Raising Prosperity

by Cherie Mitchell

Prosperity walked back to join Reuben alongside the Blue Jay yacht. “That was interesting.”

  “Yeah? Does he know where Kruger is?”

  “I didn’t have the chance to ask him. He thought I was looking for drugs. Turns out he’s supplied both Ophelia and Mish, which was a fascinating snippet that I wasn’t looking for but I’m glad to know it.”

  Reuben went to stride down the wharf after the man but Prosperity put a hand on his arm to stop him.

  “Don’t go after him. He might be a useful contact to have in the future and I don’t want you to go raising his suspicions by asking too many questions. He told me to come back tomorrow and ask for Marty if I want to buy any Mad Dog.”

  “What?! He told you all that? Why would he do that? He doesn’t know you from a bar of soap.”

  Reuben’s shock was evident and Prosperity realized, with almost the same amount of shock as Reuben was experiencing, that a stranger had never casually offered him drugs. Where had this man been hiding all his life? Was he somehow born a cop?

  “I insinuated that Ophelia and Mish had recommended him and he went along with it. Knows both of them. Seems we’ve found the source of the party drug that was found in Ophelia’s system. That’s another of my little check boxes ticked,” she said smugly.

  “We need to get a bigger check box ticked. I’m going aboard.” Reuben jumped across the small gap between the wharf and the deck before turning back to hold out his hand. “Come on. We’ll take a look around.”

  Prosperity hesitated. “You can’t do that! It’s private property.”

  “Police business. Come on.” He wiggled his fingers impatiently and Prosperity allowed him to haul her across the gap.

  Even the deck boards felt expensive beneath Prosperity’s feet, almost as if the varnish itself were made of melted-down dollar bills. She ran her hand across the gleaming chrome of the trim and inhaled the scent of endless money, endless luxury, and a life she knew she would never live.

  “Hello? Anyone here?” Reuben checked out the cabin and called down below decks but no one answered him back.

  “What’s up there, Ruby?” Prosperity squinted in the sun as she gazed up at a ladder leading onto the second deck.

  “Probably a hot tub, lounging chairs - that type of thing.”

  He put both hands on the ladder and lifted himself up to peer onto the next level.

  “Yeah, just as I thought. Party central.” He let go of the ladder and dropped back down beside Prosperity. “No one up there either.”

  “Should we go below decks?” She looked dubiously at the steps leading down. It was all very well to walk around on the deck of someone else’s yacht but walking into the interior felt more than a little intrusive.

  “Hello? Lance? Mr. Kruger?” Reuben called into the space. He hesitated for mere seconds and then swung himself down.

  “Should I come with you?” Prosperity skipped around anxiously but she didn’t venture down. She could hear Reuben walking around below but she couldn’t see him anymore.

  “Come down and have a look.” Reuben’s voice echoed up to reach her ears. Prosperity took a deep breath and followed him down the steps.

  The lower deck was nothing short of breathtaking. Whoever had named the yacht Grandiose hadn’t been kidding. Blonde wood paneling covered the walls, the furniture looked as if it had just fallen from the pages of a glossy fashion magazine, and the ornaments, sculptures, and artwork would not have been out of place on the auctioneer’s bench at Christie’s Auction House.

  “Wow,” Prosperity breathed. “This is ah-ma-zing.”

  “It’s not bad,” Reuben agreed. He raised his voice to call for Lance again but still there was no answer.

  “We should get out of here,” Prosperity whispered. Her sense of uneasiness was increasing by the second. “We have no right to be down here.”

  “Yeah, I guess we should go. There’s no one here.”

  Prosperity felt better as soon as they were back on the deck but Reuben was still determined to poke around; kicking at a coil of rope here, pulling at an awning edge here, and running his fingers beneath a rounded curve of trim there. “What are you doing, Ruby?”

  “Just having a look around.” He stood with his hands on his hips and stared out across the marina at the forest of masts. “I wonder where our man is?”

  “Have you tried phoning him again?”

  “Several times. He doesn’t pick up.”

