“Yeah, I’m done, sorry. Just got sucked in watching TikToks.” She laughed and headed over to my desk. “What’s up, Ms. Baker?”
Anna and Liz Cooper had been in the library all day every day this week. I wondered if their parents even missed them. If they were this quiet and well behaved at home, they might not even realize their girls had left the house.
“How are you at digging up dirt on people?” I questioned.
“Like how much dirt?” Liz clarified. “Are we talking criminal records and other public info, or do you want to see bank accounts and get their phone records?”
I gasped. “You can do that?”
“I got you those other bank records, didn’t I?” She shrugged nonchalantly. She had no idea what a genius she was.
“I’m just curious about someone who works for the governor—it’s his deputy chief of staff, Robert Summer. Do you think you could find out if he has any connections to the Department of Natural Resources? And do you think you can find out how his son Dan met our mayor’s daughter, Melody Steyer?”
“I can certainly try.” Liz scribbled down a few notes on a pad of paper. “Give me a couple hours.”
“Oh, of course. No hurry!” I couldn’t believe how much easier having someone like Liz around made this job. I mean, not that it was a job. My real job was being a librarian. But I had to admit, my priorities shifted when it became apparent no one else wanted to solve the mystery of the dead fish. Just because we hadn’t seen any more for a week or two didn’t mean it didn’t happen, or that the ones we lost weren’t valuable and didn’t deserve vindication.
I was more than a librarian, I was a Fish Avenger.
Maybe I needed a cape?
“Hey, do you have a sec?” Jada peeked her head around the corner, startling me out of my thoughts about what to do for my next library program.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I gasped. “I thought you were on vacation.”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.” She approached my desk, looking fresh-faced and relaxed. Vacation will do that to you. “When can you leave work tomorrow?”
“Uh…” I glanced down at my calendar. “No more programs until next week, so I can leave early—as long as the boss okays it. Why?”
“Carlton says he can take us out on one of their boats in the afternoon after they’ve come in for the day,” she revealed, grinning.
“Oh…okay…” I didn’t mean to sound disappointed, but… Well, how was I going to see what sorts of things went down on a fishing boat if it wasn’t the real deal?
Her lips pursed as her head tilted. “What’s wrong? I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“Oh, I mean, it’s great, and being out on the water would be a lot of fun… It’s just, I wanted the grittier, smellier authenticity of, you know, actual fish.”
“I see.” Her face brightened. “Well, I can ask him if we can go out with a crew. I don’t think he wanted to offend our delicate sensibilities…”
I scoffed, my hands flying to my hips. “Do I look like there’s anything delicate about me?”
Jada’s face lit up, her mouth parting to let a peal of laughter escape. “You crack me up, Sunshine. Let me text him, and he’ll let us know when to meet him at the marina.”
I rubbed my hands together. Perfect. I loved it when a plan came together.
Before I could go back to thinking about the program, Liz sauntered over to the desk, leaned down over it, and put her elbows on the table. “So, you’re going to find this interesting…”
“I am? What is it?”
She handed me a stack of printouts.
I looked down at the thick stack and then back up to her. “Wow, that’s a lot of paper. You’d think I like reading or something!”
She laughed. “I think you’re going to find this Robert Summer character is not very…ahem…squeaky clean.”
Oh boy, the plot thickens!
I thanked Liz for her hard work and sent her on her way. Then I sat down at my desk and began to thumb through the pages she printed out. Some of them were newspaper articles. Apparently, Robert Summer was involved in a scandal when he was in law school. My eyes grew wider and wider as I began to delve into the torrid tale of a law school student turned felon.
Here was what I discovered: when he was in law school, he had a friend who worked in the registrar’s office. They worked together to change students’ grades—for a fee. Not just students in law school, but in other graduate programs and even undergrad. Apparently, for $500 a pop, they’d go in and change a D or F to a C or B. They only did it right before graduation records were audited, so it had the effect of raising the students’ overall GPA, plus got rid of anything nasty that might prevent them from getting a job or getting into grad school. And since it was done so close to graduation, it was a long time before their operation gained notice.
The newspaper clippings talked a lot about the scandal, but there was no information about how Robert Summer was punished for his crime. His bio on the governor’s website listed him as having a JD, but now I wondered if he ever actually graduated. That might also explain why he never practiced as a lawyer.
I flipped through the rest of the stack, and one thing Liz found were his transcripts from both his undergraduate career and the two law schools he attended. Apparently, he’d dropped out of State after the scandal. The graduate degree he actually held was a master’s in political science from what looked like one of those online for-profit universities—meaning his bio on the governor’s site was a huge lie.
But two things really jumped out at me from all the reading I did on Mr. Summer. One, his friend who worked in the registrar’s office, the one who’d actually changed the grades, was named Edward Dunworthy. That name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. But the real shocker was the name of their boss at the time, the assistant registrar—who was none other than William R. Steyer.
The mayor.
I remembered then that Camille mentioned her husband had worked at the university when we interviewed her the other day. That meant Mayor Steyer and Bob Summer had probably stayed in touch, and they’d introduced their kids—who were now dating.
