After taking a deep breath to calm myself, I finished securing the dinghy to the dock. As I leaned over and felt for a pulse, I confirmed my suspicion—Gregor was dead. The wound on his chest sent chills down my spine. This wasn’t an accidental death. He had been stabbed.
“Let’s go get help, Mrs. Moto,” I said.
The calico yowled, then raced up the beach toward the house. I followed at a slower pace, pausing occasionally to stop and look back at the dock. Who could have killed Gregor, and why?
As I neared Warlock’s Manor, Scooter and Thomas were standing on the veranda, the agitated cat running circles around them and meowing loudly. Scooter was still wearing the t-shirt and sweatpants he had borrowed the previous night. Thomas was already dressed for the day in one of his eccentric outfits—a dark blue button-down shirt, a tie with a pineapple print on it, a canary yellow vest, hot pink trousers with a yellow pinstripe, and his customary flip-flops.
“How was your walk?” Thomas asked. He looked up at the sky. “Now that the storm has passed, it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”
I frowned. “It wasn’t exactly a walk.”
“Everything okay?” Scooter asked before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You seem lost in thought.”
“No, everything’s not—” I started to say.
“Hang on a minute,” Scooter said. He scooped Mrs. Moto up and held her in his arms. “What’s gotten into you? You keep screaming like you haven’t been fed in weeks.” He turned to me. “You did feed her, right?”
“Actually, I didn’t have a chance.”
“We’ll have to remedy that, won’t we my little admiral?” Scooter cooed. Mrs. Moto squirmed out of his arms and ran toward the dock. “The kitchen’s back here,” he yelled after her.
“Maybe she doesn’t like ham,” Thomas suggested.
“No, she loves ham,” Scooter said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. It’s like she’s on some sort of mission.”
“She is,” I said.
“Huh? What kind of mission?” Scooter asked.
“Well, I’m not quite sure how to put this,” I said.
Scooter pushed his glasses up on his nose. “What’s going on?”
I took a deep breath. “Gregor is dead.”
Thomas gasped. “Dead?”
“Yes,” I said. “Dead in our dinghy.”
“But…but how?” Thomas asked. “Was it a heart attack?”
“I don’t think so.”
“A stroke?”
I shook my head.
Thomas continued listing potential causes of death for men over the age of sixty. I suspected that he had a lot of medical sites bookmarked on his computer.
When he ran out of possible explanations related to natural death, Scooter asked, “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
I pointed at the porch swing. “You might want to sit down.”
“I think I know where this going,” Scooter said as he sat at one end of the swing.
Thomas continued to stand, his gaze darting back and forth between Scooter and me.
“I think Gregor was murdered.” I paused to gauge Thomas’ reaction. He had been pretty vocal in his dislike of Gregor. How did he feel about his demise? Then I had a chilling thought—what if Thomas had been the one to stab him?
“Are you sure it wasn’t a heart attack or stroke?” the artist asked in a quiet voice.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“How sure?” Thomas asked.
I was about to tell him about the blood, when I noticed Scooter’s ashen face. A description of how Gregor had died was going to be too much for him to handle. Normally, in situations like this, I would give him some chocolate, but all my M&M’S were at the bottom of the sea.
“Maybe I should show you instead,” I suggested to Thomas. “Scooter, why don’t you wait here?”
“Okay,” both of them said at the same time. Scooter looked relieved. Thomas looked apprehensive.
As we walked down the beach, I asked, “Are you sure you want to see this?”
Thomas paused and straightened his shoulders. “I’ll be fine. I’ve taken first aid courses before.”
“Uh, this isn’t quite the same thing,” I said.
He nodded slowly, then continued toward the dock. Mrs. Moto met us halfway. She gave a plaintive meow before escorting us the rest of the way.
After Thomas looked at the body, he said, “You’re right. This wasn’t a heart attack.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Maybe we should go back and call the authorities.”
Thomas ignored me, continuing to stare at Gregor, his expression alternating between shock and something that almost looked like relief.
“Let’s go back to the house, okay?” I said. “Does Destiny Key have its own police force?”
