Stalked in Paradise

by Charley Marsh

  The resort’s much smaller marina didn’t have Portland’s fishing boats or container ships but it still fascinated Harriet.

  The docks Albie led her to were much longer and twice as wide as the kayak and ski-jet docks she’d first seen, but they had the same finger docks jutting off each one. Power and sail boats in a variety of sizes and styles filled each berth.

  The sailboats, ranging in size from small sailing dinghies for one or two persons to large overnight cruisers, occupied one entire dock. They rocked gently in the waves, their metal rigging clanging softly.

  A seagull called overhead. For a brief moment the gull’s cry combined with the softly clanging rigging and the smell of the sea and brought back Portland’s waterfront so vividly that a wave of homesickness washed over her.

  “Harry? Are you all right?”

  Harriet gave herself a mental shake. She knew that the homesickness had nothing to do with wanting to return to Portland. Her life in Portland had left her with mostly bad memories. She’d been fortunate to escape.

  She smiled at Albie. “I’m fine. Show me more.”

  Albie led Harriet down the powerboat dock, stopping to explain the functions of each one as they came to them. Harriet was amazed at the depth of his knowledge.

  There were boats for sightseeing, boats for fishing and waterskiing or parasailing, even a few large pontoon boats for partying. Several boats had clear bottoms for the guests to explore the wonders of the coral reefs that surrounded the island without getting wet.

  He explained that all of the resort’s vehicles ran on small hydrogen reactors so the roar of the outdated fossil fuel engine didn’t intrude upon the island’s peace and to meet the stringent international pollution laws.

  Harriet thought of the one engine she’d heard roaring around the island and felt her heart give a little flutter.

  “Alex’s motorcycle is pretty loud,” she pointed out.

  Albie grinned at her. “Alex refused to take the job unless he could bring his antique motorbike. Mr. Wade must have felt he was worth making an exception for. The rest of the resort’s boats, scooters, carts, and all-terrains all run silent and emission-free.”

  Harriet turned to look at the boats, thinking. Small waves slapped at their hulls and against the dock boards under her feet. She smelled briny air and seaweed, saw the green fronds swaying in the water around the dock. Huge starfish and blue mussels clung to the dock’s pilings.

  Sunlight glinted off the sea beyond the marina. In the distance a thin, pale gray bank of clouds hung low on the horizon. She pointed at the clouds.

  “Is that the mainland? Where those clouds are hanging? I read once that sailors of old used to find land by looking for clouds hanging on the horizon.”

  Albie shielded his eyes and looked where Harriet was pointing. “No. That’s a small island. Not much more than a big rock jutting out of the sea with some shrubs and a few coconut palms. There’s another smaller rock island between here and there that can only be seen when the tide is low. You’d need binocs to see it from here. The mainland is nearly four thousand kilometers to the northwest.”

  “Four thousand . . .” Harriet suddenly realized how isolated the resort was from civilization. She had not considered–not realized–what that isolation meant. “We’re really on our own, aren’t we?” she muttered.

  Albie smiled. “For the most part. But Alex is in touch with the mainland at all times and Lana orders food from the mainland and everyone else gets their supplies from the mainland, so actually we aren’t that isolated. Someone from the island picks up supplies a couple times a week by boat and the air shuttles run four times a day during daylight hours. Plus we have the helicopter for emergencies.”

  Harriet pursed her lips. “So. . . that means that the killer could have stowed away on one of the supply boats.”

  “It’s possible.”

  Harriet turned around and headed back up the dock. “I want to talk to Big Ed again.”

  Albie hurried along behind her but wisely kept his mouth shut. He was learning that when Harriet set her mind to something it was best not to get in her way.

  Harriet knocked once on the office door and entered. The office was surprisingly light and airy, with windows on two sides and the walls painted bright white with resort blue trim. A waist high counter jutted halfway into the room from the wall to her right. Shelves filled with items as diverse as fishing tackle, straw hats, sunshades, and umbrellas lined the back wall.

