Trawling for Trouble: A Celebration Bay Mystery Novella Read online

  “Maybe if they see that you brought Liv and Chaz in for questioning, too, they might not be so convinced that you’re planning to accuse them of murder. It also might loosen their tongues.”

  Bill huffed out a resigned sigh. He pressed the intercom. “Have Mr. O’Reilly and Mr. Jacobs brought to my office.” He turned back to Liv and Chaz.

  Chaz glanced at Liv. “I don’t suppose you’ve discovered the identity of the dead man?”

  “Not as yet,” Bill said. “However, it’s only been a few hours. I’m having his fingerprints checked with IAFIS.”

  “That’s the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System.” Chaz smiled at Liv.

  “Thanks, I know.”

  He shrugged. “No ID?” he asked Bill.

  Bill shook his head. “His pockets were empty. Completely.”

  “Hmm,” Chaz said. “Think it was a robbery gone bad?”

  “Is that your reporter self or your concerned citizen self asking?”

  Chaz smiled lazily. “Just want to make sure the Boy Scout campout will be safe.”

  A.K. snorted.

  Bill almost smiled. “You know, I’m the one supposed to be doing the questioning.”

  The door opened and Seamus and Gus walked in, their hats in their hands and accompanied by a policeman, who was trying not to look like a guard, but was pretty much failing. Liv could feel the animosity in the air.

  These two men resented being taken to the station, and from what little Liv knew about post-traumatic stress, maybe were afraid of being penned in.

  “Seamus, Gus, I want to thank you for coming in and making your statements.”

  They both nodded minutely. Gus cut a look toward Chaz and Liv.

  “Chaz and Liv here have also come to make their statements. I just need to talk to you two again before I cut you loose.”

  A look passed between the two men. It was almost as if they could communicate without talking.

  “I’ll get someone to order you some lunch.” Bill leaned back in the chair. “But first I want you to tell me about fishing last night.”

  Seamus cut his eyes toward Liv and Chaz. “Nothing worth catching, threw it all back. Except for the one we kept for Miss Ida.”

  “You were out all night and only caught one big enough to keep?”

  “Nothing big enough to keep.” Gus turned to Liv. “’Cept Miss Ida’s.”

  Liv couldn’t help but smile at their single-mindedness and their obvious affection for Miss Ida. Was she being naive? They weren’t children, more like . . . skittish animals. But skittish animals could be dangerous. Is that what had happened to the dead man? They got frightened and . . .

  “She’s looking forward to cooking it,” Chaz said. “It was a beaut.”

  Another quick look between them, then Gus said, “Left it in the freezer at the camp. Told her we’d bring it around.”

  “If it’s all right with Bill, would you like us to pick it up on our way home?” Chaz asked. Then he gave the room his goofiest smile. “I’m invited to dinner.”

  Seamus shot a quick look at Gus. “We can take it.”

  Liv was hard put to tell if they were trying to hide something or just not used to talking to other people. And as far as she knew, Chaz hadn’t been invited to dinner. But she thought she knew what he was up to. He wasn’t interested in the fish; he wanted to get another look at the camp. Now, why was that?

  “Whatever you want,” Chaz said. “But we have to drive right past there. Just trying to save you a trip.”

  Once again the two men exchanged looks.

  “Can’t eat it tonight,” Seamus said. “Needs to be thawed.”

  “Sunday dinner.”

  Another passed look. “No telling when we’re gonna get out of here. Might as well let him take it.”

  “It’s all wrapped up in paper real good. Got Miss Ida’s name on it, so nobody don’t take it.” Gus pointed a finger. “You tell her to let it thaw slow.”

  “Will do.”

  “Don’t let it start to thaw while you’re taking it to her,” Gus added. “Put it right in her freezer when you get there.”

  “Don’t want her thinking we gave ’em bad fish,” Seamus added.

  “I’ll put it in a bag of ice in my cooler.”

  Liv didn’t bother to say they didn’t have his car or his cooler.

  Seamus kneaded his cap. “When can we go, Sheriff?”

  “As soon as I’m satisfied with your answers.” Bill buzzed the patrolman in. “Take these two to room C.”

  The two fishermen immediately drew together—on the defensive.

  “Seamus, Gus, I’m not going to arrest you if you’re not guilty and if you tell the truth. Simple as that. As soon as you tell me everything”—he emphasized the word—“you’ll be free to go, just like Liv and Chaz will be free to go once they’ve given their statements.”

  The officer stood back and the two men shuffled out the door

  “Send out for pizza or something,” Bill said.

  “Yes sir.” The officer left the room.

  Bill turned to A.K. “Don’t start with me.”

  “They served their country and they got nothing but grief for it.”

  “I get that. But it doesn’t change the fact that they are known smugglers, unpredictable, and possibly violent if provoked. I’m trying to be as respectful as I can.”

  A.K. nodded. “Chaz, Liv.” He turned on his heel and walked out. Liv couldn’t help make the comparison between him and the two shuffling vets who had preceded him. And she wondered if A.K. lived with his own demons.

  “About face, march,” Chaz said, watching the door close behind A.K..

