This Old Homicide (19 page)

“I was… afraid.”

“Afraid of me?”

“No, afraid that if the intruder knew I found it, then Jane or I might be in danger.”

He stopped walking and gazed down at me. “So you didn’t tell the one person who could keep you safe?”

“You mean, you?”

“Yeah, me.”

I frowned. “I think I’ve already proven that I have odd ways of dealing with things.”

He wasn’t in the mood to be cajoled. “Why didn’t you say something, Shannon?”

“I–I wanted to, but there was so much going on. I’ve got all these jobs, plus Jesse’s funeral and Jane’s opening gala and the Festival Committee meetings. Plus I was scared to death that if I told anyone, word would get out and Jane would be in danger.” I was blathering again.

“I understand your worry about your secret being exposed,” he said. “That’s a problem in small towns.”

“Thank you.”

“But look at me.” It almost hurt to stare up at him, he was so good-looking. He was
Thor.
With dimples. “You can trust me,” he said quietly. “Always. Do you get that?”

“I do,” I said, letting go of the breath I’d been holding. “I really do.”

He stared at me for another long moment, then nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw in my eyes. We walked for six more blocks while we talked about nothing in particular, all the way around the town square and back to Hennessey House, where he left me, explaining that he had a few more hours of work before he could call it a day.

I stared at his back, wondering how he could smile so beautifully and sound so casual while leaving me feeling so nerve-racked.

I went straight to the bar for another glass of wine.

“Hello there, miss,” a man behind me said.

I turned and smiled at Bob, Jesse’s old buddy. “Hi, Bob. I’m Shannon. Do you remember me?”

“Sure do. I believe you’re the only lovely lady I haven’t chatted with this afternoon.”

“Are you having a good time?”

“I am now,” he said, and winked. The man was a flirt!

I slipped my arm through his and we strolled outside with our drinks. “I didn’t have much of a chance to talk to you at Jesse’s memorial service, but I’ve heard about you for years.”

“It’s all lies,” he said, holding up both hands in surrender.

I laughed. “I don’t think so. Jesse never stopped talking about all the fun you had on that diving trip you took for his birthday.”

“That was a great time,” he said with a sentimental nod. “There won’t be another one of those anytime soon.”

“Did you get all the way down to the shipwreck?”

“We sure did. That’s a big chunk of history right there. But you’ve got to be careful. Got to know what you’re doing. Of course, we were all in the navy, so diving was our life for many years.”

“What was it like to swim around inside the old clipper ship?”

“Didn’t go inside. I’m a little too tall and hefty.” He chuckled and patted his belly. “If I swam into the bowels, I might get stuck. One small shift of the current and an old ship like that could rise or sink a little and kill you.”

“I never thought of that. Sounds dangerous.”

“It can be. So I was perfectly happy swimming around the wreckage. It’s spread across a big area of the sea bottom.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yep. I could’ve spent a few days down there and not seen it all. And of course, I might not have made it back.”

“We wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“No, ma’am. Jesse made it, though. He explored some of the staterooms and the hull. Those are some tight squeezes for a man my size.”

“Did Ned go inside?”

“He managed to work his way down to the main dining room belowdecks, but that was it.”

“Did any of you find anything worth bringing back?”

“Oh, there was some talk at the time that we should tell everyone we found some precious gems or coins, but it was all a big joke. The real treasure was the experience itself. The memories. That’s what I brought back.”

“It sounds like you had a wonderful time.”

“We sure did. Jesse was able to explore most of the ship, but then he was a few years younger than me.” Bob nudged me and winked again. “But I’ve got stamina on my side.”

“You’re a devil,” I said.

He laughed until he wheezed. I had to grab his drink to keep it from dropping. When he finally caught his breath, he chuckled hoarsely. “Haven’t laughed like that in years. I like you, Shannon. You’re a firecracker.”

“Thank you.” I was pretty sure it was a compliment.

“I’d better get you inside,” he said, rubbing his arms. “It’s turning chilly out here.”

I left Bob at the French doors and watched him shuffle back toward the bar. It was interesting to know that he and Ned had not gone into any of the staterooms of the
Glorious Maiden
. And he considered the talk about finding treasure a joke. So chances were good that he and Ned had never seen what Jesse found.

I hadn’t expected Bob to confess to murder, but I was a little bummed that he’d turned out to be such a sweetie. My list of suspects was shrinking.

“There’s my girl.”

I whipped around instantly and felt my disappointment slide away. “Dad, you made it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He gave me a bear hug and kept his arm wrapped around my shoulder. “Our Jane’s in the big time now.”

“I know. Isn’t this place grand?”

