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A Treasure to Die For (A Seaside Cove Bed & Breakfast Mystery Book 1)

Page 13

by Terry Ambrose


  Luhan fingered the collar of his leather jacket and snickered. “Are you kidding me? If Monica told you about me, she got the word from Jim. There were a couple of times things got turned upside down, but Jim was ahead on balance. One satisfied customer, that’s what he was. Right, Monica?”

  “For the most part. Up until you two had that falling out.”

  “Well, like I said, the market has its ups and downs. How much are we talking about, Rick?”

  “Ten grand for starters.”

  Brad whistled quietly and a smile spread across his face. “Nice.” His eyes flicked toward Monica, then back. “When will you have the money?”

  “I’ll need a few more references first.”

  The smile disappeared and Brad backed away. “This business operates on trust, man. I keep things small. My list is private for obvious reasons. This is the sort of thing you can’t discuss in public without a dozen strangers wanting in. Don’t think about this too long, man. The information I’ve got is time sensitive. Within the next couple of days, it will be all over the news.”

  “What about the other treasure hunters? Are any of them clients of yours?” Rick asked.

  “I don’t divulge my client list. Period. It’s bad for business.”

  To his side, Rick heard Monica mutter something unintelligible.

  Brad fixed her with an intense stare, but then appeared to dismiss her. “Most of these people don’t have squat.” He turned his gaze on Rick. “Like Monica. She couldn’t invest because she didn’t have enough cash.”

  “Is that what Jim was doing? Investing so he could raise what he needed to find the San Manuel?”

  “To some degree. He had different objectives at times.”

  “Like?”

  “What do you mean, man?”

  “Like what objectives?”

  “Wait, are you really interested in investing or are you just sniffing for information?”

  “I’m as serious as they come.” Rick left off the part about finding Gordon’s killer.

  Brad leaned against the doorjamb, crossed his arms, and lowered his voice. “Jim made a bundle from my information. And, yes, he was using the returns from his investments to finance the hunt for the San Manuel. One of his objectives was to cut Reese out.”

  “You’re quite the resource, aren’t you, Brad?”

  He shrugged. “I hear things.”

  “What can you tell me about Mr. Santiago?”

  “Why?”

  “You said you operate on trust. I need to know I can trust you, too.”

  “Heath?” Brad grimaced, then poked his head out into the hall and checked both directions before he spoke. “Hostile dude, if you ask me. He’s the kind who wants everybody to look up to him. He couldn’t survive if we all ignored him.”

  “So you didn’t like him? Did Jim?”

  “Jim was good at keeping Heath under control. Something happened at the end though. It had to do with this weekend, but I’ve got no idea what it was.”

  “News to me,” Monica said.

  “One thing’s for sure, man. Heath is in this. He’s got some sort of angle because Jim wasn’t happy with him. And you can take that to the bank.”

  Chapter 36

  ALEX

  June 17

  Hey Journal,

  Me and Marquetta had a good talk. She gets me better than anyone, even my dad. The way we get along is awesome. She made me see that it was wrong to spy on the guests.

  I don’t know how to say this, but it happened again and this time I wasn’t trying to spy. Honest! I just opened my door a little and people were talking out in the hallway.

  First, it was Daddy and Miss Kelley talking to Mr. Luhan. That got me to thinking about Mr. Santiago. Him and Robbie have something in common. Robbie’s family has had a hard time and Mr. Santiago kept losing out to Mr. Gordon. Isn’t that the same thing?

  Wow, Journal, now Mr. Luhan is out in the hall with Mr. Joshua. He’s telling him what happened with Daddy. I can hear what they’re saying. I’m not trying to be a snoop. I promise, I’m not!

  They only stayed out there for a minute. Then Mr. Joshua must’ve seen me cause he pulled Mr. Luhan into his room and closed the door. Since Mr. Joshua’s room is next to mine, I tried that eavesdropping trick they use on the cartoons—the one with the glass. Guess what? It worked! I couldn’t make out all the words, but they were definitely talking about Daddy and Mr. Gordon.

