Sirena smiled sweetly at Morgan and agreed. “Anything to help get to the bottom of all this. Hop on, girls. I’ll take good care of you.”
June helped me onto the back seat of Sirena’s golf cart where we mutely stared at the receding scene as it disappeared under a soft gray blanket of smoke. Numb with shock, neither of us spoke a word during the short trip to the Jewel of the Bay boutique. My shin was throbbing and my mind was reeling with everything Detective Morgan had just told me. None of this could really be happening.
Sirena parked the golf cart on the side drive, walked around to where we still sat motionless on the bench seat, and held out both her hands.
“Come with me, dears. I’ll get you settled.” Her voice was warm and soothing like whiskey and honey on a sore throat.
She took one of each of our hands in hers and gently escorted us through the shop door into the cozy sitting area near the back of the store. Two pretty chairs upholstered in watercolor shades were arranged at forty-five degree angles around a coffee table made from local driftwood. As soon as we were seated, Sirena swept through the doorway covered by pearlescent curtains that I had assumed was a storeroom the first time we visited the boutique. That seemed like years ago. A short while later, she reappeared, carrying a silver tray with warm towels and chilled white wine in laser-etched goblets. She set the tray down on the varnished table top between us and sat quietly in a third chair, this one a straight-back piece painted a rich emerald green and positioned directly across from us. Sirena looked like she was holding court, posture perfect, hands folded serenely in her lap.
I picked up one of the soft, white towels and dabbed absently at my shin through the torn fabric of my pant leg. The wound was not as nasty as I had anticipated, and after I wiped away the dried blood and extracted the splinter, it instantly felt better. “Ouch!” I gingerly touched my face and winced when I felt the pinch and tug of stage adhesive below my nose. What a sight we must be! Our disguises seemed beyond ridiculous now. How could we explain our get-ups to Sirena without sounding like certifiable idiots? Why did we ever think we could pull off our ludicrous plan?
Rather than cleaning up, June chose to concentrate on the wine. She held the cool goblet to her forehead with both her hands for a moment, then lowered it to her lips and tilted her head back. When she set the fancy glass back on the tray, it had a little brown swish of a mustache stuck to its rim. We were two ugly ducklings in the royal pond being attended to by the princess swan. Sitting there in that beautiful room surrounded by lovely things, we looked at one another and finally broke out of our state of shocked stupidity. Neither of us was to the point yet of laughing at our foibles, but we were making progress. June turned her gaze to Sirena, who was still sitting peacefully in the chair across from us.
“How can we begin to thank you for everything? You’ve done so much for us and we hardly even know you. I can’t even imagine what you must be thinking! Let me explain.”
“There’s no need to explain, June. I’ve learned since coming here that what goes around comes around. It’s important for all of us to keep an eye on one another.”
“Well then, let me thank you again. The wine was just perfect. Exactly what I needed. In fact, I’d swear it’s my favorite Pinot Grigio, Ecco Domani.”
Sirena stood up and made a quick trip back to her storeroom. She returned with an open bottle of Ecco Domani.
“Let’s toast then.” She refilled June’s glass, and poured one for herself. We all raised our glasses and said, “Ecco Domani! Here’s tomorrow!”
Those two little words would be remembered for a very long time.
I raised my glass with both of my shaky hands and took a sip. The cool wine tickled the back of my throat and snapped me out of the debilitating funk that had me on autopilot since I first heard the news about Hamm.
“Sirena, can I bother you for one more thing? May I borrow your cell phone? I lost mine somewhere back in all the confusion. It’s probably a pile of ashes by now.”
“Of, course, Francie. Anything I can do to help.”
She pulled her phone from a deep pocket in her long skirt and handed it to me. I took a deep breath and composed myself. I needed to be calm. I needed to talk to Hamm. I needed to find out what was going on.
