Murder is a Beach (Maggie, PI Mysteries)

by Pressey, Rose

  “Did you know Kristin at all? You must have met her since you’ve worked at the store for so long.”

  “Well, like I said, she didn’t want to be around family, so I only saw her once in the past five years,” she said.

  “When was the last time you saw her?” I asked.

  “Oh, we went by her home about two years ago.”

  “We?” I asked, cutting a glance at Dorothy.

  Annie nodded. “Yes, me and Morty.”

  Dorothy snorted. I knew the use of the nickname was not making her happy.

  “Well, I’ll just go see if he’s about done with his appointment now. If you’ll excuse me.” Annie smiled.

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  When Annie walked away Dorothy snorted again. “Well, she seems to be awfully cozy with Morty.”

  I bit back my laughter. “Oh, she seems nice.” That statement garnered a glare. “Okay, she seems to be nice to Morty,” I corrected.

  “Oh, never mind about her,” Dorothy said, looking around again. “This trip is probably just a waste of time anyway.”

  “What a way to keep a positive attitude.”

  “I would think that he would have shared everything that he knew with you earlier.”

  “Sometimes people forget things. Maybe this will jar his memory. It’s worth a shot,” I said.

  “If you say so. I still say that the people Kristin worked around are being too secretive.”

  I nodded. “I agree, but there’s nothing I can do to make them talk.”

  I walked around the store gazing in the display cases while we waited. Dorothy followed along beside me.

  “There has to be a way to find out more about Kristin. Something that I’m missing,” I said. “She had to have friend other than the mysterious ones in the photo. I refuse to believe she had nothing going on other than work.”

  “That’s all some people do—work.” Dorothy shrugged.

  “But if it makes them happy…”

  “That’s all you do,” Dorothy said.

  “I have a new business. You have to put in a lot of hours at first,” I said.

  Just then Mr. Grant walked up to us. Dorothy stepped forward right away. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her fluff her hair just a little. Mr. Grant looked at her and smiled widely. Annie had walked over with Mr. Grant and was standing nearby.

  “Nice to see you again, Ms. Raye,” he said.

  “Please call me Dorothy,” she said coyly.

  Mr. Grant turned his attention to me. “Are there any updates?”

  I hated that I didn’t have much information to give him, but sadly, that was the truth. “Nothing solid yet. I’m sorry. I just wanted to stop by and see if there was something maybe you’d left out or forgotten to share with me.”

  He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Oh no, I’m sorry, it’s just that sometimes people forget things and a couple days later they remember, even if it’s a small detail. I just want to make sure I get as much info as possible,” I said.

  He nodded. “Of course. You said you went to her place. Did you find anything?”

  “Well, there was a photo I found.” I pulled it from my purse and handed it to him. “Do you recognize anyone in this photo?”

  Annie was leaning closer, trying to view the photo, but pretend that she wasn’t paying attention at the same time.

  He studied the photo and then handed it back to me. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know these women.” I could tell that looking at the photo was difficult for him.

  I took the photo back. “Thanks anyway, Mr. Grant. I’ll be in touch soon. Please rest assured I am working on the case.”

  “I have faith in you.” He waved at someone across the room. “If you’ll excuse me. It’s been very busy today.”

  “That’s quite all right. I’m sorry that we stopped in at such a busy hour,” I said.

  Mr. Grant gave a half-hearted smile and hurried across the room. He flashed another look at Dorothy. I think Dorothy actually batted her eyelashes at him. I had to get her out of there. Annie crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at Dorothy.

  “Did he just wink at you?” I whispered after he’d walked away.

  Dorothy blushed. “I don’t know. I wasn’t looking.”

  “I think he was flirting with you, Dorothy,” I said.

  She waved her hand. “He’s just being nice. After all, he has Annie.” She cut a look at Annie.

