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“THANK YOU, SIR,” I heard someone say behind me. “We’ll be in touch if we need any more information.” I turned and saw Chief Dalton ushering a man out of the lounge next to the office. He caught sight of me, walked back inside, and shut the door. He wasn’t going to get away from me that easily.
I seized my purse and Ben’s beer and pushed the door open. Mrs. Moto ran in and jumped on the windowsill. The chief wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He was stealthier than I would have guessed. There was a kitchenette at the back of the lounge. I decided to tuck Ben’s beer in the fridge and give it back to him later. I turned to close the door and saw the chief standing behind it rubbing his nose.
“Oh, there you are,” I said. “What are you doing hiding back there?”
“I went to get my briefcase off the table when you smacked into me with the door.” At least, I think that’s what he said. It’s hard to understand someone when they’re pressing a napkin to their face.
“Is your nose bleeding?”
“Yes,” he said. He arched one of his bushy eyebrows, then the other. Good. He still had full range of movement of the furry caterpillars adorning his forehead. He couldn’t be too badly hurt.
“You should really sit down,” I said. He raised his eyebrows again. “You might be more comfortable sitting while I give you my report.”
He furrowed his brow as though he didn’t understand what I was saying. Blood loss will do that to you.
“You know, my report on the investigation.” I sat in one of the comfy lounge chairs in front of the big-screen television. Chief Dalton continued to stand near the door. “Plus, I have evidence for you. Something I found on Marjorie Jane last night.” Finally, he came over and sat in a chair.
“Evidence?” he asked as he pressed another napkin to his nose.
I reached into my purse and pulled out a plastic bag containing the pink fingernail. I had even labeled the bag with a description of where I had discovered the evidence at the crime scene. Chief Dalton was sure to be impressed by my professionalism. “Right before you arrived at our boat, I found this on the floor,” I said proudly.
The burly man continued to press a napkin to his nose with one hand and took the bag in his other.
Mrs. Moto streaked across the room, jumped onto the chief’s chair, pawed at him, and meowed loudly. He dropped the bag in surprise.
“Is that your cat?” he asked as he tried to push her off. Mrs. Moto pawed at him again, this time with her claws extended. Chief Dalton backed down. Smart move.
“No, she belongs to Jack and Sandy. I should probably start with them first.”
“Start with them first?”
“Yes, I’ve got quite a lot to report.”
The chief picked the evidence up off the floor, sighed, and sat back in his chair. “Go on.”
“I interviewed Sandy this morning. Have you interviewed her yet?” He was too busy trying to keep Mrs. Moto away from the fingernail to respond. I continued. “Well, if you have, you’re probably as concerned as I am. Not just about the murder, but about the abduction.”
Chief Dalton looked at me with surprise. “Abduction? We haven’t had any reports of an abduction.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. No other reports of bright lights, unexplained bruises, that sort of thing?”
“What exactly are you talking about, Mrs. McGhie?”
“The classic signs of abduction, such as sleepwalking and strange dreams. Nosebleeds, like yours.” He looked confused. “Don’t you guys get training in this?”
“Come again?”
“Alien abduction. What else could I be talking about?”
Just when I didn’t think the chief could raise his eyebrows any higher, he managed to. “Mrs. McGhie, we’re investigating a murder here, not an alien abduction. You don’t honestly believe in that sort of thing, do you?”
He got up, threw the napkins in the trash, and put the plastic bag with the fingernail in his briefcase. Mrs. Moto padded over to him and meowed loudly. He ignored her. “Now, where exactly did you find this fingernail?”
“In the galley. Did you notice the color? It’s bright pink. Two women had bright pink manicures yesterday—Penny, the sailing school instructor, and Nancy, the owner of the marina. Both of them had reason to be angry with Captain Dan. He cheated them out of money. My theory is that one of them came on our boat last night, whacked him with the winch handle, and somehow lost one of their nails in the process.”
“Why don’t you leave the murder investigation to the professionals, and we’ll leave the alien abduction investigation to the amateurs.” He snapped his briefcase shut and left.
Mrs. Moto ran to the door and meowed loudly. She really didn’t miss that infuriating man, did she? I opened the door. She walked across the patio toward the beach, stopping now and then to look back at me as though she wanted me to follow her.
* * *
WHILE SANDY’S CAT CHASED seagulls on the beach, I sat on a piece of driftwood and thought about what the chief had said. I couldn’t believe he had called me an amateur! It was bad enough that Scooter pooh-poohed what I did for a living—well, not exactly for a living, but you know what I mean—but now Chief Dalton was dismissing me too. You would think a professional law enforcement officer would take alien abduction more seriously.
