by Sara Rosett
My gaze went to the pool of blood. The white walls and bare stair treads of the utilitarian staircase made the splash of the bright red at the foot of the stairs stand out. The low murmur of the waiters’ conversation resumed in the dining room and filtered through the heavy door. I sent up a prayer for Julia and the medical people who would take care of her. I didn’t know exactly what she’d done since she arrived on Camden Island—what she might have done to Summer—but I hoped she recovered from her fall.
I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed Mitch’s number. I could hear the kids’ voices in the background when he answered. I told him about Julia’s fall.
“Is she going to be okay?” Mitch asked quietly.
“I don’t know. Rebekah said something about airlifting her to the mainland if they needed to.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“I know. Maybe they won’t need to do it.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. A little shaken up—you know how it is, you see something like that, and you can’t help but think of how fragile life is.” I blew out what the stroller brigade exercise leader called a cleansing breath. “But I’m all right. Just taking a few minutes to get my equilibrium back. I haven’t seen Redding yet, and someone needs to tell Summer and Brian what has happened.”
The line was silent for a moment, then Mitch said, “Let’s wait and see what we hear about Julia’s condition.”
“I don’t think we should wait. Graham went with her. Who knows how long he’ll be gone? I hate to be insensitive and bring things back to the wedding, but the rehearsal and dinner are in”—I paused to check my watch—“three hours. Is this terribly crass to bring this up now? I hate to focus on wedding details at a time like this, but I don’t know if Graham will be back by six. If Julia is transferred to the mainland . . . well, he may not make it back tonight or even tomorrow for the wedding. Brian and Summer need to know so that they can make plans.” I ran my fingers along the grain of wood in the banister, keeping my gaze focused on it, not the blood on the floor. “I wish we didn’t have to tell them,” I added. “There’s already been so much that has gone wrong.”
“I know,” Mitch said, and I could hear the concern in his voice. “But you’re right. They need to know. Summer’s pretty tough. She can handle it. I’ll get the kids settled with the cousins who are babysitting tonight. Then I’ll talk to Summer.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you in our room after I talk to Redding. Don’t forget we have to change for the rehearsal.”
“I know. Suit and tie,” Mitch said grumpily. Despite all that had just happened, I smiled at his tone. Mitch didn’t exactly enjoy dressing up.
“You’ll look devastatingly attractive,” I said. “And it won’t be as bad as the tux you’ll wear tomorrow.”
“Don’t remind me.”
A woman in a resort uniform pushed through the door as I ended the call. She held a basket of cleaning supplies and started when she saw me. “Are you okay? Do you need help, ma’am?” she asked.
“No. No, I’m all right,” I said as I put my phone away. “Just taking a break.”
She nodded as she bent over the puddle of blood to clean it up, and I grasped the smooth wooden banister to lever myself up. It seemed that it was hours ago when I’d pushed through that door on my way to talk to Redding about Patricia. I turned to climb the stairs. I dropped Julia’s camera off in our hotel room. I’d either return it to Graham or leave it with the front desk, if I didn’t see Graham.
I went to the conference room. Redding was entering the room with Craig when I arrived. I held up a hand to draw his attention. “Sorry to interrupt. When you have a minute, I have some information for you.”
“All right. I’ll be with you in a moment.” Redding motioned me over to a set of club chairs positioned by a window.
My definition of “a moment” and Redding’s definition were completely different. I sat in the chair, intermittently checking the time. At the half-hour mark, Craig emerged looking shaken. His scared expression reminded me of the kids when I caught them doing something they knew they shouldn’t, which was at odds with his beefy physique. He nodded to me once, then headed out. Redding strode out of the room and stopped abruptly. He’d clearly forgotten I was waiting. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Avery, I can’t speak to you right now. I have your cell phone number in the statement we took earlier.” He took a few steps away from me and moved down the hall as he spoke. “I’ll track you down as soon as I can.”
