by Zara Keane
Whoa. The sip of wine in my mouth turned to vinegar. What a total boor.
“You intimidate her.” Candace’s tone was flinty. “She was too scared to say she needed to use the restroom.”
Huff’s nostrils flared. “If I scare her, it’s only because you’ve raised a wimp. I’m her grandfather. Why should she be scared of me?”
If Amb held the stem of his wine glass any tighter, it would snap. “She doesn’t like it when you shout.”
His father’s sneer made me want to slap the man. “The child needs to toughen up. If you and Candace would hurry up and give her a brother, the kid would soon learn to stand up for herself.”
Amb’s face turned chalky white. Beside him, Candace’s ramrod-straight posture faltered, and her heavily Botoxed forehead threatened to display emotion. It didn’t take a degree in psychology to see that Huff’s remark had hit them like a bucket of acid.
“Has Hailey had a chance to try out the playground or the games room at Shamrock Cottages?” I directed the question at Candace, who looked as though she was about to burst into tears, and her husband flashed me a grateful look.
The woman swallowed, and a hint of a smile broke through her stiff expression. “I believe that was her plan for this evening. Martha—my sister-in-law—stayed behind to look after her.”
“It’ll be nice to see the family facilities get some use. For the last few months, the only residents have been me and my neighbor, and neither of us has kids living with us.”
“The ‘family facilities,’ as you call them, would get more use if my children were more inclined to reproduce.” Huff drained his wine glass in one go and slammed it on the table. “Doug here is divorced with no children, and Rosie and Candy only have one kid. I’d hoped for more grandchildren by now.”
“Well, don’t waste your time waiting for Martha to get married, honey,” Brandi said, a catlike smile on her lips. “At least she makes a good babysitter.”
I experienced a pang of sympathy for the absent Martha. It couldn’t be easy living with a domineering father and a stepmother who was younger than her.
Huff puffed out his chest and patted his wife’s hand. “Maybe you can take her shopping, honey. Give her a few tips. Lord knows she needs ’em.”
I was on the verge of putting my size eights into my mouth and calling Huff several uncomplimentary monikers when Helen intervened. “Now, Huff, dear,” she said in her soft, lilting voice that had never quite erased the Irish tones of her childhood. “This is a friendly family gathering with my oldest friend’s daughters and granddaughters. Save the family squabbles for an appropriate time.” She turned to me and gave me a beatific smile. “Before you arrived, Noreen had just invited me to attend your Movie Club meeting tomorrow night. It sounds fun.”
I swallowed my unspoken diatribe against her son and focused on the elderly lady. “We’d love to have you. We dress up, drink cocktails, and watch classic movies. Tomorrow night’s movie is How to Marry a Millionaire.”
“Wonderful.” Her eyes grew misty. “May would have loved that club. I have very few regrets about the decisions I made during my life, but not returning to Ireland while she was still alive is one of them.”
“Mammy adored the old movie theater in Smuggler’s Cove,” Noreen said. “I inherited my interest in old films from her. Renovating it into the Movie Theater Café was a dream come true.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it. Maybe I can persuade Candace and Martha to join me.” She glanced at her oldest grandson. “You don’t mind looking after Hailey tomorrow evening?”
For the first time that evening, Amb’s face lit up. “Sure I’ll stay with her. We can check out the games room at Shamrock Cottages.” He turned to me. “Is the games room worth investigating?”
“Definitely. I’d have loved it as a kid. There’s table tennis, foosball, snooker, and a stack of board games.”
At his end of the table, Huff cleared his throat in an exaggerated manner and began a loud and interminable story about some guy he’d beaten at golf earlier that day. Amb’s relaxed expression vanished, and the rest of the meal dragged on. I tried to engage Helen in conversation a couple of times, but either she didn’t hear me, or she was deliberately avoiding any discussion about her nephew’s untimely demise.
After a dessert that I barely tasted, we were finally set free by Huff’s announcement that he was hitting the bar. His goodbyes to us were cursory at best, and I didn’t care for the steely glint in his eyes when he shook my hand. “Good luck with your new business venture, Maggie.”
