Much Ado about Nutmeg

by Sarah Fox

  Chapter Five

  Ivan’s revelation left me so shocked that I couldn’t speak for several seconds.

  “Did you know her?” Brett asked, watching me with concern.

  “I met her a few days ago,” I finally managed to say. “She’s a sports reporter from Seattle. She ate at The Flip Side with Ed Herman, and I saw her at the park last night.” I shook my head as my mind struggled to come to grips with the news. “Poor Ed. He seemed to really like her.”

  Even though I thought Ed deserved far better than two-faced Yvonne, I knew the news of her death would hit him hard.

  “Two drownings in one day?” Lisa said. “I don’t think that’s ever happened here before, not in unrelated incidents.” She looked my way. “Or did she fall off the same boat?”

  “Not that I know of.” Surely people would have been talking about Yvonne going overboard as well as Easton if that had been the case. “I haven’t heard anyone say she was missing.”

  “Maybe no one knew,” Brett said, resting a hand at the small of my back. “If this was a completely separate incident and she wasn’t a local, it could be that she wasn’t missed.”

  “That’s true.” Several thoughts tumbled around in my head all at once. “She was at the opening ceremonies last night, so whatever happened for her to end up in the water must have taken place in the last twenty-four hours. Maybe she was out on a boat this afternoon and fell overboard.”

  My eyes searched the ocean. There were a couple of boats out on the water, but they both appeared to be heading back toward the marina.

  “Here comes Ray,” Brett said.

  I followed his gaze toward the public access path that led between two private homes. Sheriff Ray Georgeson had one of his deputies with him, and they were making their way down the beach on foot. Ray was Brett’s uncle and we’d all met Deputy Devereaux before, so there was no need for introductions when they arrived.

  Once Ray had asked a few preliminary questions, he told us we could head home. He knew where to find all of us if he needed to ask us anything more. Not that Brett and I could offer any further information. Beyond telling Ray what little I knew about Yvonne Pritchard, there wasn’t much I could do.

  Leaving Ray and his deputy to their work, the four of us made our way up the beach while the sun sank slowly toward the western horizon.

  * * * *

  I didn’t sleep well that night. Visions of Easton and Yvonne drowning in the ocean troubled my dreams, and I awoke with a start more than once. When my alarm finally went off, I was tired but relieved to escape any further disturbing dreams.

  While I enjoyed my usual breakfast of a smoothie, I sat at the kitchen table, going over the notes and lists I’d made for the wedding. All the guests had been invited and had responded. Everyone was able to come, including two of Brett’s closest friends who lived in California and Spain. Brett and I had decided early on that we wanted a small wedding, so we’d kept the guest list short. We had a marriage officiant lined up and a caterer booked to provide a spread of tea sandwiches and other finger foods. Brett had rented a canopy and folding tables so we could have the food outdoors. The actual wedding would take place down on the beach, with the reception in our yard.

  As I’d told Brett, the only things left to take care of were the flowers and making sure my dress fit. And hoping the weather would cooperate. That was the one thing I had no control over. I promised myself I wouldn’t get upset if things didn’t unfold as planned on the big day. The only thing that really mattered to me and Brett was getting married. As long as that happened, we’d be happy. Even so, a rainy day would be far from ideal.

  I pushed my notebook aside with a sigh before finishing off my smoothie. Brett dropped two slices of bread into the toaster before coming over to the table and kissing the top of my head.

  “You’re not stressing about the wedding, are you?” he asked.

  “Not really. I’m sure glad we decided to keep it simple, though. It’s still taking a lot of planning and I wouldn’t want to lose focus of the real reason for it all.”

  He tugged me up from my chair and pulled me in close. “That won’t happen, but I’m always happy to remind you anyway.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled. “Same here.”

  He kissed me and then rested his forehead against mine. “You and me. That’s what it’s about.”

  “Best reason ever.”

  As my smile faded, I leaned against Brett.

  He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. “Are you thinking about the reporter?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And Ed. If he doesn’t know about her death yet, he will soon.”

  I’d told Ray that Ed had spent time with Yvonne over the past few days. If Ed hadn’t already been asked if he knew anything about what happened to Yvonne, he’d probably be questioned today. Unless Ray had somehow already figured out how the reporter had ended up in the ocean.

  I’d probably find out soon if that were the case. News always spread quickly in Wildwood Cove, and The Flip Side was often where locals exchanged information about the latest events over coffee and pancakes. Although I was reluctant to leave Brett, I tore myself away from him and finished my morning routine before heading off to work.

  As soon as I had The Flip Side ready to open, I made myself a cup of strong tea, stifling a big yawn as I fished the tea bag out of the hot water. The kitchen door swung open, and Sienna burst into the kitchen.

  “You’re early,” I commented with a glance at the clock on the wall.

  The pancake house wouldn’t open for another half hour. Leigh and Sienna usually showed up closer to seven o’clock.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Not after what happened last night.”

  “You heard about the body on the beach?” I asked.

  “That was quick,” Tommy said.

  I knew Ivan had already told him about the discovery, although probably not in much detail, knowing the chef.

