“Interesting,” Hannah said. “What do you know about her?”
“Oh, not much, I suppose. She’s rich, of course. Made her money as a restaurant entrepreneur. Most of its tied up in Rosanna’s Italian Ristorante. She bought it as a single owner operation and turned it into a national franchise. Other than that, she stays under the radar in general.” Ducky paused before continuing, “I know that I read recently online that the chain was restructuring. Never a good sign. I think she’s at the festival looking for dishes to revamp the zip. It’s sort of become ‘that Italian restaurant.’ Kind of low-rent, mid-scale family place. I don’t think that’s the direction she wanted it to go in.”
“Not much? I’d say that’s a lot. You are interested in the work.”
“Can’t be a great chef if you don’t know what’s going on.” He turned the van into a parking spot and shut off the engine. Turning back to Hannah, he added, “I’d imagine that’s why she’s interested in you. Culinary consulting. Revamping the chain means revamping the menu. That’s your job, right?”
Ducky exited the vehicle, came to the other side and opened the door for everyone. As he did, Hannah deliberated his assessment. Wanted to meet me about a new menu. Reasonable, but why lie about her relationship with Elias? She slid out the door and popped on her top hat. Smiling at Ducky, she also pondered, why do you know so much about everyone?
Peering toward the docks, Hannah could see a large yacht anchored out in the water. He’s right. Not like anything, I’ve ever seen. It was black, just as Ducky described, but Hannah imagined it as a modern watercraft. A sleek, engine driven transport. This was very different. From her visage point, it sported three large sails. In the waning daylight, the aura of the sun’s rays illuminated it. It displayed an unnatural glow like the Flying Dutchman headed to shore, she compared.
Ducky pointed to the ship as he pulled out Hymn’s wheelchair. “There she is.”
Papa Jay eyed the ship. “I’ll be shenagled, a three masted topsail schooner. Been a long time since I set foot on one of them.”
“Were you there when they built the first one,” Gran issued, half giggling.
“Can’t rightly say. How long did you sit on the plans before you decided to build it?” he replied.
“All right, you two, play nice. Ducky, lead the way.”
As ordered, Ducky led everyone down to the dock, pushing Hymn, despite his initial resistance at the help. Everyone made their way down and boarded a wooden transport boat. He then guided the craft out to the yacht. Pulling alongside, a ramp lowered. A crew member helped everyone on board. Hannah turned back to Ducky.
“You coming?”
“Can’t, I got a few other runs to make. I’ll be back later to pick you folks up. Maybe you could introduce me to Mr. Woolridge then, or at the festival tomorrow.”
Hannah agreed as Ducky gave a Boy Scout salute and pulled the transport away from the main craft. Hannah watched him speed away toward the docks before she ascended the deck.
Once topside, Hannah assessed everything. The ship appeared to be between 125 and 150 feet in length. The entirety of the hull was black, which she noted as being unusual for such crafts. More unusual were the gray sails. After a few, quick inquiries with the crew member who guided them aboard, she found it held a crew of eight. There were accommodations for ten to twelve guests should the necessity arise. Hannah listened as a man introduced himself as Captain Thomas ‘Tom’ Bigby. He then stated, “That never happens. Mr. Karas likes his privacy when he is on-board.”
Hannah gave the captain her usual profiling. 6’1” or 6’2”. Balding. Pencil thin mustache. Thin frame. Well mannered. Sixties. She then asked, “By the way, what’s her name.”
Bigby was about to answer when she again heard the familiar thumping in rapid succession. Hannah, Papa Jay, and Gran stared down the main deck. A large, black form ran straight toward them. Gran pulled up snuggly next to her husband, but Hannah stood her ground. Hannah bent to one knee and waited. “Critic,” she called and patted the ground beside her. The hound bounded up, giving his usual slobbery licks and love. Papa Jay pointed to Critic.
“Now that’s a dog. Not a dog wannabe.”
“Gigantor could take him,” Gran insisted. She tugged at her ear. “Well, he would try anyway.”
