Overboard on the Ocean

by Ellen Jacobson

  “Now do you believe me?” I asked him.

  “All I know is that you accused two women of murder,” he said.

  “If that’s the case, why did you have them hauled down to the station?” I asked.

  Chief Dalton pointed at the broken statue on the floor, then showed me the scratch marks Madison had left on his cheek. “They were disturbing the peace.”

  “They both just confessed to murder,” Scooter said. “I was here and heard the whole thing.”

  I held up my hand. While I appreciated my husband’s enthusiasm, he wasn’t entirely correct. “Actually, neither of them confessed yet. But we know that they did it.”

  The chief sat down in one of the chairs and sighed. He pointed at the seats across from him. “Let’s get this over with. What do you think happened?”

  After Scooter and I sat down, I leaned forward. “Fletcher was a horrible husband to Sylvia. He cheated on her, gambled their money away, and then he threatened to divorce her.”

  “We don’t know that he was going to divorce her,” Scooter said. “Madison is the one who said that.”

  “True,” I said. “But it fits. Remember, we heard Fletcher say to his killer, ‘You’re never going to get what you want.’ Sylvia probably confronted him about the divorce, saying that she wanted to stay married. He told her that wasn’t going to happen, she wasn’t going to get what she wanted.”

  Chief Dalton frowned. “So, this bit about divorce is just hearsay.”

  “I have faith in you,” I told the chief. “You’ll get her to admit to it.”

  “Tell him about the pink cigarette butt we found,” Scooter said.

  “Sylvia is a closet smoker,” I said. “She stole a cigarette from Madison, smoked it at the crime scene, and left the butt behind.”

  “How do you know it was Sylvia that smoked it?” the chief asked. “Couldn’t it have been Madison?”

  I smacked the table with my hand. “Oh, my gosh. We still have the butt. It’s back on our boat. You can test it for Sylvia’s DNA.”

  The chief narrowed his eyes. “You kept evidence of a crime?”

  “Seriously?” I scowled. “No one believed that it was murder. Not the captain of the cruise ship, not the FBI, and not even you. Who would I have given it to?”

  “Is that the only evidence you have?” the chief asked.

  “There’s also the matter of Sylvia’s alibi,” I said. “She said that she was at the magic show when Fletcher was killed, but she wasn’t. Sylvia has seen Ragno’s act before. She assumed that he was going to do his illusion with the boa constrictors, but that night he didn’t for some reason.”

  Scooter cocked his head to one side. “Is that how you figured it out? You mentioned something earlier about magic.”

  “When I saw Dominic at the library, he showed me a magic trick. When I complimented him about being a magician, he said that he wasn’t one. Then he showed me a picture of Ragno. He had gone to see the magic show. When I asked him about the snakes, he said, ‘No, no snakes.’ At the time, I thought he was saying that he didn’t like snakes, but later I realized that he meant Ragno didn’t perform his trick with the boa constrictors.”

  Scooter leaned back in his chair, pondering this. “But when we saw Sylvia at Hypnotist Hank’s, she said that Ragno had done the snake trick.”

  “Exactly. When Nancy mentioned that Hank was performing tonight, it all clicked.”

  “And then you set them up.” Scooter grinned. “But how did you know that Madison would contradict Sylvia? Why didn’t she stick with the alibi they had all agreed to?”

  “I’d be interested in knowing that, too,” Chief Dalton said.

  “Because she tried to set Sylvia up for Anthony’s murder. Making sure everyone knew that Sylvia had also killed her husband would make it more plausible.” I looked directly at the chief. “You knew there was something fishy about the phone charger.”

  The chief held my gaze for a moment, then checked his phone. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”

  Scooter and I exchanged glances while the chief listened to the other person on the line. After a couple of minutes, he ended the call, saying. “Interesting. I’ll be there momentarily.”

  “Was that about Sylvia and Madison?” I asked.

  “Tell me more about the phone charger,” he said.

