Rigged for Murder (Windjammer Mystery Series) (9 page)

Brie looked out to sea. There was no horizon line, only a grayness that seemed to match the lack of definition she felt. When she turned back there was resignation in her voice. “I guess this means I’ll be conducting the investigation by myself,” she said. “So, let’s get the body to a secure place, and then we need to get to a radio.”

“Scott, you and Tim lift the backboard up. Brie and I will help slide it onto the dock.” This done, Scott and Tim boosted themselves out of the boat, and, with each person on a corner, they started for the general store with the body.

As they made their way along, Brie scanned the cluster of houses that huddled along the hill near the waterfront. From the second-story window of a small Cape-Cod house, a woman with raven hair watched them. When she realized Brie had noticed her, she stepped back into the shadows. Brie wasn’t surprised. In a tiny village like this she imagined lots of other windows were occupied by curious onlookers.
I’d certainly be interested if I saw four people carrying what looked like a body through the rain.

When they arrived at the back door of his store, Fred Klemper was waiting for them. He was a ghost of a man, tall, thin, and anemic-looking.
Ideal to watch over a corpse
, Brie thought. She had the odd impression that, were he placed in front of a bright light, she’d see right through him. The magnifying glasses he wore slid down his nose, and with a spindly finger he pushed them back up. Brie noticed a gleam of anticipation in his owlish eyes, as if he relished the thought of a murder victim in his cooler. She could picture him creeping in there late at night for a peek, to add a little excitement to what she suspected was an existence lacking in drama.

They followed Fred through the back door into a storeroom that held a small walk-in cooler. Fred preceded them into the cooler and gestured to the right. “You can put him against the wall there,” he said. “I’ve moved all the food to the other side.”

They maneuvered the body through the door. As they entered the cooler, Brie noted that the temperature on the large thermometer was just above freezing—perfectly suited to their needs. They placed Pete’s body along the right wall and quickly exited the makeshift morgue.

John introduced his crew and then struck up a brief conversation with Fred. “I’m hoping the Coast Guard will be able to get to us by tomorrow or the day after,” he said. “We certainly appreciate your help, Fred.”

“No problem. Glad to be of help. Storm’s pretty bad. May be a few days.” Fred spoke in a slow cadence, punctuating each statement with a series of either nods or shakes of his head—an eccentricity that amused Brie.

“He’ll be safe in here,” Fred continued. “I always lock the cooler at night.”

Brie suppressed a smile.
We wouldn’t want the body to make a break for it
, she thought to herself.

“Well, thanks again, Fred, we’ll get out of your way now.”

“Would you like some coffee? Just gonna make some.” Fred glanced across the storeroom to where he kept a coffee maker next to his old roll-top desk.

“Thanks, but we have to stop up at the inn and then get back to the ship,” John shook Fred’s thin hand carefully. “I’ll take a rain check, though.”

“Sure enough.” Fred got off two nods. “There’ll be plenty of rain for usin’ that check the next few days,” he said with enthusiasm, as if the prospect of more rain were cause for excessive glee.

They left by the back door and headed around the side of the store to the gravel road that wound past the village and up toward Snug Harbor Bed and Breakfast. Mud sucked at their shoes as they slogged along. Brie was glad for the exercise. It kept the cold at bay and helped to relieve some of the stress that had been building inside her since Alyssa’s middle-of-the-night scream.

She fell into step with John. “How old are Glenn and Betty?” she asked.

“I think they’re around 65,” John said. “I know they’re close to Ben’s age, and he’s 68.”

“We need to tell Glenn to have the Coast Guard contact the authorities where Pete lived, so his family will be notified.”

“I brought along Pete’s application to give Glenn. It has his parents’ address and phone number on it. They live in Brunswick. I’m planning to visit them when we get back to the mainland.”

A few more minutes’ climb brought them around the last curve in the road, and there stood the inn. Brie stopped to take in the setting. Even with rain falling, the place had such appeal. Stately cedar trees graced the sloping lawn, and wild rose bushes grew along the base of the porch. Comfortable wicker furniture and wooden rocking chairs invited guests to sit and take in the view of the cove below and the ocean beyond.