  Big Ed sat at one of two blue metal desks set in the rear of the room. He rose and came to stand behind the counter. “Help you?” he asked when Harriet stopped in front of him.

  “Yes.” She flashed a smile, but Ed’s expression didn’t change. Definitely an unhappy man, Harriet decided, and felt a pang of sympathy. It couldn’t be easy for him, living on the island with his ex, especially if he hadn’t wanted a divorce.

  “Could you tell me if you were working the day Bradley Higgins arrived on the island?”

  “I already told Alex all I know.”

  “I’m sure you did, but I just thought of something, so, I wonder if you were here the day he arrived?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Great! That’s great. Was there also a supply boat here from the mainland when Bradley arrived?”

  “No.”

  Harriet’s excitement deflated. “Are you sure? A supply boat didn’t show after Bradley arrived? Maybe later that day?”

  “No. No boats. If that’s all you wanted, I need to get back to work.”

  “Sure. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

  Harriet turned away, then turned back. “Wait. Were any of the marina’s boats missing?”

  “No.”

  Harriet left the marina office disappointed. “I was so sure I was on to something,” she told Albie as they climbed back into the all-terrain.

  “It was a good thought. A supply boat would have made a handy getaway for your friend’s killer. Less noticeable than stealing one of the marina’s boats.”

  “Yeah, it would. How far is the air shuttle pad from here?”

  “Not far. Mr. Wade had it built just north of the marina so the main resort wouldn’t have air traffic flying overhead and disturbing the guests, reminding them of the outside world.”

  “Can you take me there?”

  “Sure.”

  It wasn’t far at all, Harriet saw, when they pulled onto the edge of the shuttle pad. She could see the marina through the trees.

  Three blue and white air shuttles with Island Resort on their sides sat gleaming on the blue-gray crushed shell pad. Mussel shells for the landing pad, she noted. More utilitarian than the exotic pale pink and white shells used for the resort road and paths.

  An attractive one story building squatted to one side of the pad–a waiting area for guests if the shuttles were all in use, Albie explained. The waiting area was open-walled and roofed with palm-leaves, with tables, cushioned chairs and a refreshment bar. Carts were lined up, ready to transport the guests to their cottages or the hotel.

  A second long, stone building housed the mechanics area for any needed shuttle repairs. She learned that it also functioned as a hurricane shelter and was roomy enough to accommodate the carts, chairs, and other loose items from the lounge so they wouldn’t be swept away. The shuttles had heavy duty tie-downs to keep them from being flipped in the event of high winds.

  The weather had been so perfect since Harriet’s arrival she couldn’t imagine what a tropical storm would be like, but she was happy to learn that the infrequent storms had been taken into consideration during the design process.

  She couldn’t come up with any scenario that explained how Bradley had ended up dead and hanging in Solly’s greenhouse and the killer vanished. Her ex had flown in on an early shuttle and that’s the last anyone had seen of Bradley Higgins until she and Solly found him dead.

  How had Bradley flown in when guests weren’t slated to arrive until the next day?

&nbs
p; She aired her frustration to Albie. “I think I want to go back to my cottage,” she said. “I’ve seen enough for today. Thank you for taking me around, but I need a walk on the beach. I want to clear my head and get ready for work tomorrow.”

  “Does that mean you’ve given up trying to solve your friend’s murder?” Albie asked as he headed toward the south end of the island.

  “I guess. I don’t have any ideas and no one has jumped out at me and confessed, so, yeah. I’m afraid I’m done.” She only wished that she felt better about giving up.

  “It’s probably for the best, Miss Harry.” Albie reached over and patted her knee. “Hunting killers can be very dangerous work. I’d hate to see anything happen to you before you get a chance to show us all what a great PR Director you’ll be.”

  Harriet looked at Albie’s grinning face and felt a little lighter. She smiled back at him. “You are a wise man, Albion Aloysius Carter. If Mr. Wade keeps me on I promise you that I am going to be the very best PR Director this resort will ever have. Just you watch and see.”

