Death of a Hot Chick (20 page)

He grabbed my hand. “You wouldn’t,” he
said.

“
Why not?” I tugged, but he didn’t
release my hand. Instead, he swung it to his face and licked my
palm. “Um, tasty.”

I was definitely out of practice with the
opposite sex. Especially one who had just declared himself
off-limits. This parrying back and forth was too much. “I’ll just
wash my hands at the boat.” We were almost there.

“
Me too,” Gregory said.

Bad move, I thought. That would put him
inside the boat. “My hose is on the dock.”

“
Hose. Hot summer night. Good idea,”
Gregory said. He ran ahead. When he reached my finger pier, he
grabbed the hose and unwound it from the faucet.

I braced herself for a water attack.
Instead, I heard Kaye screech, “Where have you been? I thought you
were dead.” My delightfully over-controlling sister jumped up from
my deck box.

“
Kaye, I’m not in any danger. Did you
forget I had a class? And, why would I be dead?”

“
The former owner, who tried every way
he could to get back on this boat, was just killed. Not to mention
Nicole, the most recent former owner, was also killed. You must
come stay with me. It’s not safe here.”

“
Perhaps the operative word is
‘former.’ I’m the current owner, and what’s more, I’m aboard, not
off the boat which is where the other two were...forget that. If
Chester Foltz died in that burning automobile accident, that’s not
murder. And he didn’t die. No body was in that car.”

“
There wasn’t?” Gregory asked. “Then
why didn’t you announce that tonight and stop all those silly
questions?”

Kaye ignored the whole “no body” subject and
said, “Then you’re turning me down? You refuse to protect yourself?
You’re ignoring my quite natural concern for you?”

“
I have the solution,” Gregory said
with a chuckle. “I’ll stay here. Then she’ll be safe.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Finally I yelled, “You will not!”

“
Out here, on your lovely folding
chair, maybe with a blanket tossed over me,” he said.

“
Well, outside would be all right,”
Kaye said. “You understand, I’m not approving of anything
else.”

“
You aren’t approving anything,” I
told my sister. “Neither one of you has a thing to say. Just
leave.” I marched over to the hose, turned it on, and splashed my
hands, rubbing the sticky ice cream off.

“
Wash my hands too?” Gregory said. He
stood a foot away, leaning over.

I turned with the hose and sprayed him. I
got him in the chest. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize you were so
close. But I’m sure it will dry soon.” I turned off the hose and
climbed aboard.

Gregory stood, chuckling. Kaye stood ten
feet away, fuming. I tried to slam my door, but it still only
coasted to a semi-clicking halt.

I sank to my settee in the dark. I had to
get control of myself.

Off-limits, off-limits!

Was that the switch that turned me on?
Gregory liked to tease. Me in particular.

He’d been Al’s friend. Al, who picked up the
pieces—the pieces of me when I finally realized Gregory was often
so drunk he didn’t even know I was there. But I’d loved Gregory so
much—once. When he wasn’t always drunk.

And now he was interested—as a friend.

Chapter 15

Friday, July 28

When my cell phone jingled at exactly seven
fifteen in the morning, I wasn’t surprised. I swallowed the bite of
banana and answered, “Hello Kaye. Yes, I’m still among the
living.”

“
Oh, you did get the caller ID
program,” she said.

“
Nope.”

“
You know I’m concerned. There’s
absolutely nothing wrong with checking on you once in a while. But
I do have other reasons to call you. I’ve been thinking about our
planned traps. I’m rather stumped. Perhaps a brainstorming session
will help us.”

Quick save, I thought, but I said, “Sounds
like a good idea, except I’m headed out on an all-day job.” Would I
tell her what the job was? Nah, let her assume I’d be doing teak
again.

“
Be careful.”

“
Oh, I’ll put lots of sun block on,” I
told her, although I knew perfectly well, that was not the kind of
careful she meant.

~
~

Actually, this job didn’t begin until
nearly noon, so I was still on the boat when Teddy knocked on the
side of
Snapdragon
and yelled,
“Permission to come aboard.”

