SEAS THE DAY Page 14

  Major zipped through the yard, which prompted me to refill his cat food and water bowls. He didn’t show himself again, so I put him out of my mind. You could lead a cat to canned tuna, but you couldn’t make him eat.

  First on my to-do list was making a lime marinade for the mahi I’d purchased at Neptune’s Harvest. The longer the fish marinated, the more succulent it would be. People loved my crab cakes, but they raved about my fish. I’d cook both the mahi and the steak on a charcoal grill tonight. My mouth watered thinking about the blend of surf and turf.

  I had, of course, purchased extra mahi and filet mignon for a late dinner with Pete. His return was a special occasion for us.

  I heard a noise, so I opened the door and listened. The cat. It was yowling. I called him, but he wouldn’t come out of the pine forest. There was nothing back there for him to get caught on. Maybe a lady cat was in the neighborhood and they were courting. I trusted he was all right and returned to work.

  Next, I blended a delicate marinade for the steaks. Not too much extra flavor, but just the right amount. Too soon to apply it to the steak, but it was ready for application when I fired up the grill.

  The cat yowled a bit more and then quieted. Thank goodness for that mercy.

  I prewashed my lettuce and chopped salad veggies, setting aside what I’d hold in reserve for Pete and me. Those salads went in the fridge with the marinades. It was too soon to fool with the bread, so I roasted the Brussels sprouts. While they cooked, I worked on a balsamic reduction and toasted almond slivers.

  Suddenly, an object pressed into my back. “Stick your hands up,” a mechanical-sounding voice ordered.

  I started to turn around, sure my brother was pranking me, but the pressure in my back intensified. More, it felt like a cylinder. A gun? Oh, dear heaven.

  “I’ll shoot if you turn around,” the intruder said. “Do as I say and you won’t get hurt.”

  Fear bolted through me, quick as lightning. My eyes watered, my knees wobbled. I cried out but no sound came from my too-tight throat.

  I squeezed in a breath a million moments later and fought for composure. Surely I could talk my way out of this. What did I have to lose?

  I gulped more air and tried to sound normal. “I’m cooking. Let me turn everything off. Please.”

  The cylinder jabbed me again. “Do it.”

  I cut off the gas burner and the oven, a big hole forming in the pit of my stomach. From the reflection on the glass-fronted microwave, a mask covered my intruder’s head and neck. The bloody-mouthed zombie mask terrified me. A shudder tripped down my spine. Stay calm. Do what he says and you’ll live.

  Calm. How could I identify this person later? From the deep mechanical voice, I presumed my intruder was male. He appeared taller than me but not by much. I couldn’t tell his skin color, age, or anything else.

  Fury clouded my thoughts. Who would threaten a caterer? I had thirty-five dollars in my wallet and enough money in the bank to cover three months of bills. That was it.

  “What do you want?” I asked, a tremor in my voice.

  “Tell me everything about the Bolz family.”

  He most likely didn’t want me to start in elementary school. “Estelle died last week. Kale’s in jail. Chili is missing.”

  “No. Their family business.”

  “Which one? Estelle owned a dry-cleaning business. Chili has a fishing charter boat, and his brother ran a shrimp trawler.”

  The cylinder ground into me again. I cried out in pain. “The other business,” the intruder insisted.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Quiet followed. Each second ticked in my ear like an old-timey wind-up clock. I could barely hear myself think. Would he kill me now?

  “Two men tore up their house,” the masked man stated.

  Not a question, but at least I knew something about this. “They claimed to be cousins.”

  “Mob.”

  “This is a quiet place, for families. We don’t have the mob on Shell Island.”

  “Things change.”

  I tried to parse information with my lizard brain. A man in a zombie mask held a gun to my spine. He claimed the mob had a foothold on my island. Estelle’s alleged cousins were rumored to be connected, but this was the first I’d heard of a consistent mob presence. The normalcy of thought caused me to lower my hands and begin to turn around to talk to this person. “What do they want on Shell Island?”

