Murder is a Beach (Maggie, PI Mysteries) Page 5

  I grabbed her arm. “We have to go, Grandma.”

  If looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried. I’d just perpetrated the ultimate offense as far as Dorothy was concerned. “What is wrong with you?” She scowled.

  “The manager and the other man are watching us. I think they’re on to us. I shouldn’t have listed my real name. They probably saw my name in the paper,” I said.

  “Excuse me, young lady, but can we please be seated now?” the tall man asked.

  The group of people looked at me expectantly. Oh great. Now they thought I worked here. I just wanted to get out of the Captain’s Quarters. It didn’t matter to me that they claimed to have the best seafood in Miami.

  The woman holding the baby said, “Daddy, I don’t think they work here.”

  He looked me up and down, waiting for an answer.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t work here,” I said.

  He shrugged and stepped to the side. “Oh, well, I’m terribly sorry.”

  I glanced back and noticed that the men weren’t there anymore. Thank goodness. Maybe now I could get out of there. I motioned for Dorothy to follow me.

  We’d made it to the door and my hand was on the handle when someone grabbed my arm from behind. I gasped and spun around. The manager was standing directly behind me. I had to think quickly.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” he said with a wide smile.

  Yeah, I bet he was. I plastered a fake smile on my face. “Oh, is there something we forgot?” I asked sweetly.

  “I was wondering when y’all can start working?”

  I looked at him for a moment and didn’t say a word. His words weren’t registering.

  Dorothy finally answered for me. “We can start right away.”

  “Can you work tonight?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I finally managed to squeak out.

  “Great. Be here at five and we can go over a few things.” He smiled and held out his hand.

  I grasped it, but I was still suspicious. It seemed odd that he’d changed his demeanor so quickly.

  He must have sensed my skepticism because he said, “We just had someone else quit, so we really don’t have time to go through the usual hiring process.” He smiled widely.

  Dorothy nodded. “We understand. Thanks again for opportunity.”

  He nodded, then turned and walked away.

  Dorothy studied me for a second, then said, “What’s the matter with you?”

  I shrugged. “I just think something is up.”

  “Well, he probably is up to something, but we still have to find out what is going on around here. Come on. I have a few things to do before I start my new job.” She motioned for me to follow.

  “You seem a little too excited about this,” I said as I walked across the parking lot.

  “It’s an adventure. What’s not to be excited about?” She tossed her hands up.

  When I looked back, the manager and the other woman who had been watching us were standing at the door.

  “The manager and that woman are watching us,” I said. Dorothy started to turn around. “Don’t look back.”

  “Oh, you’re just being paranoid.” Dorothy waved her hand.

  “I intend on finding out what they’re up to.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I wasn’t sure I was prepared for my new job at the restaurant, but it looked as if I was about to find out if I could keep from dropping food on someone’s lap.

  After I picked up Dorothy, we headed inside to report for our first shift. The place was already full of customers. The manager spotted us right away. It wasn’t the same man who had hired us, but the word ‘manager’ was written on his nametag.

  “You must be the new staff. Come on to the back and we’ll find you a uniform.” He headed toward the back at a quick pace. Dorothy and I rushed to keep up with him.

  He looked me up and down, then shoved a pair of pants and a shirt at me. “Here, this should work.”

  I held up the clothing. “They’re a little big, don’t you think?”

  He stared.

  “I’ll make it work,” I said.

  Dorothy grabbed the shirt and pants from him with a frown. He didn’t notice or didn’t care, I wasn’t sure which. After finding clothing for us, he left us in the dressing area.

  “Can you believe this?” Dorothy said, holding up my shirt. “How am I supposed to fit my chest in here?”

  “My pants are too big and my shirt is too small,” I said, tugging on my sleeves.

  Dorothy and I dressed and headed back toward the front. The manager looked up and motioned for us to come closer.

  “Okay, you’ve got section four,” he said as she shoved a tray into my hands.

  “Where is section four?” I asked.

  He glared at me as if I’d asked the dumbest question he’d ever heard. “In the middle. That table over there to that table.” He pointed.

  I nodded, still not entirely sure which tables he meant. He grabbed Dorothy’s arm and herded her behind the bar.

  That was the last I saw of her for several hours. I was almost positive she was behind the bar because I caught glimpses of her as I zoomed past the counter with food in my hands.

  All of my food orders consisted of at least six plates. It seemed as if every table was at full capacity. I gathered the food from the order window and shuffled it around on my tray. The thing was full of food and there was barely any room to fit another thing on that tray. I knew that people were waiting on the food, and no doubt they expected it to be hot when it arrived. The chef was repeatedly yelling at me, but what he failed to realize was that only slowed me down. I was so nervous I didn’t know if I was coming or going. How did he expect me to get that food out there with all the shouting?

  “Are you going to pick up this food or not?” he roared again.

  I rushed back over. “Right away,” I said with a fake smile.

