SEAS THE DAY

by Maggie Toussaint

  “If I knew where that million dollars was, I’d give it back. But I don’t know who ripped it off. I wish Mama had never agreed to wash that money.”

  “We can’t change the past. We have to figure out how to proceed. With a Ferarrelli still on the island, it isn’t safe for you to come out of hiding. What are you doing for food, water, and shelter?”

  “I’ve found all three from time to time. I’m getting along fine.”

  He didn’t look fine to me, but he was mobile and his mind sounded clear. “How can I reach you again?”

  He thought for a long moment. “Use Uncle Jay for now. Kale trusts him and so do I.”

  “Is he really your uncle?”

  “Not blood kin, but he woulda married Mama if she’d said yes. Our natural father is mean as a cottonmouth, and she spent her adult life hiding from him. Couldn’t get divorced or he’d find out where we were.”

  “With the internet, couldn’t he search for your names?”

  “She changed our names, but it was so long ago they feel like ours now.”

  If this was my only chance to ask for information, I had to be proactive. “Something’s fishy about the dockmaster and Justin, your hunting buddy. Garnet is encouraging us to steer clear of the marina, and Justin Adler is downright spooked by everything. He’s gone to ground too. We almost didn’t find him to ask about your hunting blinds. That was before we found the GPS numbers under the bridge. How’d you come up with that clue?”

  “It’s an old clue. A long time ago, Uncle Jay used to leave them for Kale and me to figure out. He showed us how to get the coordinates on our phones.”

  Made sense. I dug in my pocket and handed him the rusted mint tin. “Here’s a treasure for you. The box of secrets.”

  Chili pushed it back. “Keep it. Gotta be light on my feet these days.”

  “It’s for luck, and it barely weighs anything.”

  Emotions flickered over his face until he reached for it. “All right, L’il Sis. I’ll take it. I guess you’re entitled to answers. What do you want to know?”

  “Are Garnet and Justin dirty?”

  He tucked the tin in his shirt pocket and shrugged. “Don’t know. Sealed five-gallon buckets of money would appear overnight in my boat. I hauled the buckets to Mama’s back door. Kale deposited the money in regional banks. Everything worked fine until it didn’t.”

  “Garnet has cameras all over that dock,” Pete said. “You ever break in the office to watch the video feed or spy on your boat to see who left the money?”

  “Didn’t want to know. I tried to make a decent living for me and Mama with my charter business. I did okay, but it was never enough to pay the bills. We needed the extra income from Mama’s laundry business, which is what she called the money laundering for the Ferarrelli cartel.”

  “What about Justin?” I asked, needing more answers, regardless of the risk.

  “Kale told him about the threat to cut off all his digits. Spooked the hell out of Justin. He didn’t come around after that. A real fair-weather friend. Haven’t spoken to him in six months. Not since before Kale died at sea, or I should say, faked his death at sea. Took you a while to walk all this way. You should head back now.”

  “It feels wrong to leave you alone out here. Though I am very thankful you’re alive.”

  “I’m alive and now that I can range farther, I’ll solve my problem. Thanks for the energy bars and the water. I won’t have to hunt for tonight’s supper.”

  “Someone took your boat,” I said. “Garnet said Deputy Hamlyn towed it away as evidence.”

  “Trust no one,” Chili said, rising and shuffling away.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Finding Chili and then watching him melt into the woods hurt my heart. I wanted him to get his life back, but it wasn’t that simple. A stolen million dollars had cost his mother’s life.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Pete said as I drove home.

  “Not sure they’re worth even a cent,” I grumbled. “We did what we set out to do, find Chili, but it changed nothing. Now I feel worse because I can’t help him.”

  “You aren’t responsible for fixing Chili’s problems. He’s a grown man, a man that had a choice to say no to money laundering.”

  “I’m not sure about that. Chili would do anything for his mom. Once she was involved, he would’ve helped her, no questions asked.”

  “They worked for the mob,” Pete reminded. “Let’s not forget that key point.”