Now, that name, Edward Dunworthy—it was sticking in my craw, so to speak. I started to google it, then I realized Liz had already done it. Gosh, she’s just so smart! What she’d printed out was a very familiar webpage: the Department of Natural Resources “About Us” page with Edward Dunworthy listed as the agency’s director.
Eleven
“Can I ask you a question?” Jada’s honey-brown eyes pinned me in place as we waited on the dock for Carlton and his company’s boat to pick us up. They had left the dock at Boxbury Seafood at 2 pm, and we were expecting them any time.
“Sure, of course.” I smoothed down my culottes, which were blowing up around my thighs. I didn’t care if they were out of style. They were comfortable, and I was pretty sure I looked cute in them and my nautical-style shirt. Naturally, I had to dress the part...the part of an author researching the life of a fisherman. I was pretty sure that required a healthy dose of nautical flair.
Jada’s nose scrunched up as she studied me. “Are you really writing a book?”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that question… And I didn’t want to lie to her. She was my friend. “Why are you asking?” I tried to keep my voice neutral and not defensive.
Jada sighed a long, breathy sigh, like she was about to admit something she didn’t want to admit. “I overheard you talking with Molly when we were on our outing to get ice cream, and it sounded like you were talking about the dead fish, the Coast Guard, and what’s going on with all that…”
Oh.
So my cover was blown.
“Alright,” I straightened my spine, “it’s true, but I don’t want the Boxburys to know what I’m up to, okay?”
“Why not?” She gasped, her hands flying up to cover her O-shaped lips. “You don’t think they’re involved, do
you?”
“No, no, of course not!” I said it adamantly, but it was more like I hoped they weren’t involved. I hadn’t found any reason to suspect them. No ties to Bob Summer or Mayor Steyer that I knew of…or this clown at the DNR, Edward Dunworthy.
“What, then, are you hoping to accomplish today?” Jada leaned against the railing, craning her neck to look at the boat approaching from the south. “I think that’s them…”
As the boat grew closer, I recognized it from my last trip to the marina, The Mary Sue, white with a navy stripe. “I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for,” I confessed. “I feel like I’ll know it when I see it…but it’s probably going to be out on the water.”
“You think you’re going to crack the case on the boat.”
I nodded. “Does that sound stupid?” I shook my head and sighed. “I know it does. I’m still new at this, and sometimes I follow my hunches instead of using my God-given smarts. Like when I went over to your place last month…I had a niggle in the back of my mind that told me I was going to blow the case wide open. I have the same feeling now.”
“I see.” Her lips tilted up at the corners. “Well, you were right about that last case…”
“I know.” A sly grin slid across my face. Not that I was bragging, but I’d been pretty brave to walk into that situation. The stakes seemed even higher now. I wasn’t dealing with people I worked with, people I knew. I was dealing with a big company, state agencies, federal agencies, the mayor’s daughter, and the governor’s aide. If I screwed up…ruffled the wrong feathers…I’d be toast.
My body might end up washed up on Bryce Beach…kinda like the dead fish that started this whole thing!
“I’m going to tell you something, Jada, and you’re sworn to secrecy, okay?” I still didn’t know if I could trust her, but so far, she’d been loyal. And she was doing this favor for me, right?
Her hands rubbed together, and an expression that looked like giddiness spread across her face. “Give it to me,” she wiggled her fingers like she was ready for me to lay a truth bomb on her.
“Alright. So…” I sucked in a sharp breath, watching The Mary Sue grow closer and closer to the dock. I’d have to blurt this out fast if I wanted to get her up to speed before our ride arrived. “The whale that washed up on our beach died from an opioid overdose—”
“What?” Her hands covered her mouth again. “How do you know? Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Yes, and I think the Coast Guard ships are out in the cove looking for drugs. I think someone is transporting drugs in and out of our marina. That’s my theory.”
“Wow, what makes you think that?”
I shrugged. “The drugs in the water?”
Her brows furrowed. “But that could have happened anywhere…”
“What do you mean?”
“Those fish and that whale could have been poisoned way out in the ocean, far from here,” she argued. “Just because they’ve all washed up here doesn’t mean they’re all related. The fish could have died from something else…and the currents could be bringing them to Bryce Beach. Remember…my undergrad is in bio?”
I huffed. I wasn’t expecting her to question my working theory, to blow it out of the water, so to speak.
“I still think something strange is going on—hence the Coast Guard boats. You said yourself that Mr. Boxbury complained about their increased enforcement. So I want to get out on the water, see if I can spot anything going on.” I opened my bag and showed her the binoculars I’d brought along.
“Okay.” She lifted one shoulder in a tiny, dismissive shrug. “I’m sure Carlton’s dad would know if something bad was going on out there.” She scanned the horizon, then her gaze trailed over to where the Boxbury Seafood boat was now close enough to hear.
The sound grew louder, and then the engines cut out as they began to idle toward the dock. I didn’t want to shout over the rumbling motor, so I grabbed her arm and said into her ear, “Thanks for arranging this and tagging along. It might not yield anything, but I feel like I need to check it out.”
