He went to the side door and knocked. From inside, he heard a high-pitched woman’s voice call out. “I’m closed for the day.”
“Ms. Martin? This is Rick Atwood. I have a few questions about…what happened this morning. Would you open the door please?”
An abrupt response came back immediately. “Hold your horses.”
A middle-aged woman with narrow shoulders and wide hips eased open the door and studied Rick. “Sorry. I thought you were a customer. Come in.” She held out her hand. “Call me Jennifer. It’s not like we have to be all formal with each other.”
“Works for me,” Rick said as he shook Jennifer’s hand. He stepped inside, nearly tripping over one box as he sidestepped another. The place was a maze of boxes, aquarium tanks, and what appeared to be a glass display case waiting to be assembled. Rick had never considered himself claustrophobic, but it felt as though the walls were closing in.
“Sorry for the mess,” Jennifer said. “I thought I’d be all settled in by now, but my shipments were delayed and it’s been so hectic during the day I can’t seem to get all this stuff done.”
“You just moved in a couple months ago. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I had time budgeted to get everything organized. Then the mayor talked me into opening early—that’s when chaos took over.” She gestured wildly about the store. “So here I am, flailing away.”
“You’ll get there.”
“Some days I wonder.” She laughed again and gave Rick a friendly grin. Her straight nose was filled with freckles, and her brown eyes also seemed to smile. “You said you had some questions? I heard you’ve worked with the police before. Adam’s got you working Captain Carroll’s murder?”
“He asked me to help out. I hope you won’t mind going back over the statement you gave to Deputy Baker.”
“Nope. Happy to get a break from all this.” Once again, she waved a hand in a wide arc.
Rick made a mental note—keep your distance when Jennifer Martin is talking, she’s a hand waver. “Great. I heard you gave a statement to Deputy Baker, but I’d like to start from scratch. If that’s okay?”
Jennifer raised her hands to the back of her neck as though she were going to pull up her red hair, but it had been cut straight at the shoulder and there was not much for her to grab. With a sigh, she lowered her hands and fidgeted as though she didn’t know what to do with them. “Just chopped it all off and haven’t adjusted yet.” The light and cheerful tone of her high-pitched laugh reminded Rick of tinkling bells.
“I’m sure you’ll like the style once you get used to it.”
“It’s a lot easier to get rid of a bad hair style than it is a bad hire.”
“Sorry, I don’t follow,” Rick said.
“Deputy Baker. She’s a peach. Chief’s going to have a hard time undoing that decision.”
Rick wasn’t sure how to respond. If he even should. He scrutinized the store’s interior, unable to shake the irony. Here he was, in a bait shop, and Jennifer Martin had just cast out her line. He was not going to be snared that easily. “Adam and I always found it was helpful to have more than one person talk to a witness. That way we can compare notes and…”
She cackled. “You want to see if you can trip me up.”
“It’s not a test, but more of a way to see what details might come out with one interviewer and not with another.”
Jennifer puckered her cheeks as she seemed to contemplate his response. “What they say about you is true. You are smooth. And I’ll bet you get a whole lot more detail than Adam’s deputy. My worms are better conversationalists than that woman.”
Rick made a show of looking both directions before lowering his voice. He was tempted, but not willing to slip down the slope and become mired in gossip. “Tell you what. We’ll just keep that to ourselves.”
“Good enough.” Jennifer again reached up as though she were going to rearrange her hair and sighed. “Never realized how many times I did that in a day. All right, what do you want to know?”
“Tell me what you saw. Time, date, exact location.”
“If that’s what you want.” She went on to provide a detailed account of her morning. At the end, she added, “The marina is always quiet when I start. The serious fishermen are already out and the casual ones are just waking up. I should have been working in here on this mess, but couldn’t resist a chance to enjoy a beautiful sunrise. Got more than I bargained for. That’s for sure.”
“So none of your customers said anything? You were the only one to see the body?”
Jennifer snapped her fingers a couple of times, then she chuckled. “Come on, Rick. Keep up. Think this through. It’s dark when the commercial guys are getting ready for the day. And the tourist guys aren’t here yet. They’re still eating scones or whatever you people serve for breakfast.”
The tips of Rick’s ears burned at her friendly chiding. Adam had warned him. He just hadn’t really expected to become a target for her wit. Could she take a little chiding herself? He shot back, “Crusty Buns makes the best scones in town, so we try to avoid competing.”
She smiled, then patted her hips. “You’re right. As you can see, Crusty Buns is one of my weaknesses. I have a love-hate relationship with everything Angus O’Donnell makes. I love to eat it, but hate the results. So what else do you want to know?”
“Adam showed me his sketch of the area, and I saw the yellow tape out there, but I’d like to get your thoughts about how the body got where it did. Would you show me where you were standing at the time you spotted it?”
“Sure. I love to be outside. That’s part of my problem. I come in here and want to go out there. Once I’m outside, I have to guilt myself into coming back in here. At least this time I have an excuse. Let’s go.”
She led the way out the door, crossed around to the front of the store, and strode to a spot about twenty feet away. “Right there.” She pointed at the water in front of where the crime scene tape shook in the onshore breeze.
