“There isn’t one. The older men get, the more they’re considered a catch. Women, on the other hand—let’s say we degenerate into something to avoid.”
“That’s not true, there are plenty of beautiful older women.”
“Men become more distinguished with age. Women just get old.”
The corner of her lip curled as though she were holding back a smile. She shrugged, nodded at his mug and said, “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and drink up. Did you get Alex convinced you don’t need romance advice from a ten-year-old?”
Rick drank down the last of his first cup. “I wish. I assume I only deferred the inevitable.” He pushed his empty mug across the island toward Marquetta. His legs were heavy as stone. “Refill, please. I’m definitely going to need a few more cups to kick my brain into gear.”
“What you should have is green tea.” She turned, opened the pantry, and pulled out a box with Japanese writing on the side. “It tastes good and it’s healthy, too. Antioxidants, Rick. They’re much healthier than whiskey.” She handed him the box.
Who’d said anything about whiskey? “Tea? Yuck.” He set the box down and pushed it away. “I’ll stick to coffee this morning. And for your information, I was never a big drinker. I had to work nights. Speaking of work, I need to keep Alex away from this investigation. I’d like one of us to be with her at all times.”
Marquetta chuckled. “That should keep her from interfering.”
“Do you really believe she would?”
“Seriously?” She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head at him. “Have you met your daughter?”
Rick’s cheeks flushed hot. Of course Alex would want to investigate. “You’re right.”
“I can keep her busy. She’s a hard worker and a quick learner.” Marquetta pulled eggs, milk, and butter from the refrigerator and set them on the counter. “Kind of reminds me of myself at her age.”
“I’ll bet you’ve always been a good worker. You’re the best one I’ve got.”
She rolled her eyes, gave him a mock glare, then smiled. “I’m the only one you’ve got. I think you’re lying about something. You weren’t a crime reporter in New York, were you? That’s only a cover for a much darker life.”
“No, that was my wife.”
“You are still married.”
“In the eyes of the law. I’m not so sure she sees it that way. And it doesn’t seem to matter in this town. Why is everyone, including my daughter, trying to get me married off?”
Marquetta pursed her lips. Obviously, she was struggling not to laugh.
“Help me, would you?”
She set down her mug and smiled as she shook her head. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“If only I did. Alex blindsided me yesterday. She wanted Francine’s ice cream much less than a dinner invitation. What’s up with that?”
“Oh, my God. You poor, poor man. You, boss, are the most eligible bachelor in town.”
Rick swallowed hard to keep from spitting out his coffee. He got the mouthful down, then began coughing so hard it brought tears to his eyes. When he recovered his voice, he almost choked on his words. “You can’t be serious. I’m a catch? If I’m the best they’ve got, this town is in big trouble. I’ve got a mountain of debt thanks to my grandfather, I’m still learning a business from the ground up, and my precocious daughter is something between Nancy Drew and…and a marriage broker.”
Marquetta’s eyes twinkled as she smiled at him. “You are so clueless. Sit down while I explain the Seaside Cove version of the birds and the bees.”
Rick took the barstool at the end of the center island. He glanced to his left out the west-facing window. Tinges of pink spanned the horizon. Sunrise was in full swing to the east, but the colors ran across the entire sky like party streamers. “Great sunrise.”
“Focus, boss.”
He looked back at Marquetta. “Right. So why am I the best hope this town has?”
“There are twenty-two mothers here with daughters they want to marry off. There’s a lot of competition. That breeds backbiting and jealousy.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Rick watched Marquetta’s face, but saw not even the hint of a smile. “Wait, how do you know there are twenty-two?”
“It’s a small town. It’s not a big number. Pay attention. There are the Planners, the Doers, and the Desperate. It probably works the same for our little band of treasure hunters.”
Rick glanced down, carefully sipped more coffee, then raised his hand like a schoolboy needing the restroom. “Can we deal with one set of social dynamics at a time? What’s a Planner?”
