by Emmie Lyn
At least she asked, but before I answered, she’d waved and called out to her two friends from the birding group. “Over here. There’s plenty of room for you, too.”
Hitch put his arm around my shoulders and dipped his head close to my ear. “Look at it this way, Sunshine. Now you can ask more questions and dig deeper into motives and opportunity.”
He was right.
31
“What a great day to be out on the water,” Melanie said when Scott and Lana joined us. Lana’s sunburned cheeks and Scott’s windblown hair radiated a picture of carefree fun. In contrast, Melanie sounded miffed. Was she put out that she hadn’t been included?
“It was great. Listen,” Lana said with her hands on the back of one of the empty chairs, “before we get too comfy, Peter is supposed to meet us here. He was busy with some boring work-related stuff and couldn’t join us on the boat. Will that be too many people?”
Melanie visibly tensed. It was obvious that Lana enjoyed the company of Scott and Peter without Melanie cramping her style.
Tilly smiled and said, “The more the merrier. Now, let me see, that makes seven, right?” She dragged two tables together.
I pulled over another chair and said, “I’ll squeeze in here between Hitch and Tilly.” I made sure we were on the side to get the best view of the moonlight reflecting on Blueberry Bay.
“Melanie can sit on that end, Peter on the other end when he gets here, and Scott and Lana together on that side. How’s that?”
After we shifted the chairs and everyone settled in their seats, we looked like your average group of friends ready for a relaxing dinner. But when I glanced at each face at the table, I wondered what secrets were hidden behind the friendly smiles and innocent chatter.
The waitress arrived with lemon water, and Scott ordered two bottles of chardonnay. “It’s the least I can do since we’re crashing your party.”
It wouldn’t be enough, but it was a start.
“Melanie,” Scott said. “You won’t believe what I found today.” He dug around in his pocket and held up a chickadee earring. “Is this the one you lost?”
“Oh, my goodness. It is. Where did you find it?” She tilted her head and attached the earring. “That feels so much better. Thank you.”
“On that little secluded beach I showed you the other day.”
Lana scowled at the interaction but fortunately got distracted. She popped up off her chair, sending it tipping backward, and waved wildly. “Peter! Over here.”
We all turned our heads and saw him return a wave. He headed across the patio with a confident gait, looking comfortable in well-worn jeans and rolled up shirt sleeves. A quick tick of his eyebrows indicated surprise when he realized Tilly, Hitch, and I were joining his dinner party. From the look on his face, he thought it was odd that we’d suddenly become part of this group of birding friends.
“To whom do I owe the pleasure of being invited to join this interesting group?” he asked after he’d settled on the remaining chair at the end of the table. He casually picked up the linen napkin, letting it fall across his lap.
“It’s just one of those unplanned events,” Tilly said. “Hitch invited Sunny, then Melanie and I tagged along, and what a surprise… we bumped into Scott and Lana arriving after they’d finished their boat trip.” She spread her arms wide. “And here we all are on this beautiful evening under the moonlight.”
“Yeah, Peter, we missed you today,” Lana said and squeezed his hand. Scott scowled. “Did you get all of your boring work done?”
Peter chuckled. “It wasn’t boring to me. Just the opposite, Lana. I finished the final edits and now my book is in my publisher’s hands. How was your boating adventure?”
“Spectacular,” Scott said, taking over the reins of the conversation. I felt a simmering competition going on as Scott and Peter vied for Lana’s attention. Tonight, she had the upper hand while Melanie stewed. I wondered how I could use the rivalry to dig out some information.
Our waitress arrived with the wine. Scott made a big deal sniffing then tasting a sample before he nodded approval. With all glasses filled, he raised his and said, “To boating on Blueberry Bay, where dreams can come true.” He clinked against Lana’s glass and she blushed like they shared a delicious secret. Or, I wondered, were his dreams connected to a big drug payout?
“Scott,” I said, drawing his attention away from Lana. “Melanie told me that you’re the expert on shore birds. Did you see anything interesting on your morning walk yesterday?”
