Island of Last Resorts

by Mary Ellis

  Kate pounded harder on the door. ‘No way. See that red Charger parked down the street? It belongs to Michael and Beth. And how many people own a dark green Maserati like Hunter Galen?’ She pointed at two very distinctive cars. ‘Let’s find a way into the backyard. Maybe everyone is outside around the pool.’

  After a minor amount of trespassing and wall-scaling, status quo for any PI, Kate and Eric found their way into the correct courtyard. Empty and dark, just like the rooms in the back of the house. A few empty beer bottles sat between lounge chairs while a forlorn volleyball floated on the pool’s surface.

  Irritation crawled up Kate’s spine like a spider. ‘So they went ahead and left without us. I was hoping they would wait. How are we supposed to get to Elysian Island if that boat doesn’t come back?’

  ‘Nate told us to call as soon as we arrived. But first, why not check your messages? Maybe your boss left more instructions.’

  Kate inhaled a deep breath and punched in voicemail. First she listened to Nate’s original message that told them to come as soon as possible and they would leave the lights on. ‘Oh, good, there are two new messages.’ She held up one finger and pressed the speaker button.

  ‘Kate and Eric, the owner of the island didn’t want us to wait. So we caught a ride to paradise on Saturday.’ The exuberance in Nate’s voice bubbled from the phone. After a short hesitation, he added, ‘Just call me when you can and we’ll make arrangements to get you to Elysian Island. The Price team sticks together.’

  She gazed up into Eric’s dark eyes.

  ‘See? No need to worry.’ Eric put both his hands on her shoulders. ‘Let’s listen to the second message.’

  Kate nodded, feeling a little foolish. When she pressed the play button, they heard Nate chuckle as the message began:

  ‘In the meantime, let yourself into my friend’s condo and get comfortable. My friend’s in Europe so you two will have the place to yourselves until you can join us on Elysian. Here’s the code for the front door.’

  After a series of numbers, Kate heard the inevitable click of Nate hanging up for a second time. ‘We’d better call him.’ She scanned through her contacts for the boss’s number.

  But Eric stopped her. ‘No, let’s backtrack to the front door before someone calls the cops on two suspicious peeping Toms.’

  ‘Only one of us looks suspicious and that’s you,’ she teased. ‘I’ll race you to the front.’ Kate boosted herself over the wall and ran as fast as she could through the neighbors’ yards.

  But with his long legs, Eric had no trouble catching up and passing her. When she reached the stoop, he was already punching in the security code from memory. Like magic, the door opened, and they entered a living room that reeked of perfume and garlicky tomato sauce.

  Eric sniffed the air like a bloodhound. ‘Smells like the old gang ordered pizza before they left for the new world.’

  ‘And I can tell Nicki Galen was here. She’s the only one who sprays on Dior like five-dollar body mist.’ Kate picked up an empty soda can from the coffee table. ‘Now can we call Nate?’

  ‘Nope, sit for a minute.’ Eric pointed at an expensive leather sofa. ‘I’ll see what your pals left us to drink.’

  Kate readily complied. It’d been a long day, between dinner with the Manfredis, the drive from Charleston to St Simons, and sprinting across several yards.

  A few minutes later, Eric returned with the remnants of a party tray, an opened bottle of champagne and two flutes. ‘First, we’ll toast to our good fortune – this champagne is Veuve Clicquot with only one glassful missing. We can’t let it go flat.’ He filled both flutes.

  ‘Let’s toast the Galens bringing the good stuff. And let’s drink to a successful retreat with our friends.’

  ‘And let’s toast to one night alone for our own retreat.’ Eric tapped the rim of his flute to hers. ‘After all, my niece, Danielle, gave us strict orders.’

  Kate sipped her champagne and punched in Nate’s number. Unfortunately, the call went straight to voicemail. ‘Uh-oh, his phone didn’t even ring. Where is this Elysian Island?’

  Eric tapped on his phone’s Google app. ‘Only twenty-two miles out in the Atlantic Ocean. St Simons is the nearest body of land. Let’s have a sandwich now and try the call later.’

  ‘How could you possibly be hungry?’ she muttered. Nevertheless, Kate rolled up a slice of ham and cheese and grabbed a handful of olives.

