so we can move in right away.” The calico meowed. “And yes, pets are allowed,” Scooter said, giving her a scratch on her head.

  He sighed. “I guess it won’t be a big deal to move, considering we’ve lost everything.”

  “I’m really going to miss my boots.”

  “I’m going to miss my comic book collection,” Scooter said in a strained voice.

  I squeezed his hand. “Hey, are you crying?”

  Mrs. Moto stood and looked at him curiously. She reached up and put her front paws on his shoulder. He picked her up and rubbed his face against her fur. “I’m fine. I think it’s just my allergies acting up.”

  Mrs. Moto squirmed in his arms and stuck her paw into his shirt pocket.

  “Looks like she found another clue,” I said jokingly.

  The calico kept poking in his pocket insistently.

  Scooter smiled. “Actually, she found something better than a clue in the bilge earlier today. Of course, she may have been the one who put it there in the first place.” He picked her up and gazed into her eyes sternly. “You’re going to have to stop knocking stuff off tables and counters.” She leaned forward and licked his face. “Hey, stop that.”

  He set the cat on the seat next to him, reached into his pocket, and pulled out my diamond necklace. I put it around my neck and gave Scooter a kiss. “Thank goodness. I thought it had been lost in the fire!” Mrs. Moto meowed. “Yes, of course you deserve all the credit. What would we do without you and your uncanny ability to find things?”

  Scooter smiled. “I suppose she isn’t too bad.” He looked at our little fur ball. “But I don’t really think that collar suits her, do you? It’s just too ordinary for such a clever cat.”

  I stroked Mrs. Moto’s neck and inspected the plain navy collar. “Well, it’s not like it’s going to last long. She’ll mysteriously lose this one soon too.”
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br />   Scooter pulled a small bag out of the pocket on his cargo shorts and opened it up. “I think the reason she hasn’t been happy with her collars is that she’s jealous that you get to wear a sparkly necklace with a diamond and she doesn’t.” He pulled out a glittery silver collar encrusted with rhinestones. “See, now you’ve got some bling too,” he said, fastening it around her neck. Mrs. Moto started purring loudly. I think she approved.

  Scooter smiled at her reaction. “You know, it doesn’t really matter about the cottage. Things can be replaced, Mollie. What’s important is that I’ve still got my favorite girl.” Mrs. Moto meowed. “Sorry. Of course I meant my two favorite girls.” Then he rubbed his hand along Marjorie Jane’s woodwork. “Make that my three favorite girls.”

  * * *

  Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed Bodies in the Boatyard, you’ll love the next book in the series—Poisoned by the Pier. Pick up a copy on at your favorite retailer (https://books2read.com/PoisonedByThePier) and find out what Mollie gets up to next. Spoiler alert: you’ll never look at rutabagas the same way again after you finish reading this book! You can find a sneak peek of Poisoned by the Pier at the end of this book.

  MOLLIE’S SAILING TIPS

  I asked Mollie if she wouldn’t mind sharing her thoughts about downsizing and moving onto a sailboat. “Living on a boat is Scooter’s dream, not mine,” she said while petting Mrs. Moto. The Japanese bobtail cat meowed loudly in agreement. “It’s not her dream either,” Mollie said with a smile. “She likes to have plenty of room to play with her catnip mice.”

  When I explained that some of our readers might be interested in a liveaboard lifestyle, she agreed to share some downsizing tips that she had picked up from people at the marina.

  After taking a sip of coffee and nibbling on a brownie, she sighed. “Of course, if you are going to downsize, don’t do it the way we did it. Losing everything in a fire was absolutely devastating.”

  MOLLIE’S THOUGHTS ON DOWNSIZING & MOVING ONTO A SAILBOAT

  1—THINK SMALL

  Our cottage was so spacious in comparison to Marjorie Jane. To be honest, it was quite a shock to the system to find myself living in such a tiny space. Only one person can be in the kitchen (aka galley) at a time, Scooter can’t stand up in our bedroom (aka aft cabin), and there’s a distinct lack of closet space. If you’re going to move onto a sailboat the size of ours, you’ll have to do some serious downsizing.

  2—MULTI-FUNCTION ITEMS

  Since you won’t have much room, look for items that can serve more than one purpose. For example, when we lived in our cottage, we used to have different glasses for red wine, white wine, and champagne. Now we have one set of glasses and we use them for everything—water, soda, juice, wine, beer etc. Oh, and they’re not even made of glass, they’re plastic because when your sailboat gets tippy (aka heeling to one side), things get broken.

  3—SCAN PHOTOS AND DOCUMENTS

  Some of the ladies in my sailing class told me that they scanned their photos and important documents and saved them on a hard drive or up in the cloud. It saves a ton of space on board, plus if you have water leaking into your boat, your papers won’t get all soggy.

