by Kathi Daley
“No.” Georgia shook her head. “Carson is a lot taller than Alvin, and the man in the photo with Alvin looks to be shorter and slightly heavier than he is. Of course, I suppose the image could be distorted due to the distance and terrain. Still, I don’t think it’s Carson. Not Mike either. He’s even taller than Carson.”
“Jordan is slightly taller than Alvin, so I suppose it could be him, but somehow I just don’t think so.” Georgia picked up another photo. This one featured Carson, Mike, and Jordan, standing in a circle on the back porch. “This photo was taken at the back of the house at about the same time of day.” She pointed out. “See, the exterior lights are just coming on.”
“I do remember the women gathering on the front porch and the men on the back. Based on these photos, Carson, Mike, Jordan, Fiona, Ambrosia, Jennifer, and Naomi are accounted for. There’s also an unknown photographer who must have been Lisa, Willa, or Stephanie. That leaves Alvin and two of the three aforementioned women as unaccounted for. If that is Alvin in the background, could the person he’s talking to be one of the women?”
“No. The person with Alvin is definitely male. Look how short the hair is. Plus, all the women had dresses on that evening, and this person has slacks and a jacket.”
“I suppose we can ask Fiona about the photo when the group returns. She most likely remembers who the photographer was and where the other two women might have been at the time. Let’s set these photos aside.”
Georgia and I continued to sift through the photos, picking out those we found the most interesting. I figured once the group arrived, I’d pull Carson and Fiona aside and see what they thought about the story it appeared was beginning to unfold.
Chapter 14
I showed Fiona the photo Georgia and I had been looking at, and she confirmed that the man speaking to Alvin was Caspar. “I had no idea Caspar was here on Thursday. I certainly never saw him, and no one else mentioned seeing him. He must have shown up, chatted with Alvin for whatever reason, and then left.”
“Do you have any idea why Caspar would have wanted to chat face to face with Alvin?” I asked.
“None,” Fiona insisted. “I didn’t know they even knew each other, although Lisa has been taking Alvin to the club, and Caspar is a member, so I suppose they might have met there.”
“Or at one of the parties Alvin had Lisa get them invites to,” Carson added.
She nodded. “Yes, that’s a possibility as well. Alvin and Lisa have been making the rounds since they got together.”
“And how is Caspar related to you?” I asked.
“He’s not related. At least not by blood. My grandfather and Caspar’s grandfather were best friends who got their families together often. My father was and is good friends with Caspar’s older brother, Cedrick, so Cedrick and his family were always around when I was growing up. Cedrick is like an uncle to my sisters and me. In many ways, he was around more than my actual uncle, Frederick, was. Being so much younger than my father, I can’t say that the two have always gotten along.”
“I remember hearing that Frederick was fifteen years younger than your father.”
She nodded. “Yes. That is correct. My dad went off to college when Frederick was just three. He was a grown man when Frederick was still a child. The two really didn’t share a childhood as most brothers do.”
“And Caspar?” I asked.
She shrugged. “He’s close in age to Frederick. I think he’s a few years older, but he is much closer to Frederick in age than my father is. As I said before, Cedrick was around a lot when I was a child, and I remember that Caspar was around for big events. I always thought of him as the weird uncle the family had inherited due to his shared history with my father’s best friend. I didn’t invite either Caspar or Frederick to come this weekend, they simply made their own reservations in town and announced that they planned to attend the formal dinner. It almost seems as if they came up with the idea together, although I’d be surprised if they did. They are close in age, but they never really got along all that well.”
“Do you think Caspar meeting with Alvin on Thursday night had anything to do with his death?” Carson asked.
“I don’t know. Can you think of a reason that Caspar might have wanted to kill Alvin?” I asked.
“Caspar didn’t kill Alvin,” Fiona said. “He’s a weak squeamish man. Not that he couldn’t have hired someone to do the deed if he wanted Alvin dead, but I don’t see him as the actual killer.” She looked at the photo in her hand. “Still, it is odd that he was here that night. I wonder what he and Alvin were talking about.”
“Maybe they had a professional relationship,” Georgia spoke for the first time. “Alvin did work on Wall Street, and Caspar does have money.”
Fiona wrinkled her nose. “I guess that might be it. Alvin could be very persuasive. He tried really hard to get me to agree to let him invest my money, but I told him no. Caspar, however, is a glutton for attention, and if you compliment him on his shoes, he’ll give you anything you ask for. I can see that it might be possible that Alvin was able to flatter Caspar into investing with him.”
“Do you know who took this photo?” Georgia asked.
“Stephanie. Lisa said she had a phone call to make and headed up to her room, so she didn’t join us on the porch. I’m not sure where Willa was. I guess she might have been in her suite as well.”
“Actually, she was in the back with the guys,” Carson said. “I’m not sure she’s totally comfortable with all the new people in my life.”
“I get it,” Fiona said. “She’s comfortable with you and Mike. I get why she would want to hang out with you.”
