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Authors: Sibel Hodge,Elizabeth Ashby

Killer Colada: a Danger Cove Cocktail Mystery (9 page)

BOOK: Killer Colada: a Danger Cove Cocktail Mystery
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"This represents the likely outcome for you. Your intuition is coming into play now. You need to carefully listen to and trust it. If you do this, you'll make the right decisions. You need to be flexible, but you can expect a promising outcome."

 

*   *   *

 

I hurried back to the tavern on my bike, not really any the wiser. The tarot cards seemed a bit conflicting to me. My intuition told me Carmen was bad news. But how could I compete with her?

I hoped the ride wouldn't make the new bouncy, vibrant locks Cassidi had given me look like I'd been left in a wind tunnel. Running my hand through it after I stashed my bike, I headed inside and grabbed Ruby and Vernon, pulling them into my office.

"You'll never guess what," I said.

"You've had your hair done?" Vernon said. "Looks great, by the way."

"It looks amazing!" Ruby agreed.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. My hair now cascaded past my shoulders in glossy, layered waves with subtle hints of color reflecting the light. And now that I was armed with my tiger's-eye bracelet, there was no way Carmen would turn Harvey against me. Right?

I turned back to them. "No, it's not the hair, but thanks anyway. It's about Ian. Didn't he say he hadn't been in Danger Cove for years?"

"Yes," Ruby said. "Why?"

"Well, it seems that his car was involved in a minor traffic accident outside the Clip and Sip the day before Pandora was killed. That's only two streets away from Pandora's house."

A twinkle sparkled in Vernon's eye. "Interesting."

"It is strange," Ruby said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't mean he actually saw Pandora. Maybe he came into town for another reason. To see a patient or something."

"But why did he lie about it?" Which got me thinking about the open rear door in Pandora's kitchen again. What if Tim was telling the truth and Pandora was really alive when he left? In the five minutes we waited to go inside her house, Ian could've slipped in the back door, killed her, and slipped out again. And, as a doctor, he had easy access to the pentobarbital. "Ian is Pandora's sole heir, after all."

"I don't know," Ruby said. "Ian seemed like a lovely guy who's been through a lot."

"Yeah, but money does strange things to people," Vernon said.

"He could've been in town seeing a friend," Ruby suggested.

"Then why lie about it?" Vernon repeated.

"And I got hold of Melanie Crook too. She was Jenna's best friend at the time she went missing, and she told me that she thought Jenna was Pandora's favorite and Ian always felt left out, even before Jenna disappeared. Maybe Ian killed Jenna because he was jealous of her. Then maybe he killed Pandora to get her inheritance, and framed Tim."

"Or to shut Pandora up because she'd found out the truth about Ian killing Jenna," Vernon added.

"But Ian wanted us to pack up everything from Pandora's house to give to the thrift shop. If he was out to kill his mom for money, he showed no interest in her belongings," Ruby said.

"Judging by the old and outdated items in the house, we didn't see anything valuable in there," I said. "And he did mention he'd gone back there again on his own, so maybe he took whatever items were worth something then."

"We need to find out if Ian's got an alibi for the time of Pandora's murder," Vernon said.

"How can we do that without directly asking him?" I asked. "We don't want to let him know we think he could be a suspect."

Vernon rubbed his jaw, pondering that for a moment. "We can start by calling his office to see if he was working that day, then take it from there."

"I'll do it."

"Lester Marshall gave me Ian's work, home, and cell numbers," Ruby said. "I wrote them down on the pad." She pointed to the notepad on my desk.

Ruby and Vernon went out front to serve while I punched in the number. A recorded message played in my ear. "Thank you for calling the Seattle Cardio Clinic. Our offices are closed for our annual Labor Day holiday between Monday, September 7th, and Thursday, September 10th. If you have an emergency, please call the Beckwith Health Surgery on this number—"

I hung up before she could finish. Of course! The Labor Day holiday had been on Monday, which was why we'd been so busy. Since the tavern was always open on holidays, the days kind of rolled into one for me. The owners of the clinic had obviously decided to give the staff a few extra days off afterward, which meant he hadn't been working on the day he hit the stop sign, the day after the official public holiday. And he hadn't been working the next day, either, when she was murdered, according to the dates on the message. But that didn't mean he didn't have an alibi.

