Chapter 8

“I smell coffee.” Jack was dressed in scuzzy clothes the next morning as he took a seat at my kitchen table.

“You do. Would you like a cup? And you need to wash those clothes. They’re covered in greebies.”

“Absolutely I’d like a cup. I’m wearing these old clothes again because the sealant on the garage should be set by now. I’m planning to paint today, and I don’t want to mess up my good clothes. I’ll wash these when I’m through with the job. I want the garage solid and weatherproofed before Gillian and I have to go back home. I thought she and I could take the car for a spin down the coast road to see if it’s roadworthy. If so, I want to start the paperwork to get her registered as an historic car with license and insurance.”

A disembodied cough echoed through the kitchen.

Jack looked up and ducked slightly.

Doris materialized on the counter. “You and Gillian are going for a drive?” She stared Jack down.

Jack looked away. “Morning, Doris. Would you like to join us? Given your ghostly limitations, I’m sure Thor wouldn’t mind if you inhabited his body. I’d rather have ‘Thoris’ in the car instead of a random squirrel.”

Doris crossed her legs and swung them, all smiles now. “Thanks. Love to!”

I suppressed a smile. “Don’t hit anything before she’s street legal.” I put a mug of coffee in front of him. “I’m guessing you’re going to have to prove you didn’t steal the car given that you don’t have a bill of sale. Can you even get insurance without title?”

“Don’t worry. George is helping me. We’ll have paperwork for you to sign so that I do have a bill of sale when I file. He wants a ride when she’s legal.” He smiled at Doris. “You can come for that one, too.”

“Maybe you can get something out of him in exchange.” I hinted.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t getting him to hang out over here count?”

I kissed him on the top of his head, and he made a face.

Gillian joined us, yawning. “The sea air really makes me sleep soundly.” She stretched. “Morning, Doris.”

“You’re not that far from the water in Berkeley.”

“We’re not this close. Can I help with breakfast?”

“No, it’s all done. Crepes. I have no imagination, but they have eggs in them.” I set jam, fresh strawberries, powdered sugar, butter, and syrup in front of them. Then I slipped a couple of crepes on each plate and put the plates in front of them. “I have no buckwheat flour to make savory ham and cheese. Sorry. Next time.”

But Jack was already pouring syrup when there was a knock at the door.

I made a face at Jack. “Not Dave and Niles again!”

He looked out the back door. “Nope.”

The knock sounded again at the front door, so I went to answer it. “C’mon in.”

Doris vanished.

“Can’t. We’ve got class. The dean approved our proposal but with a twist. They want augmented reality.”

My confusion must have shown on my face because Mia smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry. We’ve got this. It’s actually better and more fun and will show off our skills. We’ll talk to you later.”

“But—”

“We’ve got this.” Ricardo repeated and they waved as they headed for Ricardo’s car.

Still puzzled, I closed the door and went back to the kitchen. “We’re using augmented reality.”

“Cool,” Jack said through a mouthful.

“You know what that is?”

“Of course.”

We finished breakfast, cleaned up, and headed out to check my yard to make sure we’d gotten all the decorations cleaned up. Jack peeled off and went to the garage.

“Gillian, Dave said they still haven’t heard from the accountant. I’m thinking of running up to the Moon Coast Inn. Want to come?”

She pursed her lips. “Let me see. Ride up the coast versus cleaning. Hmm. What do you think?”

I chuckled. “It’s not that far up the coast, and we’ll still have to clean and cook when we get back.”

“Let’s go!”

We stopped at the garage to let Jack know and drove up the coast a couple of miles. I pulled into the parking area behind the Inn.

As we walked to the front, Gillian paused looking around. “What a view! Every time I see a place like this, perched high on rocks with the ocean crashing below, all wood and window, I want to own a B&B.”

I stopped next to her, looking out at the waves rolling in. “Not all B&Bs are like this. Some are farmhouses. Some are stately Victorians.”

Gillian threw her arms wide. “One like this. Modern. Big porch. Huge windows.”

“It’s a lot of work.”

“I know. You’re a maid and a cook.” She sighed. “But still…”

A voice behind us said, “But you get to meet and chat with some very interesting people.”

