Tapas, Carrot Cake and a Corpse (A Charlotte Denver Cozy Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

She’d just sat down when a young man walked in and sat on one of the high, wooden barstools, a short distance away from where she sat outside the kitchen. 

“Hi,” standing up again, she greeted him amiably and went behind the bar to serve him.  “What would you like?”

“Oh, you work here?” he said.

“Yes, it’s my café.  I’m usually in the kitchen, but I’m just grabbing a quick break before the lunchtime rush really takes off,” she grinned.

“You work here on your own?” the man asked.

“What?  Oh, no – Jess works with me, but she’s out on the front terrace.  You must have walked past her when you came in.”

The man turned and looked out to where Jess was talking animatedly to an elderly couple, gesticulating wildly.  “Looks like she’s got her hands full,” he smiled as he spoke.

At that moment, Jess came in.  “Sorry about that,” she addressed the young man cordially, “I saw you come in, but I was in the middle of giving an elderly German couple directions to the tourist information centre.  What can I get you?”

“It’s OK,” said Charlotte, from behind the bar, “I’ve got this.”  She turned back to the man.  “So, let me guess.  I’ve never seen you around, so you’ve either just moved to the area, or you’re here on holiday?”

“Neither, actually.  I’m just passing through, but I’m hoping to catch up with an old friend who lives around here.  I’ll be staying for a few days, I think - and I’ll have a black coffee please.” 

Charlotte quickly looked the man over as she made his coffee.  She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark-blonde hair and aquamarine eyes perfectly showcased by a light suntan.  It occurred to her that if she were ever on the lookout to hire some eye-candy to set her customers’ hearts fluttering, he would be the perfect candidate.

“There you go,” she placed a coffee cup in front of him and took the money he handed her in payment.  As she gave him his change, she introduced herself.  “I’m Charlotte,” she stuck out her hand over the bar and, smiling widely, he shook it firmly.

“Nice to meet you, Charlotte.  I’m Blake.”

“That’s a beautiful piece of jewellery, Blake,” Charlotte noticed the heavy silver pendant he wore around his neck on a braided leather cord and leaned forward to admire it.  “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” 

“What, this old thing?” Blake grinned.  “Actually, it’s very special to me - I’ve had it for years, and it’s never left my neck since I put it on.”

Charlotte was about to continue the conversation when she was interrupted by raised voices outside. 

The ‘Ladies Lunch Club’ had arrived.

Chapter 3

“Three of our regular ladies have just arrived for lunch,” Charlotte explained to Blake.  “They’re lovely women, but they have a habit of all speaking at once, so it can get quite loud at times.”  Charlotte stuck her fingers in her ears and grinned.  “Excuse me for a minute, will you?  I must just pop out and say hello to everyone.”  She pressed a button on the register keypad to lock it and went outside. 

“Afternoon, all - nice to see you.”  She went from table to table, spending time talking with every customer, finishing up where Jess was listening intently to the women as they collectively chattered away.

“Hi ladies – Ava, Harriett, Betty – how are you all?”

Charlotte was particularly fond of the three women, all of whom had known her parents for years, and her, since she was born.  Not only had they been tremendously supportive when she’d come back to the UK after the death of her parents, but when she’d opened the café, they had been her first customers, raving about the food and spreading the word far and wide about “the great little place that’s opened at the end of the marina.” 

She knew that they’d been largely responsible for the constant stream of customers who had come through the doors during the first couple of months after opening.  She knew it, because most of them had told her that “Ava sent me,” or “Harriett told me I must come and try your tapas,” or “Betty said this is the best food in St. Eves.”

She hugged all three women, before asking Jess if she would check on the young man at the bar when she went inside to fetch the champagne and tapas appetisers.

At the mention of the young man, all three women leaned sideways to look past Charlotte and into the café.  Ava looked over the top of her glasses and fanned herself dramatically with her napkin.  “Phew!  Someone call the fire brigade before I burst into flames!” 

