White Sand Blues

by Vicki Delany

  She stirred the food on her plate with her fork. My vegetarian pasta looked delicious. I’d been starving when I arrived. Now I’d lost my appetite. “I’ll agree that it sounds bad,” I said. “But it’s a long way from having an argument to killing your husband.”

  “Not for her.”

  I could think of nothing to say about that. I changed the subject. “Everything here is so beautiful. Is this your first visit to the island?”

  “I came once before. A cousin of mine had her wedding here. At this hotel. It was about a year after Mom died. Dad didn’t want to come, but I insisted. He was deeply depressed after we lost Mom. He needed to get away.”

  “He must have enjoyed it then. To want to come back.”

  “He had a great time. He remembered how to laugh. He looked better than he had in months.”

  “Good memories then.”

  “We both had good memories. Lots of them. She put an end to that.”

  “If you had proof, Sally, I’d tell you to talk to the police. But you don’t. All you have is guesses. When are you due to go home?”

  “Our flight’s booked for Sunday. But we’ll be staying until the police release Dad’s body.”

  “Release the body? You mean they’re going to do an autopsy?”

  “The police officer told Christina that’s always done when a healthy person dies with no witnesses. I bet that put a fright into her.”

  “Wait for the autopsy results. If your father’s death was suspicious, they’ll find out.”

  She gave me a tight smile. Her mouth had a way of turning up on one side when she smiled. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Ashley.” She stretched her hand across the table. I took it in mine and gave it a squeeze.

  FIVE

  I WOKE EARLY the next morning and went for a run on the beach. The sun was rising over the calm ocean in a cloudless blue sky. The temperature was climbing toward the thirties. It was going to be another beautiful and very hot day.

  I hadn’t yet bought anything to make in my own small kitchen. After my run I headed to the main hotel building for breakfast. A smiling waiter served me piping-hot coffee and fresh orange juice. I opened the menu. I swallowed. With these prices, I needed to find a grocery store—and fast. The previous night, Sally had signed the bill for dinner.

  I read my book, drank coffee and juice and ate eggs Benedict. I planned to spend the day at the beach. I wanted to enjoy my time off. The next day I’d begin work at 7:00 AM.

  When I got back to my room the little red message light on the phone was blinking. I picked it up with a sigh. Mom checking in, I expected.

  Instead, Sally had left a message.

  “Ashley! I’ve discovered something really important. Come on over. I want to show you. Meet me in my room at ten o’clock. Villa number five. Room two.”

  It was nine thirty now. I remembered our school days. Sally had been bossy as well as strong-willed. It seemed as though she hadn’t changed.

  I’d planned to put on my bathing suit and gather my beach things. Instead I picked up my purse. I found the taxi driver’s card and gave him a call. He said he’d arrive at ten to ten.

  I waited in the hotel lobby. The manager, Darlene, said good morning. “Going exploring?”

  “I’d love to. But I have to pay a call on a friend.”

  She smiled. “You’ve made friends already. That’s nice.”

  “Not a new friend. I ran into someone from home at Club Louisa.”

  Her smile faded. “Where that man died yesterday. So sad. My cousin Candice is a maid at Club Louisa. My aunt told me she was quite upset about it.”

  “The man’s daughter is my friend.”

  “I am sorry to hear that. She’s lucky she has you. Here’s your cab now. Have a nice day, Ashley.”

  Harry was chatty this morning. He told me he’d lived in New York City for a few years. He hadn’t liked it. He’d never been to Toronto. Did I think he’d like Toronto?

  “Too cold,” I said. “And it’s a damp cold.”

  “You’ll need to do some shopping soon. Best place for groceries is Food Mart. I can take you there.”

  “How do you know I need groceries? Can’t I eat in the hotel restaurant?”

  “Not with what they’re payin’ you down at the ambulance depot.”

  “How do you know…?”

  “This here’s the islands, Ashley. Everyone knows everything.”

  Only then did I realize I hadn’t told him I was from Toronto. Nor had I given him my first name.

  He pulled into the long driveway of the Club Louisa. “Do you know anything about the man who died here yesterday?” I asked.

  Harry shrugged. “One white tourist’s like another. We don’t concern ourselves. That’ll be ten dollars.”

  I handed it over. The Victoria and Albert chain of islands was a British colony, but people used American money.

  The Club Louisa covered a lot of ground. The large main building was surrounded by smaller villas. I followed the signs and found number five. It was close to the swimming pools, with a great view over the ocean.

  Sally opened the door of room two before I’d finished knocking.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  She gave me a quick hug. She didn’t invite me in. “Thanks for coming. Let’s go.”

  “Go where? Tell me what you found first.”

  “I’d rather show you.”

  She led the way past the pool and down to the beach. I slipped off my shoes. I held them in my hand as we crossed the sand. A small wooden shack stood about a hundred meters from the steps to the hotel. A green flag hung limply in the still air. The flag indicated the water conditions. Green meant safe swimming for children and for boating. Colorful paddle boats and kayaks were stacked on the sand next to the building. Several pontoon boats and a rowboat sat at water’s edge. Two single-engine boats were anchored close to shore. A sailboat drifted farther out.

