Sea, Sky & Skeleton

by Carolyn L. Dean

  SEA, SKY, and SKELETON: A Ravenwood Cove Mystery (book 4)

  By Carolyn L. Dean

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  SEA, SKY, and SKELETON is copyright 2017 by Carolyn L. Dean. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  DEDICATION

  To the friends who are also family to me. You have made me a better person in more ways than I can count.

  Contents

  Preview:

  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

  AUTHOR NOTES:

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR – Carolyn L. Dean

  TRUMAN’S HERITAGE FUDGE RECIPE

  Preview:

  After about fifteen minutes in the constant wind, Amanda’s ears were starting to get cold. She was almost to the end of the curved beach that made up the cove, when something stuck in the rocks caught her eye. The small bay didn’t get battered by the open ocean as much as some beaches because of a protective peninsula of boulders, but it wasn’t unusual to see seaweed or other things float in and wind up on the beach.

  Walking closer, Amanda could see it was a sheet of black plastic, wadded up tightly and about the size of a football. She was used to picking up a few pieces of trash whenever she was at the beach, so she pulled a small grocery bag out of her coat pocket and stooped over to grab the litter. To her surprise, the object was heavy and solid, and she could see the plastic sheet had been wrapped around something and tied with black plastic twine. Pulling it free of the suction from the gray sand, she let the seawater drain a bit. She could feel the nearly-square contents, and flipped it over to see if there was a knot so she could untie and open the package.

  Horror. Absolute horror.

  Amanda could feel the world lurch around her as she looked down on what was attached to the package’s black bindings.

  Chapter 1

  “You’ll have to close the Ravenwood Inn.”

  Amanda’s mouth dropped open at her contractor’s statement. “Close the Inn? Isn’t there some other way?”

  Roy Greeley shook his head, wiping his dirty hands on a shop towel. “Not if you don’t want guests someday breaking through a stair and then falling into your basement. Look, it’s just temporary. If we’re going to repair the main staircase so it’s safe for people, it’ll take at least a week to get everything ripped up and put in the new supports.” His voice was firm. He suddenly grabbed a large screwdriver and jammed it into the side of the wall under the staircase. Amanda had to nearly bite her tongue to instinctively stop him from damaging the wood, but as soon as he wiggled the tool a bit she could see what he was trying to show her. Bits of old lumber splintered away easily from the hole he’d made, far too easily for such hard wood.

  “It’s got some dry rot, and all those people going up and down for so long have weakened the entire structure. It’s got to be redone right, like it was when it was built the first time.” He set the screwdriver on the curved banister. “Back then they built things to last, and I want to be sure I fix this so it’ll be around for another hundred years.” Noticing how worried Amanda looked, he tried to reassure her. “I promise I’ll use as much of the original wood as I can, and everything will be stained to match. No one will even know it’s been repaired.”

  Amanda set her hand gently on the old railing, its satiny wood polished by decades of trailing hands. The dark curve of the central staircase felt like the heart of the entire Ravenwood Inn, and the thought of closing for repairs was unexpected and unwelcome. Roy followed Amanda from the main foyer into the parlor, and Amanda plopped down on a sofa, next to her huge orange cat, Oscar. She knew Roy had taken great pride in everything he’d done so far, restoring her historic bed and breakfast to its original glory. She also knew that he’d do a great job on this project, but the thought of closing the Ravenwood Inn was sobering. The expenses of refurbishing one of the oldest buildings in Ravenwood Cove were daunting, no matter how much she loved the place. She’d just had the roof repaired after a December windstorm had swept through town, and that had drained her bank account. Fixing the main staircase was a necessity to keep the Inn running, but the thought of shelling out more cash, especially during the lean winter months, made her stomach hurt.

  “I guess you’re right. I can’t exactly have paying guests using the narrow servant stairs to get up to their rooms, can I?” She sighed and absent-mindedly stroked Oscar, who purred happily and crawled into her lap. “How much is this going to cost me?”

  From his grimace, she knew Roy’s next sentence wasn’t going to make her happy. He gestured at Oscar. “You may have to sell that cat.”

  Seeing the twinkle in his eye, Amanda couldn’t help but laugh. “Over my dead body. He’s on staff as the Inn’s official greeter.” She scratched Oscar under the chin and the big orange cat closed his eyes in satisfied bliss. “I pay him with tuna. How about I sell you a really obnoxious rooster instead?”

  “You mean Dumb Cluck?” Roy shook his head. “No way. The first time he’d crow at four in the morning I’d want to eat him, and that old guy’d be tough as a leather boot, even if I used a whole bottle of ketchup.”

  By the time Roy had brought a yellow notepad and a calculator into the kitchen so they could talk numbers, Amanda was already hatching a new plan. When her contractor was done figuring out materials and labor costs he showed her the grand total. Amanda gulped but she wasn’t surprised, and she quickly made a counter proposal.

  “Roy, I hate to admit it, but I have to do this on a budget. Isn’t there a way I can do some of the work myself so I can save a few bucks?”