  “Do you think Gus and Seamus went to war as marines?” Liv asked, surprised and little in awe of A.K.’s reaction. A kindness and a loyalty and camaraderie that was as meaningful as it was proprietary.

  “Seems more like infantry to me.” Bill looked over at the secretary, whom Liv had totally forgotten was in the room. “Which one of you would like to go first?”

  * * *

  It took about half an hour for both Liv and Chaz to give their statements. They did so singly, and since Liv remembered to just answer the questions and not embellish, she figured Chaz was doing the same, not mentioning their little snooping on the Seaworthy.

  They met in the reception area and headed toward Liv’s car.

  “Compare notes?” she asked Chaz, who was frowning out the window.

  His head swiveled toward her. “I told him you caught a big one but we decided not to have him mounted.”

  “Very funny. Are we really picking up the fish?”

  “Yeah, but drop by my office first, I want to get the cooler.”

  And that was all he volunteered. She stopped at the curb and Chaz ran into the Clarion office, returning two minutes later with the same cooler he’d brought out on the lake.

  They drove to the camp and pulled into the empty parking area.

  “I hope the manager is here so we can get in,” Liv said, but Chaz was already out of the car. Instead of going directly inside to get the fish, he stood with his hands on his hips, looking first out to the pier, then into the woods.

  There were no signs of police or even crime tape, which must mean that the area was clear.

  “What? Now are you thinking he was killed on-site and thrown into the water? Or driven here and dumped?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nope to which?”

  “I think he was killed somewhere else and dumped overboard.”

  “Because of the blood you found on the Seaworthy?”

  “Partly.” He walked away from her toward the path that led through the woods.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “To look around. Get the fish, I’ll be back
.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard those words before.” But she grabbed the cooler and went into the office to get the fish.

  The door was unlocked, so she went inside. It was dark and smelled of damp and fish stuff.

  “Hello? Manny? It’s Liv Montgomery. I’m just here to pick up the fish Seamus froze for Miss Ida.”

  Not a sound from the backroom, which also was dark. The hairs on Liv’s arms lifted.

  She reminded herself that Manny’s car wasn’t parked outside, so most likely the manager wasn’t there.

  She flipped on the light switch and was relieved to see just an empty room filled with fishing equipment.

  “Manny?” she called, a little louder.

  Nothing. She put the cooler down by the freezer and, just to satisfy her curiosity, took a detour to peek in the back room. A desk and a chair patched with gaffer tape. A group of rods and reels balanced in one corner. A wooden hinged box that looked like something that belonged in a barn and would hold feed. Maybe fish food?

  She decided to leave it unexplored. After all she wasn’t looking for clues, just a frozen lake trout.

  She went back into the main room and crossed to the freezer. Attempted to lift the top but it wouldn’t budge. Tried again, then saw the keyhole. It was locked.

  To keep all those trout thieves at bay—real desperadoes.

  The key was hanging by a piece of string from a nail in the wall. She looped it off and unlocked the freezer. Pushed the top open and was hit by a blast of cold air.

  She saw right away they were in big trouble.

  Chapter 6

  Liv closed the lid on the freezer and went out to find Chaz. He was nowhere to be seen.

  “Chaz!”

  His head appeared over the gunwale of the Seaworthy.

  She marched toward him.

  Chaz jumped to the pier and met her halfway. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

  “The fish is bigger than the cooler.”

  Chaz shot his hand through his hair. “That’s it? The fish is too big for the cooler?”

  “Well, yeah. What should I do?”

  He shook his head. “Leave it there and come look at this.”

  He started back to the Seaworthy; Liv followed and jumped down after him.

  “So here is the dried blood I saw this morning.”

  Liv leaned over and looked at the stain. It was pretty high up on the molded bench, just where someone might have leaned against it.

  Chaz pulled his T-shirt over his head.

  Liv stepped back, a bit confused and not totally unaware of some pretty impressive muscles. And just a bit embarrassed when she realized he was merely using it to lift the seat off the bench. “Boaters usually keep some cushions to soften the ride.” The top lifted off, revealing two faded and musty-smelling cushions.

  “And if I’m not mistaken . . .” Chaz pointed to a stain on the cushion, careful not to touch anything.

  “I guess you wouldn’t gut fish over a cushion.”

  “Nope. And this is right where I’d expect to find blood if the victim was still alive and shot in the back. He leans back against the side, and as he sits there, the blood continues to drip down and onto the seat cushion.”

  Liv nodded. “Which means he was still alive when he was in the boat . . . if this really is his blood.”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you think Bill has seen this?”

  “Not if he’s waiting for probable cause. Which he might get if he keeps Gus and Seamus long enough. One of them is bound to crack.” He pulled his shirt back on. “I think we should leave before we mess up a possible crime scene.”

  Liv stopped. “You think Gus and Seamus killed that guy?”

  “I don’t know about that. We don’t know what they were doing last night or why. But I’ll bet you dollars to donuts the stiff was on their boat and they or someone else pushed him over the side.”

  “Why wouldn’t they go farther out where it’s deeper and the guy would be harder to finder?”

  “Good question.”

  “Did you see them come in this morning?”

