by Junie Coffey
“That makes sense,” said Andrew, “but which dictionary on Pineapple Cay? We need a place to go to and get the coin.”
“I think I know,” said Nina. “There’s a big leather-bound edition of the Oxford English Dictionary on display in the public library. Let’s try that. If it’s not there, the girls’ sailing team seemed to think it’s in their school library.”
They looked around them to make sure they weren’t being followed, then slipped down the lane next to the bakery onto Seagarden Street, where the library stood next to the museum. Nina noticed that the two men in shades and their SUV had disappeared.
The same tiny, bent-over lady was sitting behind the desk in the miniature library when Nina and the others went in. She smiled at them in greeting, her eyes twinkling. The four of them almost filled the room.
“How are you today, Mrs. Smith?” asked Pansy. “Busy?”
“Oh, yes. It has been hopping. More browsers than borrowers, but I’m counting them as visitors anyway. We need the numbers to keep the pittance the government gives us each year to buy books.” She held up the counter in her hand and punched the button four times. “Twenty-five visits today so far,” she said.
Nina sidled over to the dictionary and flipped to the s’s. Tucked between the pages next to the word Saturday was a gold coin. She held it up. “Yeah, team!” she said.
“All right. Here is your next clue,” said Mrs. Smith. “A leafy bower; a court of love.”
“Oh, come on!” said Danish. “And what exactly is a bower?”
“Well, you are standing right next to a dictionary,” said Nina. “Look it up.”
He flipped to the page and ran down it with his finger. “A pleasant shady place under trees or climbing plants in a garden or wood,” he read.
“Oh! I don’t believe it! I think I got one!” said Nina. “The tennis courts at the Plantation Inn! The fences around the courts are covered in climbing vines, and the tall trees provide shade during the day. The grounds of the inn are landscaped, like a flower garden.”
“And love means no score in tennis,” said Andrew. Mrs. Smith sat nodding and smiling at them.
“Good luck, kids!” she sang out as they hurried out the door.
“Oh, no. Look!” said Pansy. “Here comes Lance and his crew. He’s going to get that one in a second. He’s a tennis pro.”
“He may not know what a bower is,” said Danish. The Beer Commercial was about a block away and hadn’t spotted them. Led by Danish, the team slipped behind the library and across the back lawn from tree to tree until they were behind the museum.
“My cart is parked around the corner,” said Pansy. “Let’s make a run for it.” They scurried in single file over the low stone wall of the house next door, across the backyard, and into the dirt lane that ran beside it, where Pansy’s cart was parked. They piled in and she peeled away, taking backstreets to the turnoff to the inn, banging over the potholes.
“Take it easy, Pansy,” said Andrew between jolts. “We’re going to get a flat.”
“Hang on, sweetie,” she replied as she made a sweeping turn onto the inn’s long driveway.
From her rollicking perch in the backseat, Nina kept looking over her shoulder for Lance and the rest of the Beer Commercial. They were nowhere in sight. Pansy wheeled into the parking area and stopped abruptly, pitching them all forward in their seats. She was out of the cart and across the drive to the tennis courts before any of them could say anything.
“So, who’s competitive now?” asked Danish.
“You have no idea,” said Andrew. “She prefers talky party games like ‘If they made a movie of your life, who would play you?’ but challenge her to a game of Go Fish, and she’ll pound you into the ground.”
Before Nina, Andrew, and Danish reached the tennis courts, Pansy was already headed back toward them, the gold coin in her hand.
“Got it,” she said briskly. “The last clue is a quest: ‘Bring three pieces of sea glass to the museum to exchange for one gold coin: cobalt, white, and sea green.’ They obviously don’t know who they are dealing with here.” She kept walking briskly toward the cart.
“They are Alice and Kiki, not Big Brother,” Nina reminded her. “I imagine they thought it would be enjoyable for people to spend an hour or so beachcombing, soaking up the island atmosphere.”
