Death of a Hot Chick

Death of a Hot Chick - Chapter 8

10:15 A.M.

When we got into her car, I didn't bother asking Kaye where we were headed. Even before she pulled up at Bayside Marina, I knew we'd be looking at boats for Mr. Joline's charity. Her first words confirmed my fear.

"We need a list of boats that will give us the best possibilities for use by the handicapped."

"I don't get it. What does Total Living Futures have to do with boats?"

"Actually, there is some thought behind the name of the charity. It has to do with the total environment for the handicapped so they may live their lives as their non-handicapped neighbors do. As you mentioned, horseback riding has become an accepted way to improve the lives of the handicapped. Mr. Joline suggests similar benefits would derive from—"

"Do you believe all that? I mean about the boats?"

"That is beside the point. We'll select at least five boat types."

"Five? You're really going to do it? Even though you know it's a stupid idea?"

"Perhaps the idea seems stupid to you, but..." She hesitated, then added, "That consideration is completely irrelevant. When I uncover his duplicity, not to mention the murder of his daughter—"

"I get it. Don't be such a professor." But Kaye was already on her way.

We cruised the marina, jotting down the names of one sailboat, three trawlers, and one go-fast power boat to study further, but murder remained on my mind.

I trailed Kaye as she headed for the parking lot, talking more to myself than to me. "Nicole wrote the note, but why? She sent me after him..." She looked at me. "She obviously believed her father capable of murder. Although you found the note, I'm assuming that originally she wrote it for herself. Possibly as a form of validation."

"Well, sure." Instead of opening Kaye's car door, I said, "I'll see you later. I'm headed for Snapdragon."

"Come with me first. I promised Mr. Joline I'd report at the earliest opportunity," Kaye told me as she opened her door.

"He's expecting you on a Sunday?"

"Probably not," she said. "But we are investigating a murder. I'll have you back in no time at all. Or, perhaps you'd like to stop over for lunch."

I could handle lunch with Kaye. Especially if it included one of her amazing desserts. I got in, pulled the visor down, checked the mirror. I tried to pat my hair into place, but that didn't help much. I pushed the visor back. "Maybe Mr. Joline isn't even home."

Kaye continued driving. She didn't speak until after she pulled up in front of a large home with a sloping lawn, evergreen trees, shrubs, but no flowers. "I told him I'd bring an expert on boats."

"I'm the expert?"

"Yes." As she preceded me up the walk, she added, "Beef up your résumé if he asks."

"Résumé? I have a résumé?"

"Experience, then. Actually, I want you to see the man at home—and his wife if possible. After we leave, I'd like your opinion. In light of Nicole's note, you understand. Did she really fear her father that much? I can't accept that she would have killed him, but, did he kill her?"

"Am I supposed to do psychic tricks now?"

"No," Kaye said. "I'd ask the same of anyone. A second opinion, if you will."

A small woman opened the door. "Yes?" she said. "Oh, you're..."

"I'm Kaye Schroder, Mrs. Joline," Kaye said, holding out a hand to shake. Mrs. Joline stepped back and pulled her hand to her chest. Kaye tipped her head and reclaimed her hand. "This is Cyd Denlinger, the marine expert your husband wants to see."