Frustrated, I watched his back disappear around the corner, wondering if he’d just gotten the news about Julia. If that was what he was rushing off to check on, I could have given him the inside scoop. Well, that was that. I couldn’t force Redding to listen to me. I headed back to our room and let myself inside. The first thing I saw was the thick binder of wedding details that I’d deposited on the bed after my lunch with Summer. The accident with Julia had pushed everything else out of my mind except how it would impact Brian and Julia, but there were still a ton of wedding details to follow up on. I had confirmed everyone’s showtimes before lunch and tennis, but I only had a few hours to do final checks for the rehearsal and dinner.
I flipped to the section related to the rehearsal and set off in a quest to mark things off my list. First, I stopped by the gazebo where the wedding would take place. The chairs would be set up tomorrow. For the run-through tonight, chalk outlines had been placed on the grass, marking off the aisle and the areas where the wedding party would stand. Everything looked in order there, except for the clouds banking in the sky to the west. What had been a thin strip of wispy clouds now had grown thick and dark. I turned and hurried away from the ominous sight, reminding myself that there was a backup plan. The wedding could be moved indoors.
I hurried through the dining room, but paused for a second in the alcove. It was quiet there, and my thoughts went immediately to Julia, but I reminded myself I had things that must be done, so I pressed on to the kitchen and confirmed that the menu for the rehearsal dinner was already being prepped.
Corsages and boutonnieres made of white roses accented with lily of the valley and sweet pea had been delivered and had been placed in a special refrigerated storage area in the kitchen, which was reserved for floral arrangements. A quick peek into the banquet room at the end of the dining hall showed that the resort staff were laying out place settings while the florist moved from table to table, positioning centerpieces with the same flowers as the bridal bouquet. I checked off the last item on my list, thinking that the details related to the wedding itself were going exceptionally well. If only I could get everything else to run as well.
I was on my way back to my room to change when my phone rang. I assumed the unfamiliar number was Redding, but the male voice wasn’t quite as deep as Redding’s. “Ellie?”
“Yes. Who is speaking?”
“It’s Graham. I need you to do something for me.”
Graham was the last person I expected to hear from, but I had created a contact list for members of the wedding party with names of people they could call if something came up—names of people other than the bride and groom—and since my name had been at the top of that list I should have expected the call, but it still surprised me. I’d assumed it might be hours before anyone heard from Graham. “Yes, of course. Where are you? How is Julia?”
“We’re at—I don’t even know the name of the city—whatever city is closest to Camden Island on the mainland. Julia is stable, but still unconscious.” He let out a shaky breath. “They want to keep her here for now, which is good. I think. They’re not talking about transferring her anywhere else, so that means she must be doing okay, right?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He continued, his words rushing together. “Anyway, now that things have calmed down they need to admit her. Officially, that is. She’s definitely in the hospital, but they need to do all the paperwork, and I don’t have any of her information, her insurance or anything like that. I don’t
have her parents’ phone number either, or I would have called them. I don’t even know where her phone is. Maybe it fell out of her pocket?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I went up the stairs after you . . . left, and I didn’t see anything.” The servants’ stairs were so barren that a cell phone would have been easy to spot.
“This is terrible.” Graham’s voice sounded more and more ragged as the conversation progressed. “I have to let someone know she’s in the hospital.”
“It’s okay. Just tell me what you need.” I hadn’t been around Graham much, but the flustered, breathless tones coming over the phone weren’t like anything I’d heard from him before.
“Sorry. Julia didn’t have her purse with her. I’m sure she left it in her room. If you could get the resort to open the room, and look for her purse, that would be a start. Anything you find could help me out.”
“Sure. Not a problem. Let me get the manager,” I said as I changed direction and headed for the desk, keeping Graham on the line. It took a few minutes to sort everything out, but soon I was following Mr. Markham up the stairs to the second floor. “Okay, we’re on our way now. I’ll call you back after they let me in her room.”