“Who
is
that?” Harriett asked as she surreptitiously gawped at him around the side of her open menu. 

“What’s the special today?” asked Betty, far more interested in deciding on what she was going to have for lunch than ogling the attractive young man at the bar.

Charlotte reeled off the specials before turning to Ava and Harriett.  “Well ladies, you’ll be pleased to know that Blake – that’s his name - is going to be around for a few days, so no doubt you’ll be seeing him again.  He seems like a really nice guy.”

Jess reappeared with the champagne bucket and a tray of tapas.  “You’re right, he does seem like a really nice guy …
and
he’s single.”  She raised her eyebrows in Charlotte’s direction as she began to open the champagne. 

“How do you know that?” Charlotte asked in surprise.

“I asked him, of course.  How else would I know?” said Jess as she popped the cork to pour the bubbly pink liquid into champagne flutes. 

“Well, I’m far too busy for a relationship.  I hardly get any time for myself, let alone for a boyfriend,” Charlotte said firmly. 

“Well … if
you’re
not interested, my dear …” Ava dabbed daintily at the corners of her fuchsia-painted mouth with her napkin.

“Will you behave yourself, for goodness sake!  You’re a married woman … and you’re old enough to be his grandmother!” Harriett rebuked her good-naturedly.

“Yes, alright, I don’t need reminding, thank you,” Ava replied, a little huffily, “but there’s no harm in a little window shopping, is there?  What d’you say Betty?”

“Mmmm, what?  Oh … the tapas are yummy,” said Betty, munching happily on a prawn.

“I wasn’t talking about the appetisers … oh, never mind,” Ava tutted and began perusing the menu.

Charlotte laughed as she turned and went back into the café.  Between them, the ladies cultivated a veritable hothouse of local gossip, but they all had hearts of gold and she loved them dearly. 

Inside, she found Blake chatting away with the surfers.  When he saw her, he swung himself off the barstool and excused himself to the group.  “Have a great day, guys,” they exchanged casual handshakes before he turned back to Charlotte.  “Well, I should get going, but no doubt I’ll see you around.  Good to meet you.”  He smiled and walked out of the café, nodding to Jess and the ladies before turning left up the marina front, completely unaware of the admiring glances his retreating denim-clad behind was receiving. 

Before long, Charlotte was working at full-speed again, a stream of orders signalling the onset of the busy lunchtime trade.  By the time the last of the specials had been sold, and everyone apart from the ladies had left, it was almost 5.30 pm.

The café closed at 6.00 pm and she was looking forward to sitting down with a large glass of wine after she’d finished work.  Until then, she was curious to meet the newcomer to the neighbourhood, and she went out to say hello.

“Ah, Charlotte dear,” said Ava as she saw her approach.  “Let me introduce you to Samantha Driscoll.” 

Charlotte held out her hand to the woman who looked to be in her early 30’s.  Dressed in a figure-hugging leopard print catsuit that showcased her cavernous cleavage, her platinum-blonde hair was a voluminous cloud around her heart-shaped, perfectly made-up face.  Big blue eyes were adorned with spiky, black false lashes and her Cupid ’s bow mouth was painted with high gloss, baby-pink lipstick.  She was attractive in a rather obvious way, and Charlotte thought how much prettier the woman would look without all that makeup plastered on her face.

“Hello, it’s very nice to meet you,” Samantha smiled as she shuffled round in her chair and took Charlotte’s extended hand.

“Likewise,” Charlotte returned the smile.

“The lunch was delicious,” Samantha continued.  “Look, I know this is rather sudden, but I wonder if you’d be interested in doing the catering for a small party we’re throwing on our boat next week?  It’s
The Lady Samantha
on Pier 4 and your tapas would be the perfect finger food.

“We’ve been here for a couple of weeks now, and we haven’t really met anyone properly.  We’re thinking of inviting some people from neighbouring boats, along with a few others, just so we can introduce ourselves and get to know people.  Do you think that’s something you’d be interested in?”  She looked hopefully at Charlotte.

