The Inn at Holiday Bay: Haunting in the Hallway

by Kathi Daley

  “Did Ben say whether he had developed a theory about why Steven might have done it?”

  “Not that he mentioned to me,” Sarah answered. “I’ve gone over the facts in my head hundreds of times since he and I spoke, but I can’t understand any of it.”

  I realized that the main reason I was interested in this case was because I believed that Frank Ribaldie had been partnered with Steven at the time of his death, but if he’d already transferred to narcotics, it seemed that the fact that his name had come up in association with the death of the police officer in the alley was probably a random fact without any real meaning. Sarah didn’t seem to know anything more about the case than I already did, so I decided to change the subject. I was about to ask about her visit to Maine when it occurred to me that the movement of the car Steven had been driving had most likely been tracked. I made a mental note to ask Colt about that. I wondered if Steven had made a direct trip from the scene of the kidnapping, where he was supposed to be canvassing the neighbors, to the alley where he’d died, or if he had stopped off somewhere along the way.

  “You know,” Sarah said before I had the chance to offer an alternate topic, “Detective Sullivan did say something that stuck in my mind. I’m not sure it is relevant—he was, after all, at my home to interview me, not to share his own thoughts and feelings, but he did ask about another incident that had occurred earlier in the year.”

  “And what incident was that?” I asked as Kim set our plates in front of us.

  “It was back when Steven was still partnered with Frank. They’d responded to a domestic disturbance call that resulted in the deaths of two men, both of them high-ranking gang members. Frank, who had gone around to the back of the house while Steven prepared to enter from the front, admitted to shooting the two men, who he’d run into out by the pool, but he claimed that he had done so in self-defense. Steven hadn’t seen what happened because he was on the other side of the house at the time, but he did say that he’d only heard two shots. The two shots Frank fired resulted in the deaths of the two gang members. He told the investigators that the men had drawn their guns, and the SFPD verified that unfired guns were found near their bodies, but Detective Sullivan thought it was odd that Frank was able to kill both men before either was able to get off a shot.”

  “Yes, that does seem questionable.”

  “Add that to the fact that the victims were both wearing swim attire, and the whole thing seems even hinkier. The incident was a hot topic in the news, and Steven backed up his partner to the end, but I could see that he was bothered by whatever had happened that night. Detective Sullivan wondered if Steven had ever discussed the specifics with me, but he hadn’t. I told him as much, and while it might not be connected with Steven’s death, I can’t help wondering if something occurred that night that no one other than Frank and Steven knew about.”

  “If things had happened differently from what Frank claimed they had, and Steven knew the truth, do you think he would have lied for him?”

  Sarah scrunched up her face. “I don’t know. Maybe. Steven was a good guy, but he was a loyal guy too. I guess that if push came to shove, Steven might have covered for Frank even if he lied about the gang members being the first to pull their weapons.”

  The IA investigation involving Ben, Frank, and two others had had something to do with accepting bribes in exchange for looking the other way when it came to illegal activities by high-ranking gang members. In this case, two high-ranking gang members had died, and Frank had told investigators that they had guns drawn on him. Given the fact that he got two shots off while neither of the gang members had gotten off a single shot made this scenario unlikely to be true. This, I decided, was something it would be worthwhile to bring to Colt’s attention.

  I chatted with Sarah about other things as we finished our meal. I wanted her to leave our lunch with the same enthusiastic vigor she had brought to the diner. She was, after all, here on vacation, and I didn’t want to dispel the joy she seemed to be deriving from her experiences in my neck of the woods. She asked me to let her know if I decided to hold any book signings or author events on the West Coast, and I promised to do so. I paid for lunch, we said our goodbyes, and I headed down the street toward Colt’s office. It was a lovely fall day, perfect for walking the two blocks between Velma’s Café and the police station. I’d been so busy at the inn that I hadn’t taken the time to enjoy the Halloween décor the town was displaying. When I’d first moved to Holiday Bay, I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy the holiday themes as they played out in the extreme every month of the year, but as I strolled along the main thoroughfare with the orange lights in the trees, ghosts and skeletons hanging from doorways, and window displays too amazing to describe, I felt a warmth and connection I hadn’t experienced while living in California. The town would be hosting special events during the entire month of October, and I planned to attend as many of them as I could find the time for between the ones we’d be hosting at the inn and my fairly demanding writing schedule.