They made their way across the wide lawn and climbed the porch steps. Brie turned and looked out to sea. “A place like this could make you look forward to retirement,” she said.

John stepped onto the porch directly behind her. “That view sure is easy on the soul.” His presence behind her felt almost magnetic to Brie. She suddenly had a strong urge to rest her head back onto his shoulder. She resisted the thought and stepped away from him just as the door to the inn opened. A trim woman with shoulder-length gray hair stepped out.

“John, is that you? We saw the
Maine Wind
in the cove.”

John gave her a big hug. “Hello, Betty. It’s good to see you again.”

“How are you, dear?” she said, with all the warmth of a mother to her own son.

“I’m fine, just fine. I apologize for the hour.”

“Oh, nonsense! Glenn and I are always up at the crack of dawn. Come in, come in. It’s nasty out here.” She ushered them through the front door into a wide hallway.

A pumpkin-pine floor glowing with orange and brown tones stretched toward a formal staircase that ascended to the second floor. A jade-green oriental rug filled the center of the hall. On it sat a heavily-carved mahogany table with a pitcher of lilacs on top.

“Glenn!” Betty called. “It’s John. John is here.”

“Well, for heaven sakes,” Glenn said as he came out of the library at the back of the central hallway. He was wearing his slippers and reading glasses, but that was as far as the old man image went. He came across the hall with the stride of a man in his forties and gave John a backslapping hug. “How are you, son?”

“Just fine, Glenn. You’re looking as spry as ever.”

“That’s thanks to Betty. She doesn’t let me get too lazy. And who are these fine folks?”

“These are two of my shipmates, Brie Beaumont and Tim Pelletier,” John said. “And this is Scott Hogan, my first mate.”

“Come and have some coffee. And tell us what brings you up here so early,” Betty said. They removed their shoes, and Betty herded them back toward the kitchen.

“Actually, Brie and I need to speak to you and Glenn privately,” John said. “Maybe Scott and Tim could wait in the kitchen.”

“That’s fine. Let me get you all some coffee. Then we’ll go into the living room.”

They moved through the second door on the left into a formal dining room. “Wow, this is lovely.” Brie was surprised by the amount of light pouring into the room on such a dreary day. On the opposite wall a long bank of leaded-glass windows looked out onto an ornately fenced perennial garden. “This must be incredible on a sunny day,” she said.

They walked through the dining room and into the inn’s large kitchen. Brie looked around. The room was a good fifteen feet wide and ran all the way across the back of the inn. A sturdy work table with a butcher-block top sat in the center of the kitchen, and at the far end were three square tables covered with gingham cloths, each with a set of high-back chairs around it. Brie could imagine the guests gathering here for coffee and conversation. As they hung their raincoats on the chairs, she saw Glenn notice her gun and send John a concerned look.

Betty moved over to the cupboard next to the stove and took out six stoneware mugs. She filled them with steaming coffee and handed two of them to Scott and Tim. “Now, you two gentlemen make yourselves at home,” she said. From the back of the counter she brought out a plate of cranberry muffins, removed the plastic wrap and set them on the work table. “Help yourselves. You must be hungry.”

“Thanks, Betty. That’s very kind,” John said. “We could all use a few calories about now.” He and Brie selected muffins and placed them on the plates Betty had set out. Then they took their mugs of coffee and walked into the living room with Glenn and Betty. They sat in four wing chairs that flanked a brown brick fireplace.

John wasted no time broaching the topic. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but it’s a grim situation that brings us here. Last night my second mate, Pete McAllister, was murdered on board the
Maine Wind
.”

“Lord save us!” Betty’s hands flew up to cover her mouth. Glenn jumped up and stepped over behind her chair. He placed his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. Betty seemed suddenly older and frailer.

Silence fell—the aftershock of what had been revealed. Finally Glenn spoke. “What can we do to help you, John?”

“First of all, our radio was sabotaged, and we need to notify the Coast Guard.”

“I’ll radio them immediately,” Glenn said. “What else can we do?”

“It so happens that Brie is a detective, on leave from the Minneapolis Police Department.”

“That’s amazing too,” Glenn said. “What are the chances of that?” He glanced at her gun—this time with seeming relief.