“Adam estimated the distance from the dock to be about ten feet. Would you agree with that?” Rick asked.
“Give or take.”
“And you said you started work at four?”
“Same time I start most days.”
“And you didn’t notice a body floating out there when you walked by?”
“To be perfectly honest, all I wanted was to get started, so my mind was in there.” She gestured at the Ugly Worm. “Not out here. Even later, you know, when I first noticed the body? I just figured someone was snorkeling. Then I realized he was fully clothed. That’s when it hit me—the guy was dead.”
“So it’s possible someone else saw the body and didn’t realize what it was.”
Jennifer shrugged, then let out a little huff. “Sunrise wasn’t until seven, so someone walking by prior to six-thirty probably wouldn’t have noticed it. You know how it is, most people just want to get where they’re going. For those who aren’t in a hurry, it’s easy to get lost in the atmosphere. The lines sway and clink against the masts. The gulls start circling overhead, watching for a free meal. But there’s a stillness, too. It softens everything. Kind of like a quiet musical interlude.”
“I didn’t realize you were such a poet.”
“Not really. All I’m saying is if there’d had been some sort of argument, everybody would have heard it. If there wasn’t one—even if the killer snuck up on Carroll and shot him in the chest without warning—there would have been noise from the speargun and a splash when the body hit the water. Nobody who works around here would have missed something like that.”
“How can you be so sure? People are working. They get busy.”
“I’m not saying everybody would have noticed it, but somebody would have. This little harbor and marina is a jewel, Rick. We’re all in love with this place and try to watch over it. If there’s trash in the water because some dipstick throws something overboard, we fish it out. We’re always in touch with what’s going on, e
xcept for when we’re not here. Somebody would have gone looking if they’d have heard anything like an argument—or a big splash.”
Rick sighed as he watched the water’s surface. “You’re probably right. Captain Carroll was a large man. His body landing in the water would have made a lot of noise. And it would take someone who was incredibly strong to lower him into the water quietly. So you agree completely with Joe’s theory?”
“There’s two things I like about it. First, the timing explains how nobody heard what happened when somebody decided to shoot Captain Dead Man with a speargun. And second, it also explains how he spent the night floating in our marina without anybody noticing.”
“Thanks, Jennifer.”
“Not much to go on, is it?”
Rick blew out a slow breath. Was that ever an understatement.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Alex
BY TWO O’CLOCK, even I’m bored. Robbie’s going on and on about boats and Sasha’s practicing yoga and dance. I’m the only one who’s still paying attention to The Treasure King. I have to admit, this is super boring stuff. All it looks like so far is that the two crew members are working on the boat while everybody else stays away.
“Alex? Are we gonna be here all afternoon?” Robbie asks.
“We’re on a stakeout. We have to be here.” I grumble.
Robbie’s not exactly a daredevil. Not like me and Sasha. He’s more of a homebody. Who likes boats. And wants to join the Navy. And now looks super sad ‘cause I snapped at him.
“Sorry, Robbie. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay.”
Sasha’s not watching us ‘cause she’s bent over backwards and kinda reminds me of a pretzel. Her bellybutton is facing the sky. She calls it a yoga backbend.
“What do you think, Sash? We still good?”
“For sure.”
Her mouth moves and the words come out, but I have to stop myself from leaning over to look at her. “Sash, do you know how unreal it is talking to somebody when their mouth is on top of their eyes?”
“Totally.” Sasha giggles. “That’s what you are right now.”
Me and Robbie look at each other and roll our eyes. He picks up the binoculars and lays down on the grass next to me. “So weird,” he mutters. “What are we looking for?”
“Suspicious activity. See the man painting the railings on the sides of the boat? It’s like taking him forever ‘cause he’s got this little brush and a small bucket of paint. He must not be putting much paint in the bucket ‘cause he keeps disappearing. When he comes back, it looks like maybe he’s cleaned his brush. Mr. Van Horn does that a lot when he paints around the B&B.”
“So that’s suspicious?”
I sigh. “No. It’s not. It’s boring. He’s made a couple of trips now to get more paint. Each time he disappears, he’s gone for about ten minutes. Then he comes back and paints some more. See the girl? She’s been doing things like taking out trash.”
“Wow. I hate it when I have to do that.”
“Me, too,” Sasha says from a different pretzel position. “Hey Alex, can you do this? It’s a bow.”
She totally looks like a bow. She’s holding her feet with her hands and has her belly on the ground. “I don’t think so.” I say and make a face at Robbie.
We both giggle and go back to watching The Treasure King.
“Why’s she got all the gear from the lifeboat out on the deck?” I ask.
“It’s something they do in port,” Robbie says.
I check out what’s going on through the binoculars. “It looks like she’s doing a major cleaning. She took three plastic bags to the dumpster before. Then she was mopping the deck, and when she finished with that she started on the lifeboat. I didn’t realize how much stuff there is to do on a boat. It’s like totally mind boggling.”
Robbie gets all serious for a second. “A boat is a lot of work.” He raises the binoculars and looks through them. “She’s got like food and lifejackets and blankets.”
