Retired With Prejudice

By Olivia Stowe

In the second book in the Charlotte Diamond mystery series, intrepid FBI senior investigator Charlotte has settled into retirement on Maryland’s eastern shore of the Chesapeake bay only to find high-level international intrigue has sought her out when the abandoned sailboat of spy master Win Engleton washes up against her dock.

When blood is found in the boat the question is - was it suicide or murder?

Charlotte struggles with having to choose between focusing on her new-found significant other, former movie star Brenda Boynton, or a complex espionage mystery of who did what to who and why that reopens ever deeper mysteries again and again like a Matryoshka Russian nesting doll.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cyberworld Publishing
• Release date: Jun 11, 2010
• ISBN: 9780980849035

Olivia Stowe

Olivia Stowe is a published author under different names and in other dimensions of fiction and nonfiction and lives quietly in a university town with an indulgent spouse.You can find Olivia at CyberworldPublishing.Our authors like to receive feedback and appreciate reviews being posted at distributor and book review sites.All Olivia’s books, except the “Bundles,” are available in paperback and e-book.Mystery RomanceRestoring the CastleFinal FlightThe Charlotte Diamond mystery seriesBy The Howling (Book 1)Retired with Prejudice (Book 2)Coast to Coast (Book 3)An Inconvenient Death (Book 4)What’s The Point? (Book 5)White Orchid Found (Book 6)Curtain Call (Book 7)Horrid Honeymoon (Book 8)Follow the Palm (Book 9)Fowler’s Folly (Book 10Jesus Speaks Galician (Seasonal Special)Making Room at Christmas (Seasonal Special)Cassandra’s last Spotlight (Seasonal Special)Blessedly Cursed Christmas (Seasonal Special)Charlotte Diamond Mysteries Bundle 1 (Books 1&2)Charlotte Diamond Mysteries Bundle 2 (Books 3&4)Charlotte Diamond Mysteries Bundle 3 (Books 5&6)The Savannah SeriesChatham SquareSavannah TimeOlivia’s Inspirational Christmas collectionsChristmas Seconds (2011)Spirit of Christmas (2010)

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This book is copyright © Olivia Stowe 2010

First published by Cyberworld Publishing, at Smashwords, in 2010.

Cover design by S Bush © 2010

Cover Photo - Boat at the Lake © Pr2is | Dreamstime.com

All rights reserved.

ISBN 978-0-9808011-9-4

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review or article, without written permission from the author or publisher.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

All characters in this book are the product of the author’s imagination and no resemblance to real people, or implication of events occurring in actual places, is intended.

Books By Olivia Stowe

By the Howling

Retired With Prejudice

Fiddler’s Rest

Retired With Prejudice

Olivia Stowe

Chapter One: Free Sailing

Have you felt like that about retirement?

Like what? Sorry, my mind was drifting there for a minute. Minds will do that at my age, my dear.

Charlotte Diamond had been watching a Sunfish, a small one-person sailing and racing boat with a rainbow-colored sail, floating out near the center of the Choptank River. She’d been half listening to her young neighbor, Sherry Landon, skipping from one topic to the next by word association as they sat in Adirondack chairs facing the river and set where the dock at her house met the river’s edge. Charlotte had opened a bottle of chardonnay and they were waiting for Brenda Boynton to arrive from farther up River Street with a platter of cheese and crackers. The Siberian husky, Sam, sat happily at Charlotte’s side, watching the movement of her hands with the patient hope that she would reach over and stroke him—which, from time to time Charlotte unconsciously did. Charlotte couldn’t call Sam her dog—she was minding him for her neighbors and Sherry’s landlords, who were off digging up Turkey—but increasingly Charlotte thought of Sam as hers, and there was every indication that Sam returned the sentiment.

As summer worked its way into early fall, this had become a ritual between Charlotte and Brenda—sitting on the banks of the Choptank River off Chesapeake Bay on Maryland’s Eastern shore, one night at Charlotte’s cottage and the next at Brenda’s more ornate brick manse, and doubling happy hour by watching the sun sink over the water. This evening Charlotte had noticed the new tenant next door looking over at Charlotte’s preparations for the ritual, and she had invited the young woman over. Sherry Landon had recently taken up an appointment as a fourth-grade teacher at the nearest Talbot County elementary school, and Charlotte, retired and somewhat footloose, had done what she could to show the young woman the basic ropes in the largely retired artists’ and professionals’ village of Hopewell on the Choptank.

