Murder, She Floats Read online

  “That would have been better. But no, he’s into someone new. He told me as much when he cancelled our date. The nerve of him–I’m a Patone for goodness’ sake. I run this town.”

  “Poor bastard,” I mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Time to get plastered.” I held my glass up. “Anyway, it’s his loss.”

  “Amen to that.” She clinked her glass against mine.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I decided to play dumb, see what Kaitlyn had to say about the contest.

  “You just did.”

  “I saw some four wheelers and a boat with no lights on out late tonight. What would they be doing, do you think?”

  “Probably looking for the world’s most hyped coin like everyone else. This town is swarming with tourists in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Right, the contest. I just got back into town tonight so I haven’t really heard or seen much.”

  She smirked. “Yeah, the new marketing girl in Daddy’s office read the piece in that magazine on Caravan and deemed the lost treasure a great tourism opportunity. You know Daddy, he loves to exploit. So, the town council planted a fake 1913 Liberty Head nickel. They’re offering a million pennies–that’s ten thousand dollars–and a free week at Gypsy Caravan Manor to whoever finds it by Monday.

  “Speaking of boats and nocturnal activity, you know, for a moment I thought Olivia was the other woman. I saw my man get off a boat and I followed him here. I’d heard Olivia left town to travel for six months but thought maybe that was just a cover so they could sneak around together. But when you answered the door, and well…” She snorted with laughter and I didn’t know whether to laugh along or be offended. Instead I coughed, sending the burning sensation of alcohol through my nose.

  “Wait a minute; your mystery man is Ben?”

  “Yes, of course, and I mean it’s not like you’re his type,” she waffled, “and I know there’s no way in hell he’d choose you over me, so I’m back to being stumped. Tell me, Penelope Trubble, what was he doing with you tonight?”

  “And you saw him on a boat tonight?” Well, that explained why he got all squirrelly when I mentioned it.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Kaitlyn started to sway, and I didn’t know how to tell her that I didn’t know what the hell had happened tonight either. Instead I yawned.

  “I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”

  “Aren’t you going to tell me what he was doing here?”

  Anger suddenly pitted in my stomach. What was so wrong with me? I capped the gin, returned it to its hiding place, and shoved the empty wine bottle to the bottom of the recycling bin where it wouldn’t remind me of time spent with this she-devil. “Actually, Kate—”

  “My name is Kaitlyn.”

  “Fine, K-a-i-t-l-y-n,” I said, over pronouncing every letter. “It’s just as you suspected. Ben and I were knocking boots after a little joyride on the lake. You caught us. I guess you’ll want to go confront him now, huh?”

  “Oh, please.” Kaitlyn started laughing like I’d just given her the punch line to one of Tina Fey’s jokes. “You crack me up. But seriously, I can’t drive when I’ve been drinking, and it’s not like I’m walking home now.”

  “Wait–where are you going? The door is that way.”

  But Kaitlyn ignored me. She staggered into my bedroom where, much like her recent lover, she fell face down into my bed. She twitched and wriggled a little before starting to snore. Birds of a feather, I thought to myself… particularly crows or seagulls or some other horrid winged beasts. Then I picked up my phone and hovered over the record button. She’d be outraged to find out she snored. But that would be mean, right? Something only she would do.

  Instead I lifted her head to the side so she wouldn’t suffocate and crawled in next to her. Only the little devil on my shoulder wouldn’t shut up. So, I grabbed my phone and hit record. What can I say? I’m petty.

  Chapter Three

  _____________

  M y cell phone buzzed on my nightstand. I rolled over with a groan and checked the caller ID. Rebel. “Um, hello, no calls before 7 a.m.”

  My best friend griped into the phone. “Are you home early?”

  I sat up and gasped. The spot next to me was empty of all annoying drunks. Thank God. Maybe it had all been a really bad nightmare. Wait a minute. “How did you know I’m back in town?”

  Rebel Rouse had been my best friend since grade school with her soft, dark hair; a cute-as-hell smattering of freckles over her nose; hazel eyes; and a wicked temper when you pissed her off–like by not telling her you were in town two days early.