“Oh, just the usual—sandpipers, a pair of cormorants, and several species of seagulls. A bit of a disappointment because the trail was crowded with too many other people walking around. And, when I say too many people, it was maybe three or four, but I prefer solitude when Lana doesn’t come with me.” He turned and smiled at her.
The waitress returned, and we all placed our orders. Hitch and I chose the grilled lobster tail while others ordered a blackened spicy scallop dish that sounded delicious. I made a mental note to try that next time.
I picked up a warm roll and buttered it. “How close are those shore trails to Ron’s property?” I asked no one in particular.
“Everything is interconnected,” Peter said. “That’s why we all enjoy Ron’s trails for our birding expeditions. Between the fields, woods, and shoreline, it’s a perfect mix for a variety of bird sightings. He’s been very generous with allowing access… but now?”
“Because of the murder?” Tilly asked, picking up where I’d left off. “You think Ron will close off access?”
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t discussed that with him yet, but it would be a shame. I plan to still use them. Andy and I spent hours and hours photographing the bird life from those trails. Actually, Andy photographed everything. Sometimes he lost focus on what I’d hired him to do, which, I have to admit, upset me.”
“You let him know, too, didn’t you? It makes me wonder,” Melanie said.
Peter leaned forward even though he was at the opposite end of the table. “Wonder what? Spit it out, Melanie. Maybe it’s time we all clear the air about Andy. This undertone of suspicion is tedious.” He took a long gulp of wine.
“Come on you two. This isn’t the time or place for this discussion,” Lana said with a quick glance at me.
“Actually,” I said. “What better time is there? The bottom line is that you all do have some explaining to do. Scott was on Ron’s trails when Andy was murdered; Peter argued with him; Andy lost it with Lana at the library; and Melanie wasn’t happy about photos Andy took of her.”
Four pairs of eyes stared at me.
Peter threw his napkin on his plate and pushed himself away from the table. “What is this? I’m not interested in hearing these stories from amateur hour.” He stormed off the patio without a backward glance.
Scott drained his wine. “Yeah, my appetite is gone. Let’s go, Lana.” He stood up and yanked on her arm.
“Ow! You’re hurting me, Scott.” She pulled away and remained seated, watching him as he stalked off to his boat.
“What was that all about?” Lana asked looking like the high expectations for her evening plans were now shattered into tiny bits. She glared at me and said, “Why are you trying to stir up trouble?”
“Trouble? Is it just a bit of an inconvenience that Andy was murdered but your life can just go on its merry old way?” I was so over her princess behavior. “Come on, Lana, why did both Scott and Peter storm off when all I did was lay out facts in front of them? What are they hiding?”
“I promised not to tell,” she whispered and looked over her shoulder to the peaceful scene of Blueberry Bay. I heard a small sigh when I followed her gaze to an empty slip at the pier where Scott’s boat had been.
Hitch topped off her glass of wine. Always a good host, but I suspected he had more up his sleeve tonight, like loosening Lana’s tongue.
Melanie moved from the end of the table into Scott’s seat. She put her arm
around Lana’s shoulders. “You can tell us,” she said like they were suddenly best friends instead of just moments earlier, arch rivals. “Did Scott say something about Andy?”
“He hated Andy. Ever since Andy verbally and almost physically attacked me at the library. I was so upset, I even considered moving, but Scott said he’d take care of Andy.” She gasped and covered her mouth. “It sounds worse now that I’ve said it out loud. I never thought he meant it, you know, literally.”
Melanie tut-tutted and stroked Lana’s hair. “People say that kind of thing all the time, but it doesn’t mean he killed Andy.”
“Well, he said he was on Ron’s property yesterday morning and now you’re telling us he said he’d take care of Andy. That’s motive and opportunity in my opinion,” Tilly said.
This gave me an idea. “Maybe Scott found Andy at Ron’s barn. Suppose he wanted to tell him off, but things got heated and the argument went horribly wrong,” I suggested. I was just spitballing. I wasn’t sure I really believed this, but I wanted to calm Lana down and keep her talking.
