“Take your hands off of her, young man,” Bernard ordered. “I’ve got this.”
“Chillax man, I’m just doing my job here,” Andrew held his hands up and backed off.
“Then do your job and go get the paperwork,” he snapped.
“Look dude, you can take your nasty attitude and shove it. If I don’t give you the keys to this baby, you ain’t going nowhere, and I’m less and less willing to give them to you. You may be some kind of big shot back home, but right here, right now, you’re just an amateur who needs a boat and I’m the pro who has one, so back off and sit tight, bro,” Andrew raised his eyebrows in a challenge and waited for Bernard to speak.
“Where’s your boss?”
“I’m it, man. This is as good as it gets. You gonna play nice, or are you gonna get off my boat?”
“I’ll play nice,” Bernard had seemingly been overtaken by an eerie calm and his solicitous manner was more than mildly disturbing.
“We don’t have to do this, Dad. We can do something else, it’s okay,” Benson started babbling, stilling when Bernard lifted his hand.
“Get the keys please, Andrew,” he said with a deadly smile.
The young man nodded. “See, that’s what it’s all about, man. All of us living in peace and harmony,” he grinned smugly, thinking that he’d won. I’ll be right back.”
Brittany looked back at the receding figure of Andrew waving from the dock, wondering what sort of condition she and Bennie might be in upon their return, if they returned at all.
Chapter 8
Brittany reclined against the vinyl cushions in the front of the boat, enjoying the sun on her face, thankful that for the first time in a long time, she could relax and just enjoy herself. Her father steered the boat out into the Gulf while she and Bennie enjoyed the sun. The odd behavior that Bernard had exhibited on the dock was a passing ghost of a memory that Brittany dismissed as having been a temporary overreaction. Clearly, her dad had calmed down and seemed to be enjoying commanding the small boat as the land receded behind them.
There was a small cooler in between the teenagers that apparently had been placed there by Andrew. Curious, Bennie opened it up and was delighted to find a stash of water bottles, sodas, and a plastic container of pineapple, tucked in among the ice. Grabbing an ice-cold bottle of cola, he looked inquiringly at his sister. She licked her lips, longing for even a taste of the sweet, bubbly beverage, but shook her head after glancing back at Bernard, who seemed to be oblivious to his children. Benson then picked up the container of pineapple and tossed it to her. She caught it, wide-eyed and afraid, and immediately threw it back into the cooler, turning away from her brother and closing her eyes to continue soaking in the sun.
Bernard turned the boat abruptly about, killing the engine. Brittany’s stomach lurched and her heart pounded, hoping he hadn’t seen her with the pineapple in her hands. Her food intake was a matter of major importance to her father, and was not something that she trifled with. Her father rose up from the captain’s chair and strode angrily to the front of the boat, kicking the cooler out of his way. He grabbed Brittany by the arm, his fingers sinking into her flesh like an angry claw, and pulled the terrified girl to her feet.
“Hey!” Benson called out, his face red with emotion. “Stop it, Dad, you’re going to hurt her!”
Ignoring his son entirely, Bernard dragged a whimpering and resistant Brittany to the back of the boat.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing young lady, but I won’t allow you to undermine your own future. Get down,” he ordered, still grasping her arm and forcing her to her knees by the side of the boat past the captain’s chair.
Once Bernard had Brittany cowering before him on her knees, he took both of her slim wrists in one hand, pulling her arms up behind her back, and shoved her closer to the side of the boat. Thinking that the mad man was going to push his sister over, Benson cried out again in protest.
“Seriously, Dad, stop!” His father merely shot his son a warning look, pinning the teenager in place with fear.
“If you’re going to be stupid enough to take it in, I’m more than smart enough to get it back out,” he hissed in Brittany’s ear, simultaneously shoving his fingers down the girl’s throat and thrusting her stomach against the side of the boat. When the small amount of vegetable smoothie that she’d had for breakfast rose up, he repeatedly slammed her midsection against the side of the boat so that the mess forcefully sprayed out into the sea.
