Sabotage on Solitude Bay

by M. J. Mandrake

  “I used to spend every day out here fishing in the summer. Red snapper, tuna, sailfish,” he said. “Sometimes I’d go alone, sometimes with a few friends from the neighborhood. It’s a resort area, so mostly everybody is a tourist, but sometimes there’d be kids my own age.”

  Kitty faced the sea, imagining what it was like to spend so much time on the water. A cruise ship was a like a floating city and hardly counted. You could spend a whole week without ever seeing the water.

  “My dad says when he was a kid, most of the houses were residential. His friends grew up on the water, too.”

  “That would be nice to live year round on the bay,” she said.

  “Well, he was only here for the summer. He boarded at the Florida School for the Deaf and Blind.”

  Kitty had heard of the school, of course. The biggest in America, it wasn’t far away in St. Augustine. A huge complex of almost fifty buildings, it was famous for its rigorous studies and extracurricular activities. “Is that where he met your mother?”

  Leander shook his head and handed her a pole. “Arranged marriage.”

  She choked back an incredulous sound. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Kitty looked up at the clear blue sky and tried to frame her next sentence. It wasn’t really on the list of questions she’d ever asked a man. Do you want kids? Do you like dogs? Have your parents ordered you a wife?

  He was grinning at her. “Something you’d like to say?”

  “Is… Is that a thing in Catalan culture? Have they picked somebody out for you?”

  The smile slid from his face. “Not what I was expecting you to ask.”

  “So… that’s a yes?”

  “Kitty,” he said, sounding exasperated. “Would I be here with you if I had a wife waiting somewhere else?”

  “Well…”

  His eyebrows went up and he shook his head. “Interesting.” He went back to setting fresh shrimp on the hooks and checking the lines.

  She swallowed hard. She could tell her lack of faith had hurt him deeply. The sunny day suddenly felt cold and dark. Chica lifted her head and gave Kitty a questioning look, as if she could feel the tension and hurt feelings.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  He looked up and nodded, but his mouth was set in a tight line. It clearly wasn’t going to be okay with a simple apology.

  “I used to be engaged,” she said. The second the words were out of her mouth, she wanted them back. It was a story she didn’t want to tell.

  Leander stopped working on the poles and waited for her to continue.

  “A few weeks before the wedding, I stopped by his apartment with some homemade oatmeal cookies. With cranberries, not raisins. His favorite.” Not important. Keep going. “I was supposed to be out of town for another day.”

  “Kitty,” he said again and this time he sounded pained.

  “My best friend answered my knock.” Kitty could see it all as if it were yesterday. Sherri was mid-laugh as she swung open the door. “In my fiancé’s shirt and nothing else.”

  Leander dropped the shrimp back into the bucket and came to wrap an arm around her, careful not to get shrimp water in her hair. Kitty breathed into his shirt for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun and the solidness of him, then she lifted her head. “It’s okay. I’m over it.”

  “Not if you think I might have a mail order bride lurking in the wings.”

  She laughed. “True.” The tiller pushed against her hand and she slowly turned the little boat toward the open sea.

  “Something I don’t understand, though,” he said as the wind filled the sails with a snap. “Why would she answer the door like that? Weren’t they trying to hide it?”

  “Everybody knew.” Kitty shrugged.

  “Everybody?” His voice was faint.

  “Yeah. My parents, my brother, his friends, my friends.”

  Leander muttered something in Catalan and then said, “I can see why you left.”

  “I needed a change of scenery. Chica helped a lot.” Kitty remembered how Chica had given her purpose in those dark days when nothing seemed for certain. Uncomplicated, sincere, and never hiding a thing, Chica gave her back her faith in humanity. Or, at least, canines.

  “Sorry for dumping all of that on you,” she said.

  “Don’t be.” He leaned back and looked her in the eye. “Let me just say, if I ever, ever tried anything like that, you would know. All my sisters and all my in-laws would tell you to your face. And my parents would have my skin. That’s not the kind of people we are. We don’t keep secrets.” He gave her a kiss and moved back to the poles. “And don’t go back there. Those people don’t deserve you.”