  Thankfully, Colt was in when I arrived. I wished he wasn’t busy because that would have made me feel better about taking up his time, but the truth of the matter was, he looked swamped. His desk was piled so high with stacks of notes, file folders, and photos, that I could barely see him on the other side once I sat down across from him.

  “It looks like you’ve collected a lot of data.”

  Colt drew his lips in tight. “Wesley Hamilton was a high-profile guy, making his murder case high profile too. I’ve been working almost around the clock trying to get a solid lead, but so far every time I think I’m on to something, it turns out that I’m not.”

  “How are you doing on the five suspects we discussed yesterday?”

  “I’ve managed to clear three of the five, but I’ve added six more. Hamilton was last seen in the bank’s parking lot walking toward his car, but I have no way of knowing if he was kidnapped and killed immediately or if he went somewhere willingly and was killed later.”

  “Was his car still in the lot?”

  “It was. And that seems to indicate that his captor grabbed him as he was walking toward it, or perhaps just after he entered it. I had one witness who was driving past and saw Wesley standing on the side of the road at the back of the lot where his car was parked talking to someone through the window of another vehicle. I suppose it is possible that he might have willingly left with whoever that was for some reason, although it doesn’t explain why he just left his car in the lot.”

  “It sounds like he was probably forced to leave with whoever he was speaking to. Do you have a description of the car?”

  “Dark. Either black or dark blue. Four door. The witness didn’t note the make, model, or license number because, as she pointed out, she didn’t have any reason to think there was anything odd about the exchange at the time. I showed her photos of car models, and she thinks it might have been a Ford, or possibly a Toyota but she still isn’t sure. So far, I haven’t found anyone else who will admit to having seen Wesley in the parking lot, but I’m going to keep looking. In the meantime, I am going through financial and phone records, and the statements of those individuals I’ve identified as being the most hurt by Wesley’s new policies regarding late payments.”

  I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. “Other than Kendall, have you identified anyone from his personal life you consider to be a suspect?”

  “Just one. Ashton Fitzgerald. Ashton was Wesley’s best friend all through childhood and beyond. Ashton moved to Boston about three years ago, but I seem to remember that the two of them had a falling out that was what prompted the move in the first place. I don’t have any evidence that Ashton killed Wesley or that he was even in town at the time of Wesley’s death, but it did occur to me to inquire about the reason for the disagreement after so many years of their being tighter than most brothers.”

  “It sounds like you’ve managed to get yourself a complicated case. If you need to build theory with som
eone, or you just need someone to talk to, feel free to give me a call.”

  “I will. And thank you. How’d your lunch go?”

  I filled Colt in on everything Sarah had told me, adding a few of my own insights and thoughts along the way. “It occurred to me while I was speaking to Sarah that the supposed domestic disturbance call could actually have been Frank providing an excuse to show up at the home of two of the high-ranking gang members he’d been taking bribes from. Maybe they decided they no longer wanted to pay those bribes, or maybe some other agreement between them and Frank went south, so he shot them. Steven was put in the uncomfortable position of either having to rat out his partner or cover for him, and he went with the latter. At least for a while. But what if after a time the secret Steven shared with Frank got to be too much for him? I doubt that Steven saw Frank much after he moved over to narcotics; maybe the separation allowed him to think about things. What if Steven told Frank that he wouldn’t keep his secret any longer?”

  “So Frank killed him, or more likely had him killed.”

