Digging Up Daisy, page 12
“Did you see Luke with her on more than one occasion?”
“Nah, just the one time.”
“They seemed to get along okay?”
“I think so . . . Why?” Raven’s eyes turned the size of quarters, and she lowered her voice. “Is Luke, like, a suspect?”
Kinsley swiftly shook her head to deny it. The last thing she wanted was to spread gossip about her neighbor’s grandson. Even though the fire coursing through his SUV had left a burning image in her mind. “No, Edna told me Luke was with her that night,” she said adamantly.
“Phew!” Raven wiped her brow and shook her hand out dramatically. “That would’ve been awkward! The guy comes in here, like, all the time. I can’t imagine finding out I’d been waiting on a murderer.”
“Can I get a Coors Light?” A man wearing a polo shirt and matching shorts, as if he’d just stepped off the golf course, slid over to the bar, interrupting them.
“Duty calls,” Raven whispered. “Take care of yourself, girl, I’ll see you soon.”
Before Raven fetched the drink, Kinsley asked, “When you see Pete, can you tell him I was looking for him?”
“You bet!” Raven answered before turning to greet another customer, who slid beside Kinsley at the bar. It was Denny.
Kinsley inwardly composed herself before greeting her competitor after Raven stepped away from them. “Denny,” she said, acknowledging him with a curt nod and forced smile.
“Oh, hey, if it isn’t Kinsley Clark.” Denny returned the smile. “I’m glad I caught you. About the other day—”
Kinsley put up a hand to stop him in his tracks. “It’s nothing. Just drop it, okay?”
“Look, I owe you an apology. Anytime I drink, it’s kinda like ‘loose lips sink ships’ and all that.” He grinned as he absently stroked his beard shadow.
“I accept your apology. But what are you doing here in the middle of the workday ordering a beer? Not busy?” Kinsley sent him the dig and then inwardly chastised herself for acting so childish. Why did she allow herself to stoop to his level?
Denny gave her a once-over. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re in here looking for a cold one, too, so I’m guessing we’re even. Can I buy you a beer? What do you say we call a truce, Misssss Clark?”
“I’ll toast to that.” Kinsley held up an imaginary glass in cheers. “Thanks for the offer, but really, I need to get back to work. Maybe another time.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said that. The very last person on earth she’d share a drink with was Denny Davenport. Ever.
“I’m sure you do,” he rebuked. “I mean, you’re waayy too busy to share a drink with a guy like me. I’d hate for you to compromise your standards.”
Kinsley didn’t have time for this nonsense. “You take care, Denny, and stay away from my plants, you hear?”
“Like I’d bother with them!” He snorted.
“I’m watching you,” she said over her shoulder as she skidded out the door.
The strong wind rolling off the ocean hit Kinsley hard as she meandered down to the marina. Seagulls squawked and dove for food, circling her head, like she was one peck away from being lunch. One of the gulls even scooped up a random French fry along the cliff walk and flew rapidly away, as if to protect its prized possession.
Kinsley brushed the hair away from her face and allowed the wind to do the rest. The stirring smell of salt and kelp caused her to breathe in willingly and center herself after her encounter with Denny. No doubt, he was incorrigible, but she needed to let it go. No sense letting the childish man get under her skin, yet again.
After removing the sunglasses that hung from her shirt, Kinsley adjusted them over her eyes to keep the blinding sequence of sparkles bouncing off the water at bay. The smell of the ocean was replaced by the scent of suntan lotion as she walked closer to the boardwalk, leading to the boat slips. She caught a glimpse of Pete heading in her direction and greeted him with a friendly wave.
“Hey, stranger, heading out for a ride with a client?” Pete teased as he jutted a thumb in the direction of the mooring yachts. “You wouldn’t believe the size of the boat I was just on. I almost hid in the bathroom as a stowaway, just for the chance to ride on her. Have you been on Gail’s Second Wind?”
Kinsley chuckled. “How I wish. No, truthfully, I was looking for you.”
