Murder Makes Wavesd

by Rose Pressey

  MURDER MAKES WAVES

  A Maggie, P.I. Mystery

  By Rose Pressey

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, places, and brands are the product of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Index

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 1

  I held the binoculars up to my eyes. Currently I was hiding inside a large evergreen bush across the street from an office building. The wife of the man working inside the building had hired me to see if he was cheating on her.

  “You’re going to get your pretty outfit dirty. Here, have a peppermint candy,” a female voice cracked from somewhere behind me.

  I jumped and tumbled backward out of the bush. My binoculars went sailing from my hand. Flat on my back, I gazed up at the brilliant blue sky. Not a single cloud today in Miami as the bright sunshine beat down on me. The warmth felt good on my skin. However, the pavement under my back kind of hurt.

  I groaned and said, “What are you doing here, Dorothy?”

  “Morty drove me.” My orthopedic-shoe-wearing assistant gestured with her giant white pocketbook.

  Morty smiled and gave a little wave. One black tube sock was up on his skinny leg while the other had fallen to his ankle. His khaki shorts hit just above his knobby knees and his beige palm-tree-print button-down shirt had purposely been left undone to the third button to, I assumed, reveal the few remaining gray chest hairs. A gold chain dangled around his neck.

  “How are the cataracts, Morty?” I asked as I sat up.

  “Much better, Maggie. Turns out the left eye wasn’t a cataract after all. It was macular degeneration.” He leaned against the driver’s door of the long gold Cadillac.

  “Perfect,” I said sarcastically. “The citizens of Dade County will feel much better about that diagnosis.”

  I’d lost my pink flip-flop when I’d landed on my back. Now I wore just one and the other shoe was on the ground next to me. I picked it up, slipped it back on my foot, and blew the hair out of my eyes. Dorothy said I had my uncle Griffin’s blue eyes, like the nearby sparkling ocean. That wasn’t the only thing that I’d inherited from my uncle. We had the same dark-colored hair and sense of humor. I hadn’t taken up his cigar smoking or whiskey drinking.

  The biggest thing I’d inherited from my uncle was his private investigating business. He had passed not long ago and left me everything, which wasn’t much: a small building not far from the beach—the sliver of an ocean view was a big plus—a couple of old metal file cabinets with cases dating back to the 1970s, a couple of desks and some ratty old chairs. But I wasn’t complaining. It helped me earn a small living.

  I was thankful every day that my uncle had been so thoughtful. Although I had to question his judgment in leaving me the business. I was certainly no Magnum P.I. Slowly though, I thought I was getting the hang of things. Even if I had Dorothy offering help in her own awkward, meddlesome way. Bless her heart.

  “Are you finished up here, dear?” Dorothy asked as she shifted the pocketbook to her other arm.

  “Well, I’m kind of in the middle of a case,” I said, pushing to my feet. “Remember, I’ve got to catch this guy cheating on his wife because then she’s filing for divorce. Then I can close the case and get paid. I like to eat occasionally so I need some money.”

  “You could stand to eat some more,” Dorothy said, eyeing me up and down.

  “I eat plenty,” I said, adjusting my binoculars. “You practically force-fed me that chocolate cupcake at bingo, remember?”

  My attendance at weekly bingo with Dorothy was a requirement. The event was held at the activity center in the retirement village where she lived. It was the highlight of the week. No, really, it was sadly the highlight of the week. I didn’t have much going on lately. My boyfriend Jake Jackson had been working long hours and we didn’t have a lot of time to spend together. Although maybe that made the hours we had together even sweeter. I still couldn’t believe that I actually called him my boyfriend. Some people would describe us as oil and water.

  “How much longer will it be?” Dorothy asked, ignoring my comment about the cupcake. “You promised that you would go with Morty and me to look at that condo.”

  Morty stared at me expectantly. Stray hairs from his balding head flapped with the wind.

  Dorothy had asked me to go with Morty and her to look at a condo. He was thinking of downsizing and selling his house. He wanted to buy a place by the beach. I had momentarily forgotten about our planned afternoon excursion. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Morty and Dorothy’s feelings and make them think that I hadn’t remembered.

  “I thought I had about thirty minutes before time to go,” I said.

  “No, ma’am. We have just a little bit of time to get over there. The real estate agent is meeting us.” Dorothy gestured.

  Movement caught my attention and I realized that my suspect was coming out of the location. I motioned for Dorothy and Morty to join me behind the sparse shrubbery so that the man wouldn’t notice that we were watching him. Dorothy and Morty hurried over—well, as fast as they could move. Dorothy had been taking a joint supplement. It seemed to be working okay, but Morty was having a bit of a hitch in his giddy-up. I held his arm and helped him down.