“What are you doing? Stop!” Bennie screamed, lunging at his father, who turned around, lightning fast, and shoved the teenager back so roughly, that he fell against the console, striking his head hard enough to knock himself out.
“Bennie!” Brittany screamed, afraid that her father had gone too far and actually killed her brother.
Bernard released her hands, pushing her so that she had to grapple madly to keep from falling overboard. Sinking down to the bottom of the boat, as he went calmly back to the captain’s chair, the sore and shaking girl pulled her knees to her chest, whimpering softly enough to not attract any undue attention, and trying to steal glances at her brother’s prone form.
**
Two pale and somber teenagers followed their father back into the Inn.
“Did you have a good time?” Missy asked, concerned by their lackluster appearances, and the large goose-egg on Benson’s forehead.
“Yes ma’am,” they replied, eerily quietly, in unison.
Maggie and Missy exchanged a worried glance. When Bernard and his children disappeared upstairs, Morty, who had witnessed the strange parade without anyone noticing his presence, sighed loudly.
“Someone needs to teach that sorry excuse for a human being a lesson,” he growled.
Surprised, Missy and Maggie looked at him, unable to disagree.
Chapter 9
“Chas, I’m worried about those children,” Missy confided to her husband over dinner. She was so upset by the situation that she could barely eat.
“Have you seen anything specific that could be considered criminal in nature?” the detective asked quietly.
“No, he’s just nasty to them all the time, and they’re withdrawn and seem scared whenever he’s around,” she shrugged, frustrated.
“Well, unfortunately, it’s not illegal to be a jerk to your kids. Have you seen any signs of abuse?”
“Well, Brant had a black eye…”
“And didn’t he tell you that he had fallen and hit it on the coffee table?”
“Well, yes, but, what if he made that up because he was scared, or threatened?”
“Unless you can prove that, it doesn’t hold water. I’m sorry, sweetie, but these type of cases get very sticky and are hard to prove,” Chas rubbed his thumb over her palm.
“What about the huge bump on Benson’s head?”
“If he doesn’t overtly accuse his father, it doesn’t have any impact. If you have something concrete to work with, we can call in Child Protection, but with no evidence of harm, even their hands are tied. I’m sorry,” the detective kissed her forehead.
“I know it’s hard to watch inept parents making their children unhappy, but there’s nothing we can do about that.”
“I hate that,” Missy’s lower lip trembled. “Children are precious and I don’t know how anyone could…” she didn’t finish her sentence, too disgusted to continue.
“I know,” her husband soothed, taking her in his arms.
**
“Good heavens, Morty!” Vera Klein exclaimed, looking up from her romance novel when her husband came into the sunroom after a morning walk, his clothing soaking wet. “What the heck happened to you?” she demanded, laying her book down on the end table next to her.
“Bah, I was walking on the beach and stepped on a seashell or something – hurt so bad that it knocked me off balance and I fell in the water,” he groused, cranky.
“How did you get that scrape on your arm?” she wondered, peering at a b
it of blood that was seeping out from under his sleeve.
“I dunno, probably got bit by a shark while I was flopping around,” he quirked a half-grin.
“Well, don’t stand there dripping on the Persian rug, go get dried off and make yourself presentable,” his wife shooed him away, picking her book up from the table.
“Yeah, yeah,” Morty grumbled, heading up the stairs.
**
“Excuse me,” Brenda Thornton came up to Missy in the breakfast room, touching her lightly on the arm. “I hate to bother you, but…have you seen Mr. Thornton this morning?” she asked, looking worried.
“No, I haven’t. Why?” the hair on the back of Missy’s neck rose for some reason that she couldn’t fathom.
“Well, I wasn’t really concerned when he went on an errand yesterday and didn’t return – he sometimes needs some alone time – but it looks like he didn’t come back at all last night, and I haven’t seen him yet this morning, so…” she trailed off, biting her lower lip nervously.
