Sabotage on Solitude Bay

by M. J. Mandrake

  “Bookstore? Have you ever seen Leander’s collection?” Cat asked.

  Kitty wondered if this was a subtle way of asking whether Kitty had visited Leander and she shook her head.

  “Oh, he’s got a thing about old books. Used to come home from yard sales with boxes of them.” She leaned forward to get a better look at the book on Kitty’s lap. “Ah, Jane Eyre. I loved Mr. Rochester, but that crazy wife in the attic part was too awful.” She turned to Leander. “Speaking of crazy exes, Bambi is coming over this afternoon. You might want to prepare your guests, especially the really handsome Mexican.”

  Penny, Elaine, and Kitty looked at Leander for an explanation, but he simply blinked at Cat. “Why?”

  “Why prepare them? You know how she is.”

  “No, I mean why is she coming over?”

  Cat shrugged. “No idea. Mom let it slip when she was out shopping in town that you would be coming for Christmas, so she called up and invited herself over.”

  “Bambi is quite the name,” Penny said. “What were her parents thinking?”

  Kitty cringed at the rude comment, but Cat just laughed.

  “Oh, that’s not her real name. That’s just what I call her. Tiffany has these big brown doe eyes, is really petite and can’t seem to do anything for herself. Nobody wants her on their boat when we go out fishing in the bay. She’s works in some kind of high powered marketing job and has to protect her hands, she says. We were all thrilled when she broke up with Leander.”

  Kitty forced herself to look straight ahead, trying not to change expression. Big brown doe eyes, marketing, petite, gorgeous, and she had broken up with him. It didn’t matter if she had the personality of a toad. It sounded like a recipe for unrequited love.

  “Hey, I thought you said you’d never brought a girl home,” Elaine said, looking offended on Kitty’s behalf.

  “That was true,” Leander said. “I guess you could call us childhood sweethearts. It was a long time ago.”

  Childhood sweethearts. Kitty wondered how it could get any worse. Christmas was a time of reconnecting with friends and family… and old flames.

  Chica bolted upright and walked to the porch door.

  “What’s wrong?” Kitty and Leander both leapt from their rockers peering through the screen. Her heart pounded and she hoped she wasn’t about to see a child choking on a candy, or one of Leander’s parents slumped in a chair, clutching their chest.

  Mr. Weber was standing there, something clutched in his hand.

  Kitty moved back to let him through, and Mrs. Weber followed, eyes wide with fright.

  He held up a battered piece of paper with letters pasted to it, and an old wooden arrow shoved through the center.

  “This was stuck into our pillow,” Mrs. Weber said. “I want to know who is responsible for this. We are supposed to be on a relaxing vacation, not dealing with practical jokes.”

  Leander took it between his fingertips, and set it on the little table near the door. The arrow made the paper tilt awkwardly to the side but they could all still read the message.

  LEaVe noW

  oR

  fACe yoUR MakkER

  “Face my maker? What does that mean? It’s highly inappropriate to have children leaving this kind of thing around,” Mr. Weber said. “It’s not funny at all.”

  Kitty glanced at Leander and he met her gaze. She didn’t even have to ask if any of his little nieces and nephews would ever leave such a note. Chica had been telling her that something terrible was on the horizon from the moment they pulled into the dock.

  As if they needed further proof, Chica pushed her nose between Kitty and Leander, took one sniff of the paper and growled deep in her throat. Her body was stiff and she shoved against Kitty, as if to force Kitty farther away from the offending piece of paper.

  Danger is near, she told them. Death is coming.

  Chapter Five

  “He would make a lovely corpse.” ― Charles Dickens

  They followed the Webers up the long flight of stairs to the third floor. The hallway was painted a light sage green and the Oriental carpets cushioned their footsteps. It was the first time Kitty had been to the top of the inn, even though her room was also on the third floor. Her carry-on bag had been brought up by one of the children as soon as she’d arrived.

  “It is a joke, perhaps?” Jorge asked as they reached the second room on the right.

