Death Over Spilt Chowder

by Wendy Meadows

  Olivia walked up to it and pressed a finger to the buzzer button atop it. A merry tune rang out in the back from the room beyond an open door to her left.

  “Empty,” Jake said behind her. “See, I told you it’s—”

  “Just a minute!” Belinda’s soft tone was barely elevated to carry from what had to be the office. A crash rang out followed by a low, muffled squeal.

  “Are you all right back there?” Jake yelled.

  “Fine, fine,” she replied, followed by another crash-bang. Belinda shuffled into view, carrying a box in both arms. “Sorry.” She shuffled over to the reception desk and lowered the box onto it. “I’m reorganizing that shop today – no boat tours, unfortunately, but if you leave your name and number I can book you in for...wait a minute. You’re Olivia, right?”

  “That’s right,” Olivia said and offered her a toasty warm smile. “And we haven’t come to book a boat tour. We were – well, we were hoping we could talk to you about what happened at the Haunted Dining Tour.” It was the most delicate way to put it.

  Belinda bit down on her bottom lip immediately. She tucked mousy brown hair behind her ear. “I – I’m not sure we should talk about that.” Her gaze flicked to Jake, then back to Olivia. “It’s not respectful, and there’s already so much gossip flying around the Keys about what happened.” She drew a pair of glasses out of the top pocket of her uniform’s shirt and rammed them onto her face. “I – I have a lot to organize today. My mother just passed and I need to sort out her affairs. I’m sorry, I just can’t talk about…” She broke off and swallowed, audibly.

  Good heavens. “Are you all right, Belinda? I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Condolences,” Jake agreed.

  “I’ll be fine,” she muttered and glanced past them toward the exterior of the store. “I’d like to get it finished before George—” She caught herself before she got the rest of that sentence out too.

  George, eh? Apparently, there’s trouble in literal paradise. Why wouldn’t she want her husband’s help sorting out her mother’s estate?

  “Oh, well, we’ll be leaving then,” Jake said and dragged on Olivia’s forearm.

  But something was up here. Something smelled decidedly fishy, and it had nothing to do with the wharf and everything to do with Belinda’s shifty eyes and her constant compulsion to ensure her hair was in place.

  “Joseph was your friend,” Olivia said, blurting out instead of easing Belinda into the topic as she normally would have. “We were interested in who might’ve done this to him, Belinda. We just want whoever hurt him to be brought to justice, and if you talk to us about how you knew him and who he was, we might be able to figure out why they did what they did to him.”

  The woman paled right away. She rested her fingers on top of the unmarked box, her arm trembling ever so slightly. She opened her mouth and a strange keening sound escaped her. “I – I—”

  The front door of the boating tours building crashed inward. “Belinda!”

  They all jumped, and Jake and Olivia spun on the spot.

  George Gomez stormed into the room, sweat shining on his reddened face. He halted at the sight of the “visitors.”

  “What’s this?” he asked. “We’re closed today. Didn’t you tell them we’re closed today, Belinda?”

  “Yes,” she said softly, withdrawing into her shell even as they watched.

  “Then what are they still doing here?” George asked.

  “And hello to you too, Mr. Gomez,” Olivia said, cutting across whatever diatribe he had planned for his wife. “We came to speak with Belinda about—”

  “Boating,” Mrs. Gomez put in. “They came to book for tomorrow. I’ll write you down for half past nine. How does that sound? Party of two? I’m sure it will be wonderfully romantic.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “What do you say?”

  “That’s perfect,” Jake replied and looped his arm through Olivia’s. “Thanks, Belinda. See you then.” Swiftly, he guided Olivia out of the chromed out building and into the heat.

  “What was that about?” Olivia asked. “Did you see how afraid she was when George came in? Something’s up with them, Jake. I don’t like this at all.” She looked back at the front of the building and her skin tried to crawl right off her body. George stood there in front of the window, staring after them.