  4—DO YOU REALLY NEED IT?

  Some of the cruisers we’ve talked to told us that they found that there were lots of things that they had on land that they ended up not needing once they moved aboard. One of the guys tried to tell me that I could get by with just one pair of shoes and two pairs of underwear on-board. Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen. This girl likes her shoes and underwear isn’t something you should ever skimp on in my opinion.

  5—E-READERS

  One of the things I was most upset about losing in the fire was my collection of books. While I like my e-reader, there’s something special about holding a real book in your hands and turning the pages. But, if you live on a boat, storage space for books is at a premium, so it makes sense to switch to e-books.

  6—STORAGE UNITS

  One couple we know decided to rent a storage unit for the first couple of years they lived aboard their boat. They weren’t sure if the cruising lifestyle was going to work for them and they hated the idea of getting rid of precious keepsakes and family heirlooms in case they decided to move back on land.

  7—SAVE SPACE FOR CAT STUFF

  Mrs. Moto wanted me to make sure to remind everyone that the most important thing to do when downsizing is to remember that you need to leave plenty of room on your boat for cat food, toys, and litter. In her opinion, humans can get by just fine with one pair of shoes and two pairs of underwear which leaves more space for catnip mice.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thank you so much for reading my book! If you enjoyed it, I’d be grateful if you would consider leaving a short review on the site where you purchased it. Reviews help other readers find my books and encourage me to keep writing.

  My experiences buying our first sailboat with my husband in New Zealand (followed by our second sailboat in the States), learning how to sail, and living aboard our boats inspired me to write the Mollie McGhie Sailing Mysteries. There’s a little bit of Mollie in me.

  Be on the lookout for the third book in the series, Poisoned by the Pier. You can sign up for my free newsletter at ellenjacobsonauthor.com/newsletter for updates on new releases.

  I want to thank my wonderful beta readers who were so generous with their time, graciously reading earlier drafts and providing insightful and thoughtful feedback: Alexandra Palcic, Duwan Dunn, Elizabeth Seckman, Greg Sifford, Liesbet Collaert, Rebecca Douglass, and Sara Barnard. I also want to thank Tina Riley and Tyrean Martinson for their support and advice. Most of all, I want to thank my husband, Scott Jacobson, for his input and encouragement throughout the process. I couldn’t do it without him.

  The staff and boaters at Indiantown Marina in Florida deserve a special shout-out. The community at the marina is wonderful. It’s been a lovely place to write both Murder at the Marina and Bodies in the Boatyard.

  The followers of my blog, The Cynical Sailor, have been a huge source of inspiration. Their kind words and encouragement motivated me to publish my first book and continue writing. I’ve been fortunate to have made good friends (both virtual and in-person) through the blogging community.

  Thank you to everyone who made suggestions about murder weapons and methods on Facebook, my blog, via e-mail, and in person. Everyone had such great ideas that it was hard to decide how to kill off the victims in Bodies in the Boatyard. In the end, I went with a couple of suggestions made by more than one person.

  As always, many thanks to Chris Brogden at EnglishGeek Editing (englishgeekediting.com) for his keen eye, thoughtful edits, and support. He goes above and beyond the call of duty, for which I am very grateful.

  And many, many thanks to all of my readers. Your support and encouragement means everything.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ellen Jacobson is a chocolate obsessed cat lover who writes cozy mysteries and romantic comedies. After living on a sailboat for many years, she now travels around in a teeny-tiny camper with her husband and an imaginary cat named Simon. Her Mollie McGhie cozy mystery series, featuring a reluctant sailor turned amateur sleuth, is inspired by her own sailing adventures and misadventures living aboard sailboats in New Zealand and the States. Her Smitten with Travel romantic comedy series is inspired by her life as an expat in Scotland and New Zealand and passion for exploring new countries and learning about new cultures.

  Find out more at ellenjacobsonauthor.com

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  ALSO BY ELLE
N JACOBSON

  The Mollie McGhie Cozy Sailing Mystery Series

  Robbery at the Roller Derby (Prequel Novella)

  Murder at the Marina (Book #1)

  Bodies in the Boatyard (Book #2)

  Poisoned by the Pier (Book #3)

  Buried by the Beach (Book#3.5)

  Dead in the Dinghy (Book #4)

  Shooting by the Sea (Book #5)

  Overboard on the Ocean (Book #6)

  The Mollie McGhie Sailing Mystery Collection: Books 1-3

  The Smitten with Travel Romantic Comedy Series

  Smitten with Ravioli (Book #1)

  Smitten with Croissants (Book #2)

  Smitten with Strudel (Book #3)

  A SNEAK PEEK OF POISONED BY THE PIER