Martin had been listening to my conversation with Hildie and seemed more anxious than I was. He’d stopped perusing the selection of weapons in a glass case near the front of the store, and followed us.
“I heard about what happened to Jake.” Hildie paused to glance at me over her shoulder. “There are even rumors going around that Max is responsible.” She winced at my intimidating glare. “Not that I believe them.”
I bit back the words “yeah right” and continued to follow her. She walked around several more chairs, then stopped in front of a display case on the opposite side of the room. Several shelves filled with books, their spines old and worn, lined the wall behind the display. A handful of books pertained to the supernatural, their titles referencing magic. A few others were thick and looked as if they contained the complete history for Cumberpatch Cove and the surrounding area.
“Any idea what the police plan to do with the saber once they arrest the killer?” Hildie asked.
“I have no idea.” Up until now, I hadn’t given any thought to whether or not the police returned belongings, especially those used in a murder, once they sent the criminals to jail. I did find it strange that she seemed more concerned about what happened to the blade than finding out who actually committed the murder.
Now that there was a considerable amount of notoriety attached to the saber, its worth might have increased substantially. Maybe Hildie was thinking about buying it back from Max so she could resell it to a collector willing to pay a lot more money for it. He was already convinced the saber belonged to Martin, which it did. Murder weapon or not, I didn’t think he’d be willing to sell it any price.
“Well, anyway, here’s what I have.” She pointed at the wooden shelf beneath the glass counter.
It was hard not to miss the blade that looked almost identical to Martin’s laying on a bed of velvety blue material next to the patches. I leaned closer to get a better look. “That looks just like the saber Max bought.”
“It’s a replica. My cousin, who lives in Portland, makes them for me. You’d be surprised how many of them I sell during the festival, and for a decent profit,” she said with smug satisfaction.
Actually, I wasn’t surprised at all. Pirate paraphernalia was popular this time of year. It was the reason I made sure my family’s shop was well-stocked.
Martin pressed his nose close to the glass. “She be tellin' the truth. 'Tis a fake 'n a fairly decent one at that.” He straightened to grin at me. “Mine has me mark etched on the blade below the hilt.”
“Were you interested in buying one for yourself?” Hildie asked.
“No, it’s the patches I came for.” I shifted my attention back to the other side of the case. It was easy to see by their worn leather edges that they were old and had been used frequently. One of them was in such bad shape I was afraid it would unravel at the seams the next time it was handled. “I don’t see any with a jewel worked into the leather.”
“Oh, is that what that dark spot was supposed to be?” Hildie asked, then clasped her hand over her mouth, realizing what she’d said out loud.
I knew I lacked artistic skills and wasn’t insulted by her honesty. “It’s okay.” I gave her arm a gentle pat and laughed. “My stick people drawings aren’t much better either.”
She tapped the glass with her fingernail. “I don’t recall ever having any patches with jewels sewn into the leather before, but that doesn’t mean my grandfather didn’t sell one.”
With all the tourists that visited Cumberpatch, Pete’s eye patch could be anywhere. For all I knew, a collector from another state could have purchased it. “I don’t suppose he kept records of all his sales, did he?”
“I’m afraid not, but I could give you the name of a collector I know in Bangor who might have seen one and be able to help you. That is unless you think Max would be interested in one of these.” She gave me an eager smile, no doubt hoping she’d still make a sale.
“The collector’s information would be great, thank you.”
Though disappointment flickered in her gaze, she kept her tone pleasant. “I’ll be right back, the information is in my office.” She turned and headed toward the back of the shop.
Martin’s shoulders slumped even more than they did during our visit with Greg. It was upsetting to see him so disheartened. I was disappointed and wished I could give him a hug.
It didn’t take long for Hildie to return and hand me one of her business cards. “The number is on the back.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Sure,” she said, curtly dismissing me to hurry across the room and assist a new customer.