I pulled Vernon aside to let him know. He disappeared into my office to do some more digging and see what else he could find out.

Bree Milford, manager of the Ocean View Bed and Breakfast, where Harvey and Carmen were staying, wandered in then with her best friend, Cristal.

"Hi, Hope," Bree said while Cristal popped her hand up in a cheerleader sort of acknowledgement. "Can I take a menu, and we'll sit outside for an early dinner?"

"Sure." I handed one to each of them and told them the specials. "How's business?"

"It's been crazy busy, what with Labor Day and all. I hardly get out these days since I took over the B&B. It's a big change from LA, but still, it's good. I enjoy it."

"Well, life's too short. You gotta enjoy what you do and have fun," I said.

"Cheers to that," Cristal said.

I took their drink orders, and they sat outside while I made them both the specialty cocktail of the house, a Smugglers' Pink Parrot. When I got outside to their table, Bree was watching Carmen emerging from the privacy tent.

"How's Harvey getting on with his work?" Bree asked me, not taking her eyes off Carmen. It felt like a loaded question, as if she wanted to tell me something.

"Yeah, good. Busy, though. Aren't we all?" I laughed.

Cristal spun toward me. "I know I shouldn't talk about the guests, but I'll be glad when she's gone." She nodded toward Carmen. "She woke several of the other guests up at about three this morning, banging on Harvey's door."

"Three a.m.?" I asked. What was she doing trying to get hold of Harvey at that time in the morning?

"I mentioned something to her at breakfast, and she didn't like it," Cristal said. "She was so rude and condescending, speaking to me like I was an idiot. But we can't let her disturb everyone else, right?"

"That's right," Bree said. "Cristal told me about it this morning. I didn't hear a thing from my apartment over the garage."

A nauseous feeling swirled inside as I looked back and forth between them. "So what um…happened? I mean…did Harvey let her in at that time?"

Cristal's mouth turned down at the edges with sympathy. "I don't know. She was banging for about five minutes, and it woke me up too. I was just about to get up and investigate, when I heard some hushed voices, and it stopped, so I don't know what happened afterward."

I forced a smile, while my insides were in turmoil, as I pulled my order pad from my apron. Were those tarot cards literal meanings? Was I
The Fool
, thinking Harvey and I were meant to be together, when we really weren't suited? Was he still in love with Carmen? I shook the thoughts away, summoning up my inner lion like Bernie had mentioned.
Do not let your old anxieties bloom. You are worthy. And Harvey is
not
interested in Carmen. They're just colleagues. I am the lion! Be the lion!
I did an inner roar, picturing a lion's face, and said, "So what can I get you?"

Hours later though, I was still wondering what could've been so urgent that Carmen wanted to talk to Harvey in his bedroom at ridiculous-o-clock in the morning. I very much doubted it was to do with work, unless she wanted to check his tool kit was in good working order!

And did Harvey let her in?

No, of course he didn't. Harvey's not like that. He wouldn't cheat on you. He's a nice guy.

Yeah, but how well do you really know him? You thought you knew Nick, and he cheated.

I was twirling a lock of hair around my finger, lost in thought, when Vernon tapped me on the shoulder.

I jumped.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said.

"You've been miles away all evening," Ruby said. "What's up?"

I waved my hand. "Oh, nothing. Just…no, it doesn't matter. What's meant to be is meant to be, right?"

Ruby looked at me quizzically, but before she could say anything else, Vernon spoke.

"I've found out something interesting. It turns out Ian was given a speeding ticket by Officer Faria on the road leading out to Seattle at 4:10 p.m. on the day Pandora was killed."