“Yes, well. I’ve got every kind of sea glass possible in my shop, so we can shave a good chunk off our time and maybe move into first place. Alice said no Internet—not that you couldn’t go into your office for glass that was, at one time, on the beach,” said Pansy as she jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. Nobody else cared enough to argue, so they piled into the cart and headed back down the long driveway.
At the turnoff, they passed the Beer Commercial in a white SUV. The windows were down, and Lance was not in it.
“Did you see that?” Nina said. “Lance bailed on the treasure hunt. So, where has he gone? To feed his captive, or to rescue his lady love?”
Andrew turned around to look at Nina quizzically.
“Oh. News flash. Tiffany and Lance were up to it before she disappeared,” said Danish. “Nina and I saw them. Right by the tennis courts, in fact.” Pansy didn’t say anything about Operation Ladies’ Underwear.
“So . . . you think Lance Redmond kidnapped her?” Andrew asked.
“Maybe,” said Pansy.
“Blue Roker seems to think Barry Bassett had something to do with it,” said Nina. She told them what Blue had said about the ransom note being a fake and about Barry’s calls to a criminal in Miami.
“Blue isn’t stupid. He only let those tidbits out because he wants them circulating on the bush telegraph, maybe to see if he can smoke out the villains,” said Nina.
“Oh my heavens!” said Pansy. “This is getting too serious!”
She stopped the cart in front of the Pineapple Cay Real Estate office, which was painted in several bright colors—salmon-pink clapboards, yellow window frames with blue gingerbread trim, and a green roof. The little front garden was bursting with flowers in full bloom. They trooped up the winding front walk and into the tiny building. The front part of the office was set up to display Pansy’s jewelry and other crafts and artwork. It was filled with sunlight from the large display windows. Pansy went into the back room, where her desk and computer were located, and lifted an enormous glass jar off the windowsill. It was the kind you store flour in, and it was filled to the brim with pieces of sea glass in various colors. She sank her hand into the slippery, smooth pieces and pulled out rounded chunks of white, green, and cobalt-blue glass. She rejoined the others in the front gallery.
“Got them. Let’s go,” she said, moving out from behind the counter that divided her office from the gallery.
Four burly, sunburned men came into the shop, blocking out the sun with their broad shoulders. Nina recognized them as the Clues Brothers. They browsed intently over the glass shelving units where Pansy’s sea-glass jewelry was displayed. One of the men plucked up two pairs of earrings in blues, greens, and white.
“I’ll take these, please,” the man said, putting the earrings on the counter in front of Pansy.
“Well, OK,” she said. “We’re not really open, but since I’m here . . . I’m glad you like them.” She rang in the sale and took his money. He immediately took one earring out of the paper bag she’d put them in and began to pry the silver wire away from the sea glass with a Swiss Army Knife.
“What are you doing?” Pansy asked, appalled.
“I’m just taking them apart temporarily. I need the glass for the community treasure hunt,” he said, as if he thought it was a perfectly logical explanation.
“Well, that’s not really in the spirit of things, is it? Why don’t you go look on the beach? I made those. It took me hours,” said Pansy. She passed the three pieces of sea glass she’d picked out of her giant glass jar to Andrew under cover of the counter and said, “Go!” Without quest
ioning her, he took off at a slow jog toward the museum.
“They’re very pretty. I’ll fix them later. I did pay for them,” he replied. Nina watched Pansy’s expression change abruptly from outraged horror to a welcoming smile as she fixed on a new delaying strategy.
“Yes, I guess you’re right. And where are you all from? Is this your first visit to Pineapple Cay?” she asked.
“No, we come here once in a while. We’re just down from Atlanta for the weekend. We’re brothers, and we try to get together now and then. You have to make a point of it, what with kids and work and all. Never tried a treasure hunt, though. Might be a bit girlie for a guys-only weekend. Seemed like a good idea when we were three sheets to the wind last evening, and that nice young lady from the museum came down to the marina and recruited us. It was kind of a kick to see Jules Savage this morning. I haven’t seen him since his 1988 world tour. I got grounded for a month when I got home that night. Those were the days.”
