Deadly Intentions

by Leighann Dobbs

  Celeste looked down at her black yoga pants and white t-shirt. “No. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Stepping off the front porch, they both took a deep breath of salty sea air. ‘I never get tired of that smell,” Celeste said.

  “Me, either. I love it first thing in the morning before the restaurants start up and the smell of fried seafood gets into the air.”

  The Blackmoore house was set at the very point of land where the channel to the cove kissed the Atlantic Ocean. Although it was on over an acre of land, it was still situated within smelling distance of the cove restaurants. It was only a mere quarter of a mile walk to the heart of the cove, which gave them the best of both worlds—the privacy and ocean view along with the convenience of close shops and restaurants. The only drawback was that sometimes they could smell those restaurants from their front porch, especially when the breeze was blowing to the south.

  The walked down the driveway side by side, the gulls crying above them. Jolene was quiet, trying to think up a way to broach the subject of their mother’s death.

  “So, what’s with this Andrea June you were asking about yesterday?” Celeste asked as if she had read her mind.

  Jolene’s hand flew up to the locket around her neck. “I think she might know something about Mom’s death.”

  Celeste stopped short. “What do you mean? Mom jumped off the cliff.”

  “I know, but don’t you think the investigation was lacking? Overton tied it up pretty quickly and there was hardly any evidence. Besides, I don’t remember Mom being depressed enough to kill herself, do you?” Jolene’s fingers fiddled nervously with the locket. She hoped Celeste would think about what she had to say and not just dismiss her out of hand.

  Celeste’s eyes darted to the locket. “Isn’t that the locket that looks just like the one Mom wore?”

  “Yes.” Jolene pulled it away from her neck and angled her head to look at it.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Nothing.” Jolene flipped it open to show her. “Why?”

  Celeste shrugged. “Oh nothing … Grandma said something to me about the key being in the locket, but sometimes she says things that don’t make much sense.”

  Jolene pressed her lips together and looked at the locket a few seconds before snapping it shut again. The locket had been empty when she’d found it. She had no idea what this key was or if it had anything to do with her mother’s death. “So, anyway, don’t you think there might be more to Mom’s death than we were told?”

  Celeste screwed her face up. “Well, honestly I never really thought about it. I was only a teenager at the time and I guess I just assumed the adults knew better.”

  “I was pretty young, too, but I remember some things didn’t add up. Every time I asked a question, though, I was told to shush up. I guess that’s why Overton ended up hating us so much. Maybe my nosy questions got him in trouble with his superiors.”

  “Well, they did find her scarf washed up on the rocks and there was a witness that saw her jump,” Celeste offered.

  Jolene snorted. “Earl Whiting? You know as well as I do that he’s about as reliable as cable TV in a thunderstorm. Besides, I think he’s hiding something.” Jolene told her about Earl’s expensive purchases and Mae’s warning about finding the truth from Andrea June.

  Celeste started walking slowly toward the cove and Jolene followed. “But surely you aren’t suggesting she didn’t jump.”

  “No, I’m just saying the circumstance might have been different than what we were led to believe.” Jolene’s fingers fiddled with the locket around her neck. “We owe it to her to find out for sure.”

  “Okay. What can I do to help?”

  “For starters, don’t tell Morgan or Fiona. They’ll just try to get me to stop and I really feel like I’m on to something. Other than that, it will just be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of.”

  “Well, you can count on me,” Celeste said as they reached the main part of the cove.

  “Oh, there’s Josiah Littlefield.” Jolene nodded toward a wiry white-haired man struggling with a lobster trap on the dock. “I want to ask him about Jeb’s traps.”

  Josiah looked up at them as they approached. “Hi, girls. Nice day, ay?”

  “It sure is,” Jolene said. “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

  “Ayuh.” Josiah looked back down at lobster trap he was repairing, the sinewy muscles on his lean arms rippling under his leathery, tanned skin.

  Not bad for an old guy, Jolene thought as she tried to figure out the best way to phrase the question.

