Wicked Women Whodunit

by Davidson, MaryJanice

  Under ordinary conditions—which was to say, when they weren’t looking for a dead body in the steadily deepening dark, worried about the killer up at the mansion and being lashed by torrents of rain—this was probably a pleasant little path to the boathouse.

  Not so much right now.

  “It’s just down there,” Todd said, pointing. “See?”

  They could see a small, squat building with a green roof just at the end of the path, and beyond that, a river gurgled alongside. Caro guessed the river must lead directly to the sea, and they could take the boat around to the back of the mansion, fish the body out, and then ...

  What?

  She’d worry about that later.

  “Is there a reason we aren’t leaving this to the owner of the mansion?” Lynn ventured, stumbling in her pumps.

  “He might be the dead guy,” Caro replied. “And it’s a big place. He could be anywhere. Heck, he could have gone back to the mainland after supper for all we know. I don’t want to waste time looking for someone we don’t even know is alive. I’d rather get to the victim.”

  “It’s touching, yet a little on the creepy side,” Todd said. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with your obsessive need to be in charge.”

  “Here we—ow! Son of a bitch!” Jana cursed and shoved the branches out of her face.

  “Jana!” her mother gasped. “Watch your mouth.”

  “That probably stings like crazy,” Todd commented, smothering a snicker.

  “Does anyone know how to drive a boat?” Lynn asked timidly.

  “I can do it,” Caro said. “I used to go fishing with my old man on the Mississippi all the time.”

  “Aw, that’s so cute,” Todd said. “And when I say cute, I mean lame. Uh-oh.”

  Caro didn’t ask what uh-oh meant. She and the others had reached the door to the boathouse ... and the lock was smashed and hanging open.

  “Dana’s smarter than I thought,” Todd said. “And that’s really saying something—didn’t she say she was a teacher?”

  “What’s so dumb about that?”

  “She teaches modeling.”

  “Her evil knows no bounds,” Caro said. “And she knows a few other things, too.” Caro poked at the broken hasp. “Well, let’s go see how bad it is.”

  She pushed the door open with tented fingers and walked in. Part of her couldn’t believe this was happening to her, would-be author and pediatric nurse. Tramping around in the dark, in a spooky damp boathouse where she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Followed by the three musketeers: Larry, Moe, and Curly. Oh, Lord, what a day. Next time, she told herself grimly, stay home or stay in bed. Possibly both.

  She took a deep breath and went in a little farther, feeling like every stupid horror movie heroine ever conceived. She could practically hear people yelling at the screen, “Don’t go in there, dumb bitch!”

  She kept her flashlight trained in front of her, which was why she didn’t see the body at her feet and went sprawling.

  “Ouch,” Todd said, looking down at her. “That looked embarrassing.”

  Four

  Caro scrambled back, away from the body. She could feel wet muck sliding down her shorts and didn’t care. Wet snakes could be sliding down her shorts and she wouldn’t care. The body on the floor ... she cared about that.

  “Oh, gross!” Jana cried.

  “Another body,” Lynn gasped.

  “Dana’s been a busy girl,” Todd said. “Where’s my lighter?”

  “You dropped it on my back,” the body said, rolling over and sitting up. The four of them screamed in unison. “Ow! Not so loud ... my head ...”

  “You’re alive!” Caro blurted. It was the first thing they taught in her nursing courses: determine if your patient is living or dead.

  “Unfortunately, yes.” The body rubbed the back of his head and squinted up at all of them. “Hey, thanks for coming to get me, you guys. I thought I was a goner when she nailed me.”

  He got to his feet with some care, then bent, winced, and helped Caro to her feet. She couldn’t help staring at him. He was mussed and muddy and a little pale from the blow to his head, but for all that, yummy besides.

  He was dressed in dark blue boat shoes and black swimming trunks, and nothing else. The mat of hair on his chest was dark and curly, the hair on his head a lighter color with streaks of gold, and his eyes were—she squinted in the gloom—dark green ... almost exactly the color of the wet leaves all over the boathouse floor. She’d never seen eyes that color before.

