A Haunting Refrain: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 4)

by Patricia H. Rushford

  "Where is Richard going?" Claire joined her at the rail.

  "To rest. He's not feeling well."

  “Hmm. He doesn't look good, does he?"

  "He just told me Sandra is filing for divorce."

  Claire gripped the rail and leaned back, drawing in a deep breath of sea air. Tendrils of hair whipped around at her face. "I'm not surprised. Their relationship has been strained the last couple of years. Neither of them has said anything about it, but they wouldn't, at least not to me. I wonder why she's coming to Paradise. You'd think if she was leaving she'd stay away."

  "Perhaps they're still trying to work things out."

  "More than likely she's wanting to see how much Richard inherits before she signs the divorce papers."

  "Don't you think you're being rather hard on her?"

  "Hard? Humph. The woman is all about money." Claire glanced up at the flybridge and swallowed her retort. "Megan, are you all right? Do you need to lie down?"

  "I'm fine." Megan descended to the main deck. "Grandpa wants to speak with Helen privately."

  Claire arched her eyebrows. "Uh-oh. Looks like you're the one in trouble for a change."

  "Me? I haven't been here long enough to get into trouble." She pushed away from the railing and headed up the steps.

  "Oh, I almost forgot. He wants you to bring him a beer."

  Helen headed for the galley, grabbed a drink for herself and Paddy, then made her way topside.

  "Helen, me girl. Have a seat." She climbed up in the first mate's chair and handed Paddy a can.

  He grimaced. "What's this?"

  "You ordered beer."

  "Not root beer." He set the unopened can aside. "You expect me to drink that stuff? Now, be a darling lass and get me the real thing."

  "I can't do that, Admiral. It's against the law to drink and drive."

  "I'm not driving."

  "Paddy, you of all people should be aware of marine laws."

  "Shouldn't be a law."

  "Uncle Paddy, I'm surprised at you."

  He chuckled, looking for all the world like a mischievous leprechaun. "Helen, me girl, I know all about the law. I'm just having some fun with you. I'm not drinking the real thing any­more. Leastwise not while I'm piloting the boat. If you'll check in the icebox, you'll find some O'Doul's."

  Helen exchanged his drink, then settled back into the chair beside him and opened her own can of Diet Coke. "Now that we have the beverage situation under control, what did you want to talk to me about?"

  He glanced back at the stairs. "There're two things. First, I want you to know I've made you executor of my will."

  Helen opened her mouth to protest.

  Paddy held up a hand to silence her. "Please don't say no. I've thought it all out and talked it over with Greg. You're the best person for the job. The second reason I asked you to come has to do with those 'accidents' you were all so curious about." Leaning closer to her, he said, "They weren't accidents, none of them. Sure as we're sitting here, someone wants me dead.”

  Chapter Seven

  Someone wants you dead?" Helen repeated. "Then why have you been telling everyone they were accidents?" The revelation didn't surprise her, but Paddy's clandestine behavior did. He usually spoke his mind and didn't care who heard it.

  "I couldn't see worrying them. There's another reason too. I'm afraid one of them might be wanting to hurry my death along so they can collect their inheritance."

  "You can't be serious. Claire and Richard wouldn't do that."

  "Not necessarily them. I'm thinking more along the lines of their spouses. Or in Megan's case, her boyfriend."

  "What makes you so sure they weren't accidents?"

  "I knew the minute the fishing boat started taking on water. Someone had drilled holes in the boat and plugged them with clay or something like it. She stayed afloat until the water broke the stuff down.

  "By the time I realized what was going on, I was several miles out. I managed to row to within swimming distance of one of the smaller islands. Whoever drilled the holes drained out most of my gas so I'd run out. They wanted to make sure I wouldn't make it back in."

  "Have you gone to the police?"

  "Only about the gunshot. I'm still thinking it might have been a poacher. Didn't tell them about the other."

  "I can't imagine why. Someone tried to drown you."

  "I want you to handle it, Helen."

  "Me? But I'm retired."

  "That's not the way I hear it."

  "All right, then, semi-retired."

