by Logan, Kylie
Oh, I knew, all right. Even with the gentle lapping of the waves from the lake across the street, the Jimmy Buffett music that bounced out of a nearby bar, and the delighted shouts of a couple of kids playing nearby, I swear I could still hear the sickening sound of the blade as it thunked through the watermelon. If I closed my eyes, I could still see that melon plunk to the stage, its red juice splashed all around.
I shivered and I didn’t even care if Mike saw it. “Where’d you get this thing?” I asked him.
He walked around to the other side of the ice cream cart and opened the lid of the compartment where the frozen goodies were kept. “It was taped inside here,” he said, and he stuck his hand to the right of the opening of the compartment and knocked against the top of the cart from the inside. “That’s why I didn’t see it before. I was cleaning the cart last night, and that’s when I found it.”
It’s not that I didn’t believe him; I’m just the kind of person who likes to verify this sort of thing for myself. And Mike didn’t look especially inclined to back off so I could get close to the cart.
Good thing I’m small and agile.
I slipped between Mike and the ice cream cart and, following his lead, I stuck my arm into the freezer box and felt along what I guess I would call the ceiling of the inside of the cart. Slowly, I let my fingers work their way over the dimensions of a single sheet of paper, each side tacked down with tape that had left a tacky residue. Stuck up here the way it was, there was no way anyone would have ever seen the guillotine schematic.
“It’s the perfect hiding place,” I told Mike. “Richie wouldn’t have had to worry that anyone was going to see it or—”
My fingers brushed over another sticky spot, and at the same time I wondered if my original theory was wrong and whatever had been taped in there was some weird size that wasn’t the shape of a piece of paper. I again traced the outline of what must once have been attached there. No, I hadn’t been wrong. There was one outline for the schematic, and a second one just to the right of it. This one wasn’t nearly as big as the first. It was small and rectangular, and even if I hadn’t seen Mike’s face go ashen I would have asked, “What else was in here?”
“Nothing.”
Good thing I can move pretty quick because I pulled my arm out of the freezer compartment just a nanosecond before he smacked the lid shut.
I warmed up my right arm by rubbing it with my left hand. “Come on, Mike. It was still all tacky where the tape was. Just like the other patch. Which means they were probably both put there around the same time. And probably both removed around the same time, too. Like last night.”
He clamped his lips shut.
Really, I wasn’t much in the mood for games. At least not games other people controlled. For my part, I decided to take a chance and go for broke with a little game of my own. Following a hunch and a mental image that sprang to my mind the moment I mapped out the shape of the second hidden paper, I slipped my purse off my shoulder, dropped it on the grass, and dug around inside for my wallet. When I found it, I pulled out a dollar bill and slapped it on top of the ice cream cart.
“Yay by yay,” I said, holding apart thumb and forefinger to measure the bill. “Exactly the distance between those tape marks inside the cart. Apparently, Richie thought it was a good hiding place for more than just guillotine plans.”
“So what?” Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “So what if there was some money in there? Richie Monroe destroyed my life. When he ruined my business, he didn’t just hurt me; he hurt my wife and my kids, too. And maybe you don’t understand because you don’t have a family, but messing with my family . . . that’s serious stuff. So what if I found a few measly thousand bucks in there? The way I figure it, he owed me.”
“A few thousand.” It was more than I expected and I let out a low whistle of amazement. “How many few?”
Mike bit his lower lip and I just about screamed.
“There’s no use trying to stonewall me. You’re going to have to tell Hank. You know that, Mike. And if nobody else claims the money and Hank figures out that it’s not stolen or anything, you’ll get to keep it. I don’t know you well, but I’ve seen how hard you work. That tells me you’re the kind of man who didn’t sleep very well last night while you tried to convince yourself that you had every right to keep that money. Once you have the blessings of the authorities, you know you can rest easy again.”
He puffed out a breath of annoyance. “I thought if I didn’t tell anyone—”
“How much?” I asked him again.
Mike spit out the words, “Twelve thousand.”
“Cash?”
He nodded. “A big, fat wad. I’ll tell you what, you could have knocked me over with a feather, that’s how surprised I was to find it.”
“Then Richie wasn’t just blowing smoke when he said he was coming into money and he was going to leave the island. It was the truth.”
“And I’m a real sucker for telling you about it.” Mike stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “My family could really use that money. And now—”
“Daddy!” Speaking of family, two small boys and a little girl squealed and called and ran across the park in our direction, a few feet ahead of the attractive blonde who was telling them to slow down and behave and not interrupt Daddy when he was working.
“It’s okay.” I turned and waved so she wouldn’t worry about the kids.
They clustered around Mike.
“Can we have Popsicles?” the older of the two boys asked.
“Or ice cream?” the other one piped up. “Emma’s feeling better today.” He gave his sister a little push. “She ate cereal for breakfast and she didn’t even throw up. I bet she could have ice cream and if she can, then we can, too.”
I smiled down at the little girl who stood next to me. “Were you sick, Emma?” I asked her.