“Maybe, but there’s more,” Lana said between a few heartfelt sobs. “When we were all at Shakes and Cakes, you know, after Andy was murdered?” She paused to root in her purse for a tissue. “Scott told me to say I was with him that morning on his walk.” Another pause to blow her nose. “But I told him I couldn’t lie. He finally stopped pressuring me when the police focused on Jess. I guess, after that, he wasn’t worried about needing an alibi.”
That revelation put a damper on any chance for a relaxing evening.
Our meals arrived, but my appetite had vanished. I picked at my food, finished the wine, and had the leftovers packed to go. With Lana squeezed in the back of Hitch’s Camaro between Tilly and Melanie, our ride back to Ron’s house was much too quiet.
Where would all this lead to next?
32
I got up early. A fitful night of tossing and turning was neither restful nor helpful as I turned Lana’s conversation over in my head. Now I was determined to get Ron’s opinion about what she’d told us about Scott.
Plus, I missed Jasper.
I peered through the curtains but didn’t see Tilly’s car across the street in her driveway, so I quickly dressed and drove to Ron’s house alone. Somehow, Hitch beat me to it I realized when I saw his truck parked next to Stacy’s Honda. I stood next to my car for a moment, letting the morning mist swirl around me, chilling my face. The quiet, almost deserted area, felt eerie.
I chose the path to the kitchen door. I’d risk facing Stacy, as grumpy as she’d been the night before, in order to locate Hitch and the others.
She stood with her back against the house, staring at the sky, with a cigarette glowing between her fingers.
“Your dog is well-mannered,” she said without looking at me.
“Jasper wasn’t any trouble?”
“Surprisingly not, for such a big lug. Ron told me that she stayed with the girl all night.” Stacy took a drag and blew out smoke rings. “I don’t like how it feels around here now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Andy. We all had a routine. I like routine. Now, Ron is sad. He’s focused on the girl. Little Blue needs more attention. It’s all off kilter.” She finished the cigarette, ground the butt out with the toe of her boot, then picked it up and tucked it into her pocket. “And people keep showing up at odd hours. I don’t like it.”
“Who else showed up?” I didn’t like that either, and the hairs on my arms stood up.
“That teacher guy, Scott something-or-other. He came by early and read Ron the riot act. He insisted he never came to the barn the day Andy was murdered. He was throwing a fit that someone might start rumors about him.”
“What did Ron say about that?”
“He told Scott to leave and not to come back. Said the trails are off limits for the foreseeable future. He’d let the police know about that, too. Then Ron and that friend of yours, Hitch, left to check all the trails and post No Trespassing signs.”
Hitch must have told Ron what Lana said about Scott. “Where are Izzy and Jess? And Jasper?” Normally, I’d welcome the stillness around us, but now? It made my skin crawl.
“Jess left for work and the girl is inside. I suppose you want to go in?”
I was beginning to get used to Stacy’s bluntness and decided not to take anything personally. Ron trusted her, so why shouldn’t I?
“If you don’t mind.”
Stacy shrugged and opened the door. “I have to start getting used to these changes sometime. After you.”
I walked into the kitchen where the aroma of coffee and toast lingered. “The girl should be in the living room. I’ve got leftover coffee if you want any.”
“Thanks.” Leftover was better than nothing at this point. “I’ll just check on Izzy first.”
I left the kitchen with the sound of Stacy opening a cupboard door disturbing the stillness in the house. I expected to hear Izzy chattering away to Jasper. What was she doing? The living room, only a few steps beyond the kitchen door, was empty.
“Izzy?” Getting no answer, I walked faster, poking my head into the dining room, the sitting room, and even checking the door to Ron’s bird room. Nothing. Nothing. And, locked.
A chill, like an unwelcome draft, made my blood run cold. I hurried back to the kitchen.
“I can’t find Izzy,” I said. I stood there rooted in place, panic-stricken.
