Captain Dead Man (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 3) Read online

  Brenda recalled how fit Captain Eddy had been. If one person carried him, that person was also fit, and strong. “It’s hard to imagine someone carrying a body like Captain Eddy without dragging it along the deck. He was strong and fit. I don’t recall seeing any drag marks, so maybe it was two people.”

  She tried not to imagine Captains Scully and Pratt doing anything like this to the man they seemed to love. Both were strong enough, but her stomach churned to think of the captains hiding such a deadly secret beneath their long history of friendship. Surely it had to have been someone just as strong as they were, though.

  “I just don’t know at this point,” Mac said. “I have to agree with your conclusions. I’m told there are no signs of someone being dragged to the cabin. Maybe we’ll find something in the little time we have left. We have to get as much done as possible before we have to leave this boat.” He walked off with his brow furrowed, inspecting the corners the crime scene photographer had captured.

  They did the best they could, but it wasn’t long before the race officials appeared with another copy of the judge’s order and ushered the entire police crew off. As they unloaded bags of evidence and their equipment, Bryce pushed past them like a kid in a candy shop. He didn’t meet either Mac’s or Brenda’s eyes. Instead, he hurried to the front of the boat where he started inspecting the sails and then sat down and began examining the controls at the helm. Mac shook his head in disgust. Brenda was appalled that his friend was acting so callously in this situation and wondered if his behavior made Mac as suspicious as she was starting to become of his motives.

  “You find a place to watch the races,” Mac said to Brenda as he loaded everything into the trunk of a police car. “Try to get a seat where you can observe as many people as possible. I’m going to mingle through the crowds and will stick close to the finish line to be there when the race ends.”

  Brenda found a strategic spot that gave her the opportunity to observe most of the crowd below her. She barely had time to process what had happened that morning. It seemed half the crowd was gossiping about the death, and half the crowd was blithely celebrating as if nothing had happened at all. Everyone cheered and clapped when the three boats lined up alongside a few amateur sailboats that would also take part, even though they knew they had no hope of competing with the three headliners. The captains waved to the crowds on shore and Brenda could see Bryce beaming as bright as the sun that overlooked the stunning boats and the sparkling ocean as the crowd cheered wildly.

  Still, the events of the morning seemed to lodge in her gut like a seasickness. Something was not right, and the uneasy feeling Brenda felt caused her stomach to lurch. Her eyes went to David Williams as he stood on the race officials’ platform and held the starting gun in the air. The captains were in position, hands poised on the ropes of their sails, and David fired the gun. Brenda’s eyes were glued to the sailboats, whose sails suddenly unfurled as they leapt into motion. Sun glistened on the waters and the superb boats were so beautiful and fast she caught her breath. The painting she had seen did not do justice to the real spectacle in front of her.

  Brenda found herself caught up in the race as the crowds thrilled. There were a lot of cheers when Bryce sped ahead of the two seasoned captains for the first half of the race. The buoys that marked the race were bright orange and looped far out into the harbor bay, and as the sailboats sped along their course, some spectators pulled out binoculars to continue watching the farthest part of the race until the boats turned to come back to the harbor for the finish line. Momentarily she wished for a pair of binoculars of her own, forgetting Mac’s instructions to her. She remembered with a start, and scanned the people near her who were all shouting encouragement to their favorites. A voice behind her talked loudly to his friend to be heard over the roar of the spectators.

  “I wonder what happened to Captain Eddy,” the man said. “I thought he always raced his own boat.”

  The man with him answered just as loudly. “I hope he isn’t sick or something. I had all my bets on Eddy. No idea who this new guy is or if they’ll honor a bet on the sailboat if it’s got a new captain.”

  Brenda adjusted her sunglasses and saw the boats had now turned on their course back towards the harbor where they were easier to see. The crowd swelled with agonized cheers as the Eddy was slowly but steadily beginning to lose its lead. Then Bryce tacked around one buoy too widely, and there was a great shout from the crowd as the Scully and then the Pratt overtook him, their sails straining to catch the fierce winds out on the bay. The Scully and the Pratt were now neck-and-neck for the lead! The Sweetfern Harbor throng loudly encouraged the new captain of the Eddy to catch up, happy to be rooting for the underdog.

