Panic at the Pier

by Mel McCoy

  “No way these are store bought,” Sarah said between bites.

  “They aren’t,” Larry said. “Homemade, as usual.”

  Emma picked one up, eyeing it closer. “Uh-huh.”

  “These are up there with Fudderman’s treats,” Sarah said, onto her second brownie.

  Larry’s eyes lit up and he ignored Emma. “This is why you’re my favorite granddaughter.”

  Emma gasped. “Hey!”

  They chatted over brownies and the afternoon slipped by. A few customers came in, purchasing some small-ticket items. By the end of the day, after tallying up the total sales for the day, Sarah noted that her grandpa seemed pleased.

  After closing up shop, they all went upstairs to the apartment.

  Relaxation was on the agenda.

  Misty swept by Larry’s legs in the kitchen as he cooked up dinner.

  Emma laid on the couch, a book in hand, with Winston nearby, napping.

  Sarah joined her cousin in the living room, choosing her grandpa’s recliner—the coziest spot in the apartment. She curled up and felt Rugby’s large head on her lap. She ran a finger between his eyes and they closed slowly.

  “What are you reading?” Sarah asked.

  “Murder mystery.”

  “Any good?”

  Emma huffed. “I’d like to find out, so…”

  Sarah looked down at Rugby, his eyes still shut. “Sorry, Em.”

  Looking over at Emma, she saw the book was now flat down on her chest and her eyes were shut.

  “What’s wrong?” Sarah asked.

  “I just keep thinking about everything that’s going on.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “A potential killer is on the loose.”

  “A person of interest,” Sarah corrected.

  Emma’s eyes opened. “But this—”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions again,” Larry called from the kitchen.

  “Maybe I am,” Emma said. “But things just don’t sit right…”

  Sarah leaned back. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  “Can you call Adam? Get the latest news. He’s sweet on you.”

  “Yeah. But he would have told me by now if anything had changed. Or if they’d found Orloff.”

  It was true. Adam would have called her to tell her what was really going on. And she didn’t want to be too pushy in calling him to find out.

  Maybe nothing had changed.

  Or maybe…

  Sarah reached into her phone to check to see if she had any messages from Adam. She’d remembered to turn the phone’s volume up but hadn’t heard it ring.

  When she pressed the side button on her phone, the device didn’t light up.

  “Hmm.”

  She tried again, but it still didn’t work.

  Getting up from the recliner, she stepped over to her backpack. She checked for her charger, but it wasn’t in the bag.

  She pulled on her sneakers and made her way toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” Larry asked. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

  “Out to my car quick. I think I left my phone charger out there.”

  A pot clanged as Larry drained the pasta into a colander in the sink. “Okay, I’ll have the meatballs ready in a minute, so be quick.”

  “I will.”

  Rugby walked over to the door where Sarah stood. He looked up at her expectantly.

  “Stay here, boy.”

  Sarah went out the door, car keys in hand.

  She closed the door behind her and descended the stairs, then made her way out of the building. Once outside, she turned left and hurried along the sidewalk.

  The moon wasn’t as bright as the previous night, half concealed by clouds. She was glad that her grandpa had left an outside light on in front of the store. Perhaps he kept the light on to thwart any burglars who may have made a second attempt on his quaint boutique.

  Sarah walked toward her car, which was parked past the Bait and Tackle shop. She usually liked to leave the parking spots directly outside the boutique open for their customers, and did the same for the friendly couple who owned the neighboring shop.

  Beyond her car, she saw Larry’s Pinto. A nearby streetlight revealed the hatchback sedan’s lime green color.

  She frowned, staring at the ancient relic. “I would’ve gone with any other color.”

  Unlocking her Corolla with the press of a button on her key fob, she heard the locking mechanism click.

  She opened the passenger door, and the overhead cabin light illuminated the interior.

  “There you are,” she said, grabbing her charger from the passenger seat.

  Closing the door, she pressed the key fob once again and heard the car chirp, confirming that it was indeed locked.

  She half-turned when she spotted a hooded figure off to her right.

  She gasped and froze, like her feet were cemented to the sidewalk.

  Was it the burglar from the previous night?

  Was he back to finish the deed?

  Or perhaps it was the killer…

  Seconds crept by and she wanted to run, but somehow her legs wouldn’t work.

  Quickly, the person pulled their hood back and she saw the man’s face. He was tall and had dark hair. But it was the raven tattoo on the side of his neck that made her gasp. The man looked upset, frazzled almost.

  Before Sarah could say anything to the man, he turned and rushed into a doorway.

  As the door closed slowly behind him, she could hear the man’s boots echo in the stairwell as he ascended the steps to the second floor of the neighboring building.

  “Is that…”

  A wave of energy coursed through her as she had a flash of realization.

  “Of course!”

  Sarah raced back up to her grandpa’s apartment, found the closest power outlet, and plugged her phone in.

  In a matter of seconds, it had charged enough for her to power it on.

  Sarah dialed Adam, her heart racing faster with each second she waited for him to answer.