  “Exactly. I’m not sure why he chose to have Steven killed while he was on duty. Maybe Steven planned to tell what he knew later that same day, so there was a sense of urgency involved, or maybe Frank wanted to be sure that Steven died when he had an alibi. Naturally, I can’t know what happened yet, but this story I’ve come up with makes sense. Maybe Ben figured it all out when he decided to look into the case. He might even have found the proof he needed but died before he had a chance to tell anyone.”

  “Are you saying that you think Ben’s accident was intentional?”

  Was I? “No. I don’t think Ben’s death was anything more than an accident. According to witness statements, it seemed pretty random. But that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t starting to put the pieces together regarding Frank Ribaldie. Ben hadn’t worked with him long, but it was long enough to form an impression. Perhaps that impression was one of a man who swore to uphold the law but acted outside of it.”

  “Okay. I guess everything you’ve said makes sense, but what do we do with this information? Internal Affairs has already looked into allegations that Frank and the others had been taking bribes and they were all cleared. I doubt it will do you any good to continue down that particular road. If you are going to try to prove that Frank killed Steven, you are going to need a lot more than a theory.”

  “I know.”

  Colt seemed to be thinking things through. Eventually, he spoke again. “I know it seems as if fate had a hand in bringing Sarah Walker into your life. And maybe it has, but that doesn’t mean that it is a good idea to act on what you’ve learned. If something is going on—and I wouldn’t be surprised if that was true—there are powerful forces at play. If Ribaldie shot and killed two high-ranking gang members and more or less got away with it, he may have had his ex-partner killed, but if that is what happened, it seems he got away with that as well, which indicates to me that he has powerful allies.”

  “Like who?”

  “I don’t know, but Frank underwent an IA investigation that seemed to have been shut down before it even got off the ground. If he actually is guilty of something, that fact alone speaks to me of the involvement of someone high up the food chain. You are not a cop, nor do you even live in San Francisco any longer. It is not your responsibility to try to figure out what happened, nor do you have the resources to do so even if you feel you should. And most importantly in my opinion, even if you did manage to figure out exactly what happened and prove it, there is a very good possibility you would be putting your life and perhaps the lives of those you care about at risk.”

  “So I should do nothing? I should just sit on what I know?”

  Colt blew out a breath and then ran a hand through his hair. “No. I’m not saying that exactly. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  “I’m not looking for trouble, but if Ben was concerned enough to look into this, maybe it is my responsibility as his widow to finish what he started.”

  “Ben was a cop. You aren’t. If Ben could tell you how he felt about things, I promise you, he would tell you to leave it alone.”

  I was sure Colt was right. That was what he would say.

  “How about this?” Colt suggested. “I have a buddy in the FBI. If you remember, he has helped me out in the past. I trust him, and he can be discreet. How about I ask him to quietly look into things and then, based on what he finds or fails to find, we can decide on a plan of action from there?”

  What he said sounded reasonable. It wasn’t that I was looking for some big adventure. I certainly had enough to do right here in Maine without worrying about what had happened years ago in San Francisco. Still, right was right, and if Frank was a dirty cop, someone needed to do what it took to prove it.

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll do it your way. For now.”

  Chapter 7

  When I arrived back at the inn, I found the drive occupied by a huge truck carrying hundreds of pumpkins. The idea was to set them out on the lawn to create a faux pumpkin patch. I was pretty sure that Georgia had said the pumpkins weren’t supposed to get here until Friday, but I was equally certain that once they were here, she wasn’t going to send them away. I parked my car and headed toward the truck, where I found Georgia chatting with the driver.

  “The pumpkins are early.”

  “I can see that,” I answered my inn manager. “I don’t suppose it will hurt to have them sitting on the lawn for a couple of extra days.”

  “It won’t, but there are a lot of pumpkins to unload. I’d hoped to have helpers lined up for the delivery, but now it looks like it is just me.”

