Yep, I hurled on the Coast Guard boat. Yay!
Then, after I was sent to clean myself up in a bathroom so tiny that I could barely get my fat butt inside and actually close the door, I was ushered to another room about the size of a closet to wait until we got to shore. Where? No clue, but they separated me from Molly and Murphy, and they took my phone.
Molly was right when she said this could be an epically bad idea, but what was I going to do now?
Initially, the only thing they asked me was for my license. After examining that and having a good snicker over my name, they asked me what I was doing out in Bryce Cove after dark.
I answered, “Looking for crabs?” Then I corrected myself, “I mean drugs.”
When the Coast Guard officer’s eyes widened, I amended my statement once again, “I mean crabs.”
He cleared his throat. “We’re taking you to our base. We’ll have some follow-up questions for you there.”
I nodded. “Um, about the boat… It’s my brother’s, and I just…”
“We’ve already made contact with Mr. River Baker, the person listed on the boat registration, if that’s your brother. Same last name, so I’m assuming…”
The Coast Guard officers seemed duly amused by both of our names. I never realized how weird Riv’s full name sounded, but yeah. It was right up there with Sunshine Baker. Thanks, Mom and Dad.
We were docked moments later, so I assumed their base wasn’t very far from Bryce Beach. I felt like I should know where it was, but I had forgotten. Though, as soon as I stepped off the boat, I saw a sign that read Moon Point Coast Guard Station. Welp, there you go. Maybe I’d run into Carlton Boxbury III while I was here?
I did just inadvertently turn his company’s crab trap over to the authorities, after all, so he was going to be just thrilled that he’d let me on his boat. And who knew if his relationship with Jada would survive my meddling?
I wasn’t handcuffed or anything, which was a lovely gesture. I assumed, despite that nicety, I was still in very hot water. To keep with the nautical references, of course. I was flanked by two Coast Guard officers, and when I turned to look back toward the boat, I saw Molly and Murphy, also being escorted by a pair of officers, a few paces back.
If only I would someday have grandchildren to tell this story to!
“Okay, Ms. Baker, we’re going to start from the top again.” The investigator, who wore a blue jacket with a Coast Guard insignia, leaned down, his palms flat on the table where I was sitting. “Tell me what you and Ms. Simmons were doing out in the cove tonight.”
“Right, so, I… Well, sir, I have reason to believe that drugs are being smuggled in and out of Bryce Beach Marina, and I think it’s happening aboard a Boxbury Seafood boat.”
The Coast Guard guy smirked, then looked toward the window, which I was sure was one-way glass. I could only imagine what his Coast Guard buddies must be saying on the other side.
“Do you want to elaborate on how you came to this conclusion?” His jaw clenched as his green eyes stabbed into me. It didn’t seem like patience was his strong suit. At all.
“Well…” I was afraid of implicating anyone who had helped me, such as Liz Cooper and Evangeline’s ex-husband, so I knew I needed to be careful what I shared. I’d been wondering all this time how I could turn over the evidence I’d collected to the authorities, but, in the back of my mind, I believed they’d eventually figure this stuff out for themselves. Apparently, that hadn’t happened.
“We’re waiting, Ms. Baker. What is it you said you do for a living?”
“I’m a young adult librarian, sir.” I had already told them that, and I’d heard one of them snicker. Sigh. Librarians never got any respect. Maybe we’d get some when they realized I’d been doing their job better than them?
“I’ll start at the beginning, okay?”
“Please do.” He took a seat in the metal chair across from me, preparing himself for what he apparently thought would be a long, rambling story.
He was wrong. I could be succinct when I wanted to be. You had to be with teens because they often tuned you out if you rambled on too long. Short and to the point. I could do that.
“I was investigating the dead marine life that washed up. I hung out at the marina bar and overheard a conversation between a Mr. Bob Summer and someone else whom I’ve been unable to identify—he said something about crab traps and about not being able to help with federal agencies, only state. I recorded the conversation with my phone if you want to listen to it.