“Daughters in their teens.” Marquetta sighed. “Or younger. We’ve got three.”
“Younger? You mean, like Alex’s age?”
Marquetta nodded and went on to explain there were six Doers—those who were “ready to fly on their own.”
“So Francine is a Doer,” Rick said.
“Check. And a fierce competitor.”
Rick massaged his temples to relieve his growing unease. Why had he not heard any of this before? “Let me guess, the Desperate are somewhere near menopause.”
“Now you’re understanding the marriage process in Seaside Cove. And maybe you have an idea why all those married women were so happy to meet you when you first arrived.”
He groaned and stared at her. She had her elbows on the countertop and rested her chin on her hands as she gazed at him with a wicked grin.
“Motherly Love in Seaside Cove is unconstrained by distance or time. The marriage competition starts early and continues until one of the parties is in the grave.”
They sat in silence. Coffee. It wasn’t nearly enough to deal with this “marriage process.” He sucked in a deep breath, gazed out the window for a moment, then turned his attention back to Marquetta. “I’m dead meat, aren’t I?”
Her playful eyes held his. “Not if you’re nimble.” She giggled again. “Just don’t drop your guard.”
“How about it then? You want to get married?” Rick grinned at her, but his smile fell as he watched her playfulness dissipate and her gaze turn cold.
“I will not be a desperation move.”
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he stammered. It had just been a joke—and obviously, a bad one. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
She cradled her mug in her hands as she watched him. “Apology accepted. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Right. You mentioned the treasure hunters. Are you saying you think they fall into these groupings?” He waved a hand nonchalantly. “Planners and whatever?”
“Why not? Mr. Gordon was a Planner. Miss Kelley is definitely a Doer from what I hear.”
“Hmmm, she may not have been doing as much with Gordon as she let on. Reese told me it was a one-sided relationship.”
“Reese?” Marquetta straightened up and glared at him. “Not Miss Potok? You two must be getting cozy.”
How did he answer that? Jeez, this conversation had turned into a minefield.
Chapter 17
RICK
An awkward silence fell between Rick and Marquetta as they slipped into the routine of preparing breakfast. By quarter to seven, Rick’s mood had soured. This had never happened since they’d met. Things had always been so easy between the two of them. Why had someone committed murder at his B&B? Was it the murder that was causing so much tension? No, it was that stupid question.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he said. “It was…”
“Shush.” Marquetta straightened up, smiled.
Forced. Her exterior was forced. And followed by more silence.
She turned away and walked to the refrigerator where she opened the door and poked her head inside. She spoke as she rummaged around. “Not another word about it. The window washer is coming today. I’ll have him do the interior glass in the common areas.” She closed the stainless steel door and turned to Rick. “We should probably wait on the guest rooms. I can get tho
se done between bookings.”
“Sounds good to me,” Rick said halfheartedly. He pretended to inspect the bank of five paned windows lining the wall over the sink. “Just keeping all the glass clean in a place like this is almost a full-time job.”
“You’re right about that. They do brighten the rooms though.”
This was ridiculous. Now they could only talk about business or meaningless drivel?
“What else is going on?” Marquetta asked. “Are you looking into the murder? Or are you only playing midnight monitor for Adam?”
At last. Something with at least a modicum of substance. “How long have you known him?”
“I’ve known Adam since kindergarten.” She paused, then added, “He put bubblegum in my hair once.”
“Ouch.”
“His mother gave him quite a paddling for that one. Anyway, he’ll always be that little boy who sat behind me in class.”
“This town has a lot of history.”
“You have no idea.”
Good. Her smile was genuine. More like…normal. “In a way, all this town dynamics stuff reminds me of what was happening between Gordon and Richardson. I’m not sure I buy the story about Cadman preferring to see Gordon alive. I might want to look into it.”
“Serious? Does this mean you’re going to help Adam? What brought this on?”