  She could see Roy considering what she’d said as he toyed with his pencil on the paper. “Well, I could show you how to rip out the problem areas and set aside the old wood so it can be copied for the new treads. I’d use bits of blue tape to tag the ones that I’d want you to remove. Do you think you’re up to doing some of the demolition work for me? It would definitely save you some cash.”

  Amanda grinned, relieved. She wasn’t afraid of hard work and the first thing she’d ever done to the previously-abandoned Inn had been to take a crowbar and pry off the wooden boards nailed over the windows. “I could definitely do that. Just show me what you want me to do.” She shook his rough hand, sealing their deal. “Can you start on it right away? I actually just had a group of guests cancel this morning and my winter business is slow, so I have six days with no one staying here.”

  “I’ll be back at eight tomorrow.” Roy picked up his notepad and smiled. “I’ve got a hot date tonight so I’ve got to hit the road. Find your best crowbar and heavy-duty work gloves, and be prepared to get dirty. You’d be surprised how much grime and dust works through the wood under an old staircase.”

  Amanda watched Roy stash the notebook in his green canvas bag. He called it his office-on-the-go, and it seemed to travel everywhere with him. “I’ve dealt with dirt before. No problem,” sh
e told the middle-aged contractor, and then she couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “So, who’s the hot date? Am I allowed to tell your wife about it?”

  Roy gave a snort of feigned disgust. “It’s with my wife, silly. We’re staying home tonight so we can go through all the seed catalogues she’s gotten in the mail lately. Can you believe she wants to expand our garden again?” He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Every year it’s the same thing; all my kitchen counters and tables covered with trays of seedlings. I’ll probably have to transplant ‘em all in the rain again, just like last time.” He straightened up and winked at her. “Yeah, very sexy date, let me tell ya.”

  Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle. She knew Roy Greeley was hopelessly in love with his wife Nancy and to be honest, Amanda was almost a bit jealous of how the two of them seemed to orbit around each other as best friends and partners in life. “Tell her I said hello.”

  Roy pulled out his car keys. “I will. Hey, what’s this I hear about Lisa not being back in town yet? I thought she was just going back East for a few days to pick up some relative of hers?”

  It was a touchy subject, and Amanda paused for a moment while she quickly decided how much she could divulge and not betray Lisa’s confidence. It had been over a week since Lisa had unexpectedly stopped by the Inn, flustered and out of breath, to ask if Amanda could take care of her three kittens while she went to pick up her nephew, Sage. Maybe it was her years of being a reporter for the local newspaper that made Lisa so unflappable, but that day she was the most upset Amanda had ever seen. The way Lisa had described the situation, if she didn’t take guardianship of her nephew, he’d be heading to a foster home. Her sister had struggled with addiction for years and Sage had practically raised himself, but now that he was older his behavior was getting wilder and the law was getting involved. When he stopped going to school the authorities noticed and Lisa got called.

  “Her nephew’s going to come live with her for a bit while his family sort some things out at home. Lisa should be back in town in a day or so.”

  Even though she’d tried to keep her voice carefully neutral, she could see a spark of recognition on Roy’s face.

  “Nephew’s a teenager?”

  “Yes,” she said, and Roy nodded in understanding.

  “Sometimes a change of environment is the best thing for a young guy. Kind of shakes them up a bit. Different rules, different friends…” his voice trailed off. “Well, I’d better be going. I’ve got about eight pounds of seed catalogs calling my name back home, and I’d hate to make my hot date wait.”

  Chapter 2

  Years ago, someone had invented the phrase ‘rolling the sidewalks up early’ to explain how some towns closed down in the evening. Ravenwood Cove definitely fit that description. With the exception of Heinrich’s Pizzeria and Ivy’s Café, most of the store owners liked to close their businesses around six o’clock, so as soon as Amanda realized that she couldn’t find her heavy-duty work gloves, she grabbed her coat and purse to head to Main Street while the stores were still open.

  There was only one place in town that she’d even consider visiting for an errand like this, and she was glad to see Petrie’s General Store was still open. Stepping out of her car into the brisk air, she was relieved the Oregon winter rain had given way to several days of bright sunshine. This time of year on the Oregon coast could be gray and drizzly, so any break in the late winter weather was welcome.

  The main street of her adopted hometown was one of her favorite places in the world. Small shops lined both sides, with large display windows and antique-style lampposts at the edge of the sidewalks. Amanda had been in town less than a year, and she already knew almost everyone on this street, and all about their stores. She knew that Mrs. Mason would be cleaning the saltwater taffy machine at the Bake Me Happy bakery and candy store, and would be coming out any minute to water the large pots of flowers by the front door. She could see Ruby, the waitress at Ivy’s Café, supervising the Hortman brothers as they installed a new green awning over the shop’s entrance. Across the street, Truman was putting the final touches on this week’s bookstore display. He was balanced on a wooden stepstool and taping up a large sign that said OUT OF THIS WORLD AUTHORS WHO KILLED THEMSELVES. What he lacked in tact he made up for in style, and Amanda grinned when she saw that he’d apparently chosen green as this week’s hair color. Catching a whiff of roasted garlic and hot dough wafting from up the street, she mentally added an extra stop to her errand list, unable to resist Heinrich’s luscious hand-tossed pizza for dinner.

