CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rick
AFTER ALEX LEFT Rick’s office, he spent a few minutes questioning his decision. The bottom line was, as long as they could keep close tabs on Alex, everything should be fine. His shoulders slumped. Since when had it ever been easy to keep Alex under control? She had a mind of her own. He was proud of her and wanted her to grow up to be strong and independent, but above all else he had to keep her safe.
Adam’s entire plan depended on Marquetta’s cooperation. He might as well find out. Would she go along?
Rick found Marquetta in the laundry room loading towels into the dryer. At first, she didn’t hear him. He spent those first few seconds watching her. He studied the curve of her face. Listened to her hum a song he didn’t recognize. He even enjoyed watching the way she fluffed the towels in the dryer to make sure they weren’t all bunched up.
“We need to talk,” he said when she finished.
Marquetta jumped and put her hand over her heart. “Oh my God! You scared me to death. How long have you been there?”
“Not long.” He paused and took a breath. “Captain Carroll’s been murdered and Adam has asked me to consult. Adam also asked me about giving Alex a…a role to play. I hesitate to call it that because I want to keep her away from this whole thing.”
Marquetta’s eyes widened. “Let me get this straight. Adam wants Alex to help? And you didn’t tell him no? You can’t be serious.”
Rick ran his fingers through his hair and massaged the back of his neck. “You know what she’s like. This would be more of a diversion, I guess.”
When he finished explaining Adam’s suggestion and how he’d agreed, Marquetta said, “You know I’ll do it, Rick. At least that way I can keep an eye on her.”
“Thank you. I wish there was another way.”
Marquetta pulled a top sheet from a laundry basket she’d put off to the side. “Make yourself useful. Take that end.” They stood far enough apart to fold the sheet lengthwise. When they came together and Rick handed off his end, Marquetta spoke again. “I’m not saying I’m comfortable with the idea of investigating a murder, but I’m willing to go along, especially if I can keep her focused on another problem.”
“I don’t understand. What other problem is there? I’ve already talked to her and explained the ground rules. She’s okay with the limitations.”
“So she says. She’ll find a way to run around and question people no matter what. Actually, I saw Flynn O’Connor here earlier. She and Alex were talking. What if we give Alex a different puzzle to solve? One she’ll care about just as much and that will keep her away from the police investigation?”
“If you can come up with something like that, I’m all for it.”
“The treasure map. Maybe we could focus on finding out if there is such a map instead of Captain Carroll’s murder. That could help Flynn, and I’m sure it would interest Alex.”
“Great idea. Go for it. I’m willing to do anything that will make this easier for you and help keep Alex out of trouble. By the way, I know last night was difficult for you. I’m sorry about everything that happened in the restaurant. I can’t believe what a rollercoaster this has been. First, dinner turned into a shoving match. Now, the man who caused all the problems is dead.”
“It wouldn’t have been so bad if Adam had just handled the situation.”
“What could he have done? Everything happened so fast. One minute, Joe was upright, then he wasn’t.”
Marquetta pulled a pillowcase from the basket. Her jaw tightened visibly. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
Rick took her by the shoulders and turned her so they were face-to-face. “I love you, Marquetta Weiss. Every little thing you do interests me. When you feel pain, I feel it, too. Please, we’ve come so far. Don’t shut me out. What’s bothering you?”
With a sigh, Marquetta turned back to face the dryer and began to fold the pillowcase. No sooner had she finished than she unfolded it and tossed it into the laundry basket. “It’s stupid. Not even worth going into.”
“If it upsets you, it’s worth getting into. Just start talking, and let’s see what comes out.”
“It has to do with Pamela. I don’t want to badmouth her, so all I’ll say is that we were friends in high school, then something happened and we had a falling out. After she graduated, she left for college.”
“What did you two argue about?” Rick asked.
Marquetta retrieved the pillowcase and again smoothed it out on the top of the dryer. Rick gently took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t want to go into it. I really don’t. Look, we don’t get along, but she’s a police officer and I’m a law-abiding citizen. You’re the one who will be working with her, not me. So, I’ll just give her space.”
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
“For now.” Marquetta paused, then continued. “No. there is one more thing. Alex is pretty enamored of Deputy Baker. I’m afraid she’s put her up on a pedestal as some sort of role model. I don’t want to see Alex get hurt, so you should know this. Pamela’s always been very goal focused. If there’s something she wants, she goes after it.”
“So the argument was about a boy,” Rick said with a sly smile.
Marquetta rolled her eyes. “Peripherally. Yes. But, I’m talking about today. Watch yourself. If something happens and Pamela sees a way to make herself look good, even if it’s at your expense, she’ll do it. Alex won’t understand that yet, which makes her especially vulnerable to disillusionment. But you…you have more to lose.”
“I don’t see how she’s going to take away anything I have, so can you be more specific? Clue me in as to what you’re talking about?”
“Just keep your eyes open. Okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
He took Marquetta’s hand in both of his and kissed it. “I will keep my eyes open at all times. I promise, but you have nothing to worry about because I’m immune to temptation. I have everything I want here, and I’m not doing anything to jeopardize that.”