  Oddly enough, this wasn’t the first time that I’d hidden in bushes with Morty and Dorothy. We’d also battled alligators, sharks, surfboards, and not to mention a few lunatic killers.

  “I’m getting too old for this,” Dorothy said.

  I didn’t want to remind her that she was just the assistant and she didn’t have to hide in the bushes. But she didn’t want to let me do this stuff alone.

  “With my new hip,” Morty said, “I can bend down here just like a young pup.”

  Also, I wouldn’t tell Morty it was time to get that other hip replaced.

  “Okay, everybody quiet,” I whispered. “I don’t want that guy to hear us.”

  I lifted the camera up to my face and shoved the lens through the greenery. Pushing back a few more branches of the bush, I now had a clear view of the short gray-haired man. The clicking noise from my camera rang out as I snapped a couple of photos as he walked hand in hand with the tall blonde woman. They stopped on the sidewalk in front of the building. The couple embraced in a hug and then a passionate kiss as if no one was around.

  “Get a room,” Dorothy said.

  “I feel like we shouldn’t watch this,” Morty said.

  I snapped a f
ew more photos. “They shouldn’t do it on the sidewalk if they don’t want anyone to see.”

  This felt like easy money. A tinge of guilt overcame me for taking the wife’s payment when the man wasn’t even trying to hide his affection for his latest conquest.

  “Do you have everything you need now?” Dorothy whispered.

  “Not quite yet,” I said.

  “What else do you need? You caught there all-too-public make out session.” She checked the time on her small dainty gold wristwatch.

  I snapped more photos without answering her. As the rapid succession of clicks rang out, it sounded like the paparazzi following one of the Kardashians. I wanted to make sure I got as many photos as I could before the guy got away.

  At least the couple hadn’t spotted us in the bushes. One of these days I was going to get caught. I didn’t know what would happen then, but in the meantime, I’d just keep doing what I was doing. After all, the agency was all I had. Maybe I wasn’t the best private investigator in Miami, but I tried my best. Heck, I’d even solved a few murders. Not all private eyes could say that.

  When I’d taken over the business from my dearly departed uncle, I’d inherited his assistant Dorothy Raye. Now she was all mine, for better or worse. Her assisting skills were questionable. Her workday mostly consisted of knitting and crossword puzzles. Not to mention her odd obsession with peppermint candies. I found those things stashed everywhere. Once I’d even found one under my pillow. At home. I had no idea how she’d gotten into my apartment.

  I snapped a couple more photos when all of a sudden, the distinguished-looking man stopped kissing the gorgeous woman and peered around.

  “Uh-oh,” I said.

  “What?” Dorothy snapped. “Don’t say uh-oh.”

  “I think he might be on to me.”

  “Well, let’s get out of here.” Dorothy pulled on my arm. “I don’t have enough peppermint candies for this kind of stress. I’d need an entire truckload with the stress you put on me.”

  Again, I didn’t want to point out to Dorothy that she didn’t have to come along for this adventure. She should just stay and answer the phones at the office and then she wouldn’t know what kind of trouble I was getting into. Although the phone wasn’t exactly ringing off the hook.

  The guy stood there for a moment until finally his gaze traveled right over to the bushes. I pulled the camera lens out from the shrub. My breathing was heavy now. My heart rate went up.

  “I hope he doesn’t come over here. If he catches us in the bush, he’ll probably call the police,” I said.

  “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Though I think I can take that fellow on. He’s not that much younger than me.” Morty made a fist.

  Morty had a point about that. This guy was at least sixty-five years old. The woman with him looked like she was probably thirty. Thank goodness the man didn’t walk over to us, though I held my breath waiting for his next move.

  “Where do you think he’s going now?” Dorothy asked.

  The couple walked hand in hand over to the red Mercedes.

  “I guess they’re leaving,” I said.

  Once the man and woman climbed into the car and drove away, I helped Dorothy and Morty out from the bushes. Dorothy brushed off her clothing and smoothed down her gray hair. Morty tended to the few remaining hairs on his head, making sure they weren’t out of place.

  “All right, are you ready to go now?” Dorothy asked.

  “I suppose I can go now,” I said.

  There was no way they were letting me get out of this.

  “After all, you did say you would go,” Dorothy said with a wave of her finger.

  “Yes, I did promise, didn’t I?”

  That would teach me to keep my big mouth shut. Though I thought it was kind of sweet that Dorothy and Morty valued my opinion. I had no clue about real estate. I didn’t own property—well, other than the office. I was renting a tiny apartment that I called home. Both places were pretty good in my opinion. Sure, they were cramped, and I barely had space to turn around, but the miniscule beach views made them excellent. A million-dollar view? Nope. A quarter of a million? Maybe.

