Sailing In Style

Despite the reno, there were plenty of things that needed fixing at the Pelican, Cy reminded himself. A ton of ways he would keep his father busy, engaged and on track mentally. Maybe they’d start refinishing the floors in the attic room as soon as the boat project was finished. New tasks were what the doctors would order if they weren’t a bunch of gloom-and-doomers.

A misshapen black creature scooted out from under the sitting room settee, paws scrabbling on the pine flooring.

Cy scooped him up. “Baggy, I’ve missed you.”

The lumpy dog aimed his one steady eye at Cy and slurped a tongue across his face. It was dog language for, “My world is now complete because you have returned.” Baggy basked in the delight of having his ears rubbed as Cy carried him toward the smell of breakfast.

Aunt Bitsy was cooking. Manny sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee.

Cy planted a kiss on Bitsy’s cheek.

“Old bag of bones Baggy missed you,” Manny said to his son. “Wouldn’t eat and whined like a spoiled toddler.”

“He’s got attachment issues.” During a part-time moonlighting gig when he lived in Danville with Rosa, Cy had discovered the dog nearly starved, left in a paper bag on the shop’s back porch. “I’ll make him something special.”

“Don’t bother, sweetie.” Bitsy put a plate of scrambled eggs on the ground for Baggy. Baggy required soft foods since several of his teeth were missing.

She handed Cy two more plates of eggs, one without bacon to accommodate his vegetarianism and one with bacon for Manny, before she joined them.

Cy dug into his food. “You don’t have to come here and cook for me. You’re retired.”

“We had to return Baggy anyway, and it’s in the blood, I guess. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to walk away.” She tapped a finger on the side of her mug. “Once an innkeeper, always an innkeeper.”

He chugged some coffee. “So this paddle wheel riverboat has an amazing history. This thing has survived fires, two sinkings and conversion into a military barracks. I even read something about a starlet who disappeared from the River King. I mean, you couldn’t write stuff better than this.”

“Cy,” Bitsy interjected.

“And consider the fact that it was christened in 1927. Can you get over it?”

“That’s amazing, but, Cy...”

“The old boat is fixed up like a modern hotel. It’s a travesty. Ignoring all that incredible history.”

“Honey, can you focus for a minute? I need to tell you something.”

Cy shook away the pull of history. “Sorry. Rosa usually just gives me a smack on the back of the head. What’s up?”

There was a tap on the kitchen door. On the other side of the screen, a compact older man, neatly groomed, holding a birdcage, smiled at them from under the brim of his fedora. “Good morning.”

Baggy looked up from his eggs and swiped his tongue over his crooked mouth.

Cy smiled back. “Hey, there. Can we help you with something?”

“I was just letting you know I’m here.”

“Lovely,” Bitsy said. “Would you care for some breakfast?”

“No, thanks. My niece is here to help me unload.” He tipped his hat. To his knowledge, Cy had never seen a man actually tip his hat. Neither had he seen someone strolling the gardens with a parakeet. He hadn’t realized parakeets needed walking.

“Welcome to the Pelican,” Bitsy said. “Please let us know if there’s any way we can help you.”

The man tipped his hat once more and sidled away.

Cy shot a glance at Bitsy. “I am getting the sense that you’ve been trying to tell me something.”

Manny grinned. “Finally sank in, did it? Bitsy rented out the carriage house to Boris the birdcage man.”

Cy frowned. “I thought we were out of the innkeeping business.”

Bitsy waved a hand. “It’s just the carriage house, and he is welcome to cook for himself in the kitchen. That’s all. We’re not providing meals or linen service or anything.”

“But you and Pops aren’t here all the time, and I’m going to be busy with the River King. Who’s going to keep an eye on things?”

She waved a hand. “Boris doesn’t need keeping an eye on, and to be blunt, you all need the money.”

“We don’t...”

“Pike spent every penny on this inn, and his law practice is struggling. Dollars and Sense was just beginning to fledge when you, well...” She blushed.

He sighed. “Landed us in a mess with the flood damage I’ve caused.”

Bitsy patted his hand. “Eight hundred dollars a month will help until things straighten out, don’t you think?”

“Did you check out his credentials, at least?”

“He’s a shuttle driver. He gave us a ride home from the airport after our honeymoon last month, and I told him about the Pelican. He called me up yesterday and asked if we had a room to rent. How could I resist?”

Manny finished the last of his eggs. “Quit worrying, son. Guy isn’t an ax murderer or anything.”

Bitsy nodded. “Mr. Brindle is charming.”

Cy choked on a mouthful of coffee. “Brindle? That’s not Boris Brindle, is it?”

“Yes.” Bitsy frowned. “Do you know him?”

“Oh, I know of him. And you’re right, he’s not an ax murderer.” Cy pushed out his chair so violently that Baggy leapt for cover. “He’s a thief.”

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_7afbb8cd-47b3-5c96-a319-60888d16c3a2)

CY CHARGED OUT OF the kitchen, followed by an agitated Bitsy and Manny. Baggy managed to streak through before the door slammed shut.

Boris Brindle. The name rippled through Cy like an electric shock. What were the chances he’d run into Piper and her criminal uncle in the span of two days? He spied Boris as he stood surveying the lush garden and chicken coop, shaded by the twining clematis vines. Boris put the parakeet cage down on the carriage house porch step and breathed in a lungful of fresh air with the appearance of a completely satisfied man.

Cy was not swayed. He covered the distance in ten angry steps.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Brindle, but my aunt was mistaken. We don’t have a room for you here.”

Boris did not lose his smile. “Oh? Did I misunderstand?”