  Kitty laughed. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it. But…” She shrugged. “Family is complicated. Someday I should visit.”

  He shook his head. “Well, don’t go alone. I’ll go with you.”

  Smiling, Kitty looked out onto the bay. The little fleets of sailboats dotted the bright blue waters. She could hear the laughter of children on the breeze. She wondered whether Jorge was surviving Tiffani’s attentions.

  She’d kept that part of her story away for Leander for so long, Kitty had a hard time believing it was finally over. Relief was flooding into that place where she’d been sheltering the memory of those terrible years. Chica rested her head on Kitty’s knee and closed her eyes, perfectly at ease. Kitty wondered if Chica was easily adaptable and would have done just as well as a service dog for someone who worked in a basement. Or if there was something in her that was drawn to the sea, like Kitty.

  “Okay,” he said, latching the poles into place. “Let’s go a little further and then drop anchor.” He checked his watch. “Michael caught some wahoo early this morning. It’s not really the right time, but maybe they’ll be nice to us.”

  “Wahoos?”

  “I forget how weird these names are.” He smiled. “Best fishing for wahoo is five days before the full moon and five days after. They like the low spots in the reef, and we’re not really close, but the warm Gulf Stream is pushing up against…” His voice trailed off. “Just tell me when to quit.”

  “Why do you do that?” Kitty said, laughing. “I’m listening.” She pointed to her face. “This is an interested expression.”

  “Well, maybe I’ve bored too many women with my fishing knowledge. I’ve learned to have a few other topics to discuss.”

  “I guess I get that. My fiancé was into baseball. It got really old.”

  “What was his name?” Leander asked.

  She only hesitated for a moment. It had been a long time since she’d said his name. “Bob.” Kitty laughed at his expression of surprise.

  “Bob? That’s a little anticlimactic. Not really a good name for a villain. ‘Hi, I’m Bob. I ruin lives.’ No, it doesn’t really work for me.”

  “That’s true. It should have been something really nefarious. But then I would have known to avoid him.”

  Leander said something in Catalan. “That’s what I’ll call him.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, I’d tell you, but then I’d have to apologize for using foul language.” He looked around at the bay. “Let’s head into the wind and drop the sails. I’ll run the motor to make sure we’ve got some push, otherwise it’s a bit bumpy.”

  Kitty put a hand on Chica’s life vest. “Ready.”

  A few minutes later, Leander cut the engine and they were coasting to a stop.

  “I think this is a good―”

  A scream split the air and Chica leaped to her feet, barking. A ship horn sounded, long and deep.

  “There!” Leander said, pointing. The smaller of the two large ships was listing badly and the figures on the boat were waving for help.

  Leander met her eyes and she knew what he was thinking.

  The threat hadn’t been empty after all. Sabotage had struck Solitude Bay.

  Chapter Nine

  “A friend of mine stopped s
moking, drinking, overeating, and chasing women all at the same time. It was a lovely funeral.”

  ―Unknown

  Hours later, after the police and coast guard had gone away, and Leander’s mother had been satisfied that everyone was healthy and dry, Kitty found a quiet spot at the garden. She tried reading a little Jane Eyre, but even the shocking moment of Mr. Rochester’s near-death by burning couldn’t hold her attention. She stared out at the bay. The sun was just going down and the sky was shot through with purple and gold but she couldn’t enjoy it.

  Chica pressed close to her side and Kitty ran her fingers through Chica’s fur. The rescue had gone as well as expected. Maybe if Michael had been fishing out there alone, like he had been that morning before dawn, it would have been a lot worse. As it was, the herd of small sailboats rushed to save all of the passengers, and the only tragedy had been the boat sinking into the bay. Michael, Liliana and their kids had gone to the new house to clean up. Jorge was shaken and but said he was happy he could now he’d survived a shipwreck. Tiffani was still in the living room, retelling the story for the tenth time. At first Kitty had hoped she’d noticed something that would be useful, but the only details Tiffani remembered were about how she’d found the seats uncomfortable and how her drink hadn’t been cold enough.