“Oh, give the hunt another try tomorrow,” said Pansy. “I think there are boats involved. Today is just to prime the pump. Now, do you think your wife would like these earrings?” Pansy lifted a white-and-silver pair up to the light for him to see.
“Did you know what a bower was?” Danish asked another of the brothers, who was standing next to him.
“Well, that was kind of my specialty,” answered the man. “I’m a high school English teacher and coach of the tennis team.”
The first man bought the white-and-silver earrings for his wife, then the other brothers felt they’d better take something back for their wives, too. Pansy helped them choose three more pairs and wrapped them in tissue paper for them.
“Bye now!” she said as she locked the door behind them ten minutes later.
“Pansy, you are devious! Those are the same stealth moves you pulled on Barry Bassett to keep him from getting Miss Rose’s house!” said Nina.
“And aren’t you glad I did?” said Pansy as they slipped out the back door and walked over to the museum.
Andrew was waiting for them in the garden, watching his children play tag among the sculptures.
“Did we nab first place?” asked Pansy as her kids swarmed her, hugging her waist as she hugged them back.
“I’m afraid not,” said Andrew. “The Sole Sisters and Their Token Male are leading, but we’re in second place.”
Pansy and Andrew went off with their children, and Danish went to find Alice, saying he’d catch up with Nina at The Redoubt later. Nina walked home along the beach and then took a swim. Afterward, she took a shower, put on jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, and had a glass of wine on her veranda looking out at the water. Except for the young officer assigned to community-fun-day detail, there had been no sign of Blue Roker or the rest of the force in town all day. Nina wondered where they all were, and if they were closing in on Tiffany’s kidnappers. Lance seemed to be everywhere, but she hadn’t seen Barry Bassett since she’d spied on him through his living-room window on Wednesday night. She was relaxed and drowsy after spending the day in the sun, and she could have happily stayed right where she was. But she was looking forward to hearing some live music, so when the sun was waist deep in the ocean, she hoisted herself out of her lounge chair, grabbed her bag and her flip-flops, and headed down the beach to The Redoubt.
As she got closer to the village center, Nina could see some activity on the wharf behind the police station. As she watched, three police boats arrived from the north, cutting their engines and floating in to the dock. Pairs of officers dressed in navy-blue combat pants and T-shirts and heavy boots climbed wearily out of the boats, stretched their legs, and headed up the ramp to the station. Blue Roker was among them. They must have been out looking for Tiffany, Nina thought.
The Redoubt was busy, but most of the crowd was outside on the deck or down around the bonfire on the beach. Veronica smiled at Nina as she came in, shaking her head and laughing as she popped the caps off several bottles of beer and set them in front of what looked like members of a local softball team at the far end of the bar—middle-aged men with a few paunches among them.
Nina slipped into a seat at the corner of the bar nearest the beach entrance and looked around. A harried waitress took her order and put a glass of white wine in front of her. Her eyes snagged the spectacle of Barry Bassett presiding over a table with the same three men she’d seen him with the other night. Barry was smiling his pasted-on smile as he raised his hand to flag down the waitress. A few minutes later, she brought a bottle of wine and stood by while he tasted it. He nodded, and she poured glasses for the other men. Barry raised his glass in a toast, and they all drank.
They’re celebrating something, thought Nina as she sipped her wine and watched Barry, thinking of the police boats she’d just seen return to the wharf as the sun set, and the tired officers who’d made their way slowly up the road to the police station carrying bulky equipment.
“Hello, Nina.” It was Ted standing beside her with his elbow leaning on the bar. He followed her gaze over to Barry, then looked back at her.
“Hi, Ted,” said Nina, thinking about Delmont Samuels and Operation Ladies’ Underwear and wondering how much Ted might have heard on the bush telegraph or directly from Blue Roker. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. He looked at her intently. She hadn’t noticed before how long his eyelashes were. She looked down into her wineglass, then took another sip. He turned around to face the room, leaning back and resting his elbows on the bar. He watched Barry Bassett in silence, and so did she, glancing furtively over at him from time to time.