Seconds later, Louie made his way to everyone. “Ahoy, there. Critic, sit.” The canine responded as commanded, tail still sweeping the deck. “Good boy,” Louie said, rewarding him with an ear scratch. Hannah watched as Critic’s leg scratched the air with appreciation, causing her to laugh.
Turning to her grandparents, Louie offered his hand, shaking each in turn. “You must be Jayland and Sindee. Louie Woolridge.”
“Shush, call me Gran, everybody does. Call him Old Grumpus, everybody does.”
Papa Jay said, “Call her annoying, everybody does.”
“Oh, you, come here.” She gave her husband a smooch, amusing Louie.
“Come on, boy.” Louie tapped the side of his thigh as Critic stood. “Everyone’s in the saloon,” he said. “Follow me.” He turned and headed toward the stern of the ship as Critic matched his footfalls.
Hannah leaned over to Papa Jay and whispered, “Saloon?”
“Another word for dining room, where they serve drinks.”
Soon everyone was in the dining area. Vera smiled and greeted Hannah and Hymn with a hug. Introductions to Marquette Roux and Malcolm Bernard, Vera’s boyfriend, followed. Hannah recalled him from their first encounter in Zebulon. 6’0”. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. Muscular. Works out. Mole. Left cheekbone. Thin nose. Warm smile. Deep, booming voice. Shy.
Everyone took a seat around a small dining table. Vera invited Bigby to join them. She informed the steward to serve dinner.
“Settled in to the big life, have we,” Hannah said with a grin.
Vera shook her head. “It’s a lot to take in. I’m still not used to it all. I do not want it to go to my head, but on nights like this, it is nice, I must admit.”
“Ms. Bessinger has taken admirably to sea life,” Bigby chimed in with a wide smirk.
Everyone laughed at his emphasis on the word admirably.
The main topic of conversation at first was to get to know the Captain, and just to catch up. Bigby and Papa Jay hit it off as both are retired from the U.S. Navy. Bigby held the same rank as the position he currently served for Karas International, that of captain. Papa Jay served as a steward.
“A cook if you call a rose a rose. Slop slinger. Burger flipper. Mess maker. Called us all sorts of things.” He looked around the room and half whispered, “Lots of words, not mentionable around you ladies, too.”
Papa Jay’s accounting gave everyone a good laugh, especially Bigby. “Can’t say I ever ate the best meal in the Navy, but I never cussed you boys once. You kept my ribs spread apart well enough,” he added. Again, big laughter.
Hannah was grateful for the distraction. Still, her thoughts turned to Hymn and how much she enjoyed this round of company with him here. Sweet Face, rolled through her mind, and she caught him giving her smiles as everyone talked.
Her thoughts came back to the present when Vera spoke about how her life changed since meeting Hannah. A result of that meeting, led to her inheriting over fifty million dollars. The heiress spoke of Asa, her stepfather, and his kindness and generosity. She covered the show she produced and talked of Jazlyn and her developing relationship with both her father and Malcolm. She glowed at the mention of the latter’s name. Malcolm blushed and smiled. Louie glowed to see his daughter’s face light up.
Louie talked about meeting Marquette, sister of Vera’s adoptive mother, Nora. Looking to her, he said, “Ours, it’s a work in progress,” he said of their relationship. With Critic sitting point between the two, Louie added, “And Critic likes her so…”
“Oh, you and that beast,” Marquette issued with a stern face before turning it into a grin. She leaned over for a quick kiss and reached down to scratch the dog’s head.
The happy thumping of the big tail against the floor amused everyone. Listening, Hannah was glad to see him move on past Vera’s real mother, the late Julia Karas.
As expected, the conversation turned to the ongoing investigation.
“So sad,” Vera commented. “As I told you before, we were going to meet tonight, in fact, here. I wanted him to come along with his wife. The plan was for us all to have dinner together. I called Cate, and she said you brought your grandparents.” She looked to Hannah. “And Hymn was coming, of course, but then this. It’s so troubling.”
Louie leaned back in his chair. “So, you found him on the car. Was he unconscious?”
“Believe it or not, he was still awake. It didn’t last long though.”
“And I take it he didn’t say what happened. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be looking into it.”
Hannah indicated no. “He just said Dahlia and passed out.”