  I glanced toward the inn. “Maybe we can persuade a few of the guests to help out. Is anyone around?”

  “Jeremy and Annabelle are here, and I imagine that Dixie and Holly will be back shortly.”

  “Okay, then, let’s set out some cider and snacks and make an event of setting up the pumpkin patch. I’m sure at the very least Annabelle will want to help out. I’ll change into work clothes, and then call Nikki and Tanner and Lonnie and Lacy to see if they are free. I might even call Colt, although I was just in his office and he’s pretty busy, so I doubt he’d be able to get here anytime soon.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Georgia said. “We can have a harvest party in reverse. Instead of harvesting the pumpkins from the pumpkin patch, we’ll ‘plant’ them in our makeshift one. I’ll grab some beer and wine to go with the cider, and I have plenty of appetizers in the freezer that I can heat up and set out.”

  In the spirit of turning problems into blessings, the impromptu reverse harvest party turned into a fun-filled afternoon that everyone seemed to enjoy. Jeremy and Annabelle joined in right away, and Dixie and Holly joined us when they came back to the inn at the end of the day. Lonnie and Lacy and their six children showed up just after Nikki and Tanner, and Colt and Velma even made it out to the inn after the work was over, which was a great way to time it.

  It was a lovely evening, so Lonnie started the grills while Georgia made a last-minute change to the evening menu. Lacy, Velma, and I helped her with the sides while Colt and Tanner drank beer and prepared the meat. Dixie, Holly, and Annabelle took charge of Lonnie and Lacy’s six children, creating a maze type game, winding through the pumpkin patch, while Lonnie and Jeremy hung overhead lights to brighten the area.

  I stood on the edge of the patio observing the festivities. The sun had begun to set, and the sound of the waves crashing could be heard in the background. It did my heart good to be part of a family of friends and guests who worked to accomplish a common goal while the children laughed and played. When I lived in San Francisco, it had never occurred to me that there might be a way of life or a place on the planet that might be a better fit for me than the one that had always been my home, but now that I was here in this cozy little community, I felt a sense of belonging much stronger than any familial connection I had experienced in the past. I found myself wishing that Ben
and Jonathan had been able to live here with me. I suspect that Jonathan would have loved the wide, open space and room to run, though Ben would probably have hated the isolation.

  “The yard looks great,” Lacy said as she walked out from the kitchen and came to stand next to me.

  “It really does. I can’t believe we were able to get all those pumpkins set out in just a couple of hours.”

  “It helps to have friends.”

  “Be sure to let your six each pick out one to take with them. It seems fitting that the Parker children are the first to harvest a pumpkin from our patch.”

  Lacy smiled. “I’ll be sure to do that. The lights Lonnie hung have the yard lit up to the point where searching for the best one won’t be a problem.” Lacy glanced to where Rufus was stalking one of the smaller pumpkins. “It looks like the kids won’t be the only ones hunting pumpkins this evening.”

  “Rufus has been fascinated with the decorations. I’ve had to watch him to make sure he doesn’t pull down all the garlands or attack and kill the skeletons we’ve hung. Ramos and Molly seemed somewhat interested at first, but after an introductory sniff, they’ve mostly left the decorations alone. Rufus, however, seems intent on hunting down and destroying every item Georgia has set out.”

  “You may want to close him up in the cottage during the weekend events. I’d hate for something to happen to him. A curious cat has the potential to track down trouble if there is any to find.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I agreed. “We have the pumpkin patch, pumpkin carving, face painting, and a scarecrow decorating contest for the young and young at heart, and wine and music on the lawn for the adults. Although,” I smiled, “I guess you know that because Lonnie’s band is the one playing.” I looked toward the clear sky. “I hope the weather holds. I feel like it has been all over the map this month. One minute it is bright and sunny and the next it is raining and windy. The temperatures vary to the point of being hot one day and cold the next. It really has been crazy weather.”