What I couldn’t figure out was what Herbert was getting out of it. Previously, he had been adamant that he had no intention of retiring. Work had been everything to him. Now he was making plans for all the free time he was going to have on his hands. Had Anthony paid him off? Offered him some sort of financial incentive to retire early? Or had he blackmailed him? Threatened to reveal something if Herbert didn’t play ball?
These are the kinds of questions that Scooter and I mulled over that night. I even called Sylvia to get her take on the matter. She was firmly in “Team Accidental Death,” parroting the same party line as Anthony and Herbert.
In the end, we decided to let the whole matter drop. As Scooter pointed out, no one believed that it was murder. Or, at least, they weren’t admitting it out loud. The FBI had given me the runaround, Chief Dalton was disinterested in the case, and even the captain of the cruise line was sticking to the story of accidental death.
Rather than fight an uphill battle, we got back to more important things—our boat project list and planning Anabel’s party. While Scooter focused on installing new water tanks, I organized catering, put together a playlist of fun beach party tunes, made party favors, picked up decorations, and helped Charmaine make several batches of fudge.
I’d have to say that I definitely got the better end of the deal. Replacing our old, leaking tanks involved crawling into tight spots, disconnecting hoses, and cutting through fiberglass. None of it very pleasant, but being able to carry enough water for drinking, cooking, and washing up would be essential when we were in the Bahamas. For a while there it was touch and go when it looked like the new tanks we had purchased wouldn’t fit. Somehow, Scooter managed to squeeze them in, finishing with plenty of time to spare before Anabel’s party.
When I got up on Sunday morning, the first thing I did was run the bathroom tap, squealing with joy at the water coming out of it. Then I swung by Charmaine’s house to pick her up. Her husband, Dale, stowed two large trays of fudge in the trunk. Charmaine planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving a smear of bright pink lipstick behind. He smiled, then swatted her rear as he opened the passenger door for her.
“That man sure is a keeper,” Charmaine said as we pulled out of the driveway. “There were a dozen red roses waiting for me next to the bed when I woke up this morning.”
“Don’t tell me I missed your birthday,” I said.
“No, that’s not for ages.”
“It’s your anniversary then?” When she shook her head no, I asked, “Then why the roses?”
“He told me that it’s to celebrate International Bagel Day.”
“Bagels?”
“Uh-huh, I love bagels, but I can’t eat them on account of this new diet I’m on.”
I groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re doing Rutamentals.”
“Gosh, no.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d rather eat Styrofoam packing peanuts than eat a rutabaga.”
“Then why no bagels?”
“Cream cheese. Ever since I stopped being a vegan, it’s been my downfall. I can’t eat a bagel without spreading a lot of cream cheese on it. And I mean a lot.” She sighed. “So I had to give up bagels. Dale knew that today would be tough for me, so he got me flowers to cheer me up.”
“The two of you are a great couple,” I said.
“Oh, honey, we’re just like any other couple. Sometimes we fight like cats and dogs.”
As I turned onto Main Street, I said, “Scooter and I had a huge fight recently. It was our first one in ages.”
“But everything’s better now, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh. We had a really good talk. I don’t know if I told you this before, but I offered to take over managing our finances so that I could be more involved in things. I knew Scooter always worried about money, but I didn’t realize how bad it was until there was this little issue with the password to our online account. And then he had wanted to invest in Fletcher’s business opportunity. The whole thing was a nightmare.”
“I didn’t know the two of you had money problems,” Charmaine said. “Can I do anything to help?”
I pulled into the Sugar Shack’s parking lot, then turned to her. “No, it’s nothing like that. I didn’t realize how bad his anxiety was about the possibility that we might not have enough money one day, not that we have money problems now. We’re fine financially. Scooter does well with his business, and I’ve been bringing in a little extra.”
“So, what’s the problem?” she asked.