“I know. She unpacked all that stuff, replaced some of it, and then packed it all back up. I’d totally want her in charge of the lifeboat supplies if my boat was ever going down.”
“For sure.”
It’s twenty after two. I wonder if Marquetta’s going to be coming by to check on us. She said she would. But maybe she got busy. There’s a lot of stuff to do in a B&B. Maybe working on a boat wouldn’t be so different.
My back is getting super stiff from laying on the grass on my stomach, so I sit crosslegged and look at Sasha. She’s doing a handstand. Seriously? On a stakeout?
Then again, maybe she’s got the right idea. This is the most boring stakeout ever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rick
JENNIFER RETURNED TO the Ugly Worm, which left Rick alone to watch the spot where the body of Captain Carroll had been discovered. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself walking by in the dark with the only illumination coming from the security lighting. Black water. Calm and quiet.
Would he have noticed the body? Hard to say. What if he and Marquetta had walked this way instead of to her bungalow?
The sun had set and there had only been a sliver of a moon, so it was conceivable they could have walked right by this spot and never even noticed anything unusual. Except that Captain Carroll was most likely still alive at that time, so there would have been nothing to notice.
With a last look around, Rick retraced his path to the marina entrance. He exchanged a wave with Joe Gray as he passed by Joe’s houseboat, but stopped when Joe motioned at him.
“Hey, Rick. If you want to talk to any of the treasure hunters, I just saw Will Shelley heading into Ocean Surf. You should be able to catch him pretty easily if you go there now.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that. I just finished with Jennifer. She thinks your theory is right on.”
“I was here early myself and I’ve got to tell you, the entire marina was quiet. Under those conditions, only a ninja could have killed Captain Carroll and pulled it off.” Joe looked to his left. “Uh oh. There’s Shelley. He’s in front of the store. Better let you go before he gets away.”
Rick hurried up the ramp to shore, then along Front St. to Ocean Surf. Will Shelley didn’t appear to be leaving, but just inspecting some of the merchandise on racks outside the store. Ocean Surf was small, but the store always did a brisk business. On most days the owner, Dennis Malone, set up racks of merchandise he tagged as on sale. In truth, Rick had seen the same things on sale for months at a time.
Shelley took a pale blue tee shirt with the image of a surfboard emblazoned on the front from the rack, inspected the price tag, then held it out at arm’s length. Though Rick didn’t know the man’s age, he’d place him in the sixty-plus category. His craggy face was heavily lined, but his hair was still full and looked to be a natural blond. Apparently satisfied, Shelley carried his find into the store. Rick arrived just as the dressing room door shut.
Along one wall there was a counter with surfing accessories—bags, fins, board waxes. Near that was a circular rack packed with wetsuits. Boards lined the wall behind the counter. The rest of the store was dedicated to clothing.
Rick waved to Dennis, who was rearranging clothing on one of the racks toward the back. When Rick pointed at the dressing room and got a thumbs up from Dennis, he waited near a rack filled with children’s wear. He found a bright purple tee he knew Alex would love, checked the size, and then the price. As usual, Dennis’s regular price was high, but the markdown significant.
“Would look great on Alex,” Dennis said as he slipped between a pair of racks to stand near Rick.
“You’re right, but I didn’t come in to buy.” Rick pointed in the direction of the dressing room.
“No worries.” Dennis lowered his voice to a whisper and chuckled. “Dude’s been messing up all my inventory.”
“I wanted to ask him a few questions away from the others.”
Dennis gave Rick another thumbs
-up, then gestured at the tee. “She’d love that one. That’s the tourist price—I got more in back. I’ll give you an extra ten percent off. You want me to hold it for you? Since you’re here.”
“Sure. Can we pick it up tomorrow when we do our shopping at the market? I’d like Alex to try it on first.”
“No problem.”
The door to the dressing room opened and Will Shelley came out, the tee he’d selected outside draped over one arm.
“Fit okay?” Dennis asked.
“Well enough. I’ll take it.” Shelley seemed unconcerned by Rick’s presence and lifted his chin in acknowledgement. He had intense blue eyes, a stark contrast to his heavily lined face. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good. Looks like we both found something. Mine’s for my daughter.” Rick handed the shirt he’d selected to Dennis.
“It’s definitely not your color,” Shelley said with a smile.
“I’ll ring you up. You two can talk for a sec.” Dennis took the tee from Shelley along with Rick’s and made his way back to the checkout counter.
Rick introduced himself, explained that he was working the investigation of Captain Carroll’s death, and then waited, watching Shelley expectantly. The other man apparently got the message—it was his chance to talk.
“Terrible thing about Captain Carroll,” Shelley said. “So are you a cop?”
“I consult with them. You mind if I ask where you were last night between six and nine?”
“Not a problem. I rented a car yesterday afternoon so I could go to San Ladron after dinner at the Crooked Mast. I have a niece who lives there. She just had a baby and I decided to make the most of our forced landing.”
“Leaving here after dinner, that’s a pretty late start,” Rick said.
“Not a problem for me. I usually work late. And I could always stay in their spare room.”
Rick eyed Shelly, not sure how much sleep he expected to get in a house with a newborn. “So Seaside Cove wasn’t a planned stop?”
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