We turned. Natalie Sandoval sat in a rocking chair on the porch. She wore a turquoise sweater that contrasted with her short, white hair.

I hastened to say, “We’re not here for a room.”

The corners of her sea-blue eyes crinkled. “I know, Cass. I expect you’re all moved in by now.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.” I walked up the stairs to the porch, followed by Gillian.

“How could I forget you? You were so stressed when you stayed here before your place was ready. Is this your sister?”

“Sister-in-law. Gillian, this is Natalie. Natalie, Gillian.”

“Pleased to meet you, Gillian. Have a seat.” Natalie nodded. “I saw your house on the news. Needs paint.”

I opened my mouth to protest and then saw the twinkle in her eye. “Point taken. When I have more money.”

We sat in two of the rockers. I rocked for a moment, trying to figure out how to broach the subject of Amelia’s murder. “Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?”

“I’m guessing it’s not about room rates or running an inn.” She smiled.

“Do you have someone named Gerry Waverley staying here?”

Natalie smiled. “You know I wouldn’t normally answer that question, but Mr. Waverley appears to have vacated the room early. The police have already been here, and I’ve been watching the news.” She stood. “Let’s go inside and have some tea. My shipment arrived today. Have you tried the white jasmine? It’s delicious.”

We followed her inside and sat in the parlor. She brought out a pot of tea and cups. “It needs to steep for a few minutes.” She put one hand over the other. “My usual minimum is three nights.”

I snapped up a cookie. “I remember you let me stay less than that.”

“You were a special case.” Natalie poured the fragrant tea. “Mr. Waverley’s boss Amelia Stone stopped by and paid for the same room you had, and I left a late check-in packet in the mailbox for Mr. Waverley. Not unusual. I do it all the time.”

“So you met her but didn’t see him?” Gillian took a cookie.

Natalie shook her head. “The packet was gone in the morning. He didn’t come down to breakfast, but that isn’t strange.” She poured Gillian a cup of tea.

“How did you know he’d gone?” I sipped my tea.

“He’d left a Do Not Disturb sign on his door, so the chambermaid left his room for last. Finally, she listened at the door. When she didn’t hear anything, she came and got me. I knocked on the door and then used my key to enter. He was gone. Given that no one saw him, he had to have left in the wee hours.”

“I don’t remember you having any security cameras.”

She pursued her lips. “Still don’t. I was debating what to do when the police came and informed me of Amelia Stone’s death and asked what room Mr. Waverley was occupying. They were surprised when I told them about his vanishing act. I asked them to return the keys if they found them, but I’ll have another set made. I’m afraid there’s nothing to see here.”

“Did they tell you anything?” I set my empty cup back in the saucer.

She hesitated. “Not really.”

“But?” I prompted.

“But Amelia was talkative while she was here.”

I bit my tongue and kept quiet.

Natalie leaned forward in her chair. “She said she was here to talk to her boys.”

Gillian nodded. “Dave and Niles.”

“Yes.” Natalie poured herself a cup. She added cream and sugar to hers.

I moved around in my seat. “And?”

“She seemed worried. She said there were irregularities in some account, a trust, I think.” She sipped and added a touch more cream. “Someone had taken some money. Maybe one of the boys. She was upset and seemed disappointed. She was also worried about one of the boy’s debts.”

“Dave?”

“Hmm.” She frowned. “No, the other one. Niles. She said he had a mountain of debt.”

I finally took a cookie. “Did she say anything else? More specific?”

Natalie shook her head. “I got the impression she was here to make adjustments between the two of them and finding the account irregularities was a shock because now she couldn’t take care of both of them. Only one. She clearly loved them both. She talked about the mischief they got into together when they were young. One of them was more carefree.”

“Dave.”

“One was more serious.”

“Niles.”

“She said they were night and day. Her murder upset me. She seemed very kind and loving. A good aunt and a genuinely nice person.”

Gillian drained her cup. “Not your typical murder victim.”

Natalie peered into the pot. “Unless it was a random act of violence.”