  “I look forward to it, Miss Harry, I look forward to it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The long walk on the beach and a good night’s sleep had helped Harriet’s mood a great deal. It was tough to hang onto gloom and doom when you lived in paradise. Waking up to warm, salty ocean breezes and the sound of waves kissing the shore was a great way to start any day.

  She dressed in the only summer suit she had brought with her, a pale pink linen skirt suit with a cream-colored silk tank under the jacket. The natural fibers had cost her an exorbitant number of credits but were worth the price. Her philosophy when it came to clothing was to buy the very best she could afford and own fewer pieces. Unfortunately the bulk of her wardrobe was chosen for the damp and cold Maine climate.

  She’d have to see if she could make a trip to the mainland on her day off to shop for more office clothes. From what she’d seen, the staff’s dress code was business casual, so coming up with a few items she could mix and match with the separate pieces of her linen suit and the silk tank shouldn’t be too difficult–and hopefully not too hard on her dwindling finances.

  Mr. Wade paid his employees on the first of the month and it was only the seventeenth. She had used a larger portion of her savings to fly to different cities than she had planned on and was dangerously short of credits. All for nothing as it turned out, since Bradley had easily tracked her to the island.

  Fortunately room and board was part of her salary or she’d be sleeping on the beach and eating kitchen scraps.

  The thought made her shudder. The memories of her early years living hand-to-mouth on Portland’s streets were still easily recalled and better left forgotten. She pushed them away, put a smile on her face, and walked into the long, one-story building that housed her office.

  A smartly turned out droid manned the high reception desk in the center of the lobby. He hadn’t been there the last two days. A new addition in response to the murder?

  The droid wore a smile on his handsome face and a white linen suit with a resort blue shirt. The corner of a neatly folded matching blue hankie peeked from his breast pocket.

  “How may I direct you today, miss?” Harriet caught the faint trace of an upper class British accent in the droid’s smooth voice.

  “I’m Harriet Monroe. Today is my first official day of work.”

  The droid check his comm unit. “Yes. I see you here. Public Relations Director. May I see your i.d. tag, please?”

  Harriet handed him her photo i.d. He scanned the tag, his face going blank for the few seconds it took, and checked the results against his internal database. “Do you need directions to your office, Miss Monroe?” he asked, handing back Harriet’s tag

  Harriet slipped the tag back inside her bag. “Thank you, no. I know the way.”

  “In that case, enjoy your day, Miss Monroe. If you need anything please dial seven and let me know.”

  Harrie turned to walk away, then turned back. “You’re new, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes, miss. There are several of us, installed today as an extra layer of protection upon Mr. Hayes’ request.”

  “I see. Do you have a name?”

  “You may call us Jeeves, miss.”

  “Jeeves?”

  The droid’s face remained impassive. “I believe it is a joke, miss. You would have to ask Mr. Hayes.”

  “I’ll do that,” Harriet mumbled as she headed for her office. Her heels clicked smartly on the wide hall’s creamy white tiled floor. Wide-bladeded fans already twirled lazily overhead. Tall, narrow windows spaced evenly along the left hand wall looked out on the crushed shell road and the kitchen building situated opposite.

  Frescos of island life covered the righthand walls. Albie had told her that the frescos were painted by a renowned island artist. Harriet thought they were quite good. She recognized the mangrove swamp with its flock of brilliant flamingos and the three mountains in the island’s center.

  The door to her office was neatly camouflaged at the base of the center mountain, the security panel hidden in a slim waterfall.

  She placed her palm on the security reader and keyed in her personal code. The door slid silently open and Harriet entered her office with a mixture of thrill and determination. Damage control had to be done before the fallout from Bradley’s murder caused too many cancellations and it was up to her to see to it.