That was the problem. Individuals who come forward with their accounts aren’t taken seriously. As a result, people don’t put two and two together when it comes to recognizing the signs of alien abduction. People like Sandy. Chances were she didn’t even realize what had happened to her. I needed to figure out a way to help her process her experience and come to terms with it.
I got out a notebook from my purse. It was time to start a to-do list:
1) Type up the notes from my interview with Sandy and write a report on her abduction for FAROUT’s board of directors
2) Type up the notes from my interviews with Jack, Nancy, and Ben
3) Buy more chocolate
4) Figure out how to get Scooter on board with adopting Mrs. Moto
5) Figure out how to convince Scooter that we should sell Marjorie Jane
6) Solve Captain Dan’s murder
I underlined the last item and put a couple of exclamation points after it. I imagined the expression on Chief Dalton’s face when I solved the murder before he did. It would be almost as sweet as seeing the one on Lola’s face when I was promoted to the investigative reporter role over her.
As I was daydreaming about my promotion, Scooter called out, “There you are, my little bok choy.” I wrinkled my nose. “Okay, I take it that’s a no to bok choy.”
He took a seat next to me. “I was just at Melvin’s Marine Emporium looking at stuff we’re going to need for Marjorie Jane. I know how much you like catalogs, so I brought one back for you.”
I leafed through the glossy pages. “Um, Scooter, the catalogs I normally look at have things like sweaters and shoes in them. I don’t know what anything is in here. Like this,” I said, pointing at a strange rubber item.
Scooter leaned over and looked at the picture. “Oh, that’s a joker valve. You need to replace them in marine toilets periodically. I’ve heard it’s a really nasty job. One more reason to go with a composting toilet instead, don’t you think?”
“Is there anything in here that’s less gross and more interesting?”
Scooter turned to a page with pictures of inflatable dinghies. “We’re going to need one of these.”
“Wow, those are expensive.”
“Yep, you know what they say BOAT stands for—Break Out Another Thousand, or in this case, several thousand.”
“Don’t you need an outboard motor for a dinghy too?”
Scooter laughed. “That’s the spirit. See, you’re really getting into boating.”
“I was talking to Ben earlier and he said that his outboard died last night. I guess that’s his alibi for Captain Dan’s murder. He couldn’t have come to shore during the time Captain Dan was killed because his engine wasn’t working. Jack went out this morning to help him fix it.”
Scooter shuddered at the mention of the murder. He collected himself and smiled. “Yeah, that’s the problem with boats. Everything breaks sooner or later.” I wasn’t sure why he was smiling. Who in the world likes it when things break? “Except the good news is that when stuff on our boat breaks, we’ll be in exotic locations. We can fix things in the morning and then go for a swim in the afternoon.”
“I don’t know, Scooter. It all sounds really expensive. Just look at the prices on some of these things.”
“See, it’s a good thing we got such a deal on Marjorie Jane.”
“But it’s not much of a deal if we have to fix lots of things on her, is it? Everyone I talk to seems to think Captain Dan sold us a lemon.”
“Nah, they’re just jealous. We got a great deal that they missed out on.”
“But are you sure you want to keep Marjorie Jane after someone was murdered on board?”
Scooter clasped his hands together tightly and took a deep breath. “To be honest, last night I started to have second thoughts, but what better way to honor Captain Dan’s memory than by fixing her up?”
I could think of plenty of better ways to honor Captain Dan’s memory, none of which involved fixing up a boat.
“What’s that cat doing over there?” Scooter asked. Mrs. Moto was fishing her paw underneath a small overturned wooden boat on the beach. After a few tries, she managed to get the object out, then pounced on it. She tossed it in the air a few times, then came bounding over to us holding it in her mouth. She dropped it at my feet and meowed.
“Good kitty,” I said. “What did you bring me?” I reached down and picked up a crumpled piece of paper.
I smoothed it out. “It looks like an IOU.” I squinted at the torn paper. “Is that Ben’s name on it?”
“Let me have a look at that,” Scooter said. After examining it, he handed it back to me. “I can’t really make anything out. It’s probably nothing. I’m sure stuff washes up on the beach all the time.” I folded it carefully and tucked it into my purse.
Scooter slapped his knees with his hands. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you the good news. I saw Chief Dalton on my way down to the beach. He said we’re free to go back on board Marjorie Jane. They’ve cleaned everything up.” He hesitated and looked a little woozy. “But there is one big issue. There are blood stains on the floor. I’m not sure I really want to see that.”
“I think I have a solution to that. There’s only one problem,” I said, pointing at the mooring field. “We need to get out there.”
