Undercover Cruise
A Maggie McFarlin Mystery
Charisse Peeler
Contents
Title Page
Friday
Chapter 1
Saturday
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Sunday
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Monday
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Tuesday
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Wednesday
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Thursday
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Friday
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Saturday
Chapter 22
Sunday
Chapter 23
Books By This Author
For
My Husband
Michael Alan Peeler
Friday
Chapter 1
Salisbury, North Carolina
Maggie had been on the road for almost ten hours. Her right leg had cramped because she refused to use the cruise control. She was still sixty-two miles from Salisbury, where she had already reserved a room at the Courtyard.
Only a few months had passed since she last had seen Mike Marker, the former Palm Beach County detective. Their occasional texts and phone calls were nice, but she was looking forward to seeing him in person.
Hurricane season meant road trip for Maggie. She spent a week in Nashville for Hurricane Ivan and two weeks in Panama City for Hurricane Loren. Two weeks without electricity was not an option at her age or her level of tolerance.
This time it wasn’t a hurricane pushing her to drive north but an invitation to spend some time at her friend’s cabin in the Smoky Mountains. And why not? She had never been there and it was the perfect excuse to stop by and see the handsome detective.
Maggie wasn’t sure what her relationship with Mike was—friends for sure, with just a bit of harmless flirting and liking each other’s Facebook posts. Any real hope for anything other than a long-distance friendship had pretty much vanished when Mike retired and moved 731 miles back home to Salisbury…and the fact he was now responsible for his fourteen-year-old daughter.
The miles continued. Finally, when Maggie was less than ten miles away, she stopped one last time to gas up and let her nerves settle. She also was hungry; her last meal was an egg muffin at five o’clock that morning, when she left Boca.
As the pump worked, she pulled out her phone and texted Mike her ten minute arrival. Mike’s response was instant. He lived close by, and he would meet her at the hotel. She would have no time to freshen up.
There were plenty of open parking spots when she arrived at the hotel, so she picked one closest to the front entrance, but before she got out, she ran a brush through her tangled hair. She used the rearview mirror to look at the result, but she only saw dark circles under her eyes.
She grabbed her pocketbook from the passenger seat and got out, stretching her back as she walked through the automatic doors. She headed straight to the woman standing at the reception counter. Then she awkwardly dug in the front pocket of her bag, finally finding her Florida driver’s license and credit card. She handed them to the woman.
“I think he is waiting for you,” the woman said, pointing behind Maggie.
Maggie turned. “Mike,” she said, smiling, “I walked right past you.”
“You did,” Mike said, placing his strong arms around her then bringing her in for a hug.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the remnants of his aftershave and feeling safe for the first time in a long time. That is what Mike did for her; he made her feel safe. She finally let go when their embrace became too awkward.
“You look great,” she said, “been hitting the gym, I see.” She stood back an arm’s length to admire the six-foot tall former detective.
He looked right back at her with a wide smile and those amazing blue eyes that felt like they could pierce your soul. He had lost his Florida tan but a charismatic glow still surrounded him. Butterflies tickled Maggie’s insides.
“Well, you are definitely a sight for sore eyes,” he said, looking her up and down, making her more aware of her own thick middle and her menopausal mustache she hadn’t waxed in three weeks.
Maggie shifted her gaze. She noticed the woman behind the desk patiently waiting, holding out the small envelope with her key card and internet password. The woman was watching them with amusement.
Maggie walked over and took the small package. “Thank you,” she said, noticing the woman had given her two key cards instead of just one.
“Have a nice time.” The woman smiled, tilting her head toward Mike.
Maggie blushed and turned back to Mike, He was still watching her, his arms folded across his chest.
“How is the cat business?” Maggie asked, hoping to distract him.
“Funny you should ask,” Mike said, smiling wide. “I found a lost dog just this morning. The reward was fifty bucks, increasing our dining options. We can even afford Applebee’s for dinner if you would like.”
“So there’s an Applebee’s nearby. Good to know I haven’t totally left civilization.” Maggie paused to make sure she hadn’t offended Mike. “I’m starving. Is there a local favorite nearby?”
“I have the perfect spot.” Mike smiled again. “Definitely local.”
“Hopefully, they have more than tapas,” Maggie said, feeling the rumbling in her stomach.
“ ‘Tapas’—as in small plates of food, right?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Yes, what else would I be talking about?”
“Boy, are you in for a big surprise.” He motioned her to follow him.
“I love sampling local cuisine,” Maggie said as Mike opened the car door to let her in. Maggie detected a bit of a southern accent in Mike’s voice that she had never noticed in Florida.
After driving for not much more than a mile, Mike pulled into the dirt parking lot of a small shack-like building. The sign hanging in front of the building read Shake Shack. A large covered front porch area with several long picnic-style tables took up most of the space in front of the building. The screen door creaked as they walked in, slamming hard behind them. They walked directly to a rustic counter, where a middle-aged woman greeted them with a big Southern smile. Several small tables lined one of the walls, but the majority of the seating was outside.
