LOWCOUNTRY BOOMERANG

by Susan M. Boyer

  “We’ll handle Vivianne,” said Nate.

  “God bless you,” said Darius. “Where are the other two?”

  “Arianna is at Calista’s house—”

  “What? How? How in the hell did that happen?” He got loud again.

  “Long story,” said Nate. “I dropped her off.”

  “I thought you were on my side,” said Darius. “You better be on my side. I’m the one paying your bill. If you took her over there, you can go get her out of there.”

  “I think she’s leaving under her own steam,” I said. “I heard at The Cracked Pot this morning she’d rented a house. No idea whose.”

  “Rented a house? How long is she planning on staying?” asked Darius.

  “Indefinitely, is what she told me,” said Nate.

  “Why would she do that?” asked Darius.

  “Said she’s here to help you prove your innocence,” said Nate.

  Darius heaved a heavy sigh. “Well, I guess it’s more than I deserve that she cares whether they lock me up or not.”

  “Which brings us to Lily,” I said. “She’s been holding daily press conferences at the gazebo at the park.”

  “Oh lord, lord.” Darius shook his head.

  “She seems to think the two of you are on the verge of patching things up,” I said.

  “Unh-uh. No. No way,” said Darius. “I strongly suspect that sweet young thing married me for my money to begin with. And I’m already giving her plenty of it.”

  “And that reminds me,” I said. “What are your plans for Devlin’s Point?”

  He squinted, blinked at me. “I’m gonna live there. What do you mean? Are you asking me if I’m planning to throw big parties or something? ’Cause I’m not really a party kind a guy, in case you worried about that.”

  “I’m asking if you have plans to develop it—put up a hotel, a resort, anything of that nature,” I said.

  “Hell no. Why in this world would I do something like that? One reason I came home was to get away from crowds.”

  “Something Lily said.” I felt a bit of the tension in my shoulders ease.

  “That girl has always got big plans for something.” Darius shook his head. “I’ve got to get my house in order, I can see that. But none of those women have anything to do with Trina Lynn.”

  Nate followed Palm Boulevard as it turned left, then stayed straight onto Forty-first Street. We were nearly to the marina. “We’re going to have to wait for the 2:30 ferry. Darius, you hungry? Liz and I didn’t have a chance to have lunch.”

  “Yeah, I’m starving. I haven’t hardly eaten a damn thing since Tuesday morning,” said Darius.

  “I don’t see any signs of the media,” I said. “The reporters must’ve all stayed behind to compare notes on the creek spout. We’re clear for the moment.”

  Nate pulled down to the parking lot in front of Morgan Creek Grill and we got out and climbed the steps to the Upper Deck. It was still plenty hot, in the high eighties, but the breeze was nice, and there was a roof over the deck to keep the worst of the sun at bay. We didn’t need to be told Darius wanted to be outside.

  We grabbed a table by the rail. Our server put down menus and asked for our drink order. Nate and I ordered unsweetened tea.

  Darius glanced at the menu. “Bring me a Corona and one of every appetizer on this menu. And a Creek Burger, medium, add mayonnaise.” He looked at us. “I’m gonna need help eating them appetizers. What ch’all want?”

  Nate ordered a burger, and I went with the mahi mahi tacos. I knew we weren’t going to eat all that food, but went with the spirit of the occasion. When the food arrived, we had to slide another table over just to hold it all. Darius ordered another beer and told the waitress to bring the check. He paid the bill and we munched until we saw the ferry approaching. We all grabbed one more bite as we stood, then rushed down the steps and piled into the car.

  Nate pushed the button, and the car misfired again. He muttered a couple curses and tried again. It started on the third try.

  “How old’s this car?” asked Darius.

  “Less than a year,” said Nate.

  “They sure don’t make cars like they used to,” said Darius. “If I was you, I’d be having a serious conversation with a car dealer.”

  “It’s something simple. I’ll pop the hood and check things out myself as soon as we get home.” Nate drove around to the Stella Maris ferry dock and pulled the car onto the ferry.