Thomas tore his gaze away from the dinghy. “Um, yeah. They do. The chief of police is actually Michael’s cousin.” I looked at him blankly. “Michael is the guy who owns Warlock’s Manor. I’ll give the chief a call.” He reached into his pocket and pulled his cell phone out. “Cell service is still down. I’ll have to try him on the VHF.”
As we walked back down the beach, I asked if he knew if Gregor had any relatives in the area.
Thomas shrugged. “I have no idea. My only interactions with him had to do with the art world.”
“It seemed like there was some bad blood between the two of you.”
He gave a wry laugh. “That’s putting it mildly.” Then he gave me an appraising look. “Wait, you don’t think I had anything to do with this, do you?”
I held my hands up. “No, I’m not saying that. I’m just curious about him is all. No one seemed happy to see him when he arrived last night. Except maybe Victoria, and I’m not even sure about that.”
“I don’t know why she put up with him,” Thomas said bitterly. “He was emotionally abusive to her.”
“So you knew they were seeing each other?” I asked.
“Yes. She confided in me once after they’d had a big fight. But she begged me to keep it to myself. I shouldn’t have. I’ve known men like that before. I should have made sure she got help.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “But at least she’s free of him now.”
“Speaking of Victoria,” I said, pointing at the house. She was standing on the veranda with Anabel. Both of the women were holding mugs, reminding me that I hadn’t had my morning coffee. With all the adrenaline coursing through my body as a result of finding Gregor, I hadn’t needed my usual caffeine fix.
“I better go break the news to her,” Thomas said. “Then I’ll try to get a hold of Chief Tyler.”
I sat on the porch swing next to Scooter. The color had returned to his face. Mrs. Moto was curled up in his lap, purring loudly as he stroked her.
“So it really is mur…” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘murder’ out loud.
I nodded as I reached over to scratch the calico’s head. We sat in silence for a few moments watching as Thomas explained to Victoria what had happened. She collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Then she pulled away and rubbed her eyes.
“I need to see him,” she said.
“You don’t want to see him like that,” Thomas said.
She flapped her hands in the air. “I need to make sure he’s dead.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to do this,” Thomas said.
Anabel grabbed Victoria’s hand. “Why don’t we go inside and have some more coffee?”
Victoria shook her head. “I don’t want coffee. I want to see Gregor.” She walked down the veranda steps shakily.
Anabel rushed over to her. “At least let me come with you,” she said, putting her hand through Victoria’s arm.
“Mollie, why don’t you go with them?” Thomas said. “I really need to call the chief.”
I rose and walked over to the two women. Victoria’s face looked drawn and she was shivering despite the warmth of the sun. I put my hand through Victoria’s other arm so that Anabel and I could help steady her as we walked down the beach.
When we reached the dinghy, the grieving woman inhaled sharply. She fell to her knees, mumbling Gregor’s name in between sobs. Anabel tried to help her to her feet, but she shook her off.
“Why don’t we give her a minute?” I suggested.
While we waited, some seagulls circled overhead. Looking at the bright sun and blue sky, it was hard to believe that there had been such a violent storm the previous night, let alone a murder.
“You ready for that coffee?” Anabel asked Victoria gently.
Victoria clasped her hands in front of her and closed her eyes as if in prayer. Then she rose to her feet. Her foot caught on the boat hook, causing her to lose her balance. I quickly grabbed her to keep her from falling in the water.
“I’m fine,” she said, brushing me off. “I need a few minutes to myself. I’m going to walk along the beach.”
After watching to make sure she got to the end of the dock safely, Anabel turned to me. “Do you know what she told me this morning? Gregor proposed to her last night. She was so happy. They were planning on being married at Christmastime.”
“Why would she agree to marry him?” I asked. “Thomas told me that he was emotionally abusive to her.”
“You got me,” Anabel said. “I couldn’t believe it when I realized that he was who she had been seeing. Gregor was always bragging about how he was some sort of international playboy.”
I snorted. “Him?”
“He was rich. Some women find that attractive. He once showed me pictures of him with a beautiful model on his arm at an art show in New York City. Compared to that young woman, Victoria is, well…”
“Older?” I suggested.