  If looks could kill, Olivia would’ve been floating face down in Biscayne Bay.

  “Come on,” Jake said. “We’ll talk about this another time. Let’s get back to the hotel for dinner. I’m starving.”

  How could he eat at a time like this?

  Chapter 13

  The generosity of strangers always cheered Olivia on her darkest days, and this day was no different. After arriving back at the hotel, they’d found the A’s and Sebby lounging out by the pool, all looking terribly bored and in foul moods from the heat. Dodger hadn’t so much as budged since they’d left that afternoon.

  Olivia had tasked herself with finding a method of making everyone happy and found it in the kitchen staff at the hotel. They’d agreed to let her and the A’s into the kitchen to mess around with some chocolate making as long as they shared the fruits of their chocolatey labor with the waiters and management staff.

  Making the chocolates would give Olivia time to think, too.

  “This is great, dear,” Alberta said from her spot in front of the gas burners. She’d set herself the task of melting the chocolate and ensuring it was smooth and creamy as it needed to be.

  “I think so,” Olivia replied. “We’ve been too caught up in heat and holiday to catch a moment for ourselves. After all, chocolate making is what we do best.”

  “I missed it greatly,” Alphonsine put in. Her French accent wasn’t as pronounced as it’d once been, but she still had a lovely roll to her ‘r’s which always brought images of the Eiffel Tower and brioche dipped in chocolate to the front of Olivia’s mind.

  Alph worked with the filling – a cherry nut concoction she’d invented specifically for their visit to Florida – while Alvira worked on a praline to incorporate with it.

  Olivia smiled at the little worker bees at their stations.

  The kitchen was a masterpiece, with silver counters, spider burners, a series of vast temperature controlled fridges with digital indicators on their fronts, and overhead lighting from metal lamps. Their section was separated from the rest only by an invisible barrier the Head Chef had denoted.

  The scents of cooking mingled with the freshly made chocolate, the praline, and the nutty-cherry mix. Olivia’s mouth watered nonstop. She hurried over to Alberta’s station and tested the chocolate, relishing the rich, creamy flavor. The chocolate slid down the back of her throat and coated it in utter bliss.

  “Perfect,” Olivia said. “Just perfect.”

  Alberta hummed low in her throat, then turned to Olivia. “Are you all right, dear?”

  “What? Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, just that you’ve been flitting all over the place ever since that horrible evening when that young man was murdered,” Alberta replied. “And we three know you too well to put it off as holiday jitters.”

  Olivia sighed. “Albie—”

  “Oh, don’t you Albie me. We all know the difference between Olivia on chocolates and Olivia on investigation. I only hope Jake is helping you with this one,” Alberta said and lowered her voice, shifting closer with her hand still wrapped around the end of the wooden spoon. “This one is tricky, after all. It’s not our home turf.”

  “Don’t worry about anything, all right?” Olivia patted her A, and her longtime friend, on the back. “I’m fine, and I’m not doing anything untoward.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Alberta replied. “But—”

  The doors to the kitchen swung inward then and admitted Jake, who brandished what looked to be a vellum envelope. The Head Chef let out a feral cry and closed in on his location. “You are not allowed in my kitchen,” he howle
d. “This is a private—”

  “I’m with the chocolate gang over there.” Jake swept past the man and hurried past the food and chefs chopping, sautéing and sizzling, busy but with enough time to shoot him dark looks for daring to enter their space. He halted in front of Olivia and presented her with the envelope.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  Olivia Cloud was printed across the creamy front in cursive writing. “Fancy,” she said.

  “Open it and find out. I’ve got one too.”

  “Did I?” Albie asked.

  “No,” Jake replied.

  “Oh, well how nice to be excluded from the activity yet again.” The A pursed her lips and focused on the chocolate again. Olivia patted her on the back and stepped away, holding the envelope between her fingers and in her gaze.

  “What is it?” Olivia asked and turned it over. She slipped her finger beneath the lip of the envelope and it “ticked” open.