  “C’mon…c’mon…”

  Finally, she heard his voice. It was groggy; she hoped she didn’t wake him. Too bad, she thought. This is too important.

  “Adam,” she said, gripping the phone tighter. “You’ll never believe who I just saw.”

  Chapter 11

  “Who?” Adam asked, his voice still groggy.

  “Orloff Minsky.”

  “Really? Where is he now?”

  “He’s back in his apartment, above the Bait and Tackle shop next door.”

  “I know where he lives,” Adam said.

  Of course, she realized. His apartment was probably the first place they looked for him.

  “Thanks, Sarah,” came Adam’s voice again, disrupting her thoughts.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And Sarah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let me know if you see or hear anything else. Hopefully, once we question him, we’ll have a better understanding of what happened.”

  “Sure,” she said

  After they said their goodbyes, Sarah hung up the phone and left it on the charger.

  “Dinner’s served,” Larry said, placing a big bowl of pasta in the middle of the table. He rushed over to the kitchen and retrieved some plates, silverware, and napkins. There were already glasses of water on the table, and he asked, “Anyone want anything else to drink? Tea? Wine? Chocolate milk?”

  “Chocolate milk?” Emma asked, sitting on the couch. She set her whodunit mystery novel on the coffee table and stood up. “We’re not seven.”

  Larry carried over a bowl of meatballs in his secret tomato sauce and set it on the table. “Well, I have all of the above, so let me know.”

  “Water’s fine,” Emma said, lumbering over to the table.

  “Sarah?”

  “What?”

  “What do you want to drink?” Larry asked, hesitating to sit down.

  Sarah
took a seat at the table and eyed up the glass of water. “You said wine?”

  Larry smiled. “Let me tell you what I’ve got.”

  After selecting a bottle of wine, Larry poured two glasses.

  “Sure you don’t want any?” Larry asked Emma.

  Emma was already serving herself. She squinted to look at the bottle of wine, and asked, “Is that a Dunham Vineyards label I see?”

  Larry looked proud. “Sure is.”

  “No, thanks,” Emma said, and she took a sip of water.

  Resentment runs deep with Emma, Sarah thought. Marigold Dunham was a sweetheart as far as she was concerned, and she couldn’t understand why Emma was so bitter toward her.

  Larry brought two glasses over and set one by Sarah.

  “So, anything going on, Sarah?”

  “Well, I spotted Orloff out there—”

  “You what?” Emma asked. “When?”

  “When I was getting my charger. That’s why I was calling Adam a minute ago. Didn’t you hear me on the phone?”

  “I’ve been in and out,” Emma admitted. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  The screeching of brakes outside caught Sarah’s attention.

  “That’s probably Adam now.”

  Emma rose from the table in a hurry and rushed to the street-side picture window. Sarah followed her and saw her cousin’s face pressed against the glass.

  “No gawking,” Sarah said.

  “Oh, please.”

  Outside, Sarah could see two officers walking toward the entrance to Orloff’s apartment.

  Emma squinted. “Neither of them look like Adam.”

  “When I called him, he was groggy. He’s probably off duty and just called it in.”

  “Makes sense.”

  They stood and waited for several minutes.

  “Dinner’s getting cold,” came Larry’s voice from the table.

  Neither Sarah nor Emma paid any mind. They simply stood, waiting for confirmation that Orloff hadn’t slipped away into the night before the authorities could find him.

  Maybe Orloff was stopping by his apartment to get something he’d forgotten in his haste to get away. Sarah spotting him was likely the last thing he expected. Sarah shook her head, realizing that Emma was rubbing off on her. If she wasn’t careful, she would assume the man was guilty of—

  “Oh,” Emma said, her voice wire-tight. “I think I see…there he is. Look at that scowl on Orloff’s face.”

  Sarah leaned forward, getting a better look. So, the man hadn’t stopped by quickly only to disappear again. He was willingly going into the station, or so it seemed.

  Just then, Orloff looked up at them, his green eyes practically boring through her. She rushed away from the window, and Emma followed suit.

  “He’s going to think we’re creepers,” Sarah said.

  “I don’t care what he thinks. Not after what he did.”

  Sarah stared at her cousin, dumbfounded.

  “What?” Emma asked.

  “You read whodunit novels a lot, right? You should know that they are simply taking him down to the station for questioning. Stop jumping—”

  “—to conclusions. Got it,” Emma said, nodding, then made her way back over to the table. She twirled some spaghetti on her fork and swooped it up into her mouth. One last string of spaghetti was still hanging halfway down her chin by the time Sarah reached the table. Emma sucked the pasta in, making an obnoxious slurping sound.

  “So, about you not being seven,” Larry said, shaking his head. “I don’t believe it.”

  Sarah was taking a sip of wine when she heard Larry’s jab, and it took all the restraint she could muster not to spit it out in a fit of laughter.

  Larry raised his glass again, looking at Sarah.

  “To the police getting one step closer to solving this case,” Sarah said.