I tucked the card in my pocket and headed for the door. I was relieved Martin had decided to follow me instead of doing one of his disappearing acts. Once we were outside, I pulled out my cell so I could talk to him.
“I’m not giving up yet. There has to be another way to find Pete.” Of course, I had no idea what that other way might be, but I was determined to figure it out.
Martin widened his eyes and stopped dragging his feet. “Do ye really reckon so?”
“I do.” I headed back toward my family’s shop, contemplating what to do next. Other than doing a worldwide Internet search, I’d exhausted all the ideas for any local exploration that I could come up with. It looked like I was going to have to ask the spoofers for help, after all.
Chapter Twelve
The sun was setting by the time I closed the shop, and Shawna, Grams, and I had piled into Jade’s car for our latest excursion. Now that my grandmother knew about the quest to help Martin, preventing her from helping us was moot. She’d insisted that her yet to be proven psychic abilities might come in handy with finding Pete.
One of my parents’ stipulations, when they’d left me in charge of the shop, was to make sure Grams didn’t get into any trouble. If she was hanging out with my friends and me, I wouldn’t need to worry about her doing any sleuthing on her own. She’d already informed me that she and Mattie had taken Roy a basket of muffins, trying to gain information about his and Logan’s investigation.
Roy and Grams had been friends for years, though I sometimes suspected Roy would like it to be more. The sheriff was intelligent and probably knew what the two women were doing. It would explain why they didn’t have much luck finding out anything new about the investigation.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever used the saber to kill Jake either had a grudge against my uncle or wanted him to take the blame. Since the display case where he’d kept the weapon had been locked when my friends and I found the body, was it possible the culprit also knew Martin’s blade showed up in odd places on the Buccaneer’s Delight?
I could only deal with one problem at a time and needed to focus my energies on helping Martin. Thinking about the pirate reminded me that I hadn’t seen him all day. Even though I’d promised him I’d keep helping, I wondered if he was off sulking because of yesterday’s disheartening visit to the Booty Bizarre. Or maybe he’d found someone else to follow like he had Braden. After everything my friends and I had discussed with him during our stakeout, Lucas and Arlene would be my obvious choices.
Finding answers to my questions would have to wait because we’d arrived at Bryce’s place. He had been more than a little excited when I’d called and asked for his help. We’d barely made it out of the car when he rushed out onto the front porch with Nate and Myra following close behind him.
“Hey, guys. I’m glad you could make it. Come on inside.” With a huge grin and a wave of his hand, Bryce ushered us toward the door.
When Nate took Shawna’s hand after holding the door open for her, Bryce frowned. He noticed me watching, then quickly masked his expression, further confirming mine and Jade’s suspicions that he had an unrequited thing for Shawna, one he had yet to act upon.
I hadn’t been to Bryce’s home for a long time. Normally, when I ran into him, it was during one of his visits to Jade and Shawna’s place. He lived in a one-sto
ry ranch style house painted a spruce green with off-white shutters and trim around all the windows. The interior walls were all a light tan with basic furniture situated on a dark carpet in the living room.
Bryce spent most of his time reading books or in front of a computer. Even so, he had decent housekeeping skills and kept his placed tidy.
“Our clubhouse, I mean headquarters, is this way.” Bryce made it sound as if he was leading us to a secret facility and not the closed door on the other side of his kitchen.
If he was trying to create a spooky atmosphere, he’d done a great job. The lighting above the staircase leading into his basement was dim. Bryce, Myra, and Nate didn’t hesitate to descend into darkness. Grams and Jade were the next to follow, but Shawna stopped in the entryway, refusing to go any farther. “Rylee, since this was your idea, I think you should go first,” she said.
I pinned her with a disbelieving glare. I couldn’t believe she didn’t have a problem traipsing through a scary cemetery at night, yet she froze when it came to basements. “We’ll go together.” Without giving her a choice, I slipped my arm through hers and tugged her onto the first step.