  “Read it and find out. I’ll bet you anything you’ll have the same reaction I did.”

  Olivia slipped out a thick card and flipped it open.

  Dear Ms. Cloud,

  You are cordially invited to attend the opening gala of the Keys Homeless Need Love Too Charity, hosted by Albert Reed at the Keys Garden Club. Black tie only. Please bring—

  Olivia quit reading right then and lifted her gaze to Jake instead. “Is he serious?”

  “I know, right?”

  “He thinks – this is obviously… It’s a last ditch attempt to make him seem like he cares about people like Joseph, when really he hated his guts. You heard what the other staff members said. I mean, Albert is—”

  “I know,” Jake replied and caught her hand. He extracted the invitation from it and squinted at the writing. “It’s in two days. You don’t really want to go to this thing, do you? I mean, it’s a little strange that we were invited. We hardly know the guy.”

  “He’s trying to prove something,” Olivia replied. “He wants to show everyone, including those who were there the night it happened, that he’s innocent. That he cares. Well, I don’t buy it.” She kept her tone low. “I think he’s up to something and you know what, Jake?”

  “No, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

  “I’m going to find out exactly what it is.”

  Chapter 14

  The terrace at the Keys Garden Club had been festooned in fairy lights. Candles spluttered behind the glass shields of quaint little lamps on the wrought iron tables, and Olivia couldn’t summon any other emotion toward the decorations other than dread. The candle flames, guttering as they did, brought her right back to the Haunted Dinner Crawl.

  Jake slipped an arm around her waist and held her to his side. He was truly dapper in his tuxedo – a rental, of course – and Olivia had done her best to appear fancy in a sleek, black cocktail dress. Sleek because it was easy to move in, black because the event was in the evening and it would be far easier to lurk behind corners and eavesdrop on conversations this way.

  “I know we’re here to snoop,” Jake said in her ear, “but I must tell you that you look beautiful tonight, Olivia. You’re the most beautiful woman here.”

  She blushed at the compliment and cleared her throat, finally meeting his gaze. “Thanks, Jake. You’re not too shabby yourself.”

  Jake leaned a little closer. Olivia did too. They were only inches apart—

  The glass back doors of the terrace opened and Albert Reed himself strode into their midst dressed in a powder blue tuxedo that strained around his middle.

  “Here we go,” Jake said. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Albert announced to the waiting crowd of glitzy and glamorous men and women. “I’d like to welcome you to the opening event for the Keys Homeless Need Love Too Charity.”

  “He could’ve chosen a better name,” Olivia muttered. Jake stifled a laugh by turning it into a cough.

  “As you all know, I have a soft spot for homeless men and women in my heart. I believe that all people are born equally and have the same worth, and pursuing this dream has…”

  Olivia tuned out the obvious lies and spent her time studying the guests instead.

  There was Belinda Gomez, seated at one of the terrace tables all by her lonesome. She’d worn a flowery print ball gown and looked entirely miserable, her lips downturned at the corners.

  And there stood Detective Newman himself, not dressed in a tux or suit, but wearing his usual uniform, arms folded across his chest and clearly unimpressed by the evening’s proceedings thus far – which had included a few finger foods and cocktails, at least.

  Olivia searched the faces for familiarity, for anyone who might have been involved in Joseph’s murder.

  “Please, remember to donate before you leave and enjoy the free food,” Albert finished and spread his arms wide, grinning and totally clueless. A smattering of applause followed the “grand” ending of his speech.

  Olivia wasn’t in the mood for food for once. Instead, she was in the mood for exploration. “Come on,” she whispered and tugged on Jake’s arm. “Let’s slip away and do a little investigating of our own.”

  “Be careful, Olivia, Newman is right there and – what? You’ve got a really strange look on your face.”

