by Lyndsey Cole
Meg opened her mouth but before anything came out, Marty hurried away. His backward glance was pure hatred.
Meg carefully tried some weight on her injured ankle. “Well, look at that. It seems to have miraculously healed itself.”
Hannah was speechless. She had been taken in by Meg’s acting hook, line, and sinker. Just like everyone else at the party. “I hope Samantha hasn’t left without us.”
“You found her?” Meg asked as they walked at a fast clip toward Hannah’s Volvo.
“Yes. She’s supposed to be hiding in my car. Can you see if it’s still where I left it?”
“I only see a big empty spot.”
Hannah sagged. “I can’t believe she abandoned us here.”
As Meg and Hannah leaned on a black Porsche, wondering how they would get home, Hannah’s Volvo stopped in front of them with Samantha at the wheel. “Get in. What took you so long?”
Hannah slumped against the passenger seat and Samantha floored the gas pedal before Meg even had time to close the back door.
16
“That was exciting,” Samantha said as soon as they were safely away from Marty Dunn’s estate and speeding toward home.
“What exciting part are you referring to?” Hannah asked. “Getting locked in that room or climbing out the window?”
Meg leaned forward with her head hanging over the front seat. “You climbed out the window? Was someone chasing you with a gun?”
“Not exactly, but I was in a genuine pickle. I’ll tell you all about what happened once we’re safely in Hannah’s cottage with a shot of something strong to calm me down. My heart is still beating so fast I can’t even hear myself think.”
Meg looked at Hannah and they both said at the same time, “Pickle?”
That did it. They laughed so hard, and once Samantha joined in, she had to pull off the road until the laughing fit wound down.
“You got yourself into a pickle?” Hannah repeated. “I’d describe it more like a one-way ticket to a walk across hot coals with someone shoving a spear in your back to get you to climb down that vine.”
“It was the only way out of that room,” Samantha said. “No one forced me after I got myself locked inside. Now, if I’d had my lock picking set with me, it would have been quick work to open the door.”
Samantha turned Hannah’s Volvo into the parking lot to Holiday Hideaway. “This place is deserted. Just my car and Meg’s truck. I wonder when Blake will realize I left without him. It might be a tad awkward tomorrow, trying to explain my getaway.”
The three women walked to Hannah’s cottage. Hannah took Nellie and Patches out for a quick walk and Meg had three shot glasses filled with some kind of amber liquid sitting on the coffee table when she returned.
“Hope you don’t mind, Hannah, but I found an old bottle of Caroline’s stash in the top shelf of your cupboard.”
“Really? I thought I cleaned all that stuff out after I moved in.” Hannah filled bowls for Nellie and Patches before she sank onto the couch.
“I guess you missed this treasure. I needed a bench to get up high enough. There might be more bottles stashed there when you get the time to look,” Meg said. She handed a shot glass to Samantha and Hannah and picked up the last one for herself. “Cheers.”
They clinked the glasses and downed the drink in one gulp.
Hannah sputtered and gagged.
Samantha and Meg laughed.
“Hannah is such a rookie.” Samantha held her glass for a refill. “I deserve seconds before I tell you what I heard tonight.”
Hannah felt the warm liquid flow through her body and it did help to settle her nerves.
“So,” Samantha said after she drained her second shot glass. “Are you ready to hear why I got locked inside that upstairs room?”
“I suppose you’ll tell us even if we don’t want to know,” Meg teased. She stretched her legs out and leaned her head against the back of the Queen Anne chair she sat on.
Samantha leaned forward. “Well, I went back to that room because Blake took me in there earlier and tucked some papers in the desk drawer. I just wanted to have a quick peek at the papers but I heard voices approaching. There wasn’t any good hiding spot except under the big desk so I dove under and squeezed myself as small as possible out of sight.” She curled up her body on the chair to show them how small she could get.
Meg closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m tired and I’d really like to get home because five o’clock comes way too quickly. Can you get to the important part before I fall asleep in this chair?”