  Two hours later, with the tray picked over and the champagne gone, Kate tried Nate’s number again and received the same result. Although she had every intention of calling him later, fatigue finally caught up with them.

  They both fell asleep, fully dressed, on the couch.

  Elysian Island, Sunday p.m.

  After the unfriendly guards escorted members of team one back to their rooms, Nate wasn’t able to rest or enjoy the plate of cheese and crackers on the coffee table. Members of team two still hadn’t returned from their trek around the island in search of clues or one of the suspects. From his window, Nate watched the fog creep from the forest across the lawn like bony fingers. Pacing the room did him little good. Trying for a cell connection did even less. Not until he heard a key in the lock and saw Izzy walk into the suite did he relax.

  ‘What took your team so long?’ he barked. ‘How big is this island?’

  Izzy, cold, wet, and dirty, limped across the room into his arms. ‘Oh, Nate,’ she sobbed. ‘This is far worse than we could’ve imagined.’

  ‘What is … the island?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, plenty of thorny briars and lots of low marshy … spots.’ Tears streamed down her face as her words broke into a staccato. ‘That’s not the worst … of … it.’

  Nate helped her to the chair by the fireplace and draped an afghan around her shoulders. ‘Now tell me what happened. Are you hurt?’

  ‘No, but my feet hurt from wearing these new boots.’ She shivered uncontrollably.

  ‘Is that why you’re upset?’ He tightened the afghan around her.

  ‘No,’ she cried. ‘We found a dead body on the beach. It was that skinny guy who fought against his restraints during introductions.’ She drew in a breath. ‘We think it was Reuben Fallon.’

  ‘Are you sure he was dead?’

  Izzy’s head bobbed up and down. ‘No doubt in my mind. There was a big gash here and a lot of blood on his clothes and in the sand.’ She touched a spot where her forehead met her scalp. ‘Remember that we were supposed to find a clue and a suspect on Frazier’s wild-goose chase?’ She laced the question with plenty of scorn. ‘We found the wrench that was on the table. It was lying in the sand next to the body with blood all over the heavy end.’

  ‘I hope no one touched it,’ Nate murmured.

  ‘What difference does it make?’ she cried. ‘This whole thing has been staged for our benefit. Frazier killed someone as part of his stupid mystery game.’

  ‘Why would Frazier wait until now to kill Reuben Fallon, if that really was him? He could have had him whacked at any time during the last eight years.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Izzy dropped her face into her hands. ‘But as soon as we found the body on the beach, out pops that head of security, Jonah Creery, along with several guards. Creery even made a joke of Fallon’s death.’ She mimicked a singsong-y accent. ‘Look at you, ace detectives, you not only found a clue, but eliminated one of the suspects! Well done. Time to head back to the house and get ready for dinner.’

  Nate walked to the sideboard and considered pouring a drink. But having anything less than a clear head wouldn’t help him tonight. He drank cold coffee left over from breakfast instead. ‘Stretch out on the bed, Izzy, and get some rest. Let me think about how I want to handle this.’

  ‘What’s to handle?’ she moaned, shrugging off her outerwear. ‘We’re trapped on an island and at Frazier’s mercy.’

  Although Izzy had lain down on the king-size bed, Nate knew she wouldn’t sleep. Nate settled in an upholstered chair to th
ink, but he found neither rest nor much of a solution when it was time to get ready.

  Izzy swung her feet off the bed. ‘I’m just wearing what I have on. I refuse to get dressed up for a murderer’s standing rib roast dinner.’

  ‘Right now, we don’t know if Frazier’s the murderer or one of the other suspects he let roam free on the island.’ Nate pulled a clean shirt from his suitcase. ‘It’s in the team’s best interest not to overreact.’

  ‘How are we supposed to act when we find someone with their head bashed in?’ She rested one hand on her hip.

  ‘For now, we’ll assume that Frazier was just as shocked as you were and has already called the police or whoever has jurisdiction over this island. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and play our roles. Please change out of those dirty clothes.’

  ‘Fine,’ she said after a moment’s consideration. ‘I’ll put on a dress and heels, but this is the hairdo that crazy man is going to get.’ Izzy pointed at her tangled mess of curls.