* * *
WE DECIDED TO WALK back to the marina and see if anyone could give us a ride out to Ben’s boat. I kept my eyes on the beach in search of seashells to add to my collection, while Mrs. Moto trailed behind me, keeping the seagulls in check.
I was picking through a pile of shells when Scooter stumbled into me, knocking me down. “Sorry about that,” he said as he helped me up. “I was so caught up watching the racing that I didn’t notice where I was going.”
I held my hand over my eyes to minimize the glare of the sun bouncing off the water. I could see half a dozen small boats weaving through the bay, adjusting their sails as they changed direction.
“What are those?” I asked. “I didn’t know they could make sailboats so small.”
“They’re Optimist dinghies. Kids use them to learn how to sail.” He shouted encouragement to the girl who was in the lead. “I wish I had done something like that when I was their age,” he said wistfully.
We watched as the tiny boats zipped back and forth, followed by a small pink speedboat. “Hey, I think that’s Penny out there,” I said, wondering what in Penny’s life wasn’t pink.
“Makes sense. She’s the sailing instructor.”
Mrs. Moto dropped something at my feet, and then twined herself around my legs.
“What did you bring me now, Mrs. Moto? Oh, that’s a pretty one.” I rubbed sand off the small green seashell.
“How do you know that cat’s name?” Scooter asked suspiciously.
“Oh, she belongs to Jack and Sandy.” I gave Scooter a bright smile. “They’re looking for someone to adopt her.”
Scooter frowned as the calico played with his shoelaces. He pulled his foot away. “Why don’t they want to keep her? She’s really adorable.” By adorable, I think he meant annoying.
“They need to sell their boat and their condo association doesn’t allow pets.” I watched as Mrs. Moto tried to untie his laces again. I suspect she thought Scooter pulling his feet away was part of the game. “You know, I feel bad for Sandy. They’ve got financial problems, and their marriage seems on shaky ground. And on top of all that she has to deal with what they did to her.”
“They?”
I pointed at the sky. “You know, them. I’m writing a report on her abduction for FAROUT.”
“Sandy, an alien abductee? I doubt it.” He laughed. “Heck, there’s probably a bigger chance that she’s the murderer.”
“Murder? No, I don’t think Sandy could have done that. She’s in too much of a fragile state. The woman can barely function with her insomnia, headaches, nightmares, and sleepwalking.” I picked Mrs. Moto up before Scooter lost patience with her. “My money is on Penny or Nancy. That pink fingernail I found in the galley could belong to one of them.” Scooter looked at me quizzically. “Oh, yeah. I guess I forgot to tell you about that. Don’t take it personally. Chief Dalton didn’t know about it either until today. Both Penny and Nancy had pink manicures the day of the murder, which means one of them must have been on Marjorie Jane that night and killed Captain Dan.”
Scooter flinched at the mention of murder but held it together. It was probably being in close proximity to Mrs. Moto. Cats have a calming effect on people. “But couldn’t that fingernail have been there before?” he asked.
“Remember how you cleaned up the boat after the break-in?” Scooter nodded while keeping a wary eye on the Japanese bobtail. “You didn’t see it then, did you?”
“No, I don’t think so.” He thought about it for a few minutes. “But still, I can’t picture it, especially Nancy. She’s an older lady. Could she really have had the strength to, you know—”
I interjected quickly before Scooter had to utter the word “murder.” “You need to spend more time with Nancy. She’s got a serious temper, and given the way I’ve seen her brandish brooms, staplers, and cans, I don’t doubt that she could wield a winch handle if she were angry enough. She’s definitely got motive. And so does Penny. Captain Dan cheated them, just like he cheated Jack.”
“What did he do to Jack?”
“Sold him some worthless anchor chain.”
“So maybe it was Jack,” Scooter said. Then he added quickly, “I’m just kidding. Jack seems like a stand-up guy. I’m sure it wasn’t him.”
“Maybe I need to talk with him some more,” I mused. “I did see him with a cart full of marine equipment earlier, including a large winch handle.”
Mrs. Moto suddenly yowled, jumped out of my arms, and ran toward the water. I looked over to see what had her so excited. “Scooter, did that boat just capsize?” I asked in shock.
“Yep. That happens.” He saw the concerned expression on my face. “They’ll be okay.” We watched as a boy righted the small boat and climbed back on board.
I breathed a big sigh of relief. “Falling out of a boat would be my worst nightmare.”
“Don’t worry. That will never happen to you.”
