Death Over Spilt Chowder

by Wendy Meadows

  Apparently, their Florida Keys vacation was about to get interesting in the worst way.

  Chapter 3

  Detective Newman commanded the dining room in the Butcher of the Keys’ establishment. He stood with another detective close to the entrance, talking under his breath and pointing out notes on a pad with a ballpoint pen.

  He had sharp blue eyes, an even sharper hooked nose and thin lips, but he didn’t seem mean. Rather, he was focused on the task at hand. He lifted his gaze and speared each of the people in the room with it.

  Finally, he cleared his throat, though only Karen and George had been talking. The socialite had moved closer to the Gomez’s side of the table, and her head was bowed, drops dripping from her cheeks onto the table. George whispered to her while Belinda stared at one of the thick fabric curtains drawn across the window.

  “Ladies and Gentleman,” Newman said, “I can confirm that there has been a murder in this house. I’m sure you’d like to leave as soon as possible, but you’ll have to stay a while longer while we take your statements.”

  Another detective entered the room and muttered something to Newman behind his hand.

  “Yes, as long as you cordon it off,” he replied softly, then turned back to his muted audience. “I’d like to speak to you first.” He nodded to Olivia. “My associate will be speaking to you there, sir, Mr. Reed?”

  Albert jerked upright and nodded frantically – his eyes flicked from side to side in their sockets. Shifty. Then again, everyone in here was shifty; there was a dead body down the hall, after all.

  “Ma’am?” Newman pointed his ballpoint at Olivia.

  Jake patted her on the thigh, then pressed his lips to her cheek. “Stay calm,” he whispered. “And don’t…you know, be too Olivia about it.”

  “That’s like asking the sun not to shine,” she whispered back. “Or the Titanic not to crash into the iceberg. Ugh, that was a morbid example. I’ll be right back, Rog, don’t go anywhere.” She winked at him to show she was just fine with this.

  It wasn’t as if she had no experience with law enforcement.

  Olivia circled the table, every head turning to watch her exit.

  “This way, ma’am,” the detective said and stepped back and out of the dining room door. He led her into one of the rooms directly off the hall. He tried the light switch and grunted when he realized it didn’t work.

  “I think they shut off the power on purpose,” Olivia said. “For the dining experience, I mean. They wanted to make it as creepy as possible.”

  “And the building is largely abandoned. Hold on a second, Miss—?”

  “Cloud,” Olivia replied. “Olivia Cloud. It’s a pleasure, Detective Newman.”

  “The pleasure is all mine. Give me just a moment to get ahold of a few candles, Miss Cloud, and I’ll be right with you.” Newman didn’t leave her alone. He walked to the door and stuck his head out, then spoke in that muted tone to someone just out of sight.

  Minutes later, he accepted a couple candles from another office. He placed them in their holders on a rickety coffee table in the center of the room, then fished a lighter from his pocket and lit them.

  Olivia took a seat across from him, perching on the edge of the armchair, in part because she was nervous and in part because she didn’t want to get whatever was on the chair on her jeans.

  “Miss Cloud,” Newman said and scribbled on his notepad. “I apologize for this inconvenience, but I’m sure you can understand it’s necessary. Now, can you walk me through what happened this evening?”

  Well, he certainly got straight to the point. In that case, Olivia could too.

  She nodded once, then told him all of it, from the conch chowder to the noises in the dark, to the yell and then the discovery of the body. Newman made her recount what had happened after the candles went out three times to get it down right.

  “What exactly did Mr. Reed say when he saw the body? Walk me through that again,” Newman said.

  Olivia was already hoarse from the retelling and did her best to work moisture back into her mouth. “He said that he knew the victim. He called him Joseph and mentioned he was a drifter and that he often slept on the benches at Albert’s garden club.” Olivia licked her lips, hesitating on the next bit of information. But truth was truth, and Albert had said what he’d said. “He also said that Joseph was worthless.”

  Newman’s eyebrows hopped up. “Oh?”

  “Yes,” Olivia repeated. “You can ask Jake, my, um, my partner. He heard him say it too.”

  Newman clicked his ballpoint and studied her at length by the flickering light from the candle. Goodness, she couldn’t wait to get out of this building and back to their hotel. Tonight had been surreal, and thoughts of Joseph the drifter and the potential for what it meant for the rest of them unsettled her.

  They’d come to Florida to take a break, not to be drawn into another murder mystery. But it was as if the chaos followed her wherever she went.

  “All right,” Newman said and checked his notes. “I think that’s everything I need, Miss Cloud. You can return to the dining area, and when your partner has been questioned and you’ve both had your prints taken, you should both be free to leave.”

  “Everyone’s having their prints taken? No one objected?” Olivia asked.

  “Not yet,” Newman replied. He rose from his seat and Olivia did the same, then made for the door. “Thank you for your time, Miss Cloud. We’ll be in touch if we have any further questions, and if anything comes up, give me a call.”

  “I will,” Olivia said, casting it back over her shoulder.

  She walked back down the hall and into the dining room, then rounded the table and took her seat, aware of Newman’s gaze fixed on her back. Naturally, it was his job to suspect everyone, and that was good, but what if he missed something?