With each creak of the wooden stairs, my grip on the handrail tightened, and the urge to leave heightened. It was a good thing I had sleeves and Shawna kept her nails short; otherwise, the skin on my arm would be covered with numerous indentations.
“If we get down there and Bryce has anything closely resembling a dead body, I’m out of here,” Shawna muttered when we’d reach the halfway point.
“Trust me, I’ll be right behind you.” My nervous laugh might have sounded like I was kidding, but I was serious.
I was glad when we reached the bottom step and didn’t find anything remotely resembling a corpse. Other than a washer and dryer sitting off to the side in a corner, the room resembled a modified office and mini living room. There was even a sofa large enough to fit three people and a couple of matching chairs. In the middle of one wall was an old laminated desk, the cushions on the chair sitting next to it were worn and faded. His computer system, on the other hand, appeared to be a state-of-the-art model.
My jacket helped with the basement’s cooler temperature, but it didn’t keep me from shivering when a wave of cold air preceded Martin’s arrival. Already dealing with a high anxiety level, I jumped and squeaked when he touched my arm and said my name.
Shawna giggled, and Nate joined her. “Rylee, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Martin chuckled. “Yer friend’s sense of humor be quite amusin'.”
I should have known it would only be a matter of time before one of my friends thought it would be fun to use that particular comment. Even so, I scowled at Shawna. “Yeah, she’s hilarious.”
“I take it, Martin’s here.” Jade made herself comfortable in one of the chairs.
“Yeah,” I glanced at the expectant faces around the room. Everyone except Myra, who’d crossed her arms and pressed her lips together tightly, seemed happy to hear the news.
Bryce clapped his hands together, his eyes widening with excitement. “Great, then let’s get started.”
By the way he was acting, I’d bet anything the spoofers rarely got asked to find cursed spirits or any other paranormal requests for that matter. They were the only non-magical option I had left to help Martin and return to my ghost-free existence, so I wasn’t about to complain.
“He be quite the boisterous chap, be he nah?” Judging by Martin’s wrinkled nose, I didn’t think his comment was a compliment. “Are ye sure we can trust them?” His skeptical gaze hopped from Bryce to Myra.
Martin didn’t include Nate in his perusal, so I assumed he’d already met with approval during our lunch at Ye Olde Angler. “Bryce, yes,” I whispered. “The other one…” I shrugged.
I understood why he might be suspicious of Myra. She’d been clear how unimpressed she was with my friends and me, and had been glaring, mostly at me, as if we were unwelcome invaders since we’d arrived.
Myra’s eyes narrowed even more. Either she had enhanced hearing, which I doubted, or she figured out I’d been talking about her.
Bryce walked over to the shelves lined with all kinds of books referencing paranormal topics ranging from how to summon a demon to a guide on how to use magical stones. He ran his fingertip across several titles, then pulled out one with a worn black leather binding and red lettering along its spine.
After carefully setting it on his desk as if it was his most prized possession, he hummed as he gently leafed through the pages. Once he found what he was looking for, he stepped aside so I could see the page he’d selected. “Ask Martin if this is Pete’s eye patch.” He pointed at a black and white image at the top of the page.
Martin was standing right next to me, so instead of repeating Bryce’s request, I gave him an inquiring glance.
“Aye, that be the very one.” His enthusiastic reply surpassed Bryce’s earlier display and made me wince.
“He said that’s it.” I was relieved we were making progress, but realized I’d forgotten to ask Bryce earlier if Nate had mentioned the witch-related problem associated with finding the eye patch. It wouldn’t be right not to let him know that helping me could have magical ramifications.
I leaned closer to the desk so I could get a better look at the text below the picture. “Does it say anything about the curse?” There was a chance Bryce had already read the book and might know the answer.
“Curse?” Myra hopped off the stool where she’d been sitting with her arms crossed, seemingly uninterested in our conversation up until now. “Nobody said anything about a curse.”
