“I believe that,” Lance said, “but truth is subjective. When trouble came her way, Estelle Bolz contacted River and so did Kale. River’s part of this by association, whether she wants to be or not.”
Pete shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. It wouldn’t take much for him to punch Lance. He shouldn’t hit anyone, but hitting a cop would be a disaster. I needed to defuse the situation. “I want justice for Estelle. Even if she led a double life, she didn’t deserve to be beaten to death. No one does.”
“The people who hurt her were sending a message,” Lance said. “Cross them and that’s what happens.”
I shook my head fast. “I don’t plan on crossing anyone.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. If they believe you know something, whether you do or not, they’ll come after you, and this guy, and your brother. This’d be a good time to take a vacation.”
“I’m not leaving. This is my home. I refuse to live in fear. If that’s the reason you stopped by, message received. You can go now.”
Lance gave a curt nod my way. “One more thing. Chili’s boat turned up again.”
“It did? I didn’t know it was missing. The dockmaster told me you took it into evidence.”
“Garnet lied. It was at the dock and then it wasn’t. A boater towed Reel Fine to Bayside Marina this morning. Said it was drifting in the sound. I’ve had a crew down there fingerprinting the boat, but most of the muddy prints aboard were made by raccoons.”
“Why would Garnet lie to me?” I asked.
“That’s a very good question,” Lance said. “I’ll ask it as soon as I find her.”
“She’s missing?”
“She isn’t at work or home, and her vehicle is gone.”
“What about her phone? Can you track it?” I asked.
“Thought of that too. Her calls roll to voicemail. Her phone is turned off. Wherever she is, she isn’t using her phone.”
“Did she get beat up or fake her death?” I asked.
Lance turned to go, glancing at me over his shoulder. “I think she did what the Bolz brothers did—got the heck out of Dodge.”
I stepped forward. “Is she part of it?”
“That remains to be seen. If you hear from her, let me know.”
We watched him stroll away and drive off. “Now that was darn interesting,” Pete said. “You didn’t tell him about finding Chili, and he warned you that your friendships signify guilt by association to others.”
“I’m not guilty.”
Pete sighed. “He’s right, you know. In the eyes of some, their truth is the only acceptable one.”
“He didn’t scare me, plus I can’t afford a vacation. I have a luncheon for the Ladies of Distinction tomorrow, and I should get started on that pan of vegetable lasagna right after I finish our lunch.”
“Sounds good to me, as long as we eat lasagna tonight.”
Nothing untoward happened over the next twenty-four hours. The Ladies of Distinction raved over my salad greens lightly dressed in my special lemon vinaigrette, and they darn near licked the pan of my veggie lasagna. The chocolate mint cookies were winners too. As Pete and I packed the empty warming trays and the empty tub of salad in the van, I noticed Pete looked at me in a different way.
Driving home, I couldn’t take the brooding silence. “Did I do something to offend you?”
He sighed out a breath. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Odd, because you flipped from a good mood to a dark place all of a sudden. Did you hurt your ankle again?”
“My ankle’s fine. My arm’s fine.”
“But we’re not fine, and I want to know why.”
Pete gazed out the window as we rolled past cottages, condos, and the elementary school. “I just had an epiphany.”
“About what?”
“About us. I don’t think…I mean, what if…What I’m trying to say is…Look, I nearly messed this up before. I can’t bear the thought of hurting you. What if I get all hepped up about another company?”
“Goodness. That’s a lot to put on me while I’m driving. Hang on a second.” I whipped down the short strip to the pier and parked. “Do you feel up to a walk?”
His face clouded but he nodded.
A strong wind snapped the nearby nautical flags as we exited the van. We strolled under the shelter, Pete looked more world weary with every step. Finally we reached our favorite bench and sat.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.
“You’re fine, and I’m fine, but it doesn’t seem like we’re fine,” I repeated. “What changed? I love you, Pete Merrick, and I want to know what’s bothering you.”
He stared glumly at the worn dock planks. “You’re good at your job.”
“So are you.”
“It’s not just the food, which is excellent, by the way. It’s the people. They’re so happy to see you, and they don’t want you to leave when the event is over. You can’t fake that kind of enthusiasm.”
“I don’t understand.” My brow furrowed, the confusion I felt went bone deep. “You expected me to be bad at catering?”
“Not bad, per se, but I assumed your occupation was mobile and impersonal. My sincere apologies. I totally misunderstood your business model. You provide much more than a meal. Your clients love you.”
“I’ve spent years building customer rapport. It’s the reason I had second thoughts about job hopping from place to place.”
“I heard you say that, yes, but I didn’t understand until I went on today’s catering job with you. My assumptions were wrong. I had our future mapped out, and now the map isn’t relevant. I’ve always been the answer man. I made things happen, only now I’m struggling for answers.”
“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out as we go. I have faith in us.”
“I’ve walked in your shoes now,” Pete said, “and I’ll never take you or your business for granted again.”