“It’s
definitely
something I’d be interested in,” Charlotte answered.  “If we could get together some time, you can tell me exactly what you have in mind and I can give you some costs.”

“Perfect.”  Samantha looked relieved.  “How about tomorrow?  Perhaps you could come down to the boat after you’ve finished here for the day and we can discuss things?”

“Actually, the café’s closed on Saturdays, so I can meet you earlier in the day if that’s more convenient?” Charlotte answered.

“Oh, well in that case, how about you come down at around 9.00 am?  Or is that too early?”

“No, that’s fine.  I’ll look forward to it.”

Samantha pushed on a pair of oversized sunglasses and brushed imaginary crumbs from her thighs.  “Well, ladies, I’ve had a wonderful afternoon – thank you so much for your kindness in inviting me to lunch.  I hope you’ll all come to the party?”

She was in the process of bidding the ladies goodbye when Ava tapped her arm insistently.  “Look, there’s the young man I was telling you about.”  Samantha turned on her best pout and looked up the marina front to see Blake striding down it towards them.  “Isn’t he a dish?” Ava said, admiringly.

However, far from being struck by Blake, Samantha became positively flustered.  “Oh, my goodness … I’ve suddenly, er, remembered that I, er, have an appointment.  I must run.”  And with that, she picked up her handbag and made a swift exit down the footpath at the side of the café, as fast as her stiletto-heeled ankle boots would carry her.

“See you tomorrow!” Charlotte called after her before turning back to the rest of the group.  “What on earth was all that about?  She looked like she’d seen a ghost.”

“Well, she was perfectly alright until she saw Blake.  He obviously has more of an effect on women than he’s aware of,” said Harriett.

Blake took off his sunglasses as he reached them.  “Hello again, I thought I’d stop by for a quick beer – if you’re still open, that is?”

“Of course,” Charlotte replied.  “We close around six, but you’re OK for a beer.  I’ll bring one out for you.  Bottle or draught?”

“Bottle, please and it’s OK, I’ll come in – I prefer to sit at a bar,” Blake smiled at the ladies and followed Charlotte inside.

As she cracked the top off the bottle, Charlotte asked, casually, “I don’t mean to be nosy, but do you know Samantha Driscoll?”  She passed the beer to Blake and noted that not a flicker of recognition crossed his face.

“No,” he shook his head and took a swig from the ice-cold bottle.  “Why - should I?”

“No - no, not at all.  It’s just that she was here, but when she saw you coming down the marina, she took off rather quickly.  Mind you, she did say that she’d forgotten about an appointment she had to get to, so I suppose she was flustered because of that.”

She chatted with Blake for a while and he left shortly after 6.00 pm.  She went out to say goodbye to Ava, Harriett and Betty before she and Jess brought all the tables and chairs inside, and between them, they cleaned the kitchen and café.  When they were done, they sat at the bar with a glass of wine each and chatted about the day, things they had to do, Blake, Samantha, and in particular, her strange exit earlier.

“I asked Blake if he knew her and he said he didn’t, so I suppose she was in a tizzy because she was late for her appointment,” said Charlotte. 

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, he can pop in here any time he likes,” Jess giggled as she topped up their glasses. 

They chatted for a while longer before Charlotte switched off the lights and locked up, and they left for home.

As she unchained her bike, she was overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of unease.  Something wasn’t right, she could feel in her bones, but as she pedalled off up the marina front, the breeze gently blowing her hair from her face and the last rays of the sun warming her back, all thoughts of impending disaster disappeared.

For now, anyway.

Chapter 4

Shortly before 9.00 am the next morning, Charlotte got off her bike and chained it to the railings at the entrance to Pier 4, took a notebook and pen out of her basket, and took a slow walk down towards
The Lady Samantha
.  She loved mornings on the marina – it was quiet and relatively still – and the sun was gaining strength little by little. 

