Trawling for Trouble: A Celebration Bay Mystery Novella

by Shelley Freydont

“Why?” Liv asked, suddenly concerned.

  “Because,” Chaz said. “They’re ’Nam vets, they live by themselves out in the woods, they don’t care for authority, and they might take exception to being questioned.”

  “Post-traumatic stress?” Liv asked.

  “At least.”

  Bill took out his cell and called A.K. He walked away from Liv and Chaz to talk, which Liv thought was odd, but she supposed it was police business. A.K. Pierce wasn’t police, but he ran a private security firm that Liv had hired to augment the security of Celebration Bay’s festivals and holiday events. Bill gladly used him, unofficially, alongside his regular force.

  “He’s meeting me out here. You two are free to go, but I’d like you to come in later and sign statements.”

  Liv and Chaz both nodded. Neither of them moved.

  “You can go now.”

  “I have things to remove from the Truth . . .” Chaz began.

  No kidding, Liv thought. Things like the rods and the thermos and the cooler from the boat. And Chaz’s intentions, which were already about as far removed from the actual “truth” as possible. Chaz was hatching a plan.

  Chapter 4

  Bill narrowed his eyes at Chaz.

  “Lot of work keeping a boat clean and in running order,” Chaz said.

  Bill switched his gaze to Liv.

  She shrugged.

  “Come on, princess,” Chaz said. “You caught the stiff. Don’t think you’re getting out of cleaning up.”

  “Swab the deck?” Liv asked.

  “Right,” Chaz said. “Swab the deck, batten down the hatches. And carry out my garbage.”

  “What? No walking the plank?” Liv said.

  “Only if you annoy me.”

  “Huh,” Bill said. “But no interfering with the investigation. “

  “Wouldn’t think of it. Come on, matey, let’s get those mops out.” Chaz turned Liv around by the shoulders. “March.”

  Liv marched, though she was already having second thoughts. She didn’t know a thing about cleaning boats, but she knew Chaz was up to something, and someone had to be the voice of reason.

  She waved over her shoulder to Bill and followed Chaz back down the pier.

  He walked past the Seaworthy and jumped onto the deck of the Truth or Consequences. He reached back to give Liv a hand. She took it. Another few times and she’d be jumping down like a pro.

  “Thanks,” she said, when he let go. “Now, do you really need to clean your boat, or do you have something up your sleeve?”

  “Would I lie?”

  “Yes. Don’t think the name of your boat fools me.”

  “Well, I do want to get a closer look at the Seaworthy.”

  “Don’t you think Bill will search it if he sees the need?”

  “When and if he finds Seamus and Gus, and does the paperwork, it might have rained and washed the evidence away.”

  “Why wouldn’t he find them? You think they killed that guy and are on the lam?”

  Chaz smiled.

  “What?”

  “On the lam. Sometimes you’re just so darn cute.”

  “Am not.”

  “No, usually you’re a sophisticated professional with a gold-plated vocabulary. I figure the real you is somewhere in between. Now, let’s find you a mop.”

  They swabbed, then they loaded up the cooler, and Chaz carried the trash up to a receptacle by the office. He hurried back to the pier, but instead of boarding the Seaworthy like she expected, he climbed back onto the Truth or Consequences and herded Liv into the cabin.

  And waited.

  “What are we waiting for?” Liv asked.

  “For Seamus and Gus to figure out that everyone is gone. I’m hoping they’ll come back to finish cleaning up any evidence in their boat.”

  “With both of our cars there?”

  “Well, they’ll probably think we decided to make use of one of the cabins. People do.”

  Liv shuddered. “In your dreams.”

  “Not mine. A little too rustic for my tastes.”

  “So do you have a plan?”

  “I’m just going to talk to them.”

  “Do you think Bill will let them come back? I thought he was taking them in for questioning.”

  “He’ll have to find them first. I doubt if they moved far from here. If they left anything in the boat, they’ll come back for it before Bill can get a search warrant. Something doesn’t smell right about this.”

