“Should I ask why a lawyer runs a fishing business and lives in a lighthouse on an island?”

  “It's a long story but it's going to take a while for your clothes to dry so I guess we have time,” Nick said as he put a plate of cheese and crackers on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa beside me. “I first decided to pursue a law career when I was a kid in high school up in Massachusetts. I think I watched too many of those movies where young, inexperienced lawyers go to small towns and battle the evil corporations who are dumping chemicals into the local drinking water and were turning the townspeople into mutants or something. I wanted to be the heroic lawyer who saves the impoverished communities from the chemicals.

  “My family couldn't afford to send me to college, but I was able to get a scholarship and I got two jobs and worked on my uncle's boat during the summer, taking people on fishing trips. It was tough work but I expected it would be worth it when I was a famous crusading lawyer, and in the mean time I figured that college girls would be very impressed with such a socially conscious young man and wouldn't hesitate to show their appreciation.”

  “And did they?”

  “I can't remember. That was a long time ago. Anyway, I eventually got a degree from a no-name law school and started out to battle the evil corporations. I drove out to a small town about 20 miles away from my house where there was a big factory, and got a sample of their water from a water fountain in a park. I took it to my local pharmacist to see if he could do an analysis for pollutants. He said he didn't do water analysis, but he gave me the name and address of a company that did. I drove my sample there and within a week they had the results. They told me that the sample didn't have any pollutants but they had detected trace amounts of vinegar and dill that shouldn't be in tap water. Apparently, I wasn't careful enough when I cleaned out the pickle jar that I had used to collect the water sample. They charged me $100 and gave me some containers to use if I wanted to bring in any more samples in the future.

  “I spent the next few weeks traveling to small towns around the region and collecting samples of their water, but nothing came back contaminated. Just my luck, the corporations in my area simply weren't evil enough for anyone to want a young, inexperienced lawyer to battle them. Meanwhile, I was still working on my uncle's boat just to make ends meet. One day I heard some other boat captains talking about going down to Golden Happiness Isle in Florida for the winter and doing fishing trips down there. I asked them about it and they told me it was a well known tourist spot off the west coast of Florida, and it was a great place to spend the winter.”

  “So you quit being a lawyer and came down here to start your own fishing business?”

  “Well, at first the plan was just to come down here for a few weeks while I could rethink my law practice, but after a while I got the idea that spending my days finding good spots for fishing, helping the customers reel in the big ones, drinking beer and getting a tan while getting paid good money might not be such a bad career move. So I left the crusading lawyer stuff to the movie lawyers and moved down to Florida permanently. I found out that it was cheaper to live on Admiral Archibald Falls than on Golden Happiness Isle so that's what brought me here. I was working for some other captains for a while, but then I met Brody. He had bought a boat repair shop from his boss when the old man retired, but Brody doesn't exactly have a great head for business and it wasn't going too well. In fact he was just about to close the shop for good, but I saw a lot of potential in it and I had made some pretty good money by that time, so I bought the shop from him and we became partners in the fishing trip business.”

  “Sounds like you made the right choice,” I said.

  “Definitely. I've never been happier. The work isn't easy but I enjoy what I'm doing and I enjoy the atmosphere of the island. It's almost like being on vacation all the time.” Nick leaned back and put his feet up on the table. Looking over at me he asked, “B-T-dub, where are you on the whole vacation decision?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean are you going to make the right choice and stay here or are you trudging back to the frozen wastes of Illinois and back into the arms of Waldo?”

  “I don't think Illinois qualifies as frozen wastes, and going back home has nothing to do with Walter,” I said. “After everything I went through with him we could never get back together, although sometimes I wonder if I was partly to blame for our relationship going sour.”

  “How so?”

  “Oh, you know; men and women are different in some ways and I just couldn't bring myself to do some of the things Walter wanted me to do.”

  Nick sat up straight. “What kind of things did he want you to do?” he asked.

