Janine Marie - Rigging a Murder 01 - The Single Shoe Mystery by Janine Marie Page B
Book: Janine Marie - Rigging a Murder 01 - The Single Shoe Mystery by Janine Marie
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Authors: Janine Marie
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throw pillows weren’t in the right positions. Why would someone move the pillow around unless they wanted to get into the storage hatches underneath the settee?
I turned to check the large hanging locker in the main salon, where we keep our wet weather gear, tables and chairs for the dock, and other miscellaneous things, and it had definitely been searched, though I couldn’t find anything missing. The TV, computers, and electronics were all still there. I checked, and none of the alcohol was missing.
Katie’s cabin was in its usual cluttered state, the bed full of stuffed animals, her shelf with books and board games, and her dresser top full of felts, pencil crayons, glitter glue, glitter tattoos, beads, string for friendship bracelets, sea shells, beach glass, craft paper, and scissors, all in various containers. The dresser has a lip around it, but it is still a complete mystery to me why everything doesn’t go flying around as the boat moves through waves or we heel from one side to the next. My only surmise is that the space is so full and crowded that there is no place for anything to move. In any case, it was imposable to tell whether Katie’s cabin had been searched. So I said good night to her and went to bed.
Chapter Thirteen
Geranium Island
A fter a quick breakfast of toast and coffee the next morning, we set sail. Our friends Greg and Steph and Kevin and his son, Sam, in their power boats were still sound asleep when we left because it takes us much longer to get anywhere. We sail at an average of 6 knots, less if there is light wind, whereas the power boats go 18 to 20 knots, so it takes us three times longer, and that’s only if the wind is blowing the right direction. If, like today, it’s not, well, at least it’s a beautiful sunny day and it is windy, so we will enjoy the sail and get to the island in time for cocktails.
Katie and I tried to read our books, but Thomas was determined to race various other sailboats who had no idea they were racing us, so every time we got comfortable he either tacked or wanted the sails adjusted. Katie and I finally gave up on reading when he announced that he wanted us to hoist the Gennaker, a sail like a spinnaker but easier to sail with only three people, one being Katie, who is a reluctant sailor at best. It requires constant adjustments but is really fun to fly. Arriving at last, we were pleased to see that Kevin had positioned his boat on the dock in a way to ensure that we had a spot with the group.
Nonboaters do the same thing with their cars, like when someone parks their car mostly in one spot but partly in the next spot as well, thus making it impossible for anyone to park that spot. Kevin, his son Sam, and Greg each grabbed a line and walked Kevin’s boat back 5 feet, tied it off, then caught our lines. We were to have a late lunch, as we had missed a dock lunch with the group earlier. I moved our deck chairs to the dock, opened a bottle of white wine, handed Thomas a beer and some turkey dogs to BBQ, brought out some cut veggies and hummus, and voila, lunch on the dock. After lunch Katie and Sam went up the dock to the field to play some Frisbee. I cleaned up the lunch dishes, then went to join Steph and Kevin on the dock. “Where is Thomas?” I asked, sitting down.
“Where do you think?” Steph said, waving at their boat, where the engine cover was raised.
“Oh” I said knowingly. “a project is afoot.” Turning to Kevin I asked, “How do you resist?”
“What? And ruin my clothes mucking around with an engine? No, I’m no fool; I’d much rather sit here visiting with you two lovely ladies,” he said with a smile, then gallantly filled our glasses with the crisp white Sauvignon Blanc.
“So tell us about your new date,… she didn’t come?” I inquired, and we proceeded to analyze Kevin’s latest relationships until Greg and Thomas reappeared, very pleased with themselves for having resolved the engine problem, something
I turned to check the large hanging locker in the main salon, where we keep our wet weather gear, tables and chairs for the dock, and other miscellaneous things, and it had definitely been searched, though I couldn’t find anything missing. The TV, computers, and electronics were all still there. I checked, and none of the alcohol was missing.
Katie’s cabin was in its usual cluttered state, the bed full of stuffed animals, her shelf with books and board games, and her dresser top full of felts, pencil crayons, glitter glue, glitter tattoos, beads, string for friendship bracelets, sea shells, beach glass, craft paper, and scissors, all in various containers. The dresser has a lip around it, but it is still a complete mystery to me why everything doesn’t go flying around as the boat moves through waves or we heel from one side to the next. My only surmise is that the space is so full and crowded that there is no place for anything to move. In any case, it was imposable to tell whether Katie’s cabin had been searched. So I said good night to her and went to bed.
Chapter Thirteen
Geranium Island
A fter a quick breakfast of toast and coffee the next morning, we set sail. Our friends Greg and Steph and Kevin and his son, Sam, in their power boats were still sound asleep when we left because it takes us much longer to get anywhere. We sail at an average of 6 knots, less if there is light wind, whereas the power boats go 18 to 20 knots, so it takes us three times longer, and that’s only if the wind is blowing the right direction. If, like today, it’s not, well, at least it’s a beautiful sunny day and it is windy, so we will enjoy the sail and get to the island in time for cocktails.
Katie and I tried to read our books, but Thomas was determined to race various other sailboats who had no idea they were racing us, so every time we got comfortable he either tacked or wanted the sails adjusted. Katie and I finally gave up on reading when he announced that he wanted us to hoist the Gennaker, a sail like a spinnaker but easier to sail with only three people, one being Katie, who is a reluctant sailor at best. It requires constant adjustments but is really fun to fly. Arriving at last, we were pleased to see that Kevin had positioned his boat on the dock in a way to ensure that we had a spot with the group.
Nonboaters do the same thing with their cars, like when someone parks their car mostly in one spot but partly in the next spot as well, thus making it impossible for anyone to park that spot. Kevin, his son Sam, and Greg each grabbed a line and walked Kevin’s boat back 5 feet, tied it off, then caught our lines. We were to have a late lunch, as we had missed a dock lunch with the group earlier. I moved our deck chairs to the dock, opened a bottle of white wine, handed Thomas a beer and some turkey dogs to BBQ, brought out some cut veggies and hummus, and voila, lunch on the dock. After lunch Katie and Sam went up the dock to the field to play some Frisbee. I cleaned up the lunch dishes, then went to join Steph and Kevin on the dock. “Where is Thomas?” I asked, sitting down.
“Where do you think?” Steph said, waving at their boat, where the engine cover was raised.
“Oh” I said knowingly. “a project is afoot.” Turning to Kevin I asked, “How do you resist?”
“What? And ruin my clothes mucking around with an engine? No, I’m no fool; I’d much rather sit here visiting with you two lovely ladies,” he said with a smile, then gallantly filled our glasses with the crisp white Sauvignon Blanc.
“So tell us about your new date,… she didn’t come?” I inquired, and we proceeded to analyze Kevin’s latest relationships until Greg and Thomas reappeared, very pleased with themselves for having resolved the engine problem, something
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