“But everyone loved him!” Amber gushed.
Sadie leaned back in her chair and fiddled with her coffee cup. “Not everyone, Amber. You don’t have those kinds of problems without an enemy here or there.” Most likely here, Sadie thought, glancing around the hotel lobby. “Anything else?” Not that Amber’s revelations weren’t enough already.
“Well, there was also the paparazzi incident a few weeks ago.”
“What paparazzi incident?”
Amber sighed. “You didn’t see that on Today’s Entertainment Trivia?”
“I pretty much stick to Columbo reruns,” Sadie said. “What happened?”
“Those people follow him everywhere. He pushed a guy out of the way when the guy blocked him from getting into his Ferrari,” Amber said. “So the paparazzi dude sued him for assault. And he countersued for harassment. You should see that car. Bright red. Such a gorgeous ride!”
“He might have gone with something lower key if he wanted to go unnoticed,” Sadie suggested. “Less flashy.”
“Maybe he needed to keep his image up,” Amber suggested. “That last issue of Hot Stars magazine had a cover photo of him leaning against that car.”
“Hot Stars magazine, you say?” Sadie held back a chuckle. “I guess I missed that.”
Myrtle shook her head, smiling. “A gossip rag,” she whispered.
“Well, it does sound like the man had a boatload of problems, Amber,” Sadie said. “I can see why you think he might have taken his own life. But I’m leaning more toward the enemy theory. If it was murder, that is. It also could have been accidental.”
The sound of a chime told Sadie that a customer had entered the boutique. Thanking Amber for the tabloid tidbits, she ended the call, then looked at Myrtle and shrugged her shoulders.
“Any leads there?” Myrtle said. “It sounds like your assistant keeps track of the entertainment headlines. Must be some kind of clues mixed in with the usual hype and gibberish.”
“Probably,” Sadie said. “But I can’t see how, not without more information. Mr. Quinlan certainly had some stress in his life, if the stories are true.”
Myrtle nodded. “I’m sure he did. Celebrity life isn’t all glamour like some people think.” She downed the rest of her coffee and set the empty cup on the table. “You did say something that got me thinking though.”
“What’s that?” Sadie also finished off her drink and set the cup next to Myrtle’s.
“The boatload,” Myrtle said.
Sadie frowned, thinking. “What boatload?”
“The boatload of problems,” Myrtle said. “It just made me wonder how he ended up in the water. Did he just go for a swim? Or was he on some boat or watercraft and had an accident?”
“Or a nonaccident,” Sadie pointed out.
“Yes.” Myrtle drummed her fingers on the table with one hand. Her chin rested on the other hand, elbow propped up on the table. “But why would he have been out on a boat when he had an event? And what boat? I haven’t seen any boat rentals around here.”
“They do have some day excursions north of here,” Sadie said. “I once took one out of Long Beach. We were back in time to make it to a dinner engagement.”
“That’s a possibility then,” Myrtle said.
“Well, there aren’t any details yet,” Sadie said. “Hopefully, there’ll be more on the news tonight. We might have some indication of what he was doing yesterday afternoon, or at least if they suspect foul play.”
“We could try grilling the detectives for more information.” Myrtle tilted her head toward a corner of the lobby where Martin and Sloan were speaking with a middle-aged couple.
Sadie smiled. “I must say, irritating the officers investigating a crime seems to be one of my fortes. I’m rather experienced at it. And I dare say I enjoy it at times.”
“Understandable!” Myrtle agreed. “We all need a little mischief in our lives, don’t we?”
“Absolutely,” Sadie said. “But… these two don’t seem to have much of a sense of humor. I doubt we’ll get any information from them. I say we wait for the news tonight.”
Myrtle tilted her head to the side, eyeing the officers. “You’re right. Perhaps I’ll try lingering within earshot. I could peruse books on that rounder at the front of the gift shop or pretend to be searching for lost sunglasses near their conversations. It won’t seem obvious, and I might overhear something.”
“Now you’re thinking,” Sadie said. “Speaking of hearing, I seem to hear the boardwalk shops calling my name.” She glanced in her tote bag. “Isn’t that right, Coco?” An affirmative yip followed.
