Dangerous Curves Boxed Set 1: 3 Cozy Christian Mysteries

by K L Montgomery

  “Good question. I still need to figure out how they’re all connected. Do Carlton’s parents know what’s going on, or is this being run by employees behind their backs? And…”

  “And?”

  “Well, now that I know for sure Dylan Steyer knows the Boxburys…I really think he’s involved in this too. I mean, we already know Melody is.”

  “And his mother said he’s between jobs,” Evangeline contributed.

  “Yes, and maybe this is what brought him back to Bryce Beach? Plus, his social media is weird. It’s so vague. No jobs listed at all. Nothing. Molly is friends with him, so we could see his full profile.”

  “His parents…surely they don’t know!”

  “I doubt it.” I wrung my hands, thinking about what a PR nightmare this would be for the Steyers. The mayor definitely wouldn’t get re-elected again if his son was running drugs through our cove, and his sister was covering it up. But it made sense. And the Steyers knew the Summers, and Melody was dating Daniel Summer. And he definitely knew Amanda Boxbury…maybe intimately. My fear that the wealthiest, most prominent families in our area were all involved in illicit drug trafficking looked like it was being confirmed.

  “So how are you going to prove all this?”

  “I don’t think that camera alone is going to do it. I mean, sure that’s picking up one end of the business. But what about how the drugs are getting into the traps in the first place? I already know they’re on the Boxbury boats. And I know the boats are in our marina.” I’d scrolled through all that footage from the lighthouse cam, and there was literally nothing but those people walking across the parking lot at two in the morning.

  Then I realized something.

  The limp. The shorter figure coming across the parking lot had a pronounced limp. I thought it was a drunk woman, but…

  Amanda?

  “I’m going on a stakeout tonight. But this time I’m going to the marina. This time I’m going to see who’s putting the drugs into the cages.”

  Evangeline just stared at me, blinking. Then, finally: “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  I understood her concern, but… “It’s probably not the best idea, but I have to get to the bottom of this. It’s driving me crazy. And they’re watching me anyway.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

  “What do you mean, they’re watching you?”

  Oops. I hadn’t meant to say that.

  I scooted my chair away from her desk and sprang to my feet. “Well, catch you on the—”

  “Sunshine!” she scolded me. “Sit yourself back down and let me help you come up with a better plan.”

  I was already halfway to the door by the time she finished her sentence. I practically had a PhD in Stubbornness. She may have been my boss, but she wasn’t in charge of what I did after work.

  “Say a prayer for me…” They were my only words as I flounced out the door.

  Sixteen

  My heart pounded with the impending thrill, even though I knew the next several hours were probably going to involve me sitting on my butt, getting bitten by mosquitos, and doing a lot of nothing but waiting. Still, the fact that I might finally solve this mystery and be able to take some evidence to the police was titillating, to say the least. I’d take it straight to Chief James. He’d know what to do. And maybe I’d get a story in The Bryce Beach Gazette again.

  I’d said goodbye to my kitties, giving them extra treats in case I didn’t get home until early morning. I was going to sit out here all night, and I wasn’t going to wind up on a Coast Guard boat this time. I parked my car in the high school parking lot. It was only a half mile or so from the marina. I knew they shut the gates at the marina after midnight, so I needed to sneak in before that, but I didn’t want to be trapped there if I needed to get away. I could run to my car and make a getaway.

  Ha!

  Me. Running.

  Yeah, I knew how ridiculous it sounded, but somehow it made me feel better.

  Fortunately, I’d spent a lot of time at the marina recently between dining at Josie’s, hanging out at the bar, and then boarding the Boxbury boat with Jada. And because of that, I knew exactly where the Boxbury boat slips were. There were three of them, and I knew The Mary Sue was being used to smuggle the drugs. I could only assume that, if they only used one boat, it would be the same one as before.