John continued. “Our problem is, with the storm blowing, we could be stuck here for several days. And considering what’s happened, I think it would be good to get the passengers off the ship for a while. I was hoping we might bring them here for the day. Brie needs to begin questioning them, and the inn would offer more privacy for doing that.”

“You’re certainly welcome to use the inn, John,” Betty said.

Glenn hesitated as he looked down at Betty. “Are you concerned for the safety of any of the other passengers?” he asked.

“It’s the most important consideration in a situation like this,” said Brie. “We must take every precaution. As I’ve explained to John, most murderers are after one victim, but the fact is, we just don’t know. Frankly, I’d feel better if you and Betty weren’t here if we bring the others to the inn. But would you be comfortable having us here when you’re gone?”

“We trust John,” Glenn said. He turned to face DuLac. “You know your way around this place as well as anyone. I know you won’t let anything bad happen here. You and Ben have certainly helped us out enough over the years. This would give us a chance to return a little of your kindness. I’ll leave it to Betty to arrange the details with you. I’d like to get that call in to the Coast Guard.”

John gave Glenn the sheet containing Pete’s information and asked him to have the Coast Guard notify the authorities in Brunswick.

“Do you have any friends on the island you might visit for the day?” Brie asked Betty.

“We could probably visit our friends, Frank and Helen Thompson, who live on the other side of the island. They’ve wanted us to stop over and help them plan some new garden space. Glenn is quite a gardener, you know.” As she spoke, Betty made a motion with her hand, indicating the perennial garden on the west side of the inn. “I’ll give them a call right now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“John and I will wait here,” Brie said.

Betty headed for the door to the hallway, but before leaving the room, she paused and turned back to them. “You know, there’s something familiar about that name—Pete’s name. I just can’t seem to remember why.” Shaking her head in a distracted way, she turned and left the room.

John sat back down, and he and Brie took the opportunity to eat their muffins and down their mugs of coffee.

Glenn came back into the room first. “I reached the Coast Guard and reported the situation. They said they’re swamped with distress calls from the gale, and if no one’s in immediate danger, they’ll get to you after the storm has lessened. Sounds like it could be at least another twenty-four hours.”

“I expected as much,” John said.

“Oh, and they’ll notify the police over in Brunswick to get ahold of Pete’s parents.”

“Thanks, Glenn.”

“Betty went to call your friends, the Thompsons. She thought you two might spend the day with them,” Brie said.

“That’s perfect,” Glenn nodded. “We’ve been planning to get over to their place for two months now. So, in a way you’ve done us a favor. Be watchful of things, though, John. Betty and I have put our hearts into Snug Harbor. We’d hate to have anything compromise our feelings for this place.”

“I’ll make sure nothing happens, Glenn. Before I forget, is it all right if the passengers use your extra shower facilities downstairs? Before all this happened, I promised if we came up here they could all get a nice hot shower.”

“By all means,” Glenn said, “and, what’s more, it’s on the house.” He turned to Brie to explain. “Part of what we advertise is that boaters are always welcome to stop at the inn for a hot shower and a hot lunch. We installed some nice facilities downstairs. There are five shower stalls with a small dressing room off each. We supply towels and hair dryers for a fee of five dollars per shower. It’s surprising how many people we get—I guess the shower facilities on most boats aren’t all that great. Quite a few folks who come up for a shower end up staying for either lunch or tea. So, it’s a nice little sideline business. And a good number of them have returned at some point to stay at the inn.”

Betty came back in. “We’re all set with the Thompsons,” she said. “They invited us to stay for dinner, too. John, would you like me to prepare a lunch for your passengers before we leave?” she asked.

“No need for that, Betty. Our cook, George Dupopolis, will take care of preparing lunch if you don’t mind him using the kitchen.”

“Heavens no,” Betty said, waving a hand. “Tell him to help himself to whatever he needs. There are plenty of supplies in the larder.”

“We’ll have dinner back on the ship later in the evening,” John said, standing up. “We should start back. It’s eight o’clock, and I was hoping to get back to the ship by 8:15.” He and Brie picked up their plates and mugs. As the four of them walked back to the kitchen, Glenn gave John a key to the inn, along with a phone number where he and Betty could be reached.