Death of a Hot Chick (27 page)

“
He’s the same. But so
different.”

~
~

Sunday, July 30

I dropped my coins in the slot and
pulled out the next-to-last Sunday
Orbit
from the box in front of the marina. Most
of the front page was filled with kids and headlines like, “TAKE
THAT VACATION BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS.” Several articles started and,
after a couple of paragraphs, were continued inside. Nothing with
Teddy Huertes’ byline. An index listing news items referred the
reader to other inside pages. Definitely wasn’t a big news
day.

Where was Teddy’s article?

A car pulled up beside me. Some kind of
limousine with mirror windows. I tucked the paper under my arm and
retreated two steps before I heard the tiny metallic whir of the
electronic window winding down.

“
Ms. Denlinger?”

A man I could barely see sat behind the car
window

“
Who are you and why do you want to
know?” I asked

“
My name doesn’t matter,” he said with
a smile that definitely didn’t make me happy. “I have a message for
you from Mr. Joline.”

“
Then my name doesn’t matter either.”
I stepped back. I had seen him before, but when? And
where?

He repeated, a lot stronger, “Ms. Denlinger,
I suggest you listen.”

I glanced his way. He wasn’t holding a gun,
at least not that I could see. His elbow jutted out as he rested
his arm on the window frame. “Just exactly why should I listen to
you?” I asked.

“
You are trespassing on private
property. Nicole Joline’s boat belongs to her father. You will be
arrested and charged with a crime.”

They couldn’t do that. He was trying
to scare me. I took a deep breath, then added another for courage.
“Whoever you are, my lawyer has the title, and it is registered in
my name. Mr. Joline has no claim to
Snapdragon
.”

“
And you have the funds to prove that
in court?” he asked with that wicked smile. “Does your lawyer know
which judge he’d be appearing before?”

“
Who are you?” I demanded.

“
Just remember,” he said, then rolled
up his window and zoomed away.

I did the only thing I could think of.
I turned tail and ran—back to
Snapdragon
. And on the way, I saw someone duck
down behind a boat cart. Chester. Had to be.

This day was not starting well. I
returned to
Snapdragon
and
with shaking hands, poured myself a glass of juice. Two of them.
Mr. Joline couldn’t have me arrested, could he? Did I need money to
prove that someone was harassing me? That he’d made threats that
some judge would rule his way? That I needed lots of money to keep
my boat?

I locked my door, and the ports. That
man—I’d seen him before. Where.... Of course, he was Mr. Joline’s
shadow man, Rolf. The same man that Finley said was creepy, the one
that Nicole didn’t like. And, the same one that Kaye said didn’t
kill Nicole, unless it was on orders from Mr. Joline.

That made sense. Was he a new suspect? At
least, a new suspect for Kaye, because he sure threatened me on Mr.
Joline’s orders.

It took me a while to calm down. Finally, I
unfolded the newspaper again. Still nothing on the front page. A
bunch of vacation ideas, like Teddy said. There was a banner across
the top of the front page. “YEAR-ROUND VACATION LIVING - See
Today’s LIVING in Section E,” it said. Was that Teddy’s
article?

I thumbed through and pulled out
Section E, and there it was. A full page of pictures with a subhead
of, “Think You Want To Vacation 24/7? Think Again.” Top right was
the picture of
Podunk
,
Lizzie’s boat. Reba had captured all the everyday mess of living.
The cockpit contained the small table, the two folding chairs, a
pile of boxes, and something drying on the life line.

I scanned the article until I found
it. Teddy had included our names. A note was added at the end “Both
these women were on their boats the night Nicole Joline’s body was
found at Smith Harbor Marina. Although
Podunk
was the closer of the two boats, it was
Ms. Denlinger who found the body and gave the police a full
statement.”

Was that line enough of a lure to bring the
killer to the marina? If he were paranoid, maybe.