  My plan was to board a pontoon boat directly across from the Boxbury slips. I was pretty sure its owner wouldn’t be around, as I’d remembered it being there each and every time I visited the marina. I would hide out, and if someone came to the Boxbury boat, I’d be ready. I just hoped my hunch that they put the crab traps with the metal boxes in them on the boat during the middle of the night was correct. Otherwise, I’d be sitting out there all night for nothing.

  It was now early July, and the night air was thick and humid. The moon was playing hide and seek with some hazy clouds that stretched from low on the horizon to midway up the star-studded canvas of night. I didn’t see anyone at the marina. It was almost time to close up for the night, and the parking lot was virtually empty.

  I was guessing the folks with the drugs would come from the water in a boat. If it was the Boxbury people supplying the drugs to their own boat, they’d be coming from the south. Moon Point didn’t have a nice, big marina like this one. They only had the small one on a tiny canal that led to the seafood distribution center. It was too small for the big commercial fishing boats, so I assumed they brought in their catches on smaller boats at the end of the day. Maybe they made several runs back to the distribution center throughout the day; I didn’t know exactly how it worked, but I had studied the dock on the canal at their building on Google maps, and I was pretty sure this was not happening out of there.

  Besides, the entire Boxbury complex was enclosed in a gated fence. There was no way I was getting in there after hours, so I had to hope the Bryce Beach marina was where the action was. I’d seen the crab traps on this boat, and I’d seen Bob Summers talking to his cronies here twice now, so I was pretty sure it was.

  I was still thinking about Amanda Boxbury and whether or not it was her I saw on the security camera Molly’s brother-in-law set up at the lighthouse. The two figures were likely a man and a woman, dressed in all black and carrying large backpacks. I’d thought they were campers. But that limp. There was a chance it was her.

  Replaying the camera footage again and again in my mind, I hardly heard the motor of the approaching boat until it was almost to the dock. My heart had finally calmed down, but as soon as that rumbling engine sound and the sputtering water filled my ears, it raced off again, thumping against my chest like it was trying to make its escape.

  Calm down, Sunshine, I told myself. And then a prayer: Lord, I could use a little help here. Please let me figure this out tonight. I really miss sleeping.

  I held my breath, trying not to make any sounds at all, when I heard the thump of footsteps approaching. I couldn’t see, but I guessed they’d tied the boat and climbed onto the wood decking. I just needed to wait until I was sure they were aboard the boat, then I could change positions and try to take some video. I didn’t know how well my phone camera would pick up the action, but lucky for me, the three Boxbury boats were bathed in the faint greenish glow cast from one of the tall marina lights.

  I heard the boat across the way, rocking in the water, the waves splashing up against the sides, and I was sure that meant they were aboard. I crawled out of my hiding place behind the pontoon’s wheel and crept up the narrow aisle to the front. It was flat with a rounded bank of padded bench seats. I could crouch down in the arch of the U-shaped bench and get a pretty good vantage of The Mary Sue.

  Sure enough, I saw a pair of legs on the boat, and what looked like a black trash bag. I opened my phone and hit record, aiming it toward the action.

  And then…

  A pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind, forcing my arms behind my back. A rough, scratchy rope tightened around my wrists, digg
ing into my skin and making me cry out in pain as a dark cotton sack was slipped over my head.

  The only thing I noticed about my captor was the flash of a gold ring.

  Jesus, take the wheel!

  I was hoisted into a vehicle—no clue if it was a truck or van, but I nearly broke my leg from the climb up. My thoughts were racing so fast, I couldn’t grab on to even one. Right before we drove off, a hand shoved me and told me to be quiet. I realized they had taken my phone when they tied my wrists.

  Country music crooned on the radio, some song about beer and trucks and lost love—wasn’t that every country song? It wasn’t my jam, but at the moment, it was nice to have some sort of sound for my ears to cling to. It was a welcome distraction from the voices in my head, which sounded suspiciously like my mother and were all screaming at me about how she was never ever going to sleep again, I’d caused her so much anguish.

  My concentration shifted to creating a mental map of our route from the time the vehicle pulled out from the marina lot. I wondered how the people who came from a boat had a vehicle in the parking lot, but I couldn’t dwell on that question when I needed to pay attention to where we were going.