  "You won't be denying a man his dying wishes, now, will ye?"

  "You are not dying."

  "Everyone is dying." The teasing twinkle appeared for a moment, then was gone. "Did Claire tell you about that scallywag husband of hers?"

  Helen nodded. "Yes. Are you thinking he has something to do with this?"

  "Maybe. A real disappointment he turned out to be. Came out here talking like he really meant to buy the place and run it. I'd have sold it to them, too, then he upped and cleaned out my safe and disappeared."

  "Yes, Jason tells me there's a warrant out for his arrest. Claire thinks he's innocent. Are you sure he's the one who robbed you?”

  A frown deepened his wrinkles. "Don't know who else it could have been. Aside from a half dozen workers, Fabian, Greg, Richard, and Hillary were the only ones out there that day."

  "That's quite a list. Could it have been stolen before that?"

  He frowned and took a sip of his drink. "Well, now, you could have something there. I opened it that day to give Richard a loan. Don't normally do that. Now that you mention it, I don't think I'd been into the safe for three or four days before that. Lengthens my suspect list considerably, doesn't it?"

  "Why don't you make a list of the people who've been out to the island over the last week?"

  "No need to do that. My security man keeps a log."

  "Well, that's a start, isn't it? I wonder if the robbery and attempts on your life are connected."

  Paddy shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. My suspicion is that Claire's husband took the cash and ran. I doubt he'd stick around to do away with me."

  "What about the incident today?" Helen watched a pair of sea lions peering at them as Paddy opened the throttle and headed for open waters. Anacortes and the Cascade Mountains now lay behind them, and the San Juan archipelago lay ahead.

  When Paddy didn't answer, Helen turned back toward him. He apparently hadn't heard her, or hadn't wanted to.

  "What's going on up there?" Claire shouted from below to be heard over the engines. "Is it a private party or can I join you?

  "Come on up." Paddy gave Helen a conspiratorial wink, reminding her that their discussion was to go no further. "We're just enjoying the view."

  Putting her thoughts on hold, Helen glanced toward the back of the boat. "Where is Megan?"

  "Inside. Said she was going to stretch out on the couch and take a nap."

  For the next half hour, Paddy gave them the guided tour. Even though she had ferried through the San Juan Islands many times, Helen still enjoyed hearing about their history. They were an archipelago of 172 islands, discovered and named in 1790 by Spanish explorers, which accounted for the Spanish names like Lopez and San Juan. Other explorers from the U.S. and Great Britain followed.

  In 1859 the United States and Britain both claimed the islands. The dispute nearly turned to all-out war when a U.S. settler killed a pig belonging to a Canadian. The skirmish became known as the Pig War, and Orcas Island eventually became home to the Pig War Museum. The problem was finally resolved in 1872 when the San Juan Islands were awarded to the U.S.

  The borders were eventually established between Canada and the U.S. The boundary zigzagged through the waters, leaving most of the islands on one side or the other. Paradise was apparently too small to worry about and the line went down the middle. Douglas Werner, being a bit of a rebel, built his castle on the line. Thus he essentially lived in both countries, or one or
the other when it suited him.

  Helen watched an eagle swoop down into the water and emerge with a red salmon. She imagined herself as an early explorer. What a thrill it must have been to breathe in the fresh, crisp, unpolluted sea air, peruse the blue depths for submerged tentacles of land, and delight in whales and dolphins racing and playing in their wake.

  Off to their left loomed the Olympic Mountain range, and ahead just to her right she could see the magnificent peaks of Canada's vast wilderness. It truly was a paradise.

  "Ever stay at the Rosario, Helen?" Paddy asked as they passed the famous resort on Orcas Island.

  "No, but I've always wanted to."

  "It's nice. However, Werner Castle is far superior."

  Claire laughed. "Now, Dad. Rosario is a wonderful resort. Comparing the two is like comparing apples and oranges. It's Greg's favorite, next to the castle, of course." She hesitated, then added, "By the way, where is Greg? I thought he was coming."

  "He is, but probably won't make it out until tomorrow morning. Had some business on the mainland."