I pressed the button at the bottom of the phone to activate it and then followed the familiar cue, “slide to unlock.” I swiped my finger across the screen and was ready to place my call. When I hit the green phone icon at the bottom of the screen it pulled up the last screen used. It happened to be “Recent Calls,” and at the top of the list was a very familiar number. In fact, it was Hamm’s cell phone number.
“What the…?” I looked up at Sirena who was still standing in the middle of the room. “Sirena, why do you have my husband’s personal number in your phone? Or better yet, when and why did you dial this number?”
I didn’t want to seem rude after everything she’d done to help us, but I really needed to know. This day was getting weirder by the minute.
Sirena laughed lightly, then reassured me.
“After we all met, I asked Clifton for all your contact numbers. As a businesswoman, this is just standard operating procedure. I thought if I got any new merchandise that would help June with her research or got something I thought one of you might like, I could give you or your husband a call. Men are always so clueless when it comes to gift buying. And I understand your husband is not much of a shopper.”
When she said this, my brain was flooded once again with all of the awful insinuations flying around about Hammond. How could I possibly help him? I knew in my heart that he was absolutely innocent, but I had no idea where he was or how to find him. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling all that thankful or trusting toward Sirena or anyone else for that matter. Instinctively, I put a smile on my face and directed my comment to Sirena.
“Sounds reasonable, I guess. It would be actually pretty nice if someone gave him a heads up once in a while. Sometimes I get tired of picking out and purchasing my own birthday and anniversary gifts. Thanks for letting me use your phone and for everything else.”
I lowered my voice, turned my face away, and dialed my call.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I tried Hamm’s cell phone first. It went right to voicemail, and when I tried to leave a message, I was informed by that ever-annoying voice that the mailbox was full.
Next I tried our home phone in case, for some reason, he was there. Maybe he didn’t feel well. Maybe, maybe, maybe. This time the voice that answered was my own. I didn’t bother to listen to the cheery greeting since I didn’t really expect to reach him there. I disconnected call number two.
I saved his office for last. I felt that if he were anywhere, this would be the place. His assistant, Liz, answered on the second ring. I wasn’t surprised she was in the office, even though it was the holiday weekend; she was young, ambitious, and worked crazy hours because she chose to, not because she was required to.
“I haven’t seen him since last Thursday, Francie. He hasn’t returned my calls, and he’s due in court early tomorrow morning. There’s a lot on his agenda right now, and I was hoping to hear from him.”
I heard the snap of her gum before she continued. “Quite frankly, I’m getting concerned. This isn’t like Mr. Egge. He usually checks in several times a day when he’s out of the office.”
I knew that! I needed to scream and pound on something, but instead I politely thanked Liz, disconnected the call, and handed Sirena’s phone back to her without a word. I didn’t know what to think about any of this.
June immediately picked up on the fear and tension in my face. “Sweetie, Hamm’s probably running all over town, getting all his work done. You know how he is when he gets focused on something.”
Sirena chimed in. “Yes. I bet he’s at the courthouse or somewhere preparing for his case. He’ll call you back as soon as he can.”
What could I do? Absolutely nothing, so I sipped on my wine.
The front door swung open just then, and in strode Detective Jack Morgan. The stern look on his face did not bode well. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take, but I needed answers. June and I exchanged quick glances and, at the same time, began firing questions at Morgan.
“Did you find the guy who started the fire?”
“Do you know why he was trying to kill us?”
“Have you found Hamm?”
“Where are Ruby and Roger?”
“Do they know the person who was found in the store?”
“What about the fake merchandise?”
“Did you see my cell phone?”
He never even blinked. When we were finally finished barraging him with questions, he spoke in a calm, measured voice. “Ladies, listen to me. Really listen. What I need from both of you is one thing and one thing only. For me to make any progress on any of this, I need for the two of you to get back to Beacon Pointe and stay there. I don’t care if you stay at the condo or one of your boats, just stay put. I’ll be in touch. Call me if you see or hear from Hammond. Other than that, stay put and let me do my job. I’ll come by tomorrow to get complete statements. Until then, don’t talk to anyone else, and most importantly, don’t go anywhere.