Behind the counter, a shoulder-high pass-through separated the grill in the kitchen from the customer area. Hand-painted signs displaying the menu options hung on the wall above the pass-through.
“What are you having?” Maggie asked Mike, hoping for some insight.
“They have a great chicken sandwich.”
“That sounds good,” she said, looking over the short drink menu.
Mike ordered chicken sandwiches and Cheerwine for both of them. The woman behind the counter wrote the order on a small pad, tore off the page, and placed it on a clothespin. The fry cook pulled it to the other side and began grilling. Mike handed the woman a few bills.
“Keep the change,” Mike said as he pulled open an old-fashioned cooler next to the register. He pulled out two bottles and motioned Maggie to the door. They sat across from each other at the end of one of the long tables. Mike handed Maggie her bottle. She looked at it, confused.
“Wh
at’s the matter?” Mike asked.
“Cheerwine?” Maggie held it up. “Is there actually any wine in it?”
Mike laughed. “You never had a Cheerwine?”
“I never even heard of it,” she said, shaking her head. She twisted off the top and took a drink as Mike watched her.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Sweet…but refreshing. It tastes like a cherry cola. If it had wine in it, it would be even better. Don’t you think it’s false advertising?” She smiled, holding the bottle up.
“It’s a Southern thing,” he said, tipping back his bottle. He finished the last of his drink just as the woman who had taken their order delivered their sandwiches.
“Have you been doing any writing?” Mike asked.
“Not really. I’m still struggling with the creative side of my brain, but I did sign up for an online course to become a certified private investigator.”
Mike nodded. “I’m impressed.”
“The only thing is, I’ll have to work two years with a licensed P-I before I can be independent…but I did get this.” Maggie fumbled through her wallet then pulled out her concealed weapons permit and laid it on the table.
“Now I am impressed.” He paused. Suddenly his face looked panicked. “You aren’t carrying now, are you?”
“No, Mike, but North Carolina is a reciprocal state, so technically I could carry. But I didn’t bring it, because what if I decide to drive into a state that doesn’t reciprocate.”
“Smart girl,” Mike said, relieved. “Did you give up writing entirely?”
“No, I still do some technical writing once in a while, but I’ve turned down more jobs than I’ve accepted. I’ve just lost my passion for it. Honestly, I’m looking forward to the P-I thing.”
A muted buzzing caused Mike to hold up his index finger as he fished his phone out of his pocket. He looked down at the screen with a worried expression. “Excuse me,” he said. He pushed a button then held the phone to his ear.
Maggie could tell something was wrong. She watched Mike’s eyes move back and forth. Occasionally, he looked at her, but he was not saying much.
“Okay, I’m on my way.” Mike stood and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up at a few odd angles.
“Everything okay?” Maggie asked.
“We need to go,” he said.
“Okay, no problem.” Maggie stood. “Is everything okay?”
Without answering Mike cleared the table of all the remnants of their meal, wadding it all together, even Maggie’s half-eaten sandwich. Then he threw it all in the large trash can sitting at the edge of the porch. “It’s my sister,” Mike finally replied. “Something is going on at work. Do you mind if we stop at my house before I take you back?”
“No problem,” Maggie said, “I’m in no rush.”
Mike’s house was only five minutes away. His sister’s car was already parked in the driveway when they pulled up.
“Do you want me to wait here?” Maggie asked.
“No way, come on in, let’s see what’s going on. Heck, you might be able to help.”
“Whatever I can do,” Maggie said, but even as she climbed out of Mike Marker’s car, she had the uncomfortable feeling she did not know what she was getting herself into.
Mike’s sister, Joanie, was waiting by the back door when Mike and Maggie walked around the garage. Joanie was a surprisingly petite woman with shoulder-length brown hair. She was wearing a dark blue suit with a light blue shirt under the jacket. Maggie would have had a hard time imagining Joanie and Mike were related if it hadn’t been for their matching bright blue eyes.
Mike unlocked the back door. “What’s going on, sis?” he said, motioning the two women inside.
“Who is this?” Joanie said. She pointed to Maggie as if Maggie couldn’t hear her rudeness.
“Oh, sorry,” Mike said. “This is my friend, Maggie, from Boca.”
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend in Boca,” Joanie said.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Mike said, a little too adamantly.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Maggie added, just in case it wasn’t clear.
Joanie rolled her eyes Then she sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. Mike and Maggie sat across from her, waiting for her to tell them what had happened.
“It’s Aunt Millie,” she said, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
“What happened to Aunt Millie?” Mike asked. “Is she okay?”