She looked at her dad and when he gave her the go-ahead that apparently indicated I wasn’t a stranger to be avoided, she nodded. “I had to stay in bed. One, two, three days.” She held up the requisite number of fingers to prove it. “And when I really didn’t feel good, Daddy had to come home from work to sit with me so Mommy could go to the store and get med’cine. But I’m better now and Daddy . . .” I would bet there wasn’t a dad in the world who could resist those big, brown eyes. “I’d like strawberry, please!”
With a smile of surrender, Mike flipped open the freezer compartment and I stepped away. After all, my work there was done. In addition to finding out that Mike’s alibi about leaving Levi’s to go home to a sick child was true, I’d found out a couple other important things, too. Number one: it looked like Richie was the one who’d messed with the guillotine, and number two: he wasn’t kidding when he said he could afford to leave the island.
Of course, that brought up a whole other question.
See, if Mike found the money inside the ice cream freezer, that meant Richie hid it there some time before he was killed. That was a no-brainer.
What took a little more thinking about was the fact that on the night he was murdered, Richie said he’d be leaving the island once he came into some money. Which meant he wasn’t talking about the twelve thousand dollars he already had; he was talking about more.
And that, of course, left me wondering. Where had all the money come from? And what had Richie done to earn it?
14
So all right, I’d eliminated both Mike and Rosalee from my long list of suspects. Don’t think that meant I was giving up on the others! Obviously, someone had killed Richie. Not so obviously (even to me), was why I was so hell-bent on finding out whodunnit.
To that end, I kept myself busy the rest of that Saturday. The cleaning crew was in, and I did what supervising was necessary. Since I’d contracted with the best cleaning service on the island and paid them a bundle, that wasn’t much.
I ran interference between Guillotine—they were making final preparations for their concert in the park that night�
�and the throwback fans who kept vigil in front of the B and B, squealing like the teenyboppers they had been oh-so long before each and every time they caught a glimpse of one of the Boyz.
I made sure I had everything I needed for the next day’s breakfast, and since it would officially be the end of the weekend and the last day of the Bastille celebration, I went whole hog. There would be lattes all around as well as banana-Nutella crepes. Yeah, I know, not technically French, but plenty showy and a good way to send off a houseful of guests who would (hopefully) be impressed enough to recommend Bea & Bees to their traveling friends.
I talked to Chandra, Kate, and Luella and told each one of them that I’d meet them at the park that evening in time for the big show. I avoided Levi when I saw him cruising down the snack food aisle at the grocery store because, well, heck, I had no idea what to say to the best kisser my lips had ever had the luck of running into. And besides, the way my heart pounded the moment I caught sight of him, I wasn’t sure I could talk coherently anyway, and how would that look?
I prepared bills for everyone checking out the next day, helped Didi search when she misplaced the gauzy yellow scarf she wanted to wear to the concert that night (it had floated under the bed when she took it out of her suitcase), and watered all the flowerpots on the front porch. This, it should be noted, was not completely necessary since when I walked outside—with my cute watering can shaped like a gigantic bee in hand—I caught sight of the hindquarters of Jerry Garcia as he leaped over my porch railing. Good ol’ Jerry, was up to his old tricks. He’d already watered my flowers for me.
Through it all, what I was really doing, of course, was biding my time.
As for what I was biding my time for . . .
By five o’clock, the Boyz had headed for the park, Dan Peebles and Didi had left for dinner, and Ashburn and Drake were on the front porch, peppering each other with Dickens questions and preening like pro wrestlers when one stumped the other.
As for me, I got ready for what I had planned. I donned a pair of black jeans (it was a sticky evening and far too hot for long pants, but in the name of an investigation, sacrifices must be made), a black T-shirt, and the scuffed sneakers that weren’t nearly as bright and noticeable as my brand-spanking-new white ones. Though I wouldn’t need it for a few more hours, I grabbed a small flashlight and tucked it into my pocket. As ready as I’d ever be, I went downtown to the park where, as promised, I met up with Chandra, Kate, and Luella. Just as the sun dipped below the western rim of the lake and I figured it was the right moment to slip away, I crossed my fingers behind my back and told them I was going to the ladies room and I’d return in a jiffy.
The park was packed, and with that many people milling around and blocking the view, I probably didn’t need the subterfuge, but I walked off in the direction of the ladies room, doubled around, squirreled my way around the equipment piled near the stage where Dino and Gordon Hunter were doing a last-minute check on the sound system, and shot off to the western portion of the island. With the crowd and the traffic, it wouldn’t have done any good to drive, and I knew it, so I hoofed it all the way.
And maybe walking wasn’t such a bad thing after all. By the time I got to Gordon Hunter’s, the neighborhood of vacation cottages was bathed in the last of the soft light—and enough long shadows for me to hide in when the occasional car or golf cart shot past.
I was just about to turn up Gordon’s front walk when I heard footsteps behind me. Not Rosalee this time, I hoped, and not Levi, either. This last bit wasn’t as much a hope as it was a prayer. I still didn’t know how to start a conversation with him that was sure to be all about dodging the only thing worth talking about to begin with.
Hoping to look more like a casual walker than a snoop, I stepped lightly over a fallen tree branch and kept on going without even so much as a glance at Gordon’s darkened cottage. The person behind me kept pace. That is, until that person tripped over the tree branch and let out a screech that sounded all too familiar.