“Blake and Marty came back in and they were talking about Dwayne.”
Meg’s eyes flew open.
“I heard Marty say, ‘I’ll get the plans to you for the agreed on price. Don’t worry.’ Then Blake said, ‘You make me nervous. Why is that Hannah Holiday poking her nose around and asking questions. What’s she got to do with all this?’ Marty said, ‘Don’t worry about her, Ebony has her between a rock and a hard place’.” Samantha flopped back on the chair. “Interesting, huh?”
Hannah felt the hairs on her neck stand up. “What do you think they meant by ‘Ebony has me between a rock and a hard place?’ Do you think they’re referring to the threat about taking Patches if I don’t hand over Dwayne’s papers that I don’t even have?”
“That sounds like a good guess. Do you have some papers?” Meg asked.
Hannah was already out of her chair and through the door into her office. She returned with a half dozen manila folders. “I sorted these out earlier to go through. Let’s take a look now and see if we can find anything.”
Meg yawned and stretched. “You two are on your own. I have to get to bed so I have some energy tomorrow. Unless you’re planning to close The Fishy Dish for a day?”
Hannah noticed the hopeful tone but answered, “Uh, not on the schedule.” She waved Meg off. “Get some sleep. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”
The door clicked behind Meg.
“Start searching those folders,” Samantha said. She pulled out her iPad. “I’m taking another look at the article about Marty Dunn, and I think I’ll do some checking on Blake McVee, too. He’s involved somehow, even if it’s as an innocent bystander.”
Hannah slid the top folder off the pile and thumbed through the papers inside. Nothing caught her attention and she picked up the next one which was labeled with just the letter D.
Patches lifted his head and looked at Hannah. “Is this the right folder?” she asked the beagle. “Did you smell something familiar when I picked this up?” She moved the folder closer to Patches and his tail wagged.
“I think this might be the one,” Hannah said to Samantha.
“Before you open that folder, take a look at this article again.” Samantha’s finger was pointing to a specific section. “Right here it says Marty Dunn, inventor. I’m wondering about that statement. Do you think our Mr. Dwayne Dunn was the inventor and Marty took the credit?”
“You could be onto something.” Hannah opened the folder. A drawing similar to the one Clara showed her earlier, but with much more detail, was on the top of the pile. It was labeled in precise block lettering, exactly like the script in the letter Dwayne left in his backpack for Hannah—CLARIFICATION PROCESS—FINAL PLAN. She handed it to Samantha to look at.
“I would say this could be the smoking gun for a solid motive for either Marty or Ebony to take care of Dwayne. If this is what Marty and Blake were talking about, it sounds like Blake already agreed to pay a tidy sum to Marty for these plans.” She typed on her iPad. “I just Googled ‘clarification process’ and it’s too technical for me to understand the whole explanation, but for wine, the bottom line is that it gets rid of unwanted particles.” She looked up. “Maybe Dwayne figured out a new technique and Blake wants it for his winery.”
Hannah shuffled through the rest of the papers in the folder. “These are all diagrams and formulas and they’re all labeled original and final plan.” Hannah sat back. Her m
ind was reeling with this information as she put all the little pieces in some kind of order. “Ebony immediately assumed Dwayne left papers with me when I told her he left something. I was referring to Patches at the time, but she was already hunting for Dwayne’s work.”
Hannah stood and paced across her room. She picked up her phone. “When Cal and I went to Dwayne’s campsite, whoever killed him, tore all his stuff apart. I mean everything. They must have hoped to find his papers there. Here’s all the photos I took. Do you see anything that I’m overlooking?”
Samantha took the phone and studied the photos. “Wow. This looks like the aftermath of a tornado touchdown. I suppose the police bagged up anything that they found. Anyway to get a look at that list?”
“Are you serious? I am not a favorite of Deputy Pam Larson, in case you never noticed. And besides, the police won’t share that information.”
“So, we’re on our own trying to figure out what all this means.”
