Bernice might not be able to fix motors on boats, but she was skilled with customers. They liked her and she could easily upsell all kinds of items from their selection of paddle boats, rowboats, kayaks, canoes, fishing boats, and of course their cruising boats. They had it all to rent at the marina.
“Hey, Stella.” Bernice greeted her with her customary smile. She was in her late fifties and perpetually happy. She had very few lines on her face to show the passing years, and those she did have were mainly from being in the sun. She always wore a wide-brimmed hat and slathered on sunscreen. Her hats were darling, and no one wore them with more style than Bernice.
“Good morning, Bernice. Although I haven’t had my coffee, so technically, I can’t say if it’s a good morning or not,” Stella greeted her. “As always, you’re looking lovely.”
Bernice did look lovely. She wore soft yellow jeans rolled up to her calves and a boat-neck shirt with thin blue, white and yellow stripes. Her yellow boots matched her thick sweater, and somewhere she would have sunglasses that went with her outfit as well.
“Thank you, dear.” Bernice took the compliment as her due. “Roy has coffee at the bait shop, but you know it isn’t all that good.”
Stella was well aware Roy’s coffee lacked anything that remotely was good about coffee other than actual caffeine. “I wanted to apologize to you for the way I talked to you the other day. I was way out of line. You didn’t deserve me taking out my seriously bad day on you and that’s what I was doing. I hope you can forgive me, Bernice. You’re a good friend and I know I hurt you by snapping at you the way I did.”
Bernice’s eyes clouded over and she threw her arms around Stella. “Sweetheart, think nothing of it. I knew that day was terrible for you. Roy told me how some of the guests yelled at you. I hated that for you.”
Stella hugged her back. “That’s no reason to take it out on you, someone I care about. I’m truly sorry.”
Bernice patted her back, sniffed and then straightened and released her. “No worries. I appreciate your apology. It means something to me. Sam said you were camping with your girls for a few days. I think that’s good. You need some time off.”
“You saw him this morning? Where is he? He was supposed to take us to our tents last night.”
“Not this morning. When he brought all of you home last night, he told Roy he was going to spend the night where you would be camping to protect your things, said he was worried about all of you waking up with hangovers. Thought he could get a little fishing in. You know he rarely has the time. Denver might join him if he isn’t hungover. Apparently Denver drank more than he usually does, but was planning to meet Sam out there early this morning before sunrise.”
Bernice continued to talk, but Stella couldn’t hear a word she was saying. She felt the color drain from her face. Sam and Denver were fishing. She’d led two people who meant the world to her right to the spot where the murderer wanted his victim to be.
“I have to go, Bernice,” she whispered, and ran out of the little building and back down the marina to the main house and to the garage where Sam had parked her 4Runner. She knew she must look insane, but she didn’t care. She had to get to the men before something evil happened to them. “Bailey!” She yanked open the back of the rig.
Bailey came running and immediately leapt into his spot. She slammed the door closed and ran around to the driver’s side. Where was the fob to her rig? She’d given it to Sam the night before. Where would he put it? Probably on her nightstand. Swearing, she ran back into the house, into her bedroom, and sure enough, it was right there. Sam was predictable when it came to things like that. Water to hydrate. Aspirin for her headache. Her keys.
She drove like a maniac. She knew what her rig could do and just how far she could push it on the road around the lake. Thank heavens Bailey had woken her before the sun came up. It was rising into the sky now and she knew the two men would be fishing, or at least Sam would be if Denver wasn’t there yet. The tires slid just a little as she took a tight bend far too fast. It wouldn’t do to slide off the road.
She hit the steering wheel with the flat of her palm and sent up silent prayers to someone, she didn’t know who. The last time she had watched helplessly as people had died, she’d stopped believing in anyone outside of herself. Still, prayers might help. Who knew? She didn’t want to lose anyone else. Not Sam. Not Denver. No one.