“Several things converging. But, the main one is Alex. She asked me if someone killed Gordon because they were jealous. It is one possible motive.” Rick rubbed the back of his neck to loosen the tightness. “But after seeing the way Deputy Cunningham dealt with Cadman last night, I’m convinced he won’t solve this without some help. He barely asked any questions.”
“He hasn’t had much training.”
“Doesn’t sound like he’s had any.”
“You said it, not me. Tell you what. You help Adam crack this case and I’ll have a little girl talk with Alex. We can discuss boys and how they can be a little dense.”
Rick snorted and watched her face. Had that been a dig at him? “Am I one of the dense ones?”
“There are twenty-two mothers who have you in their sights, boss.”
“Make that twenty-one. I may have given Francine something bigger than marriage to think about.”
“Like?”
“Alex and I were in the shop.”
Marquetta nodded. “You felt trapped.”
“Like a crab in a pot. Isn’t that what you coastal people say?”
She stared at him. “No. We don’t.”
“Oh. Anyway, I couldn’t just rush out, so I told her about the San Manuel.”
“Tell me you didn’t.” Marquetta rolled her eyes.
“What?” Rick asked.
“Nothing.”
“What? Tell me. I’m one of the dense ones. Remember?”
Marquetta snickered. “Okay, do you know how many times people have come to this town looking for buried or sunken treasure? I’ve been living with these stories for as long as I can remember.” She picked up her mug and gripped it with both hands. Her eyes were moist and rimmed in red. “My father was always chasing treasure.”
“I didn’t know,” Rick said. “I’m sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known. I don’t…like to talk about it. It’s not your fault and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” Her voice softened. “Now, I have to work on breakfast while you get water and coffee out to the guests. After that, you’re free to go play detective.” Marquetta’s eyes flicked past Rick, and she raised her mug. “Correction. You’re free right after you talk to Devon.”
Rick turned, saw his handyman, and did his best to sound cheerful. “Well, Mr. Van Horn, what’s up?”
“Hey, Rick. I’m here about that estimate you wanted for fixing the back stairs. I finished all the paperwork last night and thought we could go over it now.”
Rick glanced at the clock. Was he supposed to believe Devon made a special trip to discuss business at seven in the morning? Right. Unless Rick had gotten a promotion to the master of the universe, something was up. What did his handyman really want?
Chapter 18
ALEX
Me and Robbie are starting Phase One of the plan to help my dad. We’re at the bottom of the stairs listening to all the guests. They’re waiting for breakfast and being super mean to each other. They keep arguing about Mr. Gordon’s murder. That’s awesome cause it means they’re gonna be at the table awhile.
“Are they always like that?” Robbie looks at me; his eyes are really big.
“Marquetta says they’re just nasty people.” I lean forward and peek around the corner. “My dad must be in the kitchen now. He’s gonna be busy talking to Mr. Van Horn and waiting on the guests. Marquetta can’t leave the kitchen until breakfast is over. So this is perfect. All I gotta do is walk across the lobby, go behind the desk, and grab the key from the third drawer on the right side.”
Robbie’s jaw drops, and he’s staring at me again. “All the rooms have the same key?”
“Doh. No, Robbie, it’s a master. Each room has its own key, but the master works on all of them. It’s kinda lame. Who still uses real keys in a place like this?”
“Wow.” Robbie’s eyes are huge now, and he’s smiling at me like he’s impressed. “You sure know a lot about running a B&B, Alex.”
Holy moly, Robbie doesn’t give out a lot of compliments. What do I say? I pretend to slug him on the shoulder with my fist. It’s like a little tap—I guess it’s the kind grownups call a love tap—and change the subject. “When Captain Jack did his big remodel, they didn’t have key card locks. Heck, they didn’t even have cell phones back in those days. How did they text each other?”
Robbie shakes his head. He doesn’t say a word. Typical Robbie. Boys can be so lame.
