Swindled (The Sandlin PI Series Book 1)

by S. E. Shepherd

  ‘Wenches. That’s it. Dances with wenches. I remember now.’

  ‘You spoil all my fun. Shall I ask her anyway?’

  Lottie twigged. ‘You fancy her?’

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’

  ‘Well … me. But, that’s only because I go for idiots like Chen.’

  ‘He’s not an idiot. He’s just a bit … disturbed.’

  ‘Oh great, and we all know why that is, don’t we?’

  ‘Try not to think about all that now, Lottie. Just enjoy the holiday. We’ve waited long enough to be able to travel again.’

  ‘I know. I’ll try. I never would have thought she was your type though.’

  ‘The cocktail girl? I like the odd piercing.’

  ‘Well, she seems like she’d definitely have a few odd ones.’ Lottie giggled.

  ‘And her hair’s a bit different. Not everyone can carry off a partially shaven head. Just because I like girls, it doesn’t mean I have to like girlie girls.’

  ‘I suppose not. Actually, I always thought you fancied me.’ Lottie laughed.

  ‘Maybe a bit. When I first met you. There’s no denying you’re beautiful. But you were as pretentious as a tiara.’

  ‘Ha ha! Maybe I was once, but not when I was showing you the ropes with my hand down the toilet.’

  ‘Just kidding. If I’m honest, you’re my best friend. Or like a kid sister. I just think of you as a stinky person who I love.’

  ‘Thank you. I think you’re stinky too.’ Lottie gave a warm smile.

  ‘How are things with Chen? By the way, is that definitely what we’re calling him now?’

  ‘He says he doesn’t mind me calling him Chen instead of Vinnie. I kind of like it. We’re still chatting quite a bit on the phone, and we’ve been out a few times – just as mates.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll ever be more than friends?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe we share too much history.’

  ‘Shame. He is a good-looking lad.’

  Lottie agreed. ‘Oh yeah. No doubt about it.’

  ‘And he obviously fancies you.’

  ‘Han, he pretended to be foreign, tricked me into sleeping with him and … well, do I need to remind you of the connection with my dad? Not to mention the fact that he took a bribe to leave me alone!’

  ‘I see your point. Maybe a full-on relationship is a bit much to hope for. It’s good that you’re friends though.’

  ‘Yeah. There’s no rush.’

  ‘At least he made his intentions clear before you got the money. You know you can trust him as far as that goes.’

  ‘Oh God, yeah. When he first asked me out, I was still dirt poor.’

  The cocktail waitress returned to see if they’d like any more drinks. Hannah took the opportunity to admire her up close, and Lottie handed her their now empty glasses. ‘These are going down far too easily.’

  ‘Oh well, what the hell, you’re in Praia Da Rocha.’ The waitress smiled.

  ‘Yes, we are.’ Lottie jumped up. ‘At last! You sort out what we’re having next, Han. I’m going for a swim. She left Hannah and the cocktail waitress chatting and executed an elegant dive into the pool.

  When she was little, they’d had an outdoor pool, and her dad had insisted she not only learn how to swim, but that she could also dive. Recently, just occasionally, she would be reminded of an incident in her childhood when her dad had been kind, or when he had appeared to care about her safety or her happiness, and she would find it almost impossible to reconcile that man with the loathsome one who terrorised Chen and his friends.

  Sadly, their pool had fallen into disrepair, and Douglas had directed the staff to place a tarpaulin over it for the winter. When the following spring had arrived, and they’d removed the tarpaulin and discussed the possibility of fixing it up, they’d found the sides of the pool to be slimy and green. Douglas had simply requested that the staff cover it back up. Eventually the tarpaulin had blown off, and the whole thing had become a stench of stagnant rainwater. By the time Lottie was nineteen, and Vincent had begun coming round for tea, the swimming pool had been concreted over and a series of flower beds stood in its place. You thought you could cover up every repugnant thing in your life, didn’t you, Dad?

