Murder At Tropical Cove Marina (Cozy Mystery) (Sea Cozy Mysteries Book 1) (3 page)

CHAPTER 4

 

It had been a long night so I took a nice long hot bath and went to bed early. I didn’t sleep well. I tossed and turned all night, thinking about Robert’s death. Also, there were bright streaks of lightning and loud thunder from thunderstorms throughout the night that would awaken me with a jolt. Most every time there is a bad thunderstorm, our area loses its electricity for an hour or so—don’t ask me why—but last night we were lucky for some reason. When I awoke the next morning, I forced myself out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen to make myself a pot of coffee. While I was waiting for the coffee to drip its caffeine-laden goodness into the carafe, I pulled my curtains open to catch the sunrise. The few remaining clouds—stragglers left over from the night’s thunderstorm—reflected the orange-red glow of the just rising sun. The reflection off the waters of the harbor combined to create a breathtakingly picturesque sunrise.
I really should take up oil painting
, I thought. The scenery from my fifth-floor condo overlooking the Gulf of Mexico on one side and the harbor on the other just seemed too good to waste. For the thousandth time, I thought of how fortunate I was to be living in Florida, and not freezing in the frigid north where many of my marina customers made their homes. After draining two cups of strong coffee, I got dressed and headed to work.

Once I arrived at the marina, there was lots of chaos and people milling around talking about Robert’s death and the investigation—“W
as he murdered? Did he commit suicide? What is Carol going to do now?
” My father grabbed his cane and went out and reassured people that everything would be okay. He informed people that the Police would be following protocol and would be questioning individuals that would have any tips or leads to the case. He also reassured them that he would be installing a video surveillance camera on the docks so this sort of thing would not happen again. Busy as my father had been this morning, he was able to scribble down a note. I deciphered his chicken, scratch “
Ralph called in sick.
” I groaned and mumbled to myself, “Not again.” Ralph is our grounds keeper and maintenance fellow and not a very reliable worker. He calls off at least one day per week, which is very inconvenient to our operation. That was why I was in the process of hiring another maintenance worker.

But until I found someone to replace him, I had to pick up the slack. I did the rounds: I needed to collect the trash, spray down the docks, and pick up some of the fronds that fell from the palm trees during last night’s thunderstorm. To make the work a little easier, my father just bought a golf cart to tool around the premises. It makes the work get done twice as fast; you can easily get to your destination quickly, and carry heavy items back and forth from the office to the docks. My father loved the golf cart, he tooled around a lot—said it is better for his hips and knees rather than walking. As I drove the golf cart to the trash can right before you enter the docks, I waved hello to Bettie, a new boater in the community. She and her husband are retired and planned an excursion all along the coast of Florida stopping at as many marinas as they can before they reached their final destination: ‘The Keys’. She is a little eccentric and a busybody but other than that she seemed nice.

I waved my hand in front of my nose as I approached the smelly, fishy trashcan. As I put my gloves on I thought, “
Boy, why do those fisherman have to throw their old bait and half rotted fish in our trash can. It sure can stink up the area? One of these days, I will have to get around to putting up a sign. One that says, ‘Trash Can For Marina Patrons Only, No Fish or Bait’.”
I held my breath and pulled out the black plastic bag from the trash and as I was doing so the bottom of the plastic bag broke through.

“Aaargh! Just my luck,” I grumbled to myself.

As I reached into the cart for my broom, I heard “Hey Maddie, ya’ll need some help, I can give ya’ll a hand.”

“Oh, hey there Shawn.”

“Ya’ll can call me Croc if you like.”

“Sure. Thanks for the help, Sha—er, I mean, Croc. Just my luck things aren’t going so great today.”

As we both picked up the trash that had fallen on the ground, I noticed several bottles of empty teak oil. “It looks like someone has been busy cleaning up the wood on their boat.”

Croc replied, “Yeah, over the weekend it looks like Robert was helpin’ Ms. Johnson work. They was sandin’ and stainin’ the wood slats of her hatch.

“Oh really?” I thought to myself, “
That thing was sure becoming an eyesore.”
Over the past two years, she let the boat sit in the salty waters allowing the sun to bake it, rotting away the once so beautiful, brightwork and teak hatch. What was even worse was the hull; it was covered in a multitude of barnacles and clusters of oysters, some of which were the size of my fist.

“They all looked sort of chummy if ya catch my drift,” Croc replied, with a knowing smile.

“Looked chummy? What do you mean? I responded.

“Well, y’know all laughin’ and flirtin’ and carryin’ on like.” Croc answered.

I frowned. “He’s married, you know.”

“You don’t say. Really?” His comment was dripping with sarcasm. He gave a chuckle, “Wouldn’t have known by lookin’ at em.”

“I wonder where Carol was,” I said out loud to myself.

“Who?” Croc asked, interrupting my thought.

“Oh sorry, I was just talking to myself. Carol’s his wife.”

“Oh, her?” Prob’ly readin’ herself some more bible scriptures. I tell you, that lady done read so much it turned her hair totally white!” He laughed at his own joke.