“I’ll catch up to you later,” Myrtle said. She stood and pushed her chair back under the table.
Sadie also stood. “There’s a cocktail hour with appetizers from five to six later on.”
“Wouldn’t miss it! See you there.” Myrtle took off for the gift shop, waving one hand over her shoulder as she walked away.
Sadie looped the handle of her tote over her shoulder and swung the bag slightly to the front to keep Coco close. “Let’s hit the boardwalk, Coco.” Smiling at the yip that followed, she headed for the hotel’s front door. After all, what was a beach vacation without a little shopping?
CHAPTER SEVEN
The boardwalk area bustled with activity, half the crowd heading toward the sand, the other half simply walking or browsing beachside businesses. A few people rested on benches, nibbling on funnel cake. A couple dressed in athletic wear jogged past at a medium pace. The atmosphere was light and carefree with the easygoing ambiance created by people with free time on their hands.
Sales racks outside shops stood ready to lure people inside with colorful cover-ups and swimsuits. Always a fan of accessorizing, one small storefront caught Sadie’s eye immediately. Never one to pass up an opportunity to shop, Sadie headed for the small front doorway and stepped inside.
Bertie’s Beach Baubles was aptly named. Wall hooks displayed dangling strands of seashells, bright beads, and whimsical figures of every shape and variety: mermaids, pink flamingos, jungle animals in bathing suits, neon beach balls, metallic surfboards, and more.
“Look, Coco,” Sadie said, fingering one particular strand. “Dogs with sunglasses on!” Coco popped up and peeked over the edge of the tote bag. Seemingly unimpressed, she retreated back inside.
“Don’t worry, I understand,” Sadie said. “What would you do with a clunky necklace six times your height? Not exactly practical, is it?” She moved along from one design to the next, fingering the textures and shapes of tiki-type cocktail drinks, miniature snorkeling gear, beach hats, palm trees, and the requisite seashell, starfish, and seahorse designs.
“So many choices!” a woman’s voice chirped.
Sadie looked up at the sound of the unexpected comment, realizing she’d been so fascinated with the necklaces that she’d almost run right into another customer. Dressed in shorts, a tank top, baseball cap, and sunglasses, the young woman looked like half the people on the boardwalk, yet something about her struck Sadie as familiar. “Yes, indeed!” Sadie quipped. “I simply can’t choose! Then again…” She lifted up a necklace with a repetitive pattern of brightly colored miniature flip-flops. Holding it in front of her chest, she looked in the shop mirror and nodded with approval. “This will do just fine.”
“You have excellent taste,” the woman said, her tone cheerful, almost sugary. She pulled a matching flip-flop necklace off the rack and added one each of the cocktail drinks and beach hats. “Perfect,” she said. “Well, I think I’ll take that one too. It’s darling.” She added a necklace with diminutive suitcases. “Wonderful for a getaway trip!” she said. With a brief goodbye smile, she took her purchases to the sales counter and paid.
“Vacationers are so cheerful,” Sadie said to no one in particular after the woman left the store. “In fact, I feel it too; it’s contagious!” Wandering to a shelf display not far from the sales counter, Sadie picked a bracelet from a basket of varie
d patterns and held it up. “Look, Coco, these match the necklaces on the wall racks. And there’s one with dogs wearing sunglasses! This would work for you!” Coco’s head emerged slowly from the tote bag and tilted her head, giving the item a cautious inspection.
“And it’s thin elastic,” the clerk, a young woman Sadie guessed to be an older teen, pointed out. “So if it catches on anything, it will break.”
Sadie eyed the salesgirl, eyebrows raised. “Ah, I see. Not a great selling point for humans, but…”
The girl smiled and nodded. “Yes, a good safety feature for dogs.”