  Lottie swam a few laps. The cool, fresh water felt good against her sun-kissed skin. Hannah was right. She mustn’t think about it all. She didn’t want anything to spoil this holiday. Not for her, or for Hannah. They deserved this treat. Climbing out of the pool, she made her way back to their sun loungers and discovered a new cocktail waiting for her. ‘This one’s different. What did you choose?’

  ‘It’s called a short trip to hell.’

  Lottie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Thanks! I’ve already been on one of those.’

  ‘I chose it because it has Red Bull in it. I’m planning on a long night.’

  ‘Are you now?’

  ‘Yes.’ Hannah waved her phone in the air. ‘I have the waitress’s number. She just gave it to me. She’s called Chloe, she finishes at eleven, and it would seem she’s rather partial to private investigators.’

  ‘Well, I’ll drink to that.’ Lottie picked up the cocktail and took a sip, grimacing slightly as the alcohol hit her. ‘How’s Dave getting on in your absence?’

  ‘He says we’ve had quite a few enquiries. It would seem there are lots of other families out there with secrets, just waiting for Sandlin Private Investigation to get involved. I think all the advertising is starting to pay off. By the way, have I thanked you for your investment?’

  ‘Yes, a million times. It’s my pleasure.’ Lottie smiled warmly. ‘You look after me, and I look after you. That’s how we roll. Besides, I believe in you. Is Dave still seeing Noah?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s building bridges there. His ex is still wary, I get that. But I think me giving him some work has gone a long way to help him get his life back on track, and he’s been really good about going to meetings.’

  ‘Just so long as you make it crystal clear that you’re the boss, not the other way around.’

  ‘I will. He’s not the Chippy I used to know. He understands it’s my company.’

  ‘I’m glad you took that random man’s face off your website too.’

  ‘Vinnie? Yes, so am I. My company has nothing to do with him now. My homepage is all about me!’ Hannah clasped her hands to her chest dramatically.

  ‘We’re a right couple of entrepreneurs, aren’t we? As soon as I get back, I’m going to pop over to see Bernard and start looking for the first pieces for my vintage furniture business. I just hope I can bring myself to sell them on.’

  ‘Well, you do have a lovely house of your own now. You’ve got the space to keep a few choice items.’

  ‘Yes, but that’s hardly the point of the business. Besides, my housemate is a right moany old cow. She’d probably complain.’

  As Hannah gave her a prod in the ribs, Lottie’s phone rang. An unknown number. She answered, ‘Lottie Thorogood. Who’s calling?’

  ‘Good afternoon, I’m calling from Grosvenor Yachts. I was given your number by the solicitors dealing with the last will and testament of a Mr Rocchino.’

  ‘Umm … hold on, please.’ Lottie placed her hand over the phone and explained who was calling.

  ‘Put it on speakerphone?’ Hannah mouthed.

  Lottie did as requested, and then returned to the call. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Mr Rocchino was known to us as Mr Russell. He owned a yacht, which until recently was still moored at the marina here in Lynton Haven.’

  ‘The Cristina?’

  ‘Oh, you know about it?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Right, well, the thing is, he was supposed to sell it back to us a little over eighteen months ago, but he didn’t show up for the appointment and we were unable to get hold of him to re-book. I’ve walked past it loads of times and I’ve never seen him on board. There was always a suitcase lying on the deck, but no sign of the man himself. I though
t he’d just forgotten it was there. I suspect anywhere other than Lynton Haven and the case would’ve been stolen by now. Anyway, after a while the fees for the mooring stopped being paid, and we weren’t sure what to do. It was as if he’d just disappeared.’

  ‘I see.’ Lottie raised her eyebrows at Hannah.

  ‘Then there was the small matter of the pandemic, and everything got put on hold. Eventually, earlier this year, we got a call from a firm of French solicitors. They confirmed the yacht was part of a Mr Rocchino’s estate. I think the fact that he used so many surnames slowed everything down further. So, we were finally authorised to sell it on behalf of the deceased.’