“She isn’t hurt, or anything, but all her money is gone. And it’s all my fault.” Tears now ran down both her cheeks...”
“What do you mean all her money is gone, and why would it be all your fault?” Mike asked.
Joanie took a deep breath before explaining. “It was almost five o’clock. Aunt Millie came into the bank. I was in my office, closing down for the day. I wasn’t paying attention when the clerk came in for my approval. I didn’t look at the amount on the check. I just signed it since I knew Aunt Millie was planning on remodeling her master bathroom.”
“How much was it for?” Mike asked.
“At first, I thought it was ten thousand dollars, but when my daily receipts were off, I went through the transactions and saw my authorization for a hundred thousand.”
“Aunt Millie had a hundred thousand dollars in the bank?” Mike asked, surprised.
“No, Mike,” Joanie said, putting both hands on her face. “She had over a million dollars—and it’s all gone. Her entire life savings!”
“Why would she have a million dollars in a bank instead of with an investment company?”
“It’s that generation,” Joanie said. “Honestly, I’m surprised Aunt Millie didn’t hide it under a mattress or in a coffee can buried in the back yard.”
Mike placed a fist under his chin, his elbow on the table. He took a minute to himself, lost in his thoughts.
Finally, he sat back. “How is it possible? Doesn’t the bank have controls in place for this sort of thing?”
“That’s the problem, no red flags,” Joanie said, wiping her face. “I didn’t see the full effect until I closed the books for the day. There was too much variance in the bank’s assets. I looked and analyzed everything. My cashier issued ten checks made out in Aunt Millie’s name, each for one hundred thousand dollars.”
“So now, Aunt Millie has ten cashier’s checks for a hundred thousand dollars?” Mike asked.
“No.” Joanie narrowed her eyes. “When I called Aunt Millie and told her there might be a problem with her account, she said she already knew. I started to breathe normally until she explained that she was working with a bank examiner.”
“So why is that a problem?” Mike asked.
“It’s a scam, Michael! There is no bank examiner. Aunt Millie is being scammed. It happens to a lot of older people. Someone poses as an official. The mark, in this case Aunt Millie, believe they are part of an official investigation. They are excited to help.”
“Why?”
“I guess it gives them something to talk about with their friends at Bridge Club.”
“I guess we better go talk to Aunt Millie,” Mike said, looking at his watch.
“We can’t go tonight,” Joanie said.
“Why not?” Mike asked
“She went to bridge club.”
“Well, I guess there isn’t anything we can do tonight anyway,” Mike said. “Let’s meet here at eight tomorrow morning and head over together. I can use some time to work through a plan of action.”
Joanie walked out not saying goodbye. Mike and Maggie sat silently listening to her car door slam, and the engine fade into the distance.
Finally, Mike looked at Maggie. “Welcome to Salisbury.”
Saturday
Chapter 2
The Itinerary
Aunt Millie’s house was a modest brick home similar to most of the homes in the area. Whitewashed rocking chairs lined up across the wide covered
front porch. Large flower baskets hung at both ends. A large tulip tree shaded the driveway, where an older Chevrolet sedan was parked.
“It looks like she has company,” Maggie said.
“No, that’s her car,” Mike said.
“I thought you said your aunt was ninety-two?”
“She is.”
“She drives?”
“Yes, she does.” Mike smiled. “You’ll see.”
Joanie pulled in directly behind Mike and appeared next to Mike’s car door before he could even get out.
“Before we go in,” Joanie said, “I don’t think we should tell Aunt Millie the complete story.”
“Honestly, I think we should call the FBI and report the scam,” Mike said. He and Maggie stepped out of the car.
“What if we…or rather, you…can talk to Aunt Millie and convince her that her money isn’t gone, and it’s just part of the bank examiner’s test.”
Mike shook his head. “Lie to our ninety-two-year-old aunt?”
“Please, Mike, can you just look into it before we report it. I’ll lose my job. I could go to jail.”
“Who all knows what happened?” Maggie asked.
Joanie shot her a sideways glance. “Just me, aunt Millie, the teller, and the phony bank examiner,” Joanie said, returning her focus to her brother.
Mike took his flipbook from his front pocket and a pen. “Have you spoken with the teller?”
“I tried to call her last night, her phone was disconnected. I’ll text you her address, maybe you two can drive by and talk to her. I’ll bet she’s in on it somehow.”
“What’s her name?” Mike asked.
“Tina Turner,” Joanie said.
“Seriously?” Mike tilted his head.
“That is her real name,” Joanie said.
Mike wrote it down, shaking his head.
“Do you think she was using an alias?” Maggie asked.
“That’s an excellent question,” Mike said.
“What are you going to do, Mike?” Joanie asked.
“I’ll talk to Aunt Millie and let you know,” Mike said.
Undercover Cruise (A Maggie McFarlin Mystery Book 2) Page 1