“Sirena, I’d like for you to stick close to home as well. I have a few questions for you too. But first, can you give these two a lift back to Cozy Cove so they can get in their little boat and head home? And I do mean straight home.”
Sirena’s lovely composed face crinkled into a look I could not decipher, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. “Of course I’ll take them back, Jack.”
“Thank you, Sirena. I appreciate your cooperation and assistance.”
“Well then, whenever you’re ready, I’ll give you girls a lift back in my golf cart.”
I was feeling utterly drained and wanted to splash some water on my face. “Just let me make a quick pit stop before we get on our way.”
“Not a problem,” Sirena replied. “I’ll be right outside. Take your time.”
Once inside the tiny elegant powder room meant for clients, I turned on the faucet and cupped my hands under the cool water. When I straightened and reached for the fluffy white towel hanging on a silver ring beside the sink, I couldn’t help but see my reflection in the mirror. It took me by surprise. Staring back at me was the face of my teenage son. Dressed like a grocery deliveryman. I made a mental note to advise Ben not to grow a mustache. I finished up in a hurry, wiped the last of the mustache and adhesive off my face, and hoped I hadn’t permanently damaged Sirena’s pretty guest towel. Oh, well. At this point, that was the least of my worries.
Sirena and June were waiting for me outside in her company golf cart. I hopped once again on the rear-facing bench seat next to June, and Sirena put the cart in reverse, turned around in the gravel lot, and headed down the road toward the lake. The ride back to the dock took less than five minutes.
“Here we are,” Sirena announced, stopping the vehicle in the small lot of Cozy Cove. June and I hopped off the golf cart and headed toward Lynn’s jet boat, which was bobbing invitingly at the dock.
“June?” We both turned around. Sirena had followed us down the short dock.
Her arm was outstretched, and in her hand was a small gift bag.
“It’s not much,” she explained, “but maybe it will help relax you later. It’s just two samples of my calming lavender-vanilla glycerin soap that I make for my special customers. My own secret formula.” She smiled sweetly.
June accepted the gift with profuse thanks for all of her kindness. She was about to wrap her arms around Sirena in a no-holds-barred gesture of June-style appreciation, but just then, our new friend took a slight step back and clasped her hands behind her back.
“Safe journey!” she called brightly to us as we pulled away from the dock.
“Wow! She thinks of everything, doesn’t she?” June took one of the artfully wrapped bars of soap out of the bag and held it up to my nose so I could keep both hands on the steering wheel.
I inhaled its rich scent and agreed with June’s assessment.
“She does indeed. She does indeed.”
“I wonder if that list of ingredients you found is stuff she uses to make her soap. I think glycerin was on it, and she said one of the things the soap was made of was glycerin. There weren’t that many other things on the list, even though I’ve never heard of a few of them. If we could figure out the rest of the ingredients, I bet we could make some really nice-smelling soaps to give out for Christmas gifts. We’ll have to ask her about it.”
“Mmmmhhh.” I was having a hard time envisioning craft time, sitting around the dining room table making fancy soap for Christmas presents when everything was currently so out of control.
I eased out of the slip and set our compass heading in a straight line back to Beacon Pointe. The water was calm and the sun was bright in the sky. It could have been a typical summer day, except of course, for our outfits and the fact that someone kept trying to kill us. I looked back to the island, thinking I’d give Sirena a wave and a toot of the boat’s horn in a final gesture of thanks.
A soft breeze lifted Sirena’s coppery curls off the back of her neck as she drove her golf cart up the gentle incline leading back to her shop. She wouldn’t have been able to see us wave, so June and I just watched her receding figure as it faded out of our view. She really had the ethereal look of a mythical mermaid.