  Sienna tugged a stool over to the island and perched on it. “It was the body of that sports reporter from Seattle.”

  “Yvonne Pritchard,” I said with a nod as I sat on another stool. “How did you hear about it?”

  “From the sheriff, when he showed up at my place last night.”

  “Your place?” Thoughts clicked together in my head. “Was Yvonne staying there?”

  Sienna’s mom ran the Driftwood B&B, housed in a pretty yellow beachfront Victorian.

  “Yep. She checked in a few days ago and was supposed to stay until the end of the Golden Oldies Games. Sheriff Georgeson showed up late last night, right when I was about to go to bed. He wanted any information my mom knew about her, and he took a look at her room.”

  “That makes sense,” I said after blowing on my tea. “He’s probably trying to track down her next of kin.”

  “That and her killer.”

  I nearly spat out the sip of tea I’d just taken. “I thought she’d accidentally drowned.”

  “Nope,” Sienna said. “She was definitely murdered.”

  Chapter Six

  “Sheriff Georgeson told you that?” I asked Sienna, still in shock.

  The fact that Yvonne was dead was disconcerting enough, but murder? I really hadn’t expected that.

  “He didn’t exactly tell me,” Sienna hedged.

  “What does that mean?” Ivan asked, staring at her from across the island.

  Although Sienna averted her gaze from Ivan’s, I was impressed that she didn’t shrink beneath his intimidating glare. Plenty of people twice her age would have withered immediately.

  “When he was looking through the reporter’s room, he got a phone call,” she said. “I overheard him mention that there was no sign of the murder weapon near the body.”

  “You were eavesdropping,” Ivan accused.

 
“Not really.” She bit down on her lower lip and seemed to reconsider what she’d said. “Okay, so I was. But can you blame me?”

  Ivan directed his glower my way.

  “I didn’t tell her to eavesdrop,” I defended myself. “I didn’t even know Yvonne was staying at the B&B.”

  Ivan didn’t respond. He slapped several slices of bacon on the griddle.

  “I swear,” I added.

  Sienna came to my defense. “It’s true. Marley had nothing to do with it. I just couldn’t help myself. Don’t be mad, Ivan.”

  When he glanced up from washing his hands, he got the full force of Sienna’s version of sad puppy dog eyes. It was a look that was highly effective when directed at me. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one it worked on. Ivan’s expression lost some of its sternness.

  “I’m not mad,” he grumbled. “I just don’t want you ending up in danger.” He speared me with his dark gaze. “Either of you.”

  “We don’t plan to do anything dangerous.” I glanced at Sienna. “Right?”

  “Of course not,” she said with a smile.

  I understood Ivan’s concerns. I worried about Sienna’s penchant for sleuthing myself. At the same time, I couldn’t blame her for it without being a total hypocrite. I had much more of a history of sticking my nose into murder investigations and ending up in dicey situations than Sienna did.

  “What else did you overhear?” I asked, hoping Ivan wouldn’t disapprove of the question.

  Fortunately, he continued his food prep without dishing out any reprimands.

  “Not much,” Sienna said with obvious disappointment. “My mom had Yvonne’s home address and her cell number. She gave those to Sheriff Georgeson, but she didn’t know much else about her, other than the fact that she’s a reporter. The sheriff talked to our other guests. One of them said she’d seen Yvonne at other events over the years but hadn’t ever said more than a few words to her. That’s about all I heard.”

  “The other guests at the B&B are involved with the Golden Oldies Games?”

  “Two of them are. They ate here the other day, with the guy who fell off his yacht. Pippa Hampshire is a tennis player. Her boyfriend is staying with her at the B&B, but he’s too young to compete.”

  “Levi,” I said with a nod. “He’s her personal trainer.”

  “That’s some very personal training,” Sienna said with a grin.

  Ivan shot her another glare, but she just shrugged. Behind Ivan, Tommy was grinning as he slid a tray of breakfast scones into the oven. I couldn’t take issue with Sienna’s comment since I’d had the same thought the other day.

  “He must be something like thirty years younger than Pippa,” she said.

  “More like fifteen to twenty,” I amended.

  Ivan’s scowl had returned full-force. “The age difference doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it doesn’t,” I said quickly, knowing there was a gap of about ten years between him and Lisa. “They’re both adults and they seem to be happy together. That’s all that matters.” I addressed Sienna again. “Did the sheriff give any indication of how Yvonne died or when she was killed?”

  “Not that I heard.”

  “When was the last time she was at the B&B?”

  “Friday morning. She left after eating breakfast, around eight o’clock.”

  “So she didn’t come back Friday night?”

  “Nope. My mom gave her a key, and when she didn’t come back before we all went to bed, we just figured she was staying out late. In the morning when she didn’t show up for breakfast, my mom saw that her bed hadn’t been slept in. I know my mom was a bit worried by then, but to be honest, I thought Yvonne had hooked up with some guy and spent the night with him. My mom tried calling her cell, but no one answered. She was going to call the sheriff if Yvonne didn’t show up again last night, but then he came by and told us she was dead.”

  “When you found Yvonne, did you notice any clues as to how she was killed?” I asked Ivan.

