Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries

by K L Montgomery

  He grunted like he wasn’t sure he bought my story. “Well, ya need to move along now. Most of the boats are coming in to dock, and this place is about to get real busy. Plus, it doesn’t smell real good, ya know?”

  I chuckled. “Right. Okay, I just want to walk down to the end of the dock, then I’ll come right back. Promise.” I smiled at him. I would have tried flirting, but I was certain it would only come across as awkward and disingenuous since I had no clue how to go about it.

  The Mary Sue was growing closer to the dock as I made my way to the end, hoping I could get a better look at the crab traps inside the boat before anyone figured out I wasn’t actually gathering inspiration for my novel. Once I was at the very edge, the boat was only twenty yards out. I aimed my binoculars toward the wire cages and squinted as the image bobbed in front of my eyes, and I tried to focus on it.

  I couldn’t read the words – they were yellow on blue, but I did see there was a red crab in the middle of the tag with a B in the center. I committed that image to memory. I’d have to go back to my trusty friend Google now.

  Hustling back down the dock, I nodded to the man who had spoken to me before. I hoped I could stay on good terms and fly under the proverbial radar, because I had a feeling I would need to spend more time down here in the future.

  Six

  Bond and Paige were both lying on the back of the sofa when I returned from my spy mission, but they didn’t stay put for long. Within minutes of my arrival, they were circling my legs like sharks stalking a bleeding fish in the water.

  “I can never tell if you guys actually like me, or if I’m just the chick with the food.” I stroked my hand down Paigie-Poo’s back. Her soft purr vibrating under my fingers gave me my answer.

  As I was spooning their food into their respective dishes, my phone chimed in my purse. Once my kitties were happily munching away, I retrieved my phone to check my texts. The new one was from Evangeline.

  Evangeline: Heard back from my ex.

  Me: And?

  Evangeline: Long story short: he talked to his colleague he still knows there. She searched their system for the tests and came up with nada.

  Me: What? There’s nothing for Bryce Beach in there?

  Evangeline: Nope.

  Me: Okay. That’s so weird. Why would they lie about working with the university lab?

  Evangeline: No clue.

  Me: Do you know who’s in charge of the lab?

  Evangeline: No, but I’ll ask him.

  Me: Okay, thanks.

  Evangeline: You super owe me now.

  Me: LOL whatever.

  I was going to be spending a lot of time with my trusty laptop tonight, apparently. After popping some leftovers on a plate and sticking them in the microwave, I set up my computer right there on the kitchen counter. First I did a search for The Mary Sue fishing boat. Apparently that was a fairly common boat name, so I added Bryce Beach to my search query. All that came up were a few photos on Facebook from a fishing competition that had been held a few years back—apparently The Mary Sue was one of the vessels that brought in a winning fish.

  “Well, isn’t that special?” I said, channeling my inner Church Lady from Saturday Night Live.

  I searched for “seafood Bryce Beach,” and most of the results were area restaurants. But then I put in “wholesale crab” plus the name of our state, and a list of seafood companies and distributors came up. I clicked on images and scanned them for the blue and yellow logo with the red crab on it.

  I gasped when I found it. The bright blue and yellow caught my eye immediately, and when I clicked on it, my jaw dropped. The “B” stood for Boxbury Seafood Company.

  Wasn’t that Carlton Boxbury’s family business? The one in Moon Point?

  Surely they don’t have anything to do with this…

  But Bob Summer had said crab traps were going to solve their problems. And those were crab traps on the boat…

  I was probably jumping to conclusions. There had to be dozens of boats at the marina with crab traps.

  I needed to know a little bit more about the Boxbury family, but fortunately, with Jada dating the grandson and heir apparent to the Boxbury seafood empire, I could probably find out more from her than I could by doing random internet searches.

  I made some notes in the document I’d started while sitting in the marina bar, then I opened up another browser window and decided to investigate the marine biology lab at the state university. I didn’t know how much information they’d have publicly available on the web, but it was worth a shot. Maybe I could figure out who was in charge of the lab and then just call them up to ask about the status of the testing? Then I didn’t have to rely on Evangeline pumping her ex for the info, which she seemed rather averse to doing.