“Sure is.” Dad glanced around the room, taking in the finishings. I followed the direction of his gaze, grateful that he would notice the raised-panel wainscoting I’d designed, the double-ringed ceiling medallion that so perfectly accented the chandelier, the way the aging moldings were fitted together at each corner, the rebuilt decorative cornices and brackets at the edges of the alcove, the completely redesigned fireplace panel.

“You did a fantastic job, sweetheart.” He nodded to himself as his experienced eye examined everything. “I couldn’t be prouder.”

What could I say? That meant everything. “Thanks, Dad. I learned from the best.”

“Hey, guess you did.” His chest expanded in mock self-importance and we both laughed.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered as I hugged him again. He’d dressed up in his best navy suit and wore a white shirt and the beautiful silk tie I’d given him last Christmas. He rarely dressed this elegantly these days, so I was especially pleased that he’d done so for Jane.

He took a good long look at me. “Something going on. What is it? What’s bugging you?”

“Nothing,” I said blithely, but I should’ve known better. He knew me too well.

“Nothing,” he mocked. “How many times have I heard that before? You realize I haven’t bought that line since you were fifteen and brokenhearted because Deputy Tommy didn’t call when he said he would?”

I sighed and mentally kicked myself. No way should I have expected to fool my dad.

“But I’ll let it go for tonight,” he said, tweaking my chin. “Tomorrow, though, I’m coming over for breakfast.”

I blinked. “Okay. Thanks for the warning.”

“Be prepared to spill your guts.”

Dad was already flipping pancakes when I stumbled down the stairs Sunday morning. Robbie, well aware of Dad’s lack of kitchen coordination, stood at the ready to catch any misflipped flapjacks. I couldn’t complain that Dad had broken into the house, since the house was still his, officially. Five years ago, after a heart attack scare, he had handed the house over to me and bought himself a Winnebago, a big one. He wanted to hit the road, explore the great outdoors, just as he and my mom had always planned to do. Dad got as far as the Oregon border before he turned around and came back home.

Traveling alone wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, he realized. He found the best of both worlds when he decided to live in the motor home while it was parked in my driveway. That way, Dad could live in his bachelor pad and still have a place to do laundry. And I still had my dad around most of the time.

Dad especially loved the “man cave” aspect of the RV, with its wide-screen television and comfortable swiveling lounge chairs. His buddies joined him regularly to watch sports and play poker, and at least once a month, he would take off to go fishing with Uncle Pete.

So to find him in my kitchen every so often, whipping up a batch of pancakes and bacon, wasn’t much of a shock. In truth, almost anyone willing to make me breakfast was welcome to break into my house anytime.

“Pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit. Breakfast will be ready in two minutes.”

I did as I was told and sat down at the kitchen table, where a glass of orange juice and a multivitamin were waiting for me.

“Thanks, Dad. You didn’t have to cook.”

“I figured if I was invading your space, I owed you a meal.”

“Okay, but I don’t ever mind you invading my space.”

He placed a big plate of pancakes, bacon, and a fried egg in front of me. “Syrup’s hot, so help yourself.”

“Are you eating?”

“I sure am.” He pulled another plate from the oven and sat down across from me.

Robbie was trained not to enter the dining room, but he had no compunction against begging at the kitchen table. Fortunately he was a polite beggar, keeping a bit of a distance and letting the power of his big brown eyes do the work for him.

I glanced at Dad’s plate. “Only one pancake?”

He patted his stomach. “I’ve got to watch my girlish figure now that I’m retired.” He poured a bit of syrup on his pancake and began to eat. After the first bite, he put his fork down. “Tell me what’s making you unhappy. Is it a man? Can I kick somebody’s butt for you?”

“Nobody’s making me unhappy, but thanks for the offer. It means a lot.” I loved him so much it hurt. The worst day of my life was the day I received the call from Uncle Pete, telling me Dad had had a heart attack.

“I’m always willing,” he said.

“I know, and I appreciate it. No, it’s not about a man. It’s mostly dealing with Jesse’s death. We’re sort of in a holding pattern with the police.”

“Police? What do you mean? I thought he died of a heart attack. Why are the police involved?”

“Sorry, Dad. I forgot you haven’t been around much.” Even though we had talked a few times during the week while he was working at Uncle Pete’s, I hadn’t let him in on all the news about Jesse and the necklace.

I reached across the table and touched his hand. “It’s being kept under wraps, but there’s a strong possibility Jesse might’ve been murdered. According to the coroner, he died of an accidental overdose of sleeping pills.”

“Sleeping pills? Jesse?” He shook his head vigorously. “I don’t believe it.”