  I negotiated the last traffic circle. “I get that, I do, but—”

  “But nothing. A lot of money is missing. One person is dead, two more fear for their lives. This isn’t your problem. Promise me you’ll let it go.”

  My grip on the wheel tightened until my knuckles stood out in stark relief. “I can’t do that. Chili’s in big trouble. I have to help him.”

  “Bad idea. The people who are after Chili and Kale don’t value human life. People are objects to them, tools to achieve an end. Killing is their way of life because if they aren’t useful to their bosses they get killed.”

  “People matter. My friends matter.”

  “Think about what you’re doing. You’re drawing attention to yourself from the wrong element.” Pete shifted in his seat to face me. “These people, they’ll twist your loyalty and use it against you. They’ll come after your business and destroy your reputation. I experienced that firsthand in California. Ultimately, I walked away. Our future mattered more than my principles or my net worth. I have to know, given your intense loyalty to your friend Chili, does my walking away from the California bad guys make me a coward in your eyes?”

  “It makes you smart,” I said. “You didn’t have a chance. The deck was stacked against you from the beginning. This situation with the Bolz family is different. I know how Chili and Kale think, and why they broke the law. With their mother gone, they’ll have a chance to make their own way, without being encumbered by Estelle’s poor choices.”

  Pete shook his head, his lips curved into a wry smile. “You could sell ice to Eskimos. You sugar coated my situation and Chili’s so that we were victimized by others.”

  I shot him a cool look. “Weren’t you?”

  Pete gazed out the window at the golf course we were passing. “I wanted to hang the moon for you. Yet, I crawled home, wounded in body and spirit, and you welcomed me with open arms. I’m not that rising superstar any longer. I’m broken and poor.”

  “You’ll make your mark on the world again. It’s in your nature, Pete.”

  “Darn right I’ll get it back.”

  We rode the rest of the way in silence, each ruminating on our own thoughts. Another woman might reconsider engagement to a man who’d lost everything, but Pete was the man for me. I’d learned that truth this year. I wanted to bear his children. Hearing him say he would start over proved his spirit was healing.

  Now, if I could just figure out who stole that missing money. I hadn’t seen anyone flashing cash at the bars the other night, no pricey cars that someone suddenly acquired, no mysterious relative that bequeathed someone a fortune. However, I wasn’t tuned into the local scene enough to have a long-term appreciation of people’s financial situation, but I knew who was.

  Vivian Declan.

  I’d call her right after I got an ice pack on Pete’s ankle. It must be throbbing after hiking through the woods. And then I’d take a shower. Couldn’t forget that.

  The black cat sat on my front steps when I pulled into the drive. He yowled and paced when he saw me, his tail held high. “What’s up with Major?” I wondered aloud.

  “Who?” Pete glanced at the steps. “Oh, the cat. He’s wound up and not scampering off. Odd. I didn’t think he liked me.”

  “He doesn’t know you yet. He barely knows me. But he has an agenda, though I have no idea what it is.”


  Pete watched the cat for a few more seconds, then he focused on me. “You carry any weapons in the van?”

  “Weapons? What on earth for?”

  “The cat is agitated enough to overcome his sense of self-preservation. He isn’t running away. He recognizes your van, and he’s letting you know he’s upset. Given what we know about the dangerous people after the Bolz family, we should heed the warning.”

  “You got all that from the cat pacing on the front steps?”

  “He ever done that before?”

  “Well, no.”

  Realization dawned like a rogue beach wave. Something was wrong here. Pete and the cat warned of danger. I could argue that my locked house was secure, or I could pay attention.

  I trusted Pete and the cat.

  I needed to heed the warning. “Okay, I believe you.”

  “Good. Back to my question,” Pete said. “What kind of weapons you got in here?”

  “There’s a pocketknife in the glove box and my roll of chef knives in the back. That’s it. I have guns in the house that I inherited from my parents, but I don’t keep them in the van.”