  “You’re not a dead body!” Caro said again, because she honestly couldn’t think of what else to say to him.

  “I’m Turner.”

  “Last name Turner or first name Turner?”

  “Just Turner.”

  “Like just Kramer on ‘Seinfeld,’ ” Jana said helpfully.

  “No, Kramer’s first name was Cosmo,” Todd said. To Turner, “I remember you. Breakfast, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “Like Madonna, then,” Jana was babbling.

  “Or Cher,” Lynn added.

  “You guys, could we stay focused?” Caro demanded. “Turner’s not the dead body. In fact, who are you? I didn’t see you at lunch.”

  “Oh, I work here. Give tours, run the tourists down the river to some of those riverside restaurants ... kind of an all around go-to guy.”

  “Oooh, ooh,” Todd said, grinning. “Stop it.”

  The body quirked an eyebrow at him, then continued. “I came down here when the storm started kickin’ up to make sure the boathouse was locked up, when—holy crap—you’ll never guess—”

  “Dana smashed the lock, damaged the boat, hit you over the head with something, came back told us what happened, and locked herself in.”

  Turner was gaping at them. “Well, shit. There goes my story. Figured it was good for a couple of beers at least. Not to mention, you guys know more of what happened than I do.”

  “I’ll buy you a beer anyway,” Lynn said.

  “I got here in time to hear her rummaging in the boat and got my ‘guests aren’t supposed to use the boats unless I’m with them’ lecture ready, when everything went dark and I went night-night. Didn’t even see her coming.” He rubbed the back of his head and winced. “Girl’s got a swing like a Major Leaguer, I’ll tell you that much.”

  “That’s interesting,” Todd said.

  “Interesting as in psychotic? Interesting as in laughable? What are we talking about? Help me out.”

  “Well, you’re a big guy, a very big guy, pardon me for noticing, and Dana’s at least a foot shorter than you. She would have had to swing up. She must have really wanted you out of her way.”

  “Or didn’t like you.”

  “At least she didn’t kill me, and believe me, this isn’t the first weekend I’ve had to say that. Well, let’s check the boat anyway.”

  They did, and Turner announced, “Even if she hadn’t punched that hole in the stern, I don’t see any spark plugs, do you?”

  “What does one look like?” Lynn whispered in Caro’s ear.

  “Search me,” she shrugged. “So Dana knows about engines, too. Okay.”

  “But ... how come?” Jana ventured. “I mean, grody enough that she killed whoever, but why come down here and fix it so we couldn’t get the body?”

  “Probably the same reason she won’t tell us who she killed,” Caro said. “Question is, now what?”

  “Now we go back up to the mansion and wait for the cops,” Lynn declared. “We’re soaked, it’s getting late, it’s dark—”

  “Aw, Mom,” Jana whined, stealing another glance at Turner’s legs.

  “—and there’s a body bobbing around the water somewhere. . .” Lynn shuddered.

  Turner looked puzzled. “Well, who is it?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Caro explained. “Obviously, it’s not you. And there’s a few more of us missing. Four or five at least. We don’t know who she killed .
.. or even if she’s done killing.”

  “Well, shit! Let’s find out!”

  “It’s so nice to have a man in charge,” Todd murmured, taking a deep drag.

  Caro giggled. “Want me to look at that?” she asked, indicating the lump Turner kept rubbing.

  “Naw. Got worse than this from my mama. Let’s try to round up the others, make sure they’re all okay.”

  “There aren’t that many more of us,” Caro reminded them. “Stop me if you’ve heard this, but ... who the hell did she kill? And why?”

  “I can get the list of guests from the register, and we can go from there.”

  “What a great idea!” Caro cried. “Shoot, we should have done something like that first.”

  “I thought you wanted to find the body first?” Todd asked.

  “Well, now I’ve reprioritized. So, let’s go get that list. You guys? Everybody game?”