“Then I tried to find the reports at the two labs where the samples from the dead fish were allegedly sent. Both labs apparently destroyed the records associated with the evidence, but I was able to uncover that the whale was poisoned by opioids. Then I did some background research on people at both labs and connected them to Bob Summer. Through a personal connection, I asked to observe a Boxbury fishing boat and took photos of the crab traps. That’s how I knew where the traps were kept, and I suspected there were narcotics inside—since that’s what killed the whale. So I went back to pull up one of the traps and prove it.”
“So that brings us to the present time,” the officer said.
Breathing out a long sigh, I was finally able to focus on something other than his sharp green eyes. He had a tiny metal name plate that read WILSON. “Uh, Mr…uh…Wilson?”
“Mr. Wilson is fine.”
“I, uh…where is my friend? Is she okay?”
He nodded. “She’s being held in the next room. She doesn’t seem to have a very good handle on what you were doing out there.”
I tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sure she’s trying to protect me.” She was probably doing the “dumb girl” routine we’d discussed earlier.
“We’ll need that conversation you recorded on your phone at the marina.” The officer depressed a button under the table. “Crenshaw, bring in her phone please.”
Once I had my phone in my hand, I opened up my camera app and showed them the photos I’d taken aboard The Mary Sue. Then I found the video I’d shot at the marina:
Bob Summer’s voice spoke first: I can only help out with state agencies. I can’t help you with the feds.
The second man’s response was muffled. In my mind, I pictured him wiping his mouth, the napkin obscuring his voice.
Then Bob again: I think you’re right that the crab traps will solve our problems. I know that’s not my area, but I need to know we have a solid plan if I’m going to be involved.
The other man responded, but it was once again inaudible.
Finally, Bob said, I’m glad we have an understanding.
I explained my theory about Bob knowing Edward Dunworthy, the head of the Department of Natural Resources, and how Bob’s son was dating Melody Steyer, who had apparently destroyed the record of the fish samples from the state university lab’s database.
“The man with Mr. Summer. Do you have a photo of his face?”
“No. He had his back to me. I did see him walk in, though.”
“What did he look like?” the investigator asked, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it seemed like he was looking for a specific answer.
I conjured up an image of the man in my mind. “Business type, wearing a well-tailored charcoal gray suit. Early forties. Salt-and-pepper hair, more pepper than salt. Strong jaw. Clean-shaven. Deep-set gray eyes. Probably five-ten, maybe a little taller? Average build. He was wearing a gold watch and a wedding band…”
The look that spread across the man’s face was one of victory. “Is this him?” He opened a manila file folder he’d stashed on the table behind him and flipped through some paperwork until he came to a blown-up photocopy of a driver’s license.
The name on the license was Carlton Boxbury II.
Molly and I were reunited not long after I swore to an affidavit about the video I’d shot and my identification of Mr. Summer’s business dinner companion as Mr. Boxbury. Squeezing my best friend bosom to bosom, I realized what I was feeling
now was more relief than anything. Murphy jumped up on us, demanding his share of our affection. He thanked us with lots of licks.
“Are you okay?” With Murphy leading the way, we walked out to the parking lot, where my parents had agreed to meet us.
“I kept thinking we were going to be in so much trouble!” A long sigh depleted my lungs of all the breaths I’d been holding since we were first detained on the water. I finally felt like I could fill them completely full again.
“Me too! I pretty much played dumb the whole time,” she admitted. “I didn’t want anything I said to contradict whatever you said.”
“Smart!” I assured her. “They told me more than I thought they would…”
“They did? Like what?”
“Wait till we get in my parents’ car, then I’ll spill it.”
“Okay,” she giggled.
Of course, that was when we heard a shrill, “Sunshine! Sunshine Marie Baker!” echo across the mostly empty parking lot. Murphy barked in response.