  “If I do, will you tell me what’s going on with them?” The chief nodded his head slightly, so I filled him in. “Madison used to compete in beauty pageants. When we were at Chez Poisson, Anthony told us that her talent was twirling batons with all those flashing lights on them. Apparently, she was a whiz with electronics and wired the batons herself. It would have been a simple matter for her to steal Sylvia’s charger and rewire it so that the electrical circuit would overload.”

  Scooter furrowed his brow. “But how did she get Anthony to use the charger?”

  “That part I don’t know.” I smiled at Chief Dalton. “But I’m sure that you’ll be able to get her to tell you.”

  “Hypothetically, how would you have gone about it?” the chief asked.

  “Anthony liked to take baths in the morning while listening to an audiobook. I would have made sure Anthony’s phone battery was drained or close to it. He might have complained about it, so I would have suggested that he plug in his phone while listening to his book, even offering to get his charger for him. The same charger that I had rewired.” I tapped my finger on the table. “Remember our discussion about earbuds?”

  Chief Dalton scowled, probably hating that I had reminded him that he hadn’t known the difference between headphones and earbuds. “Yes.”

  “I’m going to guess that Anthony had a pair of those fancy cordless ones. If he had used those, he could have plugged his phone in safely somewhere and listened to his book in the tub without worrying about being electrocuted. I’ll bet you anything that Madison hid his earbuds, then just happened to have a pair of wired ones, which she offered him.” I arched an eyebrow. “Something you’ll want to look into when you question her.”

  Scooter scratched his head. “Sorry, but there’s something I don’t get. Why would Madison have killed Anthony? They were going to get engaged. Remember how we had thought he was going to pop the question that night at Chez Poisson?”

  “Good question, Mr. McGhie,” the chief said.

  “It is a good question,” I said before turning to Chief Dalton. “The answer is going to require a little legwork on your part. When we were getting ready to sail to Destiny Key, Penelope recognized Madison. She said that she had seen her at the jewelry store and . . .”

  When I paused for dramatic effect, the chief rolled his eyes. “And what?”

  “Madison was upset. I think what happened was that Anthony had returned the engagement ring to the jewelry store. Somehow, she found out and that was the last straw. She had been waiting for him to propose and when he didn’t, well, it wasn’t a very happily ever after to their fairy tale.”

  The chief got to his feet. “Okay, I think I’ve heard enough.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “To the station.”

  I stood and walked toward him. “Wait a minute, we had a deal. You were supposed to tell us what’s going on with Sylvia and Madison.”

  The chief suppressed a smile, then said. “They both confessed in the squad car.”

  “Well, I’m glad we could help,” I said as he started to walk out the room.

  The chief paused, then turned back around. “By the way, Anabel and I made a decision about the wedding. The first weekend after Thanksgiving, save the date. She’ll fill you in on the details later.”

  * * *

  When Scooter and I walked out of the boardroom, Herbert pulled us aside. “What’s going on? I saw Sylvia and Madison being taken away by the police.”

  “They confessed to murder,” I said.

  “Both of them?” Herbert asked.

  Scooter nodded. “Fletcher was going to divorce Syl
via. She killed him before he could go through with it. And when Madison realized that Anthony was never going to propose, she decided to end their relationship on a more permanent basis. Mollie figured the whole thing out.”

  “To be fair, they confessed in the squad car, not directly to us,” I said.

  Herbert put his head in his hands and groaned. “They say confession is good for the soul,” he muttered.

  “Is there anything you want to confess?” I asked.

  He stared at me vacantly, then said quietly, “I cheated on my wife when she was on her deathbed.”

  I put my hand on his arm. “Did she know?”

  Herbert shook his arm free. “Of course not. How could I tell her that I had slept with Madison? She would have told me what a fool I was to be seduced by a pretty, young woman.”

  Scooter’s jaw dropped. “Madison?”