  Nate knew better than to press his luck. Ten minutes later, an armed guard released them from their comfortable bedroom, which was feeling more and more like a prison cell.

  ‘Ready to go, Mr and Mrs Price?’ he asked. At least his rifle was on his shoulder instead of pointing at their chests.

  ‘We are.’ Nate took his wife’s arm and walked slowly to the grand foyer, trying to memorize every stairwell and hallway they passed. When the butler opened the dining-room door, they discovered Frazier at the sideboard with his head of security, Jonah Creery.

  Both men turned around with glasses of amber liquid in hand. ‘Nate, Isabelle,’ greeted Frazier. ‘I’m so glad you’re the first couple to dinner.’ He set down his glass and rushed to Izzy’s side. ‘I’m so sorry, Isabelle. What an awful shock that must have been for you.’

  ‘I suppose more so for me than for you, considering Fallon was the other assailant. Now that Reuben is dead, justice – or rather your retribution – has been served.’ She gently pulled her fingers from his grasp. ‘This ties up your mystery with a bow, no?’

  So much for not overreacting, Nate thought. ‘Come, Izzy. Let’s sit down.’

  Frazier’s head reared back as though she’d slapped him. ‘I didn’t kill Reuben Fallon! I brought him here to find out the truth. One of the brothers took money to kill my wife. And I want to know who paid them.’ He took his usual place at the head of the table, his hand shaking as he sipped his drink.

  ‘Are the police on their way to examine the crime scene and interview those who discovered the body?’ Nate asked.

  Suddenly, Compton ushered the Galens and Prestons into the dining room without the formal announcement of names.

  Hunter rushed toward the head of the table. ‘What kind of sick game are you playing?’ Hunter would have pulled Frazier from his chair if not intercepted by two heavily armed guards. One guard threw Hunter into a chair and the other pressed a gun to his neck, while Nicki screamed like a banshee.

  Beth probably would have joined Hunter’s assault if Michael hadn’t picked her up by her waist. ‘Put me down!’ Beth screeched.

  ‘Would everyone sit down,’ Creery demanded. ‘And quiet down so we can sort this out!’ he added when everyone continued to talk.

  Although it took several minutes, everyone finally took their seats, stopped talking and directed their attention to the head of the table. Compton began filling glasses with wine as though it would be dinner as usual.

  ‘Isabelle, Hunter, Beth, I know exactly how you felt when you found Mr Fallon this afternoon.’ Although he addressed all three, Frazier kept his focus on Izzy. ‘And I swear, I had nothing to do with his death.’

  When shouting erupted around the table again, Creery fired his handgun into the ceiling.

  That got the guests’ attention. ‘I hope there are no guests in that room,’ Nate said quietly.

  ‘That room belongs to the Galens, so no.’ Creery gestured toward Nicki and Hunter. ‘For now everyone is fine. Listen to Mr Frazier.’

  Their host took another swallow of bourbon. ‘When Jonah reported the gruesome discovery on the beach, I immediately tried calling the Glynn County Sheriff’s Office from the phone in my office. But the landline is dead. That service has never gone out since I’ve lived here.’

  ‘How convenient!’ Beth muttered.

  ‘There must be another way to reach St Simons or the mainland,’ said Nate.

  ‘Tomorrow I’m expecting Captain Burke to pick up Kate Weller and Eric Manfredi and bring them to the island. He sent them a text to be at the village fishing pier at noon. When the Slippery Eel arrives, we can use the boat’s radio to contact the coastguard. They can get ahold of the correct branch of law enforcement.’

  ‘You have no other boats on the island?’ Nate asked.

  ‘I do not, and I’m not expecting any deliveries until later in the week.’

  ‘A rich man like you with only one boat? I find that hard to believe,’ Beth snapped.

  ‘There are small skiffs and kayaks used for exploring, but they neither have radios, nor can they reach the mainland with the strong currents around the island. And I resent your snide tone, Mrs Preston. If you can’t be civil at my dinner table, then keep your mouth shut.’ Frazier’s face flushed to a shade of scarlet.

  Michael whispered something to Beth, before addressing Frazier. ‘Team one was in the library, studying the detective’s case file. Could you tell us everything you know about what happened on the beach?’