Only my mother would use my middle name.
“Hi, Mom, Dad, thanks for driving all the way down here!”
“Let me have a look at you,” my mother instructed, holding her hand up to stop us before we climbed inside their car. “Turn around. I want to make sure they didn’t hurt one hair on your head.”
I spun in a circle. “Mom, it was the Coast Guard, not a bloodthirsty biker gang.”
“Still!” She gestured to me and Molly. “Oh, is this your new pup? He’s so adorable!”
“Yes, this is Murphy,” Molly answered in her proudest mom voice.
“Well, get in! It’s getting late,” my dad’s voice rumbled from the driver’s side.
Indeed it was. Already nine o’clock, which meant my parents were in danger of turning into pumpkins. I climbed in the back seat behind my father, and Molly climbed in on my mother’s side and put Murphy between us. We took the long, snaking drive off the Coast Guard base to the highway.
“Well, are you going to tell us what’s going on?” my father asked, his eyes remaining glued to the road.
“I borrowed River’s boat to check the crab traps for drugs,” I summarized.
“You did what?!” my mother shrieked.
“Hear me out!” I implored them. Then I launched into the entire story, everything I’d learned so far. After that, I added the details the Coast Guard investigator, Mr. Wilson, shared. “They said they knew about the drugs, but hadn’t been able to find them. Apparently the interstate, which is the normal corridor for drug trafficking, has fallen out of favor because of all the drug busts at the travel plazas. The state police are apparently on top of things farther inland. Out here it’s quieter. So they knew they were being moved across the cove, but they didn’t know who was shipping them and who was picking them up.”
“So how did the fish and the whale die?” my mother interjected.
“When the Coast Guard first started upping their patrols, they boarded a boat that checked out clean, but they suspect the narcotics were dumped overboard before they could be discovered.”
“Those poor animals!” my mother wailed.
“At least it was an isolated case. But that was when they apparently decided to move to the crab traps. So the Boxbury guys set them in the afternoon like it’s part of their regular day on the water, with the drugs secure in waterproof containers inside the traps, and then someone picks them up at night. They didn’t realize the drugs were in the traps until I came along. I broke their case!”
My phone was buzzing in my purse, creating a racket as it vibrated against something my keys. “Hold on a sec.”
It was Jada calling. With it being this late on a Sunday night, my heart began to race, wondering why she would call. “Hello?” I stammered.
“Sunshine, oh my gosh, the police just showed up and arrested Carlton’s dad!” she whispered. She must have been someplace where she was worried about privacy.
“What? Where are you?”
“I’m at his parents’ house. We had a family dinner and were playing cards out on the deck, and all the sudden, the state police showed up! Do you know what’s going on?”
Oh no.
Words caught in my throat as Molly grabbed my hand and squeezed it, a look of concern brewing in her eyes, at least from what I could tell by the glow cast from the streetlights. We were almost back to Bryce Beach. I still had to pick up my brother’s truck and trailer, and who knew what the Coast Guard did with his boat. It was probably impounded. He was almost certainly going to kill me.
“Sunshine! Where are you? What’s going on?” She cut out for a moment like she put her hand over the speaker. I heard muffled shouting in the background. And then: “I don’t know, Carlton! I thought she was researching for her novel!”
My stomach flip-flopped. Crudola. I’d gotten Jada in trouble, and I’d gotten her boyfriend’s father in hot water too.
Apparently the only people I’d pleased tonight were members of the Coast Guard!
After listening to my mother’s long and impassioned plea for me to stay out of the Coast Guard’s investigation, I finally climbed into River’s truck to take it back to my house. My mother insisted I’d already done more than my part, though she was the one who asked me to look into the dead fish and whale in the first place!
“Your mother’s right,” my father had agreed with her, which rarely happened, as they were diametrically opposed on nearly every other issue. “Be careful. You have no business getting involved with drug smugglers.”
