Murder at Redwood Cove (14 page)

“W
hat's your next step?” Suzie asked as we walked out of Noah's

Place.

“Clear the four men who left right after I did.” If that was possible.

“How are you going to do that?”

“Find out where they were when Tommy was attacked.”

“You're really getting into this.”

“I need to take some action. I refuse to wait until something else happens.”

“I can help. I left a few minutes after you did. I saw Jason when I stopped by the hotel's restaurant on my way home. He was preparing desserts for the festival.”

“Good. That's one off the list.”

“I hope the others get cleared, as well.” Suzie's voice held a worried note.

“I do, too.” Boy, did I ever. Two of them were staying at the inn, and Charlie came by on a regular basis. They all had way too much access to Tommy.

We got to the corner. “Thanks for helping. I don't think Noah would've been willing to talk to me the way he did, without you there.”

“Glad to do it.” Suzie placed her hand on my arm. “I hope you find who is at the bottom of this . . . but be careful.”

I was moved by the concern in Suzie's eyes. “I will.”

“I'll pick up the list from Noah this afternoon and drop it at the inn,” Suzie said.

“I appreciate it. We have a lot of arrivals today.” Including one I had mixed feelings about. Scott. When would he arrive?

“Call if you need anything else.” With a wave and a smile, Suzie was off.

Wrapping the dark blue company fleece jacket tightly around me, I picked up my pace. A gray cloud of fog lingered off the coast. Khaki-clad tourists with shopping bags resting at their feet had replaced the early morning locals at the coffeehouse.

I entered the inn and appreciated the warmth of the kitchen after the cold ocean breeze. Phil and Andy sat next to each other in the workroom with several folders in front of them.

“Hi, guys. Festival planning?”

“Yep. We have a meeting in the conference room in”—Andy glanced at his watch—“twenty minutes.”

I put my fanny pack on the counter. How could I find out what Andy and Phil had done last night? I could just ask, but that seemed pretty intrusive. I didn't know them well. They weren't aware I knew they left right after me. Maybe if I assumed they were there, they'd tell me where they'd gone.

“Phil, I really enjoyed your dance last night. Did you do any more?”

“No. We decided it was time for dessert and left shortly after that.” He patted the files. “And we needed to work.”

“Where did you go? Is it a place we could recommend to guests?” I forced casualness into my voice.

“We came back here and felt there was every reason to mix business and pleasure.” He appeared pleased with himself. “Which we did. I supplied a fabulous dessert wine. A ten-year-old tawny port.”

Andy stood, bowed, and gave a grandiose wave of his arm in the direction of the refrigerator. “And I provided Etorki, a pasteurized sheep's milk cheese made in the French Basque region of the Pyrenees. A hint of caramel in its creamy texture, a buttery aroma—a delight for the senses!” He put his fingers together and did an air-kiss to the tips of his fingers—the universal gesture for magnificent.

He headed to the fridge. “There's some left. Would you like to try it?” He was like a child ready to get into a box of candy as he pulled out a plastic-wrapped tray. His eyes widened as he began to uncover the cheese.

“Thanks, Andy,” I said quickly. “I'd love to, but another time. It seems all I've been doing is eating since I got here.”

Andy gazed longingly at the plate. He slowly replaced it on the refrigerator shelf.

Phil laughed. “Andy, there'll be final details to wrap up for tomorrow. We can enjoy your cheese then.”

Andy perked up and closed the refrigerator door.

I hadn't seen them when I got back from Noah's Place. Where had they been working? Again, asking outright seemed pretty nosy. I thought for a few minutes as I grabbed a cup and poured some coffee. The aroma of the strong Italian roast pushed my brain into gear.

“Did you see or hear anything when you returned? We're trying to get as much information as we can because of what happened to Tommy.”

The smile disappeared from Andy's face. “No. My room has a fairly large desk and an alcove. We decided to discuss the festival up there so we wouldn't be interrupted.”

“Thanks. I'll let you get back to work. Please let me know if you remember anything else.” I headed for my room.

Andy and Phil provided alibis for each other. There were two people involved in the attack on Tommy. As much as I liked them, I still couldn't rule them out.

Charlie Chan. How was I going to find out about him? I doubted he was due back here for a while. Driving around town trying to spot him didn't seem like the smartest move. He could be in Fort Paul for all I knew.

What would bring him back here? Needing more water. But there was plenty. A failed water cooler? How could I make that happen? I stopped at the door to my room, turned, and headed back to the kitchen.

Excited chatter came from the conference room as I passed. It sounded like the meeting was underway.

The cooler resided in a corner of the workroom near the computer station. White plastic knobs were recessed into the back of the unit. No easy accidental breakage could occur by something hitting them. I flicked one up and down. I could forcibly break it, but how would I explain that?

