Murder At Tropical Cove Marina (Cozy Mystery) (Sea Cozy Mysteries Book 1) (2 page)

It was approaching 5 o’clock so I decided to wrap things up. I kept a few extra nice outfits at work just in case of an unexpected outing, and I certainly didn’t want to go out to eat with my tear-sodden blouse, so I changed into my black mid-length dress. I recently gained some extra pounds around my waistline since I entered menopause, and being a little overweight to begin with, I liked to wear black because it makes my body look slimmer. Next, I strapped on my new black high heels. Ethan is 6’2 and me being only 5’2, I needed something to give me a little lift. I touched up my makeup and finally got my brown unruly hair combed out. As I took a last look in the mirror, I noticed a few gray strands of hair coming in. I plucked those out quickly before Ethan showed up. It’s not like I cared, or anything. It just, well, you know. Whenever I thought of Ethan, he still could make my heart flutter and caused butterflies in my stomach.

Ethan was prompt as usual. As we were walking from the marina, the wind started to pick up. Tonight was a bit chilly as the sun was beginning to set so Ethan offered me his jacket. “
Such a gentleman,
” I thought. We didn’t have far to go. We just had to cross the main road a couple hundred feet and the Crab House sat right across the road facing the marina. Anyone who goes to Tropical Cove’s Crab House is in for a special treat. They serve fresh fish and seafood from the local Florida waters. It is one of the finest dining seafood restaurants in town and the atmosphere is elegant and upscale. Once in the restaurant, a waitress I had never seen before, cheerfully sat us at a cozy table for two in the corner by the window. It was fairly quiet and not too busy at the time.

“Hi, Welcome to Tropical Cove’s Crab House. My name is Natalie, I’ll be your waitress. How are you both doin’ this evening?”

“Good,” I answered, at the same time Ethan said, “Fine, Natalie.”

The waitress’ eyes widened when she saw Ethan, and I could swear that she blushed. She regained her composure and recited, “Tonight’s special includes fresh snapper and fillet (broiled, sautéed, or fried) with your choice of either rice pilaf or a baked potato or All-You-Can-Eat blue crabs along with the salad and soup bar for only 29.99.”

I piped up, “I came for your usual Monday night delicacy special, the stone crab and claws.” Stone crab season is mid-October to the middle of May, so it seemed unusual that they were not serving it as the special tonight.

Taking her pen from her pocket, Natalie replied, “The manager apologizes that the shipment got delayed this weekend. Instead, we would be offering our customers All-You-Can-Eat blue crab. I’m truly sorry about that.”

“That’s okay.” Thinking to myself, I wondered how a shipment could get delayed when local fisherman were the ones that harvested and brought the freshest stone crabs to the restaurants in the area. 

“Can I get you any appetizers and drinks to start?” Natalie said as she reached for her order pad.

Ethan ordered for both of us. We come here a lot and he knows what I like. “Clams on the half-shell for me and shrimp cocktail for ‘My Lady’.”

I giggled and he gave a little wink. It sounded so romantic when he said that but we both knew otherwise. It was fun to flirtingly joke around with each other.

“Drinks?” asked Natalie.

“I’d like a virgin strawberry daiquiri,” Ethan responded.

“Make that two,” I chimed in.

“Take your time ordering. I’ll be back with your drinks and appetizers to get your entrée order,” Natalie said as she was leaving the table.

Natalie was back in a flash. “Here you go. Appetizers and daiquiris. Now what can I get you for dinner.” 

We both would like the blue crab special,” Ethan responded for both of us.

“Sounds great, just help yourself to the Buffet Bar—the soup, salad, and crabs are ready and waiting for you,” Natalie gestured. 

While eating our appetizers and sipping on our drinks, Ethan started filling me in on the details of Robert’s death. “The coroner confirmed Robert’s death at 1:30am Monday, January 26. There, uh, was no blunt trauma to the head or body. It looks like he died of asphyxiation. They have not ruled out foul play, though, until further investigation. We have sent his body over to the pathology lab for an autopsy and we will continue questioning people.”

