Murder Hooks a Mermaid (10 page)

He put the car back in gear and pulled away from the curb before I could argue. Not that I really wanted to.

We arrived first, which wasn’t surprising. I could imagine how long it would take Riley and Karen to break free from the family gathering.

I just hoped they wouldn’t be too much longer. Megan’s story was like found money burning a hole in my pocket, and I could hardly wait to see what it was worth.

Chapter 11

JAKE AND I GOT A BOOTH. HE ORDERED COFFEE, FOR
which he seemed to have an infinite capacity, and I ordered an herbal tea.

“Another cup of coffee,” I told him, “and I won’t sleep until Tuesday.” It was an exaggeration, but the mix of alcohol, coffee, and adrenaline already in my system was enough to keep me wired for quite a while. No need to add anything more.

A few minutes later, Karen and Riley arrived. I spotted them as they pulled in, but I was surprised to see Riley climb out from behind the wheel of Karen’s SUV.

If she let him drive her prized vehicle, this was getting
serious
. And, as they crossed the parking lot to the front door, their body language reinforced my suspicions. If they weren’t a couple again, they would be soon.

And disaster would follow.

When they entered the restaurant they made sure to keep a little distance between them, like they were trying to pretend they weren’t together.

Karen spotted us and raised an eyebrow. I shot a glance at Riley and back at her, a warning that whatever questions she might have for me, I would have a few of my own in return.

Sometime in the next few days we were going to have a very interesting conversation. But it would likely have to wait until Bobby was free again.

Karen slipped into the booth across from me, and Riley slid in next to her, careful not to sit too close. She looked back and forth from me to Jake, waiting for one of us to say something.

The waitress arrived in the middle of our awkward silence.

“What can I get you?”

Riley looked at her and blinked, like he was just waking up. “I’d like a burger,” he said. Then he turned to Karen. “Do you want something? I don’t think we ate dinner, did we?”

She shook her head slowly, as though she had to think about her answer. “No, I don’t think so.” She looked up at the waitress. “Can I get bacon and eggs, over easy?”

The waitress scribbled the order on her pad and promised to come back with the coffee in a minute.

When she left, Karen turned to me. “Things have been so insane, we literally forgot to eat. There’s a mountain of food—everybody and their grandma brought us a covered dish—but we didn’t eat any of it.”

I’d seen her do this before, get so wrapped up in a project that she forgot meals. But it was a new thing for Riley.
His work was physically demanding, and he usually had a healthy appetite, which was to say he ate enough for a small army and then burned it right back off. Until today.

With coffee at hand and food on the way, Karen started to ask a question, but Riley beat her to it. “What did you want to tell us?”

“I think I figured out why Bobby was hanging out at Mermaid’s Grotto,” I said.

Riley furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

“We were talking,” I explained hastily, “Karen and I, about how it didn’t make any sense why Bobby was hanging out at a tourist trap so much, instead of at The Tank.”

“But he was at The Tank,” Riley countered. “We all were.”

“Yes, but you told Karen he was going by the Grotto, too. Every day or two. That was where he hooked up with those divers, and nobody could figure out why he was there. Well”—I straightened my shoulders proudly—“I know why.”

“So tell us already!” Karen never was very patient.

“Two words: Megan Moretti.”

“Megan?” Riley said. “What’s she got to do with this?”

“She’s the reason Bobby was at the Grotto.” Hadn’t I just said that? I thought I’d been pretty clear. Maybe Riley was more confused than I thought. “He went there to see her.”

“So she’s back, I presume.” Karen stated the obvious.

“I just talked to her an hour ago,” I said. “So I guess the answer would be yes.”

“And Bobby’s been hanging around her again?” It was Riley’s turn to ask a question.

The tag-team approach was disconcerting. Usually these two talked over each other, each one trying to run the show.
Now they were taking turns, and the change was very unsettling.

“I just said that. But that’s not really what’s important.”

“So if that isn’t important,” Karen said in a tone that implied she thought it was, “then what is?”

The waitress returned with plates, and put them in front of my friends. Now if they would just keep their mouths busy with food, I could tell my story.

