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Catch of the Dead (A Hooked & Cooked Cozy Mystery Series Book 5)

Page 8

by Lyndsey Cole


  “Don’t worry, someone will have too much to drink, climb on the roof, and restore the sign to its infamous nature,” Meg said. “It’s impossible for Michael to keep up with his customers’ pranks, but he did install a security camera to try to scare away the scoundrels.”

  Hannah waited for Samantha to get out so she could squeeze around the front seat. She straightened, twisted from one side to the other, and felt her back pop.

  “Don’t say anything about riding in the back or you’ll be walking home,” Meg warned.

  Hannah bit her tongue but she wondered if walking might be preferable to a return trip in Meg’s rust bucket. She’d make that decision when it was time to leave.

  “Looks like a medium crowd for a Saturday night,” Meg said as she led the way to the door and opened it. “Age before beauty,” she said to Samantha.

  “Darn tootin’, my dear.” Samantha sashayed inside as if she owned the place. She primped her hair and scanned the pool hall looking for her prey like a cheetah on the prowl.

  Meg linked her arm through Hannah’s. “Lighten up and enjoy yourself. I know you’re still trying to sort out all this murder stuff plus deal with, you know, your mystery guest,” she whispered conspiratorially, “but try to relax and go with the flow.”

  Hannah nodded. “Good advice. Let’s get a couple of beers and see where the night brings us.”

  Meg slapped Hannah on her back. “Now you’re talking. Hey, Michael, two Sam Adams for your two favorite girls.”

  “What about Samantha?” Michael asked.

  “She can take care of herself.”

  Meg slid onto a barstool near the quiet end of the room and Hannah sat next to her.

  “How are you, Hannah? You haven’t honored me with your presence for a while. But I’ll forgive you.” Michael expertly slid two beers down the glossy bar. One stopped in front of Meg and the other in front of Hannah. He beamed with pride. “That trick took me years of practice to perfect.”

  Hannah sipped her beer before she casually scanned the room. She was shocked to see Moe and Karla at the pool table. Moe had the happy face of someone who’d downed a few too many beers, but Karla looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Florida, or with Rory for starters.

  Meg jabbed Hannah with her elbow, almost causing a big spill.

  “What’s that for?” Hannah moved her arm away from another potential attack.

  “Look who Samantha’s talking to.” Meg nodded her head toward the far corner of the hall. “And don’t stare.”

  Hannah twirled her barstool partway around so she was mostly facing Meg but could see the rest of the hall from the corner of her eye. What met her eye made her choke on her mouthful of beer. She hissed, “My father? What’s he doing here?”

  “The bigger question is, what the heck is Samantha doing? Is she flirting with him?”

  Michael reached under the bar and gave Meg a small mirror. “Use this if you want to see what’s going on.”

  “Clever, brother,” Meg said. “She took the mirror and pretended to check her nonexistent makeup. “Can I ask you a question about your parents?”

  “Sure,” Hannah answered.

  “Is their marriage solid?” Meg’s eyebrows shot up as she waited for Hannah’s reply.

  Hannah shrugged. “As far as I know.” She leaned close to Meg to look in the mirror. Her hand covered her mouth but a snort snuck out. “Samantha is doing a number on my dad. Ewww. Really? Don’t touch his hair,” Hannah said as if Samantha could hear her.

  Meg lowered the mirror. “Do you think Samantha has lost her mind? She does know who she’s flirting with, doesn’t she?”

  Hannah drained half of her beer. “She’s hoping to teach him a lesson about life.”

  “That should be interesting.” Meg chuckled.

  “Yeah, teach him that he can’t always get his way.” Hannah slid off the barstool. “Let’s see if we can break into that game of pool.”

  Meg hip-checked Hannah. “Glad you’ve got your game face on finally.” They walked toward the pool table. “Hey, ready for a little competition?”

  Moe looked up and grinned at Hannah. “Always.”

  Karla’s eyes darted between Moe and Hannah. “I’m getting a beer.”

  “Great,” Meg said. “It’s you and me then, big boy.” Meg slapped Moe on the back. “My friend can keep your friend company.”

