My gloves proved to be a little thin for the bike ride to town. The brilliant sunshine had turned out to be somewhat deceiving, which was my fault. I knew well enough that sunshine in late fall was quite different than a full day of sun in August. My fingers and nose were so cold from the ride that I determined wrapping my fingers around a cup of hot coffee, all the while resting my numb nose in the warm, fragrant steam, was just what I needed. I parked my bike in front of the shop and circled around to Les's coffee shop.
Much to my surprise, my very handsome boyfriend was sitting at one of Les's pub height tables warming his own hands and nose with a cup of coffee. "I came here looking for you, but your shop wasn't open yet." He glanced at his watch. "You're late."
"I'm well aware of that. I decided to ride my bike to work today and made a little pit stop." I held up my hands, still covered in the inadequate gloves. "My fingers are numb, so I need to wrap them around a hot coffee."
He pushed forward a second cup of coffee. "I bought you one, but it might not be as hot as you hoped."
"Any bit of warmth should help." I picked up the cup and pushed my nose closer, hoping to warm it up. It filled with the rich aroma of Les's special roast coffee, but it seemed the only thing that was going to defrost me this morning was my warm shop. "Thank you for the coffee."
He stood up and we walked toward the flower shop. "Where's the bird?" he asked.
"He decided he wasn't up for a flight to town. He prefers to travel by automobile." My fingers were still too stiff to unlock the door. "I think my bird had a good point this morning." I handed Briggs the key to open it.
"What was the pit stop?" he asked as we entered.
I walked straight to the thermostat and tapped the heat higher. "I stopped by the cemetery," I said as I headed down the hallway to put away the backpack I'd used to carry my things on my bike. I walked back out with my coffee.
"You sure do love that creepy old cemetery," Briggs noted.
"It's not creepy. It's—It's, well, I guess it's a little creepy. But there's so much history there, and this morning I treated myself to a personal tour of the Price family crypt."
He laughed, then saw that I was serious. "You toured their crypt?" he asked.
"I did and it was rather plain and uninspiring, but I found out something interesting. Jane Price was not buried next to her father, Harvard. All the other children, daughters included, are tucked in next to their paternal counterparts, but Jane is nowhere to be seen."
He shrugged. "Could be she married someone far away from Port Danby and is buried with her husband. Don't you think you might be straying off on the wrong path with the Jane Price connection to the Hawksworth murders? I mean a sprig of hundred-year-old lavender is hardly evidence."
"I guess we'll see once I solve this case." I flashed him a cheeky grin.
He chuckled. "I like your attitude. You're right. I guess we'll see."
"Help me pull some flowers out of the cooler. I need to put together some everyday bouquets. Then you can tell me what's going on with the Lionel Dexter case."
"We're trying to find out who owns the Funtasy, and we're having a hard time tracking down the woman who was living on the boat. It's especially hard when we don't have a name or any information about her."
I nearly spilled the bucket of carnations I was carrying. "I saw her. I saw the woman." We put the flowers down on the work island. "In fact, I smacked into her and caused her to drop a few oranges. She was quite frosty in our exchange. I kept apologizing but she had no response. She was definitely distracted, almost nervous, as if worried she was being followed." I motioned for him to follow me back to the cooler for more flowers. "Maybe she was worried that the police were looking for her, which I guess they were."
"She was in the Corner Market? I've got a full-time watch on the boat, but she hasn't shown up. I'll have to ask Gigi if there was a credit card used on the transaction. Thanks for that." He placed the tall vase of day lilies on the island. "I've got to head back to the station. I'm waiting for Kate Yardley. I've asked her to come in and answer some questions."
"Yes, she's quite distraught about it. Which reminds me of something else. Now, let her bring it up first because I was told by someone who Kate confided in."
"Dash," he said, dryly.
"Yes but do you want to hear this or not?"
"Yep, go ahead." His demeanor always changed when Dash's name came up.
"Apparently, someone sent Kate a picture of Lionel walking on the wharf, hand in hand with the mystery woman."
"Mystery woman?" His brows bunched.
I sighed. "The woman on the boat. I was trying to use a different title for her rather than the long, pedestrian 'woman on the boat'. I thought mystery woman sounded more intriguing. You really need to find out her name."
"I plan to. Who sent the picture to Kate? Sounds like someone was trying to warn her that she was attaching herself to a player."
"That's what it seems like. But she doesn't know who gave it to her. They slipped it under the shop door."
"I guess someone was hoping to get Lionel into trouble. I'll have to ask her about it."
I opened my mouth to protest, but he put up his hand to stop me. He gave me that tilted head, sincere brown eyed look. "Lacey, this is a murder investigation. I'm not going to tip toe around to spare people's relationships. But," he continued before I could put in my two cents. "I will give her a chance to bring it up first." He took hold of my hand and drew me closer. "What I would like to know now is—how the heck do you always stay two steps ahead of me on these investigations?"
I shrugged. "I'm in the community much more than the detective who is always either chained to his desk with paperwork or sitting at the courthouse to testify against bad people." I grinned. "I've got more bridges."
"I suppose that's true." He leaned forward and kissed me. "Stay out of trouble . . . and crypts," he added as he headed out the door.