I take another peek at the dining room. “Piece of cake. I’ll go to the front desk.”
“Right. What are you waiting for?”
“Morning, Alex.”
Holy crap! “Good morning, Miss Kelley.” She’s right beside me. I smile at her—adorable and innocent—just the way Marquetta does when she’s making nice with the guests. “On your way to breakfast?”
“Yes. I’m running late and I’m starved. I can’t wait to see what Marquetta has whipped up for us today.”
“Awesome.” My heart is pounding as she gives us a little wave and goes into the dining room to join the other guests. I mutter, “If she wanted breakfast so bad, why wasn’t she on time?”
“Could be she was up to something.”
“Let’s find out. Lemme get the key.”
My heart is racing fast enough to explode as I hurry across the hardwood floors. At the desk, I look around. Nobody.
Check up the stairs. The coast is clear this time. But there are a couple of voices. I can’t quite recognize them. And I can barely breathe. Robbie’s sitting on the steps giving me a thumbs up. He’s got a big smile on his face. How could he not hear those two men?
I can’t back out now. I drop down behind the desk and pull open the drawer. There’s the key. I grab it, check the lobby one more time, and run back to where Robbie’s sitting. I can’t let him see how scared I am, so I ignore the voices upstairs and give him another slug on the shoulder. “That was a total rush.”
“Awesome.”
Robbie’s voice is really shaky. He looks like he’s gonna puke. Heck, that’s the way I feel. What’s he all worried about? I’m the one who stole the key. Maybe he’s thinking about the men upstairs. He might be pretending not to hear them. I reach out and tug on his hand. He gets up and stands next to me.
My breath catches and now I’m totally gonna throw up. “Come on.”
“You are so cool, Alex.”
And now my face feels like it’s on fire. Holy moly. My stomach’s doing flip-flops and…and..
“What’s that?” Robbie asks.
“Oh, crap. Breakfast. They’re breaking up.”
Chapter 19
RICK
; The low din of arguing guests emanating from the dining room grew in intensity. To Rick, it almost sounded like they were getting ready for a full-blown fistfight. Great. That’s all they needed, more mayhem.
Ignoring the noise, Marquetta went to the coffeemaker, poured a mug, and handed it to Devon. “And here I thought you stopped by for a shot of this.”
“Well, that was kind of on my mind.” The big man glanced at the butler’s door and winced. He raised his mug to toast, but his gaze returned to the sounds of the argument. “Here’s to the best coffee in Seaside Cove.”
“I need to squelch this,” Rick said.
“I’ve got it.” Marquetta picked up a tray on which there were two carafes, a water pitcher, and a small supply of sugar and creamer. “You two should talk.” She backed out the butler door and winked at them. With the door open, it sounded like a wall of sound blasted into the kitchen.
“Thanks,” Rick mumbled. He was in no shape to deal with cranky guests, but was it any better to be forced into fending off Devon’s gossip-seeking urges? That wasn’t exactly easy either. Still, Marquetta was already gone and Devon was all his. Or was it the other way around?
The sound of Marquetta clearing her throat in the other room carried easily through the door. It reminded Rick of a kindergarten teacher bringing order to her class. The guests quieted, and Rick was mystified by how she’d pulled that off. He leaned sideways against the kitchen island and gazed at Devon.
“What’s the damage?”
“Nobody messes with Marquetta,” Devon shook his head, sipped from his mug, and smacked his lips. “Sweet as pie and tough as a marine drill sergeant. Yessir, I don’t want to cross her.”
“Me either,” Rick said.
“And she makes the best coffee. What’s her secret ingredient?”
Not again. More drivel? “Really, Devon? I had a late night and an early morning.”
“I guess she won’t tell you, huh?”
Oh, good God. “Yes, everyone loves Marquetta’s coffee. No, I don’t know what her secret ingredient is because…because it’s a secret.”
A Treasure to Die For (A Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast Mystery Book 1) Page 6