I spun around and darted forward, one hand out to keep Chandra from going down in a heap. Which was a good thing. I would have hated to give her the Laser Look of Death while she was lying on the ground.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, not the least bit guilty about the Laser Look of Death since she was still upright.
“Me?” Chandra slipped off her sandal, hopped on one foot, and rubbed her toe. By the time she was done gyrating and I was done dancing around to keep up with her just in case she lost her footing, we were both looking back in the direction from which we’d come. “I should be asking you the same thing. You lied to us, Bea. You said you were going to the ladies room.”
“So you followed me?”
She dropped her sandal and when it landed on the road with a thwack, she poked her foot back in it. “I was worried. I—”
Chandra’s words dissolved in a little hiccup of surprise when a second person materialized out of the shadows.
“Kate?” I leaned forward, peering into the gathering darkness just to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. “You, too? You followed me?”
“No.” Kate is nothing if not a stickler for accuracy. I didn’t need light to know I got an eye roll. “I followed Chandra.”
“And I followed the whole lot of you,” Luella said, when she, too, stepped out of the darkness and closed in on us. “If you’re trying to be sneaky, you’re doing a terrible job of it. You’re making nearly as much noise as those crazy fan club ladies in the park. What’s going on? And why didn’t you tell us something was up, Bea? I thought when it came to our cases, we were a team.”
“Unless Bea stealing away from us doesn’t have anything to do with our case,” Kate suggested, as innocent as can be except for the little teasing lilt in her voice. “She could be meeting someone.”
“A cute bartender, maybe?” Chandra said. “You know, he was at her house the other night.” She added this like it was news, but I guarantee it was not. No way Chandra could keep anything that almost-juicy to herself for any length of time. “I have my suspicions,” she went on. “You know, about what time he got there—”
“And what time he left that night,” Kate put in.
“If he left at all that night,” Chandra concluded.
And I gave up with a monumental sigh.
“All right. Stop!” At this point, even the truth was better than listening to them speculate about my love life (or lack of it). “The only thing I’m here to do is have a look around Gordon’s. He was acting so weird the other day, and honestly, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it except that he was on the dock the night Richie went into the water.”
“And he was angry at Richie because of what Richie did to his boat,” Kate said.
“And Gordon was at Levi’s the night Richie was poisoned,” Luella reminded us, though she didn’t have to.
I nodded, then I realized they probably couldn’t see me so I said, “It made me wonder what was up.”
“And what was up is that you didn’t want to include us.” No one could lay on a guilt trip like Kate. I didn’t have to see her expression clearly to know she was pouting.
I swore I wouldn’t give in to what I knew was an attempt to make me feel bad, then immediately felt bad and caved. “I didn’t want to include you because I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do or what was going to happen, and I didn’t want to involve you.” I looked around at the circle of faces, pale in the moonlight. “Any of you.”
Chandra rubbed her hands together. “So you are planning to break in!”
“No!” I didn’t bother to add, not unless it’s absolutely necessary, because there was no use putting ideas in their heads.
I glanced over my shoulder toward Gordon’s. “I wanted to check out the house,” I said. “The other day when we were here, I thought Gordon was acting—”
“Damned suspicious.” Luella marched up the front walk.
“And awfully jumpy,” Kate said an
d followed her.
“And since he’s busy back at the park . . .” The intrigue appealed to Chandra and, grinning, she headed to the house, too.
Which left me, the person who had formulated the plan in the first place, standing there like a dolt. I scrambled to catch up with them just in time to hear Chandra say, “You can use a credit card for that, you know. I see it on the cop shows on TV all the time. They slip the card inside the door next to the lock and it flips open like magic!”
“Hold on!” I knew she wouldn’t so I grabbed Chandra’s arm. I shouldn’t have had to say it, but I felt I needed to make myself perfectly clear. “I’m not here to do anything illegal like break into the house.”
“How else are you going to find out what’s going on?” Chandra asked.
“And figure out if Gordon’s connected with Richie’s murder?” Kate added.
Luella? She didn’t say a thing, but I could feel her eyes on me. She was looking for answers, too.
I hated to admit that I was plumb out.
“I just thought . . .” In the dark, I didn’t know if they could see me shrug and I guess it didn’t matter. “I figured if I . . .” For a person who’d spent a lot of time thinking about this little foray into spying, I really didn’t have much of a plan, and the sigh I let out pretty much told them so. “I thought I might be able to see into one of the windows,” I finally admitted, and honestly, it sounded far lamer than it had when I’d come up with the plan back at home. “I just can’t help but wonder why Gordon was so evasive the other day.”
“Because he’s trying to hide something,” Chandra decided right then and there. “Which gives us every right to break in. You know, in the name of the case.”
I was not convinced, and it was a good thing Kate and Luella weren’t, either. They slipped to either side of Chandra and each grabbed an arm.
“Go,” Luella said to me, cocking her head toward the house. “It’s hard to tell if the blinds are still all closed, but maybe you’ll be able to see something through the windows. You brought a flashlight?”
