Something Fishy

by Lois Schmitt

  Dozens of scenarios swirled through my mind. But one thought kept recurring. Jack and Katie, both killed within a week of each other, worked at the aquarium.

  Coincidence? I think not.

  Did the murders relate to the donation from the Alicia Wilcox Chandler Estate? Or was something else happening at Clam Cove?

  Although it appeared that Sam Wong’s temporary disappearance had nothing to do with the two deaths, I felt Sam might hold the key to the murders.

  I drained my cup, grabbed my phone, and punched in Abby’s number.

  “Do you know how to contact Sam?” I asked. “Can you set up a meeting with the three of us?”

  “Of course. But I have an immediate problem, Mom,” she said. “It’s Katie’s cat, Gus. Owl is terrified of him. She freaked out when she saw him and bee-lined for under my bed. Gus wants to be friends, but Owl will have no part of it. She won’t come out if he’s around.”

  Owl was a calico cat my husband had rescued from a dumpster. We brought her to our house, but she turned out to be a real “scaredy cat” when it came to Archie and Brandy, so Abby adopted her. Apparently, Owl felt the same way toward cats as she did dogs.

  “Katie once told me that Gus gets along with dogs.” Abby hesitated, but I had a good idea of what was coming next. “Katie would want me to be sure I found a good home for him. Do you think you could take him?”

  Matt had brought rescued animals home from the veterinary hospital, and our dogs usually were fine. Key word is usually. When dealing with animals every situation is different. Odds were Archie, Brandy, and Gus would get along splendidly, but until they met, no one could be sure. “Why don’t you bring him here later, Abby, and we’ll see how it goes. Meanwhile, don’t forget to call Sam.”

  *****

  Matt and I were cleaning up the dinner dishes when Abby and Jason paraded into the house, toting a large cat carrier containing Gus. Archie and Brandy, who were in the backyard, knew something was up. They bounded toward the house.

  As Abby released the cat, I slowly pulled open the door and let in the two dogs, one at a time. They both began the butt sniff ritual with Gus. The cat tensed, but none of the animals showed aggression. Finally the dogs trotted off to the living room. Gus remained with us.

  “They appear to tolerate each other,” Abby said. “Sometimes that’s the best you can hope for.” She changed the subject. “Sam’s agreed to meet with us tomorrow. What’s this about, Mom?”

  “I know you were Katie’s best friend. But Sam was her fiancé. She may have told him something she never mentioned to you. Or vice versa. I think it’s important to bring the two of you together to share information.”

  “Like a puzzle,” Jason said. “You put all the pieces together to come up with the picture, right?”

  Jason was prone to analogies.

  Abby nodded in agreement, then said, “Where’s grandma?”

  “She’s on a winery tour with her friend Marcia Silver. She ‘s staying at Marcia’s place tonight.” From the corner of my eye, I spied Gus scampering out of the kitchen.

  “Is Paul Andre with grandma and Marcia?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I had hoped to ask my mother what was going on, but we haven’t crossed paths since she came home crying two days ago.”

  “Grandma was expecting a ring,” Abby said. “Maybe Paul jilted her.”

  “Possibly. She’s got to come home sometime. When she does, I’ll find out what happened. Meanwhile, who wants a glass of wine?”

  Everyone accepted. Matt poured Chardonnay into four glasses and we headed to the living room. There was Brandy, stretched out on the living room floor, her back touching Archie, whose body was curled up around Gus. The cat’s eyes were closed, and I heard a faint purring amid canine snoring.

  “I guess they get along well, after all,” Abby said with a smile.

  *****

  Around eight a.m. Monday morning, I pulled into the parking lot of Pirate Pete’s Coffee Shop located about five miles west of Clam Shell Cove.

  Pirate Pete’s was different than most of the restaurants that dominated the area. Overlooking the docks where commercial fishing boats moored, this place was out of the 1950s—right down to its Formica tables.