  “I’m back,” Sally called to the young man telling a couple the price of a day in the sailboat.

  “Be with you in a moment, darlin’,” he said. His white shorts sat low on narrow hips, and his clinging, sleeveless T-shirt did nothing to hide the muscles rippling under his dark skin. Colorful beads were woven into his long hair.

  “Over here,” Sally said to me. The counter of the beach shack was open to the air. Bottles of sunscreen, cheap sunglasses and straw hats filled the shelves. Flippers, masks and snorkels hung on the wall.

  “You want to go snorkeling?” I said. “You didn’t tell me to bring my bathing suit.” Not that I’d be caught dead with my face underwater.

  Bad choice of words, I reminded myself.

  “Of course not,” she said. “Look at this.” A lined notebook lay on the counter. A pen was tied to it with a length of string. “Everything here is free to hotel guests. Except for a motorboat rental or sailboat excursion. But the equipment has to be signed out.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Sally turned the notebook around. She stabbed at a line on the paper. I peered closer. Yesterday’s date was written across the top in large print. A grid of times, names, room numbers and type of equipment filled the rest of the page.

  Sally stabbed at the first entry. J. Hunt.

  “Your dad?”

  “That’s his room number. Villa five, suite one. Next to me.”

  “He took a pontoon boat out at seven thirty-five.”

  “So it says.”

  “There’s nothing for the time it was returned. Do you suppose…”

  “My dad was a morning person. To him, morning was a time to get work done. Even on vacation, he’s in touch with the office and he wanted to get his work done before the day began. He didn’t go jogging or swimming or play tennis. Not in the morning or any other time. He certainly didn’t take out a boat yesterday.”

  “Maybe he had a reason. Maybe something was upsetting him, and he wanted some alone time on the water.”

  She shook her head firmly.
“Not my dad.”

  “We’ll think it over. Thanks.” The couple asking about the sailboat left. The young man approached us. He gave Sally a warm smile and me a polite one.

  “I brought my friend to see it,” Sally said.

  “Were you here when this was signed out?” I asked him.

  “Can’t help you, Ashley. I don’t start work till nine.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  He shrugged. “This is the islands. Everyone knows—”

  “Everything. So I’ve been told. Has the boat been found?”

  “No. It must have drifted out to sea. It’ll turn up.”

  “Who was working here at seven yesterday?” I asked.

  “Robert opens up.”

  “Is Robert here now?” I looked around. I didn’t see anyone else.

  He shook his head. The beads in his hair clinked. “I had to open myself.”

  “Is it usual for Robert to not come to work on time?”

  The beads clattered again. “These are the islands, darlin’. We like to take things easy. But at a hotel like this one, if we take things too easy we’ll be fired.”

  “Did he phone in sick maybe?” I asked.

  “I don’t have the keys. Had to call up to the boss lady to come and unlock the shack. She hadn’t heard from him. She was mighty angry. It don’t pay to cross her.”

  “I’d like to talk to Robert.” Sally pulled a scrap of paper out of her pocket. “Here’s my number. Can you call me when he gets here?” She handed the paper to him along, with a twenty-dollar bill.

  “Sure.”

  Another couple arrived at the shack. He strolled over to help them.

  “Interesting, don’t you think?” Sally said to me.

  “Robert’s not coming to work today might have nothing to do with your dad.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Sally stabbed at the sign-out sheet. “Because that might be my dad’s name, but it is not his signature.”

  SIX

  WEDNESDAY MORNING, I jumped out of bed. I was ready and eager to start work. At ten to seven, Simon arrived in the red ambulance. We drove though quiet streets to the office. No other ambulances were in the parking area.

  “Is everyone else out on call?” I asked.

  Simon roared with laughter. “We’re it for today. You and me. You’re lucky you got me. Otherwise it’d be just you.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  We went inside. The ambulance depot consisted of one big room and a smaller one. The big room had a desk with a radio console, two cots, a couple of cheap plastic chairs and a small kitchen area. My new boss, Gord, came out of the small room, which was his office. He held out his hand and we shook. “Welcome,” he said. “Fix yourself a tea or coffee if you like. Then we can start the paperwork. First, a radio and a shirt. Simon.”

  I’d dressed in my uniform pants from Toronto and a plain T-Shirt. Simon handed me a portable radio and a loose blue golf shirt. The shirt had the logo of the Victoria and Albert Islands on the breast pocket. The back said Paramedic in big white letters.

  “Thanks, I…” I got no further. The radio squawked. And the day’s work began.

  The ambulance siren whooped and red lights flashed as we pulled out of the parking area.

  “This is the only ambulance?” I said.

  “Yup,” Simon replied.

  “What happens when it’s in for service?”

  “It don’t get serviced.”

  “What? You mean never?”

  “The Lord will provide.” He spun the wheel as we went into a roundabout without waiting for a safe break in traffic.

  I gripped the door handle. “Okay. I guess. How many other medics are on staff ?”

  “Three. And three drivers.”

  “You mean four in total? Not per shift? What happens if there are two incidents at the same time?”

  “Gord helps out if he’s needed.”

