Mac knew if they arrested Alexandra Cornell, they would never get a full confession of what she saw. One night in a cramped jail cell could put her over the edge and send her straight to a mental institution. No amount of encouragement budged her to say more.
After she left, Brenda spoke. “I think she needs a thorough psych evaluation. We all know that if she voluntarily tells us what she witnessed, that will be the first order of business for any lawyer in her defense.”
“That’s true, if she indeed knows anything,” Mac said. “Maybe she knows nothing about the crime at all. She’s just playing games. Maybe she didn’t see anything and just likes the attention.”
Officer Thompson agreed she wasn’t exactly a reliable witness at this point.
Phyllis looked up expectantly at Brenda when she came walking out into the waiting area, and Brenda shook her head to indicate they had nothing. When they got outside, they saw Alexandra a block ahead of them. Her head was downcast, her demeanor reverted to the shyness and skittish fear she came in with the day of her arrival.
Brenda explained what had happened. “I think she’ll have to be arrested to get the truth of what she may or may not know.” She told Phyllis their options and possible outcomes.
“How to find out if she knows anything or not will be a serious dilemma,” Phyllis agreed.
“The guys at the station think she may not know anything, but I have a strong feeling she does. She is so erratic, and that tells me she is trying to recover from what she saw.” Brenda told Phyllis about Alexandra’s comment about working out. “If she does go to the gym regularly, she doesn’t look like it.”
“Some people manage gym workouts and still keep slim and fragile-looking. It’s something to think about.” Phyllis paused. “She may not be as fragile as we think.”
The women returned to Sheffield Bed and Breakfast without talking more about it. When they went inside, Brenda asked Allie if Alexandra had come in.
Allie pointed in the direction of the oceanfront. “She headed down that way and I haven’t seen her come back.” They all looked out the front windows of the Queen Anne mansion, and across the wide, manicured lawns the blue of the ocean turned gray as scudding clouds began to cover over the sunny afternoon skies.
6
Main Suspect
Brenda made a split-second decision and headed out across the lawns. Phyllis followed Brenda to the seawall, too. Alexandra walked precariously across the narrow part of the stone barrier. Her arms swung wildly as her balance teetered for a moment, and she sang a strange foreign tune.
Brenda recognized the melody vaguely and searched her memory before remembering it as a Japanese song, Tanabata-sama, one she had learned as a child. Her parents had taken her to a children’s theatre in Michigan one year when a troupe visited from Japan and Brenda fell in love with that song. Her father later found the sheet music for it so her mother could teach her to play it on the piano.
“I know that song. It’s ‘Bamboo Leaves are Rustling.’ She’s singing in Japanese.” Phyllis stared at her in surprise but decided to wait and ask Brenda later how she knew that. “We can’t startle her. Let’s wait here for her to get off the wall. If we shock her and she falls, she’ll hurt herself on the slope. There’s nothing but sharp rocks on the other side.”
Alexandra tried to turn around and then tottered. Brenda and Phyllis held their breath until she hopped off toward the grassy side, onto Sheffield Bed and Breakfast’s lawn. Looking frail and confused, she sat in a tangle of limbs on the soft grass. They hurried to ask her if she was all right.
“I’m just a little dizzy…I don’t know what happened. I like to sit on the wall and watch the seagulls and boats. I must have tripped on something.”
Alexandra looked surprised to find herself on the ground, yet her eyes appeared clear and calm. Brenda decided now was the time to ask questions while the ocean had calmed her emotions. “Is this where you were when you saw it?” Brenda ventured in a soft voice.
Alexandra gazed at the water and said without turning to the women, “I did see Patrick die out there. He was…held under the water. It was no accidental drowning. But you should talk to the killer, not to me.”
Alexandra said no more and walked to her favorite, safer spot on the wall. She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. While her body appeared calm, her eyes appeared distant now and almost glassy, as if in shock at having revealed so much.
