Dead Tide (Blackmoore Sisters Romantic Cozy Mystery Series) Page 3

  The long, empty hallway stretched out on either side of them. Celeste looked for Mateo, but he was nowhere in sight.

  “Where’d that guy go?” Morgan’s eyebrows creased together. “I was wondering if we should pump him for information. If he was Skinner’s colleague maybe he knows what this important find is all about.”

  Celeste frowned. “Maybe. But if he was a colleague and really did work here, then why did he run out of here as soon as we heard Beasley and Overton in the hall?”

  “Good question." Morgan slid her eyes down the hall.

  Celeste’s heart sank as she looked over her shoulder at the office door. “Well, I guess this was a big fat bust. We didn’t get anything.”

  “We can’t go back in there now and Overton’s going to have it sealed off, so now what do we do?”

  Celeste grabbed Morgan's arm and started down the hall. “First we need to get out of here before Overton sees us. Then we do the only thing we can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Come up with plan B.”

  Chapter Five

  “If the book and notes aren’t in his office, then where are they?” Jolene asked, scooping some salsa from the colorful bowl on their backyard patio table onto a chip and popping it into her mouth.

  Celeste looked at her younger sister, a frown creasing her face. “I have no idea, but I’m betting he would have stored them someplace safe because he thought this find was important.”

  “So maybe a safety deposit box, or a safe at his house?” Fiona fished a beer out of the ice-filled cooler sitting beside her chair and popped the top off, flipping it into an empty planter they kept for recyclables. The empty planter sat at the end of a long row of colorful potted flowers blending perfectly into the lush garden atmosphere the girls had worked so hard to create. Belladonna leapt onto the planter, fished out the cap and started batting it around the patio.

  “Possibly. But if so, then how do we get them?” Celeste looked across the patio toward the river that was the entrance to Perkins Cove, feeling blessed to have such a scenic view right in their own backyard.

  Their property was set up high on a cliff that came to a point where the Atlantic Ocean met the cove entrance. To the left was the open ocean, to the right the wide channel leading to the cove. At the point was a narrow opening that had to be navigated carefully to get into the safety of the cove.

  If she craned her neck she could just see part of Perkins Cove about one eighth mile away. The white, wooden drawbridge framed the entrance to the cove which widened out beyond and was dotted with boats—many of them weather beaten New England lobster boats still in use by the fishermen that made their living on the cold Maine waters.

  To the right of the cove was a small shopping area lined with cedar shingled fishermen’s shacks. Some of them were the original shacks from a hundred years ago, now converted to quaint boutiques and restaurants. She couldn’t see the stores from where she sat, but her mouth watered at the smell of fried clams and she could hear the sound of seagulls crying for the tourists to throw them some of their dinner.

  “Maybe we can talk to his family … someone must be in charge of his estate now. We could tell them he was working on a project for us and has a valuable book.” Morgan swigged her beer. “That sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?”

  “And if that doesn’t work, maybe we can go undercover and pretend we are from the museum … or Jake and I can sharpen our private investigator skills and make a special visit inside his house," Jolene said crunching down on another chip.

  Celeste, Morgan and Fiona raised their eyebrows at her. The sisters were glad that Jolene was going to assist Fiona’s boyfriend, Jake in his new P.I. business. But they were a bit worried about her attraction for doing things that were a bit outside the law.

  As if on cue, Jake came strolling around the house, a six pack of beer in his hand. Celeste’s heart warmed at the way Fiona’s face lit up when she saw him. Over the summer both Fiona and Morgan had found true love—Fiona with Jake and Morgan with her high school sweetheart, Luke Hunter. Celeste wished nothing like that for herself—her parent’s premature deaths had taught her you can’t depend on anyone. Still, she was thrilled for her older sisters.

  “So, should we hire another historian then? Even though we don’t have the poetry book to use as the cipher key?” Fiona asked as Jake scraped a lawn chair across the patio, pushing the back against the table and straddling it with his long legs. He leaned his muscular, tanned forearms on the table, his fist curled around an open beer.

  “Well, if you do, you might be signing his death warrant," he said, then casually took a sip of beer.

  Celeste’s stomach tightened as the four sisters turned their heads toward him.

  “Death warrant? What are you talking about?” Fiona scrunched her face at him.

  “Your last historian—Reinhardt Skinner—didn’t die of a heart attack,” Jake said. “He was murdered.”

  ***

  Celeste’s brows knit together. “That’s impossible. I was sitting right there when he died. He had a heart attack.”

  Jake put down his beer. “It might have looked that way, but my sources in the police department tell me the medical examiner found poison in his blood. The symptoms looked like he had a heart attack, but it was the poison that killed him.”

  Celeste stared at him trying to process the information.

  Could Jake be wrong?

  A former police detective from Boston, the girls had met Jake when he moved to Noquitt to join their small police department. He’d been instrumental in helping Morgan clear her name when she’d been falsely accused of murder. He’d also helped them fend off the treasure hunters who had somehow known there was a treasure to be found on the property and had descended on them this past summer.