  I spotted Sam Wong in a far corner booth, staring at the ceiling.

  “They don’t have a big breakfast crowd,” I said, upon reaching the table. We appeared to be the restaurant’s only customers. “Do they burn the toast?”

  “Their breakfast patrons are long gone. They’re fisherman, and by this time they’re out on the water. That’s why when Abby called and said you wanted to meet, I suggested this place. We can talk in private.”

  “How are you holding up?” I slid into a chair.

  His eyes filled up as he shook his head. “I can’t believe Katie is dead. We started planning our wedding last—”

  “Coffee?” interrupted a buxom blond waitress, also reminiscent of the nineteen fifties.

  Abby had entered the restaurant and was headed toward us. “Make it three,” I said to the waitress. She nodded and filled our cups.

  Not one for formalities, my daughter slid into a chair and zoomed straight to the point. “Sam, do you know about the funeral plans yet?”

  “They’ll be a memorial service as soon as the body is released by the medical examiner—at least that’s what I’m told,” he said, a bitterness in his voice. “I’m not a relative so they don’t tell me anything.”

  “Who do they release the body to?” I knew that Katie’s parents had died in a car accident when she was fifteen. Katie was raised by her grandmother, Alicia Wilcox Chandler, who passed away a year ago.

  “The body is going to her cousin, Calvin Chandler. He’s her only relative. He’s the one making the funeral arrangements.”

  “I can’t believe that.” Abby slammed down her cup, spilling coffee on the table. “Katie despised Calvin.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Calvin is a con artist. Years ago, he was arrested and spent six months in prison for operating a Ponzi scheme.”

  “That wasn’t the first time he’d been involved in illegal activities,” Sam added. “He was a wide receiver on his college football team, and he was caught accepting bribes to throw the games. He got kicked out of school.”

  Abby nodded. “Since he was released from prison, he’s worked in a variety of sales jobs. Supposedly, he hasn’t been in anymore trouble.”

  “You look skeptical?” I said.

  “Katie told me there were rumors about his use of unethical business practices.”

  “So what can I getcha?” The waitress had returned, breaking the tension for a few moments while we scanned the menus. Sam ordered oatmeal, Abby, an English muffin, and I selected blueberry pancakes, which according to the signs posted throughout the room, were “world famous.” After refilling my coffee cup, the waitress departed, and I asked Sam, “Do you know who will replace Katie as executor of her grandmother’s estate?”

  “Calvin, unfortunately. Alicia Wilcox Chandler named him as executor in the event of Katie’s death. She had a soft spot for the boy. He bamboozled her. She thought he was framed for the Ponzi scheme.”

  “What about the football bribes? Did she believe that was a frame-up too?”

  “Alicia dismissed that as coming from the rash nature and immaturity of youth.” Sam shook his head.

  “Did Katie know about this? Didn’t she try to convince her grandmother to name someone else as secondary executor?” I asked.

  “Katie didn’t like it, but she wasn’t really concerned. What person under thirty thinks they are going to suddenly die?”

  “So, will the six million still go to the aquarium?”

  “Probably not.” Sam leaned back. “There’s twelve million to be distributed. Alicia named three charitie
s—Clam Cove Aquarium, the Seafarer’s Museum, and the Clam Cove Lighthouse Preservation Fund. She specified the money was to be divided among them but not necessarily equally. The executor was given the power to determine how much each organization would get. But the will specifies that each group must get at least three million, and no one group can get more than six million.”

  “Katie thought the aquarium’s plan was the most deserving,” Abby added.

  “There’s something that’s been bothering me for awhile. Katie worked for the aquarium,” I said. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

  Abby shook her head. “Katie told me that her grandmother specifically stated in her will that she had no issue with her granddaughter’s employment at the aquarium. I understand the will was written by an old and respected law firm. Katie said it was ironclad.

  I nodded. “But the money has to go to charities. Calvin can’t keep it for himself. So why wouldn’t he honor Katie’s pledge?