“I hope I’m not being too personal here,” Missy said carefully. “But…wouldn’t you have noticed if he got in late and came to bed?”
Brenda thought for a moment, seemed to come to a decision, and sighed. “Mrs. Beckett, Bernard and I have a unique marital relationship. He takes care of the family financially, and I take care of their other needs. We haven’t slept in the same bed for several years now,” she confided, looking embarrassed.
“He and the boys share the large suite, and Brittany and I are in the adjoining room.”
Missy was nonplussed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I had no idea. Well, where do you suppose he might be?” she asked, tactfully changing the subject.
“I have no idea. When we’re at home, he usually works late, but out here I have no clue where he would go for his alone time here,” she shook her head.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
Brenda frowned, trying to remember. “Let’s see…I can’t be entirely sure of the exact time, because I was out at the pool with the twins and didn’t have a watch, but it was shortly after he came back from fishing, so I’m guessing…late afternoon, maybe?”
“Okay,” Missy nodded. “Well, I know that it’s usually best to wait until twenty-four hours have passed before reporting him missing, unless you think that there’s a possibility of foul play.”
Mrs. Thornton shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, Bernard is always in complete control of every situation. He’d never get himself into a bad spot,” she insisted.
“That being the case, I think it’s probably best to just wait until this afternoon, and if he still hasn’t returned, we can report him as a missing person. Accidents can happen to even the most meticulous people,” she pointed out.
“I suppose so,” Brenda murmured. “Okay. I’ll keep you posted.”
“If you need anything, even just to talk, be sure to let me know,” Missy said sympathetically, giving the worried woman’s arm a tiny squeeze of reassurance.
“Thank you, I will.”
Spencer appeared suddenly, startling the two women, and intense look on his face.
“Mrs. Beckett, may I speak with you privately?” he asked, his eyes fierce.
“Certainly, Spence. Brenda, won’t you excuse us?”
“Of course. I’ll be at the pool if you hear anything,” she replied, heading for the back door.
“Spencer, what is it?” Missy asked when she was out of earshot. She could tell by the look on the Marine’s face that something was terribly wrong.
“You should go out to the pool and take a look at Brittany Thornton’s abdomen. She’s been hurt, and I swear, if I find out who did that to her, I’ll…”
“-Uh, Spence, let’s just table that thought for a moment. I don’t want you to say anything that could be used against you later,” she interrupted.
“What?” the Marine was confused. “What are you talking about?” his eyes narrowed.
“Bernard Thornton is missing, and you and I both know that he’s the most likely person to have harmed his daughter,” she whispered.
“Missing? Since when?”
“Yesterday afternoon, apparently. Can you…?”
“Yup, I’m on it,” he nodded, heading for the door.
Missy went out to the pool under the pretense of offering drinks, and saw Brittany Thornton laying on a lounger in her bikini, her entire midsection a mass of ugly purple and red bruises. Trying not to cry, she offered water and snacks, then hurried back into the house so that she didn’t break down in front of the lovely teenager and her mom.
Chapter 10
Because of a busier than usual morning, Missy met Echo and Kel after lunch to catch up on town gossip and quality “friend time.” They sipped freshly brewed Costa Rican coffee and picked at Mango Madness cupcakes while discussing the latest.
“But…how could anyone do that to such a sweet, beautiful girl?” Echo asked rhetorically, shaking her head.
“Perhaps the dastardly man thought that he’d finally gone too far, and disappeared in order to save his own skin,” Kel mused, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“There has to be a story there,” Missy remarked. “I want to know more about that savage beast. What kind of life is he really leading when he’s “working late?”
The artist nodded. “I have to agree. Anyone who could visit such atrocities upon his own offspring could be capable of any number of transgressions.”
“Plus, if we knew more about him, we might be able to figure out where he is,” Echo pointed out. “You don’t think that the children are in danger, do you?”