I stepped back and surveyed the room. There were a couple of other places the water container would fit. New manager decides to rearrange furniture, cooler gets knocked over. That could work. I wanted to damage it just enough to require a visit.

But wait. I wanted to see Charlie, and he delivered water. They might send someone else for a repair. What I needed was a reason to have more water delivered. The sound of boisterous voices floated down the hall.

The festival! That was the answer.

The number for the water company was posted above the phone. “Hello, this is Kelly Jackson at Redwood Cove Bed-and-Breakfast. There's going to be an event on our grounds tomorrow, and I'd like to have additional water. Would it be possible to have some delivered today? I know it's late to make a request like this.”

“Let me put you on hold while I contact the driver,” said the company rep.

I crossed my fingers and willed the answer to be the one I wanted.

“Good news. Our truck hasn't made the Redwood Cove drops yet, and he has extra bottles on board. How many would you like?”

I grabbed a number. “Three.”

“No problem. They'll be there this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” I hung up. Luck was with me. Now if only Charlie delivered the water.

The phone rang as I started to turn away, and I picked it up. “Redwood Cove Bed-and-Breakfast. Kelly speaking.” I was surprised at how automatic the answer had become.

“Hi, Kelly, how are you doing?”

I knew the voice went with a James Bond look-alike—one of the tall, dark-haired, attractive ones.

“Scott, how nice to hear your voice.” Was it? I wanted to handle the inn on my own, and I didn't want emotional complications in my life.

“I wanted to let you know I'm in Cloverdale. I'll probably be there in about an hour and a half.”

“Oh good.” Sounding enthusiastic was a struggle.

“Kelly, I know this is your first solo job.” He paused. “I remember my first one and how important it was to me. I'm only coming because it's company policy when police have been involved in serious incidents at one of our sites.”

I sighed. “I know. Michael explained that to me when I was hired.”

“I'll stay in the background. I can help out at the festival.” Another pause. “I'll just be there.”

I was touched but not surprised. Kind. Sensitive. Smart. Those attributes went on the Scott list, as well. Mr. Perfect. “Thanks for understanding, Scott.”

“Great, then. See you soon.”

“'Bye.” At least this complication wasn't life-threatening. Or was it, in a different way? It had felt like my life was over when I found out my husband had been cheating on me. I didn't feel ready to risk being hurt again.

What could I do next? I wondered if the game warden had found out anything. Had the Sentinels decoded the last page of notes?

As if on cue, there was a knock at the back door. Its window framed the Professor's face. I waved him in.

“Hi, Professor. What brings you here?”

“We deciphered another page of notes.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I thought you might like a copy before I deliver it to Fran.” He handed the paper to me.

“You must have been reading my mind. I wondered if you'd learned anything more.” I scanned the page. “Is there anything that stands out?”

“Not really. The number of abalone taken increased.” He sat on a nearby stool and placed his plaid wool cap on the counter. “Whoever's poaching is making a lot of money.” He fingered the hat's soft cloth—a blend of subtle red, green, and gray threads. “Hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

“I know you believe Bob was murdered. Do you think this is why?”

“Good possibility. He wanted so much to help, to save our land and resources for future generations and for his grandkids.” Sadness weighed down his voice. His shoulders drooped. “I think Bob got in over his head.”

“Do you have any idea who might have killed him?”

He looked at me. “Yes.”

M
y heart raced. Maybe we could finally put an end to this craziness.

The Professor leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial manner. “It has to be someone with connections in the Bay Area and who travels there a lot.” He sat back and winked at me knowingly.

My soaring hopes crash-landed with a jolt. “I'd been thinking along the same lines, Professor.” I struggled to keep the disappointment off my face.

“The amount of abalone they're taking means it has to be shuttled out of here often.” He pulled another piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. “Here's who I came up with so far.”

I examined the list. My four top suspects were there plus three others. If the stolen BlackBerry was connected, the new people weren't in the running.

I lowered my voice. “I'm checking on Andy, Phil, Jason, and Charlie.”

He patted my hand. “I know it must be hard. They seem to be really nice men, but we have to consider everyone.”

“I agree, Professor.”

“I didn't know you were investigating them. The Silver Sentinels will work on the other three.”

“I don't know if
investigating
is the right word. I've been gathering information.”

“Nonsense, my dear. You're tracking down a murderer.”

Tracking down a murderer. Somehow I hadn't thought of it in those terms before. I was finding out what happened to Bob and Tommy . . . I was tracking down a murderer. I swallowed hard.

“The Silver Sentinels had a meeting yesterday. Maybe you felt your ears burning.” He smiled. “We appreciate the help and support you've given us. You're too young to become a member of the Silver Sentinels, but we've decided to offer you an associate membership.” The Professor tilted his head. “Will you join us, my dear?”

I hesitated. “Professor, I don't know how long I'll be here.”