  “What’s wrong with him?” yelled a woman in front of Brenda.

  Others chimed in until a man shouted. “Something’s wrong with that boat!” He was staring intently into his binoculars. “Oh my gosh...he’s taking on water. I’m sure it’s sinking. Look at the way it’s slowly going down.” The woman next to him didn’t believe him. He handed her the binoculars. “Look for yourself.” More and more people were turning away from watching the Scully and the Pratt racing toward the finish line to watch as Bryce frantically waved his arms for help, holding the radio in one hand.

  Brenda’s gut lurched again. Something was definitely wrong with the Eddy. It now sat perilously low in the water. For a few moments, the crowd was tense with silence, waiting for someone to step in. Brenda immediately looked over to the officials’ platform where she saw David Williams tweaking his earphones off his head as panic swept across his face. Brenda decided to carefully make her way close enough to the officials’ platform to hear more of what was going on. A second later, she saw David speak to his co-officials and hurry from his vantage point on the platform. Most people still watched the activities out on the water, while others focused on David Williams. When he rushed past Brenda, she heard him speak into his headset.

  “Bryce is calling for help. His boat is sinking. Get someone out there immediately.”

  Brenda left her position and raced to keep up with David. “What’s going on?”

  David shook his head. “I don’t know. Bryce signaled an S.O.S. and said the boat is sinking fast. I have no idea what happened.”

  In the meantime, Mac had realized right away something was wrong out on the water. He raced to the rescue crew waiting near the finish line and boarded the speedboat with the medics and rescue team that sped to the scene. Brenda stood helplessly on the sand and noticed Captain Scully had unexpectedly pulled his sails sharply to the side and was turning his boat around. Both captains must have heard Bryce’s call for help on their radios. Scully reached Bryce on the Eddy seconds before the rescue boat arrived.

  Behind Brenda, the crowd stepped out of the stands and moved closer to the edge of the ocean.

  “Look at Pratt,” said a man. “He’s still heading to the finish line.” There were hushed sounds of disbelief from the crowd.

  Brenda stared in horror as Captain Pratt ignored the disaster behind him and crossed the finish line at full speed. He dropped his sails and slowed down and coasted smoothly in to the docks by the racing officials’ stand. But only some in the crowd remained cheering for his empty triumph, and the celebratory mood of the spectators seemed to be muted.

  While the onlookers’ attention was divided between the finish line and the rescue activities, David Williams had returned to his post and pronounced Captain Pratt the winner, his voice echoing over the harbor on the loudspeakers. Captain Pratt lifted the silver cup high in the air for the press photographers and signed some autographs. From a distance, his face was unreadable to Brenda.

  Brenda turned to look as Captain Scully’s boat glided back into harbor, followed by the rescue boat zooming back to shore. Bryce stepped onto the docks looking shaken but safe, wrapped in a blanket from the medics. Mac conferred with the rescue personnel briefly and then radioed all officers in the area to come to a d
esignated location for further orders. Brenda hurried to join them.

  Mac walked toward her and pointed to the waters. “There goes the entire crime scene.”

  “It’s unbelievable. There’s just no way it was a coincidence, Mac.”

  “Whatever happened to sink that boat must relate to the murder of Captain Eddy,” said Mac. “Someone wants to make sure it will be impossible to solve this case.”

  They both watched the crowds gather around Bryce and Captain Scully as they reached the docks and stood for photographs. Reporters peppered them all with questions and seemed to have as many for the winner, Captain Pratt, as they did for the rescuer Captain Scully and the newly minted Captain Bryce Jones with his tragically sunk boat. Brenda shook her head. Everything proceeded as if the earlier events of the day had never happened.