Hannah slapped the folder of papers against her hand as she paced. “I do have some leverage. Besides this,” she held up the folder, “Deputy Larson has the letter Dwayne left for me. I’ll ask her for a copy and we can compare the writing in the letter to the writing in these plans for the clarification system.”
Samantha leaped to her feet. “I’ve got the perfect plan. Marty and Ebony are trying to sell Dwayne’s plans to Blake.” Her eyes twinkled. “We’ve got the plans. We sell them to him instead!”
A smile spread slowly across Hannah’s face. “We can’t sell the actual plans. These,” she held them up again, “need to be stored in a super secure spot. After I make copies, of course. But we could discuss the plans with Blake and see what happens.”
“Like poking a hornet’s nest?” Samantha danced around and slapped her legs.
“Let’s not poke too much. I don’t want us to be anyone’s target with a deadly sting.”
17
Hannah woke with the cool morning breeze drifting across her face and the sound of Cal’s steady hammering. She smiled now that she had suspects with strong motives instead of obsessing about Cal’s possible connection.
Nellie jumped on her bed, eliminating the chance of any more rest. “Ready for a walk?” Hannah asked her. Nellie woofed.
She patted Nellie and explained, “First I need to make coffee.” She slipped out from under her covers, and stretched and twisted until all her muscles loosened up. She dug through her drawer and found a new t-shirt—a gift from Cal—a white scoop neck with aqua blue bubbles. She checked her reflection in the mirror and decided to add a simple seahorse necklace. Another gift from Cal.
Hannah’s mood was a hundred times improved from the day before. The only sticking point was the veiled threat from Ebony to turn over Dwayne’s papers or Patches would suffer. Ebony was stabbing in the dark to assume Hannah had those papers, but since she found what Ebony was probably looking for, Hannah had to figure out how to stall.
Armed with two mugs of fragrant coffee and accompanied by the two dogs, Hannah made her way to her new cottage–in-progress.
“Morning,” she said when she saw Cal. She held out one mug.
“Hey.” He accepted the coffee but didn’t smile. “How was the garden party?”
“Interesting, especially after Samantha had to climb out an upstairs window.”
Cal’s eyebrows raised above his coffee mug. “Oh?”
“Let’s sit and enjoy the view while I tell you what happened.” Hannah pulled two plastic garden chairs close together, sitting in one. She patted the other one for Cal to join her.
“Just while I finish my coffee. Thanks, by the way.” He sipped and let out a small sigh. “Sorry I said no last night. I’m working on letting go of all this Dwayne Dunn grudge that I wasn’t even aware that I still held inside. I’m sure he wasn’t the same person all these years later that he was when we were kids.”
“Look at it this way, Cal. If that old girlfriend didn’t move away, you would have married her and we wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying this view together.”
Cal put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “I’m not sure about the marriage part, but, maybe,” he teased. “Too bad I can’t thank Dwayne for helping to save me from that, and getting you in my life instead.” The twinkle was back in Cal’s eyes and his smile warmed her heart.
“And I have to thank my Great Aunt Caroline for leaving all this beauty in my care. And,” she sipped her coffee, “befriending Dwayne and bringing him into my life so you can move on and not hate him for all eternity.”
Cal laughed. “You’re getting a bit too melodramatic for me. And I think I’m ready to hear why Samantha climbed out the window last night.”
Hannah turned sideways in her chair. “Well, in typical Samantha form, she got locked in an upstairs room and proceeded to shimmy down a vine.”
Cal shook his head and laughed. “That’s quite the image. How did she do?”
“A perfect ten landing. Arms raised and everything.”
“What was she doing in that room to begin with?” Cal asked. “Good coffee, by the way.”
“You know Samantha. When Meg’s waiter friend told us Samantha went into an upstairs room and two men followed her, we decided we had to rescue her. So, we came up with a plan.”
“Of course you did.”
“Meg pretended to fall and twist her ankle as a distraction. I went to find Samantha but the door was locked and she insisted on her dramatic exit.”