Fiona picked up a stack of photos and began looking through them. I could see her frown deepen as she shuffled through the stack. “I just can’t believe Caspar was actually here on Thursday, and I had no idea.” She looked at me. “It seems he must have been here for only a few minutes. I suppose he could have had a car up on the road. If he does have something to do with Alvin’s death, how do we prove that?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll talk to Colt about it when he arrives. It seems clear the killer is trying to set Naomi up. How do Caspar and Naomi get along?”
Fiona laughed. “Naomi gets along with him okay. Caspar seems drawn to her and she is kind to him in return. To be honest, he isn’t my favorite person, but I do tolerate him. He can be pushy and opinionated, and he really does tell the worse jokes, but like it or not, he’s bonded to us in much the same way as the ugly chandelier in the ballroom mother wants to get rid of, but dad insists must stay.”
“I guess there are just some things and some people you inherit simply because you are a member of the family you were born into,” Georgia said.
“Exactly,” Fiona agreed. “Especially if you’re a member of a family like mine, where tradition is such a huge part of who we are and how we get through the day.”
Carson picked up a photo and looked at it closely. It was a photo of him and Fiona, Mike, and Ambrosia at the dining table. “I remember this. Naomi took this photo just a few minutes before we decided to go up to our suites. Since she used her phone to take the photo, I know she had it in her possession at the time. You said that someone used Naomi’s phone to call Alvin at two-fifteen. This is around one. I guess if you want the exact time, you can look at the date and time stamp on her phone.”
“So if she was taking photos late into the evening, we might be able to narrow the timeline down a bit in determining when she lost it, or someone stole it,” I realized.
“We just need to ask her for her phone and then look at the photos and see what time she stopped taking them,” Fiona said. “I’ll go and get her phone.”
“Maybe we should wait for Colt. He’ll be here at any moment, and I’ve probably already overstepped by talking to the two of you without him being here.”
“We were willing to speak to you. You didn’t strong-arm us. I think we’re fine,” Carson said.
“Someone killed
one of my guests and is trying to frame my baby sister, I want to find out who that someone is,” Fiona jumped in.
I had to admit that was the first time she’d demonstrated any real anger about the situation. Maybe everyone wasn’t as cold and unfeeling as it initially seemed.
Fiona went upstairs to look for Naomi, so I headed into the kitchen to check in with Georgia. She looked to have everything handled, but I liked to help when I could.
“I seem to be out of thyme,” Georgia said. “I have some in the cottage. Would you mind running over and grabbing it?”
“No problem.”
I headed out the kitchen door and toward the cottage. As I walked along the path connecting the two structures, I noticed Willa sitting alone on the patio. She looked to be deep in thought, and I hated to disturb her, but my instinct told me it might be a good idea to find out what was on her mind. I ran and got the thyme for Georgia and then took it back to the kitchen in the inn before heading outside once again to speak to Carson’s sister.
“Beautiful evening.”
She looked up, lifting just one corner of her mouth. “It is beautiful. You’re lucky to live here. It is so peaceful and serene.”
“I enjoy it quite a lot. If you come out here late in the evening, all you can hear is the sound of the waves hitting the rocks at the bottom of the bluff. No traffic, no sirens in the distance, no arguing from the neighbors, just waves.”
“Sounds nice.” She smiled. “Of course, the quiet would probably make me nuts. I guess having lived in a big city all my life, I’m used to the sounds of the city and would feel lost without them.”
“I understand that. I was that way at first as well, but once you get used to the quiet, there is nothing like it.”
“Where did you live before here?” Willa asked.
“San Francisco.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Wow. You moved clear across the country. That must have been quite the decision.”
I let out a long slow breath. “My husband and infant son were killed in an auto accident. I felt as if I needed a change. A big change. I needed to reinvent who I was and how I fit in the world. Don’t get me wrong, I was terrified, but I knew in my heart that leaving my old life behind was the best thing for me, so I bought this estate and built a new life.”
“I’m so sorry about your family,” she said.
I sat down on the bench next to her. “I’ve lived through some pretty dark times, but I’m happy now. Not that I wouldn’t change things if I could, but at some point, you have to let go of your ideas relating to how things should have been and open yourself up to how things might be in the future.”
“You seem to have good friends.”
“The best,” I agreed.
“And Police Chief Wilder? He is a close friend?” she asked.
“Very close.”
She stared at the sea. She looked conflicted, and I could see that she was struggling with a decision. “You know something you haven’t told him.”
She nodded.
“You can be honest with him,” I said. “Colt is a good man. He’s not out to simply find a killer, any killer, so he can wrap up the case, as some cops do. He really does want to find the truth.”
She turned slightly and looked at me. “When Carson first met Fiona, I didn’t like her much. Of course, I came to that decision before getting to know her, but I couldn’t see how my mechanic brother would ever fit into her fancy life. I was sure she was going to hurt him and even tried to talk him out of seeing her, but he was smitten, and I could see that nothing I said was going to change his mind, so I decided to approach the situation from another angle.”
“Another angle?”
“I decided to befriend Fiona. Really get to know her. I was sure that once she let her guard down, I would find all sorts of dirty laundry I could use to convince my brother that it was best to stick to women who shared a history similar to ours.”