  Liv was too polite to say fishing in general was a stinky business. But she knew what he meant. “You think one of them killed that poor guy? Shot him in the back? That seems unsoldierly.”

  “I don’t know,” Chaz said. He put his fingers to his lips. “Someone’s coming.”

  Simultaneously, they moved to the window. Manny Corada was headed quickly and furtively toward the pier.

  “What do you think he’s up to?” Liv whispered.

  “No good,” Chaz said and pushed her head down so she couldn’t be seen from the pier.

  He crouched down beside her and they both listened, alert, and heard Manny’s footsteps on the wood; the thump when he jumped onto the deck of the Seaworthy; the boat knocking up against the pier as it rocked against Manny’s weight.

  Silently, Chaz moved away and onto the deck. Liv followed. She didn’t know what he planned to do, but she didn’t want to be left out.

  She managed to get out of the boat and on her feet without help, which was a good thing, since Chaz seemed to have forgotten her and was creeping toward the Seaworthy.

  They were waiting for Manny when he emerged from the cabin empty-handed. He yelped and jumped back, nearly losing his footing. “What the hell? You scared the bejeezus out of me.”

  “What were you doing in Gus and Seamus’s boat?” Chaz asked.

  “Gus thought he left his watch and didn’t want it to sit out here all night in case somebody with sticky fingers decided to do a look-see.”

  “Did you find it?”

  “Nah. He probably left it somewhere’s else. Or maybe he just forgot he’s still wearing it. He does stuff like that.” Manny pointed to his temple. “Not all there sometimes, you know?”

  Chaz nodded. Several cars drove into the parking lot. An SUV carrying a big pontoon boat stopped at the office.

  “Damn, I wish these folks would use the big marina,” Manny said, getting off the Seaworthy. “I don’t have space for them to dock. They don’t buy licenses or nothing, just load the thing up with beer and go sit out on the lake till they’re fall-down drunk, then come back.”

  “I imagine that’s why they don’t use the big marina. Call the shore patrol on them.”

  “Man, I’m not going to squeal on anybody. Not even them. But they don’t even offer me a tip or nothing.”

  He turned and was making his way toward the newcomers, when Chaz called out, “I’m leaving the Truth here for another night maybe, that okay?”

  Manny waved yes.

  “Where do you usually keep it?” Liv asked.

  “I have a berth over at Cove Marina. This is convenient, close to the best fishing, easy access to the water, never a wait . . . but not secure.” He was watching Manny talking to the driver of the SUV. Manny finally motioned to him to get out of the car, which he did, then followed Manny into the office.

  As soon as they were out of sight, Chaz bent down to look at something on the wooden planks.

  “What are you looking at?” Liv peered down to the wood. It just looked old and none too clean to her.

  He frowned at her. “Do you remember what Gus and Seamus were carrying when we saw them this morning?”

  Liv shook her head. Thought back. “A big fish.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not that I recall, though I wasn
’t really looking at them. The fish kind of had my attention.” Gus had been holding it like a baby, up against his chest, and Liv had been fervently hoping she wouldn’t have to touch one at all and certainly not hug it like Gus was doing. She’d never get the smell out of her clothes. She was such a wuss.

  “Was Seamus carrying anything?”

  “The other guy? His hat. Like Gus, except Gus also had the fish.” She frowned conjuring up the scene. “No rods, no cooler. Is that unusual?”

  “They might leave their equipment on the boat. But if they were out fishing all night, they would have brought something to keep the catch in.”

  “Maybe they only caught the one fish.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Keep lookout, will you?” He eased himself down onto the Seaworthy.

  “What are you looking for?” Liv asked, looking around to make sure no one was coming.

  “I don’t know.”

  He moved around the deck, peered into corners, lifted ropes and put them back. Once he stopped and scrutinized the back of one of the molded benches that ran down each side of the boat. He bent over, scratched at something, then brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed.

