Double Chocolate Cookie Murder Page 8

  Sherry followed the beam of light to the glistening water, which was at least an inch deep.

  Sherry’s breath caught in her throat. “The storm coming in?”

  “No. This water wasn’t here when we left the marina.”

  She took a step closer to Marla. The warm glow of the pinot grigio disappeared and was replaced by turmoil in the pit of her stomach.

  Sherry followed the flashlight’s beam. “How worried should we be?”

  “With just a flashlight, it’s very hard to diagnose what’s causing a leak, if that’s what it is, let alone without lifting the boat out of the water. I’m fairly certain, if it is a leak, it’s above the waterline, judging by the length of time the water took to flood the deck floor. So, if we travel back to the marina at slow speed, we shouldn’t take on too much more water until we’re docked. Fingers crossed the weather holds. We don’t need a deluge from above on top of a leak from below.”

  After Don uttered the words “leak” and “flood,” all Sherry heard of his explanation was “blah, blah, blah, blah.” She tightened the strap on her life jacket.

  “So, we’re going to be safe?” Marla asked.

  “Wet shoes will be the only casualties,” Don said in a solemn, eerily calm voice. “Let’s get a move on.”

  The return trip wore on Sherry’s nerves to the point where every bump against a wave prompted a check of the vessel from stern to stern for enlarging cracks or deepening of deck water. When she wasn’t looking at the deck, she was checking conditions overhead. She was beginning to relax when Don slowed the motor to a crawl. She raised her sights to the horizon. There were only dots of lights in the distance, a destination Sherry was sure they’d never reach.

  “Why are we slowing down?” Sherry asked with as much positivity as she could muster.

  When Don turned to face her, she saw the distress on his face.

  “Take a look.” Don inclined his head toward the sloshing water at their feet. “I don’t feel safe anymore. I’m going to radio the Coast Guard for a rescue.” He got on the radio and called for help. He stalled the motor. “Please stay seated so the boat is as steady as possible.”

  Sherry and Marla made light conversation as they drifted with the tide. For a few moments, Sherry did her best imitation of a coherent human, before she decided she needed to gather her racing thoughts with a moment of silence.

  “Don, Sherry tells me you’re a financial consultant on Long Island?” Marla’s right-turn question lingered in the cold air while Don checked the boat’s instruments.

  He puffed out his cheeks. “That’s right. I’ll have to move closer to Augustin if Sherry and I want to see each other more often, though. Can’t commute by boat all winter. After tonight, she may not want to see me ever again.”

  Sherry’s mouth dropped open at Don’s answer.

  “Here’s our ride,” Don announced as a brilliantly lit boat motored toward them. “They’ll tow us back to the marina, so if you two want to ride with the big dogs, that’s the driest option.”

  The Coast Guard response boat pulled up alongside Don’s boat. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes, sir. We’re taking on more water than I’m comfortable with and hoped to get a tow or escort back to the Augustin Marina to be on the safe side. These ladies don’t want to experience a full-on water rescue on their first trip out with me.”

  Sherry and Marla were helped aboard the Coast Guard vessel, while tow lines were secured to Don’s boat. The Coast Guard officer radioed Vitis that the two boats would be arriving at the dock within the half hour. Sherry’s mind randomly wandered to Rachel and how, if she were to catch wind of the mishap, she would add Sherry to her deal-breaker list of those not loving the open water.

  When the boats reached the dock, Sherry and Marla debarked and made their way to the shed to return the life jackets. Sherry kissed hers goodbye as she tossed it in the storage bin to join the pile of others. They remained in the warmth of Vitis’s tiny enclosure while Don finished his business with the Coast Guard crew. When he finally appeared, his face broadcast bad news.

  “The boat needs a full inspection and will be taken to dry dock early in the morning.”

  “How will you get home?” As Sherry asked, she realized there were other possibilities she wasn’t prepared to offer, such as an overnight stay at her house.

  “Already got that covered. I have some friends in Hillsboro, and I texted them. They’re on their way.” Don shook out his foot. Water sprayed from his shoe.

  “I’m sorry about your boat. At least you’re not high and dry. You bought a boat from Crosby Banks, didn’t you?” Marla asked. “Is the deal still on? Because he’s, well, you know?”