“Me?” Pete grinned, lighting his face in pure joy. He really did have a winning smile. “What gives me the lucky pleasure?”
“The other day, when Becca and I were at your restaurant, you mentioned that you’d share more about Daisy. I just thought I’d stop by to pick your brain and get the scoop.”
“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” Pete asked with a raised brow.
“How can I? When—” Kinsley almost let the shoe slip from her lips, and she stopped herself by biting her lip instead.
“Did you know her? From the other day, I didn’t get the impression that she was a friend of yours.” He cocked his head to one side, as if waiting for an answer.
“No. That’s not the point, it doesn’t matter that I didn’t know her. I can’t let this go. And neither should you,” Kinsley defended. “A young woman’s life was snuffed out way too soon. And in the safety of our exclusive community, where she’d been invited to come and perform. It’s literally unheard of.”
With a large swing of his arm Pete gestured to the exclusive properties that lined the cliff walk. “You’re naive if you think crime only hits in the ghetto. Crime can happen anywhere, chief.” Kinsley often heard Pete address the male patrons who would step up to his bar as “chief.” She’d heard him say on more than one occasion, “What can I get for ya, chief?” However, this was the first time that he addressed her in that way.
“I know crime can happen anywhere, I’m very well aware of that.” Kinsley rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
Pete responded with a deep sigh and then summoned her to follow. “Walk with me.”
Kinsley turned on her heel to follow the bar owner back in the direction of the Blue Lobstah. “I don’t understand why you’re so against trying to find the truth. And why you seem to be avoiding law enforcement if you might know something.” There. She’d finally said it. Kinsley really wanted to know if Pete had any skeletons in his closet and why he seemed so skittish the other day.
“I’m not, I’m just minding my business,” Pete defended, yet started to pick up his pace, as if wanting to avoid her, too.
Kinsley met his stride. “Okay . . .”
“Look, it’s just that I don’t want to get involved. My business is at stake. No way do I want patrons to connect my establishment to anything to do with a local murder. That’s the last thing I want. I’m keeping my distance, and so should you.”
“What about SeaScapes? I run a local business, too, ya know,” Kinsley defended. “That has nothing to do with it.”
“Look, I don’t want any part of it. So keep my name out of your little investigation, okay?”
Pete slowed his stride and held out a pinky for her to shake.
“Really? We’re doing this?” Kinsley teased as she linked pinky fingers with him.
“Swear,” he said. “Or I won’t share a thing.”
“I swear.” Kinsley crossed her heart after their pinky shake was over to double his confidence.
“I saw the girl, Daisy, with Luke, you know . . . the guy who’s related to Edna Williamsburg. They were arguing at the bar. And then some girl came in, got in Daisy’s face, and it got all heated between the three of them. I had to separate them and throw the one girl out of the restaurant.”
“Who was she? I mean, the girl you kicked out of the restaurant?”
Pete shrugged. “Never saw her before, and I haven’t seen her since. I told her to go somewhere else if she wanted to throw punches. Luckily for me, she took me seriously and hasn’t walked through my doors since.”
“Throw punches? That bad?”
“Yeah, that bad. But it gets worse . . .” Pete’s voice trailed off.
“Worse than throwing punches? What the heck happened?”
The color drained from his face. “The girl who was attacking Daisy said, and I quote, ‘You’ll regret this.’ That was the thing she kept saying, over and over. And then I heard that Daisy was found out there in that potato field!” His eyes widened.
Could this girl he was talking about be the one missing an earring? Maybe there was much more to this. Was Luke somehow involved, and did he have a coconspirator? Kinsley kept these musings to herself and waited for Pete to spill more. But she couldn’t help but wonder if the note she’d found in Stacey’s room regarding a meeting time at the Blue Lobstah had something to do with this. Had he summoned them both? Or was it a coincidence that Daisy was with Luke that night?