  When Amanda caught a glimpse of her favorite 90-year-old friend through the window of Petrie’s General Store, she smiled. Just seeing Mrs. Granger chatting animatedly with Madeline Wu, both ladies enthralled in whatever the topic was, felt good. Mrs. Granger had become almost like family to Amanda in the short time since she’d moved to the small Oregon beach town from LA. After several hours at Mrs. Granger’s normal hangout, the bench by the small woodstove inside Petrie’s, the old lady was sure to have plenty of stories to tell about the tidbits of news and gossip she’d overheard.

  The interior of the store was warm and smelled of old wool and years of customers buying garden supplies and household items. Squeezing past the cardboard display of seed packets that promised amazing gardens in the upcoming spring, she saw Madeline looking concerned and turning the corner on a side aisle. Amanda waved a quick goodbye to her, then plopped down next to Mrs. Granger, who seemed a bit preoccupied.

  Planting a quick kiss on the old lady’s cheek, Amanda couldn’t help but ask, “So, what were you two talking about?”

  Mrs. Granger’s smile was enigmatic as she looked over the top of her glasses at her young friend. “It’s confidential. You know I would never talk about people behind their backs.” She picked up her neglected knitting and started back to work, her eyes fixed on her project. “Madeline’s got a lot of stuff going on, that’s all.”

  Amanda sighed and settled onto the wooden bench by the woodstove. Mrs. Granger was the absolute best kind of gossip. If someone was truly in trouble or needed a listening ear, she’d never betray a confidence or spread rumors. If, however, she caught a whiff of what she called ‘news’ and it wouldn’t hurt anyone or she hadn’t been sworn to secrecy, she was more than happy to spill the beans. Amanda had heard tales about the townspeople’s love lives, their wild adventures in school, if they forgot to pay the paperboy on a regular basis, and if they didn’t bag up their dog’s leavings when out for a walk. Heaven only knew what the old lady had said about her.

  “Lisa’s back in town,” Mrs. Granger said casually, seemingly unconcerned as Amanda’s sat up poker straight in surprise. “Got the boy with her.” She rolled her glance over to Amanda, her lined face serious. “Looks wild as the dickens. She’s gonna have her hands full with that one, mark my words.”

  Amanda thought about how to respond to that, knowing that what she said might be added to public knowledge if she phrased it wrong. Lisa was a good friend. She was the local reporter for the Ravenwood Tide newspaper and was used to a quiet and orderly life. Amanda knew living with a teen was going to be tough on her. “I’m sure Lisa knows what she’s doing,” she said loyally. “From what I understand, she didn’t have an easy childhood herself and it sounds like Sage could use a change of scenery. Besides, he’s her nephew.”

  The clicking of the knitting needles got faster. “Well, whatever will keep him out of juvenile detention,” Mrs. Granger said, whipping the yarn around her finger and starting a new row. “Things have gotten pretty weird around here lately. I would hate to see any gang activity start up in town.”

  The thought of a pack of wild youth roaming the peaceful streets of Ravenwood Cove as a gang made Amanda nearly choke with laughter. “I’m sure that won’t happen, Mrs. Granger. What do you mean, things have been weird around here?”

  “Murders, stolen jewelry, family secrets, landslides. You know, the usual.”

  They ch
atted a bit more, the conversation veering from what Mrs. Granger had for lunch to what the contractor had said about the new stair project at the Inn. Just as they’d moved on to what the weather forecast was, the front door of the store was smacked open and slammed into the inside wall with a loud bang, the bell over the door ringing wildly from the force. Amanda could hear a set of raised voices near the main counter, one clearly angry, and she leaned around the display to see what was happening.

  Mrs. Mason, the owner of Bake Me Happy, stood in the main lobby, clutching the upper arm of Danielle Ortiz. The eight-year-old daughter of the police chief, Danielle was shaking with fear as Mrs. Mason, normally so calm and sweet, scanned the store.

  “Where is she? Where’s your mother? I’ll get to the bottom of this,” she said as she saw Mrs. Ortiz hurrying from the back of the store, a net bag of daffodil bulbs still clutched in her hand.

  “What is it? What happened?” she asked, rushing forward as she saw her daughter. Danielle began to cry quietly. Pulling her away from Mrs. Mason, Mrs. Ortiz hurriedly checked over the sobbing girl and then turned toward the baker as she clutched her daughter closer to her.

  “What’s this all about?” This time it wasn’t a question. It was a demand for an explanation.

  Mrs. Mason’s face was flushed, like it sometimes was from the heat of her bakery’s big ovens. She gestured at Danielle, who clung to her mother and noisily wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Do you normally give your children hundred dollar bills? Your daughter came into my shop to buy candy and she handed me a hundred dollar bill, and I saw two more in her coin purse. Now,” the baker huffed, locking eyes with Mrs. Ortiz, “–I’ve lived in this town my whole life and I’ve worked in my family’s bakery since I was a little girl. In all that time, I’ve never seen any child come in with that sort of money.” She leaned closer to Danielle and her eyes narrowed. “No grade schooler would have that sort of cash unless they were up to something.”