SEAS THE DAY Page 4

“Gracious, gal. Get your vision checked. That guy is sexy and he can’t stop looking at you. One come-hither look from you and y’all could be heating up the night sky.”

  “Not going to happen. Thanks again for your help. Oh, wait a sec. What’s your brother up to these days?”

  Viv snorted. “Nothing good. Darry moved to Alaska in November. Ain’t been home since and still hasn’t sent for his wife or kids. I’m angry at his irresponsible behavior.”

  There went that possible lead. Estelle thought Darry Declan was a possible suspect in Chili’s disappearance, but it would be impossible to do anything all the way from Alaska. Whoever made Chili vanish had to be local.

  Lance played soft music on the drive home. The adrenaline buzz faded, and I yawned. I covered it in time, or so I thought. “Viv was so helpful tonight.”

  “Um hmm,” Lance said.

  “We could still be trying to get those people to talk to us.”

  “I’m glad we’re done too, but let me be clear. You asked everyone about Chili and got no answers. There should be no repercussions, or I wouldn’t have allowed you to do it. But, if you feel someone is bothering you after tonight, tell me.”

  I laughed out loud. “Really?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I can tell you’re serious. I didn’t think anything would come of asking about Chili.”

  Lance negotiated a right turn and accelerated. I snugged into my cushy leather seat. What would it be like to live like this? To have luxury at your fingertips instead of wondering which bills to pay.

  “Which brings me to my second point,” Lance said. “Your part in this investigation is over.”

  My head swiveled his way. “What?”

  “It’s dangerous for civilians to stick their noses in police business. I made sure you were safe tonight, and my presence with you should’ve sent a strong stay-away signal to any guys looking for trouble.”

  Okay, this conversation was veering into strange areas, ones I wasn’t sure I could adequately address in this relaxed frame of mind. “Are you saying someone might’ve been upset by our questions and try to harm me?”

  Lance slowed for a turn onto my street. “You took a risk to help a friend. I did what I thought was expedient in offering my protection by appearing to be your date.”

  I hated it when people talked down to me. “You’re making too much of nothing. We didn’t get a single lead. No one knows where Chili is, least of all, me. And I’m not looking for a boyfriend or a protector. This is Shell Island, for goodness sake.”

  The fury in my words resonated around in his fancy car until he parked in my drive. I knew I’d overreacted as soon as I spoke, but I couldn’t help myself. It was one of the reasons I didn’t drink much. In the last two days, I’d consumed more alcohol than I had in the previous five years.

  “I apologize for snapping at you,” I said. “Your comment implied I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself, and I’ve been doing that for years.”

  Lance didn’t say anything, but his fingers kept squeezing the steering wheel. His knuckles gleamed in the dash light.

  What a mess. I’d let my guard down, blurted out things I shouldn’t, and now there might be repercussions. Would Lance retaliate by tightening the scrutiny on my brother? With Doug already having a police record, anything as much as a speeding ticket could be big trouble for his future.

  I took a deep breath and prepared to make amends. “I do have manners, and other than these last few minutes of exchanging cross words, I had a good time tonight. Thank you for the flowers, dinner, and drinks.”

  He shifted the car into park. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  The thought of what usually happened at the door after a date threw me into a tizzy. “No, thank you. If you want to make sure I’m safely inside, please watch from here. I’m a big girl, and I don’t need a protector.”

  He slanted me a glance. “You always so frank?”

  I shot him my eat-crow-and-die smile. “It’s my best feature.”

  Chapter Six

  My phone began ringing before I put my purse down. I glanced at the display and felt happiness well up from deep within. Pete Merrick, my fiancé, wanted to connect via a video call.

  I eagerly accepted the call. “Hey, Pete. How’s it going?”

  “You’re the first ray of sunshine I’ve had all day. What’s your day been like?”