As she reached the boat, she was surprised to see the gangplank down.  Samantha had told her that she wouldn’t be back from her run until just after 9.00 am and Gabe would be at the gym until around 9.30 am. 
Perhaps one of them got back early
, she thought.

When she reached the boat, she knocked on the metal gangplank.  “Hello, it’s Charlotte – permission to come aboard?”  There was no answer.  Aware that some of the boat residents may still be asleep, she was reluctant to raise her voice too much, so she tapped again and called out as loudly as she dare.  “Samantha?  It’s me, Charlotte.  Are you there?”

Still no answer. 

She decided that the best course of action would be to get on the boat.  Perhaps whoever was on board was below deck and couldn’t hear her.  Negotiating the gangplank, she jumped off onto the deck and cautiously walked around to the bow in case, by some remote chance, someone had fallen asleep on one of the sun loungers.  They hadn’t. 

“Hellooo, anyone home?”  Still no answer.  “OK, I’m coming down – I hope you’re decent if you’re down there!” she called out as she climbed down the stairs to the salon area.

She was immediately struck by the opulence of the interior.  Mahogany and chrome furniture and deep pile carpets adorned the cabin.  Without doubt, this was one of the most luxurious boats she’d ever set foot on. 

As she moved cautiously through the cabin, it began to occur to her that something was definitely not right. 
Why is the gangplank down if there’s no-one home?
  She approached what she assumed must be the bedroom.  Tentatively, she knocked on the door.  “Hello, Samantha … it’s Charlotte.  Are you in there?  Is
anyone
in there?” 

Still no answer.

She opened the door and her notebook and pen fell to the floor as her hand flew to her mouth.

Lying on the bed was Blake.  His aquamarine eyes were wide and staring and he was apparently, quite, quite dead.

She screamed and rushed back up the stairs as fast as she could.  With trembling hands, she dialled Nathan’s number.

After four rings, he answered gruffly.  “Hello, Nathan Costello.” 

“Oh my God, Nathan.  You’ve got to get here now.  I’m on the boat and I think Blake’s dead and Samantha isn’t here and I don’t know what to do ….”

“Charlotte?  Slow down, I can barely understand you.  You’re gabbling.  Now slowly, tell me again what’s going on.”

Charlotte took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself.  “Listen - you have to get down to the marina now.  I’m on Pier 4 on
The Lady Samantha
and there’s a dead body on here.  Well, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.  Can you get here now?”

“On my way,” Nathan had hung up before she’d had the chance to say any more.

She climbed down the gangplank and waited on the pier.  She didn’t know whether to hang around there or wait in the café, but she decided it would be best to stay on the pier.  The odd person passed by, nodding “good morning” and she nodded back, thinking how surreal the situation was.  Here she was, exchanging pleasantries with total strangers and there was a dead body lying not twenty feet away from them.

Ten minutes later, Nathan arrived with two Police Constables and two Scene of Crime Officers, or SOCO as they were more commonly known.  When she saw him, she remembered that today was his day off too – or supposed to be – and realised that her call had most likely woken him. 

His 6’2” frame was dressed in faded jeans, desert boots, and a white t-shirt that showed off his muscular arms and torso.  Charlotte guessed that he’d rolled straight out of bed, jumped in the shower and come straight down.  His dark hair was damp and the merest shadow of stubble darkened his chin. 
He must have been so keen to get down here, he didn’t even have time to shave
, she thought.  As he approached her, she noticed that despite his rude awakening, his hazel eyes were bright and alert.  He smiled warmly.    

“Morning, Charlotte.  Right, where’s this body?”

Charlotte told Nathan where to find Blake and answered a few of his questions.  She told him who the boat belonged to and why she’d been on board.  By this time, it was 9.30 am and there was still no sign of Samantha or her husband, Gabe.