“Coco does like to be fashionable,” Sadie said. “Isn’t that right, Coco?” The Yorkie sniffed the bracelet in seeming approval. “We’ll take it. And let’s add another one with flip-flops. That way we can match.” She placed both bracelets and the necklace on the sales counter and took a brief stroll around the rest of the shop in case there was anything else she might want to add. The variety was mind-boggling—everything from purple octopus earrings to toe rings bearing giant fuchsia starfish. Sand candles, scarves, refrigerator magnets, and dozens of other whimsical items rounded out the shop offerings. Sadie picked out a beach-themed suncatcher and returned to the sales counter.
“Those suncatchers are cool,” the salesgirl said as she rang up the total. “You can hang them in your window or use them for Christmas ornaments.” Sadie noticed her name tag read Bertie and wondered if she had misjudged the young woman’s age.
“You must be Bertie,” Sadie said, nodding toward the name tag.
“No.” The girl laughed. “That’s my mom’s name tag. I just help out during college breaks.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” Sadie said, withholding the urge to sigh. It was just as she thought; the older she got, the younger everyone else looked.
Paying for her purchases, she placed them in her tote carefully, making sure not to drop anything on Coco’s head. She’d made that mistake before and suffered an extensive yipped lecture.
The boardwalk grew more crowded as Sadie continued on. Cheers and shouts drifted over from a volleyball game, and grunts and groans accompanied determined athletes at a workout area on the sand. Vendor carts offered hot dogs, fresh fruit, and giant pretzels. Sadie made a note to come back to an especially enticing kiosk with the name Surf ’N Sorbet printed on a horizontal surfboard above the counter. A vertical boogie board off to the side announced the flavor choices of the day.
Slender young women in skimpy bikinis hovered flirtatiously near the muscle-builders. An older trio of women held and discussed books at an outdoor café patio, wide-brimmed hats protecting their faces from sun damage. Everywhere she looked, the beachside scene buzzed with activity.
“My,” Sadie said aloud as she paused in front of a surfboard shop. She ran her hand across an impressive design of pink hyacinths on a shimmering blue background. The smooth varnished surface was cool against her skin, a welcome contrast to the growing heat of the day. “Now, I wouldn’t mind a dress made out of that. Don’t you think so, Coco?” She addressed the question directly to her tote bag. “It would match perfectly with those turquoise earrings I picked up in Taos a few years ago.”
A cough alerted her to the fact someone had overheard her musings. She looked up to see a young man leaning in the doorway. His blond hair, T-shirt with the words Surf’s Up on the front, and pendant with what looked like a shark’s tooth, took her right back to her Beach Boys days. Ah, how she’d loved that music. She’d often thought of “Fun, Fun, Fun” as her personal theme song. “Little Deuce Coupe” reminded her of her own red Mustang convertible. And when, two decades later, “Kokomo” emerged on the music scene, she was thrilled.
“I’m not sure fiberglass would be comfortable to wear.” The sly grin that accompanied the remark let Sadie know it was playful teasing. “At least not with epoxy on it,” he added.
“You have a good point there, young man,” Sadie said. “I’ll just have to stick to the beachwear shops for my clothing purchases.”
“Looks like you brought a young surfer with you though.”
Confused, Sadie looked over her shoulder before realizing Coco had stuck her head out of the tote at the sound of a stranger’s voice. The Yorkie chose to show her appreciation for the surfing suggestion by licking the board in question. Twice.
“Sorry about that,” Sadie said, apologizing for Coco’s lack of manners. “Maybe she has a secret desire to surf.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Sadie laughed, deciding to take the question as rhetorical, though perhaps it was serious. “I’m guessing you surf.”
The young man nodded. “Every second that I’m not working or sleeping. I usually get a couple of hours in before work. Well, not this morning.”
“Not this morning?” Sadie raised an eyebrow.
“No.” The surfer looked out at the ocean, frowning. “They say a body washed up on the beach last night. Creepy! I usually surf before work, but like I said, creepy.”
“Yes, that’s understandable.” Creepy indeed. “I heard that news too. I don’t think I’d want to go out in the water, at least not right away,” Sadie said. Not one to miss a chance to take advantage of local knowledge, Sadie pushed for any additional information the young surfer might be able to provide. “Do you have any idea what happened?”