  Coincidentally, Annie had been watching us too. I’d spotted her bright blonde hair out of the corner of my eye. I thought they had a rivalry thing going on. Mr. Grant seemed to be clueless that Annie was trying to get his attention. I wondered what their situation was. Were they dating? Dorothy had been a widow for many years now. She could use the companionship of Mr. Grant. Not that I wanted to play matchmaker, but they seemed perfect for each other.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Annie looked at us with a frown, then as if she’d realized what she was doing she threw her hand up in a wave and smiled.

  “What a phony,” Dorothy said.

  I had to admit that Annie’s smile hadn’t seemed sincere.

  Annie sashayed over to us. “Did Morty answer all of your questions?” She smiled again but I knew it was forced. Dorothy crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared right back at Annie. Maybe that was the reason Annie wasn’t being all that friendly. Had she heard Dorothy’s comments?

  I sighed and looked around the store. “Yes, I think he answered all that he could.”

  Annie shook her head. “It looks like you’re a little upset. Maybe there’s something I can help you with,” she said.

  If she was offering to help me investigate the case again, then no way.

  “That’s doubtful,” Dorothy said under her breath.

  Before I had a chance to answer Annie held up her index finger. “I’ll be right back. A customer needs me. Don’t go away, okay?”

  “We should get out of here,” Dorothy said. “She can’t help us.”

  “Maybe I should show her the picture. She was looking over at it. It’s worth a shot,” I said.

  Dorothy shrugged. “She’s just so smug. Even if she knew something she probably wouldn’t help us.”

  “Maybe you should be a little nicer and then she’d help,” I said.

  Dorothy shook her head.

  “I guess your answer is no. That’s fine, but you let me do the talking if you’re not going to be nice.”

  “Like they say, if you don’t have anything nice to say,” Dorothy said.

  After helping the customer, Annie hurried back over. “Okay, now what were we talking about?”

  “You said maybe you could help me,” I said.

  “Yes, that’s right. Is there something I can help with?” she asked.

  Dorothy didn’t comment.

  “Well, maybe. I doubt you would know, but I thought I’d ask,” I said.

  “Of course, anything, dear.” She smiled.

  I pulled out the picture and handed it to her. She took the photo from me and studied it. “Do you know the women in the picture with Kristin?” I asked. I didn’t bother to ask about the arm because that would have just been weird.

  She handed the photo back to me. “As a matter of fact, I do know one of them.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t expected that answer. I hoped it wasn’t the one I’d already talked to.

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  She pointed out the woman I hadn’t already spoken with and I released a sigh of relief.

  “That was Kristin’s friend. Her name is…” Annie tapped her brightly polished fingers against the counter. “Um, her name is Grace. Yeah, Grace Stanley. Wait here and I’ll get her address.”

  This was almost too good to be true. Dorothy and I exchanged a look.

  “I don’t trust this woman,” Dorothy said.

  “Maybe not, but I want the address,” I said.

  “Why didn’t she m
ention this earlier when Morty was looking at the photo?” Dorothy asked.

  “I guess maybe we just thought she was looking at it when he was,” I said.

  After a few seconds, Annie returned. She handed me a piece of paper. There was an address written down. I recognized the street name.

  “Thanks,” I said, gesturing toward the paper.

  “You’re welcome, doll. I’d do anything to help Morty,” she said.

  I knew Dorothy wanted to say something but was biting her tongue.

  “Please tell Mr. Grant again that I’ll talk with him soon,” I said.

  “Sure will,” she said with a little wave. “Let me know if I can do anything else.”

  “She can stop being so annoying,” Dorothy said as we walked toward the door.

  Dorothy and I hurried to the car. I was excited that I’d gotten an address for the other one. Now maybe I could find out more information about Kristin’s murder.

  “That woman is a complete phony,” Dorothy said.

  “I think you already said that,” I said.

  “Well, it bears repeating,” she said.

  “She’s probably sweet if you get to know her,” I added.