  I’d lived in Bryce Beach my whole life, and I felt confident I should be able to tell where they were taking me. The first turn was left out onto Mulberry. Then a right, which meant we were heading through town. Stop. Probably the light at Dogwood. Then another light. That must be Spruce. We lurched forward and went straight, then another left. We were headed toward the highway.

  The vehicle picked up speed, and I realized it was heading up the ramp to the interstate. I’m going on an epic adventure, I told myself as we sped down the highway. We had to be cruising at sixty or seventy miles per hour, and the current song was so twangy, it made my ears burn a little, but it was still nice to hear something other than my heartbeat rushing through me.

  I might have dozed off for a few minutes when the vehicle finally jolted to a stop. I heard a door slide open. Oh, yeah, must be a van. Vans are so good for kidnapping, right? I should have known all along.

  Well, God, You can see my night is not going so hot right now.

  I thought I’d gotten myself into a seriously foul pile of dung during my last case, but this was probably ten times scarier. And Chief James had no clue where I was—he was definitely not coming to my rescue this time.

  A hand wrapped around my upper arm—my wrists were still tied behind my back—and jerked me from the vehicle. I hoped they understood the concept of inertia because this big body was going to crash right into them, and it wasn’t like I could see where I was going or had use of my arms to brace myself.

  As suspected, I slammed right into them. My captor was evidently tall and very firm. I bounced right back like cubes of Jello dropped into a glass bowl. Watch it jiggle… See it wiggle… This is how I knew my mind was starting to deconstruct. I was playing commercials from the 80s inside my head.

  “Come on,” a gruff voice filled my ears, only slightly muffled by the fabric bag over my head. Another jerk and tug, and my legs got the message to step. I nearly stumbled as I tried to match the cadence of this apparent Amazon who had kidnapped me.

  I was quite certain there were two people at the marina, so I wondered where the other person was. Maybe he or she was just very quiet and walking right beside me. I sure hoped they’d take off this bag so I could actually see what was going on. It was getting hot and sticky in here, and I was sure my face would be partially melted into a puddle of goo by the time they removed it.

  If they remove it…

  A large metal door creaked open, and I was jerked again. A breeze blew across my skin—we’d entered an air-conditioned space, thank goodness. I was led across what seemed to be a concrete floor, and I tried to pick up on any clues that might help me identify where I was. The sound of machines whirring filled my ears, but I couldn’t tell what kind of machines they were. The temperature was cool, so there was that. And it smelled like a combination of fish, cigarette smoke, and…was that cologne? Ugh. Not a good combination.

  My first thought was the Boxbury Seafood building in Moon Point, but I was sure we went north on the highway, not south. It was possible I had inherited my mother’s sense of direction instead of my father’s, though.

  After a long silence, I finally heard footsteps approaching. I held my breath, listening for human speech.

  “Well, what are we going to do with her?” came the first voice—male. I wondered if it belonged to the Amazon who stuffed me in the vehicle and dragged me into the building. It was gravelly and deep, and definitely sounded like it could belong to a giant.

  “You told me when I agreed to this that there wouldn’t be any blood,” came another male voice. This one was much smoother, like a silky baritone.

  “She knows too much…” A female voice this time, high-pitched but not tinny. The tone had a youthful quality to it, but it was hard to tell much from four words.

  “If she would have just stopped when I gave her the note,” the silky baritone voice said. It reminded me of a saxophone, all jazzy and smooth. The other male voice sounded like a tuba. Maybe I can just pretend I’m at the symphony!

  “You gave her a choice, and she chose to keep meddling in our affairs,” the woman said. “She had the gall to go out on one of our boats—”

  Amanda? Was it Amanda Boxbury? Oh my gosh! My heart palpitated, fluttering in my chest like a wounded bird.

  “If we leave the bag on her head, we could just take her back down to the highway and leave her under an overpass or something. She didn’t see us,” Mr. Sax suggested.