“I have to admit, Mr. Atwood. You are a smooth one.”
Rick put his finger under Marquetta’s chin and lifted. His lips brushed hers. When she pulled away, he said, “By the way, there’s something else I’ve been putting off telling you, but I’ve decided waiting is a mistake. I found a news story from the day your dad went to sea. I’ve reached out to the reporter who wrote it. His name is J.K. Keneally. I don’t know if I’ll get a response or not, but I thought it could be worth giving him a shout.”
“Why?”
“If you look at the photo of your dad and Captain Jack, it looks like there was something going on between the two of them. Almost as if they’d argued. Did Captain Jack ever say anything to you about it?”
“Not to me. I was ten. And my mom never said anything. To be honest, I don’t remember much from those days. Every once in a while I have flashes of a memory, but most of the time that’s all buried under the pain of losing my dad. My strongest memory is standing on the end of the dock in the rain watching him sail away. He stood there, waving to me from the back of the boat until the boat disappeared.” Marquetta choked back a sob and removed her hand from Rick’s. She swiped at her cheeks. “That’s my last memory of him.”
“Was Captain Jack there?”
“A lot of people were. It’s all so jumbled. And I’ve been through it so many times in my head that I no longer know what’s real and what…I’ve made up. I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”
“Maybe we can find you the truth. If that’s what you want.”
Marquetta hesitated, but then said, “It is. I think.”
Rick picked up the laundry basket and carried it into the kitchen. He set it on the countertop, then looked at Marquetta. “Let’s see what this reporter can tell me. Assuming the paper can even put me in touch with him. I’ve grilled you enough for one day.”
“Is that ever the tr
uth. But, you know, deep down, I think I’m finally ready to know what really happened that day. And that includes finding out if my dad and Captain Jack had a falling out. Maybe that’s one of the things that’s been bothering me for all these years. I guess what I’m saying is it can’t hurt to ask someone else who was there.”
The butler door swooshed open and Alex burst into the room, her eyes wide and a look of panic on her face. “Help! Mr. West just fell!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rick
ALEX LED THE way back into the living room where Mr. West sat on one of the gray couches next to Mrs. King, her hand stroking his arm and shoulder sympathetically. Standing behind her was Winnie Carston, and to her left was her husband, who was bent over Mr. West. The entire little group, with the exception of the man who had caused the commotion, looked visibly shaken.
Mr. West waved as Rick, Marquetta, and Alex entered. “Ah, I see you came back with reinforcements. Stephen came to my rescue right after you darted off. Thank you for trying, but as you can see, I already have plenty of caretakers hovering about.”
“What happened?” Rick asked.
“It’s really rather silly,” Mr. West said. “I have these floaters in my right eye. Normally, I compensate for them. But Dolores and I were walking through here when I saw one of those floaters whip by in my peripheral vision. Silly me, I thought it was a bug and tried to swat at it. I lost my balance and went down. Thank goodness we weren’t at the top of the stairs.”
“Do you need a doctor?” Marquetta asked.
“No. No. Nothing’s broken. The only real damage is a bruised ego.” He turned sideways and said, “I hate to say it, Dolores, but you’re now seeing the real me. I can be a bit of an old klutz at times.”
“You scared me to death,” she clucked. “Are you sure you’re okay? We could take you to the hospital for x-rays.”
“The nearest hospital is in San Ladron,” Rick said.
“We do have a small urgent care center,” Marquetta added. “If you have any pain, we should have you checked out. I could call the owner. He’d be happy to help.”
“Thanks to everyone’s quick thinking—especially this young lady’s…” Mr. West stopped and gave Alex an exaggerated wink. “I’m just fine.”
Rick shot a quick look at Alex. She’d said she was going to be in her room, which was on the second floor and down the hall. There was no way she could have heard Mr. West fall…unless… He sighed. She’d probably been right outside the butler door listening to his conversation with Marquetta. Given the circumstances, Rick decided to let the subject drop, at least for the time being.
Mr. West continued, “As I said, there’s no real physical damage. I might be walking extra slow for the next day or two, but that’s all.” He tilted his head sideways toward Stephen Carston. “Thank goodness for this strong, young man. He was able to assist me with no problem at all.”
“You got part of that right, William, but I no longer qualify as young. I’ve passed the big five-oh myself, and I have a desk job. Thank goodness I have a gym to go to. I’m not picky, though, so I’ll take any compliment I can get.”
“That’s my husband, modest to the end.” Winnie Carston looked at Rick and smiled.
There was something very comforting about her demeanor. He saw her as a calming influence in almost any situation—except those where she disrupted the norm. He still recalled their first meeting in which she’d insisted on everyone using their first names. In addition, she would not tolerate anyone calling her Winifred, but made it clear she was Winnie. Rick had tried to explain how they liked to use the guest’s last names as a sign of respect, but Winnie had pooh-poohed the notion with a backward flip of her hand.
“Rick—you don’t mind if I call you Rick, do you? My father always told me, ‘Winnie, it’s not what people call you to your face that matters, it’s what they call you behind your back.’ Now, I hope you’ll call me Winnie—all the time.” With that, she’d laughed deep and hearty.