Brenda and Phyllis went back to the bed and breakfast. Brenda called Mac. He sent two female officers to talk with Alexandra. When they arrived, she clammed up. Finally, she insisted that Daniel should be questioned again and refused to say anything further. Brenda conferred with the officers and together they had no idea if Alexandra was making up the accusation or not. Mac decided it was worth calling Daniel back in.
“Let me know how it goes, Mac. I must get back to work. I haven’t checked on our guests all day.” Mac told her he would tell her everything as soon as he had information.
Alexandra breathed the salt air with deep sighs. If she could live near the water for the rest of her life, she felt she may finally find peace. For the first time, she could rest her eyes on the exact spot where Patrick Anderson took his last breath. She felt calm now that she had said a little to the police. Patrick almost won midway through the battle for his life but in the end, he lost. The big black box was waiting at the edge of the water, the flat dolly next to it. Alexandra was terrified to reveal, however, that she knew exactly who brought it down there and who readied it for Patrick’s body.
In the background of that horrible moment, watching the man’s death under the saltwater waves, strains of the ukulele played a celebratory song. The wedding celebrants laughed and enjoyed life while Patrick worked his entire body and spirit to escape his fate, all to no avail.
Alexandra didn’t feel remorse the man was dead. She understood why he was sought out and killed. It was the contrast between death on one side of the wall and life on the other that caught her attention. It was everything in the deep ocean that scared her.
She had every intention of keeping her knowledge a secret. That was her plan. It was the only thing that would unite her and Daniel, their shared knowledge. But then Daniel showed his true colors by rejecting her again. He was the one who had to pay now and at last she would get her revenge. Tears slipped down her face when she thought about Daniel locked up in a prison cell somewhere out of her reach. She vowed to make sure he spent enough time there to miss her and then she would tell the police she made it all up.
Daniel was playing pool in the guest recreation room on the lower level of the bed and breakfast. He and Shane Dickinson contested for top scores, and Daniel was ahead for the moment. Both men held their cue sticks frozen in their hands when two uniformed officers interrupted the game.
“Daniel Swift?” one of them said. Daniel identified himself, confused. “You are under arrest for the murder of Patrick Anderson.” He snapped handcuffs on the suspect and read him his rights.
Daniel’s face paled and switched to one of defeat. “I want a lawyer.”
“You can make the call when you arrive at the police station.”
Shane leaned forward and rested his hands on the cue stick, in shock at what he was witnessing. He hoped the police had the wrong person. He couldn’t imagine the amiable car dealership owner had any inclination to murder. He swiftly left the recreation room to find his wife.
“Brenda and Mac know what they’re doing, Shane. I’m glad they have a suspect finally. I was beginning to think anyone here could have killed Patrick.”
They discussed the subject for a few minutes and then decided to forget it all. Shane suggested they walk downtown and enjoy all that Sweetfern Harbor had to offer. By the time they reached Morning Sun Coffee, an hour had passed since Daniel’s arrest. That was all the time it took for rumors to swirl around. Molly recognized the couple and approached them. She took their orders and Sandra asked how rumors flew a
round so fast.
“I’ve never known that answer, but in this town, it never takes long. Someone probably saw him being taken from the bed and breakfast or maybe recognized him in the police car as it drove by and drew their own conclusions. I guess that confirms Patrick Anderson was murdered. I mean, I still thought it could have been an accidental drowning, but apparently not.” Molly took their orders and smiled at them ruefully. “Sorry you folks had to get a front row seat to all of this. Sweetfern Harbor really is a wonderful little town.”
Sandra looked onto the street. The town was picturesque and if one didn’t know about the crime, one would simply see it as a peaceful little village. Several more customers arrived. The Dickinsons talked about their afternoon plans. Shane suggested they have Jon take them out on a sailboat if he could fit them into his schedule.
Sweetfern Harbor residents had something new to talk about, but it didn’t mar the hospitality shown to all visitors. Sandra and Shane paid the tab and left for Jonathan Wright’s boat business, determined to make the best of the remainder of their visit.