“So, having any fun these days?” he asked without looking at her. She decided to pretend that the ink spill, her visit to The Pirate’s Wake, and her discussion with Blue Roker at the police station hadn’t occurred.
“Well, I’m having fun painting my house, and I spent yesterday writing an article. Today, Pansy, Andrew, Danish, and I did the museum treasure hunt. It was fun,” she said innocently, wondering how she could avoid the topic of hot tubs, tears, and Barry Bassett. “Catch any fish today?” she asked.
He took a drink of his beer, glanced at her, then looked away again before answering. “The guys were out today, but I had meetings with the Department of Tourism on the main island. I just got back.” He didn’t elaborate.
They were both silent for a moment. He isn’t making it easy for me, thought Nina. She tried another tack.
“Your team did well in the treasure hunt today,” she said. “They’re in first place.” That got a smile out of him.
“Yeah. It sounded like they had a lot of fun. Cheryl, who manages the lodge, told me they burst in this afternoon, took apart a reading lamp in the club room to get at the sea glass, and took off again,” he said.
“Good evening, Nina, Ted.” It was Blue Roker, standing next to Ted. He wiped his forehead with the hem of his T-shirt, briefly exposing his stomach muscles.
Nina mumbled hello and quickly looked away.
“Blue, how’s it going? Done for the day?” said Ted. “Let me buy you a beer.” He raised his hand to catch Veronica’s eye, and she strolled over.
“Good evening,” she said, looking from them to Nina, laughing and shaking her head again. “How is it, Blue?”
“That is a big ocean out there,” he said, not giving much away.
“What can I get for you?” Veronica asked. Blue ordered a beer, and she brought it to him with a glass. He took a long drink straight from the bottle.
Veronica looked at Nina again, grinning. “You come see me at the farm next week, Nina. Tuesday around noon. We’ll pick some vegetables in the garden and cook lunch together. I think you’re running out of things to do.” She threw her head back and laughed again, tapped the bar twice with her knuckles, and then moved off again to the far end.
Ted took a sip of his beer and looked over at Barry again. He didn’t look at Nina. Blue looked directly at her with his startling blue eyes, then away again, taking another pull on his beer.
“Excuse me,” Blue said, placing his bottle on the bar and heading toward the restroom.
Ted swung his head around to look at Nina. “So, is Veronica right? Are you running out of things to do? I can think of any number of safe, enjoyable things to do on a Tuesday night.” He paused and surveyed the room again, then looked back at her. “The yacht club shows movies on a wall in their clubhouse once a week. Usually old ones, but those are some of the best. There are crab races here on the beach. That’s on Friday nights, but you get the idea. Then there’s bingo at the church hall Wednesday nights.” He looked away again. “I could even come up with a few good ideas myself. All perfectly legal. None of which involve a pot-smoking, overgrown-adolescent sidekick. Want to play darts?”
“Pardon?” she asked.
He looked at her again. “There’s a dartboard over there. Do you care for a game of darts? My guests have come into town for the concert, so I thought I’d stick around for a while.”
“Sure,” she said, sliding off her stool. So. He had heard about the hot tub and her outing to The Pirate’s Wake.
Well, what he didn’t know was how many hours Nina had logged in her family’s basement rec room honing her dart-throwing skills with her brothers. She’d been Spark family champion at the annual Christmas basement tournament for the last three years running.
Ted walked over to the jukebox and popped in a quarter, and the machine sprang to life. The first chords of Peggy Lee’s “Fever” filled the room. He sent her a sly smile. She relaxed. Maybe they were past the awkward part of the evening and moving on to the post–hot-tub incident part. He held out a quarter to her.
“You get the next pick. Just a gentle reminder: It’s Saturday night, and people are here looking for a good time,” he said.
She flipped through the cards again and pushed the button for the Glenn Miller Orchestra’s “In the Mood.”
“All right,” she said, taking the darts in her hand. “Want to up the ante? Make things a bit more interesting? I’m willing to wager that I will beat you—easily—best three out of five.”
