Read Death of a Hot Chick Online

Authors: Norma Huss

Tags: #mystery, #ghost, #cozy mystery, #chesapeake bay, #boat

Death of a Hot Chick (5 page)

He leaned closer and chuckled. “Since when
is studying a social arrangement, hmmm?”

I kept eyes forward and one foot in front of
the other.

He easily kept pace, grinning a silly smile,
which I saw out of the corner of my eye. Maybe he thought it was a
come-on. “I’d really like some help with my studying,” he said with
an oh-so-sincere tone. “And if you’re taking this course, maybe you
have to study too, even if you were a boat captain once. Did you
get that section from last week? I figured we’d go over it again
today, but we didn’t. I’m confused. How about you?”

Had Brandon already forgotten that the week
before he’d volunteered to help the teacher explain things?


Let’s get this straight,” I said.
“You and I are not going to study together, have a beer together,
or do anything else except attend the same class to bone up on
requirements before taking the Coast Guard examination for a
captain’s license. Got it?”


You’re a hard woman. I like that.” He
chuckled, then bowed ceremoniously. “See you next Monday,” he said
and finally peeled off.

What was it with the guy? I was no appealing
sweet young thing. I wasn’t over the hill, but neither was I
anyone’s idea of a trophy date. A scrawny string bean instead of
slim with curves. And almost blonde, sure–but my hair was bleached
by hours in the sun, which also kept my complexion a bit too tan. A
man with money, like Brandon, didn’t go for public-school women.
Maybe he figured no one knew he was wealthy and I was just
protective coloring, like his clothes. None of that fooled anyone
in Smith Harbor. The neighborhood he lived in was a dead give-away.
He’d probably been one of the eligible bachelors at Nicole Joline’s
coming-out cotillion.

~
~

As soon as I stepped on the pier
headed toward
Snapdragon’s
slip, I saw Gregory Norris leaning against the piling. He was
another part of my past that I wanted to forget, the second of my
trio of poor choices. Okay, the first one was grade school, and
shouldn’t really count. But I refused to call Gregory my first
love. He was the senior who thrilled me, the lowly high school
sophomore, until I finally figured things out a whole four years
later. He was also the only one who hadn’t left me. I left him, but
he’d been in such an alcoholic haze, he probably hadn’t noticed.
And, of course, Gregory’s good buddy Al had been ready to step into
the void.


So this is where you hang out,” he
said.


Yeah, and guess what?
Snapdragon
is all mine and I’ve got
the paper to prove it.” I really didn’t want to see Gregory, but he
was in a position to hire me. That was another thing going for him.
Not only sober for three or four years, but owner of a charter
fleet that needed captains. And I could be one of them. Definitely
time to play nice. “Want to come aboard?”


Power? Not sail?”


Just getting her in shape to sell.” I
hesitated, then said, “She could be a good addition to your fleet.
Smaller than the others you own, but comfortable. Think of a
customer taking a non-fishing wife along. Put a TV inside, get a
dish and a digital conversion box. You could charge twice as much
for a couple.”

He chuckled. “Hey, think of fish guts all
over the carpeted salon deck. Think of the husband who goes fishing
to get away from his wife.”


Think of the newly-weds who can’t
stand being away from each other.” From his lop-sided grin and
shrug, I knew he wasn’t buying. I added, “I’m really wondering,
what will my boat be worth? Any idea?”


For my fishing fleet, not much. And
she’s too much boat to hand over to my Sea Scouts.” As he swung
over the rear railing he said, “She’s a hybrid, you know. Neither
fish nor fowl.”


But built for comfort.” I punched my
combination into the lock and led Gregory inside the cabin. I went
into tour mode. “The seats on each side convert into two single
beds. The V-berth in the bow has a thick mattress, but it’s covered
with junk right now. Looks like a garage just before the big
sale.”

Gregory took a peek. “Oh, boy.”