“It would almost have to be because she only came here occasionally to see Dave. Few people would have a motive to kill her, and even fewer knew she’d be here at this specific time.” I stared at the earth-toned landscape on the wall behind the sofa. “That really narrows the field to Dave and Niles because Darius didn’t know she’d be here.”

Natalie warmed up Gillian’s cup with a bit more tea. “Darius? I think she mentioned him.”

“Her ex-husband.”

She nodded. “I did see him on the news. They questioned him. I think she was going to meet with him.” Natalie’s brow creased. “But her demeanour wasn’t that of a woman about to meet a lover. He seemed ill-suited to her.”

“Really? We met him. I thought he was sweet.”

She jerked her head back and then relaxed. “Well, you met him, and I only saw his picture on TV. Not to be unkind, but he appeared weaselly to me.”

That surprised me. “We didn’t think she knew he was here. Darius collapsed when he heard she was dead. I think he loved her very much, but you’re right, he’s not exactly the passionate lover type.”

“Are you sure he didn’t know she was coming?” She lifted the pot.

I put my hand over my cup. “Thanks, but we have to get back. Company for dinner, and I’m cooking.” But I mulled over her words.

She set the pot down. “I’m glad you stopped by. It was nice to see you again. Come back any time.” She smiled at Gillian. “I’d be happy to fill you in on innkeeping if you’re interested.”

Gillian cast one last glance around the spacious room. “Thanks. You have a lovely place here. The clean lines of the furniture and the nature hues of the fabrics are very much to my taste.” She ran her hand over the nubby marine blue material of the couch.

“Thanks. I enjoyed every moment of decorating this place.” She leaned toward us conspiratorially. “I knew I’d be spending a great deal of time in this room.”

We waved goodbye as we crunched on the gravel.

Driving home, Gillian said, “I’ll bet courthouses are haunted.”

“What brought that on?”

“The emotions.” She shook her head and looked out to sea. “The cases in court are often life and death. Murder.”

I pulled into my yard. “A lot of cases that go to court are really boring. C’mon, we should clean up a bit, but it’s not like I have to impress George or anything.”

Gillian laughed. “No, why ever would you want to do that?”

But she helped me as we spent the afternoon stowing Halloween decorations up in the loft under the eaves, shopping for supplies for dinner, cooking, and cleaning. Amazing how much sand gets tracked in so close to the beach. The sun was lowering on the horizon when George pulled up in front of my place. As I heard the car door slam, I peeked out the back door to check for lights at Dave’s place. Nothing, but I didn’t have time to give it much thought. I was at the door when George knocked.

The first thing I saw was the bouquet. “They’re beautiful!” I took the large bunch of asters, lilies, and mums from him. “I’ll put them in water.” I went to the kitchen, set them on the counter by the sink, and pulled out a tall crystal vase.

“I’ll take that.” Gillian hung George’s coat on the Arts and Crafts hall tree. “Would you like something to drink? I have water, tea, coffee, beer, wine sweet and dry, and if you trust me, I can give mixed drinks a shot.”

“A beer would hit the spot.” George followed me into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

I thumbed through a guide to flowers I’d bought at the pet store. “I’m checking to make sure none of these is poisonous to cats.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. Can you put the vase up high?”

I set aside the guide. “I can do that. I don’t want dinner to get cold.” I cut the ends off the orange and gold flowers and set the vase on the mantel.

Jack handed George a beer and got one for himself.

“Dinner smells delicious.” George smiled.

“I hope it’s as good as it smells.” I went back into the kitchen and carried out a tray of crudités and dip and a platter of bacon-wrapped scallops and set them on the coffee table. “Starters.”

Gillian followed with crackers, cheese, and mixed olives and cippolini onions.

Thor roused himself from his rug by the fireplace and stretched, arching his back. He advanced toward the scallops, and I shooed him away.

“He keeps me on my toes.”

George reached down and rubbed Thor’s ears until he purred. “He’s certainly a beautiful cat.”

“Thanks,” Jack said. “He used to be mine. Had to give him up. He’s a bit too large to hide. He’s a bit of a chowhound. Wait until Cass serves the crawfish étouffeé. We may have to lock him in the bedroom.”

“I’ll put down some tuna juice. That should keep him occupied for a while. In the meantime, dinner’s ready.”

