Gwen Mayo - Murder at the Million Dollar Pier

MURDER

AT THE

MILLION DOLLAR PIER

A Three Snowbirds Mystery

GWEN MAYO

AND

SARAH E. GLENN

A Three Snowbirds Mystery

Copyright 2019

Gwen Mayo and Sarah E. Glenn

Edited by Sarah E. Glenn

Cover designed by Patty G. Henderson

at Boulevard Photografica

Published by

Mystery and Horror, LLC

Clearwater, FL

ISBN: 978-1-949281-06-4

Printed with the permission of the authors. All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for brief quotes used by reviewers.

This is a work of fiction. Historical persons and events depicted in this book are carefully researched. The authors have tried to remain true to the known facts, but our primary concern is in telling a compelling story. Any resemblance to any actual person living or dead, or to any known event or location is included only where it is relative to the setting and history.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to Christy Mayo McMillen. When I think of strong, courageous women doing whatever is necessary to take care of others, I think of you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The first person I need to thank for her support is Kathy Glenn. She is always the first to purchase copies, get our book into her local library, and generally acts as our number one cheerleader.

We need to thank the staff of the Vinoy for providing us with information about and access to the hotel. Thank you, St. Petersburg, for preserving the many unique features of the city that make it a wonderful setting for a book. During the writing of Murder at the Million Dollar Pier we have explored the parks and historic buildings, dug through library archives, and read copies of the 1926 St Petersburg Times and The Evening Independent newspapers.

As always, we want to thank our Sisters in Crime for their support, assistance, and wide range of knowledge. Whenever we needed an answer, one of you was there to help us find it. Over the years, Sarah and I have belonged to several chapters and found wonderful friends in each of them. A special thank you goes to Cheryl Hollon, author of the Webbs Glass Shop Mysteries, for taking time out of her busy schedule to read and review the book.

There are always people that I forget to mention in this section of the book. To all of you, I am sorry. I tend to remember who answered questions, provided help, or listened to me whine after the book goes to press. So, THANK YOU and please accept my humble apology for failing to include your name.

Chapter One

Teddy! Put that jar away before you get us arrested. Cornelia looked back to see if the sheriffs car they had just passed was turning around.

I have my prescription with me, Teddy cheerfully replied.

Thats for a bottle of medicinal alcohol, not Mr. Scroggins hooch. What happens when they find out you have a whole suitcase full of illegal booze?

Its not fullanymore.

If she had not been driving, Cornelia would have planted her face in her palms. Youre incorrigible.

The belly laughs from the rear of the Dodge Brothers Touring Sedan didnt help. Her uncle was laughing so hard that his face, above the snowy beard, was beet red and tears had formed in the corners of his eyes. Her traveling companions were impossible, both of them.

She sighed, shifted the gears of the car, and turned onto the paved road.

The road into the heart of Saint Petersburg was broad and lined with restaurants and stores. Civilization at last! Teddy sighed, silver curls glinting in the afternoon light. Weve left the jungle.

I must say, Cornelia replied, that even I am glad to be back on paved roads. Its easier on the tires.

And ones backside, Uncle Percival added from the back seat, jammed between suitcases. Makes it difficult to nap.

Cornelia shifted to a gear better suited to city traffic. No more need to nap or trade off driving, Uncle. Weve arrived.

The conversation died when Cornelia turned off Central Avenue onto the street that paralleled the waterfront. A wide ribbon of grass bordered a yacht basin filled with pleasure craft. Their tall masts reached for the heavens. Beyond, they could see an expanse of brilliant waters in shades of turquoise, green, and blue sparkling in the sunlight. Tampa Bay was even more beautiful than when she first saw it some thirty years before, en route to San Juan. The car ahead of them lingered for a better look at the toys of the wealthy, and Cornelia veered around it. The view of the bay opened before them, and the pale shades of shallow water gave way to dark blue under an azure sky dotted with cotton ball clouds. At least a dozen sailboats glided along the horizon. Cornelia couldnt help smiling as she breathed in the salty sea air.

Look at the palm trees lining the road, Teddy said. So stately.

I thought you were happy to be leaving the jungle, Cornelia teased. Weve seen plenty of palms for the past couple of weeks. They grow all along the highway.

But these are decorative palms. Theres a difference.

If you say so, dear.

Theres the Pier, Cornelias uncle announced, with excitement in his voice. I can hardly wait to walk it. Do you think we have time to speak to the workers?

The women in the front seat didnt reply. They were staring at the enormous hotel facing the water. Its brilliant pink wings opened from a rosy faade with columns and frescos.

Is that the Vinoy? Teddy asked, never caught without words for long. Its marvelous.

Uncle Percival shifted his view. It is an impressive structure, although I think the local builders are overly enamored with flamingo colors. Ive never seen so much pink.

I love it, Teddy asserted.

Of course you do, Cornelia said.

Their friend Mitch, a reporter with the Saint Petersburg Times, had told them that a meal at the Vinoy would cost him a weeks pay. Cornelia believed it; the scrollwork and carved details on the front entrance alone told her the hotel was not intended for ordinary travelers. In her experience, graceful lines and beautiful architecture amounted to a pretty penny on the final bill.

She pulled into the circular drive, and a uniformed valet rushed to the side of her car. His eyebrows rose when he saw a woman at the wheel. The surprised look vanished in an instant.

Cornelia was impressed with how fast his smile returned.

Welcome to the Vinoy, maam. How may I help you?

My uncleshe indicated the elderly man in the backhas booked rooms for a few days.

The valet eyed the embroidered curtains Teddy had added to the rear passenger windows. Hardly standard issue. Very good, maam. Well handle your vehicle and luggage while you register.

Cornelia climbed out of the Dodge and handed it over to the young man. Her first deed was straightening her suit jacketan ingrained habit after decades with the militaryfollowed by donning her broad-brimmed hat.

On the other side of the vehicle, a bellboy assisted Teddy and her uncle to the curb. He and the valet began emptying the back seat of its luggage. This was no easy task; between Teddys steamer trunk and her uncles camera equipment, it had been difficult for Cornelia to squeeze a single carpetbag in for herself. Her clothes were probably crushed again; she made a mental note to inquire about laundry service at the front desk.

The valet was standing at her side, looking expectant. She reached into her bag and gave him the tip he openly expected. He glanced at the change shed given him before thanking her.

He looks disappointed , she thought. Hes probably used to wads of bills from the swells and swank businessmen . Well, shed given him a fair price for what hed done. It was the bellboy who was going to deserve the bigger tip.