  “It's kind of silly when I think about it now,” I said. “I guess I should have been more open-minded, but I just didn't feel comfortable with it at the time.”

  “Something you'd never done before, is that it?”

  “Exactly. You have to understand I was raised in a very conservative family so this was all new to me. I just don't know if I was right or wrong to refuse to do certain things he wanted me to do.”

  “Why don't you tell me exactly, and in great detail, what he wanted you to do.”

  “I'd rather not. It's too embarrassing.”

  “Look,” Nick said, “you're 32 and I'm 36. We're in different generations. I'm more like a father figure to you. You don't need to be embarrassed to tell me anything.”

  “Well, I'd never dare tell my father about this.”

  “But you forget I'm a lawyer, a counselor. I can give you a professional perspective on this issue. Let me help you, Teri. That's what friends are for.”

  “We're friends all of a sudden?”

  “Okay, acquaintances, but that's even better because you know I don't know you well enough to repeat it. It's like talking to an anonymous advice columnist.”

  “All right, I might as well tell you,” I said. “Walter kept pressuring me to co-sign on a loan so he could get a new truck, and he wanted me to put the payments my credit card. The truck was going to be almost $50,000 and even though Walter promised to put the money in my account regularly to cover the payments, I was afraid to do it because it was a lot of money and he wasn't always very reliable.”

  “That's it?” Nick asked.

  “Yes, it's just that sometimes I think I should have gone ahead and trusted him. It could have made our relationship stronger.”

  “Geeze Louise, Teri, it's a good thing the jackass dumped you or you'd be living in a homeless shelter by now.”

  “You don't think I should have done it, even though we were in love?”

  “Here's what I think about it.” Suddenly Nick leaned over and kissed me. It was an incredible kiss, a sensational kiss, a shocking kiss. I was dazed.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “That was a kiss,” Nick replied. “And a pretty good one, too, if I do say so myself.”

  “But why did you kiss me? We're only acquaintances.”

  “Acquaintances do that sometimes. Besides, you kissed me back so hard that I'll probably have whiplash for the next three days.”

  “I was just trying to be polite.”

  “Gotcha. Good manners are always appreciated around here.” Nick settled back in his seat and closed his eyes. “I'm gonna doze for a while. Wake me when the dryer buzzes.”

  The sun had set by the time Nick dropped me off back at the B&B. I went inside and found Aunt Sam in the kitchen with Dodie.

  “Oh Teri, you're just in time,” Aunt Sam said. “I'm helping Dodie make a Chantilly cake to go with dinner tonight, and by helping I mean I'm mostly sitting and chatting and drinking spearmint iced tea. The pitcher of tea is in the fridge if you'd like to join me.”

  I poured myself a glass of iced tea and sat down. I needed to tell Aunt Sam about Gavin and Dawn, but first I asked, “What's Chantilly cake?”

  Dodie, who was working at the counter, said, “It's just the best cake you'll ever want to sink a tooth into and it's Brody's favorite. Real easy to make, too. I just made a vanilla cake and I cut it into four layers. I'm about to spread some strawberry jam on the bottom layer, then some of this frosting over that and a handful of strawberries, blueberries and blackberries on that. I'll pour the next layer on top and do that till I've got four layers, then I'll cover it all with the frosting and decorate the top with some more strawberries, blueberries and blackberries. The berries are ripe right now so I thought this was a good way to use them.”

  “It looks yummy already,” I said.

  “So what have you been up to today?” Aunt Sam asked. I related my adventures and lack of success in trying to spy on Gavin. “Gavin and Dawn meeting in secret; now that's interesting,” Aunt Sam said. “They're going to a lot of trouble to make sure no one knows about their relationship.”

  “I think they're trying to hide a lot more than their relationship,” I said. “What if they never really broke up?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they could have cooked up a scheme together to have Dawn cozy up to Brent, and once she got him to change his will they murdered him to get the money.”

  “My goodness, you really think so?” Dodie asked. “To do that to your own daddy...”

  “People have been killed for a lot less than a fortune like Brent Maxwell's.”