  Even though it was still warm, Kitty shivered. Somewhere, someone wanted to harm them. It wasn’t a new situation for her, but it was worse because they weren’t sure who was the target. Maybe one of them, or maybe everyone.

  She sighed. The resort was truly one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been, but once again, evil had ruined what would have been a perfect day.

  “Hey there,” Leander said softly from behind her. “Need company? And it’s okay to say no.”

  “I’d love some.”

  He settled down on the grass beside her. “Michael says they found a note in their ship’s cabin, too, but thought it was a prank. It went down with the boat, but he remembered it said something like ‘I warned you to go away’.”

  Kitty felt a rush of relief. “So, even if we’d told everyone about the one we’d found in your boat―”

  “Michael’s ship was already tampered with and was taking on water.”

  Kitty looked out at the darkening sky, turning over the possibilities in her mind. A movement caught her eye and she saw Mr. Candlewick emerge from the hedges between the two properties. He walked a few yards before he noticed them sitting there on the grass. His surprise was almost comical but Kitty didn’t laugh.

  Leander raised a hand and Mr. Candlewick nodded as he changed direction and headed toward The Golden Pelican. As he passed, Kitty could see the man looked exhausted. He must be nearing seventy and as far as Kitty could tell, was doing all the upkeep of a very large property.

  “Do you have any other groundskeeper than Mr. Candlewick?” Kitty asked softly.

  “Not really. Sometimes he’ll supervise a crew of teens for a day or so, just to get cleaned up in the spring, but he’s proud of taking care of the place alone. He’s been here forever, before any of us kids were born. He was related to the Perkins family, but when Mr. Perkins Sr. died, he stayed on here after the properties were split.”

  Kitty faced the old Perkins home and watched the windows. She thought of the movement she’d seen at the curtains that morning. There were no cars visible in the driveway, and even though the sun had gone down, there were no lights on in the house. “Is he employed by them take care of the Perkins’ property, too?”

  “I don’t think so. If he does, he’s not doing a very good job. That garden is a jungle. Not sure about the inside of the house, though. Maybe it’s okay. I haven’t been in it since I was little.” He smiled. “I’ve seen pictures of the houses from way back in the forties when they bought the property. Perfect, like seeing double.” “Where they built at the same time?”

  “Eighteen eighty six, by two brothers who had come into some money. The fun part is that it’s exactly the same inside, all the way down to the carpet and the wallpaper. Mark Perkins had a room on the third floor that faced my dad’s room, and he said they used flashlights to send Morse code messages back and forth in the summer. Just funny stuff, like ‘you stink’ and ‘you have a face like a monkey’s behind’.”

  Kitty smiled, thinking of two little boys working on the best insults they could deliver by dots and dashes. “What were the senior Mr. and Mrs. Perkins like?”

  “I don’t remember Mrs. Perkins except for her being in the kitchen a lot. She made some really great cakes, especially at Christmas. Mr. Perkins and my grandfather were always together. Fishing, greeting guests, taking the kids out on the bay in the boats.”

  “So they stayed good friends until they died?”

  Leander nodded. “Best friends. Always. And after Mr. Perkins died, my grandfather was never quite the same again. When Mark refused to sell the house, it was like my grandfather lost Mr. Perkins all over again, and he died soon after.”

  Kitty looked at the gables and turrets of the darkened mansion. “So strange that they never use it,” she murmured.

  “It really is. Such a prime piece of real estate and it just sits there empty. It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know what he’s waiting for. Mark is an only child so it couldn’t be hung up in a legal battle between siblings.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “I don’t know. In Atlanta, I think. Works in real estate as far as I know.”

  Kitty gazed out on the grounds. It made even less sense that a man who knew the value of real estate would leave a property like that empty. “Maybe it’s a tax haven.”