  “Have you heard anything about an issue between Gordy Ellis and Jebediah Powers?”

  Josiah chuckled. “When hasn’t there been an issue between those two? Those boys been goin’ at it since grade school.”

  “I remember some of those fights,” Celeste said.

  “Thing is, their daddies started the feud and the boys are just carryin’ it on,” Josiah said.

  “Jeb seems to think Gordy might have messed with his traps—says some of them are missing.”

  Josiah stopped what he was doing and looked at Jolene, squinting into the sun that was behind her. “Is that so? Well, I don’t rightly know ‘bout that, but I don’ think Gordy would do that. Boy knows better than to mess with another fisherman’s traps, no matter how much of a feud they got goin’ on.”

  Jolene nodded. She felt the same way. The traps were a fisherman’s livelihood and it was a low blow to mess with them.

  “Got any idea who might have messed with them and why?” Jolene asked. Someone had messed with them—maybe it wasn’t Gordy, though.

  Josiah shook his head. “Sorry, don’t know nuttin’ ‘bout that.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Jolene turned to go, took a step, then turned back. “Hey, Josiah, you don’t know where I could find Andrea June, do you?”

  To her surprise, Josiah nodded.

  “Ayuh. I reckon she be right over there.” He pointed to a stack of boats moored at the edge of the cove.

  Jolene’s heart soared with hope. “She has a boat?”

  “Nope,” Josiah said.

  Jolene scrunched up her face at him. “But you pointed at the boats.”

  Celeste cut in before Josiah could answer. “Not has a boat … is a boat.”

  Jolene squinted in the direction Celeste was looking. Four boats were moored right next to each other. The furthest was a dilapidated old lobster boat that looked like it might sink on the spot. As the boats moved in the shallow waves, that boat edged forward far enough for Jolene to read the name on the front.

  Andrea June.

  Chapter Eight

  Celeste was starting to regret making the trip to the cove with Jolene.

  Too late now, she thought as she sat crammed into the dinghy Jolene had commandeered from an old high school friend she’d run into on the dock.

  A sense of foreboding came over her as the Andrea June loomed closer and closer. White paint chips dotted her side, giving away the original color of the now dull-gray boat. Clusters of barnacles stuck out from the boat at the water line. It had been a long time since anyone had cared for the Andrea June. Josiah had said he hadn’t seen the boat leave the cove in years, but someone had to be paying the mooring bill, otherwise it wouldn’t still be here.

  Jolene pulled the dinghy alongside the boat and tied it off to the mooring where the rope from the Andrea June was hanging on by a thread. Judging by the degree of disintegration of the rope, it wouldn’t be long before the Andrea June broke free and floated out to sea.

  “Come on, let’s get onboard.” Jolene laid the oars on the floor of the dinghy and grabbed the ladder on the side of the boat. Celeste secured the small bottle of lavender oil in her pocket and followed suit, glancing at the dilapidated deck boards dubiously.

  “Is that thing going to hold us?” Celeste had visions of plunging through the deck into the waters of the cove below. At least it was warm out and the cove water wasn
’t that deep.

  But the deck held Jolene, so Celeste scrambled onboard behind her.

  “Are you sure Mae said you could find the truth here? Maybe there is actually a real person named Andrea June … fishermen name their boats after real people most of the time. Maybe we should be looking for the real Andrea June to find out the truth?”

  Jolene shrugged. “Maybe, but I searched all the databases and couldn’t find her.”

  “Now what?” Celeste looked around the small deck. There was nothing really to see—an old moth-eaten life jacket. Half an oar. The old motor hanging off the back was more rust than anything and probably hadn’t worked in years.

  Jolene pointed toward a small cabin below the deck. “Maybe there will be a clue down there.”

  Celeste’s stomach clenched as she looked into the dark cabin. “Maybe. You go first.”

  She crowded into the small space behind her sister, propping the cabin door open with a brick that she’d found lying beside it. The cabin consisted of a counter, the remnants of a ratty old mattress and a bucket. Celeste didn’t want to speculate as to what the bucket was used for. The dust was an inch thick. No one had been on this boat in years.