  She raised her glass and heard the clink sound when it tapped against Larry’s. She took a sip of wine and hoped that the case would be put to bed before the tourist season started up. It was vital to the well-being of the residents and business owners of Cascade Cove that it returned to its normal, idyllic state.

  After dinner, they settled in for the night.

  Larry allowed Sarah to enjoy his recliner while he sat at the dining room table, paging through one of Grandma’s scrapbooks.

  She sat there, cell phone fully charged and nearby.

  Emma was back on the couch, getting toward the end of her mystery story.

  Leaning back in the chair, Sarah thought about the hooded man who’d tried breaking in the previous night. Then she thought of the way Orloff was dressed in the same black hoodie.

  Her brow furrowed.

  None of it made any sense.

  Why would their neighbor try to break into their shop?

  For that matter, why would anyone try to break into a mom-and-pop pet boutique in a sleepy seaside town during what was technically still the off-season? Adam had said a burglar would be after the cash in the register, but during the off-season, they wouldn’t have much money at all.

  Then her mind focused on the fact that Orloff had been fired the day before Jacobs’ body was found.

  Maybe he was the killer—he certainly had the motive…

  Though there were still many unanswered questions that nagged at her.

  Soon, she’d find out from Adam about what they learned while questioning their prime suspect. She checked that her phone wasn’t accidentally on its silent mode. She wouldn’t want to miss that call.

  Until then, all she could do was wait.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, Sarah awoke to her cell phone’s ringtone. She reached to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. The caller ID showed Adam’s name and face.

  Sarah answered the call in a hurry.

  “What happened with Orloff?” Sarah asked, getting right to the point. Thinking about it had kept her up most of the night, and she was dying to know all of the details.

  “We just released him.”

  “What?” Sarah said, her voice louder. On the single bed next to hers, Emma turned in her sleep.

  Sarah got out of her bed and rushed out of the room, as to not disturb her cousin any more.

  “It wasn’t him,” Adam said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. He claims he was at his weekly poker night, got there around nine o’clock at night, at least three hours before the time of death. We have half a dozen guys who corroborated his story, so…”

  “Hmm.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So are we back to it being an accident, or—”

  “I wish that were the case. We’re officially in homicide territory now.”

  Sarah dropped the phone to the floor. She scrambled to pick it back up.

  “Sorry, Adam. Did you say homicide?”

  “Yeah. Not only do we have the signs of a struggle, we found blood and—”

  “Where?”

  “At his residence—Jacobs Manor.”

  “In his house, or—”

  “It was outside. Listen, we discovered it the morning his body was found. Long story short, we’ve confirmed that it was indeed Jacobs’ blood, and not somebody else’s, or an animal’s.”

  “So, if it wasn’t Orloff, then who do you think it could be?”

  “I’m not sure, but we’ll be questioning as many people as we can. Mr. Minsky was the most-likely suspect. With him exonerated, we’ll be going down our list.”

  “Oh my…” Sarah said.

  The silence on the other end lingered for a moment, then Adam asked, “Have you heard anything else through the grapevine?”

  “You mean…”

  “I know how gossip goes in the Cove. And I know that your grandpa is among the most popular people in the area. Since you’re his granddaughter…well, let’s just say, people trust you. Are more comfortable with you.”

  “Do you want me
to use my secret ninja skills?”

  “I was thinking more your people skills, being a teacher and quasi-caseworker.”

  Sarah was hesitant to answer. This was no longer a case where an accident was the probable cause with the signs of struggle being misconstrued “evidence.” Now, there was more solid evidence by the day, and a killer was most certainly on the loose. This fact made her wonder if she should even get involved—helping the police in any way could put her family in grave danger.

  But she knew that Adam needed her help. It was common knowledge that not everyone liked talking to the cops. Now, someone like her, whom everyone in the town had known since she was just a little girl…they would trust and confide in her.

  She could make a difference and help get justice for the murder of that crazy old coot, Mr. Jacobs. Not to mention, if she acted quickly, she could help to bring a sense of normalcy back to Cascade Cove before the summer season began. She was sure a Murder Town wouldn’t be at the top of vacationers’ list of destinations. If this case dragged on, the summer would surely be a bust, and her grandpa’s boutique…well, this might be the straw that broke that quaint little mom-and-pop shop to pieces.

  “Are you still there?” Adam asked.

  “Yeah. Are you sure about this?”

  “Yeah, but again, if you help, you’ll need to be discreet.”

  “I’ll do it. Cascade Cove means the world to me, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you catch the killer.”

  “Thanks, Sarah. Call me with any info you find.”

  “Will do.”

  They finished their call, and she slid the phone into the pocket of her pajamas.

  She felt a presence behind her and turned around.

  Emma stood there, slack-jawed.

  “How much of that did you hear?”

  Sarah knew she didn’t even have to ask.

  “So who are we going to question first?” Emma asked Sarah, pouring a bowl of cereal. She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, pouring it over the cereal.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Sarah said.

  “Well, who has any sort of motive?”

  “Jacobs was a landlord, and had just raised his rent, so that means any of his tenants had motive.”

  “Yeah, we know Patricia Greensmith was a tenant—”