I was talking about my father, Sherry said. You mentioned birthdays, and I remembered this is his—or would have been—next week. And you’d been talking about having retired and moved here last year. My father looked forward to retirement with all sorts of expectations, but he died right before he was planning to do so. And I remember him saying that he waited too long to retire—that he’d stayed on because they’d told him how valuable he was and then when he said he was planning to retire, they didn’t lessen his workload; they increased it—and at the same time they began to shut him out of discussions. I was wondering if you—

It was a little different with me, Charlotte answered as she stared out at Winston Engleton’s Sunfish drifting in the water. She didn’t realize she was staring at it—she was only vaguely aware now that it was the sailboat that Win Engleton, who owned the property named The Dacha, complete with heavy security fencing, down at the point at the very end of River Street, had been taking out on the river every day since he retired and moved to Hopewell permanently.

I couldn’t wait to retire, Charlotte continued. I had all sorts of plans on a productive and culturally enriched retirement, and then I found myself at loose ends for a good six months before I settled in to a new life—and then only when I had reconnected with my professional life for a bit of consulting—and when I established new friendships here in Hopewell. At this point, Charlotte was thinking of the former movie star, Brenda Brandon, who had retreated back to her home village of Hopewell on the Choptank. She had reverted to her birth name, Brenda Boynton, and come here the previous spring, shortly after Charlotte had come here—and had saved Charlotte from sliding into a lonely existence. Charlotte had only recently been divorced and, as that was shortly followed by her retirement and move to the river, she now knew that taking on too many changes in lifestyle at once is not a good idea.

I think your father might have discovered much the same thing, Sherry—that retirement is like that greener pasture saying—that it looks much better from over the fence than it does when you arrive there. Still, it’s too bad that he didn’t get the chance to experience whatever he would of that himself. I hope, though, that he found his job rewarding.

He was devoted to his job, Sherry said, and it killed him.

Charlotte looked over at her young neighbor sharply, as this had been said with a bitterness and hard edge that Charlotte had never heard from the normally perpetually sunny elementary school teacher before. It was almost as if she was speaking literally.

It’s strange to hear you talking of retirement, though, Charlotte said, suddenly wanting very much to change the topic of conversation. You’re much too young to be thinking of that. You have years and years ahead of you before—

Charlotte’s attempt to segue away from the topic was obviated, as a lilting voice known so well to the movie screen of decades past wafted across the grass from beside her cottage with a cheery, Hi, ho, Charlotte, and the breathtakingly beautiful star of stage and screen—even in her slivery gray period--was floating onto the set.

Oh, hello there, Sherry. I’ll glad you could join us, Brenda called out as she approached and saw Charlotte’s young neighbor. Sam sat up on his haunches and rewarded Brenda with a welcoming tail wag, as he watched the tray of crackers and cheese wobble in her hands with great—but unrequited—hope.

You’re late, Charlotte called out with an edge of laughter to her voice. I was about to start on your share of the wine. As it is, I’d best go into the house and find another bottle. I do hope I remembered to chill another one.

I stopped at that new Russian bakery in the village, Zenna’s, Brenda said. I thought I’d treat you with the divine cheese rolls I discovered there. I figured that would be enough of a peace offering for you to forgive my tardiness. If you do go back into the house for another bottle of wine, take a look across the street and confirm what I saw.

Who? What? Charlotte asked.

Well, I thought I saw Jane Cranford being pulled up River Street by Winston Engleton’s boxer, Rocket, but she didn’t acknowledge my wave. She seemed a bit distressed—although the dog is almost as big as she is, so maybe she was just concentrating on maintaining control. But I don’t know why she was walking Win’s dog.

Win’s still out on the river in his Sunfish, Charlotte said. Maybe he knew he’d be late and got Jane to agree to walk Rocket—although I had no idea they even knew each other. He’s so secretive and standoffish, I haven’t seen him at all in the village since he moved down here permanently from Washington.

Winston Engleton out on the river? Sherry interjected, as if this was all she’d heard of the exchange. And both Charlotte and Brenda looked around to her quickly, as that hard edge had come back into her voice.

Why yes. He’s another one of our retirees. He’s owned down here for many years, I understand. But he’s only recently moved down here permanently. Retired . . . and divorced, as well, I think.

Divorced? Brenda