  “There’s nothing he’d like better than getting in good with Lucien Moray,” Sam said. “Calvin has the opportunity to do this now by only giving the minimum to the aquarium. No matter how great their fund raising efforts, it’s doubtful they can make up the loss in time to buy the property.”

  “Leaving Moray free to buy the land?” I completed the thought.

  “Moray would probably reward Calvin handsomely.” Abby clenched her fists.

  For a few moments, we sat in silence. Abby finally spoke, addressing her question to Sam. “Katie told me you were leaving Moray’s employ.”

  “That’s right. I’ve given him my notice. He asked me to stay on till the end of the year, so I could tie up lose ends. I agreed.”

  “Why did you agree to that?” Abby inherited my bluntness.

  “So the parting would be amicable. You don’t cross Lucien Moray. I’m not sure what I’ll do but, whatever it is, I’ll use him as a reference.”

  I recalled what I’d seen the day I interviewed Lucien Moray. “Sam, your office looked as if you were ready to leave now. Barren walls, no personal mementos or work related items on your desk, not even a computer.”

  He smiled slightly. “I use a laptop, Mrs. Farrell, and I usually have it with me. I did when I went upstate. As for photos…” He shrugged. “I guess I’ve always kept my personal life separate from business. A workplace is for work.”

  Something Jillian Patterson had said came back to me, and I wondered if it was connected to the deaths of Jack and Katie. “I was told you called the Patterson house a few days before Jack’s body was found.”

  “Jack’s body?” Sam spit out a mouthful of coffee. “He’s dead too?”

  Sam had been out of town when that occurred, and I guessed he hadn’t heard the news. “Yes. They found Jack’s body in the inlet. The autopsy showed that he died from a needle to the base of his brain.”

  “Why would any one kill Jack?”

  “That’s what I’d like to find out. So, what did you want to speak to Jack about?”

  Sam fidgeted with his spoon. “Nothing important. I wanted to talk to him about a surprise party for Katie’s birthday.”

  Abby nodded, then explained to me. “Katie’s birthday would have been in three weeks. Sam was planning a small party.”

  It made sense, so I went on to another point. “Do you think Calvin or Lucien could have had anything to do with Katie’s death?”

  Sam drained what remained in his coffee cup and shrugged. “They both have motive. But as the police say, no means or opportunity. Neither had access to the aquarium.”

  “That we know of,” Abby added.

  Chapter Ninteen

  As I pulled into the aquarium parking lot, securing a spot in the last row, it dawned on me how quickly law enforcement had cleared the crime scene. The aquarium was a major tourist attraction, and I could only surmise that Commander West had called in lots of favors. There appeared to be lots of visitors today.

  With Katie’s death weighing heavily on our minds, Sam, Abby, and I had barely eaten any of our breakfast, so I was more than forty-five minutes early for my appointment with fish keeper Oscar Mejas, who was taking me out on the aquarium’s tour boat. The purpose was to view from the water the twenty acres of land the aquarium hoped to acquire. As much as my heart ached for Katie, I had to do my job.

  With time to kill, I would do what I do best—snoop. I’d start with the staff at the sea lion amphitheater.

  A sign swung from the amphitheater gate that read: CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. Peering inside, I spotted five sea lions sprawled out on the rocks, basking in the sun, on the far side of the moat. Directly above, an aquarium employee hosed down the stage. I recognized her from my first visit to Clam Cove. It was Madge, the marine mammal care attendant.

  “Hello,” I called. “May I come up and talk with you?”

  “We’re closed,” she yelled back.

  “I’m not here for the sea lion show. I’m Katie’s friend.”

  She raised her head and stared at me.

  “It’s important.” I said as she continued staring in silence.

  “I guess it’s okay.” She made her way across the moat bridge, unlatched the gate, and moved aside so I could enter.