  “It’s no use talking to Scully and Jones now,” said Mac. “As soon as the crowds let them go, I’m bringing both of them in for statements. I have to get to the bottom of all of this. In the meantime, I have officers interviewing everyone they see. If anyone appears to know anything in the least, they are to be brought in for further questioning.”

  Brenda touched his arm, sensing the tension that was gathering in him as this difficult case became more complex by the minute. “Let me know if you need me later today.” She told him of the conversations overheard behind her. “Not everyone knows that Captain Eddy was murdered.” Mac took this in and grasped her hand with his. “I have to head back to the bed and breakfast now. Practically the whole town will be there soon for the celebratory lunch, as is tradition. Phyllis is mostly in charge but I still have a lot of details to oversee. When you get the photos from the crime scene I would appreciate a call from you. Do you mind?”

  For the first time in several hours, Mac smiled at her. “I don’t mind at all. I value your input. You know you’re my secret weapon.” He squeezed her hand again briefly and then turned to address his team of officers who had gathered in the parking lot. She turned to walk back to the Sheffield House as quickly as she could, knowing she still had a busy day ahead of her.

  By the time she returned, all the guests had arrived at the bed and breakfast after the race, and almost all of the luncheon guests were lined up on the lawn at the long tables or grouped around the gardens chatting and eating. Brenda’s staff were overwhelmed and she pitched in immediately, becoming so busy that she barely had time to think. Chef Morgan had prepared the lunch just as she did every year after the annual boat race. Tickets were snapped up in advance since everyone knew they were guaranteed a gourmet spread of hot and cold barbecue sandwiches, numerous salads, tasty desserts, and her famous lemonade and home brewed iced tea. Over the years it had grown to be such a big event that everyone at the Sheffield pitched in, including the owner. Brenda was refilling the lemonade dispenser when she fumbled for her cell phone as it rang.

  “I’ve asked Molly to help at the bed and breakfast,” said Mac. “I know you are busier than ever today. She’ll be right there and she’s bringing Jenny, too.”

  “Thank you, Mac. This is bigger than I expected and we need all the help we can get. Have you had a chance to talk with Bryce and Scully?”

  “They’re on their way now, I’ll fill you in after.”

  Brenda focused on the influx of people in her bed and breakfast. All thoughts of helping Mac at this point proved impossible. The lunch guests buzzed about the events as she moved about the lawn helping her staff. A few comments were overheard that voiced opinions as to whether Pratt should have kept going.

  “I don’t think it was a fair win,” said a woman. She looked to be in her early thirties and Brenda wondered if she knew Bryce Jones. The man next to her seemed to agree. “I mean,” she continued, “he should have gone back to help like Scully did. It’s just good sportsmanship. What fun is it to win a race against no other competitors?”

  Others were less interested in the strange finish than they were in its unusual start. When someone mentioned the death of Captain Eddy, all attention became riveted on the speaker. Brenda didn’t bother trying to calm the rumors. Nothing she could do would change the way any of them thought about the entire affair. She busied herself in the hope that no one would ask her opinion about the death of someone they admired, and tried to shake from her mind that image of Captain Eddy dead in his cabin berth. Brenda went into the kitchen to check with Chef Morgan. Things were proceeding in an orderly fashion and Brenda breathed thanks for her good employees.

  As the afternoon wore on, the diners moved to the gardens and the staff cleared the long tables. There was no formal end time to the luncheon and the guests were free to mingle on the grounds. Some drifted into the sitting room while others sat at the long dining room table to continue their conversations. As they finished eating and talking, the guests trickled back toward the downtown area until the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast began to feel normal again.

  “I can’t tell you how much the two of you are appreciated,” Brenda said. She smiled at Jenny and Molly.

  “We all have to work together in Sweetfern Harbor,” said Jenny as she carried one last tub of dishes to the kitchen. “It’s been quite a weekend. My dad has a lot of work ahead of him. I don’t expect to see him around home much for the next week or so.”