Daniel Swift slumped in his chair facing Detective Rivers and Chief Ingram.
“If you won’t tell us how you killed him, at least tell us how you knew Patrick Anderson,” Mac said.
Daniel jerked his head up. He had called his lawyer, who advised him to say nothing until he arrived. Christopher O’Malley was an hour away, however, and the police had been relentless in their questioning. Daniel knew he should follow Christopher’s advice, but he wanted to prove his innocence and get the interrogation over with. He was convinced he could simply give them the facts and walk away free and innocent. When Mac asked the first question, he was thrown off-guard. Without thinking of the consequences, he decided to answer.
“All right, if you’ll stop harassing me, I’ll tell you how I knew him. We were in college together. And let me tell you, no disrespect to the dead, but Patrick Anderson was a horrible guy, and not just that – he was a thief. I don’t mean he stole little things. Patrick stole my identity. Twice. He stole everything that meant anything to me. He worked in the records office of the university. He found my file and used everything as his own – awards, academics, the works. He came from a wealthy family, his dad’s family were all doctors. He was no star student and wanted to get his parents off his back so he could go back to partying.”
Daniel’s scowl deepened with anger. “He took my good grades and honors and doctored them so his name was on top and inserted them into his file. His poor academics became mine, thanks to Patrick’s total lack of anything resembling ethics.” He shuffled his feet and tried to cross his ankle over one knee. The shackles on his ankles prevented him from doing that easily. He settled back in his chair again. “It took years for me to get my rightful reputation back.”
“How did you know he was going to be in Sweetfern Harbor this weekend, and specifically at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast?” Mac kept his eyes on the suspect.
“I didn’t know that at all. Believe me, it was an unpleasant surprise. Two unpleasant surprises, in fact. One was Patrick Anderson, the guy who tried to ruin my academic career, and the other was Alexandra Cornell, the woman who tried to ruin my life by stalking me for years. I almost left that night but then decided to…take care of matters once and for all.”
“And so you managed to drown a fitness buff like Patrick, all on your own?” Mac said.
“I didn’t – you know what? I don’t have anything else to say until my lawyer gets here.”
The detective signaled the officer to take Daniel back to his cell.
“There is no way he managed to kill Patrick by himself. From all accounts, Patrick was an expert in the water,” Mac said. “If Daniel went out there to kill him, wouldn’t Patrick have been good enough to swim farther out? Or head toward the shore?”
“Maybe he took him by surprise somehow,” Brenda offered, though she was not convinced either.
“There had to have been two perpetrators out there. I’m not even sure he was the one anyway. His words and body language rang totally false. Why does he care so much about having a lawyer?”
“I saw the body. Patrick looked strong enough to fight off one person for sure,” Chief Ingram said.
“I don’t expect to get much more from him once his attorney gets here. We’ll have to be strategic.” Mac updated Brenda and after discussion, they both felt Daniel was concealing something.
Carrie Porter chatted with Allie. “We love this little town so much,” she said. “Are there any out-of-the-way spots around here where we can take a picnic lunch? Rick is showing a rare romantic streak this weekend and I’m not going to let this opportunity pass us by.”
This was the time for Allie to shine. She loved to show off her local knowledge. “I’ll have the chef prepare box lunches for you. There is a perfect spot I can tell you about.” Allie started to give directions to a secluded beach area.
“That sounds perfect, but are there any other spots? He’ll probably want several suggestions, so we can choose.”
Allie jotted down a few possibilities situated near town but still secluded and passed the list to Carrie. “Did you take a look at the box lunch menu? Do you have any objections?”
“We looked at the menu. It’s fine. Can you throw in a bottle of red wine? No preference on which one, just something not too acidic.”
They completed the plans and Allie left to talk with Chef Pierre. When Allie found Carrie again, she told the guest the picnic lunch would be ready in fifteen minutes. The couple headed toward their car in the parking lot to pack a few things.