“We went to the Grotto for dinner.” That was as far as I got before Karen gave me another look. “Jake was asking about local restaurants—what was good, what was overrated—and I suggested the Grotto. I told him it was a piece of local history.” I snuck an apologetic glance at Jake. “I kind of had an ulterior motive in choosing it.”

“It was good,” Jake said with a smile. “And we got some useful information. A good choice for lots of reasons.”

“Anyway, we stopped at the bar after we ate, and there was Megan serving drinks behind the bar. Last I heard, she got married and moved to Jacksonville, but there she was, with her, um, assets on display, and no wedding ring.”

They both had their mouths full, and I filled them in on our conversation with Megan. Jake spoke up a couple times, adding bits and pieces I forgot.

By the time we’d told them what we knew, Riley looked like he wanted to punch somebody. “So whoever these guys are, they harassed Bobby into taking them out, then when they get busted they give the cops some song and dance and get Bobby arrested?”

“I don’t know about that,” Jake said evenly. “As I understand it—and correct me if I’m wrong—Bobby was arrested right along with everybody else. And they did let him make bail. The real problem is the dead diver.”

Karen made a sour face. “Yeah, and we all—well, except Jake—we all heard him threaten to kill them.”

I shook my head. “He was just mad. He didn’t mean it.”

Riley nodded vigorously in agreement. “He was just blowing off steam.”

“But to anyone like me who doesn’t know Bobby,” Jake said, “it sounds like a serious threat. Especially when one of the guys is murdered the next day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Riley’s voice held a challenge. “You think he did it?” His voice rose, and heads turned at nearby tables. “Well, he didn’t. I know he didn’t.”

“But I don’t,” Jake said, an edge creeping into his tone. “And that was my point. I
don’t
know him, or have any reason to believe or not believe. Except”—he pointed at me, then at Karen—“that two people I
do
know and trust tell me he didn’t do it.”

No one said anything for a few minutes. Karen stirred her coffee, even though she hadn’t added anything to it, and Jake fiddled with his napkin, wadding it into a tiny ball.

Finally, Jake broke the silence. “Has anyone heard who the divers were? What they were doing here?”

The three of us shook our heads.

“That’s actually one of the weirdest things,” Karen said. “Usually there’s gossip or rumors or an unofficial leak.
Something
. But I checked in with my station manager, and he said nobody’s heard a thing. Not a peep. It’s like the locals aren’t being told what’s going on.”

“Maybe this is just a little part of something bigger,” Jake suggested.

“But what?” Riley asked. “And I still don’t know why my brother got mixed up in this.”

“From what Megan told us, those guys were pretty persistent,”
I said. “What if they were afraid the cops were getting close? They wanted to finish their business and split. That would explain why they were so pushy.”

“And if the cops—or whoever they were—thought the divers were spooked, they would have grabbed everybody before they could get away,” Karen said.

She looked at Riley. “Your brother got mixed up in this because he wanted to impress a girl, I’m betting. He was acting like a big shot in front of Megan and promised to get the guys a boat.”

I had a hunch it might have been more than simply acting like a big shot; the more I thought about it, the more I suspected Bobby was trying to make Megan stop thinking of him as Riley’s little brother.

“A man can purely mess himself up trying to impress a girl,” he said, looking across to Jake for support.

“So true,” Jake said.

“But if Bobby didn’t kill that guy,” I asked, ignoring the moment of male bonding, “who did? Because the cops clearly think they have their guy, or they wouldn’t have arrested Bobby.

“That’s the most important question right now. Until we find the person who killed that diver, Bobby won’t get out.”

“Isn’t that the cops’ job?” Riley said.

“Yeah, like that worked so well for Kevin Stanley,” Karen replied, drily. “The police tried to call that an accident and make it go away.”

The previous fall, Kevin, star quarterback for the Keyhole Bay Buccaneers, had been killed in what looked like a tragic accident. But there was nothing accidental about his death, as I’d discovered.

“And if it hadn’t been for Sly and Bobo,” she continued,
looking at me, “you would have been the next one to have an ‘accident.’”