  It wasn’t rare for mid-afternoon ferries to be mostly empty. We were relieved and grateful to be the only car that trip. We all got out and climbed to the upper deck to enjoy the fresh air. As the ferry glided across the water, we all turned to our own thoughts. I puzzled over everything we’d learned that day. There was no way around the fact that Trina Lynn’s killer was a woman. That made things easier in some respects. We could eliminate a few possibilities. But just because Brantley Miller was innocent in the matter of her death didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Then again, he could be exactly who Darius thought he was, a slightly nerdy college kid.

  When we were closing in on the ferry dock, but still a ways out in Pearson’s Inlet, we all went back downstairs and climbed into the car. Colleen reappeared in the backseat. “I’m still working on Vivianne. She’s stubborn. And apparently not given to fear of spirits and such. I went full on poltergeist on her. She’s fixin’ to do a sage cleanse on the whole house. But I’ll get her out of there.”

  I’ve met her. She’s a piece of work.

  Nate pushed the button, and the car misfired again.

  Before he could push it a second time, Colleen yelled, “Freeze.”

  Nate and I looked at her.

  “Out of the car, now.” She disappeared, then reappeared on the deck.

  We scrambled to follow her.

  “Out. Out. Out.” Nate yelled.

  We both flung open our doors and dove out of the car.

  Darius opened his and hopped out. “What’s the matter with y’all?”

  Colleen said, “Get off the ferry.”

  “You mean jump in the water?” Nate forgot and spoke out loud.

  “Now!” Colleen reared back and touched her temples. Jump in the water, now!

  She was broadcasting, throwing the thought to the crew.

  “Jump,” hollered Nate. “Everyone, into the water.”

  “You crazy,” said Darius. “I ain’t jumping in no damn water.”

  Nate and I grabbed his arms and ran towards the rail. We hopped over and pulled him with us.

  “Let go a me—” Darius yelled. “Ahhhh!”

  We hit the water and went under.

  I kicked towards the surface and breached it just in time to see Colleen blowing the ferry captain and his single crew member off the ferry with a gust of wind she conjured with a wave of her arm. She spun around. Everyone was in the water. She shot upwards in a golden column of light and disappeared.

  The Explorer exploded in a fiery ball. Seconds later, the ferry went with it.

  We all treaded water staring at the flames.

  “Sonavabitch.” My mind raced through everyone we’d interviewed that week. Who had done this?

  “Day-um,” said Darius. “That’s a recall gonna set Ford back. How did y’all know it was gonna explode like that? Has it been in the news? Exploding Explorers?”

  Nate and I exchanged a glance.

  “No,” I said. “We just have finely tuned instincts.”

  “I’ll never question that again,” said Darius.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  By the time we swam to shore, Blake, his number two Clay Cooper—Darius’s cousin—a fire truck with four Stella Maris volunteer firemen, and the EMTs were in the parking lot. A crowd of curious Stella Maris residents had begun to form. Blake had the area roped off with crime scene tape. Bec
ause they went off the other side, the ferry crew reached land before we did, and were being examined.

  I’d lost my sandals in the water—the second pair of Kate Spade shoes the inlet had claimed. The rocks along the waterfront near the dock dug into my bare feet. Nate had ahold of my arm, helping me navigate.

  Blake offered me a hand. I grabbed it, and Nate handed me over.

  “You all right?” The look in Blake’s eyes told me exactly how shook up he was.

  “I’m fine.” I stepped into the grass alongside the parking lot and stayed there. The asphalt was rough and no doubt scorching hot.

  “Nate?” Blake turned back towards him.

  “I’m good, thanks.” Nate cleared the rocks and came to stand beside me. “Darius, you got it?”

  Darius picked his way through the rocks, muttering curses. “Oh yeah. I’ma tell you what, though. This has been the most stressful week of my entire life. And I’ve been on TV for years. I don’t remember things being this exciting on this lil’ island. I came home for peace and quiet. Seems like you all outta that here.” He looked at Blake like maybe he was responsible.