  “How do you think?” she confirmed. “Big mouth Patone. I ran into her outside of Pike’s. Eve teased her for doing the walk of shame and she said she’d had a wild girl’s night with you. You better not have had any midnight margaritas with her.”

  “As if. I only dance around the kitchen in my pajamas with you. Are you coming over?”

  “Be there in ten.”

  I hung up the phone, flicked on the radio and showered in less than five minutes. The droplets of water on my naked body felt deliciously cool against the heavy morning air but I pulled on my robe and wandered outside. The thermometer was already on the rise, but a soft breeze rustled the tree leaves and the scent of pine and wood smoke filled the air. I leaned against the deck railing and inhaled deeply, my senses alive. Everything smelled cleaner and crisper than in the city. Birds chirped in the boughs of the birch and maple trees that surrounded the cabin. I glanced around, a deep sense of contentment settling inside of me. It may not have been what I was planning, but it was good to be home.

  Speaking of home, I had to get to town and talk to Dad about the treasure hunt. I let down my hair as I walked back inside and rubbed at it with the thick cotton towel, stirring up the medicinal smell of lavender shampoo as I mentally prepared a to-do list in my head: research and write the tale of the lost 1913 nickel; ask around about Ben the midnight molester to satisfy my curiosity; oh, and rent some diving equipment.

  My phone rang again. Who’s calling me now? I tossed the towel over the back of a chair and reached for my floral romper. Rompers were my go-to summer garment, because if worn in the right pattern and material one could go sans undergarments. I slapped on some deodorant and twisted half my hair into a top-knot.

  “You still coming?” I asked, seeing Rebel’s name again.

  “I’m already here.”

  “Well, why aren’t you inside already?”

  “Because you didn’t answer the door, and I didn’t know if you had your gun handy. I didn’t want to surprise you!”

  I giggled. “No gun. Anyway, if I did, there would be two dead bodies here already today, and I’d have called you to help me bury them.”

  “And you know I would have brought my own shovel, girl.”

  I hustled to the front door and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I’d returned but my eyelids were heavy by the time I unloaded. I planned to surprise you this morning.”

  “I figured as much,” she said, her stoic nature working overtime. “Besides, you had to deal with Kaitlyn Patone… that’s punishment enough for any crime.”

  “And Ben Baboon. He crawled into bed with me right before she arrived. I kicked him out.”

  “He did not. You’re lying.”

  “I swear I’m telling the truth.” I forced myself not to laugh as I raised my hands in surrender.

  “Why didn’t you call me to come over?”

  “Because if I didn’t even want to be here, why would I make you join me?” I stretched and reached across the table. “Is that my coffee?”

  “Depends. Are you going to give me all the details?”

  “For a jolt of caffeine, right now I would do anything.”

  She pushed the paper cup across the table–a yellow and pink striped cup that read Cookies & Corsets. “Did he try to kiss you?”

  “No kissing. I did get to see
his hairy belly button when he got out of my bed and stood up to raid my kitchen.”

  “You’re kiddin’ me.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I bathe old men for a living, and the idea of Ben in my bed curls my toes.”

  “Yeah. The best part came when Kaitlyn showed up right after.”

  She set her coffee down and covered her mouth with both hands in a display of shock. “So, what was she doing here?”

  I threw up my hands and did my best impression of a guest on Jerry Springer. “Protecting her man, I guess.”

  “Gross.”

  I nodded. Kaitlyn was actually a super-attractive girl–long, velvet brown hair, bright green eyes, and a tall and muscular frame. She reminded me more of her Aunt Lulu than of her mother, Helen. Unfortunately she had the personality of a skunk. And in this case she was ugly by association–association with Ben.

  “Kaitlyn’s heart’s broken. She heard whispers of a sidepiece and confronted him. He basically dumped her but didn’t tell her who for. In true stalker fashion, she tracked him down to Olivia’s cabin. Boy, was she surprised to see me.”

  “She would have done better to look in Gypsy Caravan Manor. That’s where he’s staying.”