  “Coincidentally, I spoke to his lawyer this afternoon. The guy’s already sorting out Crosby’s possessions, but, yes, thankfully, the deal’s still on. Already begun working out the transfer of ownership agreements. Boat’s a beauty. If all goes well, I hope to get it in the water within the next week or so. When I heard about what happened to him, I considered canceling the deal, but reconsidered with the thought the boat still needs a good home.”

  “Wonder why he had a boat when his ex-wife said how much he disliked being out on the water?” Sherry questioned. “Glad you two got on so well at dinner. You don’t have any clue as to who might have killed him, do you?”

  Don folded his arms across his chest. “You go right to the point, don’t you?” He winked at Sherry.

  “Never know. Worth a try.”

  “He was a nice guy. We talked about finance, Long Island, and boats, obviously. Nothing about the guy stands out, except possibly a reference to animosity toward his ex, Rachel, and his father. In conversation, we glanced over his family, and mention of those two made his face pinch up like an old prune. Seeing her tonight, I can put a face to a name. Here’s hoping she’s not the guilty party.”

  “I second that.” Sherry shivered and hugged her arms across her midsection.

  The fact that Crosby and his father had a troubled relationship was news to Sherry.

  “You two should get home and dry off so you don’t catch cold. I saw that shiver. Hope you both had a good time tonight, despite the unscheduled excitement.”

  “We did. Thank you for the experience and the successful outcome to the adventure.”

  Marla backed away from Sherry. “I’ll wait at the car.”

  Don hugged Sherry and gave her a kiss. As he released his embrace, she went back in for a lingering kiss. His resulting smile said he was thankful she had.

  Don plunged his hand in his coat pocket. “Oh, and one of you dropped a glove on the boat. It’s soaked, unfortunately. Hope the leather palm isn’t ruined.” He pulled out the damp glove.

  “Not mine. Must be Marla’s. I’ll check with her.” Sherry pinched one finger of the glove and let it dangle from her hand. “See you soon, I hope.”

  Chapter 9

  Sherry was sorry the Thanksgiving weekend was over—for about three seconds. While the cooking and eating aspect of Thanksgiving was right up her alley, putting aside her normal routine threw her off-balance. Monday morning steamrolled in and she was excited to get back to work at the Ruggery and her editing job for Augustin’s town newsletter, which had been on hiatus for the last week. Marla wasn’t thrilled about the early wake-up call, but Sherry awoke with energy to spare, and her noisy tinkering throughout the house made for less than ideal sleeping conditions. It wasn’t long before Sherry suggested they go in to the Ruggery early.

  A mug of coffee later, Sherry and Marla and the two Jack Russells were on their way to the store.

  “I’m running to the doughnut store.” Marla shut the passenger-side car door. “Any requests?”

  “My request is no doughnuts.” Sherry tossed a wave to her sister.

  It wasn’t long after she opened the store that the Ruggery’s antique front door brushed against the bell, setting off a tinkle. Sherry emerged from the storage room to greet whoever had jus
t walked in the store. Chutney and Bean trailed closely behind.

  “It’s me. I have returned,” Amber said.

  “Amber, I missed you so much. How was your Thanksgiving?”

  “Hi, everyone. I missed you all, too. I had a very nice visit with my family.”

  Bean snuggled up against Amber’s leg for a reunion with his owner. A moment later, he was off to play with Chutney elsewhere.

  “Did I get the message wrong?” Amber asked. “Thought I was opening the store today. I’m surprised you’re here so early.”

  It entered Sherry’s mind that since Amber began working at the Ruggery, her friend had yet to take a sick day, show up late, or misread her schedule, so for her to ask about the possibility she’d misinterpreted the schedule was a rhetorical question. Sherry associated Amber’s promptness and reliability with her training as a family therapist and marriage counselor in part, and in part because of the love she had for working at Erno Oliveri’s store. When the two met at a cook-off, Sherry had no idea their fast friendship would blossom into a business partnership of sorts. The sight of Amber never ceased to remind Sherry of the wonderful people cooking competitions brought into her life.

