Janine Marie - Rigging a Murder 01 - The Single Shoe Mystery Read Online Free PDF
Author: Janine Marie
answer, so I tried an open-ended question:
“Why did you bring it back here?”
“Don’t know, just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Why were you out in the rain this morning?”
“I went out with Dad, but came back when he went over to Greg and Stephanie’s boat.”
“More coffee, please,” I said, holding out my cup to a snickering Thomas, who kindly filled it up for me.
“You are not a morning person!”
“Thanks, Einstein. You would think you would know that by now!”
“What’s for breakfast?” asked Thomas sweetly.
Grumbling, I went to the galley and started to prepare some bacon, eggs, and toast.
“Can we move the shoe?” I asked sarcastically as I set the table for breakfast.
Katie picked the shoe up and put it under the bottom stair of the companionway with the rest of our shoe collection.
After the breakfast dishes were done, Thomas and I went over to Greg and Stephanie’s boat while Katie settled down to watch Gilmore Girls, Season 2. Katie and I love Gilmore Girls and have all the seasons on DVD. I think Katie relates to the daughter character, “Rory,” who is shy and academic just like Katie is. I would love to be able to say I was like “Lorelai,” the mom on the show, who is young and hip and always has something clever and witty to say. Hmmm, maybe if I had Amy Sherman-Palladino writing for me, too, I just might. With the theme song from Gilmore Girls playing in the background, I headed over to the Writemans’ boat.
Our boat being a sailboat, the living space down below is especially dark in the rain and gloom, whereas Greg and Steph’s boat a Carver Voyager, has the galley and living space up with lots of large windows, is as close to bright and cheerful as you can get in the pouring rain. Less private, true, but in this weather, when you couldn’t be outdoors, it was nice to be able to see what was happening on the docks, and watch the rain or look for any breaks in clouds. Unfortunately, today there was very little chance of the latter.
“Should we leave?” I asked the group at large.
“Probably. With those high cliffs, the clouds get trapped here. It might not be as bad outside this basin,” Thomas replied.
“When is slack tide?”
Greg rummaged around and pulled out the tide table, running his finger down the page “9:54 am.” Checking his watch he added, “That’s in 35 minutes.”
“That would explain all the boats pulling off the dock…look, there goes Trent’s boat,” mused Thomas as he looked out the window. “Yes, let’s leave; I have no wish to sit in the rain any longer,” he continued.
I got up, having been married long enough to know that when Thomas says “Let’s leave” he means right now! And even though there was no wind at the moment, I’ve also sailed long enough to know that at the slightest sign of wind Thomas will have the sails up and we will heel over, so anything not properly stowed will go flying from one side of the boat to the other… that is, until we tack, when it will unceremoniously return to its original side of the boat, though probably no longer in its original unbroken condition.
I had just opened the sliding glass door that leads from the spacious airy salon of Greg and Steph’s boat onto their back deck when,
‘Help! Help!” came a women’s cry from the dock
Looking out, I saw Nancy, the cook from Lorenzo’s big Hatteras, the Atlantis, who had prepared the delicious dinner for us all the previous night, running frantically up and down the dock screaming.
“What’s wrong?” I yelled to her back.
She turned so quickly that she almost slipped on the wet dock. Catching her balance through sobs, she cried, “It’s Mr. Moretti, Lorenzo Moretti. Something’s wrong! Please come! I need help!” She looked up at us, as we were all now on the back deck looking, continuing to sob, shaking, and clearly very distressed. Greg, who had spent time as an ER doc before retiring, was the first to
“Why did you bring it back here?”
“Don’t know, just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Why were you out in the rain this morning?”
“I went out with Dad, but came back when he went over to Greg and Stephanie’s boat.”
“More coffee, please,” I said, holding out my cup to a snickering Thomas, who kindly filled it up for me.
“You are not a morning person!”
“Thanks, Einstein. You would think you would know that by now!”
“What’s for breakfast?” asked Thomas sweetly.
Grumbling, I went to the galley and started to prepare some bacon, eggs, and toast.
“Can we move the shoe?” I asked sarcastically as I set the table for breakfast.
Katie picked the shoe up and put it under the bottom stair of the companionway with the rest of our shoe collection.
After the breakfast dishes were done, Thomas and I went over to Greg and Stephanie’s boat while Katie settled down to watch Gilmore Girls, Season 2. Katie and I love Gilmore Girls and have all the seasons on DVD. I think Katie relates to the daughter character, “Rory,” who is shy and academic just like Katie is. I would love to be able to say I was like “Lorelai,” the mom on the show, who is young and hip and always has something clever and witty to say. Hmmm, maybe if I had Amy Sherman-Palladino writing for me, too, I just might. With the theme song from Gilmore Girls playing in the background, I headed over to the Writemans’ boat.
Our boat being a sailboat, the living space down below is especially dark in the rain and gloom, whereas Greg and Steph’s boat a Carver Voyager, has the galley and living space up with lots of large windows, is as close to bright and cheerful as you can get in the pouring rain. Less private, true, but in this weather, when you couldn’t be outdoors, it was nice to be able to see what was happening on the docks, and watch the rain or look for any breaks in clouds. Unfortunately, today there was very little chance of the latter.
“Should we leave?” I asked the group at large.
“Probably. With those high cliffs, the clouds get trapped here. It might not be as bad outside this basin,” Thomas replied.
“When is slack tide?”
Greg rummaged around and pulled out the tide table, running his finger down the page “9:54 am.” Checking his watch he added, “That’s in 35 minutes.”
“That would explain all the boats pulling off the dock…look, there goes Trent’s boat,” mused Thomas as he looked out the window. “Yes, let’s leave; I have no wish to sit in the rain any longer,” he continued.
I got up, having been married long enough to know that when Thomas says “Let’s leave” he means right now! And even though there was no wind at the moment, I’ve also sailed long enough to know that at the slightest sign of wind Thomas will have the sails up and we will heel over, so anything not properly stowed will go flying from one side of the boat to the other… that is, until we tack, when it will unceremoniously return to its original side of the boat, though probably no longer in its original unbroken condition.
I had just opened the sliding glass door that leads from the spacious airy salon of Greg and Steph’s boat onto their back deck when,
‘Help! Help!” came a women’s cry from the dock
Looking out, I saw Nancy, the cook from Lorenzo’s big Hatteras, the Atlantis, who had prepared the delicious dinner for us all the previous night, running frantically up and down the dock screaming.
“What’s wrong?” I yelled to her back.
She turned so quickly that she almost slipped on the wet dock. Catching her balance through sobs, she cried, “It’s Mr. Moretti, Lorenzo Moretti. Something’s wrong! Please come! I need help!” She looked up at us, as we were all now on the back deck looking, continuing to sob, shaking, and clearly very distressed. Greg, who had spent time as an ER doc before retiring, was the first to
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