"About what?"
"I just want to tell my side of things."
"Fine."
"I'm off at seven. Can you come to the marina?"
I knew he was picking a location far from home because a certain someone would never let us talk in peace. "Yes, I'll be there."
"Thanks."
I stared at the phone a second. I had no idea what he could possibly say to make his side of the coin shiny, but I had to at least give him a chance.
Chapter 33
Hilda was taking down the red, white and blue streamers hanging along the front counter. She made an attempt to spruce up the drab, pedestrian front desk at every holiday. I thought it was cute.
I grabbed a fluttery end of the streamer and helped her roll it up. "I think Detective Briggs is expecting you."
"Great."
Hilda had the gate to the office propped open with her chair. I handed her the roll of streamer and walked through to Briggs' office. During the short journey across the street to the station, I'd gone back and forth mentally several times about whether or not to tell Briggs about my meeting with Dash. I never came to a solid decision.
I knocked on the door.
"Come in," Briggs called.
He stood up with a smile. It felt like things were back to the way they were before Olivia showed up. "How was lunch with the parents?"
I nearly leapt into the embarrassing narrative about lunch with Mom and Dash in the same diner but then reminded myself Briggs probably wouldn't find it amusing or entertaining. "It was great. I think my Dad is secretly planning to ditch my mom and run off with Franki and her chili and cornbread."
"Franki does hold a magic spell over most of us with that chili, cornbread combo. You said your mom is a great cook. I'm sure she has a few magic spells of her own."
"Not with chili and cornbread. Although I'd bet any amount of money that when she gets home she'll make chili and cornbread just to show him he was making a big deal about nothing." I sat in the chair. "You said you had some news on the case."
"Yes I do." He opened a file folder on his desk, pulled out a picture and spun it around. It was a gun inside an evidence bag. Even though I'd only seen it for a few moments in a velvet lined box, I could tell it was Jenny's Colt.
"That's the commemorative gun from Jenny's collection. How? Where?"
"Ivan Perez, the old guy who combs the beach every week with his metal detector was running the device close to shore. It beeped like crazy and he followed it. The gun was mostly buried in the sand right where the water breaks."
I pushed the picture back to him. "That's it then. You have the murder weapon. Jenny's inherited antique Colt."
"Yes. We don't know for certain if the person who stole the gun was standing in the room that day, but I went back to the house this morning and checked for signs of forced entry. I didn't find anything. The thief would have had to know exactly where Jenny stored the gun."
I tapped the arm of the chair with my fingers. "If it was one of the three people in the room, then Percy had to be the killer because Molly and Carla have alibis."
"That's where my mind was going. He also had a stronger motive than the two women. Only I didn't get a strong sense that Percy was angry at Jenny. Even with the fence issue. We've got the weapon, but I still have a weak case. Not sure why this one feels so disjointed."
I bit my lip as I tried to decide whether or not to mention my latest theory. He knew me too well.
"You've got something on your mind, Miss Pinkerton." When we first started working together he insisted on calling me Miss Pinkerton. He kept up the habit whenever I was assisting him on a case. I'd grown to like it. Especially when he used it in a sort of fun way, like now.
"Well, Detective Briggs, I've got an outlandish idea. Only, the more I mull it over, the less outlandish it seems. It also doesn't help solve the murder."
"Go ahead," he prodded. "I'll take anything at this point."
"To explain this right I have to start back at those matching hats. You know Jenny's patriotic, rhinestone bedazzled cap?"
"Yes, it's in the evidence room. Nate said she fell and hit her head after the gunshot. That's why she had a mark on her forehead, and her hat was damaged too."
"Like I told you, she bought the hat from Kate Yardley. Kate told her it was one of a kind and then proceeded to sell one almost exactly like it to Molly. Molly showed up at the garden club meeting with the hat. Jenny was quite distraught that she was going to be wearing the same hat to the festival. Particularly because Kate told her it was unique."
