It was midday by the time Casey left. I was pretty sure he’d stretched out that last hour, taking his time fussing with the oven, and my ego inflated considerably that he was dragging his heels just to spend time with me. Until he burst my bubble by explaining that Joan Jackson, the laundry reno client, would not be home until lunchtime. Something about the Women of Gravestone Committee meeting and that if he timed it right, he could go straight from one job to the other.
After watching him leave, I returned to the kitchen, running my hand over my new oven. I really wanted to bake, but it was as hot as hades. I’d have to wait until evening before I fired this baby up, but I was mentally preparing what delights I’d produce. Snickerdoodles, apple fritters, all kinds of fruit cobblers.
A movement out the kitchen window caught my eye, and I leaned over the sink to peer through the dirty glass. Really must get around to cleaning the windows. Maybe I could hire Denise to come clean them?
There! In the mangroves… was that an arm? Waving?
Stepping onto the back deck, I carefully made my way down the steps and through the trampled weeds, my hand shielding my eyes from the blazing sun as I cautiously approached the mangroves. Then I spotted her. In a flat bottomed boat, hidden amongst the mangroves, was Doris.
“Oh good, you saw me.” She smiled. Today, she was wearing a leopard print blouse accompanied by olive green waders. A fisherman’s hat, complete with fishing hooks attached to the brim, perched on her white hair.
“What on earth are you doing?” I asked. Doris had hold of an overhead branch while she sat perched on one of the bench seats in the tin boat.
“We’re going looking for the rest of Seth’s body!” she declared. She waved me forward. “Hop in, hop in.”
I eyed the small boat, the front end wedged into the mangroves while Doris held it in place. “I’m not sure I can. Don’t want to get my walking boot wet.”
“Easily fixed.” To my horror, Doris threw a leg over the side of the boat and stepped out. That’s when I discovered the water was less than a foot deep. Now I understood the waders. “They’re going to build a boardwalk out here,” she said while moving to the back of the boat where an outboard motor was attached. She started pushing the boat closer to the shore where I stood. “Some eco-tourism type thing.”
“A boardwalk?” I looked over my shoulder to where my house stood, not far from the mangroves.
“Mmhmm. John was vehemently opposed to it. Said it was an invasion of his privacy, what with the mangroves right on his boundary. But now he’s dead, there’s no one to oppose it. I’m guessing the Council will move fast.”
“And what do the neighbors think?” I looked toward my neighbor’s house, hidden behind a row of trees. Once I was more settled, I’d go over and introduce myself.
“Oh, that house is empty. Has been for years. Council wants it demolished. John’s place too. Kerris was fit to explode when she heard you’d arrived. I think she was hoping to grab the place for a song in an estate sale and bulldoze the lot.”
“Kerris?”
“Kerris Jones, Gravestone’s Mayor.” A shudder went through Doris’s body. “Can’t trust her as far as you could throw her. Which wouldn’t be far on accounting of her size.”
Doris finally succeeded in maneuvering the boat, so all I had to do was climb in over the front. Throwing my injured leg in first, I pushed off with my good foot, the momentum shoving the boat backward with a sudden jolt. I lost my balance and catapulted forward, landing in a heap in the bottom. Doris shrieked, the boat slamming into her. I saw her mouth make the perfect O before she disappeared from view with a splash.
“Doris!” Scrambling as fast as I could, which wasn’t easy with the boat rocking in what little water it had, I made my way to the rear of the boat. I peered over the edge to find Doris sitting in the water, laughing her head off. Lucky for her, the waders reached her armpits, and the water didn’t.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, holding out my hand to help her to her feet. She took it, and we managed to get her into the boat amongst much giggling. Finally settling on the front bench while Doris took the back, she yanked the motor’s pull cord, and the engine roared to life.
“How come I didn’t hear you approach?” I asked over the noise of the motor.
“Because I didn’t want you to,” was her cryptic answer. “Duck!” she yelled.
“Where?” I turned my head to look for the feathered critter and instead got whacked in the forehead with an overhanging branch. The boat’s momentum, traveling in the opposite direction, was enough to knock me off my seat, and I was once more in the bottom of the boat, this time flat on my back.
“Why didn’t you duck?” Doris asked, puzzled as to why I hadn’t avoided the branch.