“Jane and I don’t believe it, either. And there wasn’t a prescription bottle of pills anywhere in his house.” I didn’t even feel guilty about revealing the secret this time. This was my dad. Eric had to allow an exception for my dad, didn’t he? “So how did he OD? Somebody must’ve helped him along.”

“Aw, jeez.” He dropped his fork and slumped back in his chair. “You’re tangled up in another murder?”

“I found his body, Dad.”

He grimaced, leaned forward, and squeezed my hand. “I know that part, sweetie. I’m sorry. Sounds like it’s still tough for you.”

Dad had made it to Jesse’s funeral service but had been out at Uncle Pete’s ever since then. I had told him about finding the body, but not much else. There hadn’t been enough time for a sit-down talk at the service.

“It’s been pretty awful,” I admitted. “Here’s the thing, Dad. Somebody had been inside Jesse’s house, searching the rooms and making a real mess. There’s a hole punched in the wall and one of his floorboards was pulled up. Stuff was thrown on the floor. I don’t think Jesse would do that to his own home, do you?”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “He was darn proud of that place. And neat as a pin most of the time.”

“Exactly. So it had to be someone else.”

Dad’s face twisted as he thought. “And whoever it was probably killed Jesse. What were they looking for? It can’t be money. Jesse didn’t have much worth stealing.”

“Remember that antique necklace he used to brag about finding?”

“Oh, yeah, that time he went scuba diving. I thought he finally admitted that was a fib.”

“He did, but it turns out there really was a necklace. I’ve seen it. And it really is priceless.”

Dad’s eyes went wide.

“And I know he showed it to at least one person in town.”

“Do you know who?” he asked.

“Cuckoo Clemens.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “That figures. He and Jesse were buddies at one point, but they had a falling-out a few years back. Might’ve been over this necklace.” He picked up his fork, swirled a bit of pancake in the syrup, and took a bite. He palmed a small piece of bacon and slipped it to Robbie, who almost melted in gratitude. Dad was always doing that and I always pretended not to notice. Robbie was his granddog, after all. “Sounds like Jesse got in over his head. Damn it, the man might have made a foolish mistake, but he didn’t deserve to die for it. You think Cuckoo was in there searching for the necklace?”

“He’s our best guess. It’s worth asking him about it anyway.”

Dad shook his head and got his I’m-worried-about-Shannon expression again. “Not a good plan, sweetheart. He’s a hard man to talk to. I don’t think he’s got all the brain cells clicking in unison, if you know what I mean.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered.

“Hey,” he said, pointing his fork at me. “You’re not actually trying to track down this guy, are you? I know you’ve got your theories, honey, but leave it to the police to find the answers. I don’t like the idea of you getting tangled up in another murder mystery.”

Eric Jensen had said something similar. It was too late to worry about it, I told myself. I was already thoroughly tangled up.

“I just think that the longer the police take to investigate, the more Jane is in danger. If someone believes she has the necklace, they could attack her like they did Jesse.”

“
Does
she have the necklace?”

“No, we put it in a safe-deposit box.”

“But the thief doesn’t know that.”

“No,” I said. There was no way for the thief or anyone else to know that the necklace was no longer in Jesse’s house.

“That does it,” Dad said, setting down his fork. “If you don’t call the police, I will.”

“You don’t have to,” I said quickly. “The police are on top of this.”

“They’d better be.”

Oh boy. I mentally rolled my eyes, knowing that Eric would not appreciate an irate phone call from my father, telling him to stop allowing me to do the job the police should be doing. Eric would probably throw me in jail just to teach me another lesson.

It was time to change the subject. “So, how’s your love life, Dad?”

He chuckled. “Doing just fine. Maybe better than yours. Which reminds me, how’s Mac? When’s his next book coming out?”

“He’s great and the book will be out in the fall. We haven’t started rehab on the lighthouse mansion yet because he’s been too busy. But we have an appointment with the Planning Commission next week.”

“Good. If you have any problems there, you know who to call.”

“Ghostbusters?”

“Ha. Very funny. Let me know if they give you a hassle.”

“I will, but they won’t.”

“I don’t know. People get itchy when you start talking about refurbishing a beloved landmark.”

“I won’t be touching the outside except to paint it.”

“They won’t believe that. Even if you show them the blueprints, they’ll want more information and assurances.”

Dad would know. He’d been pitting himself against the town’s Planning Commission for years.

“I’ve got all the permits lined up and the blueprints speak for themselves. Mac intends to make a speech, too. I think we’ll get through it, but I’ll call you if anything goes wrong.”

“Good.” He sipped his coffee. “Something else is still bugging you. Talk to me.”