“That's no problem. Besides, with Internet communication, the world is becoming one large community.”

“I have one caveat. My obligations to Resorts International come first.”

“Of course. This is your career. You have a loyalty to your employer.”

“Then I'd love to join your group, and I'm honored.”

“Superb. I'll let the others know.”

Crunching gravel outside announced the arrival of a vehicle. I glanced out the back window. A green sedan with a F
ISH AND
G
AME
logo on its side rolled to a stop. The door opened, and Fran Cartwright thrust out a sturdy, uniform-clad leg. Her close-cropped silver hair glinted in the sun.

“Ahh, the renderer of justice arrives.” The Professor tapped the list with a long, slender finger. “Why don't you make a copy of this for yourself?”

“Good idea. I'm not familiar with the three other people.”

“Would you please make two copies of the deciphered notes? You can have one, and Fran can have the other.”

“You bet.” I walked over to the copier as the Professor opened the back door for the warden.

“Hey, everyone. How's it going?” Fran stepped into the room.

“Hello, Fran,” the Professor responded. “Thanks for coming.”

“Are you kidding? I got here as fast as I could when I heard you had more information.”

I folded my two pages and tucked them into one of my jeans pockets. I handed the Professor his originals and Fran her copy of the deciphered notes.

Noises from the hallway heralded the end of the festival meeting. Andy and Phil entered the room with Jason close behind.

A stout man passed by saying, “In the morning I'm heading for the double chocolate truffles first thing.” He rubbed his hands together. “They sound so fantastic.”

“Great. We won't be competing,” said his lanky friend. “I want the first taste of the cabernet ice cream with chocolate drizzles.”

They laughed.

“Tomorrow's going to be a treat, as always,” said the heavier man.

Several other people I didn't recognize filed through and out, everyone grinning and commenting on how they were looking forward to tomorrow.

The water delivery van pulled in and parked as members of the group descended the steps. Charlie Chan got out and opened the truck's side door.

Thank goodness. Charlie was making the delivery. But how was I going to question him with all the ruckus around me?

Charlie strode up the steps and walked through the open door, where people were still exiting.

“I'll just take this and go.” Fran held up the paper. “The abalone poachers I arrested are close to cutting a deal. I'm hoping this information will be the final straw.”

“Marvelous news, Warden,” the Professor said. “I'm glad the Silver Sentinels could help.”

“Later, guys.” Fran made her exit.

The Professor turned to me. “Time for me to depart, as well. I'll be in touch.” He started to leave, then stopped. “This may sound like a bit of an odd request, but do you mind if I watch the construction of the tent for tomorrow? I've always been fascinated by how fast they can create a huge, temporary building.”

He struck me as someone with an always-inquiring mind. “Certainly. Stay as long as you like.”

Charlie shifted from side to side and slapped his clipboard against his palm.

Andy walked to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled the cheese platter out. He inclined his head toward the hallway to Jason and Phil. “Let's go to my room and finish our plans there. I've got crackers and Pellegrino to go with this.”

“Pellegrino?” Phil questioned. “But that's water. What kind of a Greek drinks water with fine cheese?”

“You're certainly welcome to provide a beverage of your choice,” Andy replied.

“I'll stop by my room for a bottle of 2006 Nelsen merlot and glasses,” Phil said.

The three headed down the hall, discussions of the chocolate and wine festival drifting in my direction.

Now it was just Charlie and me. Question time. I decided to do what I did with Phil and Andy and assume he'd stayed at Noah's Place.

“Hi, Kelly. I heard you wanted some extra water?” He looked quizzically at the porch where seven bottles were lined up.

“Y . . . yes.” I stuttered a bit. “I . . . I don't know how many people will be at the festival, but I want to be sure to have enough.” Sounded lame to me, but it was the best I could do on short notice.

He shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. Better safe than sorry, as they say.” He walked out to his truck, with me tagging along.

“I enjoyed Phil's dance last night. Did he do more after I left?”

“Don't know. Friend called. Had to leave.” He heaved a bottle onto his hand truck and began bumping it up the stairs.

I followed. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Nope.”

I trailed him back down to the truck, beginning to feel like a stray dog begging for crumbs. “I'm glad to hear that.” Dead in the water. I'd irritated him before with my questions. I gazed off at the ocean as he put the remaining two bottles on the deck, racking my brain for some question I could ask to find out more.

A member of the cavalry saved me. The horse was a white Chevrolet with Deputy Sheriff Stanton at the reins. He pulled in next to Charlie's delivery truck.

The officer shuffled a few papers on the seat of his car and then pushed the door open.

“Charlie, Kelly, good to see you.” He got out. “Charlie, I need to ask you some questions about last night. I called your company, and they told me your route.”

Charlie put his hand truck back in the van. “E-mail and cell phones have been sizzling. It's about what happened to the kid, right?”