  “Yes, it was when I was a judge at a beauty pageant that the company sponsored. Madison was desperate to win, so desperate that she slept with me. Like an idiot, I had thought she really liked me.”

  “Did Fletcher know?” I asked.

  Herbert laughed, the kind of laugh that sends shivers down your spine. “He saw her come out of my hotel room. Why else do you think I covered for him when he embezzled money from the company? He threatened to tell my wife unless I cooked the books.”

  I fixed my gaze on Herbert. “Ah, so that was what Fletcher was holding over Madison’s head. He threatened to reveal her affair with you to Anthony unless Madison convinced you to retire.”

  “The fact that you cooked the books would have given him leverage over you later too,” Scooter said.

  “He reminded me of it every chance he got,” Herbert said bitterly. “Do you know that Fletcher actually sent that half-witted cousin of his to threaten me?”

  “What’s the deal with Dominic, anyway?” I asked. “You said that you saw Dominic threaten Fletcher.”

  “That’s right,” Scooter said. “You told me that Dominic wanted to collect what Fletcher owed him. Is Dominic really a loan shark?”

  Herbert shrugged. “All I know is that Dominic did time, but I don’t know why. My conversations with him have been limited. He only talks about spy and gangster movies. Maybe he likes pretending that he’s some sort of tough guy. Who knows? His English is really limited, so it’s hard to know what really goes on in his head.”

  “Sylvia told me that Dominic won the lottery,” I said.

  “That would explain all the cash he was always flashing around. Fletcher even wrote Dominic checks from time to time, but he never cashed them,” Herbert said. “Listen, since I’m confessing everything anyway, you might as well know that I made that whole thing up about Fletcher and Dominic fighting. Scooter was asking a lot of questions about Fletcher’s death, so I threw that out there in case anything came back on me.”

  “Well, they all did try to accuse you of murder,” I pointed out.

  “They all wanted me out of the company one way or another,” Herbert said. “When the murder charge didn’t stick—”

  “That was mostly down to the captain of the cruise ship,” I interjected. “It was more convenient for him if it was an accidental death.”

  “Right,” Scooter said. “Then when Anthony’s alibi was blown, they all decided to stick with the accidental death story. They were worried that a murder charge would come back to bite them. That’s when they decided to really put the pressure on you to sell the company to Anthony and retire, didn’t they?”

  “It was worse than that. They weren’t even going to pay me for the company. They wanted me to sign everything over to Anthony without any compensation. They said if I didn’t do what they wanted, they would expose the fact that I had falsified the company’s finances.” Herbert clenched his fists. “Records I had falsified to cover up the fact that Fletcher had embezzled from the company in the first place. They were blackmailing me. Can you believe their nerve?”

  “The timing must have seemed opportune to them,” Scooter said. “Fletcher was dead. Assuming Anthony hadn’t been involved with the falsified financial records, then he could turn you over to the authorities with little risk to himself.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Did you by any chance send a note to Dominic about it while we were on the cruise ship?”

  “Yes, I told him that there was no way that I would be a victim of extortion.” Herbert ran his fingers through his hair. “Of course, Anthony called my bluff later.”

  “That happened at the community center, right? You guys were suspiciously all buddy-buddy. You never did want to retire and sell the company. Anthony forced you.” I cocked my head to one side. “Did Anthony know about you and Madison?”

  “I doubt it,” Herbert said. “Why would he have thought about getting married to her if he knew that she did?”

  “When we were at Chez Poisson, Anthony pretty much accused Madison of having an affair with Fletcher,” Scooter said. “What do you think that was about?”

  Herbert looked at Scooter. “Oh, I see what you’re getting at. Fletcher had a reputation as a womanizer. Maybe Anthony saw his uncle hitting on his girlfriend. That might have given him second thoughts about proposing.”

  “We think Anthony returned the engagement ring,” I said. “Maybe the thought of Madison and Fletcher together factored into that decision.”