“
Sure,” I said, but she must not have
heard me. I pulled out my reasonably white shorts. The green
T-shirt would have to do. Instead of hearing Teddy knock again, I
heard her voice.

“
I’ll talk to her later, Reba,” she
said. “Take several shots. With and without the name
showing.”

“
You mean somebody lives on that
little thing?”

“
It’s got all the amenities inside.
Kitchen, bedroom, bathroom.”

I zipped the shorts and pulled the T over my
head. Finally, I made it out my door. “Hey, what’s going on
here?”

A young woman had set up a tripod and
was snapping pictures right and left. Teddy turned with a bright
grin—and not a trace of embarrassment about taking over my boat.
“Picture time,” she said. “The Sunday issue of
The Orbit
has their annual special
supplement—alternative vacation places to take the kids before
school starts. Teddy Tonight will feature the overnight spots,
naturally. Unusual places where people live—like in
boats.”

“
Oh.”

“
May I have your permission to use
your boat?”

“
You mean, since I happen to be here
and see you taking the pictures?”

“
Hey, what are friends for?” Quickly,
Teddy introduced Reba and me to each other. “Cyd, and I’ve been
friends practically from birth,” she told Reba. And to me, she
said, “The pictures will be small and won’t show the boat’s name,
if you’re concerned. I’ll have other boats as well. What do you
say?” When I didn’t say anything at all, she added,
“Please?”

“
Is this some scheme for the paper to
get more press on Nicole’s murder?”

“
Definitely not. We won’t use any
pictures with the boat’s name. Maybe have a few shots inside? And
we’ll do a collage. Lizzie lives on board, doesn’t she? What other
boats are used as the owner’s principle home?”

“
You’ll have to check with Wes, the
marina manager. I’m not sure Lizzie will agree.” In fact, I wasn’t
sure I agreed, even though Teddy assumed it. “Tell me more about
this special newspaper supplement.”

“
It’s a pre-back-to-school edition.
We’ll be focused on short trips to take with the kids. My column
will be an addition, how some lucky people seem to live on vacation
the year around. I’ll be heading to the camp ground, check out any
hotel residents. And, just for kicks, I’ll hit the bus depot in
town and the train depot in Queensboro, so there will be a lot of
pictures. We’ll pick one or two personal stories to showcase, and
the others will be background with short captions of a sentence or
two.”

I hesitated.

Teddy said, “And, you will get a print of
your favorite shot. How’s that?”

“
Like that’s in the budget,” Reba
said, hoisting her tripod with camera attached. “How about a few
pictures inside?”

“
Maybe just the galley,” I said. “But
without me doing my dishes.”

After several minutes of flashes
illuminating a few cobwebs inside
Snapdragon
, Reba returned to the dock. “Next?”
she asked.

“
Lizzie’s boat,” Teddy said, then
giving me a hugely fake smile—which used to mean something in our
detective code when we were little, said, “Come with me to Lizzie’s
boat?”

Was Teddy’s idea a good thing? What
did that grin mean? Oh, yeah—
play
along
. Which didn’t mean I had to. “Sure,” I said.
“It’s this way.”

“
I’ll ask Wes about any others.” Teddy
followed me, no doubt happy that she’d conned me into helping
her.

Reba piped up. “Is there anybody living on
one of the boats out in the water? Like those tied up to the white
mooring balls out there, I mean.”

“
They’re mostly in storage. Like a lot
of the boats in the marina,” I said.

At Lizzie’s boat, I banged on the side. Did
Teddy really want pictures of a ramshackle boat, the deck piled
with boxes wedged in between a couple of folding chairs. Two
plastic gallon containers may, or may not have been full of
something. “Hey, Lizzie. You here?” I asked.

Reba started snapping pictures from all
angles, even before Lizzie popped out. She kept snapping as Lizzie
popped her head out the door.

She stood, taking it all in before she said
a word. “Cyd, you bring this newspaper gal and her picture-taking
buddy?”