  The first thing she did was kick off her heels and open the doors to the lanai to let in the sea breezes, taking a moment to enjoy the view. The white beach, empty but for a trio of black-headed gulls, stretched in both directions. By later that afternoon the island would no longer feel like a private paradise, she realized. There would be guests on the water and the beach.

  She walked to the wall of shelves and picked up the holo of her mother and father and wished them peace and happiness, a daily habit she had started as a child–her way of trying to maintain contact with her dead parents.

  Setting it back, she decided it was time to get a still made from the holo so she could have her parents with her in her cottage as well as in the office. She could see to it when she went to the mainland to shop for clothing.

  The holo was all she had left of them. She had never thought to ask her Aunt Wendy why there were no other mementos of her mother and father and her aunt had never offered any.

  She recalled shedding a lot of tears when she first went to live with her aunt and uncle and begging them to let her see her parents.

  She couldn’t remember anything about her parents from before that time, other than brief, chaotic flashes of memory. One day her aunt had shown up with a man and a woman, both dressed in matching uniforms, to take Harriet away. There had been an accident, her aunt said, and Harriet had to go with them.

  Her aunt had told her that her parents were dead, that there could be no going back, and Harriet’s life was with them now. An accident, was all she would answer when Harriet pressed for more information.

  She suddenly had a vague memory of sitting in her father’s lap with the others in a large, happy circle. Somehow she knew it was a happy moment. Because they were singing? Harriet remembered pressing her ear against her father’s chest to feel his deep voice rumble there. They must have had a lot of friends because there were always other adults around and lots of children to play with.

  She tried to push for more of the memory but a sharp pain stabbed through her head. Damn migraines. She’d started getting them after going to live with her aunt and uncle. Fortunately the type she was afflicted with never lasted long.

  The sharp pain morphed to a dull throb that beat low inside the back of Harriet’s skull. She rubbed the back of her neck and forced her mind to concentrate on more important, more current matters.

  She still thought the murder-themed dinner theatre idea was a good one. She simply needed to find a way to convince Lana to give it a shot.

  Harriet settled at her desk and engaged her
comm station. She went to work collecting testimonials and researching data on the old dinner theatre tradition. Several hours passed. She was glad for the interruption when Solly came in with a large, colorful bouquet of flowers for her office.

  “I didn’t see you yesterday or last night,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Are you all right?” He carried the flowers to the conversation area and set it in the center of the table.

  “The flowers are beautiful, Solly. Thank you. And yes, I’m fine. Albie took me on a tour of the resort yesterday. I was pretty beat by the time I got home so I crashed early.”

  “Yeah? What’d you see?”

  “He took me to the amusement park, which is pretty incredible. The antique carousel is amazing.” She pointed a finger at him. “And don’t even dare to think you’ll ever get me on that coaster.”

  Solly flashed a grin, showing that he remembered their trip to the amusement park all those years ago. “Are you daring me to try? I got you on the mini-coaster, didn’t I?”

  Solly could be relentless if he thought she had issued a dare. Since Harriet had no intention of ever riding the resort’s roller coaster she ignored him and changed the subject. “I met Braxton Holliday. He’s like a big human bear.”

  “Brax is a good guy. A little scary to look at maybe, but he knows his ride attractions inside and out. You can bet there will never be an accident while he’s managing the park.” Solly walked over to Harriet’s chiller and pulled two waters.

  “Where else did you go?” he asked, handing her one.

  Harriet cracked open the water and leaned back against her desk. “We went to the marina. A crew of droids was rigging the sailboats. Reminded me of Portland Harbor. Remember all the times we’d roam around the docks looking for food or just watching the fishing boats?”

  “I do, although it’s a mixed bag of memories. We were desperately hungry more often than I care to remember during that time.” He took a thoughtful sip of his water. “Is Dix back with his wife and new baby yet? I need to take Dorinda some flowers.”

  Harriet made a face. “If you mean Leonard Dixon, no. At least he wasn’t back yesterday. I met his assistant manager though. Big Ed. He was not at all friendly. Not at all.”