A Fishy Dish (A Hooked & Cooked Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) (3 page)

Samantha slurped the hot chowder off her spoon. “A Sam Stone?” she asked before enjoying another spoonful.

Hannah nodded. “Yeah. You know him?”

She tilted her bowl to get the last bit at the bottom. “Sure do.” She pushed the bowl toward Hannah. “That hit the spot. Let’s go. Don’t worry about Mr. Stone. He and I have an understanding.”

Hannah wasn’t sure what to make of this bossy woman who seemed to know more than she was saying.

Samantha retrieved a big canvas bag from her car and joined Hannah in the office. Jack grinned like an old fool before he gave her a bear hug. “Glad to see you again, Sam. It’s been a long time”

Hannah’s head jerked around. “Sam?”

“Yup.” Samantha shoved glasses over her eyes and settled a dark blue, I-heart-Maine cap on her head. “Sam Stone. At your service.”

Hannah’s mouth fell open. Samantha’s hat covered her short silver curls with only a few wisps peeking out around her ears. The round, tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose transformed her face in a masculine direction. If she didn’t know better, Hannah would never have suspected that the face she was staring at belonged to a woman.

“Close your mouth, Hannah. It’s not polite to stare,” Jack said. “Samantha made me promise not to reveal her little secret.”

“I love to see people’s reactions.” She slapped her thigh. “It just kills me to be able to walk around as a man. You know, when I started out in the detective world, no one would give me the time of day until I showed up with my Sam Stone act.” She shrugged. “I like having my cake and eating it too, if you know what I mean.”

Hannah was still tongue-tied. Her eyes blinked several times in succession but the image didn’t change. “Take off your hat and glasses.”

Samantha obliged. “Voilà! It’s the real me again.”

“Wow. That’s one incredible transformation. I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.” Hannah shook her head. “So, who are you while you’re staying in Cottage Three, and if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your job?”

“Samantha Featherstone, of course. “I’ll keep Sam Stone hidden until I need his expertise.” She wagged her finger at Hannah and Jack. “And don’t blow my cover.

“Not me,” Hannah promised.

“My lips are sealed.” Jack zipped his lips closed.

Samantha made herself comfy in the chair by the window with her legs crossed and her fingers tapping on the wooden arm. “As for the second part of your question, all I can say is that I came out of retirement to find Sally White. So, fill me in on what you know about her disappearance.”

Hannah rested against the big old desk. She pulled on her long braid while she thought about what she’d heard. “Not much. Her parents are staying in the cottage next to this one. You’ll be next to them on the far side.”

“Why are they staying here instead of their own home?” Samantha scrunched her brow.

“All the media are camped out at their house. No one knows they’re here. Yet,” Jack explained.

“Except that annoying writer staying in Cottage Four.” Hannah chewed on her thumbnail.

“Don’t tell me it’s Sean Payne,” Samantha said with disgust lacing her tone.

“Yeah, you know him?”

Samantha stood up. “I’ve read his articles and heard he’s writing about missing kids. He’s not someone I have a relationship with for getting information. He’s a crafty one; likes to ask the questions and keep what he knows to himself. Definitely an odd guy. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.” She laughed. “And, even with this five foot two inches and a hundred and two pounds of fighting spirit, my throwing distance isn’t what it used to be, my dear.”

Hannah decided she didn’t want to test Samantha’s fighting ability since she suspected it just might be a bit better than she let on. “How about you get settled into your cottage and we can discuss what we know later; after the snack bar closes for the day.” Hannah twirled the cottage key in her fingers, letting the seashell keychain swing back and forth. “If I don’t get back to help Meg, I’ll never hear the end of her complaining.”

Samantha followed Hannah out the door. “It doesn’t sound like Meg has changed at all. But you won’t find a harder worker or more loyal employee than Meg. She and your Great Aunt Caroline were like this.”

Hannah turned around to find Samantha’s fingers tightly entwined.

“And she’s smart as a whip when it comes to knowing the people in this town. You’d better treat her right and keep her on your side, Hannah.”

Once inside the cottage, Samantha threw her bag on the bed and looked around. She nodded her approval. “Nice. I like the fresh flowers. Caroline never added that kind of touch. Bare bones was her motto.” She sniffed the flowers. “Ahh, peonies, one of my favorites.”

“Thanks. After you’re settled, how does a fish dinner sound?” Hannah asked.

Samantha stuck out her lower lip. “I’m thinking I need to head into town. Look around. Listen to the chatter. You know, as myself.”

“Actually,” Hannah said, “I need to check out the new seafood restaurant, The Chowder House. The owner seems to think his fried fish platter is better than what I’m serving at The Fishy Dish. I’m planning to head over to see if I have anything to worry about.”

A grin crept across Samantha’s face. “Perfect. It sounds like you might have a bit of a sleuthing personality, too, my dear. I’d love to join you.”

Hannah was surprised at how special that comment made her feel in Samantha’s eyes.

Until she returned to the snack bar.

Meg glared at her. “I can’t run this place by myself, you know,
my dear
,” she added sarcastically. “Look at the line. And that annoying guest staying in Cottage Four? What rock did he crawl out from underneath? He returned the clam chowder; said it was too hot. Does he think he’s Goldilocks and we’re running an Inn for the three bears?”

Hannah sighed and tied a blue apron covered with red lobsters around her waist.

She had to figure out how to get her sister Ruby back on board helping in the snack bar. But with Olivia finished with kindergarten and out of school for the summer, it was going to be a juggling act. Doable if Jack could keep an eye on the office
and
on Olivia. Maybe.

Platters of fried fish, bowls of steamy clam chowder, and mountains of french fries flew through the snack bar window. By the time the lunch crowd was satisfied and the takeout orders were picked up, Hannah sat on one of the snack bar stools to enjoy half of a lobster roll and a few fries.