“Scooter has really been looking forward to taking time off and going sailing. I know you don’t have a sailboat, but they can be real money pits. He wants to make sure we have enough of a cushion so that we don’t have to stress about it when things break.” I unbuckled my seatbelt, then added, “Sailing has been his dream for years. I really hope the reality of it lives up to his expectations. That’s why I keep trying to rein him in.”
Charmaine chuckled. “I can’t imagine that’s easy. His face lights up when he talks about Marjorie Jane.”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” I said. “I keep telling him that we need to take baby steps. Let’s get to the Bahamas, then we can decide if we really want to keep going onward from there or come back to Florida.”
“What’s he going to do about his business while you guys are in the Bahamas?”
“We’re both going to try to work remotely and see how it goes. He’s mentioned the possibility of bringing on a partner. But having seen what happened between Fletcher and Herbert, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. Someone could wind up dead.” When I saw the expression on Charmaine’s face, I said, “Sorry, that was a bad joke, I know.”
“You still think it was murder, don’t you?”
“I know it was. But apart from Scooter, no one else seems to agree with me, so I’m washing my hands of the matter. In fact, I’m going to stop sticking my nose into things which don’t concern me. From now on, my only investigations are going to be about alien abductions, not murder.” I snatched my purse from the backseat. “Come on, let’s grab Penelope and the catering, then head back to Marjorie Jane. The other ladies are going to be there soon. Then it will be time to set sail for Destiny Key and party.”
* * *
When I spotted Sylvia and Madison sitting at one of the tables on the marina patio, I stopped in my tracks. “I wonder what they’re up to,” I said under my breath.
Charmaine shifted the trays she was carrying in her arms. “Are they here for Anabel’s party?”
“Not that I know of,” I said. “Maybe Anabel invited Sylvia, but she doesn’t even know Madison, so I don’t know why she would come.”
Penelope put a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. “Are you talking about those two ladies?”
“Uh-huh. Sylvia is the older woman. She’s the widow of the man who died on the cruise ship. The other woman is the girlfriend of Sylvia’s nephew.”
“I’ve seen the younger woman before,” Penelope said. “I was at the jewelers. She wasn’t happy. Though I’m not sure what they did to upset her.”
Charmaine nudged me. “They’re headed this way.”
Sylvia gave me an air kiss, then said, “We weren’t sure where your boat was docked. I was worried that we were late, but it looks like we came just in time.”
I furrowed my brow. “In time?”
“For the party, silly.” Sylvia looked at our carts, which were laden with coolers and boxes. “What’s all that?”
“The catering. Sandwiches, quiche, salads, and of course …” I smiled at Penelope, “the most delicious pastries you’ll ever taste in your life.”
Sylvia frowned. “You’re schlepping that all to your boat? I don’t know what kind of third-rate caterer you’re using, but they should have delivered this, then set everything up for you.”
I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I should have introduced you to Penelope. She owns the Sugar Shack.”
“Sugar Shack, that’s a cute name for an ice cream parlo
r,” Sylvia said dismissively.
Penelope arched an eyebrow, but bit her tongue.
“It’s not an ice cream parlor,” I said. “It’s primarily a bakery, but they also do light lunches. They’re the ones doing the catering for Anabel’s party.”
Sylvia looked back and forth between me and Penelope, then said, “Oh, you’re such a card, Mollie. Isn’t she a card, Madison?”
Madison bit back a smile, then shook Penelope’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she said. “I’m sure the food will be delicious.”
It all seemed to go over Sylvia’s head. I put it down to fatigue. There were dark circles under her eyes. I couldn’t imagine that she had been sleeping well. When you’re exhausted, you can’t think properly and sometimes even say tactless things.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Madison grabbed one of the trays Charmaine was carrying. She smiled brightly and looked at me. “Which way to your boat?”
Penelope and I led the way, pulling the carts behind us. The others followed, chatting away about wedding dresses.
When Sylvia started describing the latest trends in wedding veils, I gulped. Earlier in the week, I had spoken with Sylvia and told her that Anabel wanted to put wedding planning on hold for the time being. Apparently, I had been too subtle in my approach since Sylvia was practically gushing about handmade Italian lace.