  After searching for the university’s website, I clicked on Departments, then on Biology. Scrolling down, I saw all the different specialties within biology. Martin McDowell Marine Biology Laboratory jumped out at me. Clicking that took me to their website.

  There was a blog with posts about different projects they were doing at the lab. They were tracking some data about the health of Bryce Cove, but I didn’t see any mention of the dead aquatic life that washed up on the beach.

  I clicked on About Us and learned the lab was run by Gloria Pink, PhD.

  Cool name. I’d be giving Dr. Pink a call in the morning.

  I was greeted by The Queen of Denim, AKA Linda O’Neal, when I went to Technical Services to talk to Jada. Located in the back of the library, the area was a maze of bookshelves and cubicles and strange odors. I wasn’t sure where the strange odors came from—you’d think from new books, which was an awesome smell, but alas, these were not nearly so appealing.

  “Hey, Sunny,” Linda said, smoothing down a noticeable wrinkle in her chambray shirt. It was tucked neatly into a full denim skirt, and she wore a turquoise-studded silver and leather belt around her waist. She looked like she stepped out of a gift shop in Arizona, basically.

  “Sunshine,” I corrected her, as per usual. “Jada in?”

  “She’s in her office.” Linda smiled and tilted her head toward the corner, where Jada’s office was.

  “Hey there.” I poked my head in the door. I’d never told her that I saw her and her boyfriend eating at Angelo’s the other night, so I thought that would be my logical conversation starter.

  “What’s up?” Her eyebrows quirked as she scanned my face like she was trying to decide if this was a business or personal visit.

  “I forgot to tell you that I saw you and Carlton at Angelo’s the other night after work,” I started. Ooh, go me, sounding all smooth and not at all like I was planning to interrogate her.

  “You did?!” Her face brightened when she realized I was here for personal chitchat. “Why didn’t you come over and say hi?”

  “Oh,” I gestured with my hand, waving her off, “I didn’t want to interrupt you two. You looked like things were getting pretty hot and heavy!”

  Her dark skin actually flushed. I wasn’t expecting that. Then she scrambled for words. “Hot and heavy? Wow…I…” Her eyes widened as a nervous giggle spilled out of her mouth. “I mean, who’s hot and who’s heavy?” She shrugged like my observation was completely unwarranted.

  I know what I saw.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” I smiled, hoping she wasn’t upset or offended. I supposed I didn’t really know Jada as well as it seemed—just because we’d been held at gunpoint together didn’t mean we were besties, you know?

  “Oh, it’s okay. I just…” She fanned her face like she was trying to cool herself off. “I really like him.”

  “He seems to like you too,” I confirmed—maybe that would help.

  She leaned in, eyes wide. “You think? How can you tell?”

  Well, I wasn’t an expert on matters of love, having not really had a serious relationship, well, ever. I had a couple of non-serious boyfriends back in my twenties, but they fizzled out. However,
I wanted to get some information about Carlton Boxbury, so I knew it would behoove me to butter her up. I drew the line at lying—that would be hurtful and harmful. But I could embellish, right?

  “The way he was looking at you,” I said. “Looking at you like you were the only person in the room. That’s why I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

  Her hands went to her heart as she swooned. “That’s so sweet!”

  “Have you met his parents yet?” I liked the way it seemed to fit into the conversation and advanced my objectives.

  “I’m going to meet them this weekend, actually,” she said, her whole body stiffening. “I don’t know what to wear. They’re super rich!”

  “They own a seafood place in Moon Point, right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, they sell wholesale seafood to restaurants and grocery stores. It’s not glamorous, but apparently it’s pretty lucrative.”

  “Well, I know how people around here feel about their crabs,” I joked.

