Moored in Murder Read online

  Secondly, he would be lying if he didn’t admit he was practically in love with the tiny town he’d grown up in. Most people who grew up there moved away as fast as they could. Not Ben. He was intimately attached to every street shop, every restaurant and café, and of course the waterfront.

  Winter in Maine was his absolute favorite, as well. The snow on the houses, on the beach, on the ocean—it all brought him a significant sensation of peace.

  However, at the end, when it came right down to it, there was one major thing holding him there in White Bay.

  Cheryl Black.

  Ever since high school, Ben had been pined after her, trying one thing and then another to impress her. In the end, she was always friendly but never gave off any indication that she had romantic feelings for Ben in return.

  Of course, Ben had never been the best at just saying how he was feeling out loud. He wasn’t the best communicator which often kicked him in the butt when it came to business as well. As a result, he had never blatantly told Cheryl how he felt or even asked her out on a date.

  Sure, they’d gone out to the movies, swimming, bowling, and even had coffee together on a regular basis—but never were any of those declared a “date”.”

  They were good friends and Ben worried he might lose even that if he admitted to a long-time affection for her.

  However, as luck would have it, this lack of initiative had backfired on him.

  When she’d bought the boarding house and taken over as landlady about a year prior, Ben thought he might have died and gone to heaven. This would be his big chance to finally get close enough to confess his true feelings—to stop acting like a fool of a man and just state his true intentions.

  Unfortunately, things never seemed to go according to plan for Ben.

  It was about that time that Grey Masterson started coming around and seeing Cheryl. He had coffee with her at least twice a week now. He brought her gifts, took her to fancy restaurants, and even had her over for Christmas dinner.

  Just thinking about it made Ben want to explode.

  “You bought a boat?” Cheryl asked in a cheerful voice, coyly brushing her long red hair behind one ear and carefully cutting through the tension between the men.

  Ben shrugged, feeling like the wind had been taken out of his sails. He’d been so certain that being a boat owner would impress Cheryl. He had dreams of taking her out for a boat ride on the chilly water one morning and watching the sunrise across the icy ocean. “Old Hank was leaving town, so he let me buy his boat off him.”

  “What?” Cheryl and Grey said in unison.

  Grey stood up. “Hank’s leaving town?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “And he sold you his boat?” Grey practically yelled like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Well, yeah.”

  Grey slowly sat back down. “That doesn’t sound like Hank at all. I wonder if something happened?”

  Ben walked over to the hot coffee pot and finally poured himself a cup. “He refused to tell me and also insisted I don’t go poking my nose into his business.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Cheryl said.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Grey said, standing up. “I better go and see what is happening with him. If someone in town is intimidating him, I better get to the bottom of it.”

  Cheryl’s jaw dropped. “You don’t think that someone here would do something like that, do you?”

  “Honey, you’d be surprised just how rotten small towners can be,” he said, lifting his large puffy blue policeman’s coat from the chair and slipping it on. Walking toward the front hall he paused and pointed a finger at Ben. “And you are going to give his boat back as soon as I clear this all up.”

  Ben didn’t like the accusatory tone and put up his hands defensively. “Hey, that was already the agreement. I’m basically just watching over Betsy while he’s out of town.”

  “Good,” Grey noted. “I’ll be going then.”

  “Call or stop by when you find anything out,” Cheryl called.

  “I will, babe. If I can.”

  Ben visibly cringed at the pet name Grey used.

  Cheryl humored him with a tight smile.

  Giving a wave, he headed down the front hallway and out the door.

  3

  “I hope you didn’t take advantage of Old Hank,” Cheryl admitted, standing up from the kitchen table to fill her now empty mug.

  “Goodness, no. Why would I do that?” Ben defended himself.

  She poured the last of the carafe into her mug. “I don’t know, Ben. Sometimes you get excited about something and don’t always think of everyone else around you or how they might feel.”

  Setting his mug on the counter, he leaned back and folded his arms. “You know me better than that.”

  “I do know you, Ben. I know how you sometimes run off with an idea before even thinking about the consequences. You’ve been that way since high school,” she pointed out, being blunt and straightforward as usual.

  Ben bristled at this accusation. He held his breath in for a second, tempted to puff out his chest and argue with her. He wanted to tell her that she was letting that idiot of a police chief get into her head, convince her of lies and pull her further away from him.

  Thankfully, letting the breath out slowly, he refrained from the outburst. He’d been attending therapy sessions via an online service recently, a small investment that was actually worth his time and money.

  The main thing he’d taken away, so far, was that he needed to step back sometimes before reacting. Why was he wanting to lash out that way? Why was he feeling that way? Where did that feeling source from?