“What’s this one?” Jack lifted the lid of a casserole.

“That’s dirty rice with mini-chops. That little bowl is full of chopped scallions. And this one,” I opened a second casserole, “is vegetarian red beans and rice. There’s also a mixed salad with a small bowl of shredded cheeses on the side. I also have cornbread and lemonade. And any beer works with this cuisine, too. If you couldn’t tell, I have a new cookbook.” I glared at Jack. “I’m trying to live down the mistaken belief that women in my family don’t cook.”

“Beer works for me.” Jack didn’t meet my gaze as he moved around the table and took a chair.

“Do you need help with anything?” George asked.

I shook my head. “It’s all ready. Find a seat.” I pulled out a chair, and George took the one next to me.

Gillian moved across the table next to Jack. I poured a glass of lemonade and passed the pitcher to her.

Gillian put her napkin on her lap, helped herself to a nice portion of étouffeé, and passed it. She took a bite and then made a small, happy sound. “This is so good.”

“I enjoy cooking.” I glared at Jack again. “It’s really a case of being a plain cook and living alone. I don’t usually pull together elaborate meals.”

“Not even when you were married?” George took a piece of cornbread and didn’t look at me.

I flashed back to my old life in Pleasanton for a moment. “I had important meals catered. Phil barbequed. Oldest trick in the book. Buy a man an elaborate grill and convince him that barbecue isn’t really cooking, that it’s a guy thing.”

“Hey, some men cook,” Jack protested. “Chefs.”

“The days of only recognizing men as chefs is long gone.” George passed the cornbread. “I’m pretty good at it, too. You should try my lumpia. I’ll invite you all to my place for a reciprocal dinner. It’ll be small and intimate because my tiny apartment is small and intimate.”

“I remember when you made lumpia in college. I recently bought some from a street vendor in San Francisco, but they weren’t like yours. They were hard like taquitos and didn’t contain any vegetables. Yours were softer with shrimp and veggies inside.”

“I’m glad you remember them so well. Remember the Kalua baboy?”

“Of course. I loved the crispy bits best.”

“Baboy?” Jack helped himself to more étouffeé.

“Pig. Roasted for hours. Best done in an open pit, but you can also do it in an oven.” He tilted his head and looked into the distance. “I suppose you could also do it in an instant pot, but I like slow roasting myself. Sets the flavor.” He scooped up the last of his red beans and rice, wiped his mouth, and set his napkin down beside his plate.

“Dessert?” Gillian whipped the foil off the beignets and passed the plate.

I grabbed one and set it on my dessert plate. “Who wants coffee?” I stood and carried a few plates into the kitchen, put the coffee on, and took down some of the porcelain company cups.

Gillian set a few plates in the sink. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to ask George what’s going on with the murder.”

“I was a bit surprised you didn’t ask him outright while we were eating, but now’s your chance. He really seems to like the beignet. Go. I’ll bring the coffee out.”

I returned to the table.

“Coffee?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Gillian’s bringing it. George, Gillian and I were up at the Moon Coast Inn today. Is it true that Amelia planned to meet up with Darius?”

He sighed. “I really wish you’d quit playing Nancy Drew and leave it to the pros.”

“Hunh uh. You’re not getting away with changing the subject.” I said. “No way.”

“We also know that you know more than you tell reporters.” Jack took his cup from Gillian. “Thanks. We saw you on TV.”

She set a cup next to George and one by me before tucking her skirt under her and sitting down. “So you think Darius did it?”

Jack got up to fetch his laptop.

George stared after him. “Was it something I said?”

“Jack handles data in spreadsheets, so he’s going to input the data you’re going to give us,” I said.

Wiping his hands on his napkin, George chuckled. “So I’m giving you data?”

Jack opened his laptop and then the spreadsheet. “Of course. What did you find at the crime scene?”

“Other than the body?” George seemed more amused than annoyed.

“Uh. Yes.” Jack looked up.

“Maybe you should start with a list of suspects.” George sipped his coffee. “Let’s see. Means. Motive. Opportunity. Stuff like that.”

“Are you laughing at us?” I moved the plate of beignets out of his reach.