  “Blood,” he said, and disappeared into the cabin.

  Liv peered at the place he’d been, but all she could see from the pier was a slight discoloration among the many other discolorations on the old fishing boat.

  The SUV driver came out of the office and headed for his car.

  “Chaz,” Liv hissed urgently.

  Chaz reappeared immediately and leapt back on the pier, looking innocent as he watched the man get in his SUV and back his trailer into the water.

  “Find anything?” Liv asked.

  “Nope. I thought they might have been out on a run, but if they were, they didn’t pick up any cargo for the return. But that was definitely blood on the back of the bench. Blood isn’t uncommon when you’re cleaning fish on board, but not on the back of the seat. And considering that they came back with only one fish, not gutted, my guess is that the body was on this boat at some point after he was shot. The next question is why.”

  Liv frowned while her mind made the connection. “You mean one of them might really have killed him?”

  Chaz shrugged. “Let’s go. With all this activity going on, I doubt if Gus and Seamus will come back anytime soon.”

  They gathered up their belongings and carried them back to their two cars.

  “Now what?” Liv asked. “Do we go to the sheriff’s office, or do we wait for him to call?”

  “If Bill and A.K. went after Seamus and Gus, I doubt they’ll be back by now. I say we just wait for a while. Pick me up around three. We’ll go over together.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  * * *

  Liv stood under the shower until her skin was pink, then washed her hair and was wrapping it in a turban when her doorbell rang.

  She slipped into a bathrobe and went to see who it was. One of her landladies, certainly: Miss Ida or Miss Edna, or both. Whiskey had beaten her to the door and his tail was thumping furiously.

  Liv opened the door to Miss Edna.

  Edna Zimmerman was the taller, more down-to-earth, and, perhaps, older of the two retired teachers. Her hair was cut short and frizzed around her face. She had given up her floral shirtwaists and sensible shoes the day she retired from teaching. Today she was dressed in a pair of seersucker slacks and a collared knit shirt.

  “I thought you were going to be gone all day,” she said. “Is anything wrong?”

  Liv opened the door wider and invited her in.

  “Oh no, I won’t bother you. I really just wanted to make sure you were all right. Ida and I heard they found a body up at the lake today.”

  “You heard already?”

  “Oh yes, it was on the morning news. We went right to our radio, but there wasn’t any chatter on the police band.” She sighed. “Did you see anything? Do you know what happened?”

  Liv huffed out a long sigh of her own. “I sort of fished the guy out of the water.” She hung her head. “I caught him by his pants pocket.”

  “Oh dear.” Miss Edna put her hand to her mouth, but Liv was pretty sure it was to hide her laugh.

  “I know, only I could do something like that.”

  “Not at all, it’s just, of all people to find a murdered man . . . Can I fix you a cup of tea?”

  “No, I’m fine really. How did you know it was murder?”

  “Well, not from the television. Actually Ruth Benedict saw the coroner’s van from her window. She lives on that hill across Lakeside Road. She knows everything that goes on there. And it isn’t all fishing. She called her friend that works in the coroner’s office to get the skinny.”

  And then called everybody she knew, thought Liv. Ruth was the worst busybody in town.

  “Oh, but you must be getting a chill. Why don’t I take Whiskey and give you some time to relax, then come over. We’ll have a little lunch and you can tell us all about it.”

  “I’d love to, but I have to go out to the sheriff’s office and give them my statement.”

  “Why didn’t Bill just take it while he was there?”

  “Because he was sort of in a hurry to pick up these two fishermen we saw for questioning.”

  “Nobody we know, I hope.”

  Liv shook her head. “I didn’t know them. Two older—” She started to say gentlemen, but that didn’t really describe Gus and Seamus. “I think they live around here somewhere. Chaz said they were veterans.”

  “Oh dear, you don’t mean Seamus and Gus?”

  “Yes. You know them?” Of course she did. Seamus—or was it Gus?—said they were going to give Miss Ida the fish they caught.