  “I suppose it's possible,” Aunt Sam said. “Still, there could be other explanations. Gavin could simply see his father's death as an opportunity to get Dawn back and get all the money at the same time.”

  “But why would Dawn want to take him back?”

  “Oh, you never know where the heart will take someone, especially when they haven't much in their head. Dawn may just like having a man in her life, and she's already comfortable with Gavin, so he's as good as anyone. Perhaps that's something you should ask her about.”

  I sighed. “Ugh. Do I really have to talk to Dawn again? Her Crossy Chicken has a better chance of crossing the road than I do in having an adult conversation with her!”

  “Getting any information out of Gavin will be even harder.”

  “Oh, okay. Where is Dawn anyway? Did she come back yet?”

  “Came back about an hour ago, but she went out again,” Dodie said. “She only stopped in to change clothes.”

  “Was Gavin with her?”

  “No, I haven't seen Gavin all day. I think everyone's out of the house right now- oh, except Vanessa. I saw her go into the library a few minutes ago.”

  I heard the front door open and close, and then footsteps came down the hall toward the kitchen. I secretly hoped it wasn't Dawn, since as long as she wasn't in the house I didn't have to try to question her. Fortunately it was Nick who appeared in the doorway, and not Dawn.

  “Hey, folks! I got a call from Brody and he wants to meet up so we can grab a bite to eat,” Nick said. “Mind if I wait for him in here?”

  “You can eat dinner right here if you help me ice this cake,” Dodie said.

  “Okay, I'll help as long as I get to lick the spoon.”

  Just then Vanessa called from the next room, “Where have you been? Do you have my phone charger?” A moment later she walked into the kitchen and saw Nick and said, “Oh, it's you. I heard you come in and thought you were Gavin.”

  “That's the most insulting thing anyone's ever said to me.”

  Vanessa laughed. “He keeps losing his phone charger and taking mine so he can charge his phone. I've half a mind to get a new phone with an incompatible charger just to spite him.” Vanessa's phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket. “If that's him saying he lost my charger- Oh, it's Dawn again! That bimbo keeps calling and calling!”

  “What does she want?” I asked.

  “I don't know; I don't answer her calls.” The phone kept ringing until finally Vanessa pressed the screen to answer. “That fool just won't take a hint, I see,” she muttered. “Dawn, quit bothering me when I'm trying to-- what? I can't understand you...slow down!”

  I couldn't make out what Dawn was saying from where I sat, but I could hear that she was screaming hysterically. “What? Shut up a second and speak clearly!” Vanessa snapped. “You're at the Boathouse Museum? Why the hell are you at the-- What? Someone's chasing you? Who's chasing you? Dawn? Dawn!! Damn it, she's hung up!”

  “What's going on? Is Dawn okay?” Aunt Sam asked.

  “I could barely understand her, the way she was freaking out! She's at a museum for some reason, and she thinks someone's trying to hurt her, or at least I guess that's what she was saying.”

  “We gotta call the sheriff!” Dodie cried.

  “The Boathouse Museum's not far from here!” Nick said as he sprinted toward the door. “I can get there faster than the sheriff can!”

  I jumped to my feet and ran down the hallway after him. He was already on his motorbike by the time I reached the front porch, and I called, “Wait! I'm coming with you!”

  “It could be dangerous!”

  “I'm sure the dashing young sea captain can protect me,” I said as I climbed onto the back of the bike. “Come on, let's go!”

  As we sped down the road toward Archibald Village, I asked Nick, “What is the Boathouse Museum? I didn't see it in town when I visited.”

  “No, you wouldn't have. It's an old boathouse on a back street on the edge of town. It had been abandoned for a few years when the town took it over. Mayor Croaker thought it would make a nice tourist attraction and had it renovated. It was supposed to be a museum showcasing the rich nautical history of the island, but it's turned into a dumping ground for anything even remotely sailing-related that people want to get rid of. They've gotten 'donations' of old fishing poles, boat motors, rusty anchors and all kinds of junk. Old Harvey Wilcox's bronzed baby shoes are even on display there because when he was born his parents owned a boat.”