  “Gutter slut,” Dorothy mumbled under her breath.

  “What did you call her? Did you just call her a gutter slut?” I asked.

  Dorothy looked at me coyly. “I’m not usually for calling people names, but she provoked me.”

  “How did she provoke you?” I asked.

  “You saw the way she was looking at me,” Dorothy said.

  “Yes, but I still don’t see how that was provoking,” I said. She smirked at me. “Okay, fine, she provoked you, but what is a gutter slut?”

  “A slut who lives in the gutter, what else?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  I climbed into the car and turned the ignition. “We’ll go to the address right away.”

  “I hope this woman cooperates more than the other woman,” Dorothy said.

  “She’d have to be completely silent for her to be any worse,” I said.

  Dorothy still didn’t look happy that we’d left Mr. Grant with Annie. “Do you think she is dating him?” Dorothy asked as she grabbed her needles out of her purse and began feverishly knitting.

  “Well, if they are I don’t think it’s serious. It looked like they were just friends,” I said, steering the car onto the next street.

  My phone rang and I pulled over so that I could answer the call. When I looked at the screen I saw that it was Mr. Grant’s number.

  “It’s Mr. Grant,” I whispered as if he’d hear me.

  Dorothy’s eyes lit up.

  “Sorry to call you so soon after you left,” he said when I answered.

  “That’s okay. Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Well…” He paused. “There was one thing. It’s your assistant.”

  I glanced over at Dorothy. She looked at me with her wide innocent eyes. Uh-oh. What had she done?

  “Yes, what about her?” I asked.

  Dorothy’s expression dropped.

  “I wondered if she’d be interested in having coffee with me sometime.” He rushed his words as if he hadn’t uttered that phrase in a long time.

  I smiled and looked at the unsuspecting Dorothy. “Well, why don’t you ask her yourself?”

  Dorothy’s eyes were about to pop out of her head. “Do you think she’d mind?” he asked.

  “No, not at all. Here, I’ll give her the phone.” I handed Dorothy the phone.

  She had a huge smile on her face when she hung up. “He wants to have coffee,” she said.

  “That’s what I heard. See, I told you he liked you.”

  She waved off my comment. “Oh, he’s just being friendly.”

  “Yes, my point exactly,” I said.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I punched in the address that Annie had given us on the GPS and pointed the car in the right direction. Within a few minutes, we were pulling up to the ranch-style stucco home. There was a car parked in the driveway.

  After turning off the engine, I paused and looked over at the house. I wanted to know what this Grace Stanley had to say, but I was worried that I wouldn’t find any new information. Finding no information wouldn’t bode well for my investigative abilities.

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go talk with her,” Dorothy said as she climbed out of the car and motioned over her shoulder.

  I forced myself to open the door and climbed out from behind the wheel. I wondered if Dorothy had one of those peppermints that she claimed calmed nerves—preferably one still in the wrapper.

  Dorothy and I made our way up the sidewalk and to the front door. We stood side by side on the little front porch and I rang the doorbell. I shifted from one foot to the other while we waited. I’d started to wonder if maybe she wasn’t home after all when the door finally opened.

  Grace Stanley, the woman from the picture, was standing in front of us.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  By the way she held the door and her stiffened body stance it looked as if she was ready to slam the door in our faces at any second.

  A dog barked from inside her house. I wasn’t sure about the size, but the dog sounded huge and like he wanted to use my arm as a chew toy. Not only was the dog barking, but he was scratching at door the door too. I was beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea. Then again a lot of things I did weren’t good ideas, but that hadn’t stopped me yet. The barking only grew louder and now there was a pounding on the door. I thought the dog might be charging at the door or something.

  I was about to open my mouth to speak when a loud crash rang out. With one big white fluffy blur, the dog ran toward us. He wasn’t huge after all. With his ears penned back, he ran toward the door.

  The woman yelled out, “No, Patches. Come back here.”