  “You’re right,” he said with a chuckle, smiling at her.

  She glanced up with a hint of surprise in her eyes as she took her seat at the kitchen table. “Huh?

  “I said, you’re right. I’ve made some pretty silly decisions in the past without thinking.”

  Her shocked expression melted into a playful smile. “Yeah, you have,” she teased him, sipping her coffee.

  “Anyway, that isn’t the case here. I was sincerely concerned about Hank. He seemed so stressed like he was afraid of something.”

  “Afraid of something?” she questioned.

  Ben walked over and took the empty seat next to her; the one Grey had been sitting in only minutes earlier. Being next to Cheryl and drinking their morning coffee, even just as friends, felt so right.

  Part of Ben was more than content with the way things were. Friendship was more than good enough for him. It was a closeness and companionship he needed in his solitary life.

  “Yeah, I don’t know. When I tried to ask him what was going on, if there was anything I could do to help, he practically bit my head off. Told me to not get involved.”

  “That’s weird. Doesn’t sound like him at all.”

  “No, it doesn’t, which is why I pressed the issue.”

  Pushing her mug away, Cheryl leaned on the table, resting her head on her arms. Her red and white sweater brushed her cheek, warming it. “Do you think he really is in some kind of trouble?”

  Ben twisted his lips, thinking hard about the encounter. “You know, there was something odd he said.”

  “Yeah?” she asked, sitting back up and grabbing her mug. She took a long drink from it. “I could use something to eat. I can never have my breakfast while Grey is here breathing down my neck.” Pushing her chair back, she headed to the cabinet and pulled out a box of off-brand toaster pastries. Cheryl had never been one for cooking and still sort of ate like she was in high school—something Grey was very verbally opposed to. Thankfully, she hired a fantastic cook to make dinner’s each night for herself and the tenants.

  “He mentioned Leland Drouse,” he noted.

  Cheryl instantly set the box down. “Leland Drouse? That jerk?”

  “He instantly told me to forget when he said it.”

  Her face began to visibly turn red. “I bet
he is threatening Hank for some reason.”

  Ben shrugged. “But what? All Leland cares about is buying up land to develop.”

  “He wants to own the whole town practically and is trying to push out anyone who remotely opposes him.”

  “But all Hank owns is that little shack and his boat,” Ben paused. “well, not the boat anymore.”

  “I’m going to tell Grey. He has to talk to Leland about this.” She started heading for the door.

  Ben was quickly on his feet after her. “He can’t talk to Leland. We don’t even know if there is anything between him and Hank.”

  “I’m going to try. Leland is a bully,” she said, reaching the front hall closet and removing her coat.

  “And he is friends with Grey,” Ben reminded her.

  “So? If there is something illegal going on, Grey will take care of it.”

  Placing a hand on her arm, he stopped her. He lowered his gaze and gave her a look that said, “think again.” She wasn’t the only one that could be blunt and straightforward.

  She sighed, sliding back against the wall. “You’re absolutely right. Grey is a great police chief. He’s brought more safety and comfort to this town than most of the chiefs before him. It’s his personable nature.”

  “I guess,” Ben grunted.

  “But sometimes those personal feelings also can get in the way,” she complained, removing her coat and placing it back into the closet.

  “And we have no way of knowing if Leland really does have anything to do with Hank leaving. Not really,” he reminded her. He didn’t like the idea of the business mogul threatening anyone in town, but he also knew that if there was something shady going on, he certainly couldn’t do anything about it.

  “I hate it when you’re right,” she playfully sneered, heading back to the kitchen and to the box of toaster treats.

  Ben felt his heart skip a beat as he followed her. It almost felt as if she were flirting, but he didn’t want to read into what wasn’t there or jump to conclusions. He’d met one too many guys who were so absorbed in their own masculine ego that they hardly even stopped to think if a woman truly liked them or if she was simply being pleasant.

  Cheryl popped one of the pastries into the toaster next to the knife block—something else that rarely got used in the kitchen since the night cook brought her own set. “You want one?”

  “Sure.” He shrugged, sitting back down with his coffee and sipping it.

  “So, you bought a boat, huh? Can you even afford it?” she asked, trying to lighten the morning’s tense mood.

  “Well, it’s more like I’m renting it. I gave him seventy-five bucks and promised to take care of it until he gets back,” he reiterated the fact that he hadn’t swindled the poor old fellow out of his pride and joy.

  “How very noble of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What are you going to do with it? Move in?” she asked.

  “Move in? Why would I do that?” he wondered curiously.

  “Well, you wouldn’t have to pay me rent anymore, would you?”