I sighed. “It just bothers me that you knew Jesse had a girlfriend and I didn’t. How could I be so blind?”

“Don’t take it so hard,” he said. “Guys talk about things around other guys that they wouldn’t think of bringing up in front of a woman—especially one young enough to be their daughter. Jesse was old school. A man’s man. Went into the service when he was a kid and stayed there until he was old enough to retire. He would no more talk to you about a woman he was dating than he would wear flowers in his hair.”

“I guess so.” But even if Jesse never said anything, I still felt silly for never having noticed that something in his life had changed so dramatically.

“Did you ever meet her?” I asked.

“The girlfriend? No, but I heard she was hot.”

“Oh, please.” I laughed at the typical male response. “She was at the memorial service and she was at Jane’s party last night. I’m surprised you didn’t chat her up.”

“She was there?”

“Yeah. She was talking to Jane for a while out in the garden.”

“Oh.” He nodded slowly. “I think I saw her but didn’t get a chance to meet her. Nice-looking woman. Does she live in the area?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering.”

Great. All I needed was to have my father start dating the woman who still held the number-five spot on my suspect list. I supposed that if she was as pleasant and innocent as she seemed to be, maybe I wouldn’t mind if Dad wanted to get to know her better.

“She lives down in Blue Point,” I said.

“You should see your face,” he said, laughing. “Don’t worry. I’m not looking for a steady girlfriend.”

I smiled. “No, you prefer the one-week Wilma types.”

He grinned wolfishly. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“You’re right,” I admitted. “I just want you to have a good time, be safe, and don’t get tied up with some gold digger.”

He laughed again. “You sound like me lecturing
you
.”

I joined in the laughter, but inside I was serious. There were plenty of women who would love to get their hands on Dad’s bank account. He had been a successful contractor for most of his life and had built many of the luxury homes around town and a number of mansions out on the Alisal Cliffs. He had a hefty bank balance, even if he came across as a working-class guy.

Uncle Pete was similar. He owned vineyards and a popular winery and the best Italian restaurant in town, but he wore old jeans and flannel shirts rolled up to his elbows and still liked to toil in the fields with the rest of the guys.

Together, they were quite the twosome when it came to the ladies. Any older woman visiting Lighthouse Cove for a week or two was fair game. Dad and Uncle Pete didn’t date the locals. One-week flings were their specialty. So I didn’t have much hope of Dad settling down with a nice, attractive woman like Althea Tannis anytime soon. It was just as well, since Althea was still getting over Jesse’s death. More than anything else, she would temporarily need a man for his shoulder to cry on.

Dad made me promise again to be careful and to call him if I needed help with anything. Once he left, I cleaned up the kitchen and then telephoned Lizzie to see if she could meet me to talk about her chat last night with Bob and Ned. Funny how I thought of the two men as a duo, since they weren’t. Either one of them could’ve been out to get Jesse.

Lizzie said she was about to take a thirty-minute break from Paper Moon, the books and paper arts store that she and Hal owned, so I grabbed my purse and dashed down to the town square. We met at the coffeehouse three doors down from her shop.

“What did you find out?” I asked as soon as we each had a café latte and were able to snag a table far enough away from prying eyes and ears.

“I doubt Bob or Ned had anything to do with Jesse’s death,” she said. “First of all, they’re both sweet guys and I can’t see them doing something so awful.”

“Yeah, I know.” I had come to the same conclusion, but I was still disappointed to hear Lizzie validate it.

“Second,” she continued, “they’re really old. I mean, Ned could probably swing a tennis racket, but a sledgehammer? No way. And I doubt that Bob could even manage the tennis racket. How could either of them punch that hole in the wall?”

“I agree.” I sipped my latte. “I didn’t have much hope of either of them being viable suspects, but we had to start somewhere.”

“Well, hold on, now,” Lizzie said, wearing a smug smile. “Ned did manage to throw his son under the bus, to some extent.”

“What?” I set my latte down. “Tell me everything.”

“Okay.” She scooted her chair around to get closer so she could whisper. “Ned said that a few months ago, he was showing Stephen around town because he wanted him to move here.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said.”

“So they stopped at Jesse’s house to say hi. Stephen had been there before and fell in love with the place. He asked for the full tour and Jesse told him it wasn’t for sale. He said it nicely, but it was a definite no on giving him a tour. Stephen asked two more times and finally Jesse freaked out, according to Ned. Told him he didn’t show off his house to anyone and to stop asking. Stephen hinted that maybe he’d sneak in sometime and take a look around. Jesse was really pissed off about that, and it didn’t help when Stephen suggested that he must have something to hide.”