  “Yeah. I think I recognize you,” she said. “You were here before, weren’t you?”

  I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I wanted her to know I was a reporter, but I feared she might remember having seen me in Commander West’s office the day Jack Patterson’s body had been discovered.

  “I was with the aquarium director when you came in and told him Katie had run off,” I admitted.

  “Run off?”

  “The day she left here—minutes before the sea lion show.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot. But I knew I saw you before.”

  Since Madge didn’t seem curious as to why I’d been in the director’s office that day, I let it drop. At that moment, one of the sea lions climbed off the rock and hopped on the stage.

  “Bea is sad,” said Madge. “She was Katie’s favorite.”

  I nodded as the sea lion waddled toward me. Maybe it was just her soulful brown eyes. But I knew that animals often mourned, even when the loss was of a different species.

  “With Katie gone, what’s going to happen with the sea lion show?” I asked, while I rubbed Bea’s head.

  “We have an assistant trainer. He’s been on vacation the past two weeks. But he’ll be back on Wednesday.” She paused. “Maybe Thursday. That’s when we’ll start up again. But it won’t be the same. Katie was my friend.”

  “Did Katie say anything to you about Jack Patterson recently?” I asked.

  Madge scratched her chin. “Jack Patterson. Yeah, I know him. He was a fish keeper here. Hey, he died too.”

  I drew in a long breath. This wouldn’t be easy.

  “Yes, he died too. That’s why I want to know if Katie spoke about him recently.”

  “I liked Jack. Sometimes I called him Jacks. He loved the bay and the ocean, just like me. He was always nice to me too.”

  “Was he close to Katie?”

  “Yeah. I think so. He came up here a lot to talk with her, especially lately.”

  “When was the last time you saw them together?”

  “Madge furrowed her brow. “Maybe two or three days before they found his body. He came here twice that day.” Madge held up three fingers. She put one down.

  “Do you know what he talked to Katie about?”

  Madge nodded.

  “Can you tell me?”

  Madge ran her hand under her nose. “Yeah. He asked who she had told about the invitation.”

  “What invitation?”

  Madge shrugged. “Maybe the invitation to that fancy cocktail party at her house.”

  “What did Katie tell him?”

  “Dunno. I
left to feed the sea lions.” She glanced at her watch. “I better go. I gotta feed them now, too.”

  We said good-bye, and I wandered back to the main facility for my appointment with fish keeper Oscar Mejas. As I stepped into the building, I nearly collided with Commander West who was hurrying toward the door.

  “Good morning, Commander. Are you leaving?”

  “I’m headed to the hospital.”

  “The hospital?”

  He nodded. “The security guard regained consciousness.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Had the police talked to the guard? Did the guard see who hit him? Dozens of questions swirled around my head, but Commander West rushed out before I could ask any.

  “If only fish could talk,” I muttered, while passing a school of shimmering silver piranhas in the Amazon exhibit. From their location across from where I discovered the guard’s body, they had seen everything.

  While making my way down the corridor, I shuddered as the sea snake tank came into view. The horrid sight of Katie Chandler’s dead body flashed before my eyes, but I willed myself to think of something else.

  Bradford Monroe sat behind his desk sorting through mounds of papers, a frown etched on his forehead. I still had a few minutes before my appointment with Oscar, so I rapped on Bradford’s open door.

  “Come in,” he said, his frown fading, replaced by a toothy grin. He leaned back. “What brings you here today?” He motioned toward a chair across from his desk.

  “Oscar Mejas is taking me out on the aquarium’s tour boat,” I answered, sliding into the seat. “He’s showing me the twenty acres you hope to acquire, but I wonder if this is a moot point. It looks as if you won’t get the six million.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” His toothy grin became wolf-like. “I’m setting up a meeting with Calvin Chandler. Hopefully, I’ll convince him to honor Katie’s commitment.”

  When pigs fly. “But let’s say he refuses. That’s a lot of money to make up.”