He pronounced the words “business” and “venture” like they were poison. No, his interruption earlier had been no accident. But why? Was he protecting his mother from my curiosity because she was grieving and putting on a brave face for her dinner guests? Or did Huff know something about Jimmy’s death? I dismissed this last observation. The Huffingtons hadn’t arrived on Whisper Island until this morning, hours after Jimmy was murdered.
Huff moved on to Noreen, and I shook hands with Amb, Candace, and Doug in turn. The latter held my hand longer than I liked.
“I hope to see you again soon, Maggie,” Doug whispered into my ear, his finger caressing my palm. “I’ve only been on the island for a few hours, and I’d love to get a tour of the hot spots from one of the residents. Maybe we can go out for a drink while I’m on Whisper Island.”
Or maybe not.
With a tight smile, I extricated my hand from his grasp and resisted the urge to wipe it clean. I didn’t peg Doug as a predator, but his cocky self-assurance and presumption that I’d fall at his feet reminded me of Joe, my soon-to-be ex-husband. Joe had the same easy charm and seemingly off-the-cuff compliments that I’d since discovered were well-rehearsed lines.
Amb helped Helen to her feet while Candace supplied the older woman with her cane.
“Thank you so much for coming. It’s lovely to see May’s family.” Helen turned to me. “Did anyone mention the weekend trip to you, Margaret? We might have discussed it before you arrived.”
Weekend trip? I suppressed a shudder. Any trip involving Huff Huffington wasn’t one I intended to join. “No, but I have plans this weekend.”
“If you mean your shifts at the café, I’ve already sorted that out.” Noreen beamed at me. “Kelly and one of her friends have agreed to cover for both of us.”
“We’re throwing a party on Gull Island on Saturday evening,” Helen interjected before I could respond to my aunt. “Just a small gathering. I hope you’ll come along.”
“Of course she—” Noreen began, but I cut her off. She’d twisted my arm to come to tonight’s dinner, and I hadn’t even had the opportunity to talk to Helen about Jimmy Wright. No way was I spending a weekend trapped on Gull Island with Huff.
“I have a case to investigate, but thank you for the invitation.”
Helen patted my arm. “If you change your mind, the invitation still stands. The family is going over early on Saturday morning, and I’ve arranged for a boat to take your aunts and cousin over in the afternoon.”
“I hope you all have a great time,” I said diplomatically. “See you tomorrow at the Movie Club.”
As we exited the restaurant, I turned the evening’s events over in my mind. Huff had acted shifty, and Helen was hiding something. I had no idea if their behavior was connected to Jimmy Wright’s murder, but I intended to get answers.
6
THE MORNING after my dinner with the Huffingtons, I got up early to get in a run before work. I left Mavis snoozing at the foot of my bed. She’d decided that my bedroom was hers but thankfully refrained from peeing all over it to make her point.
By the time I’d pulled on my running gear, Bran, the Border collie-Labrador mix I’d inherited from Noreen, was prancing in front of the cottage door, eager to get moving. I scratched his head. “You’re so impatient. You know I need to feed the kittens first.”
At the mere sound of me opening a can of cat food, Sukey and
Felix appeared at my side, meowing and rubbing against my legs. I bent down and stroked their soft fur. I’d been reluctant to take on pets when I hadn’t been sure how long I’d stay on Whisper Island, but now that the move looked to be permanent, I’d warmed to the idea of having company in the cottage. The kittens were the progeny of Noreen’s cats, Roly and Poly, and had just turned five months old.
From his position in front of the door, Bran whined with impatience. I ignored him and filled the kittens’ bowls with fresh water and cat food. I added bowls for Mavis for when she deigned to wake up. Once Sukey and Felix were busy with their breakfast, I laced up my running shoes and took Bran outside.
The sun was just beginning to rise. A gorgeous orange glow lit up the semicircle of houses that formed the Shamrock Cottages complex. Outside the cottages occupied by the younger members of the Huffington clan, Candace and a short woman I didn’t recognize were setting tables for breakfast. Torn between impatience to start my run and curiosity to meet Huff’s only daughter, I tugged on Bran’s leash to rein him in. The decision was made for me when Candace spotted me and waved.