  “We’ve known them for years. Well, Seamus, at least. He grew up around here, came home after Vietnam.” Edna tsked. “Never was the same after that. Kept to himself. Then Gus showed up one day, just passing through, and stayed. They knew each other in the war.”

  Liv watched as Edna’s eyes misted. Remembered that Miss Edna and her sister Ida had both lost fiancés in “the war.” They never spoke of it and Liv hadn’t asked, though she assumed it must’ve been in the Korean War.

  “So many bright young men and women. Seems like we’re always fighting somebody.”

  Liv nodded, then changed the subject. “They caught a fish for Miss Ida, and it’s a beauty, too.”

  “What? Oh, so kind, poor man.”

  Liv began to worry. It was the first time she had ever seen Miss Edna, the more no-nonsense of the two sisters, being so sentimental.

  “I’ll ask Bill if Seamus can send the fish over,” Liv said.

  “Oh, thank you, dear, that would be nice. Ida was so looking forward to fish. Come, Whiskey.”

  Whiskey looked up at Liv, then followed Miss Edna out the door.

  Chapter 5

  Liv picked Chaz up around three. He was ready to go—shaved, dressed in clean jeans, and wearing a T-shirt that still held its shape and was free of any holes that Liv could see.

  She raised both eyebrows at him when he climbed into her car. He ignored her, buckled himself in, and looked out the window all the way to the police station.

  “Are you upset about something?”

  “Huh? No. Just thinking.”

  “Working on a theory?”

  “Thinking about what to have for dinner.”

  After that she gave up. She knew a put-off when she heard it. She wouldn’t beg. Though she did wonder what had happened between this morning and now that made him seem pensive.

  The sheriff’s department was located on a county road about ten miles out of town. It was a one-story utilitarian building set back from the road on a section of rolling hill, with ample visitor parking and a compound for county vehicles around the back. Liv h
ad only been here a couple of times. When Bill wanted to talk, he usually came to the events office.

  But the events office was closed for two weeks’ vacation while Liv supposedly learned to fish and her assistant Ted went to visit friends. Down the coast. Here and there. Somehow he had made it out of the office and to wherever he was going without telling anyone where exactly he’d be.

  The man liked his privacy, and Liv tried not to overstep.

  She pulled into a vacant parking spot in front of the station, and she and Chaz went inside. The utilitarian theme was duplicated for the interior, with beige tile floors and official-building-green walls.

  They stopped at the check-in desk, where they were given ID badges and then escorted down the hall by a security guard.

  Bill was waiting for them in his office, and so was A.K. Pierce.

  Liv hadn’t been expecting him, and the sight of the tall, muscular marine made her catch her breath. He had presence, and between the muscles, his intense eyes, and his closely shaved head, he could also be slightly intimidating. He ran his security service with a tight hand and hired men and women who, like him, were in control.

  He greeted her with a slight dip of his chin.

  Bill motioned them to sit and pressed the intercom. A minute later a police stenographer came into the room and sat behind a laptop computer at a table off to one side.

  A.K. nodded to Bill. “I’ll leave you to it. Are you holding Seamus and Gus?”

  “For now. They’re not telling the whole truth. Maybe not any of the truth. I’m keeping them until I hear from the authorities in New York and Canada. There’s something off about those two. I don’t think they were out all night fishing. We didn’t find any fish.”

  “There was one,” Liv said. “Chaz and I saw it. They were going to give it to the Zimmerman sisters.”

  Bill looked to Chaz for confirmation.

  He nodded.

  A.K. looked from Liv to Chaz to Bill. “Locking them up won’t help get anything from them. Just the opposite.”

  Liv was surprised at the tone of his voice—persuasive, but not commanding, for a change.

  Bill’s mouth tightened. “I guess we can move them to one of the larger interrogation rooms. Get them something to eat. But before I release them, I want to know what else they aren’t saying. If they lied about the fish, no telling what they may be holding back.”