  What if—?

  “Olivia,” Jake said and squeezed her thigh. “I know the look you’ve got on your face so let me put this out there right now, before you get any crazy ideas. We’re here to enjoy our vacation, not become embroiled in another investigation. Understand?”

  Olivia sighed. “I know that, Jake. There’s no need to be egotistical about it.”

  “I’m not egotistical, just concerned.” Jake rose from his seat at a crooked finger from Detective Newman. “I’ll be right back. Don’t…investigate anything while I’m gone.”

  She laughed despite the unease in the pit of her belly. Don’t investigate? That went against the grain for Olivia. She was good at two things: making melt-in-the-mouth chocolate drops of heaven and investigating crimes.

  And she hadn’t had the opportunity to do the first of those two yet. What if this was a chance to pursue the second?

  Olivia scanned the gathered people at the table, taking in their various interactions. Belinda Gomez was out of the room, likely giving a statement to one of the detectives. Karen sat with her head bowed beside George, still weeping. Albert hung his head with his hands between his palms. Tim hovered near the head of the table, still gripping the flashlight as if it was his last connection to reality.

  In a way, it was.

  All of them had been here during the murder. And, unless someone had broken in during that timed outage of the lights, the murderer was in this room.

  A shiver ran down Olivia’s spine.

  The sooner they got out of here, the better.

  Chapter 4

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning, Miss Cloud.” Jake’s voice was laden with suggestion as they strolled down the garden path between swaying palms, trees, and flowers toward the front of the Florida Keys Garden Club’s main building. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Oh, come now,” Olivia said, tilting her head back to soak up some sun. “This was on our itinerary long before…” She trailed off and glanced back at the group following them: her three A’s and Sebastian, her son, holding the end of Dodger’s lead. The Labrador padded along, sniffing the air and
letting out a bark every now and again.

  “We should’ve cancelled,” Jake said. “It’s not right coming here after last night. I’m sure Albert won’t be happy to see us around.”

  “Need I remind you that the haunted restaurant crawl was your idea?” She swatted him on the arm, and he laughed and caught her arm.

  He raised it to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Thanks for coming with me on this trip,” he said. “Or, at least, agreeing that we could all go on it together. I’m enjoying it so far, last night excluded.”

  “Me too.” And it was true. Jake’s gesture was too sweet for words, but she still wasn’t ready to forget her past and her worry about getting involved with another man again.

  He was probably perfect for her, but she had to test these waters first.

  They crunched across the gravel and up the front steps of the club, then entered and halted in front of the reception desk.

  A squirrelly-looking girl peeked from behind a magazine and studied them through thick-lensed glasses. “May I help you?” she asked with a slight lisp. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her thumb. “Are you here for a picnic?”

  “Actually, yes,” Jake said. “We’ve brought our own basket, but we’re not sure where the best place to have the picnic is, or how much it costs.” He gestured to the crowd of people outside standing with Dodger, who’d taken it upon himself to sniff every inch of the front steps.

  Olivia stepped back and let him handle it. She tuned out their talk and wandered to the pictures along the wall, each of the staff in front of the garden club’s main building smiling from ear to ear. There were ten of them in total, ranging from the teenager who sat behind the reception desk to what looked like an older groundskeeper, and then Albert himself.

  He smiled too. His teeth were yellow, but there was genuine joy in his expression. Albert clearly loved what he did, and so did the rest of the staff. However, just because he loved what he did, didn’t mean he was a great guy.

  Olivia wandered further down the hall as Jake and the receptionist chatted behind her. She peeked into an open doorway and stalled, one foot suspended in mid-air.

  Inside the room, Albert sat behind a polished walnut desk, poring over a newspaper. He toyed with the edges of the page and bit his bottom lip.

  Olivia craned her neck and caught sight of the article. Her stomach bounced around like a ball on the end of an elastic string. It was about Joseph!

  The drifter’s image – his face and his raggedy, stringy hair – was the focus of the article, along with a heading which read: HOMELESS MAN DIES IN ABANDONED HOUSE. DETECTIVES PERPLEXED.

  Perplexed? That was the last thing Olivia would’ve called Newman last night. He’d seemed in control. But then, life wasn’t always as it seemed.

  Why was Albert reading about the murder? Or rather, why was he so nervous about it?

  “Knock, knock,” Olivia said and put her foot down.

  Albert jolted and flung the newspaper upward, scattering the pieces across his desk. One drifted to the floor and lay there, disturbed by the breeze from a standing electric fan in the corner.

  “Sorry,” Olivia said and pulled a face. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” Oh boy, when Jake found her he’d give her an earful for this. Could she really be blamed, though? All she’d done was admire the scenery in the garden club.

  “You,” Albert said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I – well, hello to you too, Mr. Reed. I’m here to admire your wonderful establishment.” She smiled a little too brightly, and it brought a scowl to Albert’s face. “I’m here with Jake and a few of my friends. We’re going to have a picnic.”

  “Oh,” he said. “All right.” He sat back in his seat, shoulders stiff. “Have a good day, then.”