  What am I gonna do now?

  Alex

  Chapter 37

  RICK

  After their conversation with Brad, Rick and Monica spent a few minutes talking, then Rick returned to his office. Unable to concentrate, he decided to check on the other guests. Perhaps he could find some of them in the house.

  On his way down the stairs, he spotted Marquetta coming up. She carried an armload of linens. It was part of the ritual. Everything was taken downstairs to be laundered, then had to come back up. “How come you don’t use the dumbwaiter?”

  “According to Devon, the less we use it, the longer it will last. This isn’t a very big load, so I decided to schlep them around the hard way.”

  “Let me help.”

  She pulled to one side. “It’s fine. I’ve got it. I was also coming to find you. Adam’s in the kitchen. He’s finished his route and wants to talk about the case. It doesn’t sound good.”

  “What about you? Are you okay? You look…are you doing all right?”

  His heart nearly stopped as he watched her. She caught him watching and smiled. Her gray eyes glistened. Were they moist from crying? Marquetta—always so steady—now seemed so vulnerable.

  “Relax, Rick. I’ll get through this. I just need some time. Now go talk to Adam.”

  She darted to her left and slipped by him.

  “I guess Adam got Robbie home?” He called after her.

  She stopped, turned sideways on the stairs and gazed down at him. This time, he was sure he did see a tear in her eye. “He didn’t say anything about Robbie. You should talk to him yourself.”

  “Right,” he muttered as she hurried on her way.

  Rick found Deputy Cunningham sitting on one of the barstools at the center island sipping from a Seaside Cove B&B mug.

  “What’s going on, Adam?”

  “Just having a little green tea for my afternoon pick-me-up.”

  “You actually like that stuff?”

  The deputy shrugged as he gazed at his mug. “It’s full of antioxidants and—other good stuff.”

  “Marquetta got you to say that, didn’t she?”

  “Don’t be messing with my zen moment of the day. Hey, remember those prints we hoped to get off the monopod? There’s nothing definitive other than those of Mr. Richardson. It figures that the salt water did a number on anything else that might have been there. All we’ve got are a few marginal partials—not enough to identify anyone. We’re right back where we started.”

  “Too bad. There is one development you should be aware of. It concerns the return address on the envelopes. It was Gordon’s, but the postmark corresponds to Cadman’s address. It looks like he might have sent out the invitations to lure people here.”

  The deputy scratched at his temple and nodded absently. After a few moments, he smiled and said, “Terrific. We’ve got us some progress after all.”

  “Don’t get too excited. Remember, Mr. Richardson has a physical limitation. Plus, it’s possible Heath Santiago is somehow tied into this.”

  “Yuck, complications.” The smile fell away and Adam sighed. “How’s he related?”

  “I’m not sure. It sounds like he was jealous of Gordon, but Luhan says Gordon was ‘controlling’ Santiago. Whatever that means.”

  The deputy pulled on his earlobe and grimaced. “Messy business. Okay, we keep digging.”

  “How long before we’ll have anything from the autopsy?” Rick asked.

  “At least another week. Things don’t move fast around here at all.”

&
nbsp; “Never do. Anywhere. Look, what I have on Santiago might only be standard group infighting. There seems to be no love lost between any of them. The bottom line is, all Luhan said was that Santiago was involved. That doesn’t mean he’s the killer.”

  “In the interview I did, Santiago was not forthcoming at all. I wouldn’t mind rattling his cage, but I’ve got to have grounds. You know how it works.”

  Rick nodded. “All too well. I’ve also done some thinking about the crime scene itself. Remember our initial assumption that the guests had turned the body over?”

  The deputy leaned his head back so he could gaze at the ceiling. “Oh, great. Let me guess, they didn’t.”

  “Step out back with me, Adam.”

  Both men went to the patio and Rick pointed at the spot where they’d found Gordon’s body.