  The resort in question sat in a quiet harbor, pristine white and glistening in the sun. Perhaps when J.B. arrived, Helen thought, the two of them could stay in the area for a few days, maybe drive to Canada and take the ferry to Vancouver Island and visit the Butchart Gardens and stay at the Empress Hotel in Victoria. She imagined herself in the elegant surroundings en­joying high tea with the love of her life. Coming back, they'd stop at Rosario. A minor detail she'd conveniently forget to mention to Paddy.

  They continued on between Orcas and Shaw Islands, and a grouping of islands so close a person could easily row from one to the other. Within an hour they could see the forest green mound of Paradise Island in the distance. Claire suggested they move to the bow for a better view.

  Standing at the rail, Helen tipped back her head and closed her eyes, reveling in the bright warm sun and cool wind. The water, rougher now, lifted them up and down as they crashed through the gentle swells.

  She directed her gaze once again to the island with the outline that resembled the back of a camel. Paradise looked dark and uninhabited, a clump of forest and rock. As they drew closer, the landscape revealed high rugged cliffs dropping from twenty- to fifty-foot heights into the ocean. Helen spotted two caves in the cliff face and pointed them out to Claire.

  She nodded. "I've wanted to explore those."

  "Looks dangerous.” Helen said, “I wouldn't take a boat too close. It could break up on the rocks."

  "I was thinking more in terms of using a raft or climbing down from above. Would you like to explore with me? Tomorrow maybe?"

  Helen eyed the narrow openings again. "I'll admit I'm curious, but I'm not sure it's wise."

  "Spoilsport."

  "Uh-huh. And just why is it you haven't explored them before now?"

  "Helen McGrady, I mean Bradley, the only times I've ever done anything remotely crazy have been with you. You bring out my adventurous spirit."

  That wasn't quite true. Helen slipped an arm around her cousin's shoulders and squeezed, not bothering to correct her. "We always were crazy together, weren't we? Okay, no promises, but we'll look into it."

  "Good."

  Paddy veered north toward Point Roberts, following the coastline around Paradise Island. The island, though small, had everything including a mountain, at least one waterfall (Claire told her it had three) and a section of lush emerald pastureland on the northernmost tip, where several llamas grazed. Helen commented on them.

  "Dad keeps them as pack animals for the guests who want to hike around the island or camp overnight. The guests love them."

  "I'll bet. They're fascinating creatures. Where is the castle?" Paddy had nearly circled the island, yet so far Helen had seen no sign of life except for the llamas and a small barn near the pasture.

  "Be patient. The admiral is saving the best for last. You're getting the guest tour." Claire nudged her and pointed to a portion of a steep copper roof, aged to turquoise green.

  Rounding the bend was like entering another time zone. The castle came into view, and Helen was awestruck by the magnificent structure. It sat atop a hill, its windows glistening in the setting sun like gemstones. Paddy sailed closer, and then made his way through a narrow inlet that widened to reveal a small marina at the end of a long inviting stretch of beach. The beach sloped up to meet a wide expanse of lawn and manicured gardens.

  "What do you think of her?" Paddy shouted from his perch on the bridge.

  "I love it!" She nodded her approval and turned back to the picturesque setting. "Oh, Claire, it is lovely. I can understand why Paddy would want to retire here and why you would want to buy it."

  Claire didn't respond. A tear dripped down her cheek and onto her denim shirt, leaving a small dark circle. Helen wrapped a comforting arm around her cousin, making a silent promise to find the scoundrel who had left her so unhappy.

  "Did you see that?" Claire straightened and pointed toward the castle.

  "What?" Helen looked in the direction Claire indicated.

  "That balcony, the highest one at the peak. The door is open. I thought I saw someone."

  Helen shaded her eyes and caught sight of curtains billowing in the wind.

  "It's her. She's come to see who we've brought to visit."

  "Who?"

  Claire stared transfixed at the balcony. "Mary," she breathed. "The ghost of Werner Castle."

  "Don't be silly. It's probably just a guest needing a little air."

