Read Wedding Day Murder for Free Online Page B

bucks for prime docking space.”
    â€œBut where do they put them? There’s a waiting list for even a little slip.”
    â€œRight you are,” agreed Chuck. “But that doesn’t matter to the commission. When one of these pleasure palaces arrives, they just move somebody out into the harbor, or make us double up. Kinda like you do with your kids when you’ve got company.”
    â€œBut you’ve paid for your slip . . .”
    Chuck shook his head. “Not anymore. We pay for docking privileges— not a particular berth.”
    â€œBut how can you load stuff on and off the boat?”
    â€œYou use the dock, and then you move. It’s a pain in the chops because when you’re all done you’re not all done—you’ve got to move the boat.”
    â€œBut why don’t they keep those big boats out in the harbor?”
    Clarence rubbed his thumb against his fingers. “Big bucks. Those babies pay by the foot. Bigger boats get precedence. That’s the new policy.” He paused. “That one out there, it’s seventy feet if it’s a yard. Plus, they pay transient rates. The town’ll probably get as much from her in a week as they get from me in a season.”
    Lucy gazed at the sleek yacht, all sparkling white and clean as a new penny. “ SEA WITCH , FORT LAUDERDALE” was painted on its stern. It made quite a contrast to the rust-stained, tubby working boats with their cluttered decks full of nets and gear.
    â€œI see,” she said. “Well, I’m just a working girl. It’s back to the old grind for me.”
    â€œTell me about it,” said Chuck, taking hold of a wheelbarrow and pushing it down the dock to retrieve the rest of his catch.
    Walking back to the office, Lucy didn’t notice the fine weather. She marched along, wondering how it could be that some people had to work their fingers to the bone and risk their lives in order to make a living and others could just sail around in the lap of luxury. And if that wasn’t bad enough, here was the town displacing working people in favor of these idlers with well-padded wallets. As if they were some sort of superior beings just because they had lots of money. It just wasn’t fair, and she was going to look into it. It was about time the people of Tinker’s Cove learned how their prime natural resource, their harbor, was being sold to outsiders.
    Sold by the foot, she told herself. Now there was a headline.

Chapter Five
    B ack at the Pennysaver, Lucy yanked the door open and set the little bell jangling.
    Phyllis looked up and handed her a pink message slip. Lucy glanced at the notation to “Call Sue” and realized Phyllis hadn’t greeted her. Something was up. She cast a questioning glance at Phyllis, who tilted her head in Ted’s direction. Lucy got the idea.
    â€œI know I took a long time for lunch, but that’s because I was working on a story. Have you heard about this new harbor policy?”
    â€œWere you thinking at all when you wrote these obits?” asked Ted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Typos. Lots of typos. According to you, the late Fred Dunmeyer was a diary farmer! And then there’s Sylvia Appleton, I quote you, “a former school barbarian!”
    â€œOkay. Okay.” Lucy waved her hand impatiently. “No big deal. Minor details. I’ll fix them. Listen to me a minute. This is a major story.”
    Ted sighed and shook his head. “No, it isn’t. We ran it a few weeks ago, when the commission voted.”
    Lucy was dismayed. “The commissioners decided to displace the working fishermen in favor of rich millionaires with yachts and you don’t think it’s a big story?”
    Ted started to explain, but he was interrupted by Phyllis.
    â€œMillionaires? Where?” she asked.
    â€œAt the harbor. You should see the yacht that’s just pulled in. Very big. Very white. From Fort