Briggs nodded. "Sounds like Kate."
"Jenny confronted Kate about it but Kate fluffed it off. She said there were differences in the rhinestones and size of the stars or something like that, so technically, they were one of a kind." I rolled my eyes to let him know how I felt about Kate's sales technique.
Briggs leaned back on his chair. "You don't think Kate had anything to do with Jenny's murder?"
"What? No. Not at all. Kate does her own thing. She's not exactly friendly, but she didn't kill Jenny. Anyhow, Jenny and Molly decided they couldn't possibly both wear the hat to the festival."
It was his turn to roll eyes.
"I know. I thought it was silly too, but they made a promise to each other to not wear the hat on the fourth. Naturally, they both showed up wearing the hats."
"Of course. So you think Molly was mad that Jenny wore the hat? That's almost weaker than the pie scandal motive."
"I agree. But that's not my theory." I sat forward. "What if the wrong person was killed? What if the bullet was meant for Molly and not Jenny?"
Briggs rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he contemplated my suggestion. "They are about the same size and if they were both wearing the same hat . . ."
"Jenny was shot in the back so the killer might have thought it was Molly."
I startled when he slapped his desk. "And Molly was supposed to be in the booth at that time but she never showed up."
I nearly jumped from my chair. "Wow, I forgot that detail. That makes my theory even stronger." I reached back and patted myself on the shoulder.
"Good job on that, Pinkerton." He stared down at the file on his desk. "But that makes it even harder to find the killer because we don't know for sure that the wrong person was shot. Why would someone want to shoot Molly?"
"Hmm, good question. Although, she is far less likable than Jenny." I snapped my fingers. "Molly was terrible to Carla at the garden club meeting. She humiliated her in front of all of us because Carla had planted dahlias in her garden. The dahlias were already blooming and Molly said garden club members should always plant from scratch."
Briggs' forehead rose. "So no one can wear the same hat and no planting flowers in the garden unless they come from seeds. Are you certain this is a good club for you?"
"It's not a club at all without Jenny. All I know is that Molly went out of her way to be rude and mean to Carla. Jenny came to Carla's rescue, but I could see there was no love between Molly and Carla."
"There's a slim motive there but we're back to Carla having an alibi. She was with her husband and neighbors during the fireworks show. The garden club booth was in a remote location. It had been a special request from Jenny. She preferred the booth be under a tree and away from the press of the crowd. But even so, it would be impossible for someone to shoot a gun and not be heard unless there was a loud noise like fireworks to mute it."
"Those alibis sure do get in the way of solving cases, don't they? So it's back to the original—Jenny the victim. Percy the killer."
"It seems so."
"I should get back to the shop. Thanks for filling me in on the gun discovery."
"And thank you for the wrong victim theory. It was a good one."
I stood up. "Even though it didn't lead us anywhere."
"You never know." He got up to walk me to the door. My earlier mind debate about Dash came back to me. I decided not letting Briggs kn
ow was almost like lying to him.
"James." I always knocked him off balance by saying his name. This time was no different. I might have done it to let him know something big was coming. Or maybe it was because the topic wasn't anything to do the investigation. Or maybe I just liked the way it sounded. For whatever reason, I had his full attention so there was no turning back. "Dash texted me. He must've realized that I know about Olivia. The truth is I saw them having coffee together in Mayfield." I waited for some kind of reaction but didn't get one. I was absurdly glad that he didn't seem to care that they'd met for coffee. "Anyhow, he wants a chance to tell his side of the story." There was the reaction I'd been looking for. A hint of anger in those otherwise calm brown eyes. "I told him I'd listen. I just wanted you to know."
Briggs nodded once. "Thanks for telling me." He was trying hard to stay true to his promise to not always react negatively to my friendship with Dash. That friendship was on such a thin, fragile thread, it was more of an acquaintance at the moment. "I'll see you later. What will you do next in the investigation?"