The young man shrugged his shoulders. “Only what everyone’s saying. That it was that GQ hotshot that all the girls go wild over. Drowned or something.”
“Yes,” Sadie said. Or something. “I guess a lot of people go swimming here.” She looked over at the beach, observing crowds by the water.
“Yeah, but if he drowned without anyone seeing, it probably wasn’t right here.”
“Really?” Sadie raised both eyebrows.
“The currents run north to south.”
“I see,” Sadie said, thinking it over. “So if time passed after he drowned…”
“He would have floated here from somewhere else. Like I said, creepy.” He looked up as an attractive girl zoomed by on a skateboard. “Go, Stacey!” he called out. “Crazy chick from my high school,” he added as if owing Sadie an explanation.
Seeing the “crazy chick from high school” circling back to talk to the young surfer, Sadie excused herself and walked back to Surf ’N Sorbet. One purchase of Surf ‘N Strawberry in a waffle cup later, she sat down on a bench to enjoy the frozen concoction and shot a text off to her favorite detective.
Detective Broussard.
Ms. Kramer.
As always, Sadie smiled at their formal greetings. She set Coco on the ground and looped the Yorkie’s pink rhinestone leash around her wrist, giving the petite canine freedom to sniff around and herself freedom to type.
The ocean current here runs north to south, she texted.
Yes, that’s correct.
Sadie sighed. Was she the only one who didn’t know this? She always knew she should have paid more attention in science classes.
So a body that washed up here would have started traveling north of here.
There was a delay before a return text came through. Sadie took a taste of the sorbet balanced behind her cell phone and braced for a lecture on staying uninvolved, and she was relieved to get a simple response.
If it traveled, that’s a reasonable assumption. The current along the California coast would not carry it northbound.
Pleased with this information, Sadie still wasn’t sure how it would tie in with GQ’s situation. But it stood to reason that anything washing up on a beach would be affected by the ocean currents.
What happened to enjoying your beach vacation?
Sadie could envision Broussard grinning. I happen to be sitting by the ocean enjoying sorbet as we speak, er, text. As if to emphasize her statement, she finished off the Mango Madness. She tossed the remaining half of the cone in a nearby trash container, figuring she’d save a few calories that way.
You’re way ahead of me there. I’m sitting at a police
station desk writing reports. I’d be happy to trade places.
Sadie smiled as she typed. I’ll have to think about that. I suspect my view is better.
A safe bet, Broussard sent back.
I’ll let you go then. Maybe I’ll see if the hotel spa has openings. The idea only struck her as she typed, but it certainly seemed like a good one.
Again, happy to trade places with you.
Sadie finished texting, helped Coco back into her tote, and took off for the hotel.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sadie fluffed the pillows on her hotel bed and lay back against them. Relaxed from grabbing a last-minute cancellation at the spa, it took some effort just to lift the remote control to the television. But, determined to hear the five-o’clock news, she clicked it on. Certainly by now the police would have more information about the previous night’s events. Sure enough, it was the lead story. The attractive female news anchor set aside a paper and faced the camera with a professional yet grim expression.
Our top story tonight brings updated news concerning the body that washed up on the shore last night. Police have released the name of the deceased as well-known celebrity Garrison Quinlan following identification by his personal manager, James Chalinder. Mr. Quinlan was to have made a guest of honor appearance at a dinner at the hotel Casa Playa but did not show up for the event. It is not known at this time if foul play is suspected. Police are not releasing any additional details pending an investigation. We will keep you updated as new information becomes available.
“Well, Coco, what do you think of that?” Sadie reached for a bottle of water she’d pulled from the room’s refrigerator when she returned from the spa. She took a sip and set it back down on the night table beside the bed. “That must have been a terrible ordeal for Mr. Chalinder. He was obviously distressed when he ran from the ballroom last night. Don’t you think so, Coco?” Sadie shuddered at the thought of having to identify any body, much less one belonging to a close work associate. Coco, on the other hand, seemed more concerned with her favorite toy, a stuffed red lobster that had accompanied them on the trip.
A Flair For Flip-Flops (The Sadie Kramer Flair Mysteries Book 5) Page 4