  “If you’re hellbent on finding stolen money, carry a handgun. Your opponents have guns.”

  “I haven’t shot the pistol or the rifle since I was a kid.”

  “We’ll fix that. Meanwhile, you mentioned chef knives. I need one.”

  “How will you manage a knife with an arm in a sling and the cane?”

  “Screw the cane. If someone’s in your place, we need to defend ourselves.”

  The blood drained from my face. “I can’t stab someone.”

  “You could if he’s trying to kill you.”

  “All right. I’ll get my knife set.” I clambered over the seat and brought the roll of knives forward. “Which one do you want?”

  “They’re all sharp?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He pointed to the eight-inch chef’s knife, the longest blade. “Then I want that one.”

  I gave it to him and selected the meat cleaver for myself.

  He shook his head. “Better if you take a smaller knife you can palm. If bad guys are inside waiting to get the drop on us, the element of surprise will help you survive.”

  I exchanged my choice for a paring knife. “I should go first.”

  “Think again. I’m not a hundred percent, but I’m highly motivated to protect my future fiancée.”

  “Okay, but only if you use the cane to mount the steps. I’ll unlock the door and you can enter first with your big knife.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  The cat vaulted off the steps when we emerged from the van, yowling from the azaleas. If bad guys were inside, they had plenty of notice we were coming. I walked beside Pete, carrying both knives and my keys, my pulse skittering like water beads in a hot skillet.

  We made it up the steps, trying to be as quiet as possible, but every footfall thundered in my ears. Pete propped his cane against the house, palmed the knife in his good hand, and nodded.

  I went to unlock the door, but it swung open as I pushed the key in the lock. Pete brushed me aside and entered, a fierce expression on his face. I followed and stopped immediately.

  The lamp lay on the floor, sofa cushions were upended, throw pillows slashed. Books littered the floor along with my unpaid bills. Every cabinet door gaped wide. What few paintings I’d inherited with the house lay akimbo on the floor.

  The cat darted past me, straight through the living room to the kitchen and out the open back door. “Major!” I yelped, following the cat. “Come back.”

  “Dammit, River,” Pete said. “Let me go first.”

  Recklessly, I ran ahead and halted on the back porch. Pete limped up beside me. Through the woods, I heard a motor crank. “The intruder is getting away,” I said. “I’m calling the cops. Maybe they can catch ’em.”

  After I dialed the emergency number and Pete verified the house was indeed empty, we sat on the reassembled sectional sofa, Pete’s ankle propped up and iced. Quickly, I returned the knives to my van and changed out of my muddy shirt, hiding it in the other dirty clothes in the washer.

  Two patrol cars showed up. I recognized both deputies, Gil Franklin and Lance Hamlyn. “Y’all can’t be in here,” Lance said, shaking his gloved finger at us. “We have to process the house.”

  “Go right ahead.” I gestured broadly. “We live here and you can exclude us from any samples you take. After our afternoon walk, Pete needs to ice his ankle.”

  Franklin looked unprepared for collecting evidence because his hands were ungloved. Both deputies charged through the house, guns drawn, and then returned.

  “No one’s here,” Lance said.

  “We figured that part out,” I said. “Someone came in here, through my locked door, mind you, and vandalized my belongings. Why?”

  Franklin pulled out a notepad and pen. “Is anything missing?”

  “Not that I saw,” I said. “Who pays for the broken dishes and the slashed cushions?”

  “Homeowners insurance may cover costs, but there’s often a deductible.” Franklin looked like he’d swallowed a cactus. “We’ll take your statement and check entry points for prints. Does anyone have a grudge against you?”

  “No one.” I barred my arms across my chest. Anger and fear made my stomach queasy. I would not cry. Whoever did this wouldn’t beat me. “No one’s mad at me.”

  “She gives cookies to everyone she sees,” Pete pointed out. “How could anyone be upset with River?”

  “You must’ve riled someone with your questions about Chili,” Lance said in a dismissive tone. “I warned you this would happen.”