“
Yeah, but they’re supposed to ask
your permission first,” I said.

Teddy went into her spiel, explaining the
upcoming article.

Lizzie stood silently taking it all in.
Finally, she said, “You ain’t gonna use my name and you ain’t gonna
use my boat name. Got that?”

“
Of course. Any picture will be small,
as I explained to Cyd.”

“
And you ain’t gonna use one of them
that she snapped right in my face with me looking right at her. Got
that too?”

“
Sure do, Lizzie. But, if you want,
I’ll print up a large one just for you to keep. Would you like
that?”

“
No!” she said, and darted back inside
and closed her door.

“
That went well,” Reba
mumbled.

“
Let’s find the manager,” Teddy said.
“Cyd, I owe you. Come with us?”

“
No, I’m on my way to a job. Um, about
those identifying pictures....”

“
Don’t show them to Zander,
right?”

I gave her the thumbs-up sign and
headed back to
Snapdragon
to
lock up.

~
~

“
It’s a paying job, right?” I had
asked Gregory that morning when he called.

“
Sure,” he’d answered, but I wondered.
Had my door-slamming last night ticked him off and this was
payback? I approached the newly expanded Norris Charters—a
mini-marina, with repair facilities and his fleet of boats tied to
floating docks. Why did he need an assistant for a day cruise? And,
an assistant without papers at that?

Gregory was pumping diesel into the tanks.
“Hey. Be with you in a minute,” he said. “We’re taking this
one.”

Three boats gleamed in their places. I
swung aboard
Norris Wave
–a
refitted oyster boat, originally used by tongers, who scraped
oysters from the bottom in shallow water. I stood at the wheel,
stroked the leather covered surface, glanced around as I would
under way. Gregory approached, a big smile on his face.

“
Hey, memories?” he asked.

“
Not me.” I wished my face didn’t
flame so easily.

He stood behind me, folded his arms around
my elbows, then took the wheel with my body clasped tightly between
his warm chest and the cold wheel.

“
Um,” he breathed into my ear. “I’ve
got memories.”

“
Why do you need an assistant?” I
whispered to the wheel.

He stepped back with a laugh. “Just trying
to impress an important customer. We’ll give him a two-employee
crew. I’ve got a T-shirt and a cap below for you to wear. They’re
in the head. Stash your shirt out of sight.”

“
Okay, what are my duties?”

“
The first one’s gonna get you
riled.”

I turned around, stepped away from the
wheel, and stared at Gregory. “So I’m riled. What am I riled up
about?”

He pulled his face into unaccustomed
solemnity and spoke with faux sternness. “You will treat me with
respect. I’m your captain. You will address me, thus: ‘Yes,
Captain,’ ‘No, Captain,’ or even ‘Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir.’
Please go below and return properly uniformed. Do I make myself
clear?”

“
Yes, Sir Gregory,” I said, running
below just before he split a gut laughing.

The T-shirt he’d laid out repeated the
colors of his sign—the blue-green waves of rolling sea. The shirt
had his logo, Norris Charters printed in red over a spoked wheel in
yellow. Over the logo were yellow letters spelling, “Cyd.” The cap
was white with that same logo and a lot of the yellow “scrambled
eggs” on the visor usually reserved for captains. I couldn’t figure
out whether to be pleased or mad as hell. I would reserve
judgment.

I changed, stashed my own T-shirt in the
cabinet under the sink, adjusted the hat to fit, and stepped out of
the head. The catering crew had arrived.

Gregory stood over a kid loading the
prepared food. Evidently the boy wasn’t listening, because Gregory
said, “Hey. Put the food in this refrigerator. That one’s for the
fish and bait.”

“
Oh, sure,” the kid said, slamming a
door that was plainly marked, “FISH AND BAIT.” “You want the drinks
in here too?”

“
No, put them in the ice chest on
deck.”

After he left, I said, “You didn’t mention
my other duties. I’m the galley slave, right?”