  Oh, I liked that idea. That idea would suit me perfectly fine. Then I could just go about my boring little librarian life, and maybe my craving for excitement would be permanently satisfied. My mother would certainly be glad of it.

  I hoped they decided soon. I really needed to pee. My bladder wasn’t what it used to be when I was younger, and there was a good chance it would explode if they made me sit in this cold metal chair for too much longer.

  “Well, Boss?” The Tuba asked. I was thinking of him as Mr. T in my mind, though I had no idea if he had a mohawk and gold chains. My brain was still on its 80s kick. Next thing I knew, I’d be asking, “Where’s the beef?” or “Who shot J.R.?” And if you don’t get any of those references, you must be muuuuuuch younger than me.

  “You two are both such idiots. First, the Coast Guard screwing us over and having to dump a hundred thousand dollars of product right into the Atlantic!” the woman whined.

  Oh my gosh! The dead fish. The shark. The whale! She’d just confessed to murdering them.

  “I should have known I couldn’t trust Bob to make sure we were in the clear. And my husband is such a moron—”

  “The idea I came up with works better anyway,” Mr. Sax said. “No one should have had a clue—and if your idiot son hadn’t let those two stupid librarians on board—”

  “You mean your son?” the woman growled. “You’re calling your own son an idiot?”

  “What?” Mr. Sax fired back.

  “You heard me.” The woman started pacing in front of me; the movement caused the slightest breeze. I was becoming more attuned to my other senses now, and I could hear a radio playing somewhere in the distance. More country music. I wouldn’t have thought Amanda Boxbury listened to country, but…

  “How could he be my son? It was only that one night…”

  “Oh, come on, Dylan. His birthday is in March. I didn’t even meet Carl until August. Thankfully he’s never done the math.”

  I struggled to keep my jaw from dropping to the ground. Good thing I was wearing the bag over my head at this point. Though I was scared for my life, this unfolding drama was pretty top-notch. Like I could totally be watching this on Lifetime right now.

  There was no doubt in my mind at this point. This was Amanda Boxbury and Dylan Steyer. And if Molly hadn’t been so gaga over Dylan in elementary school, I’d never know. I
had solved the case. I knew who was running drugs across the cove. I didn’t know exactly where they were coming from or where they were going, but these two were in the middle of the supply chain, and I was going to bust them the first chance I got.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say something?” Amanda’s voice echoed in what I assumed was a cavernous space.

  “I…” Dylan huffed out a sigh. “I never would have guessed.”

  “Why do you think I kept in touch with you all those years?”

  “I thought it was because you wanted to be friends.”

  “I couldn’t tell Carlton. He would have divorced me—and he made me sign a prenup. That’s the whole reason I got involved in this. Yes, he helped me with some of the legwork, like ironing out the details with Bob, but the rest of this is my baby. My empire. When I make enough money, I can leave him—and we can finally be together—”

  “Uh, Mandy,” Dylan’s voice sounded uncertain, maybe even scared, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but—”

  Amanda fired back, “Are you telling me you don’t want to be with me?”

  There was a beat of silence, then light footsteps and what sounded like Velcro being peeled apart.

  “Amanda—no! Put that away! What do you think you’re doing?”

  “C’mon, Mrs. Boxbury, put the gun away!” came Mr. T’s thundering baritone.

  What? She has a gun?! Oh crud. What the flim flam am I supposed to do? Just sit here and hope they forget about me?

  Her voice came out shaky, vibrating with outrage and vitriol: “I thought you agreed to help me because you’re in love with me!”

  “Put the gun down, Amanda,” Dylan repeated. “This isn’t the time or place to discuss this. We can talk about our relationship later. Buddy and Sunshine here don’t need to hear about our personal life.”

  “Is this because of the limp?” she went on. “You don’t find me attractive because of my limp? Well, it’s your idiotic sister’s fault, you know. I wouldn’t have this if it wasn’t for her breaking my foot all those years ago! You didn’t even know I was pregnant with your baby when you decided to talk to that fat cow on the beach that night!”