Yep, due for a big-time cleaning. I
think the main cabin needs a complete reworking. The little stove
is cute and seems to be in good shape. Maybe leave one of the
single folding beds and put up built-in storage along the other
side. I’d do that if I had the money. I can see advantages, but I
won’t be making any big changes. As it is, I’ll have to go to work
to afford her.”


Have you taken her out?”


I brought her in. She was at Bayside
Marina. After the end of the month, I’ll probably find a mooring.”
Or possibly snag a slip by Granny’s four-plex, but that wasn’t in
Smith Harbor.


Why not leave her here?”

No way would I go into the whole bit about a
gangster about to get out of jail. “Too expensive.” Hoping to
change the subject, I asked, “You said something about your Sea
Scouts? What’s that?”

However, he wasn’t diverted. “Too expensive?
But you bought her, you say?”


No, I didn’t say that. I
inherited
Snapdragon
. She was
Nicole Joline’s.”


As in the Nicole Joline who was just
murdered?”

I nodded. I knew the questions would keep
coming.


So how come?”


Long story.”


That’s all you’ve got to say,
right?”

So he remembered a few things about me.
“Right.”


Speaking of long stories, how are the
classes going? One of my captains moved to North Carolina. I could
use you right away.”

Was that the reason for his visit? “Another
week of classes, then I take the test. I’ll have to take the Red
Cross CPR test too.”

Gregory stepped down the two steps into the
V-berth. “Cozy,” he said with a smile that brought back unwelcome
memories. “Crowded now, but could be nice. How’d you end up with
the boat again?”

I hadn’t exactly told him, so “again,”
wasn’t the word he wanted. I remembered a few things from our past
too, like how persistent he was to counteract my stubbornness.
“Nicole couldn’t afford to pay me, so she sort of signed the boat
over to joint ownership. I have the title.”


Sort of? And the title, or some scrap
of paper that won’t stand up in court and doesn’t prove
anything?”

He had to pick out that, “sort of.” Why had
I mentioned that? “Nicole said it was legal. We even had a
witness.”


A boater who’s already on his way to
points north or south?”


Nope. The marina manager.”


Cyd, you need someone to watch over
you.” He licked his upper lip and added, “You really believe anyone
would give you a boat just for a little waxing and elbow
grease?”

I didn’t need the sarcasm, and if he wasn’t
a hiring captain, he’d be out of my life completely. I tried to
keep the snarl out of my voice, but probably failed. “You don’t
believe me? I’ll show you!” I pulled open the folded bed, grabbed
the book, and brought out the title. “See?”

He took a close look and even poked the
paper. “Wrinkled, but it looks okay.”


God damn right it
does.”


Who said that?” I whispered. No one
but Gregory in sight. Maybe I heard Nicole’s voice before. I didn’t
want to hear it now. But something moved in a corner. The shape was
almost formless.


I said it looks okay,” Gregory
repeated.


Ah... Can we do this
later?”

Gregory hesitated, then said, “What’s
wrong?”

I held my hands over my mouth, shook my
head. I couldn’t speak.

He lost that quick grin. “Yeah, I get it.
Too soon. And Al. He’ll always be between us, right?”

Silently, I watched him go. I pulled the
title toward me, then looked at the thing in the corner. It grew
from a crumpled lump. Stretched. Smiled at me.


Nicole. You’re dead.”


Tell me something I don’t
know. Like who the hell killed me. And why. Damn, this is the
absolute pits.”

I collapsed onto the settee. Shook my head.
Finally I said, “But you’re dead. I’ve never talked to a dead
person before.”


Get over it. I’ve never
been a dead person. You owe me. You’ve got my boat, and I need to
know who killed me. And why.”


I can’t. I never...” That had been
Nicole...the night she died. Nicole, telling me...what did she tell
me? Someone, no, “
he
” killed
her. Find him. And, what else? “Take it, it’s yours.” Even then I’d
known she’d meant the title—and the boat. And I took it. Right out
of her pocket. I’d slipped my hand inside the cold, wet pocket and
took.... I took the title, even knowing what she asked. I owed her.
But how....