  Patches had broken free and he wasn’t listening to a word she said. He had kicked his speed into full gear and was making a straight-line toward the front door. I doubted there was anything she could do to stop him. Surprisingly, he’d stopped barking.

  The little white dog ran out the door. She reached own for him, but came nowhere near catching him. He quickly hopped down the step and off the front porch and onto the yard. He never looked back as she yelled for him to stop. Luckily, he hadn’t gone out of the yard. He was running in circles, probably trying to decide which way he wanted to go or which flower to water first. I glanced over at Dorothy and she shrugged. The woman ran past us, practically shoving me out of her way.

  “Don’t just stand there. Help me catch the dog,” she yelled over her shoulder as she ran around the yard. “It’s your fault that he got out.”

  How was it my fault that the dog had gotten out? I’d never even been in her house. I exchanged a look with Dorothy. She shook her head and said, “Well, come on. Let’s go get fluffy or whatever his name is.”

  Dorothy shuffled off the porch and onto the sidewalk. It looked as if I would have to catch the dog because neither of them seemed to know what they were going. Okay, I didn’t know how to catch him either, but I had to give it a shot. Patches looked like he was enjoying the game though.

  Dorothy took off in one direction and I went the opposite. I couldn’t see Patches at the moment and I hoped he had left the yard. He didn’t look concerned about getting too far away. It seemed he was more interested in just having us chase him. I ran toward the edge of the lawn, then paused and looked around. Where was the dog? Dorothy had stopped and was peering around for him too. I didn’t even see the woman. Maybe she’d already found him. I waved at Dorothy and headed her way.

  As Dorothy approached, her eyes widened and she pointed over my shoulder. I whipped around thinking that the dog was behind me. There was a dog behind me, but it wasn’t Patches. This dog had his lips curled up in a snarl showing off his canines.

  “Hi, doggie. Nice doggie. Please don’t bite me,” I said.


  Where had this large black dog come from? I was frozen and didn’t know what to do. Fortunately, this dog wasn’t moving toward me either. Just then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a white streak. The black dog took off after Patches.

  The woman ran around the side of the house. “Did you see Patches come this way?” she asked.

  I nodded. “He went that way. The black dog is chasing him.”

  “Oh, that’s Patches friend from next door. They play all the time.”

  Dorothy was up head and I saw her lunge forward in an apparent attempt to catch Patches. If she wasn’t careful, she would break a hip. Dorothy nearly missed capturing Patches. The other dog and Patches were now chasing each other in the neighbor’s yard.

  We sprinted over to the other yard. This had gone on long enough. Patches was just playing games with us.

  “Does he do this often?” I asked as we ran alongside each other.

  She nodded. “Every chance he gets.”

  Maybe she should secure the door. I guessed that was why she’d blamed me because we’d come to her front door and she’d obviously had to put Patches in the other room. Now the three of us stood in her neighbor’s yard. We had all edges of the yard covered, but something told me this dog would have no problem out-smarting us.

  When Patches made a run for it, I lunged forward, but landed on my face. As I was laying there with my face in the grass, I felt something licking my cheek. I looked over to see Patches’ face an inch from mine. I laughed and then reached out, then grabbed the dog in my arms. The woman ran over.

  “Oh, thank goodness, you got him.”

  No matter that I’d almost broken an arm or leg in the process. Patches wiggled in my arms when she came near. She took the dog from my arms.

  I pushed to my feet and Dorothy hurried over.

  “Are you okay, Maggie?” Dorothy brushed grass from my hair and shirt.

  “I’m fine. I’m just glad we caught Patches before he was hurt.” I glanced over and noticed that the other dog had returned to his home and was sitting innocently on the front porch. He looked at us as if we were the crazy ones. We headed back to the woman’s front door as she placed the dog back inside. She closed the door so he couldn’t get out and stood on the front porch glaring at us. Clearly she was still blaming me for his escape.