  Kitty translated for the couple, but they didn’t respond. Swinging open the bedroom door, Mr. Weber stood back to let them file one by one into the room.

  Feathers spilled across the bed and were scattered around the floor. The note hadn’t been gently tucked into the bedding, but stabbed into a pillow, violently. Kitty’s stomach dropped at the sight of the mess.

  Jorge’s eyes went wide. “Not a very funny joke,” he muttered.

  “I’ll call the police,” Mrs. Estornell said. Her rosy cheeks had paled at the sight of the room. “This is terrible. Just terrible.”

  “Wait,” Leander’s father said, reaching out to her. “Let’s wait a little bit and try to understand what is happening here.”

  “What is there to understand? I’m being threatened,” Mr. Weber said. He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t want to call the police because it will look bad for the inn.”

  Leander’s father didn’t deny it. “My son has a degree in forensics and is trained in evidence collection. He works with the American Embassies in Mexico helping to solve crimes. He’s likely more qualified than the officer who will respond to the call.”

  Mr. Weber gave Leander a suspicious look. After what seemed like forever, he nodded. “Fine, he can look through the room before you call the police. But we should leave. Immediately. We can’t stay.” Mr. Weber opened the dresser drawer and started to remove his carefully folded clothing.

  “Sam, dear. We’ve waited years to come here,” Mrs. Weber said. She glanced over at the feathers spilling out of their torn pillow. “This is a terrible beginning, but you promised your father that you would visit The Golden Pelican for Christmas. It was all he talked about. He must have mentioned it a dozen times in his last days. He insisted, and you promised.”

  “He was addled by painkillers,” Mr. Weber said.

  “No, you know that’s not true. He even talked about it when he was awake and aware. He desperately wanted you to come here, just once.” When Mr. Weber didn’t respond, she said, “You’ll regret it if we leave.”

  Exasperated, he turned to her. “You’re right. I did promise. But now I’ve visited and I can go home with a clear conscience.”

  “Did your father have a special connection to Solitude Bay?” Leander asked, pausing in his quiet examination of the room.

  “He never mentioned it until he knew he was dying. Then it seemed to become really important to him. He said he’d been very good friends with a Mr. Perkins. He said it was very important to find him, but when I tried, we discovered he’d died about ten years ago. Honestly, I don’t know why we’re here. His friendship with the man doesn’t have anything to do with us.” Mr. Weber went back to packing.

  “Your parents were kind enough to allow us to visit during the holiday. We thought it would be an easy trip since we were already taking a cruise that would stop in Key West.” Mrs. Weber sighed, offering a small smile to Mrs. Estornell.

  Leander’s mother nodded. “It’s our pleasure to host you. Some of our guests have been coming to Solitude Bay for generations.”

  It was the first time Mrs. Weber expressed gratitude, as far as Kitty could tell, and it started to melt the hard block of judgement she carried against her. Mrs. Weber clearly cared whether her husband was happy, and that made her much more human to Kitty. Before, it seemed they were simply united in their dislike of almost everything.

  Leander walked around the large bedroom, silently taking stock of every small detail, and snapping photos on his phone from every angle. Kitty watched him, wondering what he was thinking. It was one thing to
examine a crime scene as a professional and quite another to see your family’s home violated by a criminal act.

  “Come downstairs,” Mrs. Estornell said, motioning toward the door. “I’ll make you both some carajillo. You need some good Catalan coffee before you make any decisions. You’ve had a real shock.”

  As Kitty translated for Jorge, his smile returned and he whispered to her, “I’ll go with them. Maybe if I look shell shocked I’ll get some of this special coffee, too.”

  Mr. Estornell waited until they left the room. “There is nothing I can do here. I’ll go ask the children if they saw anyone. Let me know what you find.”

  “Okay. And you might make sure that Mamá doesn’t add too much brandy to the carajillo,” Leander added. “A little brandy might help, but overdo it and we’ll have a whole other set of problems.”

  After Mr. Estornell left, Penny said, “I wish we could help. but we haven’t even met everybody. Hard to pick a suspect when you haven’t met them all.”