Despite myself, I gave a giggle. Croc had a way about him that just made you want to laugh. “I don’t think it works that way, Croc.”

“Yes it does. I tell ya. Every time you read a book, another hair goes white.”

I looked at his dark hair. “You don’t have any gray hair.”

He puffed out his chest with pride. “That’s right. I ain’t never read no book, neither.” We both laughed.

As we finished cleaning up the remaining trash from the ground, I said, “You know what, you’re just the person I wanted to see today.”

“Lucky me. Maybe this was a sign from above. Whatcha ya’ll need”?

His earnest puppy-dog look caught me by surprise, and for a moment I lost my train of thought. When I recovered, I said, “Anyway, I met Gregg and Candy yesterday at the Crab House. He said he overhead you talking to Robert, something about Robert getting in an argument with Guz. Do you know what happened”?

“Aah yeah, Robert started over the past few months goin’ out catchin’ for some of the local seafood restaurants. Robert wanted to pick up a little extra cash.”

“Would that be fishing?”

“Aah crabbin’, stone crabbin’ in fact. So apparently, he took his barrel of fresh claws over to the Crab House but for some reason or ‘nother they got in a spat over the size of the crab claws and so on and so forth. Robert and Guz walked out back and Robert got very upset with Guz, said he threw some of the claws at Guz and stormed out. Guz told him to not come back to the restaurant ever. When I saw Robert that evening, he was steamed. You could see the smoke coming out his ears.” Croc gave a little chuckle as he continued talking. “Last I saw of Robert, he said he was gonna have some drinks and relax on his boat. Ya ask me, he already had a few too many, though. And that was the last I heard from him. Next I hear, he’s done and died, poor guy.”

Listening to Croc’s description of what had happened, it sounded unusually out of character for the usually affable man to get so angry. I said, “ It sure seems like Robert was acting very strangely last night. I’ll have to get Guz’s side of the story. I plan on seeing Guz Wednesday afternoon at the Seafood Jamboree Meeting.”

“Yeah. I hear ya’ll are hostin’ it, this year.”

“News travels fast in this town
,” I thought. “That’s right. Both Guz and I are hosting the 4
th
annual Seafood Jamboree festival. It’ll be held next month,” I announced. “So come check it out. I want it to be the best year, ever.”

“You got it, Maddie. I ain’t missed one yet.”

“Give a few sailing lessons with your MacGregor? Huh?”

“Weeelll…Maybe. I’ll think about it. I think so.”

“Sounds good,” I replied, eager to get some more activities lined up.

“Hey Maddie, do ya’ll wanna come tomorrow with Gregg and me catchin’? We are one man short. You can see how crabbin’ works. And ya’ll can get some free crab legs. Can’t beat that with a stick, can ya?”

I couldn’t very well turn him down right after asking for a favor, and it sounded like fun, so I agreed. “Crab legs sounds tasty. Thanks for asking. That really sounds like fun. I’ll take advantage of your offer. Hopefully, it will take my mind off things. Thanks again, Croc. What time should I meet you?”

“Be here tomorrow mornin’ at 5 sharp. We will be heading out in Gregg’s Boston Whaler.”

“Okaley Dokely,” I said and gave a chuckle.

“Ya’ll have a nice afternoon, Maddie,” as he waved bye and headed to the community room.

I finished the rounds and parked the cart by the dumpster. As I headed back to the office my phone started to ring. It was Ethan. “Hey Ethan, what’s up?”

His sober voice was in sharp contrast to my cheerful greeting. “Maddie, we think that Robert was poisoned. His blood alcohol level was through the roof.”

“Yes. I heard he was drinking pretty heavily that night. But why poison? I mean—“

“The alcohol didn’t kill him, but it did knock him out. And they, uh, also found a substance in his stomach that probably caused him to vomit while unconscious. It caused pulmonary aspiration, which led to his death. And get this: The substance found in his stomach consisted of some sort of Petroleum Distillates. We are sending the substance to the chemical lab now to narrow down the product.”

“What was that? Petro…..Dital…. I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Petroleum Distillates,” Ethan responded.

Isn’t that in kerosene, oils, and such? I’ve seen that ingredient on a can of something or other before,” I babbled.

“Uh, yeah. It is, Maddie. Sorry, I got to take another call.” Ethan disconnected.

“Ok,” I said to myself.

I returned to my cart, pulled out the garbage bag, and tossed it into the dumpster. When I was done, I noticed some brown, sticky, gooey substance on my glove. I lifted my glove to my nose and the spot had a strong, oily, chemical smell. I tried to recall the Peto…Dis and what I had seen the ingredient on but was having trouble concentrating
. “Am I having another one of those brain farts?
” I thought to myself. I have been experiencing quite a few of those as I have been entering menopause, along with those annoying hot flashes. Oh yeah, It was finally coming to me. My father and I refurbished an old 32 ft Catalina a couple of years ago and we refinished the wood using teak oil. She turned out to beauty after we were done. I had to retrieve the bag from the dumpster so I could dig through it to find what I was looking for. I grabbed one of the empty bottles of teak oil and turned the bottle over to read the ingredients.
Harmful or Fatal if swallowed. Danger: Contains Petroleum Distillates. Call Physician immediately. Do not use near heat, sparks or open flame. Use only in well ventilated areas
.