I shivered at the memory of my close call. Jimmy Parmenter, raging on steroids and fueled by jealousy and anger, had come close to making me seriously dead in the junkyard behind Fowler’s Auto Sales. Only the intervention of junkyard owner Sly and his dog, Bobo, kept me from joining Uncle Louis as a ghost.

“Be fair,” I said. “It wasn’t just Boomer. Everybody thought that was an accident.”

“Everybody except Uncle Louis,” Riley shot back.

“What? How did you know?” I stopped and glared at Karen. “You
told
him, didn’t you? What the—?” I clamped my mouth shut before I used several of Bluebeard’s—or should I say Uncle Louis’s?—favorite words.

Jake’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Am I missing something here? I thought Uncle Louis died when you were a little girl. How could he have anything to do with that Stanley kid?”

I buried my face in my hands. I didn’t want to tell Jake about Uncle Louis, not yet. I didn’t want him to think I was a crazy person, just as we were getting to be, well, whatever it was we were getting to be.

But it looked like, thanks to Karen’s loose lips and Riley’s big mouth, I might have to.

“Long story,” I muttered. “I’ll explain it later.” I didn’t mention how much later. Three or four years ought to be enough.

We talked a few minutes more, but none of us had any bright ideas about who might have wanted to kill Bobby’s customer. The best anyone could come up with was Karen’s suggestion of “a falling out among thieves.”

In the car on the way home, Jake brought up the subject of Uncle Louis again. “What did Riley mean when he said Uncle Louis didn’t believe Kevin’s wreck was an accident? It was pretty obvious there was something I didn’t know.”

I turned my head and looked out the window on my side, watching the dark waters of the bay slide past. The glow of a nearly full moon reflected on the water, broken by the light chop from the night wind. It looked as confused and chaotic as I felt, trying to come up with an answer.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said when I didn’t say anything. “Obviously, whatever it is, it’s none of my business. Forget I asked.”

The silence stretched uncomfortably between us. The car was suddenly cold in spite of the warm air flowing from the heater vents, and I wrapped my jacket around me.

We pulled up in front of Southern Treasures, and I grabbed my purse. “Thanks, Jake.”

That seemed inadequate, and I struggled to find the right words to dispel the chilly atmosphere. “I’d ask if you want to come in for a cup of coffee, but I’m willing to bet you’ve had enough for one night.”

That got a brief chuckle. “I think I’ve actually had enough coffee,” he said. “But I’d be glad to stay if you want company.”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what I had just said yes to, but I’d decided I had to trust Jake. He was still a mystery, but somebody had to make the first move.

That first move would be telling him about Bluebeard. Or, more accurately, about Uncle Louis.

I unlocked the front door and Jake followed me in. I
hesitated before I switched on a light, wondering what fresh chaos might greet us.

Bluebeard, still awake, stuck his head out of his cage, and I realized with a start that it was not yet midnight. With all that had happened, it felt like it should be much later.

Everything was in order, though that wasn’t always the case. Sometimes Bluebeard, or Uncle Louis, would move things in order to get my attention.

Tonight Bluebeard settled for simply staring directly at me, and saying clearly, “People don’t just come back for no reason.”

Chapter 12

I SNUCK A GLANCE AT JAKE
.

His eyes grew wide, and he turned to me. “Does he talk like that often?”

“That,” I said drily, “is what I have to tell you about. Come on upstairs.” I gestured toward the staircase at the back of the shop.

It was going to be another long night.

“You’re going to think I’m nuts,” I said once we were settled on the sofa. I’d made cocoa, just as Linda had the night before, looking for something to hang on to while I destroyed my budding friendship/romance/whatever-it-was with Jake.

“I doubt it,” he said. “Besides, I like people who color a little outside the lines.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn’t reassured. He didn’t know just how far outside the lines I went.

“Downstairs,” I continued, “you asked if Bluebeard talked ‘like that’ often. Well, he does and he doesn’t. He does say things that seem a bit, um,
unusual
from time to time. But I am pretty sure it isn’t really Bluebeard who comes up with them.”

I looked away, afraid to face Jake. “I think it’s Uncle Louis.” I hesitated, then the words tumbled out, like water spilling over the banks of a flooded stream.