Louie’s face contorted into a hard grimace. Bigby shot straight up from his chair. Marquette and Malcolm looked puzzled.
Vera stiffened before her mouth fell open. “Dahlia?” she exclaimed.
The father and daughter’s reaction, along with that of the captain, caught Hannah, Hymn, Papa Jay and Gran off guard. Hannah studied them for a second before asking, “Do you know what it means?”
“I should say we all do,” Bigby answered.
Vera, face pale, paused for what Hannah took to be an eternity. Bigby interceded and explained. “You’re sitting in her.”
At first, Hannah did not understand. She scanned around her chair. It seemed to be an ordinary chair: leather seat and back, ebony frame. Maybe a little more expensive, but it was a chair all the same. She looked up to Vera.
“Not the chair, the ship. This is Dahlia,” Bigby clarified.
The information floored the sleuth.
Hannah turned to Papa Jay and Gran. “I was off, way off. It’s not a person. It’s this yacht.”
Chapter Eleven
“But it makes… no… sense,” Hannah confirmed.
“It might, dear,” Gran insisted. “He just took a four story fall to the top of a car. Who knows what goes through one’s head when something like that happens.”
All eyes fell on Hannah as she leaned back and took it in. Her signature move distorted her cheeks and lips as she twisted her nose to and fro. Could I be chasing a phantom? Last thing to rush through a wounded man’s mind? Is it that simple? She bobbed her head, staring at the plate the steward placed before her. “I suppose, but he seemed so determined as if he was trying to tell me why.”
Louie picked up his fork and looked across the table to Hannah. “When I was in the army years back, one of my platoon buddies, Dennis, stepped on a mine and blew his legs off. You remember Cate’s father, Wilson?”
Hannah, Papa Jay and Gran all affirmed. Everyone else listened. Papa Jay added, “Good man, good family and good people. Know them well.”
Louie smiled. “Well, we served together. We were the first to reach him. Just before Dennis died, the last thing he said was, ‘call Buzzard’.” Several months later, Will and I worked up the courage to go talk to his family. His sister asked us about that day. With some reluctance, we told her about it. Will mentioned his last words and said we could never find out who Buzzard was. She gave us this odd look. Turns out it was his dog that died when he was nine.” Louie pushed at the food on his plate. “Just a random, last thought.” He peered straight at Hannah. “Maybe it’s the same with your friend.”
When he finished, Vera reached over and squeezed her father’s hand. “Elias was supposed to meet us here,” Vera said, turning to Hannah. “It could have been on his mind right before whatever happened… happened.”
Hannah blew out a breath and sighed. Her brow furrowed and to herself, she acknowledged the sound logic of her friend’s observations. “Well, one piece of the puzzle is solved,” she replied to all, with a disheartened smile. Though she was willing to consider the idea of Dahlia being nothing but a random thought, she maintained a hint of internal doubt. For her, confirmation that it indeed meant nothing had to come before she would dismiss it altogether. Besides, I still need to know who and why, she commented to herself. She figured that if Dahlia did mean something, it would come to life at some point in her investigation.
Wanting to flip the conversation, Hannah refocused on Bigby. “On to more pleasant things. So, Captain, what’s life like aboard the Dahlia?”
“Quiet, to tell the truth, other than the occasional attempted stowaway. I’m hoping Ms. Bessinger will change that. Mr. and Mrs. Karas used to use her often before. Well, now, we sail up and down the coast, and upon occasion, make our way over to the Illinois River and down the Mississippi. As a matter of fact, Ms. Bessinger has requested that route home.”
Hannah glanced over at Vera who shrugged with a smile. “I need a few weeks of vacation. Asa insisted.” She took Malcolm’s hand, lifted it, and kissed its back. “And I have my personal bodyguard along. So, I will enjoy the cruise and run the show from here.”
The sleuth glanced back to Bigby. “You’re living the life of Riley.”
Bigby laughed. “While Riley was away, yes.”
“What do you do with the stowaways?” Gran asked.
Bigby leaned toward Gran and assumed a stern look. He raised a pointed finger toward the ceiling for added emphasis. “Why, madam, we throw them in the brig, toss them overboard, or make them walk the plank.”