  His smugness irritated me further. “You said it might happen. I haven’t asked questions about Chili in days. I’ve given up on searching for him.”

  “Good. Maybe this was a warning,” Lance said. “You’ll be safer if you stay away from the Bolz brothers.”

  “Any other housebreakings on the island?” Pete asked matter-of-factly.

  “Just this one.” Franklin handed me a form. “Fill this statement out and sign it. I’ll file it and we’ll have a record of your incident.”

  Lance’s phone rang. He stepped outside to answer, then stuck his head in a few minutes later. “Another call. I need to respond.” He nodded to Franklin. “You good here?”

  Franklin nodded. “I got this.”

  While Pete and I collaborated on the statement, Franklin donned gloves and checked for fingerprints on both doors, the lamp, and the paintings. Pete and I were printed for exclusion fingerprints, but Franklin used a kit from his car, so we didn’t have to go to the station.

  Finally, Pete and I were alone again. I looked at the mess, and the trembling in my stomach intensified. Someone entered my home, touched my things. Someone violated my privacy.

  Did they think I was hiding a million dollars in my home?

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Cleanup on aisle four and five and six…My thoughts darted everywhere as I picked up the mess, threw out the broken items, and tidied my home. Pete tried to help, but his ankle and his bum arm limited his usefulness. Nothing I said made him sit down and rest. Finally, the living room, kitchen, and guest bath were in order. I darted back to the bedroom, scooped up my clean clothes that’d been thrown on the floor, and got them running through the washer, along with the muddy yellow blouse.

  “Sit,” I said when I walked back in. “I’m certainly gonna.”

  “This day put a new spin on the case,” Pete said, placing the remaining throw pillows around him on the sectional and propping up his arm and leg.

  I rested both aching feet on the coffee table. “How so?”

  “We learned Chili is alive and scared. A million dollars is missing. Someone tossed your house. And last but not least, you lied to th
e police.”

  “I did not lie. Every word I spoke was the truth.”

  “Unlike the cops, I understand why you’re no longer looking for Chili. Keeping silent about finding him and knowing about the missing money are lies of omission.”

  I covered a yawn with my hand. “Only if you want to get all technical about it.”

  “Why did you make that choice?”

  How quickly the mighty oaks toppled, I thought. My response had been automatic, and if challenged, I’d do it again. I didn’t consider myself above the law, but I’d reached the point where I trusted very few people. Lance Hamlyn and Gil Franklin didn’t make the cut, even if they were cops.

  “My loyalty is to Chili,” I began slowly. “I don’t want mob guys to kill him. We need to figure this out. We believe something is up with dockmaster Garnet Pierce and with Chili’s hunting friend, Justin Adler. Chili didn’t deny their involvement.”

  Pete met my level gaze. “He didn’t confirm it either. I recall him saying Justin was a fair-weather friend. That’s different from someone who tried to kill you or stole a million dollars.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that money all afternoon. Seems like someone would’ve spent the money, and there’d be tangible evidence of new wealth.”

  “Unless they were too smart to do that,” Pete countered.

  “Smart. There’s evidence of brain and brawn throughout this case. Chili left two messages to tell his mother where he was. That took guts. Chili knows who beat him up, and he thinks it’s the same person who beat his mother to death. Someone broke in here without leaving a trace on the doors or windows, and then made a huge mess.”

  “We’re lucky we weren’t home. Good chance we’d be more busted up if we encountered the killer.”

  I recoiled instinctively, and my head bounced off the sofa, adding to my disorientation. “You think the killer broke in my place?”

  “Follow my logic. The mob laundered money on the island. They recruited several locals, namely Chili, Kale, and Estelle Bolz. It didn’t end well, and the menace is still on Shell Island, as evidenced by our break-in. We locked this house when we left, which means the lock was picked. Which in turn implies a more serious bad guy. The path of reason circles back to the stolen money in my mind, so yes, I believe the killer tossed this place.”