“Check the barn,” Stacy said without looking up. “The girl mumbled something about taking the dog outside. They’ll be fine.” Stacy handed me a mug, which I took without thinking about whether I wanted it or not. It was something to hold onto as I rushed outside, sloshing the hot coffee over my fingers.
“Izzy?” I shouted. “Izzy! Where are you?” I shouted louder as I hurried toward the barn.
Jasper woofed in the distance.
I dropped the mug and raced toward the sound, keeping my mind blank of all the horrible things that could transpire in the barn.
Izzy, with Jasper at her side, walked out of the barn cradling something in her hands. “I was pushing my bike out but look what we found.”
I slowed, ran my hand over my head, and took a deep cleansing breath. “What is it?” I asked, surprised that my voice sounded natural.
Izzy looked up at me. “A butterfly, but I think it’s hurt. It wasn’t flying.” She opened her hands and the butterfly, an orange and black monarch, slowly extended its wings, flapped awkwardly several times, then soared into the air.
“Look.” I pointed until it disappeared. “You saved it, Izzy. It needed to get out of the barn, and now it’s free to fly away.”
The crunch of tires on gravel made me turn around. Stacy was right. Too many people coming and going. Jasper ran toward the car, barking and wagging her tail.
“It’s Peter,” Izzy said. “He came here a lot looking for Andy.” She called Jasper back without luck. “Andy took bird pictures for him. Does he know what happened?” she asked, her eyes glistening with tears.
“He knows. Can you do me a favor? Go into the house and tell Stacy that Peter’s here, but I’ll let him know that he can’t hike the trails today.”
“Okay. Come on, Jasper,” she called, and they dashed off to the kitchen door. That girl needs a dog, I told myself as I watched the pair disappear.
“Peter,” I said. He’d gotten out of his car and walked toward me.
“Is Ron around?” he asked. “In the barn, maybe?” He trudged past me, stepping on a remnant of yellow do not cross tape.
“No, but I have a message for you,” I said, following him into the gloomy barn.
He stopped suddenly and turned, catching me by surprise. I almost crashed into him. “What are you talking about? Why are you delivering Ron’s messages?”
I could see that his anger still festered from the night before. Peter struck me as someone who liked to run the show and not submit to questions.
He scowled at me and s
aid, “I’ll call Ron.” He leaned against one of the stalls and took out his phone. “Figures. No reception in here.”
He looked around. “Is that Izzy’s bike? Where is she? Didn’t I see her with you when I drove in? She must be upset about what happened to Andy. Those two were always hanging around together.”
Peter walked farther into the barn, peeking over stall doors before he stopped in front of the ladder. “Is this where they found him?”
“What difference does it make?” An unease settled in my stomach.
He shrugged. “Just wondering.” He bent over, rubbing his hand over the floor. Something slid from his shirt pocket, clinked on the cement, bounced, and rolled toward me.
I picked up one of Peter’s special pens.
My heart stopped.
33
I stared at the gold pen in my hand. Like a slow motion video, images flashed through my brain—Andy dead under a horse blanket, a broken ladder rung, a broken shovel, bits of crushed gold metal, Peter autographing a napkin for Tilly with a gold pen, Peter knowing where the body was found.
“Thanks.” Peter reached for it.
I moistened my lips and looked at his hand, not releasing my grip on his pen. A fancy gold watch glistened on his wrist and a big diamond ring sparkled on his pinky finger.
His cold dark eyes stared at me.
I knew I should leave; get help, but I couldn’t risk this cold-blooded murderer disappearing.
“You had the perfect set up here, didn’t you?” I asked. “Access to trails connecting to Blueberry Bay for coordinating your drug deals. Until Andy, working alongside you taking pictures of everything and everyone, put it all together.”
Peter yanked the pen from my hand. “You’re delusional. He never suspected me.”
“But he knew his cover was compromised. Tell me, Peter, did you yank him off the ladder or was it just your lucky day that the ladder rung broke, giving you the upper hand?”