  “You took so long that the food is probably already cold. If the food is cold the customers will blame me,” he said.

  I didn’t know why he was so worried. His cooking skills didn’t seem to be too great in my opinion anyway. I grabbed up the food and carried it across the room with the tray on my shoulder. The thing was painful, but at least I hadn’t dropped it yet.

  As I made my way across the dining room floor, people yelled at me. I tried to ignore it and continued across the room. Unfortunately, I had tables on each side of the room and in the middle. I didn’t know where to start first, so I decided to take food to the corner on the left and then figured I’d make my way to the other corner of the room. After that, I’d hit the middle. But the customers shrieked at me from one side as I hurried over to the other. It was like having surround sound. I couldn’t make these people happy. They all wanted me to help them over the other guests. I only had two feet and I only had two hands. I could only move so fast. This was a lot harder than it looked.

  I lowered the tray of food and was doing a nice job of balancing it, I thought. I grabbed plates from the tray and placed them on the table in front of the customer. He frowned and didn’t even say thank you. But I didn’t have time for a thank you anyway because the next table was waiting for me. I rushed away so that I could get to the next customer before they started yelling again.

  Once I was in front of the table, I set the plate down, but before I knew it, the other table was hollering at me again. I was ready to cry or scream, maybe both. I ran back over to the man.

  “Yes, sir? Is everything okay?” I asked with a sweet voice.

  He looked at me and said, “This is the wrong food. I want you to bring the right stuff.”

  I looked down at the plate. “But you’ve already eaten some of it.”

  “Well, how do you think I knew it was the wrong food?” he asked.

  I had no other choice but take the food back. The customer was always right, right? The chef was going to kill me. I had to pick the plate up and take it back.

  “I
’ll be right back with your food,” I said as I grabbed the plate and put it back on the tray.

  Even though I needed to get this plate back to the kitchen, I knew I had to take the other food to the waiting customer. There was no way they would wait while I went back to the kitchen. As fast as I could run with a tray in my hands, I moved over to the table and placed the food down. The man scowled at me. I looked down. Apparently, I had given him the half-eaten fish from the other table.

  “It’s got a bite taken out of it,” he said with a frown.

  Actually the food had several bites taken out of it, but I didn’t want to press the issue. I knew I wasn’t getting a tip from them anyway.

  “Sorry,” I said, grabbing the plate.

  I’d suspected I would be terrible at this job, but I’d had no idea I would be this bad.

  So now I only had one plate of food left. Surely I could handle that. This was going to the man in the middle of the room staring at me. I could do this, I told myself. If only I had a clear shot at him, there would be no way I would mess this order up, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

  There was a crowd in the middle of the room, so I had to maneuver around the floor. I looked down at the plate. Yes, I was pretty sure this was what he had ordered. Things were going well as I weaved around the room. My focus was fixed on the man. I reached the table with success. I leaned forward to place the plate down in front of him. But I somehow lost my balance and the plate went forward and all of the shrimp fell onto his lap.

  The man jumped up. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m so sorry.” I bent down to the floor and feverishly began picking up the shrimp piece by piece and placing it back on the plate. “I can get you more food. I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t bother,” he snapped, tossing down the napkin that he’d been using to clean his pants.

  He stormed off across the room. I knew he was going to talk to the manager and I would be in even bigger trouble. I had been worried about Dorothy blowing our cover, but it looked like that job was reserved for me. I needed to get my act together before it was too late.

  When I looked up, I felt eyes on me. The manager was glaring at me. He motioned for me to come over and I knew this was not good. The man I’d dumped food on had just walked out of the restaurant. I made my way across the room like I was being sent to the principal’s office.

  Luckily his lecture wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. He wanted to know what the heck was wrong with me, of course, and if I had really ever waited tables before. “I was just having an off day,” I told him.

  Chapter Twelve

  After several more hours, my feet hurt and I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed. Well, after I showered the seafood smell from my hair and skin. I’d known waiting tables was hard work, but there were muscles in my body aching that I’d never even known I had.

  I’d finally served the last table for the evening and I spotted Dorothy behind the bar. She was still talking and laughing with a few customers. How was it that she still looked as fresh as when she’d started the evening? I made my way to the bar and collapsed onto one of the stools.

  “You look exhausted. Long night?” she asked with a wink.

  “You could say that,” I said around a sigh.

  “It was a long night, but the tips were good.” Dorothy shook her full jar of money.

  Maybe tips were good for her, but they had been lousy for me. “I can’t wait to get out of these clothes and get home,” I said.

  The young man and woman at the bar got up. “It was nice talking to you, Dorothy. We’ll see you soon.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for the cookie recipe.”

  I stared at her as they walked away. “Well, I’m glad to see you had such a wonderful evening.” I frowned.

  “Did you find out anything?” she asked as she wiped down the counter.

  “No, I was too busy serving lobster and shrimp. What about you?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, nothing.”