  “But there’s only one ambulance.”

  “He has an SUV.”

  “Oh.”

  The call was to a minor accident on the highway. A car had bumped a motorbike, and the bike had gone into the ditch. The only injury was a bad cut on the motorcycle driver’s arm. We took him to the hospital.

  The Grand Victoria Hospital was small but well equipped. The nurse who greeted us was the one I’d met on my first day. Lucy from Scotland. “If you need anything, Ashley, just let me know. I’ve lived here for twenty-five years, so I’m beginning to know my way around.” She laughed heartily. Other staff members came over to be introduced to the newcomer. They made me feel very welcome.

  A man dressed in the blue uniform of a V&A police officer held out his hand. He gave me a broad smile. I felt myself smiling in return. He was tall and fit, with short brown hair streaked golden from the sun. He had sharp cheekbones and heavy stubble on a strong jaw. His blue eyes sparked like the ocean outside these doors. “Alan Westbrook. Pleased to meet you, Ashley. I’m from Edmonton myself.”

  “You’re Canadian?”

  “RCMP. I’m on leave from the Mounties, helping out here for a while.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s a great place to live. Although the job has some challenges. As you’ll find out.”

  Simon had told me he was going to clean the ambulance. He didn’t seem to be doing much cleaning at the moment. He was in a corner, chatting to a pretty nurse. She was giggling and blushing furiously.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I said to Alan.

  “Sure.”

  “I attended at a drowning Monday.”

  He nodded. “I know about it. The autopsy’s being done this morning. I’m here to observe.”

  “Are you the investigating officer?”

  “I am.”

  “Is it possible to let me know what the results are?”

  “Once I’ve officially notified the family, that shouldn’t be a problem. Why?”

  “Just curious. How difficult is it to drown someone? Deliberately, I mean.”

  “Not difficult at all. Not once you’re in a position to hold them underwater for a few minutes.”

  “To do it without leaving traces, I mean. Make it look like an accident.”

  He let out a puff of breath. “If the victim is conscious, it’s not easy. Anyone’s going to struggle. Struggling leaves traces. On the victim and on the killer. Making the victim unconscious before drowning them is going to leave traces too. Do you think that happened in this case?”

  “The victim’s daughter suspects her father was murdered.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “You know?”

  “I interviewed the wife and daughter. I can’t tell you what was said, but accusations flew around. I gotta run. They’ll start without me. Give me your phone number.”

  I felt heat rising into my face. He grinned at me. “So I can call you about the autopsy results.”

  “Oh, right. That.”

  * * *

  The rest of the shift was quiet. I did the paperwork necessary to get paid. Gord filled me in on the details of the job. Two of the other paramedics came in to meet me, Rachel from Vancouver and Kyle from New York City. The third was on vacation.

  “I’m surprised at the number of foreigners I’m meeting on the job,” I said to Gord later. “Canadians like you and Alan in the police. Scottish nurses. Canadian and American medics.”

  “The population of this entire country is about thirty thousand.”

  “I’ve been to Blue Jays games with more people.”

  He laughed. “They get untold thousands of tourists here every year. They don’t have enough people to do all the jobs. Luckily for them, they don’t have trouble attracting people to work here.”

  The evening shift arrived, and I signed out. Gord gave me a lift home.

  I let myself into my room. It was only three o’clock. I was looking forward to a swim and a cocktail before dinner. Dinner and an early night. I still hadn’t done any grocery shopping.
I also hadn’t done anything about getting a cell phone to use on the island. The red message light on the phone blinked at me.

  Sally. “Ashley! Call me back right away. I have to talk to you.”

  Thoughts of relaxation fled. I returned Sally’s call.

  “Where are you?” she said.

  “At my place.”

  “What’s the address? I’m coming over.”

  I changed out of my uniform and had a quick shower. Sally knocked on my door a few minutes later. She almost fell into the room. Her hair was mussed and her eyes wild.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “No, I am not okay. The police have the results of my dad’s autopsy.”

  Sally didn’t take a seat. She paced across my small living room.

  “Calm down,” I said. “And tell me.”

  She whirled around. Her eyes were wide. “They found a fresh bruise on the back of Dad’s head.”

  SEVEN

  I DROPPED into a chair. “Wow.”

  “They’re being all vague, of course. The cop said it could have been an accident. The paddle boat might have caught a wave and flipped. If Dad had been tossed out, he could have hit his head on a rock.”

  “That is possible, Sally.”

  “I showed him the paddle boat sign-out sheet. I told him that wasn’t Dad’s signature. I don’t think he believed me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he doesn’t want to believe that poor, sweet Christina is a ruthless killer.”

  “Did you speak to Sergeant Westbrook?”

  “How’d you know his name?”

  “I met him earlier. When I was working. I’m sure he’s a competent police officer.”

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t there when she put on her grieving-widow act. She has a way of twisting men around her little finger.”

  “Did you tell him about the man Christina met in the cabana?”

  “I did. But he didn’t seem to care.”

  “What does Christina say about all of this?”

  “I don’t know,” Sally admitted. “He interviewed us separately. We’re not exactly talking things over with each other.”