Crossin The LIne Of Flight

CHAPTER 1

            Nina tucked a number 2 pencil through the the holes in her her hairnet and grabbed the regular coffee carafe.

                        "Nina, what are you mumbling about?"

"I'll tell you, Shirley, there are few things in this world I really hate, but near the top of the list would have to be that over there."

            The eyes of Nina's fellow waitress followed the direction of the older lady's stare. "What over there, Nina?"

            "That rat pack of over-the-hill golfers talking to the charter boat captains, that's what. They are damn near whispering, and I can't make out a word they are saying."

            "Let me try; give me that coffeepot," said Shirley, reaching out with a nicotine-stained hand.

            After two hours of sopping up free refills, every member of the gathering covered his cup with a palm on seeing Shirley approaching the two tables they had pushed together. Her mission a failure, Shirley returned to her station behind the diner’s turquoise counter.

            Nina glared across the room at what she felt was a clandestine gathering. "Well done, sweetie; now the two of us have no idea what those louts are mumbling about."

            Nina was about to propose an alternate eavesdropping plan when she was distracted by an ambulance and two sheriff's squad cars, sirens wailing, entering the marina parking lot next door.

            "Mind the store, Shirley; this has got to be interesting." Looking back at her assistant, she applied all 105 pounds of her bulk to open the plate glass door of the diner, collecting Carl Fletcher and her boss Sharon Waters in the process.

            They brushed past her before she could ask if they knew what was going on. She wasn't certain, but it appeared that Sharon's makeup was streaking down her cheeks.

            Nina had reached the curb separating the marina and diner parking lots when the medical examiner's black van pulled into the marina’s lot and parked at the end of Pier 31. People—some, but not all, in uniforms—swarmed over the lot like it was an anthill. Several were stringing crime scene tape in an effort to keep out the curious.

            Sheriff's detective Michael McCaffery had his hand atop Maggie Fletcher's head as he guided her into the backseat of one of the squad cars. Teddy Berger, Carl's deckhand, appeared to be waiting to be loaded into the same car.

            Nina wondered if Carl knew they were hauling his mother off in a cop car. She caught a glimpse of Moss and Gibby taking in the action as they peeked around the corner of the boat repair shop.

            So engrossed were they that Nina's touch on Moss's arm sent him airborne. He landed on Gibby, his diminutive partner. Both ending in a heap at Nina's feet.

            "Get up, you two Looney Tunes, and tell me what is going on over there!"

            Gibby took in his usual gasp of air before attempting to make a statement of importance, but no sound escaped his trembling lips.

            Moss straightened his ever-present porkpie hat and intervened, "The way it looks, Carl's mom and that Teddy kid killed a bunch of people, including that Anderson couple that lived on the big sailboat."

            Gibby joined in. "They shot the mean guy, who we was paid to watch, with a bow and arrow, and then whoever else was on the boat with a gun, I think."

            "Maggie shot someone, are you sure? I don't think that's possible. Slap them around a little maybe but… Wait a minute, did you say, ‘bow and arrow?'"

            Moss gathered a little indignation, "I know an arrow when I see one. I did just what they say you should. I tripped Tad Anderson with Gibby's broom so he would stop and drop, you know. I would have gotten him to roll if it wasn't for that arrow sticking out of his back."

            A twitch started in the corner of Nina's right eye. She was doing a running inventory of where the diner's regulars would be at this time of day. Sharon and Carl were at the diner. Maggie and Teddy appeared to be headed to the sheriff's department under the direction of Michael. That would leave Meyer and his crew from the boat shop.

            "Is Tad Anderson dead, Moss?" The question went unanswered. Gibby and Moss had made a quiet retreat in an effort to avoid any more questions. Nina's eyes saw them slipping behind the boat shop, but her mind held an entirely different vision: Sharon's makeup. The wiry little lady turned on the heels of her sensible white shoes and broke out in a dead run for the diner.