“Thanks, Ellie.” Graham sounded a little calmer now, but there was still an edge of worry in his voice. “I’m glad you gave out that contact list to us earlier. I really don’t want to bother Brian or Summer with this.”
“That’s okay. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll check the room and call you right back.” I’d told everyone that if they had any issues to call me and that I would help them sort out any problems that came up. I’d hoped to keep Summer out of any stressful situations, but I’d never imagined something like this.
Mr. Markham lingered on the threshold after opening Julia’s door. It was similar to the other rooms I’d seen in the resort, but since the building had been a home at one point, all the rooms were a bit different. I figured some walls had been knocked down and some rooms combined to make space for bathrooms and storage closets for the resort. Julia’s room was a bit smaller than mine or Summer’s and it had a different layout with the bath tucked around a corner, but the bedding, curtains, and furniture all looked similar to the other rooms I’d seen. This room was very tidy. Not one piece of clothing was draped over a chair or the bed, and no stray pairs of shoes were scattered around the floor.
I’d expected her purse to be tossed on the bed or in a chair, but I didn’t see it anywhere. I glanced in the bathroom. Her cosmetics bag and a flat iron sat beside the sink, its unplugged cord trailing over the tile floor. I moved to the large wooden armoire and opened it. Her clothes rested in neat stacks or hung on hangers on the rod. I saw an edge of leather half hidden behind a swimsuit cover-up. I pushed it aside and pulled the leather bag, a purse, out of the armoire. “I think this is it,” I said over my shoulder to Mr. Markham.
Julia’s purse, a satchel in a supple brown leather, would normally have made my mouth water—I love purses and handbags—but I was too focused on finding anything that would help Graham to indulge in a little purse envy.
I found her wallet and looked through it. I pulled out her driver’s license and then flipped through a stack of credit cards until I found a laminated card with a policy number for health insurance. I called Graham back.
He answered on the first ring and I read both numbers off to him “Great. Thanks so much. That will help. Did you find her cell phone?”
“No, I haven’t seen it. The resort manager and I will look around here some more and then maybe he can check the Lost and Found?” I looked toward Mr. Markham, raising my eyebrows. He nodded.
“What kind of phone is it?” I asked.
He named a brand, but I wasn’t familiar with it and asked exactly what it looked like. “It’s one of those huge ones with the oversize screen,” he said. “You can’t miss it. She has a cover on it with a picture of high heels and the screen saver is a picture of a palm tree on a beach.”
“Okay. I’ll call you back in a minute.”
I handed off the wallet and the purse to Mr. Markham. “Perhaps these should go in the hotel safe?”
“Yes, of course.” He slipped the wallet into an inside pocket of his suit jacket. “I will take care of it as soon as we leave here.”
“Graham wants us to keep looking for her cell phone,” I said, reaching past the hanging clothes to pat the back edges of the armoire storage area. “Nothing here.”
Mr. Markham tucked the purse under his arm and moved to check the carpet around the nightstands. I scanned the pristine desk and opened a few drawers, but only found a resort notepad and a pen.
My phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number so I answered as I moved across the room to Julia’s suitcase, which was resting on a suitcase stand in the corner of the room.
“Mrs. Avery, Detective Redding, getting back to you. I’m available now, if you can come back to the conference room, I can see you.”
I didn’t have long before I needed to change for the rehearsal dinner, but after Redding’s lecture to Patricia about how the investigation took priority over wedding activities, I wasn’t about to mention it. “I can do that. It may take me a few minutes to get there, though.”
Like the purse, the suitcase was a high-quality brand trimmed in leather. I wedged the phone onto my shoulder and unzipped the suitcase.
“I should be here for the next half hour or so,” Redding said.
As I flipped the top of the suitcase open, Mr. Markham said, “Here it is.” I could see him out of the corner of my eye, bracing a hand on the bed as he stood up, holding a large phone.
