Cracked to Death (16 page)

Amanda nodded quietly and gathered her things to leave. “I'm sorry. I won't keep secrets anymore.” With that said, she headed to the display room and walked out the front door. She left a large silence behind.

Chapter 25

 

“I've decided we must continue running our investigation without Amanda,” Savannah announced to the rest of the group. “She's too emotionally involved to help right now. There is also the distinct possibility that she may be picked up for questioning at any moment. I sent her to spend some time with her mother.”

After Amanda's revealing confession, Savannah and Edward had left Webb's and had driven over to the studio to bring Jacob up to speed. They now sat around the conference table, feeling Amanda's absence.

Jacob pulled Suzy onto his lap and began to stroke her head. “We can investigate without her. It will not be as quick, because she is wicked fast on the computer.”

Edward grimaced. “True. None of us are as quick”—he smiled at the others—“but we are wicked persistent. Let's get on with it.”

“Great lecture.” Savannah stood with her hands on her hips. “Let's review and regroup. Wow!” Savannah ran a hand through her hair. “We've basically worked almost all these leads with not a lot to show for it. This is discouraging. One new element is that Vicki and Martin were also secretly engaged. That means we must find out where Vicki was on Monday night. Since Vicki was the social media partner in the craft business, Amanda would have been a great help. I can also ask Detective Parker not only about Amanda but about Vicki, too.”

“Another avenue is Captain Collins,” said Edward. “We didn't get much from our first visit. We can follow up on that.”

“I can go to the main library and investigate where the bottles were found on the sea floor. Suzie is allowed in there. One of the librarians likes to help me with research,” said Jacob. “There's a bus stop right in front of the library.”

“Good idea. I don't know when I'm going to hear from the experts. It will be a big help to have information now rather than later. Edward and I have visited Martin's trailer and talked to two of his neighbors. They didn't mention anything about an argument between Martin and Amanda, but maybe they didn't want to say anything to strangers.”

“Which means they might have reported it to the police,” said Edward.

“Another subject for Detective Parker. I can also tell him that we've talked to Captain Collins. That didn't pan out, but he might not know about his connection to Martin.”

Jacob chimed in. “That Vicki person might also know. She worked with Martin on his art projects.”

“This is a lot harder than I thought. It seems like all our investigations are leading us around in circles.” Savannah sat at the end of the table and folded her arms across her chest.

Edward reached over and tapped her on the elbow. “You're forgetting about what happened in our prior investigations. We got to a point like this, when everything seemed to be mired in tail chasing. Then we got a break, and things worked out very quickly afterward.”

“I remember. So we're in the middle muddle?”

“I prefer to believe we're about to get the resolving lead.”

“You're such an optimist.”

Jacob frowned and held Suzy a little tighter. “I'm going to the library before they close.” Rather than make an exit, Jacob lingered, concern etched on his face.

“Let's meet back here in the morning and see what we've got. Thanks, Jacob.”

Edward pulled the conference room telephone toward him after Jacob left the room. “Let's call the captain first. He'll be the most difficult.”

Savannah pulled a card out of her backpack. “Here's the number.” She sat in the chair next to Edward, letting their thighs touch for a moment.

He smiled at her as he dialed the number. “I'll put it on speaker.”

After seven rings, the call rolled over to voice mail. Edward left a message, asking the captain to call him back at the studio number, and hung up.

“I'm confused,” Savannah said. “Why didn't you leave your cell number?”

“I don't know. It didn't feel right to give him so much information about me. I bottled out.”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. It's an expression we use in England when someone chickens out.”

“Weirdly appropriate.” She reached for the telephone. “Let's try Vicki. Be ready to cover your ears. She curses like a sailor.” She dialed Vicki's number.

“Vicki's Treasures. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Vicki. This is Savannah Webb. You're on speakerphone. Remember me? My friend Amanda Blake and I asked you some questions about Martin.”

“Are you really such an idiot? I told you not to harass me.”

“I merely want to ask if you know where Martin got his bottles.”

“If you call me again, I'm going to file a formal complaint and get you thrown in jail. Don't call me again.” The dial tone followed immediately.