“Let’s just say that she didn’t seem like his type. But maybe that’s why she liked him. She might have felt good that he chose her over a younger woman.”
“But that might have also made her insecure,” I said. “She’d always be worried that he was going to ditch her.”
“And he did the other night when he sent her that text.”
“But he claimed that it was a lovers’ tiff,” I said.
“I wonder how many times he did that to her before,” Anabel mused.
“How long had they been dating?”
“I’m not sure,” Anabel said. “That’s a good question. She first mentioned that she was seeing someone a few weeks ago when we were having lunch, but it might have started before then.”
“If it was just a few weeks ago, that would have been a quick engagement. I didn’t notice a ring on Victoria’s finger.”
“He didn’t give her one. She said it was a spontaneous proposal, but that he promised he’d give her a ring soon. He was planning on having one designed for her by an artist in Paris. It was going to be a large ruby with emeralds on either side. From the way she described the ring, it sounded like the ruby was going to be the size of a walnut.”
I looked down at my own diamond engagement ring and wedding band and smiled as I thought back to when Scooter and I had decided to get married. There was still some disagreement as to who had proposed to whom, but we both had agreed as to the type of wedding we wanted—small and slightly quirky. It did turn out that our idea of quirky differed. For some reason, Scooter drew the line at a Star Wars theme.
“Why don’t we go get some coffee?” Anabel asked, interrupting my thoughts.
One of the seagulls landed in the dinghy. “Shoo,” I said, tugging on the line to scare it off. “Get out of there.”
That one flew away, only to be replaced by two others. I jumped up and down, waving my hands wildly to scare them off.
“I think I better stay here before this turns into some kind of Hitchcock movie,” I said.
“You mean like The Birds?” Anabel asked.
“Uh-huh. Ned showed that at the marina last week. Gave me nightmares. The last thing we need is a gang of birds attacking us. Why don’t you go back to the house and find out if Thomas got hold of the chief of police and when he’ll be here?”
“Okay,” she said. As she turned to leave, she looked back at Gregor, then quietly said, “Good riddance.”
I’m not sure why the seagulls thought the scene of a murder was so fascinating, but every time I scared one off, more swooped down to check things out. It was time to call in reinforcements. I saw Scooter and Mrs. Moto halfway down the beach and hurried over to them.
“I need to borrow the admiral for a while,” I said to Scooter.
He was kneeling on the sand videoing the calico while she chased a crab. He looked up at me. “Why’s that?”
“There are some seagulls I want to introduce her to.” I explained how a large crowd of them was gathering by the dinghy. “She’s always been good at chasing birds away.”
“Ooh. That would be a fun to film.” He paused as he remembered exactly what was in the dinghy. “Wait a minute, maybe it wouldn’t be that much fun.”
“I’m also going to need your phone. I want to take some pictures of Gregor’s, um, body.”
“Not on my phone, you’re not.” Scooter clutched his cell close to him. “Why are you getting involved, anyway? Thomas said he was calling the police.”
“I’m not getting involved. I’m just documenting the scene.” I peered over my shoulder at the dock. There was a lone seagull sitting on one of the posts. “I promise not to drop your phone in the water.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t want pictures of a, um…” He tried to keep from saying ‘dead body’ out loud, but couldn’t find a suitable euphemism.
“Recently departed person?” I suggested.
He nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’ll email the photos to me and delete them before I return it.” I held out my hand. He reluctantly put the phone in it.
“Now, where did that cat go?” Scooter asked.
Hearing a splashing sound behind me, I turned to look at the water and saw the calico happily paddling along the shoreline. “Oh my gosh, she’s swimming again.”
“Do you think she actually likes that?” Scooter asked.
“Well, it’s not like last night when she might have just been trying to escape from the dinghy. She voluntarily went in the water this time.”
“That’s the strangest thing. I didn’t know cats liked to swim.” He grabbed the phone back from me. “I’ve got to get this on camera. Mrs. Moto’s fans are going to love this.”
“Fans? She has fans?”
“Uh-huh. And a fan club. They’re called the Kalico Kittens.”
“How many members are there?”
