by Mary Ellis
And Beth had definitely dodged a bullet on this case.
Eric Manfredi picked up his phone on the first ring. ‘Beth? Where are you? Is Jill – er, I mean Kate with you? Is everything okay?’
‘Would you please relax?’ Beth leaned her backside against the car’s fender. ‘Kate, formerly known as Jill, is upstairs interviewing her new client. Thank goodness I’ll be heading home soon. I’d bet my next month’s salary this woman killed her mother and thinks we’ll cover it up. Women that arrogant think they can commit murder and get away with it.’
As appreciative as he was of Beth, Eric didn’t have time for one of her tirades now. ‘Could you save this story for another day? I’ve got plenty to do before you get back to the Vacation Inn and Suites. That’s where Kate rented a room, right? On West Main Street in downtown?’
‘Yes, she’s staying on the fourth floor with a lovely view of the parking lot. But I hope you have your ducks in a row, Manfredi. If Kate suspects you came to Pensacola to keep an eye on her, she’ll blow a gasket. She got mad when I insisted on driving here with her. Wait until Michael shows up in a few days.’
Eric grunted. ‘Michael should stay in Savannah and you should join him. I’m capable of watching Kate’s back, whether she wants me here or not.’
‘I understand, Prince Charming, but Nate wants us to investigate Liam Weller’s robbery/homicide from sixteen years ago. The only reason someone is threatening Kate is because the truth never came out at trial. The boss says Kate will never be safe until her brother’s accomplices land in the slammer.’ Suddenly, Beth abruptly changed her tone of voice. ‘Thanks so much for letting us know,’ she drawled. ‘And we’ll check back tomorrow for another update.’ Then the line went dead.
Eric surmised that Kate had finished interviewing her new client. Slipping his phone in his pocket, he hurried toward the hotel office. He didn’t care what he paid for a night, a week, a month at the Village Inn and Suites. If they had no vacancy, he would bribe someone to check out. What good was money in the bank or a portfolio of investments if he lost the woman he loved? He hadn’t handled things well when his car blew up. With his pride kicking in, he’d reacted with anger that some cretin had gotten too close. Next time Kate would be his target. So Eric had to make sure he took care of the cretin first.
Eric marched up to the registration desk and produced his friendliest smile for the clerk. Soon he had the keys to a large suite on the fourth floor. Although his suite faced in the opposite direction as Kate’s, the view wasn’t much better than the parking lot. But he hadn’t come for the view, and his unit was only two down from hers. No fat bribe had been necessary. With two bedrooms, two baths, and a queen-size pullout couch, he had far more space than he needed. But that too wasn’t important.
Climbing into his new SUV, a replacement vehicle from the insurance company, Eric Googled the nearest grocery store and headed in that direction. As sweet as Kate was, he wanted to make his lame excuse sound as plausible as possible. So he needed plenty of groceries, along with the simple necessities of a chef’s life. An hour later, Eric was hefting his last load of cooking utensils from his vehicle along with three bags of groceries when a female voice screeched his name.
‘Eric Manfredi, what on earth are you doing here?’
Shifting his armload of boxes, he saw two women with bare legs and knotted bathrobes blocking his path. ‘Kate! Beth! Are you two staying here? Of all the places I could have picked in town.’ His smile was even more magnanimous than the one offered to the desk clerk.
Kate’s face scrunched into a scowl. ‘Bah-lon-nee! How naïve do you think I am? No way could this be a coincidence.’ She turned on her heel to glare at Beth, who was frantically searching for something in her purse.
Eric moved closer. ‘Since you’re from Pensacola, I assumed you would stay with relatives, like an aunt or uncle, or maybe a godmother.’
‘I don’t have a godmother.’ Kate crossed her arms. ‘I told you I had little family. So I’ll ask you once more … why are you here? Did you forget that we broke up?’
Eric didn’t have to feign a hurt expression. His feelings were as raw as they had been in Charleston. But before he could open his mouth, Beth turned on Kate like a feral raccoon.
‘Look, missy. If you’re gonna be mean to one of your few friends, I’m heading to the pool.’ Beth stomped past Eric to the elevator. ‘Maybe you should come too, and soak that rock-head of yours,’ she called over her shoulder.