“Which spot have you chosen, Rick?” Carrie asked.
“None of them,” he said. She noted teasing in his eyes. “No one has to know where we’re really going. I have the perfect spot picked out already, and it’s not on that list.”
Carrie basked in his jovial mood. They rarely had this much time to enjoy one another away from their work at the hospital. She planned to take full advantage of the day alone with him. They drove a few miles and Carrie soaked up the beauty all around them.
“How far is it?” she asked.
“We’ll be there in about an hour. I’ll give you a hint. It’s a wildlife refuge.”
“I hope there aren’t wild animals out here. Am I going to have to ride a moose to the picnic areas?”
“There are woods, and water, but no moose, I’m afraid. One more hint…you’ve never been out in a canoe, so I thought this could be your first adventure in one. How about that?”
“I’m game for anything on water. I can’t wait to see where it is.” She smiled adoringly at him.
Rick began to relax the longer he drove. His idea had been perfectly thought out and planned. It was a good way to get Carrie away from other people and it gave him relief, too. He toyed with the idea of spending the entire day and that night in the area where they were headed, which offered cabins for rent. Neither had signed up for dinner at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, so no one would expect them to be there. He broached the idea to Carrie. She thought it was a great plan.
“Let’s see how much we like the area first. If the cabins are too rustic, I may want to head back to the bed and breakfast. You know how I like my comforts. I’m not a fan of any wild animals, for that matter.”
“I know, but this could be fun,” he pressed, taking a fast curve on the highway.
“We’ll see.”
Carrie was surprised and enthralled with the beauty of the refuge park when they arrived. No one was in sight except for the conservation ranger who greeted them.
“A few people are booked in some of the cabins. Most are here for privacy and the park is large and quite isolated, so you should enjoy a quiet time.” He smiled at them while he pointed out various things of interest in the sanctuary. They thanked him and drove forward.
“I feel like we are hundreds of miles from civilization,” Carrie said, gazing out at the towering trees with sunlight filtering down.
> “It does feel that way. No nosy proprietors bugging us about our plans for the day…no pagers buzzing us from the hospital...”
“Rick, I thought we agreed not to talk about work,” Carrie reproached him.
He apologized and instead watched the green woods around them give way to a lush marshland as they approached the picnic area. Rick parked the car near a pavilion where they sat and enjoyed the packed lunch. Carrie noted that Rick’s eyes never seemed to stop roaming the landscape. His leg jiggled under the table as he bounced his knee up and down.
“What’s the matter?”
“This wine’s no good. Too acidic for me,” Rick said, distracted. “How about we head for that little supply post by the rental cabins that the ranger told us about?” Carrie agreed when he pointed out that they would have to walk that direction to get to the rental canoes anyway, and their picnic lunch came to a swift end as they disposed of their trash and set off down the pathway.
Detective Rivers was informed when the lawyer Christopher O’Malley arrived and entered to confer with his client Daniel Swift. Mac hoped the attorney would encourage Daniel to tell what he knew. If he hadn’t been a part of the crime, he may have seen it happen or know who did commit the murder. Mac looked at the clock and sighed with frustration. He needed a break. When he called Brenda, she told him all the guests were taken care of. She was free to meet him and enjoy time away for a while. They decided to meet at Sweet Treats. It was mid-afternoon, and both had a sweet tooth. Mac arrived before she did.
“Hello, Mac, do you want your favorite?” Hope started to pull a tray from the glass cabinet.
“I’ll wait for Brenda. In the meantime, how about a cup of strong coffee?”
“It’s that kind of day, is it?” Hope Williams poured a mug of coffee and asked Mac how the investigation was going.
“As well as can be expected. Right now, we are getting close to someone, but he’s got his attorney down there so I’m not sure how fast we’ll be able to move on it.”
Is This Suitcase Taken? Page 7