  Jake was a good guy, which was probably why he and Sheriff Overton had never gotten along. He’d quit the force—actually he’d been forced off by Overton—a few months back. Celeste knew his instincts were good and he wouldn’t pass along information like that unless he was sure.

  “But why would someone want to kill him?” she asked.

  “Could it have been accidental?” Morgan raised an eyebrow at Jake while she picked at the paper label on her beer.

  “No. That was what I thought, too, but they said there’s no way he could have taken that poison by accident," Jake answered.

  “I don’t get it. He was such a nice old man. Why would anyone do that to him?”

  “Well, isn’t it obvious?” Jolene peered at Celeste over her sunglasses. “He told you at lunch that the journal held some information with historical and financial importance. Obviously someone didn’t want him telling you exactly what that was.”

  “But no one else knew he was onto something,” Celeste argued.

  “Except that guy we saw in his office.” Morgan cut her eyes to Celeste.

  Celeste chewed her bottom lip. “He did seem to know that Skinner was working for us. But he didn’t seem to know the details.”

  “Come to think of it, how did he even know who we were?” Morgan asked.

  Celeste’s stomach tightened. “He said that Skinner had told him about our case, but maybe he confused us with someone else. Skinner swore to me that he wouldn’t tell anyone what he was working on.”

  “Wait a minute," Jake cut in. “What guy?”

  “We went to Skinner’s office today to try to find his notes and the poetry book, and this mysterious guy was there. He acted like he knew what Skinner was working on but also seemed like he was fishing for details,” Celeste said.

  “He said his name was Mateo and that he was a ‘colleague,’” Morgan added.

  “Maybe Jolene and I should check him out.” Jake shrugged at Jolene. “It would be good practice for our first case.”

  Jolene’s face lit up. “Yeah, I can pay a visit to the museum and see if I can find out more information on him.”

  “You guys have a case?” Morgan cut
in.

  Jake smiled. “Yeah, just a small one for us to cut our teeth on. A cheating spouse. It should be easy … and safe, but a good way for Jo to get some experience. And, of course, the business can use the money.”

  “Well congratulations,” Morgan said, then turned to Jolene. “Just be careful about that Mateo guy. If he’s anything like those treasure hunters that came this past summer, he could be very dangerous.”

  “Do you think it could be those same guys?” Jolene asked.

  “I thought they were all killed in the explosion.” Fiona nodded in the direction of the hole that had been blown in their yard.

  “Maybe there are more where they came from," Jake said.

  Celeste’s heart sank. The treasure hunters had been ruthless killers … if they, or someone like them, were after something they thought the Blackmoore girls had, it could get ugly.

  “Well, the way I see it, we only have one choice," Morgan said, peeling another strip of the label from her beer bottle.

  “What’s that?” Jolene asked.

  “We need to figure out what Skinner was on to and get to it before someone else comes to find it.”

  “And how do we do that? The key to the cipher is missing and we have no idea where in the journal Skinner made this big find,” Fiona said.

  “Plus, I don’t trust hiring anyone we don’t know. I didn’t realize the journal would have anything important in it … but in light of what happened to Skinner, it seems like there is. I don’t know who we can trust,” Celeste added.

  “I do,” Morgan said grabbing another beer from the cooler. “We have our own history expert who’s practically a member of the family.”

  “Cal Reed!” The other girls chorused.

  “Great idea.” Celeste wondered why she hadn’t thought of calling their childhood friend who was a history buff and antique expert. “I’ll talk to him first thing tomorrow.”

  Morgan put her beer down and leaned into the table. The serious look on her face made Celeste’s stomach sink. The words she said next caused a chill to run up her spine.

  “We all need to be extra careful from here on in. If these people poisoned Skinner to keep this information secret, there’s no telling what they’ll do to us.”

  Chapter Six

  Celeste slid the plastic tray onto the picnic table being careful not to tip over the hotdogs that sat upright in their thin cardboard containers. She sat on the wooden bench seat, feeling the sun warm her back as she scanned the parking lot.

  To her left, the Hot Dog Shack was in full swing. The roadside stand was aptly named—it really was a small shack, probably older than Celeste but newly painted in crisp white with red trim. The three windows for ordering stood open with lines at each. Tourists that didn’t know any better might pass the Hot Dog Shack over because it looked like a dive, but the truth was they had the best hot dogs on the East Coast. The lines were always long and the picnic tables that provided the only seating for dining always full.

  Celeste had chosen a table far away from the shack, near a stand of trees whose leaves were in the middle of changing from green to orange and yellow. She could smell the earthy, crisp scent of fall and hear the squirrels and chipmunks rustling beneath the trees, gathering their cache of nuts for the long winter.

  A smile tugged at the corners of her lips when she saw Cal’s vintage 1970 candy apple red Ford Mustang pull into the parking lot. He’d spend the better part of last year restoring the car and it was his pride and joy.

  He wore faded jeans and a sweatshirt and managed to capture the attention of most of the female patrons. Celeste laughed to herself as she watched their heads turn to watch him. It wasn’t unusual to see this type of reaction. With his tall frame, broad shoulders and boyish good looks, Calvin Reed was a girl magnet. It had been that way since they were teens, although their friendship went back even before that.