Then the smoke returned. Sirena was being swallowed up by an angry cloud of black smoke. In a matter of seconds, she and her vehicle were completely obliterated from our view. Before either of us had time to speak, our senses were assaulted a second time, but this time it was an ear-splitting explosion. I throttled the jet boat forcefully into neutral, then into reverse, in a futile attempt to point my way back to the entrance of the port, but it was no use. By the time I got close enough to re-enter the small port, police and fire rescue vessels were already descending on the scene. It’s a small island, and news spreads faster than warm butter on a biscuit around here. The only thing left to do was to turn back once again and continue our journey back toward the relative safety of our home port. I couldn’t imagine what Jack would do if we showed up at the scene of another fire.
June’s eyes grew wide. “What’s happening? More smoke and fire. It seems like it’s following us, trying to choke or swallow us everywhere we go.”
“I don’t know. I feel like I’m stuck in a bad script and all the writers are on strike. No one is safe from the devious plans of this mysterious miscreant. What if Sirena’s hurt? I would never be able to live with the guilt, wondering if we were the actual targets all along.”
“I hate to admit it, Francie, but we kind of suck at this whole investigating thing. Maybe Morgan was right. Maybe we should lock ourselves behind closed doors until this is all over.”
“But we can’t just sit back and let this maniac carry on. We don’t even know why he wants us dead. He must have seen you the day after the fire at Ruby’s when he was talking to Roger. I guess you were right to be suspicious, but now we just have to keep trying to prove that this man is setting fire to everything in his path in order to cover his knock-off selling ass. We can’t let him hurt anyone else close to us.”
“I’m going to try calling Sirena. I can’t take not knowing what happened. I don’t want to hear about it on the six o’clock news.”
June retrieved her cell phone, which had miraculously survived the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, her expensive camera containing all the pictures she took of the evidence to support our theories had been destroyed. It seemed like we were right back to square one.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I watched helplessly as June tried repea
tedly to get a connection through to Sirena. Everything was so surreal. It was the kind of day you dreamed about all winter long during Ohio’s endless weeks of frigid temperatures and drifting snow. The early-summer sun warmed our faces and shoulders and made the calm waters of Lake Erie sparkle. For a moment, it was possible to forget the sight of that black cloud lingering along a section of the shoreline. The casual observer wouldn’t think twice about it. It could very well have been someone’s first attempt at a summer barbecue. We knew, however, that it represented an attempt of a very different kind.
I continued steering our small boat slowly toward our home port as June disconnected the failed call one last time and tossed her phone on the floor of the boat in frustration.
“It went straight to voicemail.”
“I’m sure she’s okay. We’ll hear from her soon enough.”
“I hope you’re right. I have so many questions and no answers in sight. Do you think that the golf cart explosion was aimed at us? I mean, we were riding on it just minutes before Sirena took off.”
“I don’t know. This cloak-and-dagger stuff isn’t at all fun in real life. I’m just glad we are off of that island and almost safely back to the marina.”
Weekend boaters were all around us. June looked at all the happy people on the water taking advantage of the long Memorial Day holiday. There would be plenty of sunburned shoulders and noses tonight, but chances are, not too many people would be complaining.
“I bet we’re going to be the only ones around here tonight sifting through clues, trying to figure out the who and why of all these attempts at burning us down, blowing us up, or drowning us.”
I had to agree. “The only thing we have to be thankful for at this point is that the person responsible for our trouble seems to be even more inept than us at carrying out his plans.”
For a while things got quiet. Not feeling the need for any more excitement, I kept my speed to a minimum, deep in thought, replaying all of the disconnected events from the past twenty-four hours and trying to fit together some of the many puzzle pieces that somehow must interlock to explain the big picture: the tragic fire at Ruby’s, the horrific discovery of the unknown homicide victim in the attic, the stranger, and the second fire at the warehouse—and then there was the fact both June and Michael had both turned up unconscious on the beach and not least of all, Hamm’s inexplicable absence. Something sinister was going on, but what was it? And how did we all fit into the mix? Were we just unwilling participants in a heinous scheme or was there something more personal going on here?
Sunny Side Up (Lake Erie Mysteries Book 1) Page 16