Edward frowned. “She can't do that, can she?”

“She can certainly call Detective Parker and complicate my life by complaining to him. That could jeopardize my consulting status.”

“He'll ignore her.”

“I hope so. But it still doesn't give us anything to go on for finding the buried treasure location of the bottles.” Savannah jotted a few lines in the notebook she had placed on the table at the beginning of the meeting.

A sharp knock on the conference-room door made both Savannah and Edward turn their heads. Arthur poked his head in the room.

“Sorry, Savannah, but can you show me where you keep your supplies?” His neck turned pink, and the color raced up to his hairline. “The bathroom needs more . . . supplies.”

Savannah pressed her lips into a tight line. “I'll be right back.”

Arthur backed away from the door. “Sorry to interrupt your meeting.”

“It's no trouble. I should have shown you where everything was kept on your first day,” she said as she headed in the direction of the bathroom.

“Are you guys investigating another murder?”

“Well, yes, in a minor way. I'm helping Detective Parker as a consultant with a glass bottle that was found with a murder victim. How are you doing with your studio space? Is it helping you at all?”

She opened a small metal cabinet next to the bathroom. It was stocked with paper towels, tissue boxes, and toilet paper, along with an assortment of cleaning supplies and rags.

“Wow. G-good.” Arthur stared. “This is great.”

Savannah sensed his hesitation. “Just find what you need. I'm going back to my meeting.”

When she returned to the conference room, Jacob had also returned. He and Edward were discussing the logistics of going to the library. She stood in the doorway and let them come to the inevitable conclusion when Jacob was involved. He was not going to get on Edward's motorcycle and leave Suzy in the shop.

“I am not allowed to be without Suzy. There is no room on your motorcycle, and it would not be safe for me to hold her.” His voice was strong and it had the low range of a teenager transitioning to adulthood.

She leaned against the doorknob and waited until they both looked at her. “Jacob has an excellent point. Take my Mini. I'm going to be working in here.” She pulled the car keys out of her pocket and tossed them to Edward.

Edward and Jacob left, and Savannah returned to her office and tackled the stack of papers that grew into a mountain every time she turned her back. After a tedious hour, she heard Jacob and Edward return.

Back in the conference room, they were leaning over a pile of maps that completely covered the surface of the table.

“What's this?” Savannah asked as she entered the room.

Jacob's face beamed. “My librarian helped me find some old maps that were available during the time the bottle was made. She likes to help me and Suzy.”

“That's great, but—” Her cell phone rang. “It's the museum. Hi, Dr. Smithfield. I'm putting you on speaker for my friends who are helping me research these bottles.” She pressed a key and placed her cell on the conference table.

“My colleague in Bristol got back to me on the bottle he received from your Detective Parker.”

“Oh? He didn't tell me the bottle had been sent over to Scotland Yard.” Savannah turned and mouthed to Edward, “He's not
my
Detective Parker.” Savannah turned back around and said, “What's the story?”

“It is an authentic, original Bristol Blue bottle manufactured for patent medications. It was a popular export to the new colonists of North America. The tiny maker's mark on the bottom actually identifies the glass factory and the glassblower.”

“Jacob was right about that one being an original. What's the value?”

“It's not extraordinarily valuable. It usually sells at auction for under fifty dollars.”

“Thanks, Dr. Smithfield. I don't know how or if it fits into the motive for Martin's death, but I appreciate the efforts of you and your Bristol colleague.” Savannah ended the call and shrugged her shoulders. “Another dead end. The bottle is old, but why is it important? It doesn't add up.”

Jacob pointed to a section on one of the old maps. “This appears to be very close to where Martin was found.”

“We've nothing to lose.” Edward started gathering up the maps. “Let's go to the discovery site and see what we can find out by comparing today's shoreline with these maps.”

“Don't touch them.” Jacob pulled the maps toward him. “I'll take care of the maps. My librarian friend said I must be in charge of the maps all the time.” He looked at Savannah and lowered his head in a challenge. “All the time.”

Edward held his hands up. “Don't get your knickers in a twist.”

“What does that mean?” Jacob carefully rolled up the maps and put them in a cardboard shipping tube.