* * *
WE WATCHED THE END of the race, cheering along with the families who were gathered on the beach. The children brought their dinghies on shore, stowed their gear, and teased each other about who was a better sailor. Penny gathered the children and parents around her, debriefing them on the morning’s activities, and giving them instructions for the following week’s class.
“Come on, let’s go over and talk to Penny,” I said. “Maybe she can take us out to see Ben on that fancy pink boat of hers.”
“That was an exciting race,” Scooter said to her. “Those kids are fearless.”
“They sure are,” Penny agreed. “Teaching the children’s course is one of my favorite parts of being a sailing instructor. They’re so eager to learn.” She turned to me. “What about you, Mollie? You’re going to need to learn how to sail now that you’re a boat owner. I do ladies’ lessons every Thursday. I find women have more confidence learning sailing skills when their husbands aren’t around.” She glanced at Scooter. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Scooter put his arm around my shoulder. “I think it would be a great idea. Let’s sign you up.”
Penny was giving us the details when the young girl who had won the race came bounding up wearing a polka dot swimsuit with an octopus on it. She wore her light-brown hair in two braids, and her green eyes sparkled. “Can you believe I won, Miss Penny?”
“Of course I can, Katy. You’ve been working really hard, and you had a great race.”
“I just wish my grandparents could have been here to see it,” Katy said. Her eyes got big. “Someone was killed at the marina last night. Grandma and Grandpa have been busy with police and reporters all morning.”
My ears perked up at the mention of reporters. Was someone trying to steal my story about Sandy’s abduction? Was it about the mysterious lights I saw?
Penny tugged at the girl’s braids gently. “It’s okay, Katy. They’ll be able to watch you next week. Maybe you’ll even win again.”
Katy grinned, showing off two gaps in her front teeth. I wondered how much the Tooth Fairy was paying out these days. I use my credit and debit cards for practically everything and never have any cash on hand. Does the Tooth Fairy have the same problem?
She hugged Penny good-bye and ran up the stairs from the beach to the boardwalk. “Katy is Ned and Nancy’s granddaughter,” Penny said. “She’s a regular little mermaid. She’s only seven years old, but she’s taken to sailing quickly.”
“I didn’t realize Ned and Nancy had grandkids,” I said, watching as Katy stopped to scratch Mrs. Moto on the head.
“They raised their kids in Coconut Cove. Their sons moved away, but their daughter and her husband settled here and had two kids—Katy and her younger brother, Sam.” Penny adjusted her hot-pink baseball hat. “If Katy can learn to sail, then you can too. Unless, of course, you want to sell that dilapidated sailboat of yours. I’m still interested in taking her off your hands.”
“Thanks for the offer, but we’re committed to fixing her up and sailing her off into the sunset,” Scooter said.
“You’re gonna need to do a lot of work to her,” Penny said. “That’s a big job for just two people.”
Why was she looking at me? Did she think I was going to work on that boat with Scooter? Time to get that idea out of her head, and more importantly, out of Scooter’s head. “Ben mentioned that he was looking for work. He might be a good person to help Scooter.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Penny said thoughtfully. “When he isn’t drinking beer, Ben’s actually a good worker. He knows tons about boats.”
“Well, the first thing we need to get him to do is remove the stains from the floor,” I said.
“Stains?” Penny asked.
“You know, from the, um...”
“Oh, stains. Gotcha.”
“We were actually hoping you might be able to give us a lift out to Ben’s boat to tell him that he’s hired.”
“Sure, no problem.” She pointed at her pink speedboat, which was anchored a few feet from the shore. “Hop on in.”
* * *
I WAS STILL WRINGING out my skirt, which had gotten soaked getting into Penny’s boat, along with the rest of me, when we pulled up to Ben’s boat. I didn’t think it was possible to find a boat that looked worse than Marjorie Jane, but Ben had achieved that dubious honor. What appeared to have been blue paint at one time was chipped and faded, the canvas was ripped, and the decks were long overdue for some varnish. I could just about make out the name, Poseidon’s Saber, next to a carving of a scantily clad mermaid.
Penny knocked on the side of the boat. “Ben, are you there? It’s me, Penny, along with Scooter and Mollie from Marjorie Jane.”
I heard some banging, followed by a few salty phrases that any pirate would be proud to have in his vocabulary. Ben came up on deck, stretching his arms. “Sorry about that. I was having a bit of a nap down below.” He grabbed a rope from Penny and tied off her boat to the side. “Come on aboard,” he said, pointing at a rickety ladder.
I wasn’t too sure that I wanted to climb up that. “Maybe I should just wait here,” I suggested.
“Nonsense,” Scooter said. “It’ll be a good chance to check out another sailboat and get ideas for Marjorie Jane. Climb on up.” He held the ladder steady while I cautiously made my ascent.