  “How’d you hear about that? Work?” Rebel worked at the Bohemian Retirement Community.

  “Where else do I go? Ben’s mom, Angie, stopped to visit her Aunt Fran. Angie’s rant knew no volume control and thus I knew Ben’s girlfriend refused to stay at her place.”

  I snorted.

  “Girlfriend, huh? I wonder if this is the so-called sidepiece Kaitlyn is broken up over.”

  “Kaitlyn’s a fool if she thought that boy would settle down. The whole town told her so–her mother was none too pleased. Ben Baboon could be married to the perfect woman, and he’d still shove his stick in a wood chipper if you painted lipstick on it.”

  I shuddered at the image.

  “I can’t believe Ben crawled into bed with you. Did you kick him in the berries this time?”

  Ben had disturbed my sleep once before as a teen–after a bonfire by the lake, and far too much beer from the Keg. I’d blown off his advances and snuck off to my tent, only to be woken by him crawling on top of me. Thankfully Rebel had ousted him. You’d think the daughter of a private detective would have had the guts to knee the guy in the balls, but sadly my spine–unlike Ben–had not stiffened just yet. After that night, I quit ballet and started pumping weights, and running daily. I took up martial arts, and eventually moved onto criminology and police foundations. I determined never to feel helpless again. Part of me wanted to thank him for inspiring me to become the kick-ass woman I was today–the other part of me just wanted to kick his ass.

  “I thought about it. He looked sort of pathetic and not worth the assault charge.” I breathed out.

  “Yeah, he’s let himself go, hasn’t he?”

  I nodded. “Nature’s way of protecting the female population.”

  “Ten years too late. By the way, Pike says to come say hello.”

  “I miss her,” I mused as I took a sip. “How’s she doing?”

  “Really good. This is her coffee. She started catering about five years ago and then opened up a café, and she’s been in her new location since May.”

  “I will definitely check the place out. Where is it?”

  “Across from the spooky old Doctor’s Mansion. She’s sharing the space with Kaitlyn’s aunt. You remember Lulu McCloskey?”

  “Of course. The vintage clothing shop lady? I bet the hipsters love that.”

  “Everyone loves it. Anyway, let’s catch up tonight. I’m on my way to take Grams to a pancake breakfast at the town hall. She needs help to get ready these days and she absolutely will not forgo her social life. But I want to hear all the nitty gritty details of your midnight callers when you come over. I’m done work at 6 p.m.”

  “I won’t skimp on a single detail–not even the holes in Ben’s underthings.” I smiled. “Although you’ll wish I had.”

  Chapter Four

  _____________

  W isps of red hair whipped at my face as I flew down the dirt road in my James Bond spy car–that’s what Rebel called my late mother’s black ‘58 Corvette convertible. I referred to it as black beauty. I slowed down and turned onto the main road, entering the sleepy town of Bohemian Lake, where a couple chatted outside the butcher shop and a teenager swept the sidewalk in front of the antiques shop next door.

  I looked across the street to where Rebel had said Pike’s new café was located. Sure enough, a large sign with the words ‘Cookies & Corsets Café’ hung over the café’s entrance. As I absorbed the familiar surroundings, I knew for sure that I’d made the right decision. The change of scenery my hometown provided would give me the chance to forget about my recent breakup. I needed to reconnect with old friends and get back to my roots.

  I turned the corner and found a spot in front of Dad’s office, which housed both Private Eye Investigations and Private Ink Print. Aside from the tourists loading up on Pike’s gourmet coffee, the place was quiet. Dad hadn’t made it downstairs yet so I had to use my key. I pulled my jean jacket on first knowing the air-conditioning would be cranked.