  Elaine nodded. “I can tell you that no child did that, unless they’re a troubled teenager. Kids love pranks, but this looks… violent.”

  “I think you’re right,” Leander said, his brows drawn together.

  “We’ll just be in the way up here. We’re going to take Jack and Toto for a walk. Do you want us to take Chica?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Chica hadn’t reacted to anything in the room since her episode downstairs. She seemed anxious but not alarmed as she sat beside Kitty.

  He paused near the large window and looked out at Solitude Bay. Kitty came to stand beside him. Small sailboats were visible in the distance and fluffy clouds dotted the pale blue sky. The white sand seemed to glow in the sun. Palm trees stood sentry at the gate leading from Solitude Bay to The Golden Pelican. It was paradise. Or would be if not for the creepy note threatening an untimely murder.

  “This isn’t exactly what I envisioned for our first day,” he said.

  “Bad luck follows me wherever I go.”

  “I thought we already decided it wasn’t you.”

  “Well, it’s not you, is it?”

  “Maybe it’s both of us together?” He grimaced. “Unhappy thought. Let’s forget I said that.”

  “Agreed.” Kitty stepped back from the window and leaned over the bed, looking for any clue as to who would leave such a note. The quilt was undisturbed except for the feathers and the furniture seemed fine other than where Mr. Weber had been hastily pulling out his clothing. “I wish I hadn’t had that Long Island Iced Tea. My brain feels fuzzy and it’s a bad time to not be on my toes.”

  Leander was examining the window sills. “I’ll protect you,” he said in a dramatic, mock hero voice. “Don’t worry your fuzzy little head about anything.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kitty laughed. “I keep thinking of that quote about how it’s best to arrive to your death late, in love, and a little drunk.”

  He looked over at her. “In love?”

  Kitty took a sudden interest in the books sitting on a small shelf near the bed. “I wonder why Mr. Weber’s father was so insistent that he visit. His friend was already dead. What did he expect him to find here?”

  “Hard to say. Sometimes the places we were the happiest are what we remember best at the end of our lives.”

  “Or the unhappiest,” Kitty said. She had good memories of her life in Indiana; mostly the rows of cornfields in summer, sledding down snowy hills, and singing carols. But sometimes she was afraid her bad memories outweighed the good.

  “True. Maybe the threat is tied to an old grievance.” He crouched down and looked at the carpet near the bedside table. “But if it’s something from fifty years ago, our perpetrator must have the memory of an elephant. That’s a long time to hold on to a grudge.”

  “Or perhaps he has a normal memory, but was very wronged.”

  Opening the bedside table, he asked, “You sound like you know what that’s like.”

  “Do I?” Kitty was surprised. Maybe her voice betrayed more than she thought. Maybe her anger leaked out between the words without her knowing.

  “No?” He stood up. The afternoon sun shone through the window and his eyes seemed even more startling than usual. Piercing was the word that sprang to her mind.

  She knew she would have to tell him some day. She’d have to explain how she was so naïve, so innocent that she had believed all the lies and excuses. How she’d ignored the obvious signs right in front of her and was blind to what was so clear. How her family and all her friends had known. Everyone but her. Stupid, stupid Kitty.

  Leander shifted his feet and Kitty realized that she’d been standing silent as the seconds passed. “You know, the older I get, the less angry I am at what happened,” she said. “And the more irritated I am that I have to own it. I can be as Jane Eyre as I want, but it doesn’t change anything.” At his puzzled expression, she quoted, “I am no bird and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being with an independent will.”

  “Right,” he said, but he clearly wasn’t following what she was saying.

  “I mean freedom and being free to rewrite history are two different things.” She shrugged. She probably wasn’t making any sense at all. “I’m just irritated that it’s part of my story.”

  “Most people would just lie, you know. They would simply deny that anything that didn’t fit with their current image had ever happened and move on,” he said, smiling. “That’s what I love about you.”