  “See how rough it is down there? The surfaces are at all different kinds of steep angles. Plus, the crevices make navigating difficult. You’ve got to be pretty sure-footed to avoid twisting an ankle or getting trapped in those rocks.”

  “I see what you mean.” The deputy made a move with his head somewhere between a nod and a shake, almost like he was doing figure eights. “I remember what the paramedics had to go through. You’re just full of good news, aren’t you? The body wasn’t moved, he was hit from behind, and our prime suspect can’t raise his hand above his shoulder. Oh, the dead guy didn’t send the invitations, and this Santiago character is being kind of an obstructionist. Any more good news?”

  “Yeah, they’re all obstructionists. Or liars. It could be they don’t want Gordon’s murderer found for some reason.”

  “Cheery thought.” The deputy paused for a moment, buried his face in his hands, and asked, “Anything else?”

  “That’s it. Oh, wait. I do have one more thing. Two, actually. It appears Monica was trying to get back together with Gordon, and Brad Luhan is using insider information to trade on the stock market.” Rick snickered. “Now I’m done.”

  “You’ve turned into a royal pain in the you-know-what, Rick.” Adam smiled and put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for all your help. You’ve gotten much further than I ever would have.”

  “I had a lot of practice.”

  They both gazed up at the fir trees rustling in the onshore breeze. Rick suspected Adam was feeling at least as overwhelmed as he was.

  “So what’s our next step?” Deputy Cunningham asked.

  “Wish I knew.” Rick tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I am so stumped. Given the way these people are lying and turning on each other, we should probably resort to some good old-fashioned blackmail. I’ve tried getting information on them, but didn’t find much. Maybe if you run background checks you’ll turn up something. That might tell us who’s got something to hide and who doesn’t. With that, we might be able to plow our way through this.”

  “Give me a couple of hours. I’ll see what I can turn up. In the meantime, keep digging. You might crack this case yet.”

  Chapter 38

  RICK

  Marquetta was standing at the kitchen center island watching Rick and Deputy Cunningham as they entered. She had the suggestion of a smile on her face, and Rick was sure she had something on her mind.

  “What are you so amused about?” Rick asked.

  “You two look like two little boys who crashed their new drone.”

  “Drone?” Rick grinned at Adam. “I had a remote-controlled airplane once, but a drone—well, that would have been awesome.”

  “I didn’t even get the airplane. My dad was always making me practice my piano lessons. I hated it.”

  “Piano?” Rick shook his head. “Ouch. Your old man was a real taskmaster.”

  The deputy’s right cheek inched up and he nodded. “It’s no wonder I’m so screwed up.”

  Marquetta glared at Adam. “Your dad was a nice man.”

  “You didn’t live with him, Marky.” The deputy rolled his eyes. “Oy. Anyway, I’ll keep you posted when I find out something,” he said as he left.

  Rick grabbed a glass of water, eager to share what he’d learned with Marquetta. “I asked Adam to run background checks on the guests.”

  “Getting into the role, are you?” Marquetta winked and smiled. “Actually, it’s a good idea. We really don’t know anything about these people when they come here. But when something like this happens, it makes you wonder.”

  “More than wonder. My stomach is in knots over what one of them could do to Alex.” He lowered his voice. “I never worried about raising my daughter in a place where there would always be strangers. It never occurred to me that there could be danger until you called to tell me about Gordon. I guess we don’t know who’s staying here until something bad happens.”

  “In some ways, that’s true. But, you get to meet new people every single day. I find it kind of exciting.”

  “It has been that.”

  She picked up a towel and dried the granite around the sink. “Where’s Alex?”

  “Actually, I haven’t seen her in a while. I need to check on her in a bit. Our end-of-day ritual starts in about half an hour. Dinner for two.” He tried not to wince. The comment had come out filled with self-pity—not what he’d intended at all.

  “You two have some things to talk about tonight, I’m sure.”

  His cheeks warmed with embarrassment over what might happen in the next few seconds. Would she say yes? Or no? “I’d like you to stay. For dinner. If you want to. I mean, you’re so good with Alex and…”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  He licked his lips, unable to believe she’d agreed. He was acting like a tongue-tied schoolboy, his mind, nothing but a blank.