Kate modified her tone. ‘She’s right. I’m sorry, Eric. What’s goin’ on with you?’
He shifted the load of boxes. ‘Would you like to step into my suite? These are heavy.’
‘No, thank you. I’m comfortable right here.’ Despite a softened tone, she remained rigid and guarded.
Eric lowered his burdens to the carpeted hallway. ‘When you left, I felt … conflicted. I was sad, of course, that you and I couldn’t work things out. But it was more than that.’ He leaned one shoulder against the wall. ‘I was also a little envious.’
Kate’s chin snapped up. ‘Have you lost your mind? You were jealous because a bomb-making madman was stalking me?’
‘Of course not. But the moment you realized the situation was getting worse, you packed up your car and left town. Just like that, with very little baggage, literally or figuratively.’
‘I didn’t have much choice.’
‘I understand that, Kate, but it got me thinking. I’m not even thirty, yet it seems I have a life sentence at Bella Trattoria. I can’t even remember the last time I went on vacation.’
‘But you love to cook. It’s more than your job; it’s your passion.’
He smiled at that. ‘The passion of my life is garlic, olive oil, and veal cutlets? I’m even more pathetic than I thought.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I do, but I’m too young to settle down like my parents, and owning a restaurant traps a person. I might enjoy cooking, but I’m not sure I want to stay in Charleston forever. So I asked my parents if they’d ever considered a second location for Bella Trattoria, maybe somewhere in Florida. I expected them to laugh me out of the kitchen, but they were open to the idea. Mom said she’d been thinking about a place to go for vacations, maybe two or three months at a time. She has always loved the ocean. Dad said if Mom wanted to stay away that long, he’d need another restaurant to dabble in.’
Kate put her hands on her hips. ‘You’re saying it was your parents who suggested Pensacola?’ Skepticism dripped from her words like candle wax.
‘Not exactly.’ Eric looked her in the eye. ‘They were thinking about Amelia Island outside of Jacksonville. But when I told them you were moving here, they asked if the area could support another high-end restaurant. My dad really liked you, Kate, and you sort of grew on Irena.’ He held up his hands. ‘Now, before you blow your stack, they know we’ve broken up. But having friends in the area is like money in the bank.’
She considered this. ‘If you opened a restaurant here, who would run Bella in Charleston? Your father’s talking at least semi-retirement.’
‘My sister can run that place with her eyes closed. And she would have my aunt and grandmother’s help.’
‘So you’re not here to replace Beth as my bodyguard?’ Her crooked smile almost broke his heart.
‘Nope. I’m here to give Bernadette a trial run to see how she does without me. And to look at commercial real estate close to the water. I’d love to find an out-of-business restaurant.’
‘Wouldn’t the fact they’re out of business tell you something?’
‘Not necessarily, unless the place served northern Italian cuisine.’
She shrugged. ‘It would be nice to have a friend in town when Beth leaves.’
‘If you need my help, call me. Otherwise, I’ll stay out of your way.’ Eric picked up the boxes and unlocked the door into his suite. ‘Right now, I need to put these groceries away, so go enjoy your swim.’ He walked in and shut the door
on her, something he thought would have been hard to do.
But after his half-truths and white lies, it proved very easy. Despite all the groceries he’d bought, he wouldn’t invite Kate and Beth over for dinner. Maybe someday they could give their relationship another chance. He needed to play by Kate’s rules. And he’d do anything short of first-degree murder to keep that woman safe.
THREE
Last night Kate had swum laps until every muscle in her body screamed for mercy and her lungs burned from holding her breath. Then she had floated on her back and watched cloud formations form and dissolve in the sky, half hoping and half fearing Eric would show up with a pizza and six-pack of soda.
But he hadn’t.
Kate knew his tale of ‘scouting the area for a second location’ was pure fiction. Or, at least, partial fiction. When this mess with her brother was over – if she hadn’t been fired yet – Nate would send her on a case in another town. Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted – no strings attached?
At least it was what she used to want.
Now the idea of Eric close by comforted her. Despite everything that happened at Bella Trattoria, she’d loved waking up to the sound of Eric in the kitchen below. Unfortunately, that’s what almost got him killed.