When we reached Marjorie Jane, I pulled Sylvia aside. “I don’t think Anabel is planning on wearing a veil. In fact, she and the chief are thinking of eloping. So maybe today, we could focus on just having fun, and not talking about wedding planning?”
“Eloping? Oh, that would be a shame, but I understand.” She looked in Madison’s direction. “I’ll tell her to keep the talk about wedding planning to a minimum.”
“Is Madison helping you with your wedding planning business?”
Sylvia lowered her voice. “No, I’m helping Madison plan her wedding. I think she’d look gorgeous in a full wedding veil, don’t you?”
“The woman is stunning. She’d look gorgeous in a garbage bag,” I said.
Madison walked over to us, wagging a finger playfully. “What are you two whispering about?”
“You know how terrible I am at keeping secrets,” Sylvia said. “I told Mollie about you and Anthony.”
“Well, hopefully Mollie is better at keeping secrets than you are,” Madison said. “I don’t want Anthony finding out that I know what he has planned.”
I held my hand up. “Wait a minute, I’m confused. Did Anthony propose?”
“Madison found an engagement ring.” Sylvia couldn’t contain her glee. “Anthony told her that he has something special planned for her tomorrow. She saw a brochure for hot air ballooning peeking out of his briefcase. He’s going to propose while they’re up in the air, I just know it.”
I recalled how Anthony had seemed poised to pop the question to Madison that night at Chez Poisson. Despite their very public blow-up, he had seemed confident that they would make up. It looked like things were back on track for the two of them to get engaged. Smiling at Madison, I asked her when she had found the ring.
“Yesterday,” she said breezily while she pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her tote bag.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t smoke aboard the boat,” I said. “It’s a fire hazard.”
Madison waved a hand around the dock. “Is it okay if I smoke here?”
“That’s fine. But maybe over there so that you’re downwind of us?”
Madison nodded, then plucked a cigarette out of the pack. “No problem.”
“You’re the first person I’ve met who smokes pink cigarettes. I’ve only ever seen the white ones before,” I said. “Yours are, uh, quite distinctive.”
“Sylvia gave them to me,” Madison said.
“They’re from Paris,” Sylvia said as she dug around in her purse. After finding the gum she had been looking for, she added, “If you’re going to smoke, you might as well do it in style.”
“It must be hard these days since so many places don’t let you smoke,” I said.
“It’s understandable,” Madison said with a shrug.
“Did they let you smoke aboard the cruise ship?” I asked.
“The smoking areas on the ship were dreadful,” Sylvia said. “Just because you’re going to have a cigarette doesn’t mean you want to breathe in everyone else’s secondhand smoke.”
Madison chuckled. “I know some ex-smokers who enjoy secondhand smoke on occasion.”
“Is that where you smoked?” I asked the young woman. “In the designated smoking areas?”
Madison chewed on her lip for a moment. “Actually, I found a quiet spot that no one else seemed to know about. I probably shouldn’t have smoked there, but . . .” Her voice trailed off as she looked at the cigarette in her hand. Then she smiled brightly. “Speaking of, let me go have that smoke.”
As she walked to the end of the dock, puffing on her cigarette, I wondered if finding the pink cigarette butt at the crime scene had been innocent after all. Maybe that was the quiet spot she had found to smoke at. I shrugged. That had to be the explanation, didn’t it? After all, she was with Sylvia at the magic show the night Fletcher was killed.
Oh, my gosh, stop it, I told myself. You are not investigating a murder. Who cares where you found a cigarette butt? Who cares who killed Fletcher?
Then a little voice inside me replied, You, that’s who.
* * *
The sail to Destiny Key was amazing. At first, I battled my nerves and self-doubt. Scooter and I considered ourselves co-captains, but this was the first time I had captained the boat on my own. It was incredibly daunting. But after a while, I relaxed, enjoying the feeling of being in charge. Of course, Mrs. Moto kept me on my toes, meowing whenever she thought the sails weren’t trimmed properly.