  “That could be it,” he agreed. “Claiming it as a business loss might work.”

  They were quiet for a while, the only sound was the faraway murmur of the waves tumbling onto the beach. “I’m afraid what tonight will bring,” Kitty whispered.

  He held her tighter. “I know. I really don’t feel like anybody is safe here right now. Maybe you should go to a hotel.”

  “No way,” Kitty said, turning around to give him a shocked expression. She tried not to be offended. “This person is going to make a mistake soon and we’re going to be there to catch them. With Chica on our side, he can’t possibly get away with anything else.”

  “But can we catch him before he does something really awful? He’s already sunk a boat. My nieces were on there. I would have gone to pieces if anything had happened to them. And my sister would never survive the loss of her kids…” Kitty felt a faint tremor go through him at the thought. “This place is old. It wouldn’t take much to burn it down or start a gas leak.”

  Kitty grimaced. “Well, when you put it that way.”

  “Do you want me to call around?”

  “No, I’m staying, but we’ll definitely be checking the gas lines.”

  “I asked my mom if she still wanted to go ahead with putting out the lights tonight and she said ‘yes’. We’ll decorate the boats and the pier, but stay on the beach, where it’s safer. The kids will have their sparklers and we’ll put out the candles like we always do.”

  Kitty smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. “It sounds wonderful.”

  “And then after dinner, the kids will beat Tió de Nadal until presents fall out.”

  “Wait. Who are they beating?”

  “I don’t know if you noticed the log in the living room, the one with a face painted on the end, sticks for legs and a blanket over the top.”

  “Oh, I think I did see that. Over by the fireplace? I thought one of the kids had made it for a craft or something.”

  “It’s a tradition we have. Starting on December 8th, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, we put out ‘Christmas Uncle’. The kids are supposed to feed him a little every day, making sure he’s not cold, and generally making him happy. And then on the night before Christmas Eve, they beat him until he unloads everything he’s eaten that month, but it’s in the form of gifts.”

  Kitty couldn’t keep
a straight face. “So, while most kids were putting out cookies and milk for Santa, you were beating a log until it―”

  “Pooped out presents,” he said nodding. “Even better than a piñata, right?”

  “Much,” Kitty said. “But how does it happen? The pooping, I mean. There must be some trick to it.”

  “Well, after the kids have all taken a whack at Tió de Nadal, the parents tell them to go into another room to pray that he manages to get rid of all that food. That’s when they put the gifts under the blanket.”

  “How―” Kitty couldn’t stop laughing long enough to ask her question. “How do all the presents fit under the blanket? You must have a dozen nieces and nephews.”

  “Oh, the bigger presents come on Epiphany. The Three Wisemen bring them. These are little, like candies,” he said. “Dried figs, nougats, chocolates. There’s a rude song that goes a long with it and I’m going to apologize in advance in case anybody sings it.”

  “Well, if they sign it in Catalan, I won’t be able to tell what they’re saying.” It took several minutes for her to stop laughing. Leaning her head back on his shoulder, she let out a long breath. “That’s great. All of it.”

  “Is it?” he asked. “I forgot to mention how we’re all expected to go to midnight Mass tomorrow. Which is at midnight, if that wasn’t clear.”

  “I’ll be sure to get some coffee so I won’t sleep through it.”

  “Just not the carajillo. That’ll really put you to sleep.” He kissed the top of her head. “The little kids usually pass out after an hour or so. We all walk in together, but at the end we struggle out of there like soldiers carrying fallen comrades off the battlefield.”

  “You said they pass out after an hour. How long is the service exactly?”

  “Oh, maybe two and a half hours. And then there’s a dinner after. The Catalan people take Christmas very seriously. It’s like a marathon. But you don’t have to go. I’m sure everyone would understand if you didn’t.”

  Kitty gave him another look. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Who wouldn’t want to go? It sounds wonderful and I can’t wait.”