  “Okay,” Jana and Lynn said at once. They both had identical expressions of hunger on their faces, which made them look more than ever like mother and daughter. Caro supposed they just needed the right incentive to be socially conscious. The right, six-foot, three-inch incentive.

  Caro and Todd rolled their eyes. “All right, then,” Caro said. “Let’s go.”

  Five

  “You know, you should go for it,” Todd told her. They were trudging back up to the mansion/resort/hellhole, rain beating down on them like a live, malevolent thing. Todd and Caro were trailing behind the group. Jana and Lynn hovered so close to Turner, they were practically holding his hands. “I saw the way you looked at his butt.”

  “I was not,” she said, jerking her gaze higher. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on. You like him, I can tell.”

  “Todd,” she said patiently, “I don’t know him. Or you. Can we stay focused, please? Heck, a few minutes ago I thought he was a dead body.”

  “The only impediment to your budding romance, I might add. Make a pass. He’ll be receptive, I bet. A little va-va-voom on your vacation, do you good.”

  “Todd! We’re sort of in the middle of something, here. There’s a time and a place, and this ain’t it.”

  “Details,” Todd grumbled.

  “Why don’t you make a pass, you think it’s such a great idea?”

  “Oh, believe me, I did. Right after breakfast. Hello, you see his pecs? Oofta. Alas, he politely turned me down.” Todd sighed, then brightened. “But I bet he wouldn’t turn you down.” He squinted at her in the rain. “I bet your hair is past your waist when you get it out of that tacky braid. And it’s probably not usually muddy and brownish.”

  “It’s blond,” she said, stung.

  “Well, drowned rat is not a good look for you, darling. And you’re almost as tall as he is. Actually ...”

  “That’s enough.”

  “... you’ve got sort of the forties starlet thing going, with your teeny waist and big boobs.”

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she said sarcastically. “Now shut your face.”

  “Except for the glasses,” he added heartlessly. “Big purple frames? In this decade? You should lose them and try contacts.”

  “I hate contacts. They itch my eyeballs. Can we please stop this?”

  “But it’s why you came here. It’s why we all came here.”

  “That’s not true!” she cried.

  “Oh, sure it is,” Todd went on cheerfully. “Not necessarily to hook up—like an island Love Boat, how lame would that be? And who does that make me? Doc? Gopher? But to be with people.”

  “I’m here only because my friend was too busy to go and she gave me her tickets.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But why did you come?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she snapped.

  “I’m just saying.” Todd looked at the fresh cigarette and tucked it away without bothering to try to light it in the downpour. “You should ask him out. I bet he’s into you. God knows he wasn’t into me.”

  “And who could resist you?”

  “Exactly.”

  Caro grinned in spite of herself. “You’re an asshole, Todd.”

  “Exactly.”

  Six

  “Okay,” Turner said as they all dripped across the lobby. The mansion had such a large foyer, it was used as a check-in area. He went behind the large mahogany desk, rummaged around, and produced a printout. “Here’s the guest list for the weekend. Everybody on the island is on this. There’s—”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Aaiigghh!” they all cried, including Turner, who straightened so fast he clutched his head. Todd actually jumped behind Caro.

  They all spun around to look. The manager of the resort was blinking at them from the doorway leading to the kitchen. He was dressed in a tan linen suit and looked like a sleepy Colonel Sanders with his closely trimmed beard and short white hair. His eyes were very blue as he stared at them. “Why are you yelling? And isn’t it getting a little late for all this charging around? I was just about to retire for the night. And why are you all wet? Do you know what these carpets cost?”

  “That’s the owner guy,” Jana said suddenly. “He checked us in this morning.”

  “I remember, miss. Richard Calque,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  “Rich, you’ll never believe this,” Turner said. “One of the guests is dead. I’m glad it’s not you. Best boss I ever had,” he added in a mutter to Lynn, who had sidled over to him.

  “Dana killed him ... remember from lunch? Short, red curly hair, wicked swing? And locked herself in and won’t come out.”

  “What?”

  “I know, I know,” Caro said. “But it’s true.”