  “They were just coming in when I drove up.”

  “So the Truth or Consequences was already here?”

  “Yeah, I brought it over a few days ago. I had a bunch of hires, a couple for a few hours and two for night fishing, and it’s less hassle getting in and out of port. The Cove Marina is like Grand Central station in the summer. You can’t even find a place to park.”

  “Maybe they were trying to get him to a doctor and realized it was too late.”

  “And panicked and threw the body overboard where no one would find it,” Chaz said, more to himself than to Liv. “That’s an idea. If they had actually killed him themselves, they would have taken the body out to the middle of the lake and weighted it down.”

  Liv shivered.

  “It’s deep out there, and he might never have been found. As it is . . . I wonder who the hell he is? And what Gus and Seamus were involved in.”

  He climbed up to the pier and, with an admonishment for her not to touch anything, pulled Liv off the boat.

  “Let’s go get that fish, then I want to do some research.”

  They discovered that by placing the trout diagonally into their cooler, mouth first, only a bit of tail was left sticking out. Chaz opened one of the ice bags they’d found in the freezer and poured it around the rest of the fish. Liv wrote a note saying they had taken the fish for Miss Ida and left three dollars for the ice they’d taken. She folded the paper into a tent and stuck it and the money on the top of the freezer where the manager would see it when he returned.

  Chaz put the cooler in Liv’s trunk, and they drove across town to deliver the fish to her landladies.

  Liv also planned to make Chaz call the sheriff and tell him what he’d found. For as much as Chaz always said he didn’t want to get involved, he couldn’t help himself. Too many years of nosing out the news. He’d once told her it was an addiction, one he was trying to kick, and she kept dragging him back into it.

  It was dark when Liv pulled into the driveway of the Zimmermans’ Victorian house. She parked in front of her own more lowly (but much loved) carriage house and they took the cooler to the Zimmermans’ back door.

  Miss Ida and Miss Edna were enthusiastic over the size and weight of the fish. They sent Chaz to the basement to put it right in the deep freeze. Whiskey was more inclined to taste it first, and the greedy little Westie followed Chaz into the depths of the basement.

  Ida had a biscuit for Whiskey when he returned.

  “What about me?” Chaz asked.

  “Well, it’s a little early for dinner. Would you like some tea?” she asked.

  “Or a beer?” Edna added. “Liv and Chaz have been up since before daybreak. I’m sure they’re both hungry. I’ll call over to Mr. Salvatini’s and ask the boys to bring over some salad and pizza.”

  “I’ll get the glasses,” Ida said. “And while we’re waiting you can tell us everything that’s been going on.”

  * * *

  It was during pizza and the six o’clock news that they learned more about the drowning of an unidentified man in the lake. The station asked for anyone with information to please come forward and left a number for them to call.

  “You can believe Bill didn’t okay that story,” said Chaz, wrapping a string of cheese around his finger.

  “He didn’t really drown, did he?” Edna asked.

  “Well, he might have,” Chaz said. “After someone shot him and dumped him in the lake.”

  “How terrible.” Ida pursed her lips. “I hope they don’t blame it on Gus and Seamus. That would be so sad.”

  Liv saw Chaz’s interest perk up.

  “Why, Miss Ida? You don’t think they might be guilty?”

&
nbsp; “I don’t believe they killed anybody. Not since the war, that is.” She shook her head. “Those poor men. The O’Reillys’ had eight children, all girls except Seamus. I remember the day he came into school to show his sisters his new uniform. So proud he was.” Miss Ida sighed.

  “His mother cried, I remember,” Edna said, taking up the story. “He was one of the lucky ones, I guess. He came back, no injuries that you could see. He never was the same though. Couldn’t get much help for what ailed him. They didn’t know then what they know now about post-traumatic stress.

  “He lived off in the woods. Then one day Gus came to town looking for his buddy from the war. He never left. The two of them live out there by themselves. They come into town on occasion, and Ida and I try to give them some work when we can.”

  Edna’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s just not right. Any of it.” She took a fortifying sip of wine, and slapped her knees. “Well, let’s just hope Bill Gunnison finds the real murderer before people start getting all sorts of notions.”

  Ida nodded slowly. “I’m afraid those two have been in trouble before.”

  “For what?” Liv asked. “They aren’t violent, are they?”

  Liv didn’t want to think of the sisters’ generosity putting them in danger’s way.

  “I suppose they could be,” Edna said.

  “But they never have been anything but polite around us,” Ida added.

  “Well, I think you should steer clear of them until this blows over,” Chaz said. “You can’t be sure what will trigger them to go over the edge. They looked pretty upset today at the thought of having to stay in jail.”

  “Hopefully Bill has let them go,” Liv said. She stifled a yawn. It was early, but she wasn’t used to getting up at four thirty in the morning, and she’d only had one, maybe two, cups of coffee all day.

  Chaz stood. “Thanks for the dinner, but I really need to get going. And Liv looks like she’s about to fall asleep over her pizza.”

  Liv stood.

  Whiskey wriggled out from under the table, where he was doing vacuum cleaner duty. He sniffed the air a couple of times.