Death of a Hot Chick

Death of a Hot Chick - Chapter 3

After Wes dropped his bomb shell he left before I caught my breath. When I did, I groaned. "I suppose Granny's boat slips are full. So, what do I do now?"

"That's a rhetorical question, I assume," Kaye said. "You realize this puts a new light on the investigation. Do the police know this? And what is that paper you showed Wes? The title? Why do you have the title?"

"Nicole gave it to me." Which was—maybe not completely true. But she did tell me to take it from her pocket. More or less.

"You say it's your boat?" Kaye took the title. She stared at it for several moments. "The paper is damp, wrinkled, and a bit smudged, but I can definitely read it. Boat owner: Nicole Joline or Cyd Denlinger. There might be some legal ramifications, but you may be right."

My scrub brush and bucket waited for me on top of the boat cabin. "I'm cleaning. Are you helping?"

Kaye stared at the title. I'd already pored over each line and knew every word. But what could I do except listen to her? She said, "Chester Foltz signed the boat over to Nicole, but there's another name first. Not Pop, but that is undoubtedly a nickname, and hardly one to raise such angst. Certainly it denotes familial felicity."

"Oh, come off it. Forget you're a professor for once."

"Arthur Estep. That's the name of the original owner."

"I'm the owner now. I'm working on my boat, and looking for a job. That's it."

Kaye muttered, "Dated, signed, witnessed." She was quiet way too long. Finally, she said, "You do realize this title makes you a suspect."

"But I... You don't..."

"A suspect to the police, you ninny. Not to your sister. But it also means you have an excellent reason to work with me in finding Nicole's killer. So, what else can you tell me?"

Blackmail. Her ever-loving kid tricks. Using an accusation to rope me into helping her.

Kaye started with an easy question. "Let's talk about her boat. Do you know how Nicole got the boat?"

I gave up. She'd won. "Bought it? Maybe that's where all her money went."

"No, she loaned money to some person but insisted he sign over his boat as collateral."

"The Chester guy? And he didn't repay the money."

"Right," Kaye said. She knew she had me. "Now, what did you say about her not having money?"

"Okay, here's the thing. She was broke last night. Officer Yarnell doesn't believe me, but she gave me the last twenty-two dollars in her pocket and went to get thirty more to pay for supplies."

"No, that's not a good story. You'll have me suspecting you. Now, what did she really say?"

"Hey, it's not a story. She was going to pay me zip. She asked me to bill her. She said, 'I'm highly leveraged at the moment,' which to me, means broke."

"Actually, it means borrowing..."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not completely stupid."

"We must assume that was a delaying tactic," Kaye said. "She probably needed to cash a check. Banks aren't open that late." I opened my mouth, but she waved me off. "Okay, ATM's are open. Even so, consider the possibility that her funds were in CDs with a penalty for early payout. Or stocks and bonds with her broker, whom, I might add, would certainly not be available to transfer funds late at night."

"Highly leveraged means broke. Just saying." I grabbed my title. "And I'm putting this away."

Kaye followed me inside the boat. She cleared her throat a couple of times before she said, "Nicole had mentioned buying up controlling stock in her father's foundation. Would that break her?"