  “And from where I sit, it looks like you brought all the crazy with you,” said Blake.

  Darius muttered something, continued picking his way slowly across the rocks.

  Blake turned to me and Nate. “What the hell happened?”

  Nate said, “The Explorer started giving me trouble this morning. Lurching, misfiring. I was gonna take a look at it as soon as we got home. Didn’t had a chance. We rode up top on the ferry. When we got back in the car, I went to start it to run the air conditioning as we approached the dock. It missed again. And then something didn’t smell right.” Nate ran a hand through his hair, looked around, shook his head. I knew he was struggling to explain why we all jumped in the water. We couldn’t say, because our guardian spirit told us to.

  Colleen appeared beside him. “I remembered reading this article where some guy’s car was acting just like that and someone had rigged it to explode. As soon as I recalled that, something just told me we should get out of the car and off the ferry. I just knew.”

  Nate repeated what she’d said verbatim.

  Blake blinked at him. “You think somebody bombed your car?”

  Nate hesitated.

  Colleen said, “It’s not a bomb. In the article I read, someone ran a wire from a spark plug to the gas tank. Just a piece of wire. And it caused the car to explode, after it misfired for a day or two.”

  Nate parroted Colleen.

  Darius’s face was contorted in disbelief. “Was somebody trying to kill you, or me?”

  “That’s a fair question,” said Nate. “I don’t know. Of course it will probably take weeks for forensics to analyze whatever they’re able to pull out of the water. I could be wrong. It’s just a guess.”

  “No,” said Colleen. “That’s exactly what happened.”

  Who did that? I threw the thought at her.

  “No idea,” she said. “That’s all I’ve been given.”

  One of the EMTs approached our group. “Everyone okay over here?”

  We all assured him we were fine. None of us wanted to be examined.

  Blake said, “Charleston Sheriff’s Office is sending an underwater recovery team. I’ve got an emergency call in to the mayor. We’ve got to replace the Amelia Ruth as quickly as possible. I’m hoping for a loaner from the North Carolina Ferry System. Otherwise, we could be down a while. Plenty of folks have private boats for pleasure, but most everyone on the island depends on the ferry.”

  “We’re going to need to charter something to get some of the visitors back to Isle of Palms, aren’t we?” I asked. “I mean, there are a lot of folks here with no place to sleep.”

  “I’m already on it,” said Blake. “Their cars will be stuck here temporarily. But I’ve rounded up volunteers who can take anyone back who needs to go. The Robinsons are going to coordinate it all through the marina.”

  “I’ve got a boat,” said Darius. “Chris Craft. It’s docked over at the marina.”

  “That’s excellent news,” I said. “We’re going to need to borrow it.”

  “Borrow it? I’ll take you wherever you need to go…” said Darius. “Aww, hell. I can’t leave the island anyway. I got this damn ankle monitor. And that’s a brand new boat. I ain’t even driven it but once myself.”

  Blake said, “Darius, I thought you might want to stay at the bed and breakfast. It’ll be quieter there, and that’s where Nell and Bill are. Coop too, when he’s off duty.”

  “Thank ya,” said Darius. “But I understand my lawyer wants me at home. But I could use your help getting my second ex-wife out my house.”

  Blake lifted his cap, dug his fingers through his hair, then resettled the cap. “I’ll send Clay with you. He can run her off and keep an eye on things. Hey, Coop.” He motioned for Clay to join us.

  “Drop Liz and Nate off, then take Darius home. Clear out any trespassers. I need you to stay there with him tonight instead of going back to the B&B. Maybe a few nights. You okay with that?”

  “Sure.” Clay grinned. “It’ll be just like old times.”

  Darius smiled. “Sounds good. Thank ya, cuz.”

  Clay said, “Blake, you ready for me to take them on now?”