  “But who is dead?” Richard asked, looking bewildered.

  “That’s just it. We don’t know. I mean, we know it’s not you,” Caro said, “and we know it’s not Turner. We came up here to get the names of the other guests. We figured we’d track them down and make sure they’re okay.”

  “But the police—”

  “Aren’t coming. Not for a while, anyway. Stupid private island,” Todd mumbled. “Seemed like a good idea at the time ...”

  “But there is a police officer among the guests,” Rich said.

  “Get out of town!” Caro hadn’t expected some good news, not the way things had been going so far. “Really? Who is it?”

  “Okay,” Turner said as Caro, overcome with curiosity, went to him and read over his shoulder. “We got Dana ... check. We got Jana.”

  “Check,” Jana said, dimpling.

  Caro glared at the teenager while Turner continued. “We got Lynn, we got Caro, we got Todd. We got me, we got the boss.”

  “Please,” Rich said modestly, flicking an invisible speck off his spotless sleeve. “Call me Rich.”

  “That leaves the honeymooners—”

  “Right, and the husband’s a Brit,” Todd added. “Great shoes.”

  “I remember,” Lynn said excitedly. “Not the shoes, but I remember because they looked so odd together ... he’s this big strapping fellow, and she’s this little tiny elfin thing; but he’s a little starchy, and she’s got this amazing foul mouth. They disappeared after lunch.” Lynn colored. “You know, honeymoon business.”

  “The cook, Anna Barkmeier—”

  “Room eight,” Caro said, still shamelessly reading over Turner’s (broad) shoulder.

  “And that’s it,” Turner said, looking around at all of them. “Ten of us.”

  “What about the rest of the staff? There’s, like, fifteen bedrooms in this place. There must be more than this.”

  “With only seven guests, I really only need two other people to help me run the mansion,” Rich said mildly. “I haven’t been the owner very long ... it’s a bit of an experiment.”

  “Keep owning it,” Turner ordered.

  “If dead people keep showing up, I’ll likely sell as soon as possible and go see what my niece and nephew-by-m
arriage are up to,” Rich retorted. “How do we know this person is dead, by the way?”

  “They’re dead,” Todd and Caro said in unison.

  “Well, I hope it’s not one of the honeymooners,” Turner said. “They seem like they’re really in love and happy. I don’t want to tell either one of them that the other one is dead.”

  “So let’s go find them,” Caro said.

  Corinne Bullwinkle Daniels was on the brink of a truly profound ... revelation ... when someone started hammering at their door.

  “Ignore it,” her husband, Grant, panted beneath her.

  “Way ahead of you,” she gasped back, but the pounding, if anything, speeded up. Followed by the shrieking.

  Her husband cursed as she climbed off him, then cursed more when she tossed a blanket over him, shrugged into her robe, and yanked the door open. “What?”

  “You’re alive!” the stunning blonde answered. She was wet, muddy, and completely bedraggled ... and looked better that way than Corinne had looked on her wedding day. Not too annoying. “That’s so great!”

  “Thanks. We don’t need any towels. Good-bye,” she said, starting to swing the door shut, but the blonde stuck her foot out.

  Corinne looked down at the foot, then looked up—up, up!—at the tall woman. “Good way to get a fracture, bee-yatch,” she warned.

  “Is your husband all right?” she asked, trying to shove past Corinne.

  “No, he’s not all right, he’s pissed off, and so am I.” Corinne started leaning on the door. “We’re on our honeymoon, fuck you very much, now go away.”

  “Pissed off,” the owner said, peeking over the blonde’s shoulder, “as in, not dead?”

  Corinne gave up, and the door swung open the rest of the way. Grant sat up and tucked the blanket demurely around himself. “What in the world is going on? Corinne, darling, let them in.”

  “Bad idea. Don’t feed any of them,” she said, stepping back, “or they’ll never leave.”

  “We’re dreadfully sorry to bother you, Mrs. Daniels—”

  “Not as sorry as we are,” Corinne grumped.