  Karla was already at the bar waiting for her beer by the time Hannah sat next to her. “I’ll have another Sam Adams, Michael.”

  “Don’t tell me I told you so,” Karla mumbled more to her beer than to Hannah. “Moe’s a jerk.”

  “Why are you here with him then?”

  “I’m not here with him. I’m searching for answers. Rory hasn’t been charged yet but the police have him locked up. What’s up with that?”

  “He can be held for forty eight hours without any charge but he needs a lawyer. A good one,” Hannah said as gently as possible.

  “Right. He has no money for a lawyer, good or bad.”

  Hannah covered Karla’s hand with her own. “I’ll help but you need to tell me everything.”

  “I don’t know who killed Adele.”

  “Maybe not, but you must have seen or heard something that could lead the police to the killer.”

  Karla swiveled the barstool to face Hannah. “Like what?”

  “Okay, let’s start with the award ceremony Friday night and then try to remember everything that happened here at the Pub and Pool Hall up until Adele left. Who was she talking to? Who did she leave with? Any detail you can think of.”

  “The award ceremony is a blur, but plenty happened here Friday night. Adele put herself in the center of everything. She was pretty drunk and that guy,” Karla nodded toward Hannah’s father, “he kept trying to get her to leave with him. I’m not sure what that was about, but Adele finally yelled at him and told him to leave her alone. He got mad at her.”

  Hannah glanced at her father and Samantha. Luke sat nursing a beer while Samantha gestured and chattered away. They were too far away for Hannah to hear any of the conversation, but from what she could observe, Luke was in his own world. Did he blame himself for Adele’s death? Or did he follow her to the beach to straighten her out and end up killing her in a fit of rage?

  “When did Adele leave?”

  Karla scrunched up her mouth. “It had to be after midnight. I’m pretty sure she finally left with that old guy.”

  That made sense to Hannah since Luke gave her a ride to the Pub and Pool Hall.

  “Rory and I left about a half hour later.”

  “Did you stay at his apartment?”

  “Now I wish I had, but he was in such a bad mood I had him drop me at my house.”

  “So Rory didn’t have an alibi, or at least, you aren’t his alibi.”

  Karla nodded. “Now I wish I didn’t tell this to the police, but Rory told me he was planning to take a walk on the beach after he dropped me off. You know, to cool off.”

  Hannah forced herself to keep her face neutral but everything she heard about Rory sounded like the hole he was in just kept getting deeper.

  Hannah patted Karla’s hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll help Rory.”

  Hannah felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. “We need to talk.” Her father’s voice sent shivers up her spine as she slowly turned to face him.

  This was her chance to ask him more about Adele but she wasn’t sure she was ready to face his wrath.

  Hannah followed her father back to the table in the corner where he had been sitting.

  “Good luck,” Samantha whispered as she passed Hannah and headed toward the pool table.

  The chair was still warm when Hannah took the spot where Samantha had been sitting. She smiled at her father and pointed toward his glass of whiskey. “Drowning your sorrows?”

  “Something like that.”

  Hannah watched his face but he wasn’t giving anything away in his expression. Cold, gray eyes stared at her
. His legs were crossed under the table. His left hand wrapped tightly around his glass was the only indication of any tension.

  “Mom wants to leave.”

  “Of course she does. She always wants to run away from problems.” He nursed his drink. “I’m not leaving until I finish my plan.”

  Hannah leaned across the table right in her father’s face. “To take my land?”

  He moved away from her. “To buy it.” A grin crept into the edges of his mouth. “I heard your promise to help that pathetic sculptor friend of yours. You need money and I can help with that.”

  Hannah’s stomach twisted. The beer was about to come out the way it had gone in, but she sucked in a deep breath and willed her body to cooperate. This must be his plan to force her to sell. “No thanks. I’d rather go to the bank.”

  Luke laughed and leaned close to Hannah. “The president of your bank is a good friend of mine and I’ve already had a chat with him about how overleveraged you are with your property. He loves my hotel idea.”