  It was the second time the ‘L’ word had come up in the past few minutes. After Kitty’s heart stopped doing a jig around her rib cage, she wondered if Leander could be right. For years, she’d seen her decision to move to the Yucatan as avoiding the heartbreak in her past, but maybe she’d taken such a drastic step because she couldn’t lie to herself. It made her feel a little better to think she might not be quite so psychologically unhealthy.

  “Kitty,” he said, stepping close to her and taking her hand. “You know―”

  A light knock at the door made them both jump. One of Leander’s sisters was standing there, a bemused expression on her face. She had the Estornell dark hair and high cheekbones, but looked taller and younger than the other sisters, like a female Leander. “I’ve come to survey the damage,” she signed.

  “Hey, come on in,” Leander said. “We’re just looking around for anything out of order. Besides the feathers.”

  “Is that what you were doing?” She gave him a wink and walked carefully around the perimeter of the large room. “Papá was asking around, quietly, and nobody saw anyone up here. The kids brought up the bags and went off to play in the pool. I wish we knew what time the Webers arrived exactly. They say one o’clock. Someone else said noon. That Mexican guy with the nice hair said twelve-thirty. It could give us a better time frame.”

  “Are you also in law enforcement?” Kitty asked.

  “Me? Heavens no. That would be a lot more interesting than what I do. Luisa Estornell, child torturer.” She held out her hand. “I’m applying for another position, but right now I administer vaccines for eight hours a day, every day, at the county health department.”

  Kitty grimaced as she shook her hand. “I hope it pays well.”

  “Not enough. If I died and woke up in hell, it might be a few weeks before I knew I was dead.” She smiled. “But everything is temporary, that’s my motto.”

  “There are medical jobs on cruise ships,” Kitty said. “If you ever want to explore the option, I could show you around.”

  “Oh, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m probably better suited to life on land. I like my routine.” She walked over to the wall and crouched down to look at the large brass heating vent. “This one goes right into the room below, doesn’t it?”

  “I think so. And the room next door has a secret passageway,” Leander said.

  “Next door that direction?” Kitty asked, pointing. “I think that one is mine.”

  “Here, I’ll show you,” Luisa said
. They followed her down the hallway, through the large, unlocked wooden door, and into a lovely, sunlit room.

  A wrought iron bedframe, small shelf filled with books, antique dresser, lace curtains, a rocker, and several handmade quilts made the room seem cozy and homey, while the pale blue and white color scheme gave it a feeling of airy comfort. There was even a large, new-looking dog bed for Chica. Kitty moved the curtains aside and looked out on Solitude Bay. She never thought she would feel as at home in a place as she did in Mérida, but this place had captured her imagination.

  “It’s right beside you,” Luisa signed, pointing to Kitty’s left.

  She looked around at the deep window seat. A few more inches and it would be a perfect reading spot. She didn’t see any doors, small or large. “Where?”

  Leander lifted the curtain away from the wall. “Here,” he said. There was a little door set inside the window ledge, invisible from the middle of the room but obvious to someone who was looking closely. Kitty could see the hinges and a little doorknob. It was large enough for a small adult to get into, and definitely large enough for children to want to explore.

  “If I open this, will it be full of spiders?” she asked.

  “Probably. We haven’t played around with these things for ages. When we were kids, we always passed notes through the vents. Sometimes we’d crawl through the little passageways to others rooms, putting frogs in each other’s beds or trying to scare each other in the middle of the night,” Leander said, grinning. “Cat had a whole chain-rattling routine she’d put on for our cousins in the summertime.”

  “Remember that boy that Evie brought home from college?” Luisa asked, starting to laugh. “I bet he never recovered from the scare we gave him.”

  Kitty was afraid to ask what exactly they’d done to him. She forced a smile, hoping they were all a lot more mature now. Just in case, she’d be checking her bed before she got in tonight.

  Turning the little glass knob, Kitty pulled the small door open and ducked her head to look inside. There were no cobwebs or dust visible on the small stairs case leading down. Kitty swiped a finger across the first step. It was clean except for a little bit of sand. Turning on her phone’s flashlight function, she aimed it downward into the darkness.