Death of a Hot Chick (4 page)

And more questions, until Kaye said, “Now I
have the complete picture, an important factor in any
investigation.”

I snorted and headed back to
Snapdragon
. Kaye followed, talking
all the way, which is why I wasn’t watching and nearly ran into
Wes.

He stood on my finger pier and he didn’t
look happy. “Hey, Cyd, what are you doing with a gangster’s
boat?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
I’ve been checking, what with me
signing that paper, and the gal getting murdered here. Boat belongs
to Pop.”

“
Pop?” Kaye at my shoulder, asked.
“Who is Pop?”

“
No,” I said. “
Snapdragon
belonged to Nicole. That’s what you
witnessed, the title. It was hers and she added my name, so we both
owned it. That makes it mine now.”

“
You own the boat?” Kaye asked. “And,
who
is
Pop?”

“
He’s a crook. He’s in jail,” Wes
said. “Why do you suppose that gal had to bring his boat here?
Bayside Marina didn’t want her, and I don’t either. She’s gotta
go.”

I charged into the boat, ignoring Kaye as
she said, “Did you know this?” I lifted the silverware tray, moved
my emergency stash of twelve dollars, and grabbed the title. I
returned, and waved the paper in front of Wes’s nose.

“
Here’s the title. Chester somebody.
Chester Foltz signed it over to Nicole Joline. See?”

“
Chester’s some kind of relative. Just
a paperwork deal. That boat belongs to Pop and he won’t be happy to
see you on her. And I sure won’t be happy to have more trouble at
Smith Harbor Marina. With him, or anybody.”

Yeah, Wes had a reputation to keep up. “How
can someone sign a boat away and still own it? That’s not
true!”

Kaye, the detecting peacekeeper, held up her
hand. “Time out. Mr.... Your name is Wes, isn’t it?” He snapped
around quickly, as if she’d appeared out of nowhere. “Wes, I
understand your concern. Your perception is that this Pop
individual will come here from jail and kill someone else. Is that
right?”

“
Heh! A guy like that? He’d do
anything he damn pleases.”

“
He does not own this boat,” I
shouted, trying to be heard. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Wes glared at me. “Pop gets out of jail July
thirty-first. The slip fee is paid up to the end of July. Today is
July twentieth. Figure it out. I’m not renewing the contract.”

Chapter 3

After Wes dropped his bomb shell he left
before I caught my breath. When I did, I groaned. “I suppose
Granny’s boat slips are full. So, what do I do now?”

“
That’s a rhetorical question, I
assume,” Kaye said. “You realize this puts a new light on the
investigation. Do the police know this? And what is that paper you
showed Wes? The title? Why do you have the title?”

“
Nicole gave it to me.” Which
was—maybe not completely true. But she did tell me to take from her
pocket. More or less.

“
You say it’s your boat?” Kaye took
the title. She stared at it for several moments. “The paper is
damp, wrinkled, and a bit smudged, but I can definitely read it.
Boat owner: Nicole Joline or Cyd Denlinger. There might be some
legal ramifications, but you may be right.”

My scrub brush and bucket waited for me on
top of the boat cabin. “I’m cleaning. Are you helping?”

Kaye stared at the title. I’d already pored
over each line and knew every word. But what could I do except
listen to her? She said, “Chester Foltz signed the boat over to
Nicole, but there’s another name first. Not Pop, but that is
undoubtedly a nickname, and hardly one to raise such angst.
Certainly it denotes familial felicity.”

“
Oh, come off it. Forget you’re a
professor for once.”

“
Arthur Estep. That’s the name of the
original owner.”

“
I’m the owner now. I’m working on my
boat, and looking for a job. That’s it.”

Kaye muttered, “Dated, signed, witnessed.”
She was quiet way too long. Finally, she said, “You do realize this
title makes you a suspect.”

“
But I.... You don’t....”

“
A suspect to the police, you ninny.
Not to your sister. But it also means you have an excellent reason
to work with me in finding Nicole’s killer. So, what else can you
tell me?”