She told Nathan what had happened the previous day, when Samantha had reacted so strangely when she’d seen Blake, and that Blake had denied knowing her.  “It seems awfully strange that Blake and Samantha denied knowing each other, but now he’s lying dead in the bedroom on her boat, don’t you think?” she asked Nathan. 

“I’ll do the police work if you don’t mind, thank you, Charlotte,” the hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth.  “OK, we’ll need to take a statement from you, and fingerprints too – PC Dillon will come and speak to you in a minute.  You didn’t move anything, did you?  Good.”  He began addressing the other officer.  “Right, PC Farrell.  Can you get the coroner down here please?  Until we know more, no-one is allowed on this boat unless it’s a member of my team, OK?”

As Charlotte gave her statement, she became aware of the crowd of people gathering at the entrance to the pier.  Some of them were even walking up towards them, trying to see what was going on. 

“Get anyone who doesn’t need to be here off the pier, will you?” Nathan said to PC Farrell.  “And by that, I mean people who aren’t police, or who don’t have a boat on this pier – we’ll need to set up a cordon.” 

At that moment, Samantha appeared.  Her face was pink and her breathing rapid as she pushed through the crowd  and approached the boat.  “Oh Charlotte, I’m sorry I’m so late – I’ve run all the way.  I met a friend on the high street and we got chatting.  I didn’t realise how much time had flown by until … er, what’s going on?  Who are those people on my boat?”

Charlotte looked at her sympathetically.  “Oh, Samantha – I’m sorry – there’s been an accident.  Um, perhaps Nathan should speak to you.  Nathan, this is Samantha Driscoll – the owner of the boat.  Samantha, this is Chief Inspector Costello.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Samantha’s voice had risen to a panicked screech.  “Oh my God!  Has something happened to Gabe?  Let me get on – I need to see him.  Is he OK?”

“It’s not your husband, Mrs. Driscoll,” Nathan was authoritative, but gentle in his tone.  “It’s another gentleman,” he looked at his notebook.  “Someone called Blake, I believe – I’m afraid he’s dead.”

Charlotte watched as Samantha’s face crumpled and she began to cry – great, shaking sobs that came from deep inside. 
Well, that doesn’t seem like the reaction of someone who didn’t know the deceased, that’s for sure
, she thought.

After a few minutes, Samantha’s weeping subsided.  “Oh, I’m sorry … you must think I’m crazy,” she said, as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, “blubbing over someone I’ve never even met.  But I feel so terribly sorry for him and so relieved that it’s not my husband.  Why was he on our boat in the first place?  Was it a burglary?”

“Well, that’s something you and your husband will have to help us to ascertain,” said Nathan.  “There doesn’t seem to be anything disturbed, but you’ll know better than us whether or not any valuables have been taken.”

“Samantha!  Samantha!  What the bloody hell’s going on?” a deep voice shouted up the pier as a tall man with dark, slicked-back hair walked towards them.  It didn’t escape Charlotte’s attention that he was in remarkably good shape, and when he removed his sunglasses, he revealed piercing light grey eyes that seemed to be lit up from within.

“Oh, Gabe – there’s someone on the boat,” Samantha clung to him and started crying again.

“What?  Who?  I’ll kill ‘em.  Have they stolen anything?  Let me get at ‘em.” He tried to shove his way past Nathan, but he stopped him easily. 

“No, Gabe,” Samantha tugged at his arm.  “He’s dead.  The man on our boat is dead.”

“Dead?  What d’you mean, dead?  How did he die?”

Nathan quickly explained the situation.  “We don’t know yet, but the coroner will be arriving later to remove the body and ascertain the cause of death.  At the moment, we have no reason to believe that there are any suspicious circumstances, but until we’ve established the facts, I’m afraid that you and Mrs. Driscoll will not be allowed back on board.  We’re treating the boat as a potential crime scene until we know more.  Now if you’ll excuse me.”  He turned and began speaking to PC Dillon.