  “You got it right, as usual. I made a last-minute decision to come in early to make sure there were no Black Friday remains. Dad’s just not a fan, and I don’t want him to be reminded the store held a sale. He’ll be in after lunch, so let me know if you see something I missed. A sign, a sale tag in the waste bin, whatever.”

  “You can count on me. If I’ve learned one thing about your father, it’s that he’s a proud artisan. I’ll do everything in my power to support him.” Amber hung her coat on the rack by the store entrance. “Thank you so much for taking Bean over the weekend.” Amber glanced at the dogs milling about the front door. “The pups find your shoes very appealing. Have you been somewhere new?”

  Sherry glanced at the waterproof slip-ons she’d parked below the coat rack. Chutney and Bean were taking turns nosing around the rubber-soled shoes. “If you call the Long Island Sound new, then yes, I have. I was planning on not getting wet on a boat ride with Don and Marla, but you know what they say about the best-laid plans. I had those soaked shoes in the car, and they need to dry inside. By the end of the day, if the smell lingers, I’ll have to go to plan B and disinfect them.”

  “Apparently, there’s a juicy story to be told while we prepare for customers. Do tell.”

  “Good morning, people.” Marla entered the store. “I brought doughnuts.” She trotted over to Amber and gave her a bear hug. “So good to see you.”

  “I said, ‘no doughnuts,’ ” Sherry scolded. “I ate way too much over the weekend.”

  Marla patted her stomach. “More for me. Amber, care to join me?”

  “Don’t ever change, Marla.” Amber laughed. “By the way, I thought Sherry said you’d be back home in Oklahoma by the time I returned. I was sad I was going to miss you. Lucky me, you changed your plans.”

  Sherry attempted to intercept Amber’s gaze, but she was unsuccessful. “Marla misses me and Dad too much.”

  “Nice try, Sher. You can’t fool a therapist.” Marla put her arm around Amber’s shoulder. “I’ll come clean. Truth is, Grant and I are on a downturn and we need a break. Not sure if it’s life on a ranch, my restlessness, or just an early midlife crisis, but we need some space from each other.”

  “I won’t pester you, but if you want to talk about anything marriage- and family-related, my office hours are wide open,” Amber replied. “Even though I’ve retired my therapy practice in favor of retail, I have lots of past experience in almost any relationship dilemma to draw from.”

  “Or you could anonymously write to her online advice column. Not that I’ve ever done that,” Sherry quickly added.

  “Please do,” Amber said. “In the meantime, a doughnut may be just what the doctor ordered. Can we get back to the story behind your smelly shoes? I’m intrigued Don was able to convince you to go out on his boat in the first place. I don’t think it’s your favorite activity, especially now it’s almost December. Brrr.”

  Sherry related the story of last night’s adventure on the water. As it progressed, Amber’s brow knit tighter and tighter. Before she was able to conclude the story, Sherry’s phone rang.

  “Hi, Ray.”

  “Ray? As in Detective Ray Bease?” Amber asked. “Why am I getting the feeling you haven’t gotten to the crucial details of last night’s adventure?”

  Sherry nodded, yes.

  “How long were you going to take before you notified me of your boat mishap?” Ray complained. “My department was contacted by the Augustin Marina dockmaster and the Coast Guard regarding suspicious damage to a boat you were listed as a passenger on. Do you realize the police and EMTs were put on notice in case there were injuries on your boat? Don’t even try to convince me the incident was no big deal.”

  Sherry’s cheeks warmed. “Suspicious damage?”

  “If the boat was deliberately tampered with and you’re looking into Crosby Currier’s death, what does that suggest to you?”

  Sherry glanced at the floor and back up again as she considered her response. “I possibly have struck a nerve with someone involved in the murder. On the other hand, there’s also the possibility my friend Don’s boat just needed some maintenance he wasn’t aware of.”

  “That maintenance would include repairing the precise knife cut of a hose attached to a pump that caused a slow leak, perfectly timed to fill the deck with water after the boat was well away from the dock.”

  “Ugh. So, the first possibility is more likely? Wonder if the hose was cut on Long Island, before Don set off, or in Augustin?”

  “Keep me in the loop from now on. Your life might depend on it.” Ray hung up.

  “Your frown tells me Ray had bad news,” Amber said.

  “Ray is seldom the bearer of good news,” Marla said before Sherry could reply.

  “He wasn’t happy. Don’s boat was sabotaged, in all likelihood.”

  “Does Don have enemies? I hope Ray wasn’t suggesting someone knew you were going to be on that boat and . . .” Amber said. “I can’t even say the words.”

  Sherry had no time to answer before Amber answered her own question. “It is you, Sherry. Are you the one someone was attempting to warn away? What is going on?”

  “I may have struck something having to do with Crosby’s murder. Although, I’m not exactly sure what that something is.”

  Amber groaned. “Murder? Who is Crosby? Can we start at the beginning? Please tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with the cookie bake-off you judged on Saturday.” When no one responded, Amber clutched her head in her hands.

  “I’ll set out the new shipment of winter colors while you fill Amber in on Crosby, his ex, and the missing prizes. And don’t forget home ec and Augustin High.” Marla carried her box of doughnuts toward the kitchenette. “I’ll be in the storage closet, organizing. After I eat a few doughnuts.”

  Sherry caught Amber up on what had happened between the day after Thanksgiving through the previous night.

  “I go away for five days and this is what I come back to?” Amber said. “This is a fine mess you gals have gotten yourselves in to.”

  “You ladies gonna talk all morning?” Marla called out from the stockroom. “I could use some help.”

  “Marla’s only been here for a few days and is already bossing us around.” Sherry headed to the back of the store.

  The early morning was slow in terms of sales. Sherry assumed patrons had overdone their shopping, motivated by sales, and were giving their wallets a rest. A few browsers came by to inquire about any sale item leftovers and left disappointed, though with the promise to return very soon. After one silver-haired couple spent nearly an hour scanning the lookbooks for an idea for their grandchild’s bedroom before finally settling on a sea life and mermaid rug, Sherry was hit with a thought. She logged the thought away until after the couple completed th
eir order. When they left the store, Sherry pulled the customer Rolodex from beneath the sales counter. She spun the card wheel until she reached the Bs.

  “What are you searching for? The couple that just left, the Kennans, have never been in before. I checked. They don’t have a profile card yet,” Amber said. “I’m about to pull a blank card for them.”

  “I’m searching the Bs and the Cs for Banks and Currier.” Sherry twirled the knob of the filing device her father had maintained for decades. Every single sale was transcribed on an alphabetized card, with preferences, inquiries, and any other pertinent information Erno felt applicable to his customers. Whenever she used the Rolodex, Sherry was reminded of all the times she’d urged her father to go digital and he’d resisted. Now, she couldn’t imagine the Ruggery without the charm of the antiquated Rolodex system. While no Banks had placed an order, she found a completed sale to Alonzo and Ivy Currier. The card described a rug portraying a boat on the ocean with clouds and blue sky. The rug was entitled Perfect Honeymoon. She wondered if that was a reference to the name of the boat or to the subject of the rug itself.

  “Here’s something I’ve never seen before.” Sherry removed the card and held it up.

  “What’s that?” Amber asked.

  “The back of the card has a note about an inquiry into replacing the rug. Says ‘damaged beyond repair.’ I don’t see any further purchases, though. As if the inquiry never proceeded to any further action.”

  “Is that important?” Amber found an empty card in the drawer under the sales desk. She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll start a customer card for the Kennans and let Erno fill in the details when he gets here later.”

  “I don’t know if it’s important or not whether the couple were customers here.” Sherry glanced at the Rolodex. “That’s not true. It’s very important.” Sherry pushed the Rolodex toward Amber. “Thank goodness for Dad’s system.”

  The volume of shoppers was low throughout the morning. Given the extra time, Sherry decided to change the display rack from an autumnal motif to a winter one. The area rugs, sized from small ovals to five-foot, scenic rectangles depicting autumn scenes, were transferred to labeled bins. Winter-themed rugs took their place on the wooden display rack. When the swap-out was complete, Sherry stepped back to absorb the store’s transformation into a winter wonderland. While she reveled in her handiwork, the front door opened. A quick glance back toward the door developed into a double take.