“Rylee’s been doing okay since she touched Martin’s saber, so we believe it’s more about breaking a spell, then actually getting cursed.” Jade kept her voice calm as she placed a warning hand on Shawna’s arm to keep her seated on the sofa, and prevent her from getting into an argument with Myra.
My friends were great at showing their support, but I could always count on Jade more than Shawna to use diplomacy and a level head when dealing with tension-filled situations.
“Oh, yeah, how’s that?” Myra asked.
At the moment, I was more worried about the wary look Martin was giving her and what he might decide to do about. While keeping an eye on him, I quickly explained everything that had happened after touching his saber, including my visit to the Booty Bazaar and the pirate museum.
“It sounds like Jade’s assessment of the situation might be correct. If Rylee is the only one who will be touching the eye patch, and has the ability to break the curse, then I don’t think the rest of have anything to be concerned about.” Nate settled farther into the cushions and draped his arm across the back of the sofa behind Shawna.
I gave everyone a hopeful glance. “Does that mean you’re all willing to help us find Pete?”
“I am,” Nate said.
“Me too.” Bryce joined Nate in staring at Myra.
Unable to withstand the pressure any longer, Myra huffed, “Fine, I’m in, but I think Rylee should talk to Joyce and Edith first. If there’s magic involved, then they might know someone in the local coven who can help.”
I’d always wondered if there were witches living in Cumberpatch, and if they’d formed a local coven. My curiosity spiked even more after meeting Martin. I’d even considered whether or not the witch who’d cursed him had descendants that might still be around. Did witches hold grudges? And, if they did, was it passed on from one generation to the next?
“Do ye reckon askin' witches fer help be a good idea?” A hint of fear laced Martin’s voice, his ghostly skin paled, and he shuddered.
My experiences with the paranormal to date hadn’t exactly been pleasant, and I’d be nervous too if I’d suffered through a curse. Finding Pete was only one of the many questions I had for Joyce and Edith, and procrastinating wasn’t going to get me any answers.
“Myra’s right.” Though I hated to admit it. “I’ll stop by the Classic Broom tomorro
w.”
Chapter Thirteen
I balanced the box containing face painting kits and small net style bags of chocolate shaped like coins and sealed with gold foil on my hip, then closed the hood on the trunk of my car. As much as I wanted to help Martin find Pete, I still needed to follow up on what Jade, Shawna, and I had discovered about Arlene and Lucas during our stakeout.
I didn’t have any real proof that Lucas and Arlene had conspired to get rid of Jake because he learned about their affair. Heck, other than witnessing their hug and the friendly kiss Arlene had given Lucas on her front porch, I had no proof there was even anything going on between them.
I did, however, think having a conversation with Lucas about his argument with Jake deserved some follow-up, and Max calling me first thing in the morning asking me to bring him more supplies gave me a great opportunity.
Not only was business picking up because of the upcoming festival, but people were booking tours just for the chance to get a glimpse of where Jake was murdered. Max was a great storyteller, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was spinning an embellished tale at the beginning of every tour.
Of course, my side trip to see my uncle also gave me a justifiable reason to put off my visit with Joyce and Edith until later in the day.
When I reached the shop, Max was standing inside near the doorway chatting with Chloe. Instead of interrupting their conversation, I lifted the box and tipped my head toward the boat to let him know I was going to put the supplies away first. After getting a wave from Chloe and an acknowledging nod from my uncle, I hurried to finish my task.
The boat had been empty when I’d arrived, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of Max’s crew showed up to prep for the next tour. I had just finished stocking the depleted storeroom shelves when the room echoed with the sound of overhead footsteps.
Grabbing my empty box, I headed back to the deck. I was glad to see Lucas coming down the narrow staircase at the same time I started up them. It saved me the trouble of tracking him down to ask my questions.
Sabers, Sails, and Murder Page 10