  The fresh, metallic tang of ink mixed with cologne and leather washed over me as I stepped inside and set my computer satchel down. The walls around my desk were a rich, vibrant blue and the hardwood flooring was grey. There were black-and-white paintings of boats and nature on the walls, and the furniture in the front room outside of Dad’s office was leather. When I worked for him part-time as a detective I mostly spent my time in a shitbox car observing people faking injuries. Otherwise I worked at home on my laptop. At sixteen I had penned a column on teenage life in a small town, which proved a hit with the little old ladies. Believe it or not, they loved hearing what the local hooligans were up to. I guess it was easier than their usual methods which involved the police scanner–yes they’re illegal, and no, that doesn’t stop them–and standing in the window, eavesdropping. The success of that first column, and my love of the offices Dad shared with the newspaper, was what had made me choose journalism after failing horribly at being a police officer.

  Once I got inside and fired up my laptop, I downloaded a copy of the magazine article on Caravan Manor that mentioned the 1913 Liberty Head nickel.

  “Hey Pumpkin! I didn’t expect to see you here today. What a nice surprise.” Dad handed me a non-fat latte from Cookies & Corsets. “Pike said you already had a coffee today, and she’d better see you before she makes a third or she’ll chase you down.”

  “Good lord, if I had a third coffee she’d never catch me.” I smiled. “I thought you weren’t expecting me,” I said, standing to give him a hug.

  “Yeah, well gee whiz, I’m not blind kiddo. Your mama’s vintage ‘vette out front kinda sorta tipped me off. Not too many of those around,” he said with a wink. “Is my fitness fanatic getting lazy in her old age? It’s just a fifteen minute walk from the cabin, ain’t it? Or are you staying somewhere else?”

  “I was in a hurry.” It took me all of thirty seconds to fill Dad in.

  “Oh jeez,” he said. “I think you’d better come stay here with me if Olivia’s cabin has a rotating door.”

  “Dad, you live in a one-room apartment upstairs. There is literally nowhere for me to sleep. Anyway, I’m fine. So, did you know about this contest?”

  “Yes, but I’ve been so busy just getting up to speed on things. It was such a surprise when Teddy died last month. My caseload was full but I couldn’t see this place run by a stranger now, could I? So, now we’re playing catch-up, but I’ve got you, right, darlin’?”

  Dad was a handsome guy in his fifties. He had thinning gray hair and bright blue eyes. In fact, he was the human version of his office–charming and cozy. He was the owner, as well as one of three full-time detectives at Private Eye, which was why he lived above the office. Fraudulent insurance claims and cheating spouses were his bread and butter, but every now and then h
e’d get something a little grittier. He always consulted me on those cases thanks to my brief jaunt on the force.

  “Of course you have me. The contest officially starts at dawn tomorrow, but there were already boats out on Bohemian last night.”

  Dad relaxed back into his black leather swivel chair, and hoisted his legs onto his desk with a grunt, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Well, the town already knows about the contest but we can still go after the human-interest angle. You know Nana Vianu over at the Caravan Manor?”

  I had been out of town a long while but I still remembered all the locals by name, and who could forget Nana?

  “She still a tornado in pearls?” I asked, thinking of all the time I’d spent in her home with her granddaughter Mallory and adopted daughter Dani.

  “And some,” a woman said, stepping into the office.

  “Mrs. Berns,” I said. “It’s nice to see you.”

  The woman didn’t look much older than the last time I’d seen her. She had to be in her sixties, but she could have easily passed for late forties. She was trim but not too skinny. Her long hair was a combination of red, blonde, and medium golden brown and today she had it pulled back in a ponytail, its glossy waves trailing midway down her back. With her high cheekbones and brown eyes, she sort of reminded me of that actress from Dr. Quinn. She clutched a yellow and pink striped paper bag, and based on the smell wafting from it I assumed she’d made a stop by Cookies & Corsets before heading our way.

  “And nice to see you, Lucky Penny, but please call me Eve. You’re not a child anymore and you know Mrs. Berns was my first husband’s mother.”

  I laughed. “Fair enough. No one’s called me Lucky Penny in years.”

  Eve’s lips set in a hard line and she pulled me in for a hug. “Well, you’ve stayed away too long then, haven’t you now?”

  “How can we help you, Eve?” Dad asked.

  When she released me, she inclined her head toward my dad and locked her gaze on his, her brown eyes sparkling.