  Olivia pointed to two darkened figures waning into the half-light in the garden. A man and a woman, one tall, and one slightly shorter. “Is that? No, it can’t be. But it must – oh my goodness.”

  “What?”

  “Come on,” Olivia said. “We’ve got to catch up to them.”

  “Who? Olivia? Who are you talking about?”

  “Quiet,” she hissed as they hurried across the lawn, pretending they were taking a leisurely stroll rather than a mad cap dash toward their targets.

  It made sense, now, why Belinda and George had fought and why she’d simply shut down the minute her husband had entered the room. Oh goodness, it made terrible sense.

  “Poor Belinda,” Olivia whispered.

  “I am so confused,” Jake replied. She pressed a finger to his lips and led him behind a hedge. She risked a peek over it, then ducked back down, her heart pounding a pattern out against the inside of her throat.

  The two figures, well, the two people, were right on the other side, arm in arm.

  “I’m glad we could do this,” George Gomez said and followed the sentiment up with the wet smack of a kiss.

  Olivia grimaced. Poor, poor Belinda. No wonder she’s got that haunted look about her.

  “Me too,” Karen replied, her voice clear and musical in the garden. “I didn’t think we’d get the opportunity to sneak away tonight, but this is important, George. We need to talk. In fact, you should probably be sitting down for this.”

  Jake had stiffened beside Olivia in the interim, but held back his comments about George’s infidelity in the darkness.

  Olivia glanced back up at the building, barely visible between trees now, and listened hard. The rush of the fountain was distant, the voices close to them. This was almost too easy. And too sad.

  The creak of George and Karen taking seats on a bench split her melancholy down the middle. She refocused on the “couple.”

  “What do you want to talk about, darling?” George purred. “You know, you can tell me anything.”

  “This whole thing with the hobo, George, it’s starting to bother me terribly. You know, the police believe that I did it, that I wrote some note to him asking him to meet me at the dinner crawl, and that’s just not true. You and I both know that.”

  A grave silence followed.

  “I don’t like being accused of things I didn’t do,” Karen whispered. “And Albert’s only made it worse. You know, he believes that—”

  “Let me stop you there, sweetheart,” George said. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. You didn’t do anything wrong, so there’s no reason for you to be concerned. Our secret is safe. No one will ever know what’s gone on between us an
d that’s what matters.”

  “George, I can’t stay here any longer,” Karen replied. “I didn’t come to the Keys with this in mind. I didn’t think I’d ever meet the man I wanted to marry here and that he would be married himself. It’s a disaster. The whole affair is a disaster.”

  Another smacking, wet kiss sound followed. Olivia and Jake exchanged a grimace.

  “It’s too difficult, George. As soon as Newman gives me permission to leave town, I’m going. I’m sorry. You can either follow me or—”

  “You know I can’t do that, not with Belinda and…”

  “Belinda!” The thump of two feet hitting the ground. “Belinda! I am so tired of hearing about Belinda. You know what, George, if you’re so concerned about her, maybe you two should just stay married.”

  “Karen, wait! Karen!” Footsteps rushed across the grass and the gentle cries from George faded out.

  Olivia and Jake rose from their crouch slowly, shaking their heads. “Sad,” Olivia whispered, “but I guess this gives us another lead. We should talk to Belinda now, while George is, well, not to be crass, but while he’s distracted.”

  Jake took her hand and they walked back to the garden club together, both lost in thought, none of it good.

  Chapter 15

  Olivia and Jake had made it two steps when the shriek rang out.

  It echoed across the lawn, and the chatter up on the terrace quieted instantly. People spun and squinted out into the dark, hands on their brows shielding their eyes from the light of the lampposts.

  “Uh oh,” Jake said.

  “What was that?” Olivia asked.

  “Now, I don’t want to be pessimistic here, but that sounded an awful lot like it came from the direction Karen and George just left.” Jake turned and looked back at the hedge, and Olivia followed his line of sight.

  He wasn’t wrong, and that realization filled her with dread.