“Did you find any dirty laundry?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. What I found was a kind, compassionate woman who worked hard, built a business, supported charities with both her time and money and really did seem to adore my brother. What I found was the sister I never had.”
“So, Fiona is important to you?”
“Very important,” she confirmed. “And she is the world to my brother.”
I felt the tension in my stomach. “Do you know something about Fiona? Something you feel like you should tell, but are afraid to?”
She bowed her head, seeming to stare at her clutched hands. “No. Not Fiona. But Naomi.”
“Go on,” I encouraged.
She looked up, and I could see the hesitation on her face.
“No one is out to hurt either Fiona or Naomi,” I assured her. “We’re just looking for the truth.”
She blew out a long breath. “On that first night here, I passed out in the chair downstairs. I didn’t even drink all that much, but I don’t drink often and tend to be a lightweight. I don’t remember everything that happened, but I do remember waking up fully dressed, minus my shoes, in my bed. I later learned that Mike carried me up.”
I waited for her to get to the point. So far, everything she’d said was common knowledge.
“People just assumed I didn’t wake until morning, and I didn’t correct them, but I did wake once before that. At the time I wasn’t sure exactly what time it was. The room was totally dark, so I suspected it was late. My head was pounding, and I felt very nauseated, but I think the thing that woke me was Naomi on the phone. She was talking softly, but I could hear her end of the conversation.” Willa looked at me. “She was talking to Alvin. I know this because she called him by name.”
“What did she say exactly?”
“She said, ‘Alvin, so help me God, if you say one word to her, I’ll kill you.’”
My hand flew to my throat. I really had hoped Naomi was being set up and wasn’t, in fact, the killer. This was going to kill Fiona. “What else did you see and hear?”
“Not a lot. She lowered her voice, said a few more things, and then she left the room. I turned and looked at the clock once she left. It was two-twenty.” She swiped at a tear that trailed down her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I really didn’t lie to your friend. I simply didn’t volunteer anything he didn’t ask about or correct his assumptions even when they were wrong. I knew I should tell what I knew, but I love Fiona. Carson loves Fiona. If Naomi killed Alvin, it will kill her.”
“I know, and I understand.” I pulled Willa into my arms and hugged her while she wept.
I texted Colt, who was just turning onto the road leading out to the inn from the highway, and I told him to meet me on the back porch before he spoke to anyone else. When he arrived, Willa and I filled him in. Once Willa told him everything she knew, Colt went inside and asked to speak to Naomi.
“What’s going on?” Fiona asked me. She was in the kitchen with Georgia and me while the rest of the gang was in the other room having a pre-dinner drink.
“I’m not sure,” I hedged. “Colt has some new information.”
“Something strange is going on,” Fiona said. “I asked Naomi for her phone, so we could look at the photos, and she said she’d already deleted all of them. Why would she delete them? I guess if her memory was getting full, she might thin them out but delete all of them?”
“Maybe she deleted them by accident,” I said, all the while thinking that it was more likely she simply didn’t want her sister to take her phone where she might find something else.
Based on what Willa told me, it did sound like Naomi might have killed Alvin, but the part of the story that didn’t make sense if Naomi was the killer, was the syringe in her trashcan. Why on earth would she sneak in while everyone was at the resort to place the murder weapon in her own trashcan where someone was likely to find it? It made no sense that she would be trying to set herself up. There must be more to the story.
Colt and Naomi we
re in the parlor for what seemed to be a really long time. Eventually, Naomi came out, and Colt called Fiona and Carson in. I could see that Naomi had been crying, but I could also see that she was at least attempting to put on a brave face. Lisa hurried over and asked her what had happened, but Naomi just pushed past her and headed upstairs. I had no reason to believe she’d talk to me, but I headed upstairs anyway.
“Naomi,” I called out, knocking on the door. “It’s Abby. Can I come in?”
I was totally expecting her to tell me to go away, but she didn’t. Instead, she opened the door and stepped aside for me to enter.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. “I know about the phone call.”
She sat down on the edge of her bed. “I know I should have fessed up to the call instead of telling Police Chief Wilder that my phone had been left downstairs, and I hadn’t found it until the next morning, but I was terrified. I’m still terrified.” She began to sob.
I sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “What’s going on? What happened? Why are you terrified?” I figured if she’d admitted killing Alvin, she’d be in handcuffs and not sitting in her suite sobbing, so there must be more to the story.
“Alvin was blackmailing me,” she said.
“Blackmailing you?”
“He knew about something that happened to me that he used to persuade me to do him certain favors.”
“Okay, maybe we should back up a bit. What did you do that Alvin found out about?” I wasn’t sure why she was talking to me. She didn’t know me, but maybe the fact that we weren’t friends, made it easier for her to bare her soul.
“You know that Fiona is a clothing designer?”
“Yes. I do know that. I understand she’s doing quite well.”
“She is, despite me, doing fantastic.”
“Despite you?” I could see that I was going to need to drag Naomi’s story out of her if I wanted the details.
“The winter before last, just a few weeks before fashion week, I was on one of my binges, and I found myself in a compromising situation.”