“Because I thought you meant duck, as in a bird!” I pushed myself back up and onto my seat, this time keeping an eye out for low-hanging branches. My forehead was throbbing, and a gentle probe with my fingers told me I had a large egg forming. I was going to be covered in bruises before the day was out.
Doris kept the throttle low, and we slowly weaved in and around the mangroves. I kept my eyes trained on the roots and bases of the trees, anywhere a body would likely get caught up, while Doris focused on not crashing us into those roots and trees.
“Hold it right there!” A voice echoed across the water, unnaturally loud.
I practically jumped out of my skin. Turning, I saw Calder in a similar boat to ours, only bigger, with a megaphone held to his mouth.
“Uh-oh,” Doris muttered before yelling at the sheriff, “What’s that, Calder? Can’t hear you over the engine.”
“Turn your engine off, Doris,” Calder drawled, still using the loud speaker. “I’m coming alongside.”
“Busted,” she said beneath her breath. I looked at her, wide-eyed.
“Are we not supposed to be in the mangroves?” I whispered, trying not to move my lips. “Is this off-limits?”
Doris snorted. “Of course not. Anyone can enjoy the mangroves.”
I relaxed. “What’s the problem then?”
Doris dutifully killed the engine, and Calder brought his boat alongside.
“The problem is Doris doesn’t have a boat license,” he said, having overheard.
My brows shot up. “You need a boat license? That’s a thing?”
“It’s a thing,” Calder confirmed. To Doris, he said, “Does Mary Lou know you have her boat?”
“I only borrowed it,” Doris huffed. “I’m going to put it back.”
I couldn’t contain my eye roll. Great. Now I was aiding and abetting a boat thief.
“Care to explain what you’re doing out here?” Calder asked, resting one arm on his knee where his foot was propped on the side of his boat. I got the sense he’d had this conversation with Doris more than once.
“I’m showing Holly the sights.” Doris grinned. I looked around. The mangroves were scenic enough. I supposed it wasn’t a bad excuse as far as excuses went.
“Is that right?” Calder drawled. “So, you wouldn’t be out here searching for missing bones?”
“Nope,” Doris shot back. “But if we happen to come across them, we’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Any word on who took the hand?” I asked. “Does the station have CCTV?”
Calder straightened. “This isn’t CSI. We have no need for CCTV.” His tone suggested he didn’t appreciate my inquiry.
“Seems to me it sure would come in handy for finding out who walked into your station, in broad daylight, and helped themselves to evidence. Without anyone noticing.” I couldn’t resist the barb. It still stung that he’d immediately suspected it was me and had a search warrant issued post haste. That search warrant meant my name, well, my alias’s name, was now in the system. Not an ideal situation.
He smiled—one of those patronizing, fake smiles. “Stay out of this investigation. Both of you. If I discover you poking your noses in, you’ll find yourselves back in the cells.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.” His voice, edged with steel, brooked no argument, so I was totally disarmed when he winked, then shoved his booted foot against the side of our boat, separating the two vessels. “Get Mary Lou’s boat back to her right this minute Doris, before she reports it stolen. Again.” With that, he revved his engine and powered away, leaving our little boat rocking in his wake. I gripped the sides, white-knuckled until the water settled.
“Guess we’d better do as he says,” I said, but Doris just laughed at me.
“We’ve got as much right to be out on the water as anyone else,” she declared.
“But apparently, you need a boat license, Doris. Which you don’t have. So the sheriff, on this occasion, has a point.” I didn’t mention the small matter of her stealing the boat.
She cocked her head, considered my words, and eventually nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine. Didn’t peg you for a spoilsport.”
My brows shot up. “And I didn’t peg you as a boat thief.”
Before I could argue further, she twisted the throttle, and the boat shot forward, cutting off any further conversation.
Once we cleared the mangroves, Doris drove us out into the bay, and I had to admit, it was beautiful. Pristine beaches, a tree-lined shore, and historic buildings against a backdrop of rolling farmlands and hills presented a picturesque setting for the charming town of Gravestone. Out on the water, the ocean breeze was cooling, taking the edge off the heat of the day.
“It’s beautiful,” I sighed, seeing Gravestone from a whole new perspective.
“What’s that?” Doris yelled, then killed the engine, letting us float with the current.