  Jolene bent over the counter, shuffling through a pile of papers. Celeste planted her feet, steadying herself against the rocking motion of the boat and willing her ears to ignore the alarming creaks and groans.

  “Look at this,” Jolene said. “These papers are dated the year Mom died.”

  Celeste bent over Jolene’s shoulder to see the seven-year-old newspaper and the breath rushed out of her when she read it. “It’s an article about Mom’s death.”

  Jolene looked at her with wide eyes. “Let’s see what else is here.”

  Celeste bent down to help sort through the papers, which included menus, newspaper clippings and some pictures. She stopped short when she came to one that was eerily familiar—the cliff next to their house.

  “Why would a picture of our cliff be here?” Jolene mused.

  “I don’t know, but that looks like the spot where Mom was standing when she …” Celeste’s throat closed up and she let her voice trail off, not wanting to say the words.

  “And look at this.” Jolene held up a scrap of dark pink silk fabric. Celeste didn’t recognize it, but the tone of Jolene’s voice made her scalp tingle.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure, but it looks like a scrap of fabric from the scarf Mom was wearing that day. The one that washed up on the rocks later on.”

  Celeste stared at the fabric.

  Why would fabric from the scarf her mother had worn the day she died be on this boat?

  The boat lurched with the force of a large wave and the cabin door swung free of the brick, its rusty hinges screaming with the effort. Celeste lunged forward to catch the door before it slammed shut cutting off the light to the cabin.

  She pushed at it and it swung back open. The figure of a man sprang into the doorway, partially blocking the light.

  Celeste gasped when she noticed the light filtering through the shadowy figure.

  “What is it? Jolene jerked her head in the direction Celeste was looking.

  “A ghost,” Celeste whispered out of the side of her mouth. Then louder she asked. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Barnes. This is my boat and you’re trespassing.”

  “You don’t keep your boat up very well,” Celeste said. Clearly, he didn’t realize he was dead. “Where have you been?”

  Barnes’ face swirled into a mass of wrinkles. “Been? Why, I been lobstering out at the point.”

  “The point where our house is?”

  “Your house?” Barnes glanced from Celeste to Jolene in confusion. Another wave set the boat rocking. Celeste braced herself on the counter to keep from falling.

  “You’re those Blackmoore girls? But I thought you were much younger.”

  “We were back then …” Celeste’s voice trailed off. She realized Barnes’ ghost was stuck seven years in the past, but had no idea how to explain it to him.

  “What’s going on?” Jolene whispered in Celeste’s ear.

  “It’s Barnes, the guy who owns this boat.”

  “Well then, find out why he has this.” Jolene held the scrap of pink fabric up.

  “Where’d you get that?” Barnes snarled at Jolene, not realizing she could neither see nor hear him.

  “We should ask you the same,” Celeste said. “It’s our mother’s, isn’t it?

  A mix of emotions flitted across Barnes’ face. He glanced behind him nervously. Swirls of vapor drifted around him.

  “You girls shouldn’t be here. It could be dangerous.”

  No kidding.

  “What do you know about our mother?” Celeste persisted. The boat was rocking harder now and an acrid odor drifted past Celeste’s nose.

  Gasoline?

  “I knew your mother. Knew her well. I liked her a lot. That’s why I couldn’t understand …” Barnes’ ghost shrugged.

  “Understand what?” Celeste prompted. “Our mother jumped off the cliff outside our home.”

  “Is that what you heard?”

  “Do you know different?”

  “I set my traps out by the cliffs on the south side. I saw your mother on the cliff that evening. ”

  Celeste’s heartbeat picked up a notch. “You did? What did you see?”

  Next to her, Jolene was busy swiveling her head between Celeste and the ghost she couldn’t see. Celeste sensed the tension coming from her sister. She knew Jolene was dying to find out what they were talking about, but didn’t want to interrupt. Barnes was on a roll and Celeste didn’t want to stop the interrogation to fill Jolene in.