I jumped in. “So that is why you’re not allowing his wife to leave the area just yet. She came in crying today and told me ‘I did not kill Robert. I loved him with all my heart’. Ethan, do you think his wife murdered Robert? They seemed like a happy couple.”

Ethan took a sip of his drink before answering. “Maddie, most mysterious deaths come from natural causes, accidents, or suicide, but, uh, when there are no signs of violence as in Robert’s case, police protocols say we cannot rule out homicide until there’s been an autopsy. The medical examiner will be able to check internally to see if Robert has had any internal bleeding or damaged organs that wouldn’t have been visible at the initial crime scene. I, uh, had a victim once that was car jacked and violently attacked. As a police investigator, I did not find any major bruising to his skin but, uh, when the autopsy was done they found fatal damage to his organs. Also, in a case of poisoning, they have advanced toxicology methods that’ll let us know, though that doesn’t happen very often.”

“Oh.” I digested the explanation full of technical jargon, and realized how inappropriate the subject of conversation was for a couple enjoying a delicious meal. I mentally shrugged and speared a piece of juicy claw meat and took a bite. Not as good as stone crab, but still downright tasty.

My ‘date’ leaned forward and spoke in a quiet voice. “Maddie, that’s where I’d like to ask a little favor of you. Since you’re friendly with a lot of people at the Marina, would it be possible for you to get close to Carol? You know, be her support network, be her friend in a time of need, and maybe ask her a few inconspicuous questions about their relationship and Robert’s whereabouts. She may open up to you.” He leaned back and wiped the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin. “She did have an alibi that, uh, she was sleeping in the sailboat’s cabin at the time of his death. She did not hear him come home, and said he had plans to be out most of the evening drinking with some buddies. She said, uh, she sleeps soundly because she takes an Ambien before bedtime. Knocks her out completely.”

“Ooohhh, I don’t know if I can do that. It sounds so…interrogating. It’s been years since I’ve done anything like that. I’ll have to see if I can refresh my memory from my college years.”

“College years?”

It was my turn to wipe a bit of crab juice from my lips. “Yeah. From when I was studying to become a social worker. A bunch of our classes dealt with interviewing, counseling, and showing empathy. You know, stuff like that.”

“So. You could do it?” He leaned forward again. “It would really help me out. But, well, you don’t have to do it if it makes you feel uncomfortable. Just if you really want to.”

I took a bite of a roll and washed it down with a sip of daiquiri as I considered my answer. I didn’t feel comfortable spying on my friend and customer, but if it would help find out what happened to Robert…Carol would probably want to help, anyway, so it wouldn’t really be spying, anyway. “Wellll…I guess I could. I’ll do it.”

Ethan flashed me a blindingly white grin. “Great—“

“But I reserve the right to change my mind if it doesn’t feel right, O.K.?”

“Of course.” His grin changed slightly, shifting somehow to turn it into a warm smile that made my pulse speed up a bit. “I appreciate it, Maddie. I really do.”

I looked away from his eyes and out the window, saying, “Besides, I really do want to help find out what happened to Robert—and help out the police investigation.”

We had just finished up the last bite of our meal when Natalie came back and asked, “What will you be having for dessert?”

“I guess we’ll have two Key Lime Pies with a touch of whip crème on top,” Ethan responded. He knows me like the back of his hand.

He had finished his pie, and I was halfway through mine—I love to savor the tangy goodness of Key Lime Pie—when a young couple came in and sat in the booth behind me. I overheard the conversation but I caught only a few words at a time: ……… Rob………dead…….arguin’….side… restaurant…….. Guz…...

Ethan’s phone started vibrating as I was eavesdropping on the couple.  The couple was a little difficult to understand because they had a thick southern drawl.

Ethan checked his phone and said, “Sorry, I have to take this call.” He listened for a moment to whomever was on the other end of the call before responding, “Uh-huh, will be there shortly. Just give me a minute.” Ethan turned back to me, “Maddie I have to go. Sorry to do this to you but, uh, the medical examiner found some sort of unusual substance in Robert’s stomach.”