“You think?” I rolled my eyes. Like I had any clue when I first started looking into the mystery at the marina that it had anything to do with drugs. It wasn’t like there was a flashing sign that warned me, DANGER: ILLEGAL DRUG TRAFFICKING AHEAD.
“I’ll have to come back for River’s boat tomorrow,” I told Molly. “They have it locked up at the fishing pier, and no one will be there till dawn.”
“I’m just glad we’re okay.” Molly smoothed down her shirt over her black capri leggings. She’d come dressed for a late-night boating adventure—I rarely saw her in anything but a dress. Murphy’s muddy pawprints decorated her thighs.
“What am I going to do about Jada? I didn’t mean to get her boyfriend’s father arrested!”
“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time,” Molly quipped as she buckled her seatbelt.
I stopped in front of her house, leaving the truck engine idling as she gathered up Murphy’s leash. “So, I guess I’m still trying to understand how this whole operation works,” I admitted. The wheels had been turning in my head ever since Mr. Wilson shared a couple details the Feds knew about this heroin operation. He did say it was heroin.
“What do you mean? It’s in the Coast Guard’s hands now!” Molly protested, sounding vaguely like my mother, right down to the squeakiness in her tone.
“They don’t know where Boxbury is getting the drugs,” I said, “or how Bob Summer is involved, unless it’s just trying to keep the authorities in the dark.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, of course it does!” I gasped. “At first I wanted to solve the mystery for the dead fish, but there’s something more at stake now. Our town is being used to traffic drugs, and I won’t have that. We live in a nice, sleepy, quiet, idyllic town, and I won’t have these evil douchebags ruining it!”
“Evil douchebags, huh?” Molly bit her bottom lip, apparently to keep herself from laughing at my outburst.
“Yeah, you gotta problem with that?”
She turned semi-serious. “So what are you going to do?”
“I have to figure out this puzzle. I don’t know.” My brain was trying to work it out, even as I spoke. “I guess I will pray, try to get a good night’s sleep, and see what tomorrow brings.”
“So you think Melody Steyer is definitely involved?” She opened the door but let it hang open, allowing the late-night summer breeze to rush into the cab of the truck. Murphy’s tongue wagged as he tasted
the wind.
I shrugged. “She’s involved somehow. And we know she’s dating Bob Summer’s son. So now we have to make a connection between him and the Boxburys.”
“We saw that Bob Guy with Dylan Steyer that night we went to Josie’s,” Molly reminded me.
“Right…and we know Bob and Mayor Steyer know each other from when Bob was in law school. I’m going to keep looking. Are they connected to the Boxburys, though?”
“Good question.” Molly drummed her fingers on the side of the door right below the window. “The Steyers and the Boxburys are two of the most powerful and influential families on the coast. Why would they get involved in drug trafficking? They’re already rich…so it can’t be for money.”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re rich because of…” I gestured in a vague circle to indicate everything going on, “you know.”
“They both came from rich and powerful families,” Molly pointed out. “The Boxburys are in their third or fourth generation for their business, and the Steyers go way back too. Not as far as Willa Bryce Monroe, but close.”
That was true. The Steyers had been in Bryce Beach for as long as I could remember. Camille also came from money and an old Bryce Beach family.
I needed to find out more about how the Summers, the Boxburys and the Steyers intersected. That was where the answers lay.
“You could bring down three of the most powerful families in the state with this case,” Molly predicted.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t know that the Steyers have done anything wrong…yet…”
I felt bad that I didn’t tell Jada what happened tonight, but she ended up disconnecting our call. Whether it was because of something that happened on her end or because she was frustrated with me, I didn’t know, but I assumed I’d be able to talk to her about it tomorrow at work.
I lined up my brother’s truck and trailer as well as I could on the street, hoping I wasn’t sticking out anywhere. Exhaustion was making me feel almost giddy at this point, taking over my limbs like I was swimming through Jello to get to my front door.
Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries Page 28