  “Let’s change and get out of here. I think my days of working undercover at a seafood joint are over.” I brushed the hair out of my eyes. I imagined I must look like hell.

  “Well, you didn’t give it much of a chance,” she said.

  “I gave it all I can,” I said.

  We gathered our clothing from the lockers in the back and stepped into the back room to change. I had my shirt over my head when the sound of footsteps made me pause. The person stopped just right outside the doorway.

  “Did you read about it in the papers?” the woman asked.

  “Yeah, it said they think she died from natural causes,” the man said.

  I pulled the shirt the rest of the way over my head and then looked at Dorothy. “Did you hear that?” I whispered.

  Dorothy nodded.

  “How much longer are you working here? I was told as soon as the deal goes through I’ll have my money. As soon as I do, I’m out of here,” the woman said.

  My eyes widened as I looked at Dorothy again. I eased closer to the entrance hoping that they wouldn’t notice me. Dorothy released a little cough and the couple stopped talking. I glared at Dorothy. She needed to eat one of her peppermints to stop that tickle in her throat before she got both of us in trouble.

  I eased away from the entrance. The sound of the footfalls paused by the door and I knew they were listening for another movement. Did they know we were in there and that we’d overheard their conversation? I held my breathing, waiting for the confrontation.

  Finally, the couple walked away without knowing that we’d been back there and overhead their conversation.

  “Couldn’t you hold in that cough?” I asked when they were gone.

  “No, I could not. I need a peppermint,” she said, digging around in her purse.

  “What do you think that was all about?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. We don’t even know who was talking.” Dorothy draped her purse over her arm.

  She was right of course. It was just one of the many strange things about this restaurant. The place just had an odd vibe about it. The feeling came mainly from the people who worked here. We still hadn’t met the co-owner of the Captain’s Quarters, Justin Mack. If he didn’t show up soon I’d have to start asking around about him.

  “Come on. Let’s see who is still here. Maybe I’ll recognize their voices,” I said as I motioned over my shoulder.

  Dorothy and I stepped back into the main area of the restaurant. There were a couple of servers sitting at a table in the corner of the room. The customers had all cleared out. The blonde woman who had been watching me earlier in the day walked up to the table to join the others. She had been working in the prep area and hadn’t noticed that we had stepped out from the back room. The manager and another man I’d never seen before were standing on the deck.

  “It looks like we’ll have to come back to work tomorrow if we want to figure out which one of them was back there.” I tossed my dirty uniform in my bag and marched toward the door.

  I didn’t look back to see if anyone watched us this time. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next day Dorothy and I decided to check out Kristin’s place. After all, I had a key, why not use it? I pulled up in front of Dorothy’s house. When she emerged from the front door she was wearing white capri pants and a bright red blouse. Red bangles were on her wrist and big silver earrings dangled from her ears. Her sandals were the same shade of red. I felt a little underdressed in my blue shorts and white tank. The only jewelry I’d worn today was a delicate gold chain with tiny heart pendant.

  Dorothy climbed in and plopped her giant white purse down on her lap. “Let’s roll.”

  “You look bright and cheerful today,” I said as I turned out onto the street.

  “Well, you never know who you might run in to,” Dorothy said with a smile.

  “Like Mr. Grant?” I glanced over to
get her reaction.

  She waved off my comment, but didn’t refute it.

  As I continued to navigate the streets toward Kristin’s home, Dorothy asked, “Have you told Jake that you’re investigating this woman’s death?”

  “Nope. Why should I?” I asked as I turned onto the street listed on my directions.

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he might be able to help,” Dorothy said.

  “He would just tell me to stay out of it,” I said.

  Dorothy shook her head disapprovingly.

  Kristin lived in a beautiful white stucco home with two giant palm trees in the front yard. Instead of pulling into the driveway, I parked the car on the curb in front. The surrounding homes were similar in style and the only noise was the faint chirping of birds.

  Dorothy and I hopped out of the car and made our way up the flower-lined sidewalk. I glanced around the neighborhood to make sure no one was watching us. Had the police already been by her house? They still hadn’t said if there was any foul play involved in her death, but I knew that was the case. It was just a matter of time until I found out the truth. I didn’t know if Kristin had been pushed off the boat and drowned, or if she’d been killed before and the man had thrown her off the boat, but the police couldn’t keep that a secret forever.

  I was glad that Kristin’s grandfather had given me a key. Now I could say that I hadn’t broken in if I was caught. But what was I looking for? I knew nothing about her, so I wouldn’t know if something was out of place. I guess I just wanted to know more about her life. That would be the only way I could piece anything together.

  Dorothy and I reached the door and I paused when I took the key out of my pocket.

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I said.

  “Well, of course it isn’t a good idea, but we have to do it anyway,” Dorothy said.

  After pausing for a couple more seconds, I turned the key and slowly opened the door.

  “Is anyone here?” I called out.