  His pale face concerned me. His dark hair was a bit too long and lank. Oh, dear. California did not look good on him. Maybe my amateur detective work would cheer him up. “I’m fine, though I’m dead tired after helping look for a friend these last two nights. Chili Bolz is missing.”

  “Who is this Bolz guy?” Pete asked.

  “You met him a long time ago.” I pulled off my shoes and padded to the bedroom. “He’s my fish supplier for Holloway Catering, but he’s also the only surviving son of Mom’s bridge partner, Estelle Bolz. Her other son, Kale, was lost at sea six months ago.”

  “That must feel awful to lose two sons so close together. Did Mrs. Bolz go to the police?”

  “First, we hope Chili is alive.” I flipped on hall lights as I walked, turning them off when I entered my bedroom. “Second, she told the deputies he was missing, they tried to brush her off because he’s an adult. Finally, she convinced them Chili isn’t the leaving type. Now she doesn’t trust them to do a thorough job. She’s upset, Pete, and her anxiety is off the chart. She said Chili always calls every day. Here it is Saturday, for a few more minutes at least, and he’s been missing since Tuesday. I may’ve been the last person to talk to him.”

  “I’m sorry your friend is missing, hon. I wish I was there to help you find him. Were you questioned about his disappearance?”

  “The cops contacted me about it, but not in the way I expected.”

  “How?”

  I clicked on my bedside lamp, cut off the overhead light, and dropped my shoes in the closet. “The deputy who arrested Doug after Mom died, Deputy Lance Hamlyn, was at the second bar I visited last night. He convinced me to combine forces and then followed me home, for safety. Tonight we hit three more bars together seeking news about Chili.”

  Pete’s emerald eyes filled the screen of my phone, suddenly flashing gem bright. “It concerns me that he singled you out. Are you okay with it?”

  “Far as I know, I’m the only other person on the entire island besides Estelle asking questions about Chili Bolz. Deputy Hamlyn said people weren’t opening up to him, but he noticed they spoke readily to me, that’s why he wanted to join forces. I didn’t do it all on my own, though. A friend from elementary school, Vivian Declan, helped me ask twenty-somethings if they’d seen Chili.”

  Pete looked thoughtful. “Learn anything?”

  I smiled at the spark in his eyes, the fresh color in his cheeks. He looked much better now than a few minutes ago. I pulled down the covers and cozied up in a seated position against the pillows, phone resting on my bent knees. “Nope, and so far, no one I’ve met harbors a grudge against Chili. He’s had many charter clients through the years, but none ever lodged an official complaint about him or downgraded his online five-star rating.”

  “He have a first mate on the boat?”

  “Heard he had several over the years. I compiled an anecdotal list of names and passed along the scant information to the deputy.”

  “Good. A trained police officer can follow those leads. I know you love finding things, but there’s a part of me that wants to keep you safe forever.”

  “You’re sweet, but I need to do this. I promised Estelle I’d look for Chili, and that’s what I did. I wasn’t in any danger at the bars or afterward because I had a police escort home. Estelle has no one else, and she’s all alone in the world. I can’t turn my back on her. Besides as Mom’s long-term bridge partner, she’s practically family to me.”

/>   “Let’s think this through for a moment. If her son is missing, it’s bad news. If he’s a screw up and zoned out elsewhere on booze, drugs, or sex, that’s also bad news. And before you protest what a great guy he is, let me assure you that people change. There’s a reason he can’t be found, and whatever it is, it isn’t good.”

  Protests about Chili’s good character automatically sprang to my throat, but they also died there. How well did I know Estelle’s adult son?

  I knew him as a boy, as a man, not so much. Even so, I was Estelle’s only lifeline. “Driving a car can be dangerous. So what?”

  “I understand your need to help others, and I fully support it. I only wish I wasn’t so far away.”

  “Message received. I’ll be careful.” I sighed. “I enjoy helping people. And finding lost things stimulates me in a way I can’t explain, other than it’s necessary.”