Everyone laughed again.
Leaning back, the seamen explained. “No, in truth, I just give them a stern talking to and send them away for the most part. Most get scared and leave before they even get caught. You just find where they’ve been aboard. Usually, it is in the liquor cabinet.”
“Happen often?”
“No, just every now and again, but I did have one, I think, about four or five days ago.”
Hannah became intrigued. She leaned forward, placed her elbows on the table, and waited for the captain to continue. Seeing this, he made a ‘hmm’ sound and continued as everyone listened.
“It was nothing. I was staying ashore with a friend. The crew was on leave, except for Patrick, our boatswain. He reported finding a jar of pickled beets on the counter. Being the only one aboard for two days, and having a strong aversion to the things, he knew there was a stowaway.”
“Who doesn’t,” Papa Jay inserted. “Don’t know anyone who eats them.”
Bigby chuckled. “Me neither, not even sure why we have them on board. Anyway, Pat knew he did not leave it there. After a ship search turned up no one, he logged the incident. He figured it was the typical local looking for food, or in all probability, alcohol. When they didn’t find it, they left.”
“Nothing missing?”
Bigby shook his head. “Since he had the time, he did a full inventory, and found nothing missing, nothing out of place.”
“Except for the beets.”
Bigby half laughed. “Except for the beets. Like I said, someone was looking for something, didn’t find it and left.” He grinned and added, “Maybe, somewhere out there, there’s a martini sans an olive.”
Hannah smiled and nodded. “Of course, you’ll forgive me. I’m a bit of a nosy nelly.”
“Oh shush,” Gran interrupted, “she’s a first rate detective. That’s how she met these two,” she added, talking to Bigby and pointing to Vera and Louie. Turning to Hymn, she winked, “And Hymn and her.”
“True,” Vera affirmed, “and how I found my father, and found out Asa was my stepfather. And found Malcolm in a way.”
“And inherited over fifty million dollars,” Louie tossed in.
Bigby’s eyes widened and intrigue played across his face. “I’ve not heard the full story, would you mind?”
Everyone turned their attention to Vera, but Hannah remained lost in consideration. She tried to establish a timeline. Her mind clicked off a possible event list. Elias said Dahlia, clear as day, she noted. That was yesterday. Janine and he
arrived in Gresham a week before the festival started, which was today. He talked to Vera at some point after she found out about Marlon Humphries and she was asked to come in his place. She wanted to meet him on the Dahlia. Someone made it onto the Dahlia four days ago. Elias? She smiled to let everyone know she listened. In truth, her mind was focused on her investigation. Whoever came aboard took nothing, but misplaced something in their search. She paused to think it through. Looking for something. His truffles? Maybe taken earlier rather than at the time of the fall. Why turn to the Dahlia? She glanced around at everyone, who now listened to Gran as she recounted one of her adventures.
Based on what she knew of her friends and her gut instinct, Hannah dismissed them as suspects. But Bigby and his crew, she pondered, what about them? Did Elias know something? Recalling her conversation with the gourmet, he mentioned smuggling and the black market. She also noted Bigby’s comment that Asa Karas rarely used the yacht anymore. He owned the ship and Hannah knew he was an eccentric, but she inquired internally, would he maintain a ship’s complement when unneeded? It did not make logical business sense to her. Asa is a brilliant billionaire businessman first, Hannah affirmed. She scratched her jaw before suppressing the urge to wiggle her nose and give herself away. She determined the need to check into the captain. Free access to a large ship. A precarious employment situation. Pilots a ship whose name is Dahlia. Coincidence or conspiracy, Hannah contemplated. Another piece to a much larger puzzle than before, she added, though in silence. She rubbed her temples. A headache brewed due to her deep brainstorming.
“Are you okay?” Hymn interrupted, bringing her back to the present conversation.
“Just thinking.”
“About the case?”
“You know me too well.”
Hymn reached over and took her hand, lifted it and gave it a kiss.
“Well, don’t let it spoil an otherwise good time,” he tossed out with a smile.
Smiles ensued all around as Hannah joined in on the conversation.
The Billionaire Chef Page 11