“I can come right now,” I said as I reached to close the suitcase, but stopped when I glanced inside. I stepped back and shifted the phone off my shoulder into my hand. “On second thought, you’re going to want to come to Julia Banning’s room instead.”
“The woman who was injured? Why?”
“She has a paintball gun and a socket wrench in her suitcase.”
* * *
Redding arrived within minutes. Once we sorted out why Mr. Markham and I were in Julia’s room, Redding’s attention turned to the suitcase. He pulled on a pair of gloves. “What did you touch?”
“Quite a bit.” I glanced around the room. “The armoire and the desk. And the suitcase. I unzipped it, then put my finger under the edge and flipped it back.”
“I see.” Redding leaned over the suitcase.
I hadn’t touched it again, but Mr. Markham and I had spent the time waiting for Redding to arrive staring into the suitcase. A lightweight sweater, the one that Julia wore last night at the bonfire, had been placed so that it partially covered the paintball gun, which was on the very bottom of the suitcase, but the distinctive shape of the gun handle as well as the barrel were easy to distinguish as they stuck out beyond the fabric draping over it. A plastic tube of red paintball pellets was shoved down in one corner beside a socket wrench.
Redding took out a pen and used it to edge a Windbreaker up, which revealed a sandwich-sized zip-top plastic bag filled with brown leaves. I wasn’t an expert on plants, but I was pretty sure the shriveled leaves were poison ivy. The warning rhyme leaves of three, let them be popped into my thoughts as I looked at the bag.
Before Redding removed his pen and the Windbreaker dropped back, I also saw the glint of several silver lug nuts in the groove at the bottom edge of the suitcase. I’d inched forward to look over his shoulder. I hurriedly shifted back a step as Redding turned, his gaze sweeping around the room. He went to the window, which looked out over the front of the resort, and examined the frame and glass.
It was like the window in our room, a paned single-hung window with two thumb latches and no screen on the outside. He didn’t touch anything, just pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a call, requesting a crime scene technician. “Pay special attention to the window and the suitcase,” he said before ending the call.
I glanced back at the suitcase and
tried to rearrange my thoughts. Was I so wrong, so off base, about Patricia? I wished I hadn’t contacted Redding so quickly. If I’d waited an hour or two, the paintball gun, lug nuts, and socket wrench would have been found, and I could keep my crazy theories to myself, but, like Mitch said, I’d opened the box. I was sure Redding wouldn’t forget I’d wanted to talk to him, but at this point, what was the use of pointing out to him the possibility that Ned was blackmailing Patricia? It looked like I was completely wrong. The golf cart accident and the pranks all had been arranged by not two people as Mitch and I had thought, but a single person—Julia. And I had completely misread her, too. Despite the lovey-dovey atmosphere between her and Graham, she still must have been fixated on Brian.
Redding replaced his phone and moved to a door that connected to the next adjoining room. “Whose room?” Redding asked, looking toward Mr. Markham.
Since I’d flipped the suitcase open, Mr. Markham had been nervously wiping his forehead. He gave it another swipe as he said, “I believe that is Mr. Graham Murphy’s room.”
Redding used his gloved hand to try the doorknob. It turned, and he pushed the door partway open with his elbow, revealing clothes discarded on the floor and strewn across every surface, except the bed, which was neatly made. Obviously, the maids had been in earlier today and made the bed, but left everything else as it was. Redding let the door swing closed, then touched the dead bolt with a key slot instead of a lever. “I need this door to stay locked.”
As Mr. Markham pulled a ring thick with keys out of a pocket and locked the door, Redding pointed to the purse, phone, and wallet, which Mr. Markham had removed when I told him Redding was on his way to see the suitcase. Mr. Markham had lined the items up neatly on the foot of the bed. “And these belong to Julia Banning?”
“Yes. I found the purse in the armoire,” I said.
“I handled it as well,” Mr. Markham added. “I was going to put it in the hotel safe, but then . . .” His gaze shifted to the suitcase.