  He gave a noncommittal grunt as he sliced up some mushrooms.

  I watched him closely as he set down his knife and wiped his hands on a towel. Ivan wasn’t a very talkative man, but I was getting better and better at reading him.

  “You already knew she was murdered,” I said.

  “Strongly suspected,” he corrected.

  Tommy paused as he was about to break an egg into a bowl. “You never said anything.”

  “If the sheriff hasn’t said publicly that the woman was murdered, he might not want people to know yet.” Ivan directed his piercing gaze at the three of us in turn. “So this information shouldn’t leave this room.”

  “It won’t,” I assured him, before rethinking. “Well…” When Ivan scowled at me, I quickly explained. “I can’t keep secrets from Brett, but I won’t tell anyone else.”

  That seemed to satisfy him.

  “But why did you suspect she was murdered?” Sienna’s eyes widened. “Did you see a gunshot wound?”

  “She was shot?” Tommy asked.

  “I was just guessing,” Sienna said.

  Ivan slid two Belgian waffles onto a plate and set a small jug of strawberry syrup next to them. “There was a wound, but not from a gunshot.”

  “A wound on her head? Somewhere else?” I pressed.

  Ivan passed the plate of waffles to Sienna, receiving a bright smile of thanks in exchange.

  “An abdominal wound beneath a tear in her clothes,” he said as Sienna began to eat. “A penetrating wound. It could have been caused accidentally, or after she was in the water.”

  “But you don’t think so,” I finished for him, knowing he wasn’t convinced by those possibilities.

  “I didn’t think it was likely,” he admitted. “And now that the sheriff’s looking for a murder weapon…”

  I nodded, trying to absorb all of this new information. Sienna remained quiet, too busy eating her strawberry-drenched waffles to speak.

  “So there’s a good chance she was stabbed,” I said after a moment. “But where did the murder happen? And why did someone kill her?”

  “Those questions are best left to the sheriff,” Ivan advised.

  “I’m not planning to investigate,” I said.

  The grunt he gave as he turned back to his work suggested that he didn’t believe me.

  * * * *

  The same questions I’d posed in the kitchen continued to circle in my mind as I worked. It was clear from the conversations going on around the pancake house that it was now general knowledge that a body had been found on the beach. Not everyone knew the identity of the victim, but that information spread quickly from diner to diner.

  From what I overheard, everyone assumed—as I had done—that Yvonne had accidentally drowned. I heeded Ivan’s advice and kept quiet about the fact that Ray was investigating her death as a murder. Sienna did too, not that I’d expected anything different.

  As interested as I was in Yvonne’s murder, my curiosity took a sudden backseat when Gary Thornbrook arrived at The Flip Side with Ed in tow. My heart ached when I saw that Ed’s usual happy expression had been replaced by a somber one.

  The two men had arrived during a lull between the breakfast and lunch rushes, so they didn’t have to wait for a table. They even managed to snag their favorite one, and I hurried over to fill their coffee mugs as they got settled.

  “Ed, I’m so sorry about Yvonne,” I said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thanks, Marley. I appreciate that.” He shook his head as I filled his mug with coffee. “She was a wonderful woman. I don’t understand how this happened.” He turned his head away, overcome by emotion.

  “It’s a terrible thing,” Gary said.

  I could see in his face that he was worried about his friend.

  “Have you talked to the sheriff
?” I asked Ed once he’d had a chance to compose himself. “He probably wants to talk to anyone who had contact with Yvonne while she was in Wildwood Cove.”

  Ed nodded and tugged his coffee mug closer to him. “I talked to him this morning. I wasn’t much help. He wanted to know when I’d last seen Yvonne and what I knew about her plans for Friday night. All I could tell him was that I’d last seen her at the park in the evening. She was interviewing some athletes when I left.” He stared into his coffee. “That was the last time I saw her. She never said what she planned to do later that evening.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said again.

  “Not knowing how she drowned makes it even harder.”

  I didn’t correct him about the cause of death. Clearly, Ray hadn’t shared that with him and I wouldn’t break the promise I’d made to Ivan. Besides, I didn’t want to be the one to tell Ed that someone had killed Yvonne.

  “Sheriff Georgeson will figure it out,” Gary said in an attempt to reassure his friend.

  “Maybe,” Ed said without much conviction. He looked up at me, a spark of hope appearing in his eyes. “Or Marley will.”

  “Um…” I wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  “How Yvonne drowned is a mystery,” Ed said. “You’re good at solving mysteries. I bet you could figure out what happened.”

  “I’m flattered by your confidence in me,” I said, “but Sheriff Georgeson will probably have answers for you soon.”

  And at least some of what Ray knew would hurt Ed even more.

  “But if he doesn’t figure it out soon, will you try?” he pressed.

  I hesitated, remembering Ivan’s warnings to leave the matter to the authorities.

  “Please, Marley?” Ed asked. “I don’t think I can handle never knowing what happened.”

  I glanced at Gary, only to have my heart ache even more. His eyes were almost as beseeching as Ed’s.

  There was really only one thing I could bring myself to say to them in that moment.

  “If Sheriff Georgeson doesn’t figure it out soon, I’ll do my best.”