Jack leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

George raised his hands in front of him in a gesture of surrender. “No, no. Not laughing at you. You’re so transparent. Don’t ever pursue careers as spies.” He laughed and shook his head. “Okay. I give up. What do you want to know?”

Jack hesitated and looked at me. I nodded. He opened a new spreadsheet and typed headers. “How was she murdered?”

“Her throat was slit, and we recently released the information that she was also bludgeoned. We have the scuba diving knife. She was hit with the hilt, and the blade slashed her throat.”

I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip. “Does Darius go scuba diving? Doesn’t seem like the type.”

“There is no type for scuba diving. I used to watch the tourists in Hawaii when I was a kid.” He paused. “But you’re right. The knife belongs to Dave.”

While I knew Dave and Niles must be suspects, it was a shock to hear that the murder weapon belonged to Dave.

Jack’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, and he looked at George, his eyes wide. “Seriously?”

George waved his hand at him. “Go on. Type it in. We’re releasing that info today.”

Jack did as he was told and looked back up at George, voicing my own thought. “Dave’s a suspect, too, or instead of Darius?”

“The body didn’t appear to have been transported very far although there were some possible drag marks.”

“So she wasn’t killed on my beach?” That was a relief.

I jumped when Gillian poured some more wine in my glass and whispered, “Thought you could use this.”

I looked down at the blood-red wine. “There was no blood on the beach. Was the body exsanguinated?”

George smiled, which made me slightly nervous. Usually, getting information from him was like shaving a cat, and I didn’t want to jinx it by asking why he was cooperating with us.

“We’re waiting for the pharmacology, but her throat was slashed post-mortem. No blood on the beach.”

“Do you know where she was murdered?”

“Not yet.”

Jack typed furiously.

“Wait a minute. What killed her?” I asked. “The beating?”

Gillian asked, “Do you know where she was killed?”

I looked at Gillian. “Not at the Moon Coast Inn?”

George shook his head. “No.”

“Dave’s?” My voice quavered. I so didn’t want it to be true.

“Possibly. He does live nearby.”

Jack paused. “I’m adding a column for the scene of the crime.”

George smiled wickedly at me. “And you live nearby.”

“You don’t think—” I sputtered but realized he was teasing me.

“Would you care to elaborate on the suspects?” Gillian pushed the beignets toward George.

“I think you already have a pretty good idea who’s on our list.” George grabbed a beignet before she could snatch them away again.

Jack spoke the names out loud as he typed them in. “Dave. Niles. Darius. Unknown. Does that about cover it?”

“More or less.” George licked the powdered sugar off his fingers before wiping his hands.

“Time of death?”

“Between 10 pm and 2 am.”

“That’s a pretty big range.” Jack typed it in.

George nodded. “We’ll narrow it down as we go.”

I sipped my wine. “We know she’d gone up to San Francisco. She met people involved with trust business. Was she killed there?”

George smirked. “Really long drag marks.”

“You won’t tell us who she met?”

He took another beignet.

“When Gillian and I went to the Moon Coast Inn, we found out she rented a room for Gerry the accountant for three nights but he left early. Any idea where he is?”

“We’re looking for him. What else did you find out?” George wiped his fingers on his napkin.

“Are you pumping me for information?” I had another thought. “What do you know about her business in the City?”

“Jack, you might want to add Gerry under suspects.” George pointed at the laptop.

That stunned me. “Why? He was an employee. What did he stand to gain by her death? He lost his job unless the boys hire him.”

“He seems to have vanished after our initial interview.”

“Maybe he’s another victim,” Gillian said.

Jack typed. “Motive?”

George shrugged. “No idea at this point, but running doesn’t make him look innocent. I’m beginning to think you don’t like me for my charming personality but rather for what I know.”

We all made little noises of insincere protest.

The corners of George’s mouth twisted as he tried hard not to laugh, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave him away.

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “When we were dating, I never gave you enough credit for a sense of humor.”

“Here’s something I’m not kidding about.” George raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward me. “People are saying that this was a nice, safe community before you moved here. They’re saying that the murders started up after you arrived, Cass.”