Better for him to think she didn’t love him.
On that bright and sunny Monday morning, Kate had drunk two cups of coffee and finished her run along the bay before Beth dragged herself out of bed. ‘Good morning, sunshine,’ she cooed when her roommate appeared in the doorway.
‘What happened last night?’ Beth held her stomach with one hand, while her other tried to work out a nasty knot in her hair.
‘Looks like you tangled with an octopus. Mommy warned you to apply conditioner and comb out the snarls, but you didn’t listen.’ Kate handed her a cup of coffee.
‘That explains my coiffure, but what about my bellyache?’
‘I also said it was a bad idea to have pizza two nights in a row.’
Beth slumped over the kitchen counter. ‘Nobody ever listens to the voice of reason until it’s too late.’
‘Take these.’ Kate placed two antacids in a saucer. ‘Aspirin are in my makeup bag. I’ll be back in a few hours.’
Beth straightened immediately. ‘Where are you off to this early?’
‘It’s almost ten. I want to check out where the Westins keep the Arrivederci Sorrento. Even if the police haven’t released the crime scene, plenty can be learned from talking to people in the marina.’
‘I want to go too,’ Beth whined like an eight-year-old.
‘No, I’m tired of sitting around here. You take a hot shower and feel better. Tonight we’ll stop at a grocery store for salad fixings. I don’t want to see greasy pizza for six months.’
‘If I take the fastest shower on record and I promise to be good, can I come? Pul-leaze?’ Beth pressed her fingers together as though praying. ‘You can check the internet for info on the Westins while I get dressed.’
Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Michael already sent me more than I’ll ever need. The late Mrs Agnes Westin left a huge footprint in this area. She had her well-manicured fingers into everything.’ She opened the file she’d printed that morning in the hotel’s business center. ‘And look how beautiful she was. The way Lainey talked, I was expecting a look-alike for Madame Defarge.’
‘Who’s Madame Defarge?’
‘Didn’t you ever read A Tale of Two Cities?’
‘Very little of it. I kept nodding off.’ Beth studied the printed photo. ‘She’s certainly attractive, but that surprised look on her face is a dead giveaway for a facelift.’
Kate took another look at the smiling, sixtyish blonde. ‘You and I won’t look surprised. We’ll look like topography maps of Colorado.’ She slipped the picture into her file folder. ‘Okay, I’ll study Michael’s notes for fifteen minutes. If you can get ready that fast, you can come. And it’s only because I don’t want you chumming around with Eric while I’m gone. He’s here with a purpose and it has nothing to do with me.’
Beth nodded, picked up her coffee, and headed to the bathroom.
The fact she’d said nothing about Eric last night at the pool spoke volumes. Neither one of them liked to lie, but Beth thought omission of the truth wasn’t lying.
Kate shook off Beth’s ethical code and concentrated on the life of Agnes Westin. To say the woman had lived well would be an understatement. She owned beautiful homes here and in Nice, France, plus a condo in Manhattan’s theater district. After her graduation from the University of Florida with a Master’s in Art History, she’d studied in Paris for a year. Although Lainey was her only child, plenty of orphans on three continents had benefited from her big heart and deep pockets. She married only once, to her college sweetheart, Robert Westin, who worked for a while in the family business. The serious money came from her family, not his. Mrs Westin was daughter of John and Delia Cook, founders of the largest yacht manufacturer on the Gulf of Mexico. Although John had died several years ago, Delia Cook was still on the company’s board of directors, although she wasn’t the chairwoman. When John Cook died, his wife inherited his voting shares of stock, while his daughter, Agnes, received a huge portfolio of investments which, according to Michael, were generating large dividends. The woman had money to burn, lived well, and donated plenty to charity. So even if she wasn’t mother-of-the-year, at least she was generous.
Kate paused for a moment, trying to imagine what Lainey’s young life had been like. All that money everywhere she looked, and yet the woman had grown up to be downright mean-spirited and hostile. Poor little Lainey – didn’t Mommy have enough time for you? Kate thought about fellow kids in the foster care system who had endured miserable lives before finally being removed from an abusive parent. Any compassion she might have mustered for the poor little rich girl drained away.