  Reuben jumped back onto the wharf and Prosperity followed before he could offer to help her down.

  “Wait. I want to get a photo of her. This is probably the closest I’ll ever get to a yacht of this class.” She pulled her phone from her bag and snapped a few shots for her Insta feed. “Here, can you take one of me standing next to her? I can pretend she’s mine.”

  Prosperity positioned herself to show off her best angles and duck-faced into the camera as Reuben took a couple of photos.

  Reuben passed her phone back and looked over at the yacht where Marty had been working earlier. “Your friend never came back. I guess we’ve done all we can do here. Time to make like a drum and beat it.”

  Prosperity looked down at her phone as it pinged in her hand. She felt a sudden burst of excitement as she read the text. It seemed the day wasn’t over after all.

  “Can you take me back with you to the office? Chase Berenstein has just messaged to ask if he can come in to see us this afternoon.”

  30

  Do You Tattoo?

  Officer Ryley was signing off for the day when Prosperity and Reuben arrived back at the P.D. He stopped to talk to them for a few minutes, scratching at his hands in agitation as he chatted. Prosperity handed him her tube of hand-cream without a word—obviously allergy season had started early on the island this year.

  “Prosperity?” Sophie and her soft voice edged up behind Prosperity. She glanced shyly at Reuben but he wasn’t paying her any attention. “Prosperity, there is someone here to see you. He’s waiting in the reception.”

  “Chase.” Prosperity tapped Reuben’s elbow to let him know she was leaving before following Sophie back down the corridor. “Thanks for letting me know, Sophie.”

  “Happy to help.” Sophie, humming the Rump Gum jingle, disappeared through the door leading to the lab while Prosperity strode on to greet Chase.

  Chase looked different from the last time Prosperity had seen him. Today he wasn’t wearing his red Fat Ronnie’s uniform and instead he’d dressed himself in a tight white t-shirt that showed off his abs and a pair of dark denim jeans that must’ve been tailored specifically for him. Prosperity could see at once why Ophelia had found him too good to pass up. Chase Berenstein was one quality cut of prime beefsteak.

  “Hi, Chase! It was good to hear from you. Come through to Reuben’s office where we can have a private conversation away from any distractions.”

  Reuben was on the phone when they reached his office and Prosperity courteously stayed outside with Chase while they waited for him to finish. “How long have you lived in Martha’s Vineyard, Chase?”

  “A few months, although I think me and the island are soon due to part ways.” He smiled a million dollar smile and Prosperity felt her knees give a little wobble. “I’m a free agent right now, cruising through life and taking each day as it comes. I have an offer in Canada that I’m looking at, otherwise I might take a trip to the Caribbean. I have plenty of options.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” She steadied her wobbly knees and led the way into Reuben’s office as he hung up his call. “We’re interested to hear what you have to tell us today.”

  “I don’t know how much use it will be, but you did say to let you know if I thought of anything.”

  “Take a seat, Chase. You’d be surprised at how often the information that the informant thinks is irrelevant turns out to be much more than that.” Reuben sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head, giving off vibes of settling himself in for a casual conversation between two bud
dies. Prosperity looked on in admiration, impressed by Reuben’s various interviewing techniques. He always seemed to roll them out at just the right time.

  “Well, it’s a little personal but I thought I’d tell you before I leave the island. I’d hate to think you were spending time on investigating this aspect of the case when I know it has nothing to do with Ophelia’s death.”

  “Go on,” Reuben prompted.

  Chase threw a sheepish glance at Prosperity. “Excuse my language but some of it is necessary for what I’m about to say.”

  “Explain it however you need to explain it. I’m sure I’ve heard it all before and probably more than once.” Prosperity hoped she sounded empathetic.

  Chase turned his attention back to Reuben, approaching the conversation as one man to another. “Ophelia was one hot chick, as I’m sure you are aware. She had big appetites and she wasn’t afraid to fulfill them.”

  Reuben nodded his head, the epitome of a man who understood, and sat forward to listen.

  “I know she was seeing at least one other guy … a singer, I think.”