“I dunno, but I’m not helping to convict someone of murder and have them spend a lifetime in prison, over a word choice. Would you? It’s none of my business.” Pete ran a hand over the unshaven stubble on his cheek, and Kinsley couldn’t help but think he was even more attractive with the five-o’clock shadow. But she didn’t want to be thwarted from the business at hand. She needed to stay focused and not get caught up in the bar owner’s magnetism.
“Whose side was Luke on? Did he seem to side with one of them over the other?”
“Look, that dude’s an idiot, letting those girls fight like feral cats. It was probably his fault the argument escalated out of control; he could’ve stopped it. I hate it when that guy comes into my bar. It seems like drama follows him everywhere he goes.”
“This is important information to share with the police, no? I know you don’t want to get involved but—”
“Did I mention the flowers you planted in the whiskey barrels on the outer deck aren’t looking very good?”
Kinsley hadn’t noticed. “Really? That’s your mode of deflecting the conversation. Hit up my flowers?” she teased.
“Kinsley, I’m serious. I know you’re super busy with the Walk Inns event but if you don’t have time, I’ll just get rid of them. One of my customers commented on them.” Pete then had a faraway look in his eyes and lowered his voice to a mere whisper, as if continuing the conversation with himself. “Maybe patrons are dumping liquor in them or something? Anyhoo, I should just drop the idea of having flowers out on the deck. I have enough on my plate.”
This wasn’t the first business in town where Kinsley’s flowers weren’t thriving. Something fishy was going on, and she needed to get to the bottom of it, and fast. If she found out that it was in fact Denny, she’d officially press charges. “I’ll look into it. This is getting out of hand.”
“What do you mean, out of hand?”
“Someone has been messing with my arrangements in front of Toby’s Taffy, too,” Kinsley admitted. “I have an idea who could be involved, or it could be someone else entirely, sending me a warning. I’m not going to say unless I can absolutely prove it. Didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to convict an innocent person?” she added with a chuckle.
Pete stopped short, and alarm crossed his face. “Kinsley, this isn’t good. What if someone knows you’re poking around and investigating? You could be putting yourself in harm’s way. What if they’re sending you a message to back off, by way of your plants? You’re gonna end up dead as a daisy. Let the cops handle this.”
It’s not exactly like she hadn’t already thought the same thing, but she dismissed it entirely by saying, “Would you reconsider our pinky promise? I feel like you’re just changing the subject, as usual.”
Pete held up a hand in defense. “Look, I told you, I’m not getting involved. Edna sends all her theater groupies to converge over at my bar. I’m not getting on the woman’s bad side by implicating her family members. Trust me, I know nothing.” Pete put his hands over his ears, making himself look like a petulant child. “Besides the fact I don’t know anything, anyway. People argue all the time at my bar.”
“Yeah, they do. But people don’t usually lose their life over it. That, my friend, is not coincidental.”
Kinsley knew Pete’s business was at stake, and she appreciated that. But something in his demeanor made Kinsley feel like there was more to it than that. She really hoped she was wrong, because it was the first time she’d questioned her feelings about the bar owner.
Chapter 17
It had been a long and backbreaking day when Kinsley had finally thrown in her trowel and called it quits. Finally, caught up and back on track in preparation for the Walk Inns, she decided to take a moment and meander to her favorite spot. The week had been so hectic that she hadn’t even had time to have lunch out on the rocks facing the sea, per usual, and she’d missed it. She wondered if her coffee mug was still at her spot, abandoned the morning she’d met up with Edna, or if it had washed away with the tide. She was just about to step off the path and hop onto the rocks when she heard her name called out. Tilly must’ve followed closely on her heels, as she was at the top of the stairs and making her way down to the cliff walk to join her. When Kinsley turned to greet her, Tilly handed over a paper bag.
“What’s this?”