“No one saw her?”
“I’m not sure. Marty Dunn did try to stop us from leaving, but Meg threatened to scream and accuse him of accosting her. You should have seen his face when he walked away.”
“And you left with no problem?”
“Samantha pulled up, we jumped in, and she drove the getaway car like a pro.”
“It all sounds like cloak and dagger. What’s the final take-away from all your shenanigans?”
“Blake McVee, the guy with a boat across from you?”
“Of course. How could I forget that obnoxious guy?”
“It sounds like Blake’s trying to buy this process that Dwayne invented to clarify wine. All I can figure out is that Marty and Ebony had a very good motive to kill Dwayne to get the rights to the process so either one of them, or both together, could cut Dwayne out of his share.”
“And where did the backpack of money come from? Did you figure that out?”
“Maybe from Marty. He told me that he gave Dwayne money but he never said how much. I think Marty hoarded whatever money he had. What did he have to spend it on?”
Cal shrugged and finished his coffee. “What’s next?”
Hannah looked away. Cal would want to hear that she was done trying to dig up any more information but she had to think of Patches. “I found some papers in Great Aunt Caroline’s filing cabinet.”
“I don’t like the sound of this. What kind of papers?” Cal stood.
“All the originals of Dwayne’s work on his clarification process. It must be what Marty and Ebony are after.” Hannah held her breath, waiting for Cal’s reply.
“Shouldn’t you turn it over to the police? Let them handle it from here? Especially since it is a strong motive for one of them to murder Dwayne.”
“You’re probably right. It’s just that Samantha and I—”
“Come on, Hannah. Don’t let Samantha, with all her fantasies about being a private investigator, pull you into the middle of something that could be dangerous.”
“We aren’t going to confront Marty or Ebony. They’ve already shown that they’ll stop at nothing.” What she left unsaid, was that the idea was to trick them. Stir the pot a bit.
Cal grasped Hannah’s shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Promise me that you won’t rush into anything without thinking it through.”
She nodded. “That’s a good plan. I promise I’ll follow it.” After all, she and Samantha were thinking through every step along the way. They always had a plan.
Ha
nnah picked up the empty coffee mugs. “Come down for lunch?”
“Definitely.”
Nellie and Patches were already on their feet, pulling Hannah down the slight hill toward The Fishy Dish. She bypassed her snack bar and took the dogs to the beach. The tide was out, the gulls rested on one leg or soared overhead, and the calmness soaked inside Hannah.
“Fancy meeting you again. I guess we’re both early risers.”
Hannah cringed at the sound of Blake McVee’s voice. But she smiled and decided to make the most of the chance encounter. “My favorite time of day. I was sorry to hear that your wife decided not to stay at my cottage.”
Blake flicked his wrist dismissively. “Tiffany likes her, shall I say, luxuries. Not that I don’t love your cozy cottage, but Tiff expects more than I do. And I’ve quite enjoyed Samantha’s company.” He scrunched his eyebrows together. “Although she disappeared last night. I hope she made it back safely?”
Hannah laughed. “Oh yes.” If he was hoping for information, he wouldn’t get it from Hannah. “Tell me, Mr. McVee—”
“None of that Mr. stuff. Call me Blake.”
“Okay, Blake. Tell me more about your winery. I sounds like such an exciting business. You must meet lots of interesting people.”
Blake laughed. “That we do—young, old, first date, proposals, weddings, and everything in between—everyone loves a good glass of wine. I hope you enjoyed the Merlot I shared when I met you on Cal’s boat. I’d be happy to let you try something different, maybe my special Cabernet sauvignon?”
Hannah’s mind raced as her toes dug into the sand. Her flip-flops swung from her fingers and the dogs chased seagulls. If she played her cards right, she could get him talking about his wine and maybe this clarification process he was trying to buy.
“That would be too generous.” She played it cool.
“Not at all. How about you stop by my boat. Tonight? Bring your friends. We’ll have fun.”
“Sure. Seven?”