  “Are you okay, Rick?”

  “Yes! I’m great.” He surveyed the countertops in hopes of finding a topic of conversation. But, everything had been put away and the only things left in sight were two loaves of Chocolate Chip Banana Bread. “Are those for tomorrow morning?”

  She snickered. “What’s up with you? You know the routine. Each afternoon I prepare something for the following day. That way, we’re ready. Surely you have it figured out by now.”

  “You’re right. I knew that.” Without thinking, he said, “If you’ve got a minute, can we go outside and talk?”

  She frowned, then nodded. “Sure. Just let me finish. I have to leave in a few minutes.” She quickly added, “But I’ll come back after I run a couple of errands.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He stood to the side while she placed both loaves into the ceramic bread box. When she’d replaced the lid, she wiped up a few rogue crumbs, then inclined her head toward the door.

  “Ladies first,” he said.

  She curtsied and led the way to the patio. The afternoon air held a misty quality. Gray cloaked everything to the west and dampened the colors. The shoreline had gone from sunny to foggy so slowly he hadn’t even noticed. At least the inland side remained clear.

  “I can’t get used to this,” Rick said.

  The comment earned him a raised eyebrow and a craned neck.

  “This is what you call June Gloom, right? You people who have lived along the California coast all your lives are used to it. I’m still trying to sort out what layer to wear when.”

  Marquetta giggled. “Don’t worry. You’re not alone. No matter how long you live here, you’ll never be prepared for Mother Nature’s surprises. Even the weatherman can’t get it right.”

  Their footsteps were slow, deliberate. They walked side-by-side, seemingly in perfect harmony. Her pace matched his. She hugged her arms to her chest, causing him to glance over his shoulder at the B&B.

  “Let me go back and get a coat for you,” he said.

  “I’m okay. Where are we going?”

  “Down by the water?”

  She nodded, and they started down the paved walkway to the shore. The gentle slope was an easy walk and neither seemed in a hurry. Rick’s pulse raced. He felt such a strong
connection with her. In that moment, he realized nothing else mattered. He didn’t need facts. History. Background. He understood the most important thing of all—she was the kind of woman he could fall in love with.

  When he stopped walking, so did she. He turned to her and saw worry lines on her forehead not normally there. She averted her gaze, and he gave her space by looking away.

  He took a small step backwards and focused on the moon hanging over the horizon in the eastern sky. “Moon’s coming up.” He smiled at her. “It looks like an egg standing on end.”

  Marquetta’s eyes glistened, and she looked at the sky. “It’s a waxing gibbous moon. Some call it the ‘moon of endings.’”

  “Does that mean you won’t be staying?” His breath caught. He hadn’t meant to ask that question, but it had popped out. Now, he had to wait for her answer. It seemed to take forever.

  “I don’t know what it means. I’ve been here a long time. I thought after our talk it would be better, but I’m not sure.” She sniffled, shook her head. “There are circumstances I may never be able to reconcile.”

  “Maybe I can help.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Does your uncertainty have to do with me asking Joe Gray about your father?”

  She paused, gazed at the moon again, and rested her hand on her throat.

  His heart thumped in his chest so fast he could barely breathe. “I’m sorry I intruded. It was wrong of me.”

  “There are other things, Rick. Things I can’t talk about.”

  Can’t? Or won’t? “I don’t care. Nothing from the past matters.”

  “Now you sound like Alex.” She gave him a weak smile and avoided his gaze again.

  “We can work through it—whatever it is.”

  She gripped her sides harder, but gave him no answer. Was she lowering her defenses, or simply cold? He reached out and touched her chin with his fingers. Lifted it until her eyes met his.

  “Nothing else matters,” he whispered.

  Marquetta turned her head aside and the creases in her forehead deepened. She sniffled again and took in a sharp breath. “I told you. I can’t. It’s not my story to tell. I’m sorry.”

 

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