I glanced at the rest of the page. At
top left, a family of six crowded around the doorway of a travel
trailer. The bottom half of the page was filled with small pictures
including
Snapdragon
along
with pictures of a tent, a cabana-type building by the water, and a
small cabin in the trees. Did someone live in all those places?
And, what did that have to do with taking the kids on vacation
before school starts?

The article was continued on the next page.
I turned the sheet.

Okay, there was the lure that would trap the
killer.

A map of the marina showed where
Nicole’s body was found, and where
Snapdragon
and
Podunk
were in relation to where I’d found
Nicole. Plain as could be. The killer would look at that and wonder
why I’d found a body, and Lizzie hadn’t.

~
~

I’d finished my lunch of the next-to-last
banana and a handful of Finley’s mints when my cell phone rang. It
was Kaye. “Dad’s on the way. Just giving you a fair warning,” was
all she said before she clicked off.

Why? Why the warning? Kaye was no help at
all. Our mother agreeably smiled her way through life, getting
absolutely everything she wanted. Dad, was considerably more
confrontational. I only had a few minutes to consider what he might
be raving about this morning, and making sure I didn’t add to his
list of complaints.

I brushed my hair, stashed my garbage, but
the boat was a mess, not at all coordinated. The top sparkled, but
dirty streaks ran down the side. Junk in the V-berth which I
couldn’t help. I’d inherited that mess. If Dad learned that Kaye
had alerted me, he’d go off on that. So, I did what any
well-trained survivor would do. I ran a bucket of water, grabbed
all my cleaning supplies, and started scrubbing. It was all work I
needed to do sometime anyway. I knew perfectly well that nothing
I’d even thought of would affect my father in the slightest.

And I was right.

Dad came on board, told me I was his
favorite youngest daughter, and that, although my hair was a little
short, it shone in the sun like a halo.

Then he shattered my suspense.

“
Put the bucket away, sweetie,” he
said. “We’re taking this lovely lady to her new slip. I understand
there’s a problem here, but never fear. This joint is a run-down
mess. You don’t need it.”

“
That’s great. Except, not
today.”

“
Of course, today,” he said, and
grabbed one of the lines. “These yours or the marinas?”

“
Dad, not today. There’s something
going on and I have to be here.”

“
You mean because Pop’s getting out of
jail and coming to repossess your boat? He’ll never find
you.”

“
Dad, drop that line,” I yelled. “I’ll
leave tomorrow, not today. I’m going to use every one of the
pre-paid minutes right here. Besides, I’m....”

“
And that’s the third reason you’re
leaving here. My baby girl is not going to get involved in murder.
Kaye shouldn’t either, but she screamed at me. I can hardly cart
off both of you.”

“
Dad, look at me. I’m screaming. I’m
staying right here. I have plans. Go home.”

“
You’re a pussy cat,” he said and
flipped the line off the cleat.. “I don’t hear any
screaming.”

So I let out a top-of-the-line shriek.

Dad jumped back and dropped the line,
fortunately, not in the water. I yelled, as loud as I could, “Pick
up that line. Give it to me. Go home.” He didn’t move, so I grabbed
the line, looped it back over the cleat, and turned to face him
again. “Dad, what is it with you? Do you like being yelled at? Do
you understand I’m nobody’s baby girl? And I have plans, like I
said.”

Dad shook his head, but he was far from
bewildered. He assumed the face of extreme woe and voiced his usual
complaint. “This younger generation. What is the world coming
to?”

I’d won, for the time being, so I could be
magnanimous. “Thanks anyway, Dad. I assume you’re talking about
Granny’s slips. I do appreciate that you arranged one for me.”
Assuming that he had.

“
Tomorrow? For sure?”

“
Yes. Tomorrow.
Snapdragon
and I will be all yours.

He chuckled. “That’s my girl. Good to see
you getting out, meeting new people.”

“
Ah, yeah.” Except, that wasn’t
exactly my plan. He’d never leave if I told him Kaye and I had a
date with a killer.