  “He’ll get to the bottom of things,” said Molly. “Are you going to help out with this strange case, Brenda?”

  “I have told him if he needs me to do anything on it, I’ll be available. I was there with him on the boat this morning, as he probably told you, Jenny. But he probably won’t need me until tomorrow. I’m pretty worn out after today.”

  “The two of you make a good team,” said Jenny with a grin. She liked the pretty owner of the bed and breakfast and was pleased that her widower father had found love later in life with Brenda. “Is there anything else we can do here?”

  “I think that’s it. I’ll check in the kitchen to see how it’s going in there. Thank you again.”

  As Brenda stretched across her bed hours later, fully clothed, her cell rang.

  “We have the pictures printed and blown up,” said Mac, sounding just as tired as she felt. “The Chief and I are putting them in order. It’s going to be a long night and I know you’ve had quite a day. We should have things ready in the morning if you want to come down and take a look. We need your input since you were right there at the scene.”

  “I’ll be there. I still can’t believe the judge ruled so quickly to let the race go forward. But I guess there’s nothing to be done about that now.”

  Mac mumbled something under his breath and ended the call. Brenda got his message loud and clear. Mac Rivers was not a fan of this judge, whoever he or she was.

  The next morning, Brenda awoke to find the summer sun shining in her curtains, but she found herself wishing for another few hours of rest. Instead of the murder and the sunken sailboat, she found herself thinking back to Mac’s proposal to her, and his strange reluctance to announce it afterward. It seemed like an event now buried under the pressing call of solving the murder of Captain Eddy. She resolved that if she could not fully understand Mac’s heart, at least she could help him with his investigation.

  Brenda gave careful instructions to her staff and left for the police station. Anxious to see the photos, she almost ran the one light between Sheffield Bed and Breakfast and the police station in town. She slammed on the brakes and gasped, but luckily no one was around. The town was relatively quiet the morning after the race. When she got to the station, by contrast, it was very busy. Several officers came and went through the front door. When she walked up the steps, one stood back and held it open for her, then hurried out to his patrol car with a folder in his hand. She supposed they were chasing down all available leads right now.

  She found Mac and Chief Bob Ingram in his office. Mac handed her a coffee and refilled his own. The Chief declined more coffee when asked, and wearily rubbed his eyes as if he had barely slept. In front of them on a table
were spread the blown-up photographs of the crime scene and the body itself.

  “Fill Brenda in on what you have so far,” said Mac.

  “There’s no doubt in my mind,” said the Chief, “that Captain Eddy’s head was submerged under water, most likely the water in that wooden barrel we saw on the Eddy’s deck. It wasn’t a quick death, either.” The Chief grimaced as he pulled one photo to the top of the stack. Brenda looked on, carefully controlling her expression. “He fought to stay alive. You can see it in the pictures, too, but the autopsy confirmed it after examination of his right hand. His fingernails were torn up and he has long scratch marks to the wrist.” The Chief looked away then, and they were all quiet for a moment as the gravity of the crime hit them. “We have to catch the lowlife who did this to Captain Eddy,” he finished, dropping the photo back on the pile as he sat back wearily in his chair.

  5

  Suspect List

  The photos in front of her mesmerized Brenda, as gory as they were. In blown-up form, she was able to look at the crime scene in a detached manner. It was easier than it had been when she was physically there. She barely heard Mac’s voice. “Whoever did this carried his body to his cabin and positioned him on his bunk.” Mac looked at Brenda, who remained transfixed on the photos. He explained that the police were working on a plan to try to raise the sailboat from the bottom of the harbor, but it would take some time, and there was no guarantee that it would yield any additional evidence anyway.

  She finally looked up at the men. “With no fingerprints and a lost crime scene, we have only his body and these photos.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the desk behind her. “I still think it had to be two people. You said there were no drag marks along the floors. How could one person have carried his body to his cabin and placed him in the bed? Do we have any early leads on a suspect or suspects?” Both men shook their heads in the negative.