  Barnes glanced behind him again, then his ghostly figure glided a few inches toward them. He lowered his voice. “Let’s just say your mother might have had company on the cliff.”

  Celeste’s eyes widened. “Company? Who?”

  Barnes glided even closer.

  Bang!

  The door slammed shut, leaving them in darkness.

  “Celeste?” Jolene’s shaky voice filled the dark cabin.

  “I’m right he—”

  Kaboom!

  ***

  Celeste instinctively held her breath as the blast catapulted her into the chilly ocean. She opened her eyes, searching the murky cove waters to get her bearings. Being an experienced scuba diver and accustomed to finding her way under water, it didn’t take long for her to figure out which way was up, and she quickly kicked her way to the surface.

  She broke through amidst the flaming boat debris. Beads of water flung from her hair as she whipped her head around frantically searching for Jolene.

  “Jolene!”

  “Over here!” Jolene’s head bobbed in the water six feet away and Celeste swam toward it.

  Behind them, the dock was a hubbub of activity as people rushed to the dinghies to get into the water and put out the flaming debris before any other boats caught on fire. Two fishermen had jumped in the water and were swimming toward her and Jolene.

  “Are you okay?” Celeste came alongside Jolene.

  “Yep. But I don’t think Andrea June is.”

  Celeste spun around in the water and looked toward the Andrea June. Or rather where the Andrea June had once been. Only the deck remained. Partially submerged and slowly sinking. Celeste watched as the bow tipped up higher and higher, while the back of the boat sank lower and lower.

  “Are you guys okay?” The two fishermen had reached them. “Can you swim back on your own?”

  “I’m okay,” Celeste looked at Jolene. “Are you?”

  Jolene nodded and the four of them swam to the dock, dodging debris and fishermen rushing out in dinghies on the way. The two men helped pull them out of the water. Someone handed them blankets. Even though it was eighty degrees outside, the ocean water in the cove was only sixties degrees and Celeste was chilled.

  “What happened?” someone in the crowd asked.
r />   “Must have been a gas explosion,” another answered.

  “Whose boat was that?” Celeste heard someone ask behind her.

  She turned and recognized the speaker as Bobby Shore, a local.

  “Barnes,” she answered.

  “Barnes?” An older man, Jonathan Wild looked at her strangely. “But, no one has seen him in years.”

  Celeste shrugged and the harbormaster at the edge of the crowd spoke up. “He hasn’t been around, but his mooring fee’s been getting paid, so his boat has been sitting all this time.”

  “If you ask me, its good riddance to that eyesore,” someone in the back of the crowd muttered.

  “Probably should have gotten rid of that boat long ago. I bet the gas tank was compromised … it was in such a bad state of repair,” a woman said primly.

  Celeste and Jolene sat on the edge of the dock and watched while the volunteers put out the rest of the fires, picked planks up from the decks of the other boats and netted the floating debris out of the harbor. It didn’t take long for the novelty to wear off and the crowd to disperse.

  “What happened back there?” Jolene asked when the onlookers had left them alone on the dock.

  Celeste knew she wasn’t talking about the explosion. “Barnes’ ghost was there. He knew something.”

  “And those pictures and the scrap of fabric …” Jolene looked down at her hands. “I dropped it when the boat exploded. We lost that evidence.”

  “We might have lost the physical evidence on that boat, but now we know you were right about there being more to Mom’s death than we were told.”

  Jolene shrugged. “Well, the pictures and the scarf don’t prove much.”

  “Not that,” Celeste said. “The last thing Barnes told me before the boat blew up was that Mom wasn’t alone on the cliff the day she died.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jolene’s wet clothes felt as heavy as if they were made of lead, but at least they weren’t still dripping. The walk home hadn’t been pleasant and now, walking up the porch steps, she winced as the soaked jeans chafed her thighs.

  “I can’t believe no one at the cove saw anyone near the Andrea June,” Jolene said as she grabbed the front door handle. After the excitement had died down, they’d asked around and no one had noticed anyone anywhere near the boat.