Killer Summer by Lynda Curnyn (e book reading free .txt) 📗

fifteen-year-old grandson, who thought his granny was lonely and decided to pick her up a cute little pet.

“You’re going to press charges, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, Zoe. I feel kind of sorry for the woman. Not only was she clearly lonely, but she has a thief for a grandson! I’m going to have one of my friends at the Police Benevolence Society give that young man a talking to. But I just had to tell you the good news. And thank you for helping me bring home my Fifi!”

When I hung up the phone a few minutes later, I wasn’t feeling any better, despite Adelaide’s happy reunion with Fifi. Though I did have the thought that maybe I should get a dog. I certainly didn’t have many friends left. I just wished I could talk to Sage. See how she was doing. But I had one recourse left: the beach. And though Kismet was the last place I wanted to be this fine Friday, I was going, if only to see Sage.

With that thought in mind, I looked up, saw that it was nearly four and began halfheartedly packing a bag. While I was hemming and hawing over whether to pack an extra pair of shorts to go with the six T-shirts and seven pairs of underwear I’d already stuffed into my knapsack, the phone rang.

I leaped for the receiver. “Hello?”

“Zoe, it’s Sage.”

“Sage, I’ve been trying to reach you all week.”

“I know you have. I didn’t want to talk to you.”

I heard a rushing sound in the background. “Where are you?”

“On the ferry. Listen, I have something to tell you about Maggie.”

My ears perked up. “What about Maggie?”

“Well, I was at work today, and I came across a folder that was crammed in the back of the drawer. Like it was hidden. In fact, I probably wouldn’t even have found it if I hadn’t decided to move my furniture around this afternoon.”

“What kind of folder?”

“A folder filled with all these invoices for some high-end jackets we had made for the fall collection.”

“Is that unusual? I mean, don’t you keep all that info at the N.Y. office?”

“Well, no, which was why I was curious, especially since the invoices seemed to be hidden. So I start looking through them, and I noticed that some of the numbers looked kind of high. I might not have noticed that, except that we just got an early shipment in for some styles we did in lamb and goat. I know because I get a copy of the shipping invoice sent to me as the orders come in to the warehouse, and I remembered we didn’t have as many pieces as the numbers on the payment order seemed to indicate. So I pulled out the shipping invoice and I realized I was right—the number on the payment order was higher than the number of actual goods received.”

“Speak English, Sage.”

“Meaning that payment was made for double the amount of skin needed for the number of jackets recorded as being received by the warehouse.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means that somebody was making off with all those extra jackets, and if my guess is correct, making a shitload of money with them on the black market.”

My scalp prickled. “Well, who do you think it was?”

“Who else? Donnie Havens, the fucking slimeball. His signature is all over the shipping invoice.”

I sucked in a breath. “So do you think Maggie found out and Donnie killed her?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

Something didn’t feel right. “Do you think they were lovers?”

“I wouldn’t put it past either one of them. Maybe she was in cahoots with him. Why else would she be hiding all these payment orders in her office? Maybe Donnie wanted to break it off and Maggie threatened to go to Tom.”

“But Donnie wasn’t on the beach that night. At least not according to the dock records.”

“Maybe Donnie paid off Chad to change the records. Then, when you started asking questions, Donnie got scared his little bribe wouldn’t keep Chad’s mouth shut.”

I suddenly felt ill. “Oh, God, Sage, then that means I was responsible for Chad’s death.”

“Zoe, look, you didn’t know what you were dealing with. You thought it was a simple little affair. This is the big time—grand larceny. We’re talking a lot of money here. I started looking through the rest of the payment invoices and realized some of the orders there looked a bit high, too. In some cases, as many as two hundred extra pieces, which could earn as much as sixty thousand dollars on the black market. And that’s not counting the shipments that haven’t come in yet. Who knows how long Donnie was planning on carrying on this scheme of his? I mean, he recently bought himself a new boat, and I know he and Amanda are up to their eyeballs in debt—they just bought a new house near the water in Bayshore.”

I swallowed hard, remembering the opulence of the Havens’ beach house. Tacky, yes, but opulent nonetheless.

“I’m getting on the next train out, Sage. I’ll meet you at the house.”

“No, you won’t.”

I sighed. “No, I mean it. I’m packing my bag right now.”

“No, I mean I won’t be at the house. Vince is cooking me dinner at his place.”

“Sage, don’t go over to Vince’s until I get there.”

“Excuse me, Zoe, but I think we just eliminated Vince as a suspect, did we not?”

I hesitated, then said, “Look, Sage, we can’t be sure how high up this thing goes. Vince could be in on it, too.”

“Need I remind you that Vince spent most of the past year in China? And then Italy. Why don’t you trust my instincts for a change?”

“Okay, okay,” I said, hearing the anger in her voice.“But promise me you won’t talk to him about it?”

“Zoe—”

“Just promise me,” I insisted. “At least until after we talk to Tom about what’s going on. And I think we should do that together, Sage.”

She sighed.“All right. I’ll wait for you. I have the invoices with