I immediately called Ethan. I got his voice mail, “This is Maddie, call me back immediately. The substance may be teak oil.”

CHAPTER 5

 

I put the bag with the teak oil in the golf cart. While I was doing so, Carol exited the day room.

“Hi, Maddie. God blessed us with another beautiful day.”

“He sure did. Hey, out of curiosity, did you know that Robert would be working with Ms. Johnson on her boat?”

“Yeah, I was a little upset about it. Maddie, I never told anyone this, but I got jealous a lot over Ms. Johnson. We all became friends and such but sometimes I’d get that burning rage of jealousy deep down in my soul. I prayed to the Lord Jesus every time she was around my husband to take away my jealousy and for Robert to not commit adultery.”

“I understand, Carol. Ms. Johnson was pretty nice looking. And the short shorts and tank tops were pretty revealing.” I thought of Ms. Johnson’s large breasts and the way she seemed to delight in enticing men. A woman would have to be a saint to
not
feel jealous. “But, I think God was listening to your prayers, though.”

“Thanks for understanding, Maddie.”

I realized this was a perfect opportunity to help Ethan out with his investigation. Trying to sound casual, I asked, “Where did you go the day they were working on Ms. Johnson boat?”

“I went out shoppin’. I had to get some thread and some groceries. Then I got a call from Robert. He said they were running low on teak oil and could I get some while I was out. I told them I could swing by Nate’s Nautical and pick them up some,” Carol explained.

A thrill went up my spine when I heard the words ‘teak oil’. “How many did you get?”

“They needed two more bottles but I also got a spare just in case. So three. Why?” Carol asked.

“Oh, no reason. Just curious,” I replied. “Did you know that they found a substance in Robert’s stomach? It looks like he was poisoned.”

“Oh dear God, what was it?” As Carol placed her hands over her mouth.

“I replied, a substance that contains petro…leum dis..tillates. I hope I pronounced that right. It’s in teak oil.”

“Teak oil? Wait. Do they think that Ms. Johnson might have something to do with it?” The eyes of the little white-haired woman became hard, and a furrow appeared in her brow. She was angry.

“No no no. Nothing like that,” I hurried to explain, cursing myself for my carelessness. “They don’t know yet, they still are investigating and questioning people.”

Carol took a deep breath and muttered what sounded like a prayer. “Forgiveness is what this world is about. If Ms. Johnson committed the sin, I will need to forgive her just like God does with us. Matthew 6, verse 14 says:
For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.

I was amazed that someone could be so forgiving. I know I could never manage it. “So true Carol, So true,” I said.

“Maddie, thanks for fillin’ me in and listenin’. I’ll see you later. I need to get back to my boat and catch up on a few things.”

Instead of throwing the bags away, I took them to the boater’s day room and locked them in the maintenance closet so I could give them to Ethan to analyze.

When Ethan called back he said, “I got your message and the chemical lab did confirm the product as teak oil.”

Guess what Ethan.  I found out from Croc that Robert and Ms. Johnson might have had a fling going on between them. And that Robert apparently got in a argument at Guz’s restaurant, and—”

“Slow down, Maddie. Take a few deep breaths. Are the teak oil bottles still in the dumpster? I have to get them before the dumpster’s emptied.”

“I already took them out. I’ve got them in storage.”

He chuckled. “Maddie, you’re a wonder, I ever tell you that? Why don’t I swing by and pick you up and drop the evidence off at the Police Department? Once we drop the evidence off, how about we take off and head North to Tarpon Bay to pay a friendly visit to Ms. Johnson. Does that sound like a plan?” Ethan said.

“Sure, sounds great,” I answered, already planning what I would wear. “
This is just like that show…what was it? Scarecrow and Mrs. King
,” I thought, feeling a warm glow at the thought of being in a crime-solving partnership with Ethan. I disconnected and got ready for our little excursion.

As I waited for Ethan, Fed Ex showed up with a package addressed to Carol Clive. I signed for it and walked it down to her boat. As I was walking down, I happened to glance at the package and the sender’s name. It was from R.A. Life Insurance and Beneficiaries and addressed to Mrs. Robert Clive. I thought to myself, “
That sure seems quick. She didn’t even have time to mourn the death of her husband yet, but she is already working on the insurance.”
I was struck with the thought that it seemed awfully suspicious and that maybe Carol wasn’t quite as innocent as she acted. The second I thought it I pushed it out of my mind. There was no possible way for the strait-laced widow to be involved in anything improper.

I stood outside her boat and raised my voice. “Excuse me, Carol, are you in there? I have a package for you from Fed Ex.” There was no answer. “Ahoy, Captain. Permission to come aboard.” I stepped onto her boat carefully, as the waves were causing the boat to rock, and carelessness could result in a non-scheduled bath in cold saltwater. I knocked on her hatch. She didn’t answer so I slipped it between the slats of her cabin hatch and exited her boat.

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