“I brought you a brownie, fresh out of the oven. The one wrapped in a napkin is meant for you. I was hoping you could deliver the rest of them to Edna. I wanted her to know I was thinking of her. I just haven’t had a moment to go over there myself to welcome Baxter back. If I stop over now, she’ll keep me chatting for hours, but if you bring them, maybe you won’t get as hung up? I need to sweep the porch, clean out the pantry, and the refrigerator needs an overhaul . . .” Tilly ticked off the to-do list on her fingers before Kinsley interrupted her.
“Oh yessss! I’d be happy to deliver them, and thanks for saving me one.” Kinsley’s mouth watered in anticipation because her aunt made the best brownies. They were perfectly chewy, filled with chocolate chips, and often were topped off with Heath bar bits. “Can you do me a favor, though? If you happen to see Becca, tell her I’ll be right back? She mentioned she was planning to stop over after her six o’clock showing. I’m sure she’d love a brownie, too, and maybe some lemonade out on the deck? Did you happen to save some back at the inn?” Kinsley reached into the bag, unwrapped the brownie from the napkin, and took a large bite. “Heavens, this is divine, maybe you should make these for the Walk Inns.”
Tilly smiled at the compliment. “Yes, I have more. There’s a batch on the table for my guests, too, so there are plenty to go around, but they’re not quite event-worthy, in my opinion. And yes, I will certainly keep my eyes open for Becca.”
“Can you do me another favor? I left my mug out here the other day. Would you mind bringing it home for me?”
“Sure thing.”
Kinsley hopped onto the rocks and found her coffee mug tucked inside the crevice of her hiding spot. She scooped it up and returned it to Tilly. “Thanks.”
“No problem, and thank you again for delivering these to Edna! Much appreciated!” Tilly said with a wave good-bye before quickly making her way back up the path in the direction of the inn.
Kinsley was happy to oblige, as she wanted to check on their neighbor and see how Baxter was healing, too. After a quick bite of brownie, she licked the crumbs from her lips and made her way back to the path leading to Edna’s. The Williamsburg estate also had a similar access to the cliff walk, however, at the top of the stairs, a grand fence surrounded the property, and the gate was always kept locked. Edna had shared the combination of the lock so that Tilly, or Kinsley, could enter anytime they wanted. Today, however, the gate was halfway open, causing Kinsley to hesitate. The sound of Luke’s voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Luke asked.
“Tell you! Why should I tell you?” A woman’s voice rose an octave with each new syllable. “If it wasn’t for you, none of this would’ve happened.”
“Me? You’re blaming me?” Luke’s voice escalated to meet hers. “You’re the one who wanted in on it, and you’re making it my problem?”
Kinsley held her breath and crouched down beside the fence. She desperately wanted to see whom Luke was speaking with but didn’t want to give herself away. The wind caused a faint scent of suntan lotion to float to Kinsley’s nose. She wondered if the woman had just returned from the beach and caught Luke in front of the gate. From the sound of their voices, they were probably a few feet from her location, but the overgrown shrub roses blocked her. Kinsley crept deeper into the roses despite the thorns thrashing at her arms. Just then her cell phone chimed in her back pocket. She reached to silence it and a thorn tore through her flesh. A text from Becca stating she was on her way.
Kinsley grimaced when she heard the woman say, “What was that? Did you hear that? Was that your phone?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luke said. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
Kinsley gave a sigh of relief. A few moments passed before the woman continued, “I need to find it, and you need to help me.”
“No way, I want no part of this. This is your problem.”
“No!” she hissed. “It’s our problem. If the police find out, they’ll connect the dots. You need to find a way to fix this!”
Kinsley heard a rustling of footsteps on the other side of the gate and she squeezed deeper behind the roses, hoping she wouldn’t be seen.
The gate swung open fully and the woman stomped down the stairs, oblivious to Kinsley. Long, angry strides led the woman to the cliff walk, and she kept pace without a backward glance.
Kinsley instantly recognized the highlighted hair color of the girl who was now tramping angrily down the cliff walk. It was the woman from the photo who had stood next to Daisy in front of the Salty Breeze Inn. The one whose picture had slipped from the Playbill.