  I loved the beach. It was one of my favorite places to be. I tried to go as much as possible, although I had been pretty busy lately with cases. That was a good thing. At least they hadn’t been as dangerous as in the past. Almost as soon as I’d taken on my uncle’s company, I’d started getting crazy cases involving murders. But I’d had a bit of a break and that was a good thing. I hoped the calm continued. I liked the less dangerous things, although my detective boyfriend said I liked to live dangerously.

  Apparently, he based this opinion on the fact that I’d been hired to solve a few murder cases. Could I help it if I’d been dragged into crazy murder plots? If I was thrown into the situation then I’d definitely try to solve it. I certainly wouldn’t just toss my hands up and say I couldn’t do it. I was no quitter. It wasn’t that I wanted to be involved. It was just the way things had happened. He seemed to think that I attracted it. I didn’t know, maybe that was the case and I just couldn’t see it.

  My boyfriend was a detective with the Miami-Dade County Police Department. I guessed it was understandable that he didn’t want me involved in any kind of murder investigation. But since things had been quiet lately, he had nothing to worry about. I was pretty sure it would continue that way. My involvement in murder cases had been nothing but a fluke.

  “So how about I drive?” I said, trying to sound casual so that they wouldn’t catch the terror in my voice.

  The thought of Morty behind the wheel sent a shiver down my spine.

  “Are you sure?” Morty asked. “I know where I’m going.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. But I really didn’t want to get in the car with him.

  “It’s so cramped in your car,” Dorothy said.

  “There are only three of us,” I said.

  “Well, if you insist. But we are in a hurry,” she said with a giant wave of her hand.

  Dorothy seemed a bit stressed. Maybe she should take her own advice and have a peppermint candy. She was convinced that that candy helped any kind of stressful situation. Maybe it helped a bit. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, that peppermint taste in my mouth helped with the anxiety sometimes.

  Chapter 2

  We crammed into my tiny Ford Focus and I backed out of the parking lot. Dorothy shoved a peppermint candy at me. I took it without protest.

  “So, Morty, are you ready to move to the beach?” I asked.

  “I certainly hope so,” he said as he looked out from the back seat.

  Morty and Dorothy made such a cute couple. Dorothy still lived in the retirement village. I’d asked her if she was moving in with Morty and she said that she wasn’t ready to get married again and that she liked being independent and living on her own. I could appreciate that, but at some point, I knew I wanted to get married. Would it be to Jake? I wasn’t sure, but it looked as if it was going in that direction. That was unless Jake got sick of my profession and couldn’t deal with it anymore. That could certainly be the case as well. I got the impression he didn’t want me to do all this. However, I wouldn’t stop.

  I entered the address for the condo into my navigation. “We’ll be there soon.”

  “Are you sure you know where we are going?” Dorothy asked.

  “I entered the address you gave me,” I said.

  “146 Beach Street, right?” Dorothy raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s the one,” I said. “And we’re meeting the real estate agent there, right?”

  “Yes, her name is Jessica Combs. We were supposed to meet her at twelve o’clock,” Dorothy said with a click of her tongue.

  Dorothy had her big pocketbook perched on her lap. She’d probably been preparing for this meeting since yesterday. She hated being late.

  “We’ll be there in plenty of time,” I said, looking at the clock in the middle of the dashboard.

 
; Five till twelve. Yes, Dorothy was probably freaking out on the inside. I heard her sigh as we pulled up to a red light. If we were late how would I explain what had happened?

  “I don’t like to be late,” she said.

  “It’ll be fine, sweetie,” Morty said.

  After a couple tense minutes, I pulled into the parking lot for the large condo building. Twenty floors? It hurt my neck to look up that far. Sunshine bounced off the shimmering windows. Right now, I wished we were headed to the beach. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Maybe the condo had an amazing view. The place would surely cost a pretty penny. Morty seemed to have plenty of money though.

  After whipping the car into a parking space, we all hurried out. Dorothy had turned on her high-speed mode as she raced for the building. She had forty years on me and I still couldn’t keep up.

  “Are you supposed to meet her in the lobby or at the actual condo?” I asked. “Is there some kind of time limit?”

  “We’re supposed to go up to the condo,” Morty said.

  “She’s probably in the room right now,” Dorothy said as she rushed toward the entrance door.

  I followed along behind Morty and Dorothy. They held hands as they walked to the door. Had I mentioned what a cute couple they were? We stepped into the building’s main lobby. A sitting area to the right had stark white walls, tall palm plants, and sleek modern furniture.