Charlotte decided that it would be a good idea to open up the café for a while.  It would give the Driscolls somewhere to sit while the police carried on with their investigations, and they would at least be able to have something to eat and drink if they wanted to.  She told Nathan what she was going to do and he agreed that it was a good idea. 

“If it’s OK with you, we can use it as a base while we’re down here – for interviews and paperwork.  That’s good of you Charlotte, thanks,” he smiled briefly before resuming his conversation with the young officer.

“Come on,” she said to Gabe and Samantha kindly.  “Come down to the café with me – I’ll make you a cup of coffee or tea, and some breakfast, if you like.”

Inside the café, she set up a few tables and chairs and cleared a space for Gabe and Samantha to sit.  Samantha had started to shake – delayed shock seemed to be setting in. 
I know just the thing for that
, thought Charlotte, and busied herself behind the bar. 

“Here, have this – it should make you feel better.”  She set down a mug of tea laced with honey and a drop of brandy and Samantha hugged it between her hands. 

“By the way, I’m Charlotte Denver,” she held out her hand to Gabe. 

“Gabe Driscoll,” he shook her hand.  “This is very kind of you, Charlotte, to open the café just to give us somewhere to sit.  I’m sure they won’t be too long on the boat.  I mean, it’s unlikely that there’s been any foul play, wouldn’t you think?  I mean, it isn’t as though St. Eves is a crime hotspot, is it?” he questioned Charlotte.

“Oh no,” she answered, “far from it.  In fact, it’s one of the reasons I love it so much.  I’m sure the poor man simply died of natural causes, although why he was on your boat in the first place remains a mystery to be solved.”

She made a cappuccino for Gabe and chatted to him as Samantha sipped her tea.  He proudly told her that he was a self-made man – amassing his fortune when he sold his chain of pet-gyms to a Swedish company for an undisclosed, eight-figure sum, shortly after his first wife had passed away five years ago. 

He told Charlotte that at 58, he was well aware of what certain people thought of him and Samantha being together.  She was 31 and drop-dead-gorgeous, and although they seemed an unlikely couple, they loved each other and didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion. 

He’d met Samantha four years ago at a charity fundraising event for animals in crisis.  She’d been waitressing at the dinner, and he’d
caught her eye when he kept asking for her to wait on his table.  At the end of the evening, they’d left the event together and from that day, had been almost inseparable.  Six months later, they’d married in secret and although he couldn’t have been happier with Samantha, his children felt very differently about their new stepmother.  They were worried about their inheritance, he told Charlotte.  He said that it would have suited them if he’d remained single until his dying day, shrivelled up and without a woman in his life, because then, his fortune would remain unthreatened and uncontested when he died.

As he spoke, Charlotte thought that despite the age gap, he and Samantha were well-suited.  He looked young for his age and had a way about him that was charming and boyish.  He obviously worked hard to maintain his appearance – he’d been at the gym that morning, and it was quite apparent that he looked after himself in other ways too.  His dark hair was well groomed and his nails were immaculately manicured.  She also noticed though, that the nails on one hand were rather dirty, and not at all in keeping with the rest of his appearance. 

“You’re wondering how I keep so young-looking, aren’t you?”  Gabe’s question interrupted her thoughts.

“What, oh …,” Charlotte felt her cheeks flush as it dawned on her that she must have been staring at him without realising.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to stare.”  She looked embarrassed as she admitted, “I was just thinking how good you look together – despite what anyone else thinks, I think you look great.”

Gabe puffed out his chest a little as he admitted, “I have a facial once a week and a mani-pedi once every two weeks.  Thanks to Samantha,” he gave her a squeeze, “I look better now than I did ten years ago.  I’m very in touch with my feminine side, aren’t I, love?” Amused by his own comment, he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“Shush, Gabe … please.  I don’t think it’s appropriate to be joking when that poor young man is lying dead on our boat,” Samantha sniffed and dabbed at her eyes.  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to feel safe on there again.”

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