Pretty in Pink was sailing on a parallel course off to our port. Penny had half the guests on her boat, while I was ferrying the rest of the ladies. Anabel was aboard my boat, lounging in the cockpit with her two dogs, Frick and Frack, curled up at her feet. At first, she had been surprised to see Sylvia and Madison, but she quickly made them feel welcome. To her credit, Sylvia didn’t mention Anabel’s wedding, probably because she was too busy taking care of Madison, who was feeling seasick.
After we anchored, a dinghy raced toward us. As it neared Marjorie Jane, Ben cut the engine and called out, “Ahoy there, matey!”
Scooter was seated at the bow. He grabbed hold of the side of Marjorie Jane, then tied the dinghy up. Once it was secure, he gave me a mock salute, “Good job setting the hook, Cap’n.”
I smiled, reflecting on the fact that a year ago I would have thought any mention of a hook meant some sort of pirate with a peg leg, parrot on his shoulder, and a hook to replace a hand that a shark must have bitten off at one point. Now I knew that it referred to making sure the anchor was secure.
Scooter pointed back at the beach. “We have everything set up for you ladies. Tables for the food, a volleyball net, picnic blankets, and lots of throw pillows to lounge against.”
“What is it with women and throw pillows?” Ben scoffed.
“They make things more homey,” I said. “And they’re cute. Everyone loves cute things, don’t they?”
Scooter grinned at our young friend. “When you meet the right woman, you’ll happily let her fill your boat with throw pillows.”
Ben frowned. “Yeah, I’m not having much luck with the ladies these days.”
Scooter and I exchanged glances. The poor guy had had his heart broken so many times in the past year. Almost as many times as I had stumbled across dead bodies.
“Have you met the crew of Orangutan yet?” I asked tentatively.
“Orangutan? That’s a funny name for a boat,” Ben said.
“It had an orange hull, go figure,” Scooter said.
I rolled my eyes. Scooter never had been fond of any shade of orange. “Anyway, I happen to know one of the girls on board i
s single, and she’s really into pirates.”
Ben’s eyes lit up. “A lassie who likes sailing and pirates? Timber me shivers. I’ll have to introduce myself.”
“Just take it slow,” Scooter cautioned Ben before turning to me. “Want us to take the food over in Ben’s dinghy? Then you could start ferrying the ladies over in our dinghy.”
I ended up making four trips to the island, shuttling all the guests and their belongings. On my final trip, Scooter helped me pull the dinghy up onto the beach. “The guys and I are going to check out Warlock’s Manor.”
“Be careful,” I said. “Remember what happened last time we were there.”
“Things have changed on Destiny Key since that whole thing with Chief Tyler,” Scooter said. “The islanders are a little bit more receptive to outsiders.”
“‘Little bit’ being the key phrase there,” I said wryly.
“Don’t worry, Cap’n,” Scooter said as he kissed me on the cheek.
“Cap’n,” I repeated. “That might be the best pet name you’ve had for me so far.”
“It’s a title, not a pet name,” he teased. “We’ll meet you back here later to help clean up. Have fun.”
It wasn’t long before the ladies started digging into the food. I piled a slice of quiche, a curry chicken sandwich, and a few lemon bars on my plate, then joined Sylvia and Madison on a blanket underneath a palm tree.
“These sandwiches are delicious,” Sylvia said. “You must tell me the name of your caterer.”
Madison chuckled as I pointed at Penelope. “That lady there. She owns the Sugar Shack.”
“Oh, yes, the ice cream parlor,” Sylvia said.
While Sylvia munched on another sandwich, I turned to Madison. “When are you thinking of getting married?”
“I’d love to have a spring wedding, but that’s probably not enough time to organize everything.” She smiled at Sylvia. “Even with the best wedding planner in the world.”
Sylvia beamed at the compliment. “I think an autumn wedding would be nice. We could do an enchanted forest theme. Moss table runners, fairy lights, greenery everywhere.”
Overboard on the Ocean Page 16