  “Hands up. Don’t move. I ask the questions here.”

  Heat flushed my face. How could I forget he held my life in his hands? “Sorry.”

  “Where’s the money?”

  My jaw dropped. “What money? They had enough to get by, they weren’t rich. They were nice people.”

  The man-made unintelligible sounds. “They weren’t nice people.”

  His statement rankled. Anger mixed with fear had me steaming. “I’ve known that family for nearly twenty years. If they were bad people, I’d know.”

  “People wear two faces.”

  Or zombie masks. I must’ve snorted because the intruder asked, “What’s so funny?”

  Fear made me bold…or stupid. “You don’t even have a face, Mr. Zombie Mask.”

  “Better that way.” He poked me in the back again. “Who was Estelle’s business partner?”

  “She didn’t have one. She cleaned people’s clothes and played bridge. No way was she criminal of the month.”

  The urgency in his voice heightened. “Tell me who it is.”

  My throat closed again and I whispered a response. “I don’t know.”

  He swore loudly and I very much understood the foul words despite the mechanical distortion. “How can you be so stupid?” he asked.

  I bit off every smart-mouth response that sprang into my head and said nothing. I heard something being moved behind me.

  “You own a fire extinguisher?” he asked.

  Fire? This wasn’t good. Dread added to the emotional cocktail in my bloodstream. “Mounted on the wall by the door. Why?”

  He smacked the back of my head, and I stumbled into the counter. My hip hit the countertop hard. I cried out. The cold barrel pressing into my back moved with me. “Because you’ll need it in about two minutes. Your cat will be fine once the sedative wears off, but you might want to find him before then. Count to twenty before you move, or I swear I’ll shoot you where you stand. If you tell the cops I was here, I’ll return. Start counting.”

  “One, two, three, four,” I began, feeling the pressure leave my back as soon as I said two. “Five, six, seven.” I smelled smoke. “Eight, nine, ten,” I said in a rush.

  Forget twenty. I turned to find him gone and a roll of paper towels ablaze on my center island.

  I swore, dashed for the extinguisher, and doused the flames. Using my big tongs, I hefted the smoldering mass to the sink. Crisis averted. Tears flowed down my cheeks, my legs barely supported my weight. I held out a hand and it trembled. I gripped both hands together and took stock.

  I didn’t get shot.

  I was alive.

  My commercial kitchen survived a fire, and fortunately most of my client’s dinner for tonight was marinating, refrigerated, or in the oven. The balsamic reduction and almond slivers had to go. They would’ve picked up aerosols from the fire and the extinguisher, but I could easily replace them.

  The cat.

  He did something to the cat.

  I raced outside, mute with fear. I wanted to call the cat’s name, but I didn’t want to give the intruder any reason to return. When Major cried out before, the sound came from the pines on the south side of the property. I checked there first.

  Nothing.

  Teary-eyed, I dashed through the woods and nearly stepped on him. The cat didn’t protest when I touched him, but his chest slowly rose and fell.


  I scooped him up and carried him inside my house. After laying him on an old blanket on the washing machine, I considered my options. If I called 911, the intruder would hear the sirens. He would not be pleased.

  Not doing that.

  Wait. I had a cop’s private number on my phone. I called Lance. “Someone broke into my kitchen and drugged the cat.”

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Shaky, but I’m alive.”

  “I’ll tell dispatch to send a unit out there right now. Lock the doors.”

  “Too late. The guy is gone. He set a fire in my commercial kitchen. I put that out first and rescued the cat. Now I’m next door in my house. I think I should take the cat to a vet.”

  “Most likely the intruder gave your cat a tranquilizer. If he’s breathing easily, he’ll wake up naturally. No need to spend money on a vet.”

  I stroked the cat’s head. “I don’t feel right about not taking him, but he is breathing, and in fact his breaths aren’t as slow as before.”