“I expected you to have a fried fish platter,” Meg said with her eyebrows arched upwards.

“I do have a craving for that but I’m treating all of you to The Chowder House fish platter tonight.” She wiped a drip of ketchup off her chin.

“What?!” Meg’s eyes popped open wider than one of her crab cakes.

“Samantha’s coming with us, too. We have to check out the competition.” She used a french fry to soak up the last of Meg’s homemade ketchup.

“Oh.” Meg nodded. “Good plan.”

“We’ll get this place organized for tomorrow and see what Mr. Gavin Abbott and his French chef have up their sleeves. I can’t imagine what they think they have that’s even
close
to our delicious fried fish platter. They were flying out of here today.” Hannah cocked her head. “Are you up for the challenge?”

“Is that a joke? I’ll be ready in an hour.”

Chapter 4

Hannah and Samantha slid into the back bench seat of Meg’s puke-green pickup truck.

“Ouch!” Hannah yelped.

Meg glanced in the rearview mirror. “Did that spring get you?”

“This truck is one backfire away from the car parts yard,” she answered as she slid off the pokey spring and rubbed her butt.

“Quit your complaining. If you didn’t baby that ancient Volvo station wagon by barely driving it, you could chauffer
us
around,” Jack suggested from the front seat.

“So,” Samantha balanced on the edge of the seat with her hands resting behind Jack’s head on the back of the passenger seat, “let’s move this conversation in a more important direction. Who should I focus on to find out more about Sally White?”

“Her father for starters,” Hannah said. “I’m not saying he had anything to do with Sally’s disappearance, but if you dig into his background, you might discover some other leads.”

Meg looked in the rearview mirror at Samantha. “Didn’t your client give you some ideas about where to start looking?”

“Oh sure, but I want to hear what the chit chat is that’s going around town,” Samantha replied.

Meg turned her truck into the almost full parking lot of The Chowder House. “I agree with Hannah. Start with her dad.” With that comment, she stopped; her truck backfired, sputtered, and stalled.

Meg cursed.

Jack snickered.

Hannah pressed her lips tightly together. She didn’t dare say,
I told you so
.

Samantha sighed. “Why did I let you talk me into coming in this,” she paused, “heap?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll hitch a ride from someone. Let’s go inside and see what Gavin is serving,” Jack responded. “My stomach is growling.”

“Serving besides insults?” Hannah muttered, remembering her earlier conversation on the pier with the owner of The Chowder House.

Samantha patted her back and leaned close to her ear. “We’re sleuthing, my dear. Don’t let this guy get under your skin.”

The Chowder House was bustling. The hostess ushered them to a corner booth, handed out menus, and said Heather, their waitress, would be right with them before she hustled away to help the next customers waiting to be seated

Samantha and Hannah sat with their backs to the wall. They both could easily see most of the other diners without too much craning of their necks.

“We got the best seat in the house for people watching,” Samantha noted. Her eyes scanned the dining room.

Meg picked up the drinks menu. “This is an impressive list, but I’ll stick with my favorite, a Sam Adams.” She twisted around to get a better view of the room. “Isn’t that Matt and Leah White over on the far side?” she whispered.

Hannah nodded.

Samantha’s eyes followed to where Hannah was looking. “He’s biting his nails. Something is making him nervous.”

“For crying out loud, Sam, his daughter is missing. Of course
something
is upsetting him,” Jack pointed out.

Samantha shushed Jack. “Don’t call me Sam unless I’m playing that role. I don’t want my cover to get blown before I’ve even started this investigation.”

Hannah jabbed Samantha’s side. “The opposite corner. Sean Payne. All by himself, engrossed on his tablet.”

“He’s only pretending with that tablet. He’s keeping his eyes on the Whites.”

The waitress stopped at the table. “Ready to order?” she asked in an over-the-top-perky voice.

Meg ordered a draft for everyone whether they wanted it or not.

“And water,” Hannah added. “And we’re all having the fried fish platter.”

Heather nodded as she jotted down the orders. “Great choice. Fresh caught haddock dipped in a beer batter. Crispy on the outside, moist and tender on the inside. And the tastiest tartar sauce I’ve ever had.” She leaned over the table. “You know what Chef Belair’s secret ingredient is?”

That got Meg’s attention. Knowing his recipe would give her a leg up making the Fishy Dish’s tartar sauce even better.

“Lemon,” Heather said as she raised her eyebrows. “Genius, huh?”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Not much of a secret about
that
.”

“Chef Belair’s fish platter is the best around,” Heather added.

“Ha. We’ll see about that,” Meg mumbled.

As soon as that comment left Meg’s lips, the chef, dressed in his white apron and hat, marched through the swinging doors that led from the kitchen. His eyes searched the room before the hostess led him to the Whites’ table.

“You have a complaint, Sir?
I
am the
Chef
.” He pointed to his chest. “
Nico Belair
,” he shouted in his French accent. His voice filled the room.

Silence fell like a thick drape over the diners.

All eyes turned toward the commotion.

Matt White stood up quickly, knocking his chair over backwards with the force of his movement.

The crash echoed through the dining room like a gunshot. Hannah’s heart skipped a beat and she ducked before her brain had time to process what caused the explosive noise.

Leah White’s hand shot out but it missed her husband’s arm.

“Yeah. Your fried fish
sucks
.” Matt stared at Nico. His face flushed. “This whole restaurant
sucks
.”

He threw his linen napkin on the table.

Hannah wondered if it was a challenge to some sort of duel.

Matt walked passed Nico, letting his shoulder bump the chef, almost knocking him off his feet. “Your boss is worse than pond scum.”