‘Did I beat the deadline?’ A fresh-scrubbed Beth bounded into the room. Her damp red hair was in a long plait down her back to match Kate’s braid.
‘You did, but I didn’t think we were going as the Bobbsey Twins. Have you ever read a book in your life?’ asked Kate, in response to Beth’s look of confusion. She grabbed her bag on her way out the door.
‘Do you mean all the way to the end?’ Beth pressed the button for the elevator.
‘Of course, I mean to the end.’
‘I’m sure I have, let me think for a minute.’
When after five minutes, Beth still came up empty, Kate filled her in on the Westin details for the remainder of the drive.
At the gate for the Santa Rosa Yacht Club, Kate handed her PI license to the uniformed guard in the booth. ‘I work for Lainey Westin,’ she said. ‘Could you point me in the direction of the Arrivederci Sorrento?’
The guard studied her license. ‘Sure, Miss Weller, but I’ll need to photocopy this first.’ When he handed back her license, he also wrote down the Westin dock and slip numbers. ‘Good luck finding a place to park. The police and crime lab techs are still crawling all over that boat.’
‘How come the guard is allowed to call it a boat, when we were told not to?’ Beth asked as they left the booth.
‘Don’t worry about that.’ Kate pulled out her notepad. ‘You just remember this is my case. You’re here to take notes while I do the talking. Got that?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ With a salute Beth took the tablet and opened to a clean page.
As they drove through the marina, the yachts become larger and fancier the further they went from the gate. Soon Kate saw the commotion the guard referred to – several police cars and a forensic van were parked haphazardly at the end of dock 7.
‘Good grief.’ Beth raised a finger to point. ‘Have you ever seen a sailboat that huge?’
Kate had seen a picture of the Arrivederci Sorrento in the file Michael sent, but a photo couldn’t compare to up-close and personal. ‘I’ve seen a few regattas out on the Gulf, but boats must look a lot smaller on the water.’ Kate stopped the car to
stare. ‘Three masts, two decks, all that brass. The thought of sailing across the Atlantic grows more romantic by the minute.’
‘Especially if the new bride has a gourmet chef for a bridegroom.’ Beth pinched her arm.
‘You need to stop reading romance novels,’ Kate muttered, shaking off the mental picture of Eric. ‘It’s bad for your practical nature.’ Parking in a spot marked ‘Reserved for the Dancing Fool,’ she jumped out of the car.
‘What happens if that boat’s owner shows up?’ asked Beth, following her down the gangway.
‘We’ll just say we’re helping the police. And it won’t be a lie. Uh-oh.’ Kate spotted the double band of yellow Do Not Cross tape, preventing them from joining the cops and lab techs that covered the main deck like ants.
‘What’s the plan, boss?’ Beth leaned one shoulder against a dock post.
‘We’ll wait here until someone in authority leaves the ship. Then I’ll place my irresistible self into his or her path. I won’t let them get past me until my questions are answered.’
‘While you carry out that foolproof plan, I’ll check out the rest of the marina. I need to stretch my legs.’
‘Don’t fall in or wander too far away,’ Kate warned. ‘I might send you an SOS text.’
Beth saluted again and hiked up the gangway.
From her fine vantage point, Kate watched the comings and goings on the Arrivederci. Once most of the techs closed up their kits and disembarked, the only people left were cops. And it wasn’t hard to tell which one of them was in charge. A tall man with close-cropped black hair and a trimmed goatee was wearing a sport coat and tan Dockers with a sharp crease, while the others wore uniforms with Santa Rosa County Sheriff’s Department insignias.
Kate locked eyes with him once while he talked on the phone, then resumed studying the boats entering and leaving the marina. When the man finished his conversation, he slipped the phone into his pocket and walked to the narrow plank connecting the dock to the Arrivederci.
‘Can I help you with something, miss?’ He stopped on his side of the police tape. ‘I would be a terrible detective if I didn’t notice you watching every move made on this sailboat.’ Instead of a drawl, he spoke with a lilting British accent with a hint of the islands, perhaps Bahamian or Jamaican.