  “Oh, they totally love their crabs,” she agreed, nodding. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Does the company fish in Bryce Cove?” I asked. It probably seemed like a non-sequitur, but I was going to just go with it.

  Her brows furrowed as she tapped a finger on the surface of her desk. “I don’t know. Why?”

  I shrugged. “Just wondering. I was down at the marina after work yesterday, just hanging out.”

  “Why would you hang out down there?” Her nose wrinkled up.

  Okay, yeah, that did sound suspicious. “I went to Josie’s,” I lied.

  “Wow, Angelo’s one night and Josie’s the next. When you go out, you do it up right, huh?”

  “Yep.” I pointed to my thick waist and voluptuous hips. “Well, you don’t get these curves by eating salad every night!”

  She laughed. “Josie’s was great. I hope Carlton will take me back there soon.”

  “You’ll have to let me know how it goes with his family,” I urged her.

  “Okay.” She smiled, seeming surprised that I had taken an interest in her love life, but also kind of thrilled she had someone to dish with. I wondered if Evangeline had put the kibosh on Jada’s lovesick musings about Carlton the Third.

  “Well, I guess I better get to my desk, see what’s on the agenda for today.” I tried to think of more questions about the Boxburys, but I assumed if she hadn’t met them yet, she probably wouldn’t know the answers.

  “Lunch in the courtyard?” Her voice filled with hope.

  “As long as it doesn’t rain!” I promised, and then I headed for the door, shooting The Queen of Denim a smile on my way out.

  Molly was standing by my desk, all aflutter, when I returned from speaking with Jada. “Guess who I saw last night!”

  “Tell me,” I urged her, though I was itching to get my hands on my phone so I could call Dr. Pink at the marine biology lab. I still wasn’t quite sure what to say to her, but I would think of something.

  “Mayor Steyer’s son, Dylan. Remember how we saw him at Josie’s the other night?”

  “Yeah?” I still hadn’t figured out what was so exciting about him, but apparently Molly was gaga over the guy. Even more gaga than she appeared to be over Pastor Bethany.

  “I saw him on the boardwalk last night with his dad and stepmom. They were coming out of The Candy Shoppe while I was headed in.” She looked like she was about to burst. “He said hi to me. I think he recognized me! I sent him a friend request on Facebook, so we’ll see!” She crossed her fingers and waved them around.

  “I wish someone would get that excited about me saying hi to them!” I teased her. “I don’t understand your fascination with him.”

  She sighed. “Okay, so he was a grade below me in school.”

  “Which means I was two grades above him. I guess that’s why I don’t remember him.”

  “Right. But I had a crush on him in sixth grade, when he was in fifth. We’re only a few months apart in age. And…brace yourself, Sunshine, are you sure you’re ready to hear this?”

  I chuckled, still amused by all this drama. It was a lot of drama, even for someone who worked day in and day out with teenagers. “I’m pretty sure I can handle it,” I assured her.

  Her voice dropped to a volume that was barely audible as she leaned toward me. “He was my first kiss. Playground. Sixth grade.”

  “Oh,” I tried to stifle my laughter but couldn’t. “That’s sweet, Molly. And you’re still carrying a torch for him?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know what happened, do you?”

  “I guess I don’t remember.” My parents had always kept me pretty sheltered from the town rumor mill. My dad had worked in the city at a bank as a loan officer, having access to people’s financial data, and my mother was our school nurse, so she knew the medical history of every kid in school. They both had to keep client confidentiality in their respective lines of work, so no wonder they weren’t much for gossip.

  “I’ve gotta hurry because I have a program starting in fifteen minutes, and a few people are starting to show up,” she warned me.

  Good, that could only mean this story would be over with sooner. I felt like I was willingly watching a soap opera, and I detested soap operas! My mother made me watch them when I was a little girl, and I could never, ever understand the fascination with them or the devotion of their fans.

  “So, Mayor Steyer got married at eighteen, when he got his high school girlfriend pregnant,” she revealed. “That was Dylan’s mom.”