“Thank you.” I took his hand in mine, blinking away the moisture in my eyes. “I appreciate the recognition.”
“Let’s go home.” He squeezed my hand. “I’d rather show you how I feel than talk about my feelings.”
I rose. “Yes.”
We strolled down the pier, side by side. “About the case,” Pete began, “I have an idea. Soon as it’s good and dark, I’m heading to Bayside to take a peek at the marina security feed.”
“Now we’re talking. I’ll join you, partner.”
Chapter Forty-One
A single light glowed in the empty parking lot, along with muted footlights on the marina jetties. Though it was a mild night in the sixties, I shivered as I parked behind the marina office.
“Stay in the van,” Pete said. “I won’t be long.”
“Forget it.” He spoke as if he could run a marathon, but I knew better. Still, any mention of his physical limitations would make things worse. I huffed out a breath of frustration. “I’m not staying behind. We’re partners. Besides while you copy the camera feed, I can search for other information.”
“If we’re caught here, you’ll have more than the perception of guilt going against you.”
“We’re in this together. I need answers.”
“All right, but I’ll go first. We’ll get in and out as quick as possible.”
We eased from the van into the starlit night, and the briny salt marsh scent on the back side of the island filled my head. My heart thumped in my ears as we crept toward the door. Pete tried the knob and the door swung open.
As we entered, the hair on the back of my neck rose and I felt tingly all over. “Pete, I’ve got a bad feeling.”
“Me too.” He edged forward guided by starlight behind us, heading for the office, and tripped.
I steadied him, suddenly finding my footing uneven too. “What’s wrong with the floo
r?”
Pete flicked on his cell phone flashlight. Chaos met my gaze in every direction. “It looks like a grenade went off in here.”
“Someone tossed this place.” He shone his light over the sales counter. “Cash register is missing.” I tagged after him to the office. His light illuminated the desk. “Computer is gone too. No chance of us getting a copy of the camera feed.”
I picked up a few of the scattered pages, wishing I’d brought my cell inside. “What are all these papers?”
Pete shone his light my way and glanced over my shoulder. “Invoices.”
I dropped the papers. “I’m worried for Garnet. If someone tossed this place, she’s not one of them.”
“Unless she double-crossed them. With all those dock cameras, she had to know about the money laundering. If she wasn’t part of it, maybe she blackmailed someone. One thing’s for sure, she’s not here.”
“I wish we could find something to help us figure this out. Seems like every lead we follow is a dead end.”
Pete scanned the room with his light. “You see something?” I asked.
“A whole lot of nothing,” he said, urging me toward the door.
Pete paused halfway to the van. “I need another minute.”
I hurried to sit in the driver’s seat. Pete’s door opened abruptly. He slid in, setting an object on the floorboard. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”
I cranked the engine and eased out the back way. It was rutted, not more than a dirt track really. “Where does this go?”
“Out of here. That’s all we need to know.”
“So, this was a bust. No Garnet and no video surveillance.”
He grinned and hefted the item from the floorboard. “Didn’t say that.”
“What’d you get?”
“A state-of-the-art video camera.”
“That gizmo? It doesn’t look like much.”
“Precisely. I would’ve passed it by if not for my recent experience with surveillance equipment. This camera is our trump card. Whoever installed this puppy didn’t expect anyone to find it. This unit wasn’t connected to the batch camera feed. It stores images on a SD card inside.”
My brows shot up. “We’ll see who did this?”
“We’ll see who came and went in front of this camera.”
Chapter Forty-Two
We raced home to view the camera feed. Pete fired up his computer on the kitchen table, and I stood behind him, watching over his shoulder.
The camera’s field of vision included a side angle of the parking lot and a view of anyone who stepped off the dock into the parking area. “Interesting,” I said, gazing at the still photo on his laptop. “This wasn’t set up to see traffic to the shop. This is all about the dock. What on earth?”
“I presume the other security cameras covered the shop and office. This camera was an afterthought. Someone got cold feet about current events and filmed the dock activity for protection.”
“Or blackmail.” I sat and drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “Maybe Garnet suspected her dock was being used for illegal purposes. She allowed the activity to occur, or maybe she was forced to allow it. They might’ve even paid her to look the other way. She could’ve gotten greedy and wanted more, hence the hidden camera.”
“If blackmail was Garnet’s motive, she had to know the odds of that working out for her weren’t good. If she went after the mob, they would retaliate. They’d leave a bloody mess as a warning to anyone who dared to cross them because that’s what happened to Estelle. We’re dealing with someone else here.”
“Who?”
“Once we see who stars on this video, we’ll know if my hunch is correct.”
My hackles rose. “You’re not still thinking Lance, are you?”
“Whoever it is, I want to stop these thugs, and I want you as far from these people as possible.”
He wouldn’t meet my gaze. He was thinking Lance did this. “He’s a cop. Sworn to uphold the law. He helped me with catering jobs.”
“He insinuated himself into your business. He flattered you about your personal connections in the community so he’d know if you found anything about Chili. He isn’t a friend, whether he’s guilty of a crime or not.”