  “Yeah,” said Blake. “I know where they are if I need them. Hey—nobody go running off on that boat tonight. Let’s let some of the dust settle. See if we can figure out what we’ve got here. For now, you’re all safer here.”

  I was thinking how we were all virtually trapped on the island with at least four potential murderers.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The first thing Nate did when we got out of Clay’s squad car at our house was check my car over with a fine-tooth comb.

  “No extra wires under the hood or around the gas tank.” He slammed the hood. “Until we know who did what to the Explorer, promise me you won’t start the engine without checking both places.”

  “I won’t,” I said. “So you think that was about us, not Darius?”

  “Has to be. No one except Fraser knew we were picking Darius up,” said Nate.

  “But if it was done the way Colleen said…doesn’t that sound improvised to you? And I keep going over it in my head. Whose chain have we yanked recently?”

  “Let’s go upstairs, sort through everything. You want dinner?” asked Nate.

  “No, please. We had lunch late, and I had way too much of it. I want a hot shower, a glass of wine, and possibly some popcorn later to munch on.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Forty-five minutes later, I had showered, washed my hair, applied a layer of orange body butter, and slipped into my pink plaid pajama shorts and tank. I pulled on a short robe and some fluffy socks and decided to let my hair dry naturally. Nate waited on the sofa in the office with two glasses and an open bottle of pinot noir.

  “Guys have it so easy,” I said.

  “How’s that?”

  “It only takes you ten minutes to shower and change.” I sat beside him.

  “But then we have a long list of guy stuff we have to do that you ladies don’t need to worry about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Now I can’t tell you that. That would be a violation of the guy code.” He poured me a glass of wine.

  “Thank you.” I took the glass and a long sip.

  Nate stood and walked to the case board. “I’ll man the marker this evening. Obviously, we’re looking for a woman.”

  “Possibly one with a connection to Olympia Price,” I said.

  “Possibly,” said Nate. “But that’s assuming Captain Price’s motive is to protect the real murderer. I’d sure hate to believe that was the case. It could also be she pressured Sonny and Jenkins to make an arrest purely because she believed in Darius’s gui
lt based on the murder weapon being found in the bag he discarded. Something this high profile, there’d be pressure to make a quick arrest.”

  “Or Captain Price has a connection to Trina Lynn, which clouds her judgement, or some reason to be predisposed to believe in Darius’s guilt. There’s a reason Sonny sent that message through Moon.”

  “Fair point,” said Nate. “Sonny is wary of the special interest she’s taken in the case, so we should be.”

  I took my wineglass and moved to my desk. “I’ll see what I can find out about her.”

  Nate picked up the eraser. “And since we’ve established, based on the timeline and the combined accounts of the twins and Vicki Turpitt, that our killer is a woman, I’ll get rid of some of the men on our case board.” He erased Kevin Looney’s name. “Poor Kevin didn’t kill Trina, and I think we can rule out someone jealous of his affection for her, which takes him off the board altogether.”

  “Agreed.” I opened a profile on Captain Olympia Price.

  “And it wasn’t our local anchorman, Grey Hamilton,” said Nate. “But it could have been a woman who wanted Trina Lynn out of the way.”

  “So we still need to talk to him, see if he knows of any candidates. He probably has a stalker or two himself.”

  “And an ex-girlfriend or two.” Nate studied the board.

  “We can rule out Walker Nance. And honestly, I don’t think it was Julia. Following up on her should be a low priority, I think.”

  “It’s not Brantley Miller,” said Nate. “A long-shot theory would be a twisted person who fancied themselves his avenger.”

  I looked up at him. “Depending on what his family situation was with the Millers, that could get pretty dark.”

  “Let’s not go down that particular rabbit hole just yet,” said Nate.

  “We can come back to farfetched notions if none of the more likely narratives prove out.”

  “I’m erasing male family members,” said Nate. “And August Lockwood, although I have to tell you, that doesn’t sit right with me. Something about him…But Vicki was convincing when she said it was a woman who ran out of that alley.”