  ‘And you need to speak to me about the money?’ Lottie asked.

  ‘No, that’s all being dealt with by the solicitor. I just need to ask you a question, which I’ve already asked of the other beneficiary.’

  ‘The other beneficiary?’

  ‘Yes. His next of kin.’

  ‘Who did the rest of the money go to?’

  ‘I don’t think I’m allowed to say.’

  ‘That’s fair enough. But, this beneficiary, they were unable to answer your question?’

  ‘She did answer the question, yes. But I need to ask you as well. Besides, she isn’t a UK resident, so it’s probably better to check with you. In case you need to come here.’

  Lottie caught Hannah’s eye and they both smiled. It sounded like the other half of the money must’ve gone to Cristina. They were both pleased that Vincent’s family were being taken care of. After all, they had done nothing wrong.

  ‘I just need a decision from you about what to do with the two suitcases?’

  ‘Two?’

  ‘Yes, it turns out there were two suitcases on the boat. The one on the deck and another just down the steps, inside the cabin.’

  ‘What’s in them?’

  ‘Mostly clothes, some toiletries, that sort of thing. The other beneficiary said she didn’t want to keep anything.’

  ‘I’d say the same. As far as I’m concerned, you can give the contents to a charity shop. The suitcases too, come to think of it.’ Lottie wanted nothing to do with Vincent’s possessions. He was part of her past now.

  ‘You definitely don’t want to collect them?’

  ‘No. There’s nothing I need in them. Thanks.’

  ‘Right you are, Miss Thorogood. I just needed confirmation. Oh, and don’t worry about the blood – we’ve cleaned it up.’

  ‘Blood?’

  ‘Yes, there was some blood on the steps leading down to the cabin, and on the boom.’

  Lottie and Hannah exchanged another look. ‘How did it get on the boom?’

  ‘Seems it gave someone a nasty whack. Probably Mr Russell, umm … sorry, I mean Rocchino. I’m afraid it wasn’t tied up properly.’

  ‘He got hit by the boom?’

  ‘I’d say so, yes. He may have been sailing alone. It’s not easy bringing a yacht that size in by yourself; there’s so much to think about at the last minute. Perhaps he lost concentration for a moment. Plus, I did warn him not to change the name. It’s dreadfully unlucky, you see.’

  ‘Right. Well, thank you for the update.’ Lottie couldn’t wait to hang up.

  ‘No problem. Cheerio.’

  Lottie ended the call. To Hannah, she said, ‘Can you believe it? Knocked out by his own yacht!’

  ‘Poor old Vincent.’ Hannah laughed.

  ‘A toast.’ Lottie raised her glass. ‘What a fitting cocktail. To Vincent. Let’s hope he’s enjoying his own, not so short, trip to hell.’

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to all the friends who diligently read the early versions of this novel for me. Thank you also to Colin for the technical advice and David for living and breathing the

  characters with me, and for the geography lesson. Also, thanks to Ian, who gave me the confidence to be a storyteller.

  About the Author

  Sue Shepherd began her writing career in 2015, writing contemporary romance. Over the next couple of years, she created three novels with heart, laughs and naughtiness. Doesn't Everyone Have a Secret?, Love Them and Leave Them and Can’t Get You Out of My Head.

  Realising that one of the parts she enjoyed most about writing was deciding when to let the reader in on the secrets from her characters’ past, Sue switched genres and wrote this novel. Too fond of the main characters in Swindled to let them go, Sue decided to write her fifth novel, another suspense staring the accidental private investigative duo.

  Sue lives on the picturesque Isle of Wight with her husband, two sons, a standard poodle named Forrest and a Cavachon called Sky. Her passions in life are; her family, writing, the seaside and all the beautiful purple things her sons have bought her over the years. Ask Sue to plan too far in advance and you'll give her the heebie-jeebies and she'd prefer you not to mention Christmas until at least November!

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