“That’s cool. No problem.” She put her hands up as if to stop me from saying anything more as one of the Boxbury crew jumped aboard the dock just feet away from us and tied the boat to a mooring.
Carlton appeared out of nowhere, looking sharp in a navy blue polo shirt and shiny aviator glasses. “All aboard, ladies!” His mega-watt smile beamed as brightly as the sun.
“Hi, I’m Sunshine.” I offered my hand to shake. “Thank you for doing this. I’m hoping to get a lot of ideas for my stories. Do you mind if I talk to the crew and ask them a few questions?”
“Oh, of course, it’s no problem. Maybe you can make me a character in your book!” He gave me a dashing grin as he pulled Jada toward him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and squeezing her to his body.
“Yeah, maybe…” Presumptuous much? But, hey, at least I was here. I thanked him again and hoped by the way he and Jada were practically tearing off each other’s clothes with their eyes that they would both leave me alone while I went into super sleuth mode.
Next thing I knew, the engines were revving up again, and we were headed out to sea. Not going to lie, the odor was…well, it was rather nauseating, but surely I’d grow acclimated to it before too long. The sun on my face and the strong breeze whipping through my curly hair was exhilarating. I wanted to run up to the bow and spread my arms open wide, yelling, “I’m on top of the world!” at the top of my lungs, but I figured that would be way too cliché.
I had no idea what the parts of a boat were called other than bow and stern. I knew one side was port and one was starboard, but I had no idea which was which. I supposed this area I was walking around on was the deck? There wasn’t much to this vessel. The deck was long and there were crab traps stacked three high all along the sides. Then there was a little cabin where I supposed the captain was steering the boat.
A tall man in a faded blue polo shirt with a Boxbury emblem on it nodded at me as he turned toward the stack of crab traps. I took that as an invitation to strike up a conversation.
“Hey, I’m Sunshine.” I gave him a smile.
“Pretty name,” he replied, lifting the trap and moving it into position at the end of the deck. Then he came back and grabbed the next one. “I’m Chris.”
“Thanks. My parents were hippies.” I shrugged. “So…how many people work on this boat?”
“There are four of us today,” he answered, “besides you, the other lady and the bossman over there.” His head tilted toward where Carlton had Jada pressed up against the side of the cabin. Oh, boy, they aren’t wasting any time, are they?
“Looks like hard work.” I noted his muscles flexing as he lifted another trap and put it in place.
“It’s not that bad.” He didn’t look directly at me, just talked to me as he continued to move the traps. I felt bad for not helping out, but if anyone could figure out a way to screw up his job, it was probably me. I had a knack for finding the most awkward and klutzy way of doing anything. I’m contributing by staying out of the way, I rationalized.
“So, what are we doing today?” I asked. He didn’t seem annoyed with me—yet.
“We’re placing these traps and pulling up the ones we put down yesterday. With any luck they’ll be full of crabs.” Now his eyes met mine, and they were a gorgeous shade of aqua, nearly the same as the water stretched out before us. His skin was tan, and his fingers were callused and rough-looking. He had a blond goatee that was the color of straw when the light shone on it.
“Very good. Do you mind if I take a few pictures?”
“Suit yourself.”
Another man came from behind the corner with a bunch of ropes and what looked like large red and white bobbers. I pulled out my phone and snapped a couple photos of him getting the traps ready. The boat was aiming for the lighthouse across the cove, and I saw buoys bouncing a few yards out from the rocks where Molly and Murphy had hiked the day I initially discove
red the dead fish on the beach.
For a while I observed the guys hoisting up the crab traps, and, yes, many of them contained crabs, which they dumped into a large cooler in the center of the deck. Once I was pretty sure they were just performing the same task again and again, and I wasn’t going to miss anything important, I pulled my binoculars out and scanned the water near the horizon.
Another boat was anchored hundreds of yards away from us, and with the sun blazing a trail across the water, I couldn’t make out the colors or the name on it. They just seemed to be floating there, minding their own business, so there was probably no cause for alarm.
I moved in a circle, scanning for any other boats. I was secretly hoping a Coast Guard boat would come along and want to come aboard to verify everything was kosher on The Mary Sue, but they might get in trouble for Jada and me being here, so maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Though it might have given me a better idea what they were looking for.
As we headed back to the marina, I patted my phone to make sure I’d put it back in my pocket. I’d taken twenty or thirty pictures, but I doubted there was any good information. I just needed to figure out who would know about commercial crab fishing, and I could ask them to look at the photos and see if anything looked out of place.
Then I remembered that Tom, my colleague and a reference librarian, was the son of a commercial fisherman. I’d heard stories about his dad’s adventures on the high seas—Tom was known for his long, rambling stories. I might have to endure a Homerian-style epic if I asked him for help, but it might be worth it to know if anything I captured on film was noteworthy or suspicious.
I had a signal worked out with Molly so I could be rescued from my conversation with Tom if he got a little too rambly. Tom Watson had been a reference librarian for the better part of his life, and probably nearly all of my life, as he was at least twenty or twenty-five years older than me. He’d undoubtedly picked up several lifetimes of knowledge just from researching patron questions, not to mention his own eclectic interests in history, science, art, and technology.
Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries Page 26