  Frazier nodded at Jonah Creery who took over the explanation. ‘The surviving Fallon brother, Reuben, was found with his head caved in, apparently with the same weapon that had been used to kill my wife.’

  ‘That weapon should still be locked up in police evidence,’ said Nicki.

  ‘Yes, Mrs Galen,’ said Frazier. ‘But since the police no longer had any use for evidence, I had it retrieved and brought to the island, along with the case file. The wrench and other clues were locked in my office. Someone broke into my office, disabled the phone and stole the weapon used to kill Reuben Fallon. I remained inside this house all day.’ Frazier’s voice lifted a decibel.

  ‘But you could have—’

  ‘Enough.’ Nate interrupted Michael. ‘We were brought here to solve Ariana’s murder, not throw around accusations. Members of team two, did you see anyone else today on the island? Izzy didn’t mention seeing anyone, how about you, Hunter?’ Nate thought it best to leave Beth out of the conversation for now.

  Hunter set down his glass. ‘We searched the stable behind the house and then found a path through the interior to the beach. We saw no signs of anyone until we found Reuben Fallon, except of course Mr Creery and four of the guards here in this room.’ Hunter stood and pointed out four of the seven armed men in the dining room.

  ‘If one of the hired security force wanted to kill Fallon, he would have used a bullet, not a wrench.’ Creery scoffed at the idea.

  ‘This morning,’ said Frazier, ‘I released all suspects to see what they would do. They were made aware of the rules of the game when they first arrived. They were told they couldn’t leave until you solved the mystery, but two found an old rowboat on the other side of the island and tried to get off the island. Since the boat had holes drilled in the bottom, the escapees had to swim back to shore and were soon apprehended. We found the other two suspects on the dock, trying to flag down passing fisherman. Local fishermen know better than to set their nets too close to Elysian. All five suspects were found, but any of them had time to kill Fallon before the guards recaptured them.’

  ‘I doubt they had enough time to break into your office?’ Nate said.

  Creery cleared this throat. ‘Actually, when I questioned the housekeeper, Mrs Norville admitted she might not have locked the door after cleaning the room. So, yes, one of the suspects might have sneaked in.’

  Frazier glared at his assistant. ‘All right, if team two has nothing else to add, then let’s hear what team one learned from
the detective’s report.’

  Nate glanced around the room, then pulled a folded sheet from his pocket. ‘As Mr Frazier described, the detective’s case file on the murder was woefully incomplete. In addition, one major inaccuracy stood out.’

  ‘Finally, we’re getting somewhere.’ Frazier banged his fist on the table. ‘Let me allow the staff to serve dinner, so they can be dismissed for the evening. If you don’t mind, we’re dining less formally tonight.’ He pressed the button on his chair.

  Nate was forced to wait until Compton sliced the roast and maids delivered side dishes to the center of the table. Once they left the room, he continued, ‘Detective Sanborn concluded the thieves entered the house through an unlocked garage door or back window, because there were no signs of forced entry. Nowhere in his report is Mr Frazier’s insistence that he locked up and armed the security system.’

  ‘With all due respect, sir,’ said Michael, ‘you said we could question the suspects. Wouldn’t now be a good time for Detective Sanborn to join us?’

  ‘A splendid idea. I’ll see what’s keeping him.’ Frazier refilled his glass from the decanter and passed the bottle to Nate. ‘Mr Creery, would you be kind enough to fetch the retired cop? More wine, Isabelle?’ he asked when his assistant left the room.

  ‘No, thank you. I’m not getting tipsy tonight.’ Izzy took a dinner roll and passed around the basket.

  In a few minutes, Creery prodded Sanborn into the room and pointed at the chair next to Michael. ‘Sit next to him.’

  Nate instantly recognized the suspect’s telltale signs of alcohol abuse. In fact, judging by his glassy eyes and unsteady gait, Sanborn appeared to be drunk right now. He practically fell into his chair.

  ‘Have you been drinking, Detective? Because we have a few questions to ask you.’

  Sanborn shook an accusing finger at their host. ‘I told that crazy rich guy I was on the wagon when he offered me a million bucks to come here. Frazier said “no problem” but he made sure I got plenty to drink on the boat ride here and then left full bottles of Scotch in my room. He knew I’d be tempted.’