Savannah gave Edward a warning look. “It means don't get worried over something unimportant. We will let you take care of the maps exclusively, won't we, Edward?”

“Of course.” He nodded.

They loaded into the Mini and drove straight down Central Avenue.

Chapter 26

 

“I think this is the spot.” Jacob had Suzy's leash slipped over his wrist. The tube of maps was tucked under the other arm, and one of the maps was spread between his hands. “Yes.” He twisted the map slightly. “This is the spot.”

They had parked the Mini on Park Street and had walked along the seawall to the place where the newspaper stated Martin's body had been found.

Savannah looked at the large Mediterranean Revival–style homes that backed onto this small bit of Intracoastal Waterway. “What we need to find is the young couple and their dog who found the body. They were taking their dog for a walk.”

She had barely gotten the words out of her mouth when a great, lumbering hulk of a chocolate lab came galloping down the narrow beach.

“Charlie! Stay!” The command came from a young couple about twenty yards away. The man held a leash in his hand. He ran up to them, with the woman a few feet behind.

Charlie skidded to a tumbling halt and wound up lying on his side, looking up at Suzy with adoring eyes.

“Don't panic. He's a real softie.” The man snapped the leash onto Charlie's collar. “We don't often find other dogs out here.”

“Suzy is a service dog.” Jacob backed away, still holding the map.

“No problem. Charlie is curious about her vest.”

The young woman stepped forward, with her hand outstretched. “Hi. I'm Julie Wedlake, and this is my husband, Paul. We live a few houses over on Park Street.”

Savannah and Edward shook her hand and Paul's and introduced themselves to the couple, but Jacob kept a tight grip on the maps.

“What are you looking for?” Julie looked at her husband. “Maybe we can help.”

Savannah didn't hesitate a second. “We're looking for a cache of old bottles turned up by one of my students. I own Webb's Glass Shop on Central Avenue, and this week we taught a glass recycling class, which started on Monday. Martin brought in an old bottle that he said came from the water along here.”

“Do you mean the diver who was found here on Tuesday morning?” Paul asked.

Savannah nodded. “Yes. He was in class on Monday and brought a Bristol blue bottle that he said he had salvaged.”

The couple looked at each other.

Paul said, “We're the ones who found him. The bottle found with him was broken, but you could still see the cobalt blue through the mesh of his dive bag.”

“I'm consulting with the police department as their glass expert, and I would like to ask you some questions, if you've got a few minutes.”

“Definitely,” said Julie. “Our house is a few doors away. Please follow us so we can be more comfortable and can get these dogs out of the heat. I'm sure Suzy would appreciate a little water, as well as everyone else.”

“Thanks,” said Edward. “We're happy to take you up on it.”

After Savannah and Edward helped Jacob stow the borrowed maps in the tube, the little troupe followed the couple down the beach to the back entrance of an early 1920s stucco and clay-tiled mansion. They entered through the back door and found themselves in a screened-in area with an Olympic-sized pool, which could easily have hosted a swim meet. They followed Paul and Julie inside through the door to the kitchen.

“Let me get some water for the dogs first.” Julie picked up a large bowl from the floor and grabbed another one from a cupboard in the enormous granite-topped island. After she filled the bowls with water and placed them down several feet apart, she said, “I don't know about Suzy, but Charlie doesn't like to share either food or water.” Charlie practically inhaled the liquid in noisy, sloppy slurps.

“Suzy is a polite dog.” Jacob led her to the smaller bowl. “She's had lots of training to prepare for all situations.” Suzy lapped some water, then sat.

“Good,” said Julie. “I'll get us some iced tea, and we can chat in the living room. Paul, get everyone settled, and I'll be right in with a tray.”

They followed Paul and were soon settled in a casual, comfortable way, so that it felt like they had all known each other for much longer than the few minutes that had passed.

After Julie served the iced tea and sat, she said, “Now, what do you want to know?”

Edward nodded over at Savannah, and she cleared her throat. “We want to know where Martin found the bottle. We think it is the key to solving his death.”

Paul and Julie looked at each other with eyebrows raised.