  Herbert leaned against the wall. “Fletcher wasn’t a bad guy in the beginning. But when he started gambling and losing lots of money, he changed. It was an addiction and something we shared. I tried to help him; I really did.”

  “That’s all we can do,” I said gently. “Try to help.”

  Herbert was quiet for a few moments, then he looked at Scooter. “Are you still interested in becoming a partner?”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Scooter said. “I want to enjoy my life, go sailing, and not get caught up in the rat race again.”

  “Yeah, you might be right,” Herbert said. “Maybe I should retire after all.”

  * * *

  A few weeks later, the Daltons had their dream wedding. No edible gold-leaf and caviar canapes. No handmade Italian lace wedding veil. And, most importantly, no pink lace eye patches, parrots, or gangplanks. Instead, they had a simple celebration of their love on the beach. The chief wore a white button-down shirt and khaki shorts. Anabel had flowers in her hair and wore a flowing white dress with pastel fairies and unicorns embroidered on it. Both of them were barefoot. Their Yorkies, Frick and Frack, walked Anabel down the aisle, yipping with excitement.

  After the “I dos” were said, rings were exchanged, and the groom kissed the bride, everyone cheered. The cheers turned to laughter when Anabel tossed her bouquet.

  “Hey, look at that,” I said to Scooter. “Ben caught the bouquet. That means he’s going to be the next to get married.”

  “Guess you better hurry up and introduce him to that girl on the Orangutan,” Scooter said. “She might be the one.”

  While we were standing in line at the buffet—desserts provided by the Sugar Shack and barbecue from Alligator Chuck’s—Melvin came up to us.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” he said to Scooter. When Scooter started to protest, Melvin held up his hand. “But I appreciate it. My whole family appreciates it. Thank you.”

  “What did you do?” I asked after Melvin left.

  “Remember how we won the grand prize at the fundraiser?” Scooter asked.

  I wrinkled my brow. “I really have no desire to go on another cruise to the Bahamas. At least not on a big cruise ship. A sailboat, yes.”

  “Well, I talked the cruise line into giving me the cash equivalent. I gave it to Melvin. He’s been trying to raise money to help Velma’s sister pay for her son’s medical bills. I thought we could contribute.”

  “Oh, that’s the perfect use for that money,” I said. “On a related note, did you know that Velma is going to stick around Coconut Cove? She got a waitress job at the Sailor’s Corner Cafe.”

  Scoot
er and I snuggled up on a beach blanket, stuffing ourselves with ribs, baked beans, coleslaw, and corn on the cob. We ate so much that we were barely able to get back on our feet to watch the newlyweds cut the cake.

  While Scooter went to get us a couple of slices of cake—yes, we still managed to find room in our tummies for cake—Nancy and Hudson walked over to me.

  “Did you hear Hudson is moving to North Dakota?” Nancy asked. “He was offered a job as a head librarian. I don’t know how he managed to keep the fact that he was interviewing a secret from me.”

  Hudson kissed her cheek. “I don’t know how I got that past you either, Aunt Nancy.”

  “Congratulations,” I said. “We’re all going to miss you.”

  “Come visit anytime. Bring Mrs. Moto., Dr. McCoy would love to see her.” He nudged Nancy. “If you and Uncle Ned sell the marina, you’ll have plenty of time to visit too.”

  Nancy smiled. “Only during the summer, dear. It gets cold in North Dakota during the winter.”

  After everyone finished their cake, Ben’s band started playing. “Come on, let’s work off some of these calories we’ve eaten,” Scooter said, sweeping me into his arms. As we swayed to the music, he said, “Seeing the chief and Anabel get remarried makes me want to propose to you all over again.”

  “Maybe we could renew our vows instead?” I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. “On board Marjorie Jane while we’re anchored near a tropical island with Mrs. Moto by our side. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds perfect,” he murmured into my ear. “We should set sail tomorrow.”

  “After Christmas, I promise.”