  Okay, that made sense, because I didn’t think Mayor Steyer seemed old enough to have a forty-year-old son, but if that made him fifty-eight, that was about what I’d estimated. I had an uncanny ability to estimate ages. If this librarian gig failed, I could always get a job at the carnival guessing people’s ages.

  “Anyway, when I was in sixth grade and Dylan was in fifth—not long after he kissed me, actually—his dad was caught cheating on his mom with his secretary. And guess who that was—”

  “Let me guess…Camille Steyer?”

  “Ding ding ding!” Molly confirmed. “And then Dylan’s mom packed him and his sister Melody up, and they went to live somewhere in the Midwest.”

  I frowned. “Okay, I guess I knew that. Wow, it’s hard to believe Bull Steyer got elected to mayor if he had an affair.”

  “Well, that was a long time before he became mayor. He was the City Planner at the time,” she explained. “And he worked at the university before that.”

  “Still…” Ours was a very conservative community.

  Molly shrugged. “I wonder why Dylan came back to town after all those years away? I hadn’t seen him since one summer he spent with his dad when we were in high school…”

  I watched my friend stare wistfully off into some long-lost fantasy that seemed to be happening in the vicinity of the circulation desk. “So, all of this was just to tell me he said hi to you?” Silly me, I’d been expecting her to have a point.

  “Yep!” She giggled as her focus came back to the library realm. “I always felt like he was the one who got away…”

  I patted my friend on the shoulder. “Okay, Molls. You better go start your program; there’s a horde of moms congregating around your desk.”

  “See ya!” She flitted off toward her side of our shared space and greeted her patrons.

  I had a program too, but it wasn’t until this afternoon. There was no way I was getting teenagers to come to the library before noon, not for a program. Now, if I were giving away cash or had a celebrity waiting to meet them…maybe. But for just me and some books? Um, no.

  I knew where I stood.

  I settled down at my desk and checked my email, then I picked up the phone and dialed the number I’d written down for Dr. Gloria Pink at the Martin McDowell Marine Biology Laboratory.

  Saying a quick prayer that I’d come up with something intelligent and believable to say—because I was totally flying by the seat of my pants—I waited for someone to answ
er my call. And then it connected. Only for me to be put on hold. Figures.

  A pleasant female voice came on the line only a few seconds later. “McDowell Lab, may I help you?”

  “Hi there, I’m Cynthia with The Bryce Beach Gazette. I wondered if Dr. Pink is available?” Oh my. Where did that come from?

  “Just a moment, please.”

  That’s it? She just…bought it? I held my breath as my phone rang Dr. Pink’s line. I wasn’t expecting to get through to her so easily.

  “Dr. Gloria Pink,” came her deep, smooth voice. It reminded me of our former library director’s, and I shuddered at first, especially considering my last conversation with her.

  “Good morning, Dr. Pink, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the samples from the dead fish that washed up on Bryce Beach that were sent to your lab for analysis?” I tried to sound as professional as possible, just like I assumed “Cynthia” from The Bryce Beach Gazette would sound.

  “Um, good morning.” She sounded a little troubled by my question. There was an awkward pause before she came back on the line. “I’m looking in our database of test results, and I’m not seeing anything for dead fish in Bryce Beach, but it’s possible it was tagged under a different name. I’ll need to talk to the researcher in charge of the other Bryce Beach study we’re doing to see if she knows anything.”

  “Oh, I see.” So maybe Evangeline’s ex’s colleague at the lab hadn’t been able to find anything under Bryce Beach, but it was actually entered under a different name. That made sense. Perfect sense. Maybe nothing suspicious was going on at all.

  “Do you think you could find out and give me a call back?” I asked. “Or even better, if the researcher in charge wants to call me back, that would be great. I have a few questions about the test results.”

  It took Dr. Pink a few moments to answer me, which I imagined was because she was scouring the database, trying to figure out where the results were. “The researcher in charge of our Bryce Beach water study is Melody Steyer,” she noted. “What’s your number? I’ll ask her to call you.”