"Jenny's sister is in town. I'm meeting her at Jenny's house and hoping she can shed some light on the case. Not holding out for too much though. She's been living in Australia these past ten years. They only saw each other once a year."
"Yes, that doesn't sound too promising. But I'm glad Jenny has someone here now. It's such a lonely thing to die without family around."
"I agree." He walked me out to the front office. I turned to smile at him and thought right back to that kiss I never got. Darn Olivia the X and her bad timing.
Chapter 34
After a long day at work and a quick dinner at home with my parents, I pulled my bicycle out for a ride to the marina to see Dash. With the long summer hours, I'd have plenty of time to get back home before dark. I didn't plan on staying long. There just couldn't be that much for him to say. I didn't dare tell Mom that I was meeting him. She was angry enough with Dash that she hadn't even mentioned him once at dinner.
I pedaled down Harbor Lane. It felt refreshing to ride in the cool of the evening. Most of the shops were closed and there was sparse traffic. Lola and Ryder had gone to dinner so her shop was dark and locked up like mine. Briggs' car was still parked in front of the station. He was working late again. I hadn't told him I was meeting Dash at the marina. The less details the better. I sensed he wasn't exactly thrilled about my talk with Dash but he seemed to understand why I'd agreed to it.
I hadn't left my house until seven, figuring I'd make Dash wait a bit. He was sitting on the bench across from the bicycle rentals looking a little lonely. He was rarely sad, but I saw it in his face as I pushed my bike along the pier. As I passed the ice cream shop, the door opened and Carla's husband, Vernon, almost raced out. He glanced around quickly sending the intense smell of his sun block through the air. I said hello but he walked past with his head down as if he hadn't seen me. Or as if he didn't want me to see him. Maybe Carla didn't like him eating ice cream. He was a nervous man, that was for sure.
"Sunset is going to be nice tonight," Dash said as I walked up.
I glanced out toward the water. A thin layer of clouds had painted the sky gray and pink like watercolors. I leaned my bike against the railing and sat next to him.
"Thanks for coming."
"I'm always one to listen to both sides of a story," I said. "Just not sure what you can say to flip this your direction."
He sat forward and rested his arms on his thighs, then leaned back. "Actually, can we walk? I'm feeling kind of fidgety."
"I noticed." I stood to let him know I was game for a stroll. Right then, the heavy, sweet smell of ice cream filled the air as the door swung open. This time Molly walked out. She looked around too but was far less agitated than Vernon.
"Hello, Molly," I called across the pier.
Her eyes swung around to find the voice. "Oh, hello, Lacey." She took a moment to shine a smile at Dash and then hurried off.
"Must be a good night for ice cream," I said, but Dash's mind was elsewhere.
We walked toward the marina where most of the boats had already docked for the night. Out at sea, a gray smudge of smoke had marred the colorful sunset. Burt Bower and his painfully loud fishing boat were rolling into shore. Like clockwork, just as Briggs had said.
The noise pulled our attention out to sea for a second. "It's a wonder he can catch any fish at all," I said. "If I were a fish, I'd be terrified if I heard that monstrous boat."
Dash smiled. His usual easy laugh seemed to be hiding this evening. "I'm sure Briggs told you about Olivia and me."
"He mentioned it." I added just enough chill to my tone to let him know how disappointed I was in him.
"I have no defense for it. Briggs and I were friends in high school. Good friends. I looked up to him. He was a great quarterback, a great student, an all around popular guy. I envied everything about him. He was just smooth and easy going no matter what. I think, deep down, I wasn't just envious but jealous. I could never be him."
"Oh come on, Dash. Are you kidding? Every head turns when you walk down the street. You've got the charm to go with the looks. How could you possibly have been jealous?"
"Because Briggs just had that whole cool thing going that I could never figure out how to replicate. And he had Olivia. I'd had a crush on her for a couple of years, but she only had eyes for Briggs. He got so busy in the police academy he didn't have much time for her and she started calling. We hung out together. I still had a crush on her. I should have just said no. But I didn't. I was only nineteen. All those feelings, envy, jealousy, crushes disappeared once I realized I was my own person and that I didn't need to strive to be anyone else. Guess it just took me a long time to mature."