“You believe I have a blind spot when it comes to Deputy Lance Hamlyn. You have an even stronger bias against him.”
“It isn’t personal. I have a strong bias against everyone until they gain my trust.”
That admission stopped me. Floored me. “How do you live with those suspicions clouding your every thought, word, and deed? Isn’t it hard surrounding yourself with negativity?”
“It’s how I’ve survived this past year. Seems like you’d be grateful I’m alive instead of the other way around.” He studied me with inscrutable eyes. “Why do you always stand up for Lance?”
“I love you, Pete, and I want so much for you, for us. Lance has been helpful in my business and in searching for Chili, so I trust him. I believe in the goodness of people.”
“I don’t trust the deputy, but it doesn’t matter what we think. These images will tell the tale.” Pete returned to scanning the file. The fuzzy image on the screen flickered. Pete reversed the feed to see the captured image. He made a note on a pad of paper. “What did you write?” I asked.
He slid the pad around to show me. “I made a note of the date, time, and description of the person.”
My gaze stopped on the date. “That’s two weeks ago. Before Chili vanished. Before Estelle died.”
“Given the small size of this memory card and the length of time involved between visitors, it seems logical this marina is indeed a front for something. But for what? Is it money laundering or more than that?”
“Like what?”
“Guns or drugs as you previously suggested. Illegal immigration. Human trafficking.”
I couldn’t stomach the last two, not that guns or drug trafficking were any better. “Oh, let’s hope not.”
He didn’t wait for a reply and continued viewing the feed at top speed. Chili was not in any of the frames. A stocky woman appeared multiple times. Going by the familiar-looking flannel shirt, it was Garnet. A man of average height appeared multiple times, sometimes in uniform. I got a sick feeling in my gut.
In one frame in which the uniform was in focus, the man’s identity became certain. “We know this person,” Pete said.
“I see Deputy Lance Hamlyn, same as you. His presence on the dock could mean any number of things. He investigated Chili’s disappearance. Chili’s boat went missing. It makes sense that he was on the dock looking into the matter.”
“Could be,” Pete admitted.
I searched the frozen frame of Lance on the screen. With his sunglasses on, I couldn’t read his expression. “His hands are empty,” I blurted out. “He isn’t carrying the missing money.”
Pete advanced to the next captured image. This time it was the dockmaster. “Neither is Garnet. Everyone is walking around emptyhanded. Doesn’t mean they’re innocent.”
“Doesn’t mean they’re guilty either.” More pics streamed past. A person flashed in one. “Hold up.”
“You see something?” he asked.
“Yeah. Garnet went out on the dock. I didn’t see her come back on the camera feed.”
“Good point.” Pete clicked backward through the images. “She walked down there two days ago, and she didn’t return the same day or the next. Seems like someone would’ve noticed the office being closed.” He clicked through the rest of the saved images. One was of a stranger carrying fishing gear to a boat and later returning with a mess of fish. Lance showed up twice more. The last image was of Pete approaching the camera.
“Garnet left Bayside Marina by boat most likely, if she’s alive,” Pete said. “Maybe she took a boat out to meet someone.”
“You think
she’s dead?” I asked. “Wouldn’t a body have turned up by now?”
“Not if she was weighted down or dumped offshore.”
I retreated. “This is crazy. This kind of thing doesn’t happen on Shell Island.”
“Things change when the mob shows up.”
“She could’ve boated to another marina or a private dock. She could’ve gone into hiding, same as Chili.”
“Perhaps, but it feels like someone tying up loose ends,” Pete said. “Whatever happened at the marina, Garnet had a bird’s eye view from the office. Even if she didn’t physically see people coming and going from the marina, the cameras did. With Kale Bolz faking his death six months ago, this money laundering has been going on at least that long, possibly for years as Chili indicated. How long has Deputy Hamlyn been on the island?”
“I’m not sure. I wasn’t aware of him until he arrested Doug for stealing the sheriff’s vehicle. He’s been here at least three months.”
“We know he has no social media presence, nor does he have online mentions. Who is this guy and why is he here?”
A reason popped into my head. “Maybe he’s working undercover and Lance Hamlyn is a fake name.”
“Are you still cooking up excuses for him?”
His accusation pushed my hot button and I rose. “This isn’t about me sticking up for Lance. I provided a plausible answer to your questions.”
“You did. I’m sorry I snapped at you. Seems like we trip over Hamlyn any way we go. I don’t like how he inserted himself in your life.”
I wrangled my emotions under control and sat down. “Noted.”
“Where were we?”
He’d made a concession. So could I. “Based on the hidden camera photos and Garnet’s disappearance, I’ve changed my mind. The images suggest Lance and Garnet are involved. If not, then one of them is likely the killer and the other is a victim. Seeing as how Lance is strutting about town and Garnet is not, the future looks bleak for the dockmaster.”
He nodded his agreement.
SEAS THE DAY Page 22