  “I’m not trying to put constraints on you. I understand we both have passions. Mine is turning businesses around. North Merrick turned out to be a bad choice, but we both make important choices every day.” He took a slow considering breath and then nodded slightly as if he’d come to some resolution. “I didn’t know how much I’d miss you when I came out to California and then I didn’t make much headway turning this business around. Now I want to walk away but I can’t afford to lose my total investment.”

  “You’ll figure it out. I have complete faith in you. I can hop on a plane if you want company.”

  “A great idea, but I feel like I have to constantly watch my back here. These are not good people and I don’t trust any of them. I won’t put you at risk like that. You’re safer at home in Georgia.” He cleared his throat. “As for our other shared passion, starting our family, any luck in that regard?”

  When we reconnected a few weeks ago, both of us wanted to make up for lost time. Both of us wanted to put down roots and start a family. I wanted to have a baby, Pete’s baby, and my biological clock kept ringing in my ears. “No news on that front. I sure hope I didn’t wait too long to try for a baby.”

  “Are you disappointed?”

  I dithered over my answer, not wanting to offend him or sound too self-centered, and then spoke the blunt truth. “Yes.”

  “We’ll keep trying.” He let out a deep breath. “I want to see you in person. I wish I could hold you in my arms right now.”

  “I want that too, but I’ve had too much to drink tonight to be good company. Soon as we finish talking, I’m falling asleep with my clothes on.”

  His voice roughened. “You’d sleep better if you undressed.”

  A goofy smile filled me from the inside out. We may not agree on everything, but we had each other. That’s what I’d always liked about Pete. He wouldn’t let conflict or geography split us up.

  “You may be right,” I said.

  “Will you undress for me, River?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday passed in a flurry of church, laundry, and baking for the upcoming Chamber of Commerce awards dinner. Some of my desserts froze quite well, and it helped to make things ahead of an event. I spoke with my brother at his trade school briefly, and Doug promised to come home soon for a visit. Though he’d been gone six weeks, it seemed longer.

  Every time I passed the kitchen table with Lance’s flowers I died a little inside. It felt wrong with them in my home, as if I wasn’t honoring my commitment to Pete. I threw the flowers away and felt better within minutes.

  Throughout the day, I thought about Chili’s disappearance. He wouldn’t walk away from his life. His tie to his mother was too strong for that. If Pete was right, then Chili had crossed some bad people or maybe been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had to consider those possibilities. Speaking of Chili, I needed to question his former crew member, Reg.

  I texted Viv for Reg’s number and caught up with him at the beach. I sat down in the sand beside his beach chair. He wore a low-crowned hat, swim trunks, and nothing else. “Hey, Reg.”

  “River, I was surprised to get your text,” Reg said, thumbing his hat up over his eyes. “What’s up?”

  “In the course of asking questions about Chili this weekend, I learned that you crewed for him a few times.”

  Reg nodded. “That’s right.”

  “I’m trying to figure out what happened to Chili and I hoped you could shed some light on his life.”

  “He and I fished together a few times and that was it.”

  “You ever hear him get in an argument with anyone?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you get in an argument with him?”

  “No. Where are you going with this?”

  “Trying to learn if he had enemies.”

  “We parted on good terms. I liked the job, but I didn’t make enough money to pay my bills.”

  “Who are his friends?”

  He rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “You and Viv. Between working and keeping his mother calm that was all he had time for.”

  “I already spoke to Viv, and I haven’t had a real conversation with Chili in years. I wish I knew what happened to him. You got any theories?”

  He pulled his hat down over his eyes. “Nope, but I’m an optimist. If he ain’t dead, he must be alive.”

  On Monday morning, my friend Rosemarie called at seven thirty. “You got time to help with a cleaning today? The rental on Rude Dog Lane is clearing out by noon and the owners insist I clean the day someone leaves.”

  An afternoon of my time, forty dollars in my pocket. I didn’t think twice about it. “Sure, I’ll meet you there. One o’clock, right?”