I jogged over to join them, Bran pulling me forward at a rapid pace. “Morning.”
Candace wore a light linen summer dress and strappy sandals. Even at five-thirty in the morning, her makeup was perfect. “Hello, Margaret. I hope you slept well.”
“Yes, thanks. And I prefer Maggie.”
“Ah.” A thin smile appeared on her lips. “I wondered.”
She made it sound like an insult, but I let it pass. I focused on the woman beside her. In spite of Martha’s shapeless beige dress and a face free from makeup, I judged her to be no older than her early thirties. I stretched out a hand. “I’m Maggie Doyle. I live at Number Eight.”
The woman darted a glance at Candace before shoving a strand of mousey hair behind one ear. “Martha Huffington.”
“I was sorry to miss you last night,” I said in a warmer tone than I’d used with her sister-in-law. “I hope you can make the Movie Club meeting tonight.”
“Well, I—” Martha looked flustered, and her pale hand fluttered to the string of pearls around her neck. What was it about dedicated spinsters and strands of pearls?
“Of course she’ll be there.” Candace squeezed her sister-in-law’s shoulder. “You enjoy old movies, don’t you, Martha?”
The woman inclined her neck a fraction. “I guess so.”
“Then that’s settled.” Candace turned to me. “What time do we need to be there?”
“Eight o’clock would be good,” I replied. “We drink cocktails before the movie begins.”
“That sounds lovely.” This time Candace’s smile was reflected in her eyes. “We’ll see you then.”
AFTER MY RUN, I showered, dressed, and drove the thirty-minute distance from Shamrock Cottages to the Movie Theater Café. I didn’t bother with breakfast—I’d grab a scone at the café and wash it down with some of Noreen’s excellent coffee.
My day passed in a blur of waiting tables, baking scones, and snatching spare moments to hunt down the missing sheep. By the time the café closed that evening, I had to conclude that my investigation was not progressing well. The few people who remembered the sheep incident were of the opinion that Nancy had wandered off and fallen off the cliff.
“Paddy’s rift with Jimmy Wright was well known,” Noreen said while we were setting up the café for the Movie Club meeting. “No one took it seriously. Sure, we all know Paddy has a temper, but he’s all bark and no bite.”
I glanced up from the James Cagney table, where I was going over the accounts with Julie. “What triggered the feud? The missing sheep, or something before that?”
“Oh, that’s been going on for years. Jimmy and Paddy used to be best friends…until Jimmy married Paddy’s ex-girlfriend.”
I recalled the wedding photo I’d seen in Jimmy’s bedroom. “I heard they got divorced.”
“Poor old Jimmy,” Julie said. “Mum said Sally had departed for the mainland before the ink was dry on the marriage certificate.”
With, presumably, the kid I’d seen in the photograph beside Jimmy’s bed. “Did Paddy have contact with his son?”
An expression of surprise flooded my aunt’s face, and Julie looked equally perplexed.
“Son?” Noreen shook her head. “Ah, no. Jimmy was quiet about his private life, but he’d have said if Sally had been pregnant.”
“He had a photo of a little boy on his nightstand, taken in the Eighties.”
“Really?” Noreen considered this for a moment. “Are you sure it wasn’t one of the Huffington boys?”
“I guess it could be.”
“They’d be about the right age,” Julie said. “Only why would Jimmy have a photo of just one of them and not the other?”
“Exactly,” I added. “And what about Martha?”
Noreen frowned. “I don’t know. Perhaps Jimmy was godfather to one of the boys.”
“That’s a possibility.” If Jimmy was close enough to the Huffingtons to be a godfather to one of Huff’s boys, why had they acted so cagey yesterday when I’d mentioned the murder? A thought struck me. “Who’s Jimmy’s next of kin?”
“Helen Huffington, I suppose,” Noreen said. “Jimmy’s only brother died a few years back, and there’s no one else. Why don’t you want to go to Gull Island, Maggie? The Huffingtons have rented Marley House for the occasion. It’s bound to be a lovely weekend.”