The deputy nodded. “Yep. Talking to as many people as possible. With the work you do, you cover a lot of territory.”

“I don't know of anything that might help you, but I'm happy to talk.”

“The office is still available,” I said to the deputy.

Deputy Sheriff Stanton turned to me. “Thanks for the offer. I'll take you up on it.”

“Would either of you like coffee?”

Both responded with an affirmative nod.

We walked back into the kitchen, and I started a fresh pot of coffee. There was some already there, but I wanted an excuse to get into the study during the questioning.

“It won't take long to brew. I'll bring it to you as soon as it's finished.”

“Thanks, Ms. Jackson,” Stanton said.

The two men walked to the office.

I pulled down two mugs and then reviewed the guest list. Only a few people left to go for checking in.

The coffeepot finally uttered its last spluttering noises. I filled the cups, put them on a tray along with cream and sugar, and went down the hallway. I paused a minute at the door to see if I could hear anything. I told myself that eavesdropping was permitted when there was a murder and an attempted murder to solve.

Nothing. The oak door was thick and solid. I knocked.

“Come on in.” Deputy Stanton had moved the chair behind the desk around so he could face Charlie. Stanton was leaning toward him, hands clasped. He glanced up as I came in.

“Could be.” Charlie nodded his head.

I placed the tray on the desk. “Here you go.” I handed them their coffee.

“Thanks. Last night was a long night,” the deputy said.

Charlie nodded. “End of my shift, and I'm dragging. This'll definitely help.”

Both men looked at me expectantly . . . and they weren't talking.

“Can I get you anything else?” I almost felt like curtsying, but I didn't think it would quite work with my jeans.

“No thanks,” Deputy Stanton said.

Charlie affirmed the deputy's response with a negative shake of his head.

They waited patiently. The silence lengthened. It was clear my departure was what they wanted.

“See you then.” I left. No luck there.

I went to my room to pack for the night. It wouldn't take long. I'd only been here two days and I'd been on the go most of the time. I traveled light. Not much time to get ready when the phone call came in from the boss.

I called Esther, head of housekeeping, and told her my plans. She said she'd send someone over to prepare my room for Helen and Tommy.

Suddenly, the quiet afternoon exploded with noise.

“Stop! No move,” someone roared.

Only one person I knew had that kind of volume.

“Miss Kelly! Miss Kelly!” Ivan bellowed.

The sound came from the kitchen. I ran.

Ivan's eyebrows arched so high they blended with his hairline. His face was an ominous red.

Scott sat at the counter, blue eyes shining, an amused smile on his face. His usual uniform of neatly pressed tan slacks, navy blazer, and white shirt fit him well.

“Kelly, it's good to see you.” He slid off the stool and gave me a quick hug. “It's been a while.”

“He boyfriend?” Ivan's face turned from red to purple.

“No!” I almost shouted.

“He hug. He boyfriend.”

Scott raised an eyebrow, and his smile grew wider. I could see he was enjoying this way too much. He looked at me hopefully. “Boyfriend?”

I glared at him.

The commotion drew others to the room. Daniel came in as Ivan declared my relationship to Scott. Allie trailed behind him.

Daniel appeared surprised but held his hand out to Scott. “Daniel Stevens. Glad to meet you.” They shook. “This is my daughter, Allie.” He put his arm around her shoulders.

“Boyfriend! Cool,” Allie declared with an expression only a teenage girl could get when boyfriends were discussed.

Helen, Tommy, and Fred had followed them in.

“Kelly's boyfriend. How nice you could come for a visit,” Helen said.

“Wait!” I tried to stop the stampede of words around me, but it didn't happen.

“I'm Tommy, and this is Fred.” The boy pointed to the tricolored dog bouncing up and down at his side, excited by all the commotion.

“Hold it, folks.” I held up my hands, finally reining in the runaway conversation. “Let's get things straight. This is Scott Thompson. He's an administrator with Resorts International. Not a boyfriend. A work associate.”

I explained the company policy as Ivan's face regained its normal color.

“Sorry. I see walk in back door, no knock,” Ivan rumbled in his best attempt at a quiet voice.

“I apologize for the upset. I've been here numerous times before,” Scott said. “I knew Bob and his wife and always stopped by to chat when I was in the area. I often stayed in the visiting manager's room.”

Ivan shuffled his feet. “I watch for strangers. Protecting boy.”

It hit me, and I felt like I'd been thrown from a horse and landed on packed dirt. “You've been taking shifts. Rudy, Mary, and the Professor.” I'd been slow on this one. The Silver Sentinels had been watching over Tommy.

“We want to help,” the bear-sized member of the Sentinels announced. “Gertie here earlier.”

Helen went over and gave Ivan a hug, or at least the best she could do considering his size. It was more of a front body clasp. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks.