Deadly Intentions (6 page)

No one knew what to say. The awkward silence stretched on, punctuated by the ticking of the grandmother clock in the hall until Morgan appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Okay, your room is all set up and I think dinner is ready,” she said. “You guys want to eat?”

“Absolutely.” Celeste started toward the door.

“My chowder!” Fiona bolted for the kitchen.

Morgan turned back into the kitchen and Eliza started toward her slowly with Jolene lagging behind at the edge of the room.
 

As she left, Eliza cast one long glance out the window toward the ocean. Jolene concentrated her senses to read the other woman’s aura.

Her aura showed bands of purple to match Eliza’s outfit. Jolene wondered if Eliza had paranormal gifts too. Purple indicated spiritual thoughts—she might have gifts and she might not even know, or maybe she was religious. But there was another color in her aura that set Jolene’s nerves on edge—gray.
 

Jolene felt a prickle of unease in her stomach as she watched her aunt disappear through the door into the kitchen. She had no idea why Eliza had suddenly shown up after all these years, but one thing she did know was that her long lost aunt had a secret.

Chapter Seven

Jolene sat on the edge of her bed, her feet flat on the hard wooden floor, trying to wake herself up. Jake, Luke and Celeste’s boyfriend, and long-time Blackmoore family friend, Cal, had arrived just in time for dinner and had stayed up well into the night filling Eliza in on town gossip.

Luke and Cal were both townies and Eliza remembered their families and even embarrassed Cal by telling a funny story of when he was a young boy. Of course, she didn’t know Jake since he was new in town. Thoughts of Jake reminded Jolene that she’d better get a move-on. She was supposed to go down to Perkins Cove to dig up information about ‘the feud’ and she wanted to get an early start. She hadn’t been very productive on either one of her cases and wanted to put in a full day so she could make some progress before Jake got on her case.

But first … coffee.

She threw on jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers, then swirled her chocolate brown hair into a high pony tail before heading down to the kitchen.

Celeste was already up and at the counter making her wheat grass concoction. Jolene headed straight for the k-cup machine to make herself a cup of strong, dark roast.

“Morning!” Celeste’s perpetually cheerful chirp grated on Jolene. She couldn’t take ‘cheerful’ until she’d had at least half a cup of caffeine.

“Hi.” Jolene settled into one of the stools at the kitchen island.

“Did you sleep well?” Celeste asked.

“Like a baby. You?”

Celeste nodded. “I wonder if Eliza is an early riser.”

Jolene shrugged, preferring to focus on drinking her coffee instead of talking.

“What are you up to today?” Celeste asked after a few minutes of silence.

“This morning I’m heading down to Perkins Cove to ask around about Gordy fooling with Jed’s traps. Then this afternoon I have a lot of computer work to do.”

“I could walk down to the cove with you if you want. I have to drop some lavender oil Morgan made off to my friend, Darlene, at
A Scent of Maine
,” Celeste said, referring to one of the boutique shops in the cove that sold perfumes and oils.
 

Perkins Cove was comprised of a small, horseshoe shaped piece of land that abutted the Blackmoore land. On one side was the cove that housed a variety of fishing, pleasure and sightseeing boats. The land next to it was filled with three rows of old fishermen’s shacks made into quaint boutique stores and restaurants. Back in the day, only fishermen came here, but somewhere along the line someone realized how picturesque the small cove with its wooden, manually-operated drawbridge was and it didn’t take long for it to become a popular tourist destination. Soon, the old shacks had been turned into stores and restaurants.
 

“Okay. Sure.” Truth was, Jolene could use the company. She’d been considering confiding in Celeste about her search for the truth about their mother. She could use someone to bounce ideas off of and she was closest to Celeste. She would be less resistant to the idea of trying to find out what really happened than their older sisters.

Celeste cleaned up the juicer while Jolene waited for the caffeine to hit her brain. After a few minutes, she put her mug in the sink.

“You ready, or do you need to change?”

Celeste looked down at her black yoga pants and white t-shirt. “No. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Stepping off the front porch, they both took a deep breath of salty sea air. ‘I never get tired of that smell,” Celeste said.

“Me, either. I love it first thing in the morning before the restaurants start up and the smell of fried seafood gets into the air.”

The Blackmoore house was set at the very point of land where the channel to the cove kissed the Atlantic Ocean. Although it was on over an acre of land, it was still situated within smelling distance of the cove restaurants. It was only a mere quarter of a mile walk to the heart of the cove, which gave them the best of both worlds—the privacy and ocean view along with the convenience of close shops and restaurants. The only drawback was that sometimes they could smell those restaurants from their front porch, especially when the breeze was blowing to the south.

The walked down the driveway side by side, the gulls crying above them. Jolene was quiet, trying to think up a way to broach the subject of their mother’s death.
 

“So, what’s with this Andrea June you were asking about yesterday?” Celeste asked as if she had read her mind.

Jolene’s hand flew up to the locket around her neck. “I think she might know something about Mom’s death.”

Celeste stopped short. “What do you mean? Mom jumped off the cliff.”

“I know, but don’t you think the investigation was lacking? Overton tied it up pretty quickly and there was hardly any evidence. Besides, I don’t remember Mom being depressed enough to kill herself, do you?” Jolene’s fingers fiddled nervously with the locket. She hoped Celeste would think about what she had to say and not just dismiss her out of hand.

Celeste’s eyes darted to the locket. “Isn’t that the locket that looks just like the one Mom wore?”

“Yes.” Jolene pulled it away from her neck and angled her head to look at it.

“What’s in it?”
 

“Nothing.” Jolene flipped it open to show her. “Why?”

Celeste shrugged. “Oh nothing … Grandma said something to me about the key being in the locket, but sometimes she says things that don’t make much sense.”
 

Jolene pressed her lips together and looked at the locket a few seconds before snapping it shut again. The locket had been empty when she’d found it. She had no idea what this key was or if it had anything to do with her mother’s death. “So, anyway, don’t you think there might be more to Mom’s death than we were told?”

Celeste screwed her face up. “Well, honestly I never really thought about it. I was only a teenager at the time and I guess I just assumed the adults knew better.”

“I was pretty young, too, but I remember some things didn’t add up. Every time I asked a question, though, I was told to shush up. I guess that’s why Overton ended up hating us so much. Maybe my nosy questions got him in trouble with his superiors.”

“Well, they did find her scarf washed up on the rocks and there was a witness that saw her jump,” Celeste offered.

Jolene snorted. “Earl Whiting? You know as well as I do that he’s about as reliable as cable TV in a thunderstorm. Besides, I think he’s hiding something.” Jolene told her about Earl’s expensive purchases and Mae’s warning about finding the truth from Andrea June.

Celeste started walking slowly toward the cove and Jolene followed. “But surely you aren’t suggesting she didn’t jump.”

“No, I’m just saying the circumstance might have been different than what we were led to believe.” Jolene’s fingers fiddled with the locket around her neck. “We owe it to her to find out for sure.”

“Okay. What can I do to help?”

“For starters, don’t tell Morgan or Fiona. They’ll just try to get me to stop and I really feel like I’m on to something. Other than that, it will just be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of.”

“Well, you can count on me,” Celeste said as they reached the main part of the cove.
 

“Oh, there’s Josiah Littlefield.” Jolene nodded toward a wiry white-haired man struggling with a lobster trap on the dock. “I want to ask him about Jeb’s traps.”

Josiah looked up at them as they approached. “Hi, girls. Nice day, ay?”

“It sure is,” Jolene said. “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Ayuh.” Josiah looked back down at lobster trap he was repairing, the sinewy muscles on his lean arms rippling under his leathery, tanned skin.
 

Not bad for an old guy
, Jolene thought as she tried to figure out the best way to phrase the question.

“Have you heard anything about an issue between Gordy Ellis and Jebediah Powers?”

Josiah chuckled. “When hasn’t there been an issue between those two? Those boys been goin’ at it since grade school.”

“I remember some of those fights,” Celeste said.

“Thing is, their daddies started the feud and the boys are just carryin’ it on,” Josiah said.

“Jeb seems to think Gordy might have messed with his traps—says some of them are missing.”

Josiah stopped what he was doing and looked at Jolene, squinting into the sun that was behind her. “Is that so? Well, I don’t rightly know ‘bout that, but I don’ think Gordy would do that. Boy knows better than to mess with another fisherman’s traps, no matter how much of a feud they got goin’ on.”

Jolene nodded. She felt the same way. The traps were a fisherman’s livelihood and it was a low blow to mess with them.
 

“Got any idea who might have messed with them and why?” Jolene asked. Someone
had
messed with them—maybe it wasn’t Gordy, though.
 

Josiah shook his head. “Sorry, don’t know nuttin’ ‘bout that.”

“Okay, thanks.” Jolene turned to go, took a step, then turned back. “Hey, Josiah, you don’t know where I could find Andrea June, do you?”

To her surprise, Josiah nodded.
 

“Ayuh. I reckon she be right over there.” He pointed to a stack of boats moored at the edge of the cove.

Jolene’s heart soared with hope. “She has a boat?”

“Nope,” Josiah said.

Jolene scrunched up her face at him. “But you pointed at the boats.”

Celeste cut in before Josiah could answer. “Not
has
a boat …
is
a boat.”

Jolene squinted in the direction Celeste was looking. Four boats were moored right next to each other. The furthest was a dilapidated old lobster boat that looked like it might sink on the spot. As the boats moved in the shallow waves, that boat edged forward far enough for Jolene to read the name on the front.
 

Andrea June
.
 

Chapter Eight

Celeste was starting to regret making the trip to the cove with Jolene.
 

Too late now
, she thought as she sat crammed into the dinghy Jolene had commandeered from an old high school friend she’d run into on the dock.
 

A sense of foreboding came over her as the
Andrea June
loomed closer and closer. White paint chips dotted her side, giving away the original color of the now dull-gray boat. Clusters of barnacles stuck out from the boat at the water line. It had been a long time since anyone had cared for the
Andrea June
. Josiah had said he hadn’t seen the boat leave the cove in years, but someone had to be paying the mooring bill, otherwise it wouldn’t still be here.
 

Jolene pulled the dinghy alongside the boat and tied it off to the mooring where the rope from the
Andrea June
was hanging on by a thread. Judging by the degree of disintegration of the rope, it wouldn’t be long before the
Andrea June
broke free and floated out to sea.

“Come on, let’s get onboard.” Jolene laid the oars on the floor of the dinghy and grabbed the ladder on the side of the boat. Celeste secured the small bottle of lavender oil in her pocket and followed suit, glancing at the dilapidated deck boards dubiously.
 

“Is that thing going to hold us?” Celeste had visions of plunging through the deck into the waters of the cove below. At least it was warm out and the cove water wasn’t that deep.

But the deck held Jolene, so Celeste scrambled onboard behind her.
 

“Are you sure Mae said you could find the truth here? Maybe there is actually a real person named Andrea June … fishermen name their boats after real people most of the time. Maybe we should be looking for the real Andrea June to find out the truth?”

Jolene shrugged. “Maybe, but I searched all the databases and couldn’t find her.”

“Now what?” Celeste looked around the small deck. There was nothing really to see—an old moth-eaten life jacket. Half an oar. The old motor hanging off the back was more rust than anything and probably hadn’t worked in years.

Jolene pointed toward a small cabin below the deck. “Maybe there will be a clue down there.”

Celeste’s stomach clenched as she looked into the dark cabin. “Maybe. You go first.”

She crowded into the small space behind her sister, propping the cabin door open with a brick that she’d found lying beside it. The cabin consisted of a counter, the remnants of a ratty old mattress and a bucket. Celeste didn’t want to speculate as to what the bucket was used for. The dust was an inch thick. No one had been on this boat in years.

Jolene bent over the counter, shuffling through a pile of papers. Celeste planted her feet, steadying herself against the rocking motion of the boat and willing her ears to ignore the alarming creaks and groans.
 

“Look at this,” Jolene said. “These papers are dated the year Mom died.”