“Well, just three right now,” he admitted. “But once we launch the YouTube channel, it’s going to explode. I’m going to set up an online shop with all sorts of merchandise with the Kalico Kittens logo on it.”
The conversation reminded me of Gregor’s Hello Kitty t-shirt and the need to get back to defend the dinghy from the birds. “Here kitty, kitty,” I called out. “Come with mama and let’s go chase some birds.”
The admiral swam back to shore, shook water off her fur, then promptly plopped down on the beach and rolled over.
“Ugh. Now you have sand all over you,” Scooter said. “That’s the problem with wet fur. Stuff clings to it.”
As he tried to wipe her off with his hands, Anabel joined us. “The good news is that Thomas managed to get a hold of Chief Tyler,” she said. “The bad news is that he doesn’t know when he can get here.”
“Doesn’t he know there’s been a murder?” I asked.
“Thomas explained it to him, but he said he has other things to deal with at the moment. Besides, the main road is still blocked, and it will be a while before it can be cleared.”
“Can’t he come by boat?”
“No, that isn’t an option. Thomas also spoke with Melvin. Apparently Penny and he tried to come here this morning in her dinghy, but the inlet to the cove is blocked as well with storm debris. Looks like we’re going to have to wait.”
I put my hands on my hips and frowned.
“It’s not like Gregor’s going anywhere,” Scooter said.
“It’s the birds I’m worried about. Ready, Mrs. Moto?” She squirmed out of his arms and led the way to the dock.
“Wait for me,” Anabel said. “I’ll keep you company.”
I smiled. “I can tell that you used to be married to a police officer. Not many people would call watching over a murder scene ‘keeping company.’”
“I guess I got used to that sort of thing being married to Tiny,” she said.
“He took you to crime scenes?” I asked.
“No, nothing like that, but he’d talk about his cases over dinner.”
I tried to imagine the chief willingly chatting about anything, let alone his cases.
Anabel must have seen my confusion. “He didn’t tell me the details, but he’d share a few things.”
As we walked down the dock, she asked, “Do you really think it was murder? Is it possible it was an accident?”
“Look at his chest,” I said when we reached the dinghy. “I don’t think there’s any way he could have accidentally stabbed himself and then fallen in there on his back. Unless you see something around here that could have done that?”
“There’s a rusty nail sticking out of this post,” she said. “Maybe he slipped on the dock, stumbled into the post, and the nail went into him.”
“Do you see any blood on it?” I asked.
She peered at the nail. “No. But with the rain last night, it would have washed it away.”
I wondered what other evidence the storm might have destroyed. “Good point. But I’m still not sure that a nail could have created that kind of wound.”
She picked up the boat hook I had used earlier to snag the stern anchor line. “What about this?”
“I can see someone using it as a club, but there aren’t any sharp points on it. Everything is smooth, rounded plastic and metal.” Mrs. Moto meowed at the end of the dock. “Do you see something?” I asked her.
We walked over and peered in the water. The only things I could make out in the rocks surrounding the dock were some small red circular objects.
“What is that?” Anabel asked. “Blood?”
“No. I think they might be M&M’S. I wonder how long it takes for them to dissolve in water,” I mused.
“You think the killer was eating candy?” she asked.
“No, those were mine. Although that might be an interesting idea—profiling criminals based on the candy they eat.”
Anabel laughed. “Given how much sugar you consume, you’d be in trouble. You’d fit every profile.”
I glanced at her, thinking about what she had said previously. “Are you really glad he’s dead?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“Well, before you left earlier, I heard you say, ‘good riddance,’”
“Of course I’m not glad he’s dead.” Her eyes rounded. “I don’t like the idea of anyone being killed, even someone like Gregor. I must have been thinking about Victoria when that slipped out.”
“That’s the type of thing you might want to keep to yourself,” I said. “You never know how someone might interpret it. Or rather misinterpret it.”
“You don’t seriously think I killed Gregor?”
“Oh my gosh, no,” I said. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to think it, that’s all.”
“Someone who’s guilty wouldn’t say something like that, anyway,” she said. “They’d want to throw suspicion off of themselves. They’d act upset.”