  “Thank you,” Olivia replied, but hesitated again.

  The air in the office was cool, and the leaves of the potted plant in the corner waved and dipped from the currents of disturbed air. Albert, however, was dripping sweat. It tracked down his temples, little beads chasing past wrinkles or across those valleys of his concern.

  Olivia took a step inside. “Are you feeling all right, Mr. Reed?”

  “Fine,” he snapped.

  “You – you look as if you want to be sick.”

  “I said I’m fine, woman.”

  “Olivia,” she replied. “My name is Olivia, not woman.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry for asking, it’s just, last night was difficult for me and I’m sure it was for you. I assume you’re not a person who finds bodies lying around on a regular basis.”

  “What?! Of course not. Why would you even suggest—?”

  “I’m sorry, I worded that incorrectly. I meant that we’re both not used to what happened last night. It was a shock to my system, I just – may I sit down?”

  Albert actually hesitated, then gestured to the chair in front of his desk, a short-backed leather seat which squeaked as Olivia sat.

  Gosh, she hated pretending, but if it helped her get answers, then where was the harm? She had been shocked last night, so that part wasn’t technically a lie.

  What are you doing, Olivia? You’re getting involved in something that isn’t actually your business.

  But she’d been there. She’d witnessed it.

  Olivia heaved a sigh. “It was a shock,” she repeated. “I’m sure you must have been even more shocked, having known the victim.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Albert said gruffly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we were hardly friends. I’d probably exchanged two or three words with the – uh – with the man before last night, and I assure you, none of them were pleasant.” He pursed his lips. “You saw what the man was like, after all.”

  “Did I?”

  “Well, he was homeless. He – look, I know that the snowflakes out there will say I’m being unnecessarily rude or mean, but the truth is, guys like that are just a waste of space.”

  Olivia blinked. It was the second time he’d mentioned this, and it was hardly the right thing to say after the man had been murdered. Not to mention, Albert was a suspect.

  “Look,” Albert said and lowered his voice to a rumble, barely audible above the hum of the fan’s blades. He leaned in. “Look, I know how it sounds, but I came from a really rough background. I know what it’s like to live on the streets and then to make something of yourself afterward. That guy, Joseph? He wasn’t a go-getter. He didn’t want to make anything of himself, all he wanted was to sleep on the benches around here and laze around. He was wasting his potential, and that means he was a waste of space. Do you get what I’m saying, Miss Cloud?”

  “I hear what you’re saying.” Did she get it? Probably not. No one was a waste of space – there was always the chance that Joseph had been on the cusp of turning his life around.

  Even if he hadn’t, he still hadn’t been a waste of space.

  “They’re harsh words,” Olivia said. “That’s probably why people don’t like to hear you say them.”

  “People are sheep and they need to wake up,” Albert announced, then got up and collected the pieces of fallen newspapers. He scuffled them together and Olivia caught sight of Joseph’s image on the front again.

  “That’s him,” she said and pointed.

  “Yes,” Albert replied. He dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, then shrugged. “Apparently, he was found with a…note on his body. That’s what the paper says, at least. Look, we get a few weird deaths like this in the Keys on occasion. I think the humidity makes people crazy, but it’s not reason to make a big deal out of a drifter.”

  Olivia had no reply for that.

  Thankfully, Jake appeared in the doorway and knocked on the jamb. “Olivia? Are you ready to go? Oh, hi, Albert.”

  Mr. Reed nodded, but didn’t speak.

  “Yes,” Olivia said. “I think it’s time for our picnic.”

  And, perhaps,
a little investigation when no one was looking. Albert’s words rang through Olivia’s thoughts. How could one man be so sure of himself? And so clean of grief after what he’d witnessed?

  Chapter 5

  Olivia and Jake trailed behind the others, both holding one handle of the basket which contained their picnic goods between them.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Olivia said and pursed her lips. “I didn’t question him on purpose, I was just looking at all the decorations on the walls and I happened to spot him in his office reading the paper. It wasn’t intentional.”

  Jake continued giving her “the look.”

  “But, do you want to know what he was reading about?”

  “Not if it’s going to set you off on the path to another murder mystery,” he replied. “Olivia, the vacation—”

  She waved her free hand at him. “He was reading about Joseph, the victim. And he was extremely jumpy when I spoke to him about it. And he was cruel, too. He keeps talking about Joseph and calling him a waste of space.”

  “Ugh, well that doesn’t seem like a wise thing to say,” Jake said. “Given the circumstances.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Regardless of what we think, Cloud, we’re not getting involved in this. Each time we do, you narrowly avoid arrest or getting hurt. Remember the time you were chased by a murderer?”

  “How could I forget?” Olivia sighed.

  They walked on in silence for a little while, and Olivia smiled at the sight of Dodger chasing a ball across the lawn. There weren’t too many people in the gardens today, but they didn’t exactly have the place to themselves either.

  Two staff members stood near a fountain between the trees, and there were benches nearby, wrought-iron with wooden slats across the seats. Was this where Joseph had slept on warm and cold nights?

  Olivia’s smile faded. She looked around and touched Jake’s shoulder. “Look there, back at the club house.”