Blackmail. Her ever-loving kid tricks. Using
an accusation to rope me into helping her.

Kaye started with an easy question. “Let’s
talk about her boat. Do you know how Nicole got the boat?”

I gave up. She’d won. “Bought it? Maybe
that’s where all her money went.”

“
No, she loaned money to some person
but insisted he sign over his boat as collateral.”

“
The Chester guy? And he didn’t repay
the money.”

“
Right,” Kaye said. She knew she had
me. “Now, what did you say about her not having money?”

“
Okay, here’s the thing. She was broke
last night. Officer Yarnell doesn’t believe me, but she gave me the
last twenty-two dollars in her pocket and went to get thirty more
to pay for supplies.”

“
No, that’s not a good story. You’ll
have me suspecting you. Now, what did she really say?”

“
Hey, it’s not a story. She was going
to pay me zip. She asked me to bill her. She said, ‘I’m highly
leveraged at the moment,’ which to me, means broke.”

“
Actually, it means
borrowing....”

“
Yeah, yeah. I’m not completely
stupid.”

“
We must assume that was a delaying
tactic,” Kaye said. “She probably needed to cash a check. Banks
aren’t open that late.” I opened my mouth, but she waved me off.
“Okay, ATM’s are open. Even so, consider the possibility that her
funds were in CDs with a penalty for early payout. Or stocks and
bonds with her broker, whom, I might add, would certainly not be
available to transfer funds late at night.”

“
Highly leveraged means broke. Just
saying.” I grabbed my title. “And I’m putting this
away.”

Kaye followed me inside the boat. She
cleared her throat a couple of times before she said, “Nicole had
mentioned buying up controlling stock in her father’s foundation.
Would that break her?”

“
You’re asking
me
?”

“
Even if she were completely out of
funds, I don’t think you should mention it. No one will believe
you. Not when you’re speaking of the Joline family, and Nicole in
particular.”

Since I really didn’t want anyone, not even
my sister, to know my secret hiding place, I grabbed a book and
shoved the title inside before I turned. “For instance, you don’t
believe me, do you?”

Kaye’s face went through the full range of
emotions. Did she believe me? Was she wondering how badly I wanted
my own boat after Al....

The quick pang surprised me. I had to
think it through. Somehow my boat
Honey
had burned to the waterline with Al inside.
Think of him running away, maybe with that woman and the money that
disappeared at the same time. Think of that, not that he took my
boat, not away from me.

Why couldn’t I find out what
really
happened! Too many gossips who
only hint. Too many police who have facts that make no sense all.
And too long...way too long to hope.

“
Of course I believe you,” Kaye
said.

Then, why did she look at me like I was at
the wrong end of a telescope? “Thanks for that rousing
endorsement.”

~
~

Evening

Brandon Bates followed me into the
room where our Captain’s class was held. For me it was all review,
but there were a few positives. Brandon wasn’t one of
them
.
He looked like a
gangsta wannabe with his oversized jeans and grungy T-shirt that
didn’t quite match his stock-broker haircut. Although he did more
talking than listening, he often asked intelligent questions. For
some reason he avoided his usual seat beside the class beauty and
sat next to me.

“
Yo.”

I glanced at him. He did seem to be talking
to me. I smiled then turned away. He kept talking.

“
You’re the one who found that body,
right?”

“
Yes.” Ah, the mystery solved. He was
looking for inside information. Gossip. I was not into dishing. I
opened the slim book that came with the course and turned pages
without looking up. Would he get the hint?

“
That’s her boat you’re living on,
right?”

So, he was oblivious to hints. I flicked my
best evil eye imitation in his direction, then turned back to the
book.

“
Well, it is, isn’t it? I guess you
have nowhere to go now.”

I kept turning pages.

“
Guess you were fixing it up, right? I
could help, you know.”

“
What’s with this third degree?” I
asked. “Nicole’s body isn’t even cold yet. I really don’t want to
discuss it.”