“I said it’s beautiful.” I swiveled on my seat, half facing Doris, half facing the town.
“It sure is.” Doris beamed.
“Have you lived here long?”
“All my life.”
I couldn’t begin to imagine living in one place for your entire life. I never stayed in one spot for longer than three months, sometimes six depending on the job and how deep undercover I had to go. This was the first time in my adult life that I was forced to take time off, and while I had a couple of projects to keep me occupied, I honestly wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to stand being cooped up in Gravestone, unable to work. It’s not that I didn’t like the town. I did. It was the work aspect.
“Oh, heck,” Doris muttered. “There’s Mary Lou’s car. Better get the boat back.”
Before I could respond, Doris pulled the rip cord, and the outboard motor roared to life. She twisted the throttle and spun the boat around. I sat in the middle and gripped either side of the boat with white knuckles while she raced toward the shore. I spotted River’s and the old jetty. Doris shot past the end of the jetty and then turned a sharp left, revealing a boat ramp. An olive green Land Rover was parked on the boat ramp with a boat trailer attached, partially submerged.
“Hold tight!” Doris yelled, lining the boat up with the trailer.
“What?” I screeched. “No way! Doris, you can’t drive the boat right onto the trailer!” I cried, horrified that I was most definitely facing my impending death. The tide had clearly receded since Doris had launched the boat. There was not enough water to get the boat back onto the trailer. Not without reversing the trailer farther down the boat ramp, which would have been the sensible thing to do. I considered offering to do it myself; it wouldn’t kill me to take off my boot and wade through the water to the jeep. But Doris was having none of it. In the mere seconds I’d had to think of another, more sensible approach, the distance between us and the trailer was nonexistent.
Doris cut the engine. I lowered my chin to my chest and squeezed my eyes shut, kissing my butt goodbye. Who knew I’d go out in a vehicle versus boat accident in small-town Texas? With my jaw clamped so tight my teeth ached, I waited for the impact. There was a jolt, the sound of metal scraping against steel, then nothing. We were stationary. Prying open one eye, then the other, I looked around in disbelief. She’d done it! The boat was safely on the trailer. We hadn’t plowed through the back of the Land Rover. There was no shattered glass or mangled metal. We were alive!
Doris hopped out and attached the boat to the trailer at the front, explaining that Mary Lou kept her boat and its trailer at the boat ramp three hundred and sixty-five days a year, which, in Doris’s opinion, meant she didn’t mind if people borrowed it. After all, there was nothing stopping anyone from doing exactly what Doris had done—reversed the trailer to the boat ramp and taken the boat for a spin.
The Land Rover’s door slammed, then the engine roared to life, and Doris towed the trailer out of the water, expertly maneuvering to reverse park it in the parking lot. Winding down her window, she leaned out and yelled, “Hop out here. I’ll finish up and meet you up at River’s. You okay to walk that far?”
“Sure.” River’s was on the other side of the jetty, which conveniently hid the boat ramp—and Doris’s thievery—from view. It was a tad challenging to climb out of the boat while it was atop the trailer, especially with a walking boot, but I managed it and hobbled my way up the incline toward the shore and River’s bakery. A few minutes later, the Land Rover roared past me. Doris gave a quick toot on the horn and a wave out the window, then turned in the opposite direction to River’s.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered to myself, watching the departing Land Rover. “Did she steal that too?”
A few short minutes later, I reached River’s at the same time Doris did, the roar of her red Impala impossible to miss. I stood at the entrance, hand shielding my eyes, and waited for her. I’d left home without my purse, phone, or anything. I hadn’t been expecting to need any of those things. I’d also left home without locking up, which rankled because I wasn’t usually that careless.
“Oh, hi, Holly.” Doris waved, having exchanged her waders for a pair of bright yellow pants. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Fancy,” I drawled. “I take it that Land Rover wasn’t yours?”
“Gus O’Genn’s.” She winked. “He wasn’t using it.”
“Did he even know you borrowed it?”
“Does it even matter?” She darted in front of me and opened the door, preceding me inside. I had a funny feeling hanging out with Doris for any length of time was going to see me spending more time in Sheriff Calder’s cells. I smiled, the first honest to God smile I’d smiled in a long time, and followed Doris inside.