I arched one eyebrow. “Don’t you mean Margaret?”
Julie giggled.
Noreen had the good grace to blush. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me last night. Those people were so…formal. And Huff…well, you saw what he’s like. I got nervous.”
“Huff’s an uncouth boor,” I said with feeling. “There’s no need to make my name posh for him.”
“The man is a pig,” Julie added. “You missed him insulting his wife, Maggie. He flat-out told her she was stupid.”
“She doesn’t strike me as book smart,” I said, “but she’s got a certain cunning. She’s smart enough to dress in a way she knows will please Huff.”
“Won’t you reconsider the weekend trip, Maggie?” Noreen’s eyes were pleading. “You haven’t been out to Gull Island since you moved to Whisper Island. We took you a couple of times when you visited as a child.”
“I remember. We visited Dolphin Island, too. I have fond memories of both, but I don’t want to spend the weekend with Huff just to see Gull Island again.”
“You don’t have to hang out with Huff,” Noreen argued. “He’s made it perfectly clear he’s not interested in us. But Doug seems to like you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I get the impression that Doug likes every female from puberty to menopause.”
“He is on the slimy side,” Julie agreed, pushing a stray auburn curl behind her ear.
“See?” I said to Noreen. “Even Julie agrees, and she’s got arguably worse taste in men than I do.”
“A low blow,” my cousin said dryly. “I figure we’re about even in the bad taste stakes.”
A vision of Sergeant Liam Reynolds flashed through my mind, and the butterflies in my stomach took flight. “We can make a conscious decision to change. We don’t have to settle for bad guys.”
“Never settle for bad coffee, bad men, and bad books,” Philomena said, staggering through the café door laden with a stack of movie magazines. “If Maggie doesn’t want to go to Gull Island, leave her alone.”
I raised an eyebrow. Philomena was usually just as much a matchmaker as her sister. “Why does your support worry me?”
Philomena dumped the magazines on a table with a complacent smile. “Money is all very well and good, but I’d like you and Julie to settle down with men likely to stay on the island.”
“Of course you would.” I exchanged an amused glance with my cousin. If it were left up to my aunts, Julie and I would be dragged down the aisle with the nearest farmers.
While Julie and I fin
ished the accounts, I considered the information about Jimmy Wright. The farm and its surrounding land must be worth a chunk of change, but the Huffingtons were multi-millionaires. Jimmy’s farm would have little impact on their financial situation. Besides, the Huffingtons hadn’t arrived on Whisper Island until after Jimmy’s murder.
I was still mulling over the strange circumstances of Jimmy’s murder when Lenny arrived. He always volunteered to help us set up for the Movie Club meetings, and he was responsible for the tech side of screening the movies.
“Hey, ladies.” Lenny grinned at me. “Still chasing sheep, Maggie?”
I groaned. “That case is a disaster. I don’t think I can justify charging Paddy. I haven’t been able to discover anything half the island doesn’t know.”
My friend slapped me on the back. “I have faith in you. Something’ll turn up.”
I glanced at my watch. “You’d better get up to the projection room.”
“Ahem,” he said, grinning. “Don’t you mean your office?”
I pulled a face. “An office I haven’t had a chance to use.”
“I’ve put the word out that you’re in business,” Noreen said, bustling into the café with a tray loaded with clean cocktail glasses. “You’ll soon have more clients.”
I exchanged an amused look with Lenny. I just hoped that future clients wouldn’t want me to look for long-dead sheep.
Lenny departed to make sure everything was in working order for the screening later, and I helped Julie and my aunts get snacks ready for the meeting. When I had a quiet moment between cleaning tables and polishing cocktail glasses, I slipped upstairs to join him in the projection room that doubled as my office for Movie Reel Investigations.
I ran my finger over the shiny new sign on the door and felt a wistful pang in my stomach. Setting up as a private investigator was a risk. If the business failed, I had no reason to stay on Whisper Island. Over the last few months, it had become abundantly clear to me that this wasn’t a vacation or a temporary stay. I’d never felt as at home as I did on the island, and I was determined to make a life here.