Brandon didn’t give up, but he switched
tactics. “If you’re looking for tonight’s chapter, you’re in the
wrong place. Page thirty-five.”

Fortunately, Ike, our instructor came in. I
turned to page thirty-five, ignored any chuckles coming my way,
opened my notebook, and clicked the ball point pen in and out,
waiting to hear the usual opening.

Instead, Ike said, “Come in, Finley.”

Finley
? I knew
a Finley once. Could it be the same one? Yep, it was! She entered,
striding like a muscle-bound football player. She could wrestle
nearly any man to the ground—and had in the past. That was Finley
Swent, all six feet of her.

“
Class, we have a treat,” Ike said, “a
real working captain to share her experiences.”

Without planning it, I jumped up and
charged. “Finley!” I yelled.

She did a double take, then boomed, “Cyd? My
god, what are you doing here? Hey, I thought this was a beginners’
class.” She bopped her fist toward me and we did our “bloody
knuckles” version of a high five.

“
Ouch, I forgot how much that hurts.
What’s it been? Four years?”

“
Easily. But, what... by god, didn’t
you keep up your license?” She scowled. “And why not?”

I could say something like, “Not everybody
lives for boats,” but that wouldn’t work with my old friend. We’d
lost touch, sure, but once we were two of a kind. “Long story.
Dropped out to be the loving missus, which didn’t work out.”

“
I heard. Sorry that he
died.”

The wave of grief hit unexpectedly. Anger. I
had to remember the anger. “Be sorry he destroyed my sailboat,” I
answered, then added with more determination, “Be glad he’s
gone.”

Ike banged his book on the desk. He
bellowed, “Is old-home-week over?”

“
After?” I said and scooted back to my
desk. Anger almost worked.

But Finley, no longer paying attention,
turned toward Ike. “Hey, Buster,” she said. “Lighten up, okay?”
Then she turned to the room full of assorted adults, some
snickering like second graders, some poring over the class book,
some completely unaware of any conversations other than their own.
“Okay, you want to see a real commercial boat captain? You get two
for the price of one here. Cyd and I started together, and she
wants to get back in. Hey, that’s inspiration for you.”

That was Finley. Embarrass the hell out of
you. I shook my head and caught Finley’s wink. She knew perfectly
well what she’d done. And, she’d planned it—not for months, but at
least for seconds. I tossed a “go ahead” motion, urging her to get
on with something else. And, as Ike continued his anti-climatic
introduction, I realized that I’d slipped right into the
camaraderie, and the language, of our old relationship.

Finley strutted her stuff with the short,
inspiring version of her success, starting from the Six-Pack
captain’s license and fishing charters all the way to her
two-hundred-ton license. She didn’t mention the bumps the size of
Mt. Everest that she ran into along the way. Before she left she
stopped by my seat.

“
Hear you’re living on a boat in Smith
Harbor Marina. I’ll stop by, okay?”

“
You bet.” When I first got my ticket,
the woman with the unlikely name of Finley Swent had gotten her
captain’s license as well. She’d stayed with it, then moved up to
large commercial vessels. We were best buddies for a while, until
Al returned to Smith Harbor and separated me from the boating life.
Yes, we’d get together!

“
What’s your phone number?” I asked.
“I’ll call you.”

~
~

Unfortunately, Brandon waited for me after
class and fell in step.

“
How about we stop for a beer?” he
said.

There were several reasons that was not
going to happen, not the least of which was that Brandon was too
much like Al. Or, what I belatedly suspected about Al. All flash,
no roots. “How about you stop for a beer and I’ll go do what I
intended to do.”

“
I could help you instead. Or you
could help me. You sure don’t need to study, right?”

“
Like I said, I’ve got things to do.
Alone.” How could I get him off my back? Tell the truth, of course.
“Brandon, I’m taking a break from any social arrangements for a
very long time.” After Al, I didn’t want to trust another man,
maybe forever. At least, not as in, love, honor, and
you-know-what.