“I certainly hope not, but I’ve alerted Spencer as to what’s going on, so he can keep an eye on things around here.”
“Does Chas know?” Kel leaned forward.
“Not yet, I told Brenda to wait until he’d been gone for twenty-four hours before reporting him missing.”
“He could be anywhere, given that amount of time in which to flee,” the artist observed.
“True, but at least if he’s fleeing, his kids will be safe.”
“For now,” Echo said softly.
The bells above the door jangled, startling the trio.
“Hey gang,” Morty Klein greeted them.
“Hi Morty,” Missy smiled. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Nah, thanks, that stuff gives me the jitters, you know? My lovely wife sent me over here to fetch some cupcakes for her, said you’d know what she liked,” he shrugged, clearly a man doing his duty.
Missy nodded. “Yes, I do. She told me yesterday that she fell in love with the strawberry lemonade ones. How many would you like?”
“Four should do it. One for her, three for me,” he grinned wickedly.
“Coming right up. Hey, have you seen Mr. Thornton around, by chance?”
“Thankfully, no,” Morty grimaced as though he’d eaten something bitter. “And it’s darn lucky for him too. I’d like to give that mealy-mouthed loser a piece of my mind,” the older man’s face reddened and a vein pulsed in the center of his forehead.
“Join the club,” Missy said, handing him a bakery box filled with cupcakes. “Oh my goodness,” she remarked, catching sight of a gash on his arm. “What happened?”
“Cat fight with the old lady,” he joked. “She wins every time.”
“You are too much, Mr. Klein,” she chuckled. “You two enjoy those cupcakes.”
“What a character,” she shook her head, still smiling after Morty went on his way.
Kel looked pensive. “Quite a profound reaction he had to the mention of Bernard Thornton, don’t you think?”
“Well, they’ve had a couple of run-ins since the Kleins arrived. To say that the two men don’t get along is a bit of an understatement, but completely understandable, given the two vastly different personalities.”
“Still, to harbor such animosity toward a total stranger…strikes me as more than a bit odd.”
“Well, Bernard
Thornton does seem to be one of the most obnoxious, repugnant, controlling human beings on the planet,” Echo pointed out. “I mean, I generally get along with everyone, but I don’t think that I’d like this guy either.”
“What are you thinking, Kel?” Missy asked, sitting down and staring at him intently.
“Perhaps we should start looking at people in Thornton’s life who feel the way that Mr. Klein does,” the artist suggested.
“Well, if it turns out that he’s actually missing, I guess we’ll want to do that,” she nodded.
Chapter 11
Detective Chas Beckett heaved a sigh after hanging up the phone. As a homicide detective, he knew that finding a body always opened up a new can of worms, and was a necessary part of solving a crime, but dealing with the corpse was the least favorite part of his work, particularly when the body had been pulled from the water. Often times, under those circumstances, nature did a far better job of concealing evidence than any criminal mastermind could have. On occasion, all that was left of the corpse consisted of an incomplete skeleton, with scattered strands of flesh clinging to the bones. If a very large predator chose to partake, there might only be a random body part found.
Opening his desk drawer, he slipped a small container of eucalyptus jelly in his pocket, just in case, and grabbed the keys to his non-descript beige police sedan. A body had been discovered in the water about a mile from the marina, and no identification had been found. He texted Missy before he left, to cancel their lunch date, getting in the car without waiting for a response. His beloved wife took the demands of his job in stride, and he knew that she’d be disappointed, but would understand.
Arriving on the scene, Chas scanned the immediate area as he headed toward the group of officers milling about, performing various investigative and forensic duties behind the crime scene tape. The coroner was already on site, and was carefully examining the body, while the department’s photographer digitally captured the details of the corpse and scene.
Hot Chocolate Murder: A Frosted Love Cozy Mystery - Book 28 (A Frosted Love Cozy Mysteries) Page 3