  "No." Claire shook her head. "There are no guests right now. This week is reserved for us." Her gaze shifted reluctantly back to Helen. "Even if there were, no one would be using that floor. It's Mary's room, Helen. It's the room where she died."

  Chapter Eight

  When Helen looked up at the balcony again, the door was closed. She saw no sign of the billowing curtains or of any ghosts. Not that she believed in them, of course. Still, the epi­sode had left her hair standing on end.

  "She's gone." Claire rubbed her arms. "I think she’s trying to tell us something."

  Helen tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice when she responded. "Claire, are you sure it wasn't Hillary or a maid?"

  "I'm sure. Hillary is terrified of that room. She won't even set foot on the fifth floor. None of our maids are willing to clean up there. Most of the help is gone now anyway. Through the winter Dad has them come only as we need them." Claire's hand shook as she reached for Helen's arm. "I know what you're thinking. I might, too, if I were you. I can't explain it. Maybe I'm imagining things. I don't know. A moment ago I could have sworn that Mary was trying to communicate with me. Now I'm not so sure."

  Ordinarily Helen might have laughed or at least made some witty remark, but the look on Claire's face held no hint that she might be joking or pulling Helen's leg. Either her cousin gen­uinely believed what she was saying or she'd missed a great opportunity as a performer.

  "I prefer to think one of the hired help is responsible” Helen squeezed Claire’s arm. “In fact, I'm willing to bet on it. Remember what you were saying about our doing adventurous things together? Well, once we get settled in, let's go up there and look around."

  She brightened. "Yes. What a wonderful idea. We'll protect each other. Not that I'm afraid of her, or of ghosts in general."

  Helen grinned. "It's a date, then. When shall we do it? While it's still daylight, or tonight, when everyone's gone to bed?"

  "Before dark. The castle is too spooky at night with all of its creaks and groans."

  "All right. We'll put our things away and head up there. We still have a couple hours of daylight." Glancing at her watch, she asked, "When is dinner?"

  "Paddy likes to keep with tradition. We always dress for dinner. Not formal or anything. He just doesn't want us coming in jeans. We won't eat until eight."

  "Plenty of time, then."

  Helen switched her focus from the castle and its ghost to the small marina they were fast approaching
.

  Claire intercepted her thoughts before she could ask about it. "Paddy built the marina for guests who arrive by boat. He also provides canoes, kayaks, and rowboats for guests who enjoy the water. He even takes them fishing or sailing."

  Looking back the way they'd come in, Helen could no longer see the passage that had allowed them access. The long waterway had become a lagoon of sorts, protected from the strong winds. "My goodness, how does he keep up with all that?"

  "Oh, he doesn't always go along. He has a crew."

  One of the crew members, an attractive young man Claire introduced as Peter, met them at the dock. He wore blue jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his tan and muscled arms. Peter secured Paddy's Pride to its moorings and grinned up at Claire and Helen. "Welcome to Paradise." He bowed slightly and held out his hand to help Claire disembark.

  His blue eyes and the dark hair curling over his collar made him look like a hero on the cover of a Regency romance. When he reached for Helen, she put up a hand to stop him.

  "Thanks, but I need to get my bags."

  "No need. I'll bring everything up and make sure they get into your rooms."

  "Oh, well, in that case." Helen allowed herself to be escorted off the boat. "How nice. Are all the guests greeted this way?”

  "We like to make everyone feel welcome. It's great to finally meet you, Mrs. Bradley. I've heard a lot about you."

  "Good things, I hope."

  "Very. Megan told me you were a writer. I do some writing too, poetry mostly."

  "You'll have to show it to me sometime."

  He nodded. "I will." Peter shifted his blue gaze from Helen to the boat. "Didn't Megan come with you?"

  "She's in the cabin," Claire said. "Might still be asleep."

  "She's okay, isn't she?"

  "She's fine, Peter. Why don't you wake her?"

  He climbed aboard and disappeared inside. Through the window Helen could see him bending down to kiss Megan awake. Sweet. The gesture reminded her of something J.B. might have done.

  "Megan's boyfriend seems very nice."