  “Yes. And why are you fooling around with Deputy Dawg when you’ve got the real thing on the hook?”

  “No fooling around, promise. I’ll tell you more this afternoon.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “Suspense makes any story better. See you later.”

  After ending the call, I showered, dressed, and headed for the kitchen. With a big afternoon ahead of me, I thawed chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and then made egg salad wraps for Rosemarie and me to nibble on later.

  A glance out my window made me smile. The kitty was back, and he had a very compelling way of staring at my window. Good thing I’d picked up cat food at the grocery store yesterday. I emptied a whole can onto a saucer before carrying the food and a bowl of water outside. I set the containers on the deck and then settled in the farthest chair.

  The black cat approached the food cautiously, as if I might serve him bad food, sniffed a time or two, and then inhaled the food like a vacuum cleaner. After drinking most of the water, he retreated to a pool of sunshine near the steps.

  “Who are you, kitty?” I asked. “What’s your name?”

  The animal regarded me steadily as if it were sending me a subliminal message, only I was dialed into the wrong channel. After a bit, the cat lay down and groomed itself. As it changed positions, I discovered the cat was indeed a male.

  I listened to the sounds of nature around us. Insects and birds chittered as our Southern spring got started. After a few weeks of moderate temps and rainfall, we’d feel the heat of summer. Easter would be here soon. How would my life change by then? I could be carrying a child, married, or living on Shell Island with nothing changed. I liked knowing what came next, so it was frustrating not knowing where Pete and I would live.

  Better not to dwell on it. I should live in the now and focus on the people and the cat I could help. Finished with its facial grooming, the cat rested. I wouldn’t say it was comfortable around me, but it tolerated my presence and was making the effort to get to know me. That counted.

  “You remind me so much of my friend’s kitty, Trouble. He had that same intense way of looking at people. He saved me too. My boyfriend thinks I might be in danger because of this case, but mayb
e if I had a kitty like you at my back, I’d be all right.”

  The cat didn’t answer of course. “Are you a Blackie?” No twitch of recognition. I tossed out some more traditional cat names. “Tigger, Midnight, Taz, Whiskers, Shadow, or Inkie?”

  The cat looked away, and I got the message. He hated those names. “Okay, boy, we’ll figure out what suits you soon enough.”

  I checked the time. Hours to go until I helped my friend with housecleaning. I could work on finding Chili, but what would be most fruitful? Cops were looking for him. Not much point in my burning gas driving all over the island. What did TV cops do when they got stumped? They went back to the beginning.

  Estelle phoned me to ask for my help in the beginning. That call led to two nights of barhopping, no progress on the case, and a stay-out-of-it from the deputy. Chili had been gone six days now. A lot could happen in six days.

  Speaking of Estelle, I didn’t hear from her yesterday. She’d called on Friday and Saturday, but not on Sunday. I called her. When she didn’t pick up, I left a message. I waited for a few minutes, but she didn’t return my call.

  How odd.

  Estelle was practically attached to her mobile phone. She would’ve taken my call regardless of where she was because I might have news about Chili.

  A stray thought triggered an involuntary shudder. Could my “where’s Chili” questions at the bar have brought trouble to Estelle’s door? Once that thought rooted, I couldn’t shake my unease. I hurried inside, grabbed my purse, and sped to Estelle’s place in the historic district.

  Her SUV slumbered in the drive. She must be home. I knocked on the door. No answer. No sound at all coming from the house. “Estelle,” I shouted at the door. “Are you okay in there? This is River Holloway. I didn’t hear from you, and you didn’t return my call. Do you need help?”

  No answer. I turned to leave, but the prickly silence weighed on me. I walked around the house, calling her name, looking for anything that might rate a call to the police. The windows were intact, wicker chairs and a table perched on her porch, the garbage can stood upright. Nothing indicated foul play. She didn’t appear to be home.