  The hairs on Hannah’s neck rose. How did he know about her finances? It wasn’t as if she was about to be foreclosed on, but she had borrowed to get her new cottage built and, at the moment, she was short for her next mortgage payment. She could play his game, though.

  “You gave Adele a ride home from here the night, or rather, the morning before she was killed.” Not a question, a statement that was bound to surprise him. “What’s your alibi?”

  “Your mother, of course.”

  Hannah shook her head. “I don’t think so. She told me she never heard you come in. Maybe you didn’t. A walk on the beach with Adele; argue with her about her drunken, unruly behavior; a handy shovel; smack her over the head in a fit of rage and use all your influence to blame an innocent person.”

  For a second, a shadow passed over Luke’s face before he smirked. “You won’t be able to sell that theory to anyone.”

  Hannah sat back and crossed her arms, her eyes glued to Luke’s. “No? Someone saw you returning to your cottage.”

  He stared.

  “I did. You were returning to the cottage early Saturday morning. I never saw you move so fast. Ever.”

  Luke stood up so fast his chair crashed backwards into the wall.

  He stabbed his finger in Hannah’s face.

  She jerked her head away from him.

  “Stop this foolishness now, Hannah. You never know what’s good for you, and let me tell you for the last time, you will never win this battle.”

  For the first time in her life, Hannah stared back at her father knowing that somehow she would win this battle.

  If she didn’t, her whole life would be turned upside-down.

  13

  Taste of Hooks Harbor should have been enough to get Hannah’s salivary glands working in overdrive on Sunday, but after her conversation with her father the night before, preparing food was about the last thing she was looking forward to.

  Unfortunately, The Fishy Dish had a tent at the event and Meg certainly didn’t plan to run it herself.

  By the time Hannah entered The Fishy Dish kitchen, Meg had bowls filled with various ingredients and boxes ready to be packed for transporting to the town green. She threw an apron to Hannah. “It’s about time you dragged yourself out of bed. It wasn’t that late last night, was it?”

  Hannah tied the apron—lobster red with blue waves—around her neck and waist. “It wasn’t too late but I couldn’t get to sleep. I kept thinking about the fact that I saw my father drive into the parking lot here early Saturday morning and hurry to his cottage. I’m positive something happened and I’d put money on that whatever he was up to, it was connected to Adele.”

  Meg leaned against the counter. “Interesting. Moe told me he saw Luke near the marina. What doesn’t make sense is that he said he saw you, too. Were you walking on the beach?”

  “No. I walked to the beach right out here, but I never saw Moe.” Hannah packed napkins and paper plates for the lobster rolls into a box. She straightened. “The bigger question is, what was Moe doing on the beach?”

  “Watching the sunrise, or at least that’s the line he gave me.”

  “Yeah, he told me that, too. Apparently, lots of people were on the beach early Saturday morning and one of them has to be the murderer.” Hannah pulled lobster meat from the refrigerator.

  “But Rory is the one who’s locked up.”

  “And he needs a good lawyer.”

  “Does he have money for that?” Meg asked.

  Hannah shook her head. “I’ve painted myself into a corner since I told Karla I would help.”

  Meg’s eyes widened. “With what? You borrowed money to get your new cottage built.”

  “I know. I haven’t figured it out yet. My hope is to get him out of jail before I have to cross that bridge.”

  Nellie, hanging out in front of the snack bar, woofed her friendly greeting, not her I-don’t-know-who-you-are bark.

  Cal strolled in with a tray filled with four coffees. “Anyone need a dose of caffeine?”

  “You’re a lifesaver. I haven’t gotten any going here yet and, yes, caffeine is desperately needed.” Meg helped herself to one of the coffees.

  Hannah helped herself to another, Cal to a third. Hannah hoped Samantha would show up soon or the fourth cup would be cold. “Thanks. This isn’t as strong as Jack’s, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Girls night out last night?” Cal tilted his head as he looked at Hannah. She couldn’t miss the sad expression in his eyes.

