Free Rigged for Murder (Windjammer Mystery Series) by Jenifer LeClair Page B

murder victim in his cooler. She could picture him creeping in there late at night for a peek, to add a little excitement to what she suspected was an existence lacking in drama.
    They followed Fred through the back door into a storeroom that held a small walk-in cooler. Fred preceded them into the cooler and gestured to the right. “You can put him against the wall there,” he said. “I’ve moved all the food to the other side.”
    They maneuvered the body through the door. As they entered the cooler, Brie noted that the temperature on the large thermometer was just above freezing—perfectly suited to their needs. They placed Pete’s body along the right wall and quickly exited the makeshift morgue.
    John introduced his crew and then struck up a brief conversation with Fred. “I’m hoping the Coast Guard will be able to get to us by tomorrow or the day after,” he said. “We certainly appreciate your help, Fred.”
    “No problem. Glad to be of help. Storm’s pretty bad. May be a few days.” Fred spoke in a slow cadence, punctuating each statement with a series of either nods or shakes of his head—an eccentricity that amused Brie.
    “He’ll be safe in here,” Fred continued. “I always lock the cooler at night.”
    Brie suppressed a smile.
We wouldn’t want the body to make a break for it
, she thought to herself.
    “Well, thanks again, Fred, we’ll get out of your way now.”
    “Would you like some coffee? Just gonna make some.” Fred glanced across the storeroom to where he kept a coffee maker next to his old roll-top desk.
    “Thanks, but we have to stop up at the inn and then get back to the ship,” John shook Fred’s thin hand carefully. “I’ll take a rain check, though.”
    “Sure enough.” Fred got off two nods. “There’ll be plenty of rain for usin’ that check the next few days,” he said with enthusiasm, as if the prospect of more rain were cause for excessive glee.
    They left by the back door and headed around the side of the store to the gravel road that wound past the village and up toward Snug Harbor Bed and Breakfast. Mud sucked at their shoes as they slogged along. Brie was glad for the exercise. It kept the cold at bay and helped to relieve some of the stress that had been building inside her since Alyssa’s middle-of-the-night scream.
    She fell into step with John. “How old are Glenn and Betty?” she asked.
    “I think they’re around 65,” John said. “I know they’re close to Ben’s age, and he’s 68.”
    “We need to tell Glenn to have the Coast Guard contact the authorities where Pete lived, so his family will be notified.”
    “I brought along Pete’s application to give Glenn. It has his parents’ address and phone number on it. They live in Brunswick. I’m planning to visit them when we get back to the mainland.”
    A few more minutes’ climb brought them around the last curve in the road, and there stood the inn. Brie stopped to take in the setting. Even with rain falling, the place had such appeal. Stately cedar trees graced the sloping lawn, and wild rose bushes grew along the base of the porch. Comfortable wicker furniture and wooden rocking chairs invited guests to sit and take in the view of the cove below and the ocean beyond.
    They made their way across the wide lawn and climbed the porch steps. Brie turned and looked out to sea. “A place like this could make you look forward to retirement,” she said.
    John stepped onto the porch directly behind her. “That view sure is easy on the soul.” His presence behind her felt almost magnetic to Brie. She suddenly had a strong urge to rest her head back onto his shoulder. She resisted the thought and stepped away from him just as the door to the inn opened. A trim woman with shoulder-length gray hair stepped out.
    “John, is that you? We saw the
Maine Wind
in the cove.”
    John gave her a big hug. “Hello, Betty. It’s good to see you again.”
    “How are you, dear?” she said, with all the