  Cal’s way with women was actually a joke among the Blackmoore girls. And it wasn’t only his good looks that attracted them. His family business Reed Pawn and Antiques had done very well and Cal was quite wealthy. Combine those with the fact that he was smart, charming and nice and it was no wonder that he was considered the area’s most eligible bachelor. He could have his pick of women … and usually did. But Celeste always wondered why his relationships never lasted very long.

  Cal saw her and headed straight to the table, barely noticing the attention from the women. He was used to it by now.

  Celeste pushed the tray toward him. “Got your favorite—a chili dog with extra onions.”

  Cal rewarded her with his crooked smile—the one that made his sapphire blue eyes sparkle and accentuated his dimple. The one that she’d seen him use, quite successfully, to charm many women. As he reached for the hot dog, she noticed his dark tan.

  “Did you just get back from somewhere tropical?” she said as she bit into her jalapeño cheese dog.

  “Barbados.” He wiped a glob of chili from the corner of his mouth.

  “Oh, with Janine?” Celeste frowned wondering if she’d gotten the name of his latest girlfriend right.

  “Nah, we broke up a while ago. This one was Camilla. Try to keep up, will you?” he teased.

  “Well, whoever it was, I hope you had a good time.”

  Cal shrugged reaching for one of the tall paper cups of soda she’d bought.

  “So what’s this all about?” He took a long sip through his straw.

  She told him about Skinner being poisoned, their visit to his office and their fears that they might now be in danger from whoever wanted this big find.

  As she talked, Celeste noticed the other women were still staring at him, but Cal seemed totally unaware of their attention. His attention was solely on her as if she was the only person that existed. That was one of the things she appreciated most about him—even though he’d never had a romantic interest in any of the Blackmoore girls, he’d always put their friendship first over any prospective dates.

  “So there’s a real treasure? I thought those caves were empty—the treasure dug up and spent generations ago?” Cal said referring to the warren of passages and caves they’d discovered on their property during the hunt for treasure earlier in the summer. Her sister Morgan had been captured by the treasure hunters and held in one of the caves. She’d escaped by the skin of her teeth just before the whole network of caves and passages had been blown up when the treasure hunters had accidentally tripped the booby trap.

  “I guess so. He never got to tell me any details, but he did say it could be historically important and worth a lot of money.” Celeste shoved the last of her hot dog into her mouth.

  Cal’s eyes were bright with interest. “So you want me to help figure out the journal?”

  Celeste nodded. If anyone could help them figure it out, it was Cal. He’d been the one who knew it was a book cipher and he’d helped her decipher some of the passages which led to the whole ill-fated treasure hunt in the first place. She’d known it was a long shot there would be clues to even bigger things in the book—when the treasure hunters had blown up the caves her sisters had thought the treasure was gone and there was not really much use for the book.

  They’d hired Skinner out of curiosity to get some insight into their sailing merchant ancestor Isaiah Blackmoore. They figured it would be an account of his travels—she never imagined any of that would be worth killing over.

  Celeste swallowed the last of her hot dog and wiped her mouth with a small paper napkin. “There’s one problem though … the poetry book is missing.”

  “But that’s the key. Without it, there’s no way to figure out what the journal says.”

  “We’re trying to get it back.” Celeste shrugged.

  “Maybe we can find another one on the internet or something?” Cal offered. “Do you remember the name and edition? I could put some feelers out to the antique book dealers I know.”

  Celeste felt her spirits rise. “That’s a great idea. In the mean time I was thi
nking we should poke around up in the attic and see if we can dig up anything else that might give us a clue.”

  Cal sipped his soda, nodding enthusiastically. Cal was an antique expert and Celeste knew how much he loved going in their attic which was loaded with generations of family cast-offs.

  Celeste remembered the stern warnings about the attic her mother had given them when they were little. They were all scared to go up there. When they got older, they never paid much attention to it thinking it was just filled with a bunch of old junk. But when Morgan was accused of murder, they needed funds for a lawyer. Fiona had ventured up and come back with a valuable necklace and the discovery of the journal.

  They’d eventually made a few more trips up and discovered other items which Cal had helped them appraise. Celeste had always assumed that her mother didn’t want them to go up there when they were little because she was afraid they might get hurt with all the junk up there … but in light of what had been happening, she was beginning to think her mother might have had other reasons to want them to stay out.

  “When do you want to get started?” Cal’s question pulled her out of her thoughts.

  “As soon as we can. If those treasure hunters are the ones that killed Skinner, then it won’t take long for them to do something else … and you know what that means.”

  “Yeah, big danger,” Cal said. “We should start right away—tonight.”

  Cal pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just gotta cancel something …”

  “A date?” Celeste asked.

  Cal nodded as he punched in some numbers.

  Celeste’s heart crunched—she didn’t want him to give up his social commitments for them. “Oh, don’t cancel a date for us!”

  Cal put his hand over hers and Celeste felt a strange tingle go up her arm.

  “No worries,” he said. “You’re more important than some date … and my heart wasn’t really in it anyway.”