We both looked at Victoria. She had rolled her pants up above her knees and was wading in the water. She had sobbed uncontrollably when she saw Gregor. Had it all been an act? Had she been trying to throw off suspicion from herself?
“Would they also pretend to be in love with the victim?” I asked. “Pretend to be engaged?”
“I know what you’re thinking, but there’s no way Victoria could have killed Gregor.” Anabel frowned. “You’re as bad as Tiny, always thinking the worst of people.”
“I’m sorry. I know she’s your friend. Scooter is right. I should stay out of things like this. I don’t know why I always feel like I have to investigate,” I said.
Anabel grabbed my arm. “Actually, you should investigate.”
“Me?”
“Yes.” She leaned toward me and whispered, “Chief Tyler is corrupt. There’s no telling how he’ll handle this investigation. If we want to get to the bottom of this, you need to take charge.”
“Corrupt? Did Tiny tell you that?” I asked.
“Yes. A couple of years ago, he came home one night really upset,” she said.
“Were his eyebrows twitching?” I asked.
Anabel looked perplexed. “Huh?”
“Never mind, go on,” I said.
“Well, he had a few shots of whiskey, something he never does, then told me how Chief Tyler covered up a drug smuggling ring that was being run out of Destiny Key.”
“Why didn’t Tiny report it?” I asked.
“He did. It went all the way to the state attorney, but then the case was mysteriously dropped. This island takes care of its own. They have enough money to buy anyone.” Anabel paced back and forth on the dock, clenching her fists. “Don’t you want to see justice done? Don’t you want to make sure an innocent person isn’t accused of murder? Because that’s what Chief Tyler will do—he’ll try to pin this on whoever is the easiest scapegoat. He won’t waste any time looking for clues, interviewing witnesses, gathering evidence—”
“Did you say interviewing witnesses? Do you think someone saw Gregor get killed?” I asked, interrupting Anabel’s tirade.
“I don’t know if there are any witnesses, but that’s what a good investigator does—find out if there are. And you’re a good investigator,” she said.
“I am?”
“Of course. Look at how many murders you’ve solved in Coconut Cove already.”
“I’m pretty sure your ex would beg to differ,” I said. “He’s taken credit for every one of them.”
She smiled. “Well, that’s true. But I do know that he thinks the help you provided aided in cracking the cases.”
I was stunned. “He said that?”
“Well, not in so many words,” she admitted.
“What exactly has he said?”
“Uh…” She grinned, then covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.
“That’s what I thought.” I looked at her hands. “Are you wearing your engagement ring again?”
Her face reddened. “Well, yes, but it’s on my right hand, not my left.”
“But it’s still your engagement ring, right?” I asked.
“It’s pretty, that’s all.” She held out her hand to admire it. “Seems a shame to let it sit in a jewelry box.”
“I knew it,” I said. “You two are getting back together.”
She twisted the ring on her finger. “No, we’re not. That ship has sailed.”
“You’ve also been spending lots of time together lately,” I pointed out.
“That’s because we have joint custody of Frick and Frack. We’re just friends.”
“Would you even tell me if the two of you were seeing each other romantically, or would you keep it a secret like Victoria did?”
“Can we just drop the subject?” Anabel said. She pointed at the dinghy. “Looks like the seagulls are back.”
While Mrs. Moto ran back and forth making a chirping sound, I reached down to jostle the side of the dinghy. “Get off there!”
After they flew away, the calico lay down on the dock and started washing herself.
“Strong work. You deserve a rest break,” I told her, then sat on the edge of the dock. I pulled out Scooter’s phone and took some pictures.
“See, you’re already investigating,” Anabel said.
“These are just photos,” I said.
“It’s more than that, admit it.”
“Fine, I’m curious about who did this and why.”
She clapped her hands together. “Great, you’re in. I’ll tell you what, I’ll be your assistant. What’s our first step?”
“Step number one is to find the murder weapon.”
“That’ll be tricky,” Anabel said.
“No. I think it’s going to be a cinch.” While I had been jostling the dinghy to scare off the birds, something rolled out from underneath the body. “See that there?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure that’s the knife that killed Gregor.”