  “Meg, Samantha, and I went to the Pub and Pool Hall.” Hannah felt a tiny twinge of guilt that she hadn’t told Cal her plans but she knew he would have insisted on coming, too.

  “Interesting choice. Did you play any pool?”

  “I did, and I got my head handed to me on a platter,” Meg said. “That sculptor from Florida is pretty slick but I made sure to tell him that I let him win. You know, I didn’t want his fragile ego to explode when an older woman beat him.”

  Cal chuckled. “And did he buy it?”

  “No, but it gave Hannah time to chat with Karla and her dad without any interruptions.”

  “Karla told me that Rory was planning to take a walk on the beach after he dropped her off after they left the Pub and Pool Hall. He did everything wrong—argued with Adele after he lost, left his shovel where someone could find it, and put himself right at the scene of the crime.” She shook her head. “And I promised to help him pay for a lawyer.” She slapped her forehead, letting him know without saying anything that she knew that was a mistake. Not only did she not have the money, but she barely knew the guy. She just knew her dad couldn’t be right.

  “What if Rory is guilty, Hannah? Have you considered that possibility?” Cal asked.

  Hannah’s head dropped. “Yes, of course that’s a possibility. But from what I’ve heard about Rory, what Karla told me, in my heart I don’t think he’s capable of murder. Could I be wrong? I hope not.” What she left unsaid was that if she was wrong about Rory, she might end up losing her property to her father to help Rory pay for a lawyer. She would do it because she promised and she would honor that promise.

  Samantha arrived in a hot pink t-shirt and white capris. “Your father sure was a bore last night. Is he always like that?” she asked Hannah. “I don’t think he heard any of my stories.

  “No, usually he’s the life of a party but he had his mind on something else,” Hannah said. How to steal her property, most likely.

  Samantha clapped her hands. She obviously didn’t need the coffee Cal had brought for her but she pick up the cup anyway. “Okay then. Let’s get this show on the road. What’s ready to carry out to Cal’s truck?”

  “Someone woke up bright eyed and raring to go,” Meg said. She pointed to a stack of boxes and a couple of coolers. “You can start with that stuff. Make sure the coolers are wedged in tight and don’t go sliding around when Cal has to slam on his brakes to avoid a clueless tourist.”


  “Right. We need every hungry vacationer to devour all the lobster rolls you’re making plus all the gallons of clam chowder, and it looks like you’ve got a ton of potatoes cut up for fries. I predict that to be the hot seller today.” Hannah closed the box she’d packed and added it on top of the other boxes.

  “Don’t forget my coleslaw. I know it’s only a side, but it always disappears.” Samantha said.

  Meg and Hannah finished packing while Samantha and Cal lugged all the boxes, coolers, tables, and a portable stove to his truck.

  When it was just the two of them in the kitchen, Meg asked, “Do you have much to go on about this murder?”

  Hannah sighed. “My father, Rory, Moe, and Karla on the beach early Saturday morning, Rory’s shovel that anyone could have grabbed, and a mermaid necklace that belonged to the victim but showed up around Karla’s neck.”

  Meg whipped her head around. “How did Karla get Adele’s necklace? That sounds like an important clue.”

  “I know. There’s three possibilities. Moe told Pam that Adele gave it back to him when they split up and he gave it to Karla. Or either Moe or Karla took it from Adele after she was dead.”

  “If Adele gave it back to Moe, would he actually re-gift it to another woman?” Meg’s voice dripped with disgust.

  “He does come across as the kind of guy who might do something like that, but I don’t think Adele would ever return a gift. When she showed up here at The Fishy Dish before the competition, she rubbed that mermaid like it was some kind of lucky charm. I know her. She wasn’t one to give anything back.”

  “So you’re focused on Moe as the killer?”

  Hannah sipped her now lukewarm coffee. “What I think is that Moe likes to act like this cool, together dude but he doesn’t like to lose. He reminds me of my father. And men like that go for revenge. He lost the sand sculpting competition to a woman who recently dumped him or, at the very least, was toying with his emotions. Maybe part of her game was to beat him, show him she was better than he was at something they both loved.”

 

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