Alex went and hugged Mr. West. “I’m glad you’re okay. I heard the fall and got worried.”
“You’re exceptionally lucky to have such a fine daughter,” Mr. West said.
The man was right. Alex was a fine daughter. And way too inquisitive for her own good. Nevertheless, he’d drop the issue of where she was supposed to have been. Otherwise, how did he tell her she shouldn’t have been present when there was an accident like this? “I consider myself a very lucky man.”
When Mr. West stood, he looked stiff and shaken, but he made a valiant attempt to reassure everyone, especially Dolores, that he’d survived his fall and was ready to face the day.
“It looks like you’re in good hands, William,” said Stephen. “Winnie and I will take our leave.”
Once Stephen and Winnie were gone, Marquetta said, “Mr. West, I’m sure you and Mrs. King have a lot you want to do today, but before you go rushing off, why don’t you let us bring a soothing cup of tea up to your room? I have a lovely hibiscus blend I hold out for special people, and I’m sure Alex would be happy to bring you both everything you need. It would be a nice opportunity to enjoy the comforts of home.”
He wrinkled his nose as he looked from Marquetta to Mrs. King. “I’m not a big tea drinker.”
“Oh, William,” Mrs. King tsk’d a couple of times. “I thought you said you wanted to try new things.”
Marquetta gave Mr. West’s shoulder a gentle shake. “I’ll bet you didn’t get to try one of our croissants at breakfast. I have some left over.”
“They’re awesome,” Alex beamed. “They come from Crusty Buns. Mrs. King, would you like to sit with him?”
Mrs. King put a hand to her chest and smiled at Alex. “How thoughtful of you, dear.” She then gazed at Mr. West. “If you’d like the company.”
“I would. Most definitely. And you’re right, I do want to try new things.”
“We’re good, then,” Alex said. “Mrs. King, would you like a croissant and some tea, too?”
“Some tea, perhaps?”
“Tea for two and one croissant in the Mainsail Room,” Alex said.
Marquetta cocked her head towards the stairs. “Rick, why don’t you escort Mr. West to his room? It never hurts to be cautious.”
“Good idea. Mr. West? How about if you let me get you upstairs?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Mrs. King said quickly.
Rick escorted the older man to his room, got the small desk cleared so there was enough space for the tray Alex would be bringing, then brought a chair in from Mrs. King’s room. By then, Alex had arrived with the tray. The entire routine was over in about fifteen minutes. As Rick and Alex left, he assured them that if there was anything either of them needed, all they had to do was ask.
In the hall, Rick said, “Kiddo, I’ve talked to Marquetta. Let’s find her and go over a few things.”
The first place they looked was the kitchen. Marquetta had set out two bread pans, the canisters of flour and sugar, eggs, and a colander filled with apricots on one end of the island. On the other, she’d placed three mugs.
“Looks like we’re all set for a little conference,” Rick quipped.
“What are we baking?” Alex asked.
“An apple bread, but with apricots. I’ve used the same recipe with peaches and it worked well, so I decided to experiment.”
“We have the answer to the apricot mystery, kiddo.”
“I told you, Daddy. Marquetta always knows what she’s doing.”
Marquetta frowned and looked between the two of them. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“When I saw all those apricots at the market, I asked Alex about them. She said you had a plan.”
“I also thought we might want a little tea.” Marquetta looked pointedly at Alex. “We need to set some expectations.”
“Can I have hot chocolate?” Alex asked.
“Of course,” Marquetta said.
“I can’t stay long
,” Rick said. “I’m supposed to meet Deputy Baker at the police station in a few minutes. Before I go, Alex, Marquetta and I are in complete agreement about how to handle this…situation.” He recapped what he and Marquetta had discussed, then looked at Marquetta. “You said you wanted to set expectations?”
“I do. And you need to leave.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.
“Right.” Rick went to the butler door and watched as Marquetta and Alex sat on two stools. They were almost eye-to-eye.
“My primary concern is your safety, Sweetie. I will answer any questions you have, but you have to be honest with me at all times and, if I tell you something is unsafe, you will do what I tell you or I will ground you.”
Alex groaned. “Okay.”
Marquetta stroked Alex’s cheek, then took a breath. “I’m sure you have a million questions. Where do you want to begin?”
Rick slipped silently through the butler door. For better or for worse, it was time to meet Deputy Baker.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Alex
MARQUETTA’S QUESTION SURPRISES me. Where did I want to begin? No clue. I wrap my fingers around my mug. It’s warm from the hot chocolate and makes me feel good.
“We don’t want to step on anyone’s toes,” Marquetta says. “And I was thinking there might be another way to approach this.”
“What’s that?”
“The treasure map.”
That’s what I was thinking! The map is what the treasure hunters want most. Well, duh, except for the treasure.
“Finding it could help Flynn do her job—and it might also help the police.” Marquetta lifts one eyebrow and watches me.
“So you think maybe somebody killed Captain Carroll for the map?”
“These people came here in hopes of finding the treasure. But to get that, they need the map. Captain Carroll claimed he had one, so perhaps that’s somehow tied to his murder. What about Flynn? I saw her here earlier. What did you two talk about?”
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