  Was she trying to get rid of him? “No, no. I’m not going to live in it. I’m going to turn it into a Valentine’s Day attraction.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Another business idea?”

  He swallowed hard, not sure he wanted to share his new plan. All his others had fallen apart at some point and he didn’t want anyone, even Cheryl, putting a damper on this new one. However, he couldn’t resist sharing with her—hoping it might impress her, even a little. “W-Well, I guess I’m going to turn it into a sort of Love Boat, you know? I’ll get valentine’s sweets and treats. Red and pink decorations. Some fancy wine or champagne.”

  “What for?”

  “Well, I’ll give romantic boat rides along the coast. The couple can snuggle up with each other, enjoy the scenery, and have some booze and chocolate.”

  “You’re going to decorate it?” she questioned, a twitch of a smile on her lips.

  “What is so odd about that?”

  “I’ve seen the way you dress. You don’t exactly have an eye for style.”

  Ben clenched his teeth. This was exactly why he didn’t want to share any info about his idea with her. She had a habit of being a little too harsh with the honesty.

  “Oh, cool your horses,” she waved a hand at him, seeing his agitated expression, as the toaster pastries popped up.

  Maybe they’d known each other a touch too long if she could read him that well.

  She fished the pastries out onto a plate. “I think it’s a nice idea.”

  Ben’s eyes widened and he perked up. “Huh? You do?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be a nice seasonal thing. Nothing too complicated or big like some of your other ideas.”

  “You sure know how to compliment a guy, don’t you?” he grunted.

  Walking over, she set the plate on the table and picked up her own pastry and bit into it. “I’ll come with you to the store today, help you pick out some good stuff.”

  “You will?” he exclaimed, his heart racing faster and faster. Did she really want to go out shopping with him?

  “Sure thing. We can maybe get lunch together or something afterward. It’ll be fun.”

  “Fine then. It’s a date,” he declared, picking up the toaster pastry and taking a big bite. He instantly regretted the words as they left his mouth—but she didn’t correct him either.

  4

  “Here for your usual?” Jake Packer asked upon seeing Ben step through the glass front doors of the local grocery and convenience shop. It was a tiny storefront right smack dab in the middle of Main Street. That was one thing many visitors to the little seaside hamlet never knew. Central Street was the place with all the touristy shops, attractions, and restaurants. Meanwhile, Main Street, just one block over, was for the residents.

  The grocer, the little greasy spoon diner, a café, a thrifty craft store, all of it was geared toward those who already lived in White Bay. The prices were always cheaper as well.

  Still, that didn’t stop any of the business owners there from decorating for the occasion, just in case a tourist did manage to meander on over for a little shopping off the beaten path.

  Jake’s Grocery was no exception. The store looked like a Valentine’s Day truck had exploded all over it. Red, white, and pink streamers hung in loops from the ceiling tiles, wrapped around with white twinkling lights left over from Christmas (Jake had never bothered taking those down come January). Paper hearts with white lace borders dangled on strings. A fat looking plastic statue of Cupid perched on the cash register, ready to prick the hearts of any passersby.

  Ben wondered if cupid’s arrow might finally strike Cheryl’s heart this year.

  “I got your regular order right here for you,” Jake went on, lifting the bag from behind the counter. It was filled with all manner of easy to prepare and cheap prepackaged foods. TV dinners he could warm up in the microwave in the room he rented, a bag of spicy flavored corn chips, another of BBQ potato chips, a loaf of white bread with peanut butter and raspberry preserves for sandwiches, and—of course—a box of breakfast cereal with a dancing waffle cartoon on the front. To top it all off was his usual six-pack of locally crafted caramel stout beer—the only real item he ever splurged on.

  Ben’s face warmed with embarrassment at the sight of all the junky food he always ate, worried that his date would think less of him. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple jumping up and down like a dancing bean. “N-no, thanks, Jake. I’m not here for that today.”

  “I hope you have some toaster pastries in that bag. You owe me one,” Cheryl joked, bopping Ben with her hip.

  Now, was that flirting, Ben wondered? He could never tell.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you two had come together,” Jake pointed out, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously at them.

  Ben glared so hard at his old friend that he thought his own eyes might actually shoot daggers through the man.

  “Just here
for some Valentine’s shopping,” Cheryl declared, grabbing Ben’s arm with one hand and leading him toward the seasonal aisle.

  As they moved away, Jake practically squealed with excitement watching them together. “Let me know if you need any help,” the shop owner practically sang, waving at them. His loud voice drew more attention to Cheryl and Ben. He wanted to just fall over dead from embarrassment. What was Cheryl doing? Did she want crazy rumors to start flying all around town about them?