“How’s it going, Mollie?” Ben said, offering me his hand and helping me up on deck. “Long time, no see. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“I talked with Scooter and we want to hire you to do some work on the boat.”
After agreeing to an hourly rate, Ben said, “This calls for a celebration.” He shoved aside an old guitar and a pile of rags and motioned for us to sit down. “Who wants a soda?”
Obviously, Ben didn’t realize that celebrations involved chocolate, not a can of warm generic cola.
Scooter took him up on his offer and popped open a can. “How long have you had this boat?”
“I bought her earlier this year from Captain Dan. You should have seen what she looked like before I got my hands on her. Boy, was she a wreck.”
“She used to be owned by that old guy, didn’t she?” Penny asked.
“Yep, a real old salt. He circumnavigated the globe on this boat. I’m hoping to do the same thing.” He combed his fingers through his hair, then pulled it back into a ponytail. “But it’ll be a while yet before I can get her off this mooring ball. She needs a new engine and a million other things.” He slapped Scooter on the knee. “Working for you is sure going to help a lot. I’m gonna save up my money, point Poseidon’s Saber toward the Caribbean, and never come back.”
“You’d sail down there all by yourself?” I asked.
Ben sighed. “I guess so. It’s really hard to find a woman who wants to live aboard a boat and share the sailing dream.” He punched Scooter in the arm. “You’re a lucky fellow. Not every guy has a wife who’s willing to sell everything, move aboard a boat, and sail around the world.”
My jaw dropped. Selling everything and sailing around the world was news to me. Scooter’s midlife crisis was taking on new proportions.
Scooter patted my arm. “One step at a time, Ben. First, we need to get Marjorie Jane fixed up. When do you think you’d be able to start work?”
Ben’s eyes lit up. “How about later this afternoon?”
“Sounds good. The first thing we have to do is some cleaning.” I noticed Scooter didn’t mention exactly what needed to be cleaned up. “The boat’s in a bit of disarray given what happened last night.”
“Oh, yeah, the murder. Do the police have any idea who did it?”
“Not yet,” Scooter said. “I think they’ve been interviewing everyone today. Hopefully, they’ll solve the case soon, and we can all move on with our lives.”
“Did they interview you, Penny?” I asked.
“Bright and early this morning,” she replied.
“I bet they asked you the usual questions, like what you were doing at the time of Captain Dan’s murder.”
“They did.”
I was hoping for a little more information. Fortunately, we’d received training on questioning techniques for reluctant interviewees from FAROUT. I tried again. “What exactly were you doing at the time of Captain Dan’s murder?”
Penny looked flustered. “I was on my boat reading a book about old whaling captains and their crews. Did you know some of the captains took their wives with them on trips that lasted for years?”
I wasn’t going to be sidetracked. “Were you all alone?”
“Yes, they were alone. No other women on the ship,” Penny said. “Can you imagine raising children on a whaling ship?”
No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine raising children at all, let alone on a boat. Now, a cat, on the other hand—that was something I could imagine. Just the right level of responsibility for me to deal with.
I mentally shook myself. Somehow, Penny had managed to distract me. I was thinking about cats instead of Captain Dan’s murder. I was determined to get an answer to my question. “No, I meant were you alone?”
“Yes,” she said, frowning.
“So no one can vouch for you, Penny?”
Penny began to look irritated. “Not everyone lives with a husband or partner like you do, Mollie.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” I said quickly, realizing that my blunt questions weren’t having the desired effect. I’ve been told that subtlety is not my strong suit. “All I meant was that they asked us about our alibis and who could vouch for us. I was just curious if they asked you similar questions. I wasn’t sure if you had someone special in your life.”
Ben inched closer to Penny. “I guess we’re in the same boat. I don’t have anyone special. You don’t have anyone special. Neither of us has anyone to back up our alibis.”
Penny moved closer to me and farther from Ben. “Maybe we should do something to change that. Whaddya say we hit up happy hour tonight at the Tipsy Pirate?”
“Sorry, sugar, but I’ve got plans tonight,” Penny said.
Ben slumped on the bench. “Sure, I understand,” he said slowly.
Penny stood and clapped her hands together. “All right. Let’s get this show on the road and head back to the marina. I’ve got a million things to do this afternoon before my date.”
This time, I managed to stay dry, which made the boat ride more enjoyable. The gentle breeze and clear blue water didn’t hurt either. During the trip back, I remembered that Sandy had said that she had seen Penny at the marina on the night of the murder. Why did Penny say she was on her boat alone? Something wasn’t adding up.