  “Pinnacle,” Prosperity murmured, but she hastily shut her mouth when Reuben cast a warning look her way.

  “Pinnacle. That’s him. Anyway, Ophelia and I hooked up whenever our schedules allowed it. I saw her on the night she died, as I’ve already told you, and I also saw her the day before that. We had something special we wanted to do on that day.”

  Prosperity surreptitiously eyed Chase’s biceps, imagining how it would feel to do something special with Chase Berenstein. She was astonished when he suddenly rose from his chair and began to undo the button on his jeans. “It might be better if I show you.”

  Prosperity licked her lips nervously. She was more than willing to see what Chase was about to reveal but he’d chosen a very public arena for his display. She looked over at Reuben but he seemed to be as puzzled as she was.

  Chase turned around and dropped his jeans and boxer shorts to reveal a tattoo on his taut, tanned left butt cheek. A tattoo that looked very similar to one that Prosperity now had detailed knowledge of. “That’s the same as Ophelia’s tattoo!”

  “Right.” Chase buttoned his pants and turned back to face them. “We went to get matching tattoos. I figured you would’ve seen Ophelia’s during her postmortem and I wanted to explain the significance so you could rule it out as having nothing to do with her murder.”

  “I’m intrigued to hear about this. I’ve spent hours trying to decipher the meaning.” Prosperity was a little disappointed that Chase had put his pants back on quite so quickly. If she’d had her wits about her, she could’ve asked to take a photo of the tattoo. For research and comparison purposes only, of course.

  “Yes, Prosperity and I have had several conversations about Ophelia’s tattoo. What does it mean?”

  Chase sat back down and addressed Reuben directly again, two men discussing men’s business. “The bluebird symbolizes the bluebird of happiness. Corny, I know. However, there’s nothing wrong with a bowl of corniness if the mood takes a person.”

  Prosperity clapped her hands. “My mama always used to say that!”

  Reuben rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply.

  Chase turned sparkling eyes on her. “She did? Well, how about that?”

  “Go on,” Reuben interrupted impatiently. “What does the rest of the tattoo mean?”

  “The word ECSTATIC simply means what it says. As I’ve already explained, Ophelia and I had a healthy sexual connection and we wanted to celebrate that.”

  Reuben nodded. “Makes sense. And the leaping fish?”

  Chase shot another sheepish look at Prosperity.

  “That was a private joke between us. Ophelia said that a man’s private parts always reminded her of fish. She said you throw back the small ones, you keep the medium ones, and you mount the large ones. The leaping fish was a symbol to remind us both of how much she’d enjoyed mounting my, errrr, large manhood.”

  Prosperity quickly dropped her head to hide her expression from both Reuben and Chase. She made wide eyes down at her lap and hastily pulled herself together. Oh, my.

  Chase hauled himself out of his chair, luckily unaware of Prosperity’s racing pulse. “Well, I just wanted to pass that on. Good luck with the rest of the investigation.”

  “Bye, Chase.” Prosperity watched him leave, taking her time to admire his tidy rear view. At least she now knew Ophelia had probably died happy, the lucky woman.

  “That was unexpected. I guess our tattoo mystery is finally solved and surprise, surprise, it wasn’t a cryptic clue about Ophelia’s death.” Reuben’s mouth twitched. “Should I say I told you so?”

  “I wouldn’t risk it if I was you.” Prosperity fished around in her bag. “I’m giving Mish a call before I go. The sneaky snake didn’t tell us everything. He should’ve known that we’d be interested in speaking to Ophelia’s drug dealer.”

  Mish picked up at the second ring and Prosperity jumped right in.

  “Hi! Prosperity here. I just bumped into a friend of yours. Ever heard of a man named Marty? He certainly knows you.”

  Mish was silent on the other end of the line and Prosperity was beginning to think he’d gone when he finally spoke.

  “Okay, okay. I wasn’t entirely truthful with you, but what else did you expect? I’m not about to spill everything in front of a cop. Yes, Ophelia and I used the same dealer. Marty has supplied me with recreational drugs in the past but I’m clean now, I promise.”