"Wow! First the stop sign, then a speeding ticket. He's a really bad driver," Ruby said. "Remind me never to get on a road when he's around."

"But that can't be a coincidence, can it? Ten minutes after we found Pandora dead, he was being stopped not far from her house." For once I was glad about Richie Faria's overzealous pursuit of traffic violations.

"No way." Vernon shook his head. "We need to take a closer look at Ian's finances. Maybe he was after Pandora's money, and her will gives him a motive. There was a five-minute window of opportunity before you went inside the house, when he could've killed her. And what better way to do it than frame Tim Baxtor, who's the perfect suspect?"

"Yes, but that would mean Ian had to have known Tim was going to the house at that exact time," Ruby said.

"Not if Ian was the one who really made that phone call to Tim," I said. "Tim hadn't spoken to Pandora for years, so maybe he couldn't remember exactly what she sounded like. He could've distorted his voice somehow."

"It's not impossible," Vernon said. "You can buy software that changes your voice. Ian could've made that call, then sat ready and waiting for Tim to leave and then kill Pandora for the inheritance."

Ruby tapped her fingernails on the bar, thinking. "I don't know. I still think Tim's the most likely suspect, but I admit that the theft of the pentobarbital from the vet is an unlikely coincidence."

"Does Lester Marshall know about Ian being in the area?" I asked Vernon.

"I doubt it. He's convinced Tim's the killer. Knowing Marshall, he won't be doing any extra work to check out other possibilities."

"I should go and tell him."

"Yeah. Good luck with that." Vernon grunted. "Anyway, I'll carry on looking into Ian's background. See what I can find."

"Can you look after things here?" I asked Ruby.

"Of course."

I grabbed my bag and walked around the side of the building to get my bike. Carmen wasn't anywhere in sight near the entrance to the caves, although her equipment was laid out on the ground next to it. With any luck she'd fallen in and broken her leg.

Uh-oh. Now I was having seriously nasty thoughts. What was wrong with me? I believed that we were what we thought. What we put out there, we got back. The good and the bad. I sent a silent message to the Universe to retrieve it before it sent a humongous karma bus to slam into me in return.

I was just grabbing my bike, when I noticed an envelope on the doorstep at the outer door to my apartment. It was white, weighted down by a rock to stop it flying away in the breeze. I smiled as I removed the rock and picked it up. Maybe it was a note from Harvey, although looking at the writing, which said
HOPE
in big blocky capitals, I didn't think so.

I ripped it open, read it, and a little gasp slipped out. There were only two sentences, but they packed a mean punch:

 

STAY AWAY. I'M WATCHING YOU!

 

My throat dried up as I glanced around, wondering if whoever wrote it was actually watching me now, but there was no one in the vicinity. I cycled down Craggy Hill to the police station, heart thumping, although that had less to do with the exercise and more to do with the threatening note. I skidded to a stop outside and leaned my bike against the front steps, rushing inside. Officer Richie Faria was manning the front desk, his uniform so starched it looked as if it could probably stand up on its own.

"I need to see Lester Marshall urgently," I burst out.

"Let me see if
Detective
Marshall is available. He's very busy at the moment." He disappeared down the corridor and rushed back a few minutes later. "Follow me." He led me to the detectives' office. Lester was sitting at the only occupied desk, feet up on it as he fiddled with his cell phone and shoved pizza into his mouth.

Busy, huh?

"Well, I've got speeding tickets to write up, but if you need me for anything, I can hang around." Richie looked eagerly at Lester.

Lester chewed vigorously and waved his hand in a
leave it to me
gesture.

Richie's face fell, and he stomped back to the front desk.

I sat down in front of Lester, waiting for him to finish chewing. He put his cell phone on top of his briefcase on the desk, took a swig of coffee from a full mug, then sat back in his chair, hands on the arms. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Although his tone was pretty clear that it wasn't a pleasure. The feeling was mutual.

BOOK: Killer Colada: a Danger Cove Cocktail Mystery
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