So I guess this will be
the first time for both of us, right?”

I put my head down on my folded arms and
nodded. I closed my eyes. Maybe, when I looked up again, Nicole
would be gone.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

She wasn’t. Gone, that is.


Why me?” I asked. I didn’t expect
Nicole to answer, but she did.


Simple. I’m stuck with
you. You have my boat. You hear me. You. No one else hears
me.”


No one else?”


You helped me before. Ask
your sister. She knows.”

The ghost—Nicole—wasn’t making a lot of
sense. What did Kaye know? How could I have helped Nicole when I
didn’t know her? But, no one else heard her. “Did you see who
killed you? Who attacked you?”


If I knew that would I be
asking you?”


Okay, who were you going to get the
thirty dollars from? You must know that.”

Nicole’s answer came from a blurred
denim streak.
“Find him.”
Then
nothing. She was gone.


Nicole, come back.” I scanned the
settee surface, looked into the V-berth, walked to the hatch and
peered out, seeking something that was never there. I sat
cross-legged on the cabin sole and smoothed the title between my
fingers. The words hadn’t changed. “Nicole, the boat belongs to
you
or
me. You have to help
me. I can’t do it alone.”

But there was no answer, no strangely moving
pile of silk and denim.

Why did I have to have a nagging ghost, one
that I owed big time? According to her. But did I ask for her
boat?

I had
Snapdragon
, her part of the bargain. I had to
deliver a killer, but how?

~
~

Friday, July 21, early morning

Slim was an institution at Bayside Marina,
and before that, at Smith Harbor Marina. He was the weekend
sailor’s go-to guy, and the serious mariner’s life support. He
polished, sandpapered, and varnished. He cleaned, resurfaced, and
restored. And, he taught me everything I knew about taking care of
boats. Growing up with battling parents, I hung around the marina,
watched him turn a weathered sloop or dory into a shiny, seaworthy
craft. He tolerated my questions and finally gave me a job. “Wash
down that there hull that’s up on them jack stands,” he’d said. I
did. I’d gotten myself completely drenched. I could still feel the
absolute elation of the moment. After that, I was his number one
assistant.

I followed one bit of his advice with
my first boat right after I named her
Honey
.


You remember, gal,” he’d told me, “no
matter how new, or how old a boat be, you test her out
yourself.”

I’d been busy cleaning
Snapdragon
, but today, whether she
was mine or not, I would follow his advice.

First on my agenda was the power plant. The
engine was recessed under the floor boards. I opened the lift-up
panel and checked for leaks, rust, and any corrosion. Wiped down
everything. Things were a bit oily, so I worked on that a while.
Checked thru-hulls. Made sure the in-take was open to provide water
to cool the engine. Checked the diesel level.

Time for the engine trial, but I
hesitated. It hadn’t sounded so hot when Nicole had me bring
Snapdragon
to the marina. I turned on
the marine radio and made sure it worked by tuning into the weather
and hailing channels. Finally, I pressed the starter. Now it
was
Snapdragon’s
turn to
hesitate, but after a cough or two, she started. Sounded pretty
good. I kept her in neutral and revved her up, then down, then up
again. Finally I settled into a low neutral and listened. That’s
when she coughed a bit more and rattled.

I shut her off before she died.

Something was definitely wrong.
Possibly the fuel filter. Maybe a leaking air hose. I knew just
enough to know that I didn’t know everything.
Snapdragon
needed a professional overhaul and my
expertise certainly didn’t extend
that
far.

I tracked Wes down heading for the
Travelift. First I asked if he had any work I could do. He didn’t
bother answering. I followed him, nagging all the way. “Varnishing?
Teak? Clean-up?”

He just kept walking.


I’m hoping we can trade work. That
is, if Bayside hasn’t taken all your jobs.” He didn’t reply to that
either. “How much to overhaul
Snapdragon’s
engine?”

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