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me, Mish?”

  “Nothing, I swear.” She heard him exhale into the mouthpiece and she could imagine him fondling his wallaby as he spoke. “There is something. I don’t know if it’s any use to you or not. Marty works for Lance Kruger. Used to sell us some pills he called Spinners. Apparently, some kind of byproduct from a machine that spins off the chemicals from one of the candy vats. Gets you super high and fast.”

  Something clicked in Prosperity’s mind, but it still didn’t make much sense.

  “So, Marty isn’t just a deckhand?”

  “No, he’s one of his drug mules. But you never heard that from me.”

  “Good boy, Mish. Just remember, we know where you live.” She jabbed her finger at the End Call button and looked up to see Reuben looking at her curiously.

  “Do we know where he lives?”

  “No,” she said airily. “But I’ve always wanted to say that. Reuben, he told me that Marty is one of Lance’s drug mules.”

  Reuben raised his eyebrows. “Well, well. Looks like we’re finally getting somewhere. Lance Kruger has suddenly made himself a major person of interest in this inquiry. I’ll keep trying his number. We need to talk to him ASAP.”

  “I know.” She applied hand-cream and was surprised when Reuben held out his hand for the tube. “You want some of my hand-cream?”

  “Yeah. My hands have started with this weird itching.” He squirted out a dab onto his palm and passed the tube back. “Will we see you in the office over the next few days?”

  She picked up her bag and swung it onto her shoulder. “I’ve got school tomorrow but I’ll be back in on Tuesday. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday, Reuben.”

  31

  Caught In The Act

  “Prosperity!!!” A wailing Meghan plastered herself all over the driver’s side window of the Beetle as soon as Prosperity pulled into the campus parking lot. “Prosperity, you have to help me!”

  Prosperity cautiously opened the door, careful not to catch any part of Meghan in the hinges. “What’s up, Meghan?”

  “Can we talk? Privately?” Meghan scooted around to the passenger door and jumped in without waiting for an answer. “Something terrible has happened. My life is over!”

  Prosperity eyed her warily. “Bad medical results?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” Meghan sagged dramatically against the back of the seat. “But I’m still going to die. The Dean walked in on us.”

  She t
urned her head and locked eyes with Prosperity to drive her point home.

  “Us being Jeremy and myself and what he walked in on being the kind of situation that I hoped the Dean would never see.”

  Prosperity exhaled a long breath to buy herself time. She hadn’t figured on arriving into a mess like this today, not when there was so much going on with the Ophelia case.

  “Where is Professor Leigh now?”

  Meghan readjusted her clothes and pulled down the visor to check herself out in the mirror. “With the Dean. What am I going to do? I was failing the class anyway, even without Jeremy’s … errrrr … extra tutoring.”

  “You could do what everyone else does who wants to earn a degree and actually put the work in to earn it,” Prosperity said flatly.

  “No chance. I’m too far behind. Besides, I have the feeling that I’m not going to be welcome in Jeremy’s class after this.” She folded her arms and sunk down lower in her seat. “I might as well be dead.”

  Prosperity resisted the urge to check the time and hurry Meghan along. “Sleep on it. Nothing ever looks as bad in the morning.”

  “Sleeping on it is what got me into all this trouble in the first place.” Meghan sat up again and shot Prosperity a calculating look. “You could help me.”

  “How?”

  “Obviously I can’t go back to class. My chances of graduating are zero. I need to do something with my life or my parents will kill me. A job at the P.D. would help.”

  “You expect me to help you get a job when you aren’t going to finish the course?”

  “Yes.”

  Prosperity wished she could tell Meghan to forget it but unfortunately, her mama’s voice was loud and clear in her ear, urging her to be kind and neighborly to those less fortunate. Aside from that, her class was about to start and she didn’t want to begin what was promising to be a very long day by stepping out on the wrong foot.

  “Okay. Drop into the P.D. on Friday. I can’t guarantee anything but we’ll see what we can do.”