  “Right. He’ll wake up soon and be good as new.”

  “You know a lot about cats.”

  “Seen a few in this job.” He cleared his throat. “Your safety is more important than the cat’s. Lock the door. Stay inside.”

  “The door is locked. Lance, the intruder said if I called the cops, he’d return. I don’t know what to do. I’m calling you as a cop, but if cruisers tear out here with sirens blazing, I could be in trouble. I need you to come, discretely.”

  “Told you that lifting those rocks to look for Chili was dangerous. Heavy hitters are involved in this case. I can’t break free right now. Can you shelter in place until I can get out there in, say, an hour?”

  Sunlight slanted in the laundry room window, warming my skin. “I’m rattled to the bone, but I can’t sit tight in my house. I’ve got a catering job tonight. A VIP client. If I blow off this customer, I might as well hang up my spatulas. Getting the dinner to come together on time is a carefully orchestrated event. I need to be over in my commercial kitchen right now, prepping the ingredients and staging the production.”

  “Can you secure the other kitchen? If so, go ahead. Keep the phone close at hand until I arrive, which should be within the hour. I’ll take your statement then for the police report.”

  Police report. Ugh.

  Was I doing the right thing?

  Would my actions prompt the masked man to kill me?

  I couldn’t give in to a bully. I was scared, but fear was a normal response. I was normal, my intruder wasn’t. With a last look at the sleeping cat, I charged out the door. “I gave you my incident statement orally a minute ago.”

  “You have to file a written statement. Are you outside now?”

  I loped down my back steps. “Yes. I’m on my way to the commercial kitchen.”

  “Walk at a normal pace.”

  “Forget that. I’m running.” I dashed inside and locked the door behind me. “I’m in.”

  “No intruders?”

  I turned in a circle, surveying the room. “Not that I can see, and unless he’s a contortionist or hiding in the walk-in fridge, I’m alone here.”

  “Good. I’ll be there soon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Deputy Lance Hamlyn strolled into my commercial kitchen forty minutes later, wearing sneakers, jeans, a fishing shirt, his usual heavy-handed aftershave, and police gloves. His cop eyes checked every corner before pinning me. “You okay in here?”

  “I’m good for now,” I said, locking the door behind him. I zipped back to the stove, turned off the gas burner, and covered the pan. “You’re early.”

  “I cleared my schedule to keep you company this afternoon and help you with this VIP client tonight. Figured you’d feel safer if you weren’t alone. I gather that black garbage bag outside is the paper towels?”

  “This really spooked me. Thanks for the company and the offer of help. I’ll take you up on both, if you don’t mind. I won’t be alone later because Pete’s flying home tonight. As for the paper towels, I couldn’t leave them inside. I aired this place out by opening the windows and then I sanitized every surface before I started making the balsamic reduction again.”

  I drew a deep breath. “I wish I’d brought the cat over here. Can we go check on him?”

  “The cat will keep a few more minutes,” Lance said. “We’ll check on him after I search the area for signs of your intruder. Meanwhile, are you hurt?”

  “Physically, I’m fine.”

  “I hope you don’t mind. I brought a supply of my black police gloves for policing and catering. My hands are much bigger than yours and I wanted to make sure we kept things sanitary.” Lance took a moment, glanced around my kitchen again. “Everything seems in order. Where’s your fire extinguisher?”

  “Good thinking. I don’t think your hands would fit in my smaller gloves.” I pointed to the wall mount. “Where it belongs.”

  “You used it so you have to refill or replace it. If it has a metal valve, take it to the fire station. They refill them for a minimum charge. It’s cheaper than buying a new one.”

  I walked over and studied the fire extinguisher. “Metal. Guess I’ll be making a trip to the fire station soon.”

  He withdrew a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and placed it on the counter. “Start on your police statement while I snap pictures of the paper towels and clear the woods. How’d the guy get in?”