  “Bronzed baby shoes?” People still do that?”

  “I doubt it, but they did 87 years ago when Harvey was born,” Nick replied. We turned off the main road onto a narrow tree-lined lane. The bike's headlight illuminated a rusty metal sign by the roadside which read “The Marcie Croaker Historic Boathouse Museum” and I could make out the silhouette of the sloping roof of the building above the trees ahead. A minute later we drove into a small gravel parking lot and Nick pulled to a stop in front of the museum.

  “Hey, wait! Let me go in first!” Nick called as I jumped off the bike and ran for the door.

  Before I could answer, the door to the museum flew open and a shadowy figure burst from the darkness inside. “Stop!” I shouted, but an instant later the figure ran right into me, knocking me to the ground. Landing on the gravel was not the most pleasant experience of my life, but I had no time to think about the pain; whoever it was, they were running toward the dark woods that surrounded the parking lot.

  The dark figure didn't get far, though; Nick sprung from his bike and tackled the person, wrestling them to the ground before they had a chance to break free. I stumbled to my feet and rushed over to the motorbike and turned the handlebars to aim the headlight at the would-be fugitive. Nick dragged the person around to face the light, and I was shocked to see the pale, wide-eyed face of Captain Caleb!

  “I didn't do it!” he gasped. “It wasn't me! I didn't do it!”

  “You didn't do what?” Nick shouted, shaking Caleb by the arms.

  A bad feeling was coming over me, and I went to the door of the Boathouse Museum and stepped cautiously inside. The lights in the main gallery were off, but a light shining from the hallway provided enough light to see someone lying motionless on the floor with the spear from a speargun stuck in her back. It was Dawn!

  Chapter 8

  The morning sun was peeking through the gaps in the RV's blinds and the clock beside the bed said 7:45 AM when I got up out of bed and started getting dressed. I felt like I had been run over by an RV and I would have liked nothing better than a few more hours sleep, but there was no point. Sheriff Landon had kept Nick and me up until well after midnight asking questions and going over what we had seen, and even though Aunt Sam had offered to warm something up for me to eat since I had missed dinner, I didn't feel like eating. I was exhausted, but sleep hadn't come easily either, and when it did I was tormented by terrible dreams; dreams of Captain Caleb chasing me with a spear, Brent throwing knives at me, Dawn hitting me in the head with Brent's trophy and a clown chasing me with a water balloon. I think that last dream was the scariest. I don't know why, but clowns freak me out.

  Captain Caleb had been arrested for killing Dawn, and Sheriff Landon was charging him with Brent's murder, too. The spear gun that had fired the deadly spear had been found on the floor of the museum, and it belonged to Caleb. All the time the sheriff was hustling him into the back of the squad car he had kept shouting, “I didn't do it! It wasn't me!” but it seemed like a pretty open and shut case.

  Still feeling only half awake, I crossed the yard to the house and went through the back door to the kitchen. Dodie was at the counter making coffee and she offered me a cup. I took it and sat down at the table.

  “You're sure up early after such a late night,” Dodie said. “How are you doing?”

  “I'll be okay,” I said, sipping slowly at the hot coffee.

  “What you need is a good breakfast. How 'bout some scrambled eggs, spicy sausage and hash browns?”

  My stomach woke up long enough to say, “you can send it down but I'll send it right back up.” “Thanks, but I'll stick to coffee,” I said. “Is Aunt Sam still in bed?”

  “Goodness, no,” Dodie replied. “She was up with the sun, and went out somewhere real early.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “Search me. Must have been important, though, to go out in the small hours like that.”

  The back door swung open and Brody shuffled in, lugging a huge crate of fruit with him. He let it drop with a thump to the floor in front of the kitchen counter and stood up to wipe his brow. “Land sakes, them green oranges is heavier than they look!” he panted.