"Only a man truly comfortable in his own skin would admit to that, Dash. I understand that this all happened when you guys were young and—" I paused because my voice was drowned out by the thunderous clatter of Burt Bower's boat.
Dash motioned for me to follow him farther away from the noise. People on the pier and in the marina were shooting Bower angry glares, but he just moseyed into the slip, taking his time to get the boat in just right.
Dash and I walked along and reached the grassy knoll near the tree where the garden club booth had sat when Jenny was shot. The clamor from Bower's boat still made it hard to hear each other but we talked loudly.
"Like I said, I can forgive the teenage Dash. It's not me you hurt. It's Briggs. He's the one who needs to hear this." Bower finally turned off the engine. The tension in my shoulders fell along with the noise. "Isn't there anything you can do to fix his boat?" I asked.
"Yes but he's too cheap to hire me. He keeps fixing it himself. And you're right about that. I should talk to Briggs, offer an apology of sorts, but things are still too strained between us. The arrival of the very appealing town florist didn't help that much either."
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about me. "What do I have to do with that?" My attention was caught by a man, another boat owner, shouting at Bower on the pier. It seemed people had every right to complain. It was so loud it drowned out every noise within a mile radius.
"Oh my gosh, Bower's boat." In my excitement, I grabbed Dash's arm. I released it quickly.
Dash looked back at the marina. "It's turned off now. The smoke always hangs around until the breeze carries it off."
"No, that's not what I meant. Dash, if I fired a gun right here while Bower was pulling into the marina, do you think anyone could hear it?"
He laughed. "I think you could shoot a canon from this hillside and no one would hear it over that boat."
"Exactly." I clapped quickly. "I think you just helped me with a major revelation about the murder case."
"Great. At least I scored on that. About what I was saying earlier, Lacey."
"It's all right, Dash. We can still be friends. I've just got a slightly different view of you than I had before. But everyone makes mistakes." I smiled up at him. "Some
times even really big mistakes." I hated to cut off our conversation. I knew somewhere in there he had thrown in something about the new girl in town, namely me, but I had a murder to solve.
"I can see you're ready to take off. I've got the truck if you want to throw your bike into the back, I can give you a ride home." We headed back to the pier where I'd parked my bicycle.
"Actually, I need to stop by the station and talk to—"
"Briggs," he filled in for me. "You don't have to be so secretive or hesitant about it. I know who the better man was this time—again. Now that I'm wizened and mature, I accept defeat much more readily. I take some comfort in knowing your mom thought I was the better match. She might have mentioned it in passing. Actually not in passing. She told me straight out."
"Ugh, my mom. And, by the way, about that—" This time my hesitation was not going away. He seemed genuinely pleased to have garnered my mom's approval, and I hated to burst that bubble. He deciphered my pause on his own.
"So she knows too?"
I half smiled.
"Great. Think I'll go hibernate in my house until the stink of my past wears off."
"Mom doesn't hold grudges long. One of your captivating smiles and a warm hello will probably do the trick. She's sort of a pushover for handsome, charming men. Guess most of us are." I reached my bike. "I'm glad we talked, Dash. Living right next to each other, I think it's important to stay friends."
"I agree, Lacey. Thanks for letting me talk. Be careful on the way home. It's getting dark."
"I will. See you later."
Chapter 35
I rounded the corner and was relieved to see that Briggs was still in the office. Hilda and Officer Chinmoor had gone home for the night, so I texted him to let him know I was out front.
He walked out of his office. I was happy to see him not just because of my brilliant new theory but . . . just because I was happy to see him.
"Lacey." He looked past me and saw my bike leaning against the light pole. "It's getting dark. You rode your bicycle down to the beach at night?" He stepped out of the way to let me pass.
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