“Hmmm?” I was curious, but decided to not press him for more information. “O.K., I’ll call ya tomorrow.” I waved bye to him and he hustled out of the restaurant. Once he was gone, I decided to eavesdrop a little longer on the couple behind me. I asked the waitress for a cup of coffee to finish my half eaten pie as I sat and planned my next move. I thought,
Well, if Ethan wants me to help with the investigation, I might as well help as best I can.

I stood up and turned to the couple behind me. “Sorry to interrupt,” I apologized, as I put my hand out to shake theirs. “I’m Maddie Ritchfield manager of the Tropical Cove Marina, and I couldn’t help to overhear you talking about Robert. He and his wife were live-aboards for 6 months out the year at our Marina. They are—were—just such a lovely and chatty couple. So full of vim and vigor.”

“Oh nice t’meet ya Maddie. My name’s Gregg, and this here’s ma wife, Candy. We’re out celebratin’ our anniversary. Ain’t it terrible what all happed ta Robert? It’s hard t’believe he kicked over dead. I just saw him a couple of nights b’fore. We was out catchin’.”

“Fishing”?

“Yes Ma’am, Fishin’.” Gregg said. I caught a glimpse of two missing bottom teeth.

“Yeah, I knew that he loved the water and fishing,” I added.

“And loved to tell biggin fish stories. He held his hands apart, with a good yard between them. “Says he caught him a whopper trout up in Canada last year. Course, I ain’t really sure as how I believe ‘im.”

I chuckled. “Yeah. That sounds like him.” I switched gears and asked, “Do you happen to know if anyone would want to hurt Robert?”

He shook his head while trying to drink his mug of beer. It was a failure, and he ended up dribbling a little amber liquid down his shirt front, which he ignored. “No Ma’am. I did overhear him talkin’ to Croc last night and somethin’ about gettin’ in an argument with Guz outside the restaurant and somethin’ or such about huffin’ off mad.”

“Croc?” I replied

“Shawn Hutton, we all just call him Croc,” He said, taking another swig of beer.

I knew Croc. How could I not? He was at the marina daily, wearing the bush hat that looked much like the hat worn by Paul Hogan in the movie,
Crocodile Dundee
. I chuckled, “Oh, yeah. I know Croc.”

“Right, Ma’am. Give him a chat yet?” Gregg said, the words partially muffled by the dinner roll he had stuffed into his mouth.

I shook my head. “Not yet, but he is a year-round live-aboard at our Marina.” I pointed across the street.

“Yeah Ma’am, he got the nice lookin’ sailboat.”

“Oh yes, the MacGregor. It’s sweeet! Maybe I’ll meet up with him tomorrow. Nice talking with you both.”

I quickly went back to my table to put the waitress’ tip down and made my way to the front of the restaurant to pay the bill. As I moved my way through the maze of tables, I saw Mr.
Guzmán
, owner of Tropical Cove Crab House. He was wearing a new fancy gold chain around his neck and when he waved to me, I saw a flashy gold ring on his finger with a big rock that looked expensive enough to pay off the mortgage of my marina.

I waved and said, “
Hola! Cómo está,
Señor
Guzmán?
” Being of Spanish descent, Mr.
Guzmán
has taught me several greetings. I try to practice those each time I see him.

Mr.
Guzmán
replied, “
Buenas tardes, Maddie. Bien, gracias. But very tired. One of these days, ah, I need to get over to the marina. My engine needs a little revvin’ up and ah, I need to take my baby for a spin.
” He seemed a little distracted as he rushed by me as he headed to the kitchen area.

“Hasta la vista!
Seño
r
Guzmán.”

Mr.
Guzmán
owns a 37ft Sea Ray with Twin Engines (300 HP Mercury). We are talking a slick, fast, powerful and expensive speedboat. He keeps it docked at our marina.
Guzmán
is a short man, balding with a round big belly but when he puts on his sailor hat and gets behind the wheel, he looks just like a captain.
Guzmán
is one of the movers and shakers of the town and is constantly involved in civic activities. And he would do anything to help out a friend, family or neighbor in need. Just last year he donated $50,000 to the new free medical clinic that opened last year to help out the uninsured residents in the community.