Chapter 22

Finley met me at Lizzie’s boat well before
full dark. Teddy came ten minutes later. “I just talked to Doug
Yarnell,” she said. “He’s a block away. Incognito, I’d say. No
police car. No uniform. He’s wearing a T-shirt and a baseball
cap.”

“
Teddy, you left us with the definite
impression that you’d arranged everything with Doug. You
didn’t.”

“
Hey, you guys took care of it—a lot
better than I could. I did try.”

“
I brought turkey wraps,” Finley said.
“Want one?”

Give it up, I decided. Besides, I was
hungry. “Thanks,” I said and took a wrap.

Teddy didn’t. She’d already eaten. She did
tell us that Doug would cruise by the marina every half hour before
she opened her computer and started pecking at the keyboard.

“
Did you see Kaye’s car?” I
asked.

Teddy didn’t look up, but she nodded. “I
couldn’t see her until I walked right up to the window and tapped.
Does she have those mirror windows?”

“
No. She taped tissue paper
inside.”

“
Shades of the grade school
detectives,” Teddy mumbled. I knew exactly what she meant. Kaye had
always been the one to come up with something innovative—but not
always workable.

Finley gathered the cards and said, “Let’s
change games. How about Spit?”

“
Too noisy, and you know
it.”

“
Back to rummy then.” She dealt
cards.

Before I took my cards, I checked the
curtains over the windows. All closed. “You couldn’t see us from
outside, could you Teddy?” I asked. Teddy shook her head. “Could
you hear the radio?” Teddy shook her head again.

“
Come on, play cards,” Finley
said.

“
Sure.” The radio was Kaye’s. We’d
tried the TV earlier and discovered it had lousy reception. I
turned the music up a tad. Cards could be so boring. Especially
when one was waiting for a killer. “Lizzie doesn’t have a single
book or magazine.”

“
Cards, okay?” Finley had never been a
fan of small talk.

I sat and picked up the cards spread in
front of me. “More rummy,” I mumbled as I arranged my hand.

After what seemed like two hours, my cell
phone vibrated. A glance told me it was only thirty minutes.

“
Yes?” I said in a hushed
voice.

“
Officer Yarnell here. I’m parked near
the marina office. Nothing going on. Just checking in. I’ll drive
by again in half an hour.”

“
Is that Doug?” Teddy asked. At my
nod, she grabbed the phone. “Why did you call Cyd?” she asked. “Why
not me?” After a brief interval, she said, “If you say so,” and
returned my phone. “He hung up. He’ll call Finley next
time.”

“
So why did he call Cyd instead of
you?” Finley asked.

“
Something about the press and private
citizens.”

“
Exactly what did he say?” I added,
“Since it’s all clear at the moment you can talk. ”

Teddy ignored the question and returned to
her computer screen. She pushed a few buttons, then began to
type.

Finley said, “I can guess. The police have a
policy against fraternizing with the enemy, which in this case, is
the media.”

“
Could be. Or maybe Teddy and Doug had
an argument?”

“
You mean they have a relationship
above and beyond the usual police to citizen one?”

“
Definitely a possibility,” I
said.

“
One would think I’m amongst
pre-teens, at the very least. There is no relationship.” A moment
later, Teddy added, “He did have an explanation. Police do not talk
to the media during stake-outs. Since he already did, outside in
person, I assume telephone conversations could be
monitored.”

“
Don’t they have to say that, at the
beginning of every conversation?” I asked. “I mean, when I’ve
called some company with questions, I usually hear a recorded voice
saying, ‘This call may be....”

Finley thumped a card on the reject pile.
“Your turn, Cyd.”

Teddy stopped typing momentarily. “Do either
of you know any gossip? This spending the night inside a dark boat
is cutting down on the length of my article.”

“
Like what?” I asked.

“
Anything. Who’s in town. Who’s out of
town. Who’s running from the cops. I’m out of the high school loop
where things happen fast. I used to know stuff like that. Who’s
cheating on whom.... Maybe I used to know all that, but now.... Ah,
excuse me, Cyd. Didn’t mean to say that.”