  My face heated. “I opened the door because the cat made a ruckus outside. Guess I forgot to lock it when I got back to work.”

  “Not a good plan to leave your door unlocked, but at least your lock isn’t busted.” He opened the door, locked and unlocked it a few times. “Any serious burglar could pick this cheap lock in less than ten seconds.”

  “I’ve never worried about people breaking into my kitchen before. The lock works fine for nonserious burglars. What would anyone want from my kitchen? Pots and pans?”

  He made a small laugh before he asked, “Was anything stolen?”

  “Yeah. My pride. My innocence too. Armed intruders aren’t commonplace on Shell Island or in my kitchen.”

  Lance shrugged. “We’re seeing big city crimes on the island. It isn’t a sleepy little summer tourist spot anymore.”

  The memory of that creepy voice came roaring back in my head. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “What did the intruder look like? Can you describe him or her?”

  “I think it was a guy even though the voice was distorted.”

  “Distorted?”

  “Something mechanically altered the sound. Like you see on TV shows when someone wants anonymity. The voice was gorped up, but it sounded deep.”

  “You can do anything with those phone apps. It might be a woman even if the voice sounded deep.”

  “Good to know, but I don’t think it was an app. We had an interactive conversation. There wasn’t time for him, or her, to speak privately into his phone, change how it sounded, and then play it back for me to hear.”

  “They make devices you can wear for that, but you would’ve seen it over his or her mouth.”

  “I wasn’t allowed to turn around and see the guy. For convenience sake, I’m calling the intruder a man. I saw a quick reflection in the microwave door. He wore a zombie mask, and I can’t tell you his race. No skin showed in the reflection, though that’s all of him I ever saw. One hand held a piece of cold metal on my spine. He said it was a gun.”

  “They sell voice changing boxes at most party stores. He could’ve worn a mouthpiece under his mask.”

  “That’s creepy.” I never wanted to hear one of those voices again. “The ordeal scared me more than any Halloween fright I ever had.”

  “You’ve got nothing else on his appearance? What about height and weight?”

  “Didn’t see
his body. His reflection made him appear taller than me, but not by much.”

  “How tall are you? About five-six, five-seven?”

  “Five-six. He might be five-eight. That’s my best estimate.”

  “Not much to go on, unless we find that mask. I’ll see if our local party store carries those masks and voice devices, but it’s likely a criminal purchased the mask elsewhere to avoid detection. I’ll dust for prints, but if he wore a mask and disguised his voice, not much chance of fingerprints.”

  “How do we catch him?”

  “We don’t. Quit playing amateur detective and let me find Chili. If you aren’t involved, no one will bother you.”

  I wasn’t keen on having another intruder visit me, but I wanted to find Chili. I’d have to investigate without Lance knowing. “The intruder said Estelle, Chili, and Kale had a family business. I listed their businesses, and he said that wasn’t right. Then he asked me about the money. I had no idea what he was talking about and he got mad. What money? What were the Bolzes doing?”

  “Leave the investigation to the pros, River. That’s the only way you’ll be safe. Estelle is dead. Chili may be dead. You wanna be next?”

  “Of course not. None of this makes sense.”

  “From what I’ve pieced together after those men trashed Estelle’s house, the Bolz family operated under false pretenses.”

  My lips pressed tightly together. I didn’t believe him. I’d known these people all my life. If there were big secrets in their lives, how did they stay hidden in such a small town? Everyone knew everyone else’s business on Shell Island.

  Once again, Lance and I were uneasy allies, though he didn’t know it. I planned to keep it that way.

  I grabbed a pen and silently filled in the statement form. Lance went outside, took pictures, then ducked in and out of the trees.

  “Don’t see any indication of someone standing out there and watching your place,” he said when he returned. “This must’ve been a desperation move. The intruder knows of your connection to the Bolz family.”

  “When you say family like that, it makes me feel like I’m part of the mob. I’m not, in case you’re wondering.”