Paul nodded slightly. “This is weird, but we actually might be able to help you.”

“Fantastic, but how?” Savannah asked.

“We have a marine science business,” said Paul.

“And it fits in with your questions very well,” said Julie. “It combines a remotely operated vehicle, called an ROV, with bottom-sensing instrumentation. It is possible for us to—”

“Scan the bottom of the Intracoastal Waterway to search for the bottles,” Jacob said, finishing the statement.

“Right,” said Paul. “We're in the process of collecting data right now in support of a grant application to map sections of the gulf to document sea grass destruction. We're also going to measure the effectivity of different methods of sea grass restoration.”

Edward frowned. “I'm sorry. A grant? I'm not familiar with funding for science in the States.”

Julie smiled. “I'm not sure anyone is, but basically, Paul and I are applying for funding to prove that our ROV is more effective at documenting sea grass damage caused by boats that run aground and tear up the bottom.” She nodded at Paul.

“The grant will fund a feasibility study for using high-definition cameras tethered to our vehicle for not only providing proof of damage but also for estimating the fines levied on the boat owners for the restoration of the sea grass.” Paul lifted his eyebrows. “If this gets approved, we can offer our services to the restoration companies for damage assessment and proof that the damage has been repaired.”

“Currently, the sea grass is counted by hand, a tedious and error-prone estimation method,” Julie added.

Savannah spread her hands. “How does this help us locate the area where Martin found the bottles?”

Julie looked at Edward. “I see where you're confused. We haven't selected the areas where we're going to collect baseline data. It means we can use our ROV to search in the most likely places Martin would have been able to access. It's a win-win.”

Jacob tapped the tube of maps. “That's why I have these old maps. We can figure out what would have been a good place to bury the bottles on the old maps, and then we can match where they might be in the Intracoastal. Then the ROV can scan those areas for us to see if there have been disturbances on the bottom.”

“You've got it, young man,” said Paul. “We have to accumulate a significant amount of data regardless to accompany our proposal. We might as well make it interesting.”

“You know, this sounds like a very thinly disguised treasure hunt.” Julie tilted her head sideways.

“No,” protested Paul. “This is actually aiding in a murder investigation.” He grinned wide. “Even better.”

Edward stood. “How do we start?”

Paul also stood. “Jacob, I'm going to get my set of modern charts, and let's determine some target areas for the ROV scans based on your maps. Then we'll start scanning tomorrow afternoon. Good? Let's go into the workshop and plot this out.” He looked at Julie, Savannah, and Edward. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Mind? You don't think you're doing this without us, do you?” Julie waved at the entire group. “It's this way. It was originally a billiards room, but we've found it to be the perfect laboratory for our business.”

Jacob could hardly contain his excitement. He followed Julie and Paul into a large room outfitted with all the work space and instruments that could be found in any university laboratory. He unrolled one of the maps onto a long table near the end of the room and pointed to an island in the middle of the Intracoastal. “This is one of the possible locations where I think the treasure cache should be.”

Paul rummaged through his collection of charts stored in a flat set of drawers and pulled out a chart of the same area, which was a modern update. “This is still a shallow area of the Intracoastal. Let me plug this into our application and see what parameters we will need to enter into the ROV navigation program.”

Jacob sorted through his maps and pulled out another location, which Paul located on one of his charts as a final possibility. After the coordinates were plugged into the ROV and Paul had taken pictures of Jacob's maps, everyone fell silent.

Savannah looked at Paul. “When are you going to perform the data scans?”

“It will have to be during low tide tomorrow, which will be at about three in the afternoon. This will give us the best chance of detecting any kind of disturbance on the bottom. The water is so murky that the less water there is, the easier it will be for the cameras to analyze for anomalies.”

“Can we come along?” Jacob scooped up Suzy, who had been about to remind Charlie that she was a service dog. “I won't be any trouble.”

Edward spoke up. “I think we should all be involved. This is serious business, and not merely a lark for the scientific fun of it. Even though it does look like this ROV of yours could shortcut the efforts of salvage divers across the world.”

It was Jacob who voiced the thought foremost in everyone's mind. “We might finally find Gaspar's treasure.”