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

by Patricia H. Rushford

  "You don't think I did it. Helen!" Claire flung her arms around her cousin. "I'd never do anything to hurt you. You are like my sister. When Dad told me, I was thrilled."

  Claire looked so offended, Helen couldn't help but laugh. She pulled out of the embrace and said, "No, I don't think you did it. But we do need to look at who might benefit from my death."

  "Sandy," Claire said without hesitation. "When Richard dies everything goes to her, at least until the divorce is final. Maybe she killed Dad."

  "She didn't arrive on the island until this morning."

  Claire sighed and started walking again. "True."

  "I'm not saying Sandy couldn't have done it, but it's unlikely. She would have had to arrange for a sitter, sneak out here sometime yesterday or last night, then gone back and come out again this morning."

  "You're right. I guess I'm grasping at straws again. I still don't want to believe Fabian is guilty."

  "It's too soon to say anything for certain. Just because Trace thought he found Fabian doesn't mean Fabian killed him or Paddy. So far there's only the information in the file and the fact that he's missing. I admit it doesn't look good for him, but the police are going to need more than that."

  "Sandy stands to inherit the most, providing the divorce isn't final. And I'm sure it won't be now that Paddy is dead. In fact, I'll bet anything she backs out of the divorce and makes up with Richard." Claire shifted the backpack and held the straps off her shoulder.

  "What about the rest of the family?"

  "The kids are next on the ladder. Patrick and Marcie would certainly benefit."

  "We can cross Marcie off the list, of course, but what about Patrick? I don't hear much about him and haven't seen him in years."

  Claire frowned. "He's a lot like Richard used to be. Arrogant but sweet and intelligent. Very good-looking. He was planning to be a doctor, a dermatologist, but he dropped out of medical school about six months ago. I thought he was just tired of studying. Now I'm wondering if he had to drop out because of the money situation. He's been doing odd jobs since then. I worry about him. Last time I saw him, he seemed tense and angry. Now I understand why. His dad's sick and into gambling, his parents' marriage is falling apart and who knows what else is going on."

  "His dreams shattered," Helen finished. "Angry enough to kill his grandfather?"

  "I'd hate to think so, but I suppose it's possible." Claire chewed on her lower lip. "I don't like where this is going, but I know you're going to ask about Megan. She'll inherit most of my estate if anything happens to me."

  "I doubt Megan is in any condition to commit murder, but let's not forget about Peter. He's anxious to marry Megan. While he seems the perfect gentleman, he may be after more than her heart."

  Claire moaned. "I hope not. Having this much money can be such a curse."

  "Speaking of which, Fabian is still your husband. Is he included in your will at all?"

  "Yes, now that you mention it. He would get a quarter of my estate. With a third of Dad's money, I'll have over eight million."

  "Which would give him two million. Not bad. And with me out of the way. . .."

  Claire blew out a long breath. "It keeps coming back to him, doesn't it?"

  "Seems that way."

  "Oh, he was so sneaky. Told me he didn't want anything. 'Megan should get it all,' he said. 'I don't need it. All I need is you,' he said. 'What good is money when you're not here to enjoy it with me?' I played right into his hands. I insisted he should get something. I was so blind. Rewrote my will to include him."

  "You were in love."

  "God help me, I still am." Raw pain edged her words. On the verge of tears again, she added, "But I'll show him. I'm not going to leave him a dime. Remind me to have Greg change my will as soon as we get back. Then even if he kills me he ends up with nothing."

  "Well, let's hope that doesn't turn out to be the case. I have to admit, though, I'm puzzled. If Fabian was hoping to inherit, why would he steal from you and Paddy, and why would he disappear? If it were me, I'd look at how to get the most money and try to look the least suspicious. The logical thing would have been to go along with the plans you had to buy the island. You have plenty of money for the two of you to live comfortably. Staying with you would have assured him much more money in the long run."

  "Maybe he is a con man, like Greg said. He wanted to get what he could out of me and go on to the next sucker."

  "Yes, and if he owed gambling debts, he may have needed cash fast." Helen rubbed a sore spot on her hip. "Still, why try to kill me? Would he even have known about my being named in the will?"

  "I don't know. Paddy may have told him, but I can't imagine why he would."

  "I'm sorry, Claire. I shouldn't even be talking about this with you. I know how painful it must be for you."

  "Painful, yes. But I want to know who's behind all this. I just pray we're able to do that before someone else gets killed."

  Helen couldn't agree more. Unfortunately, they were missing too many pieces of the puzzle, and as she'd told Claire before, it didn't really help to speculate.

  When they got to the paved portion of the road, Helen suggested they detour up to the summit so she could get a look at the route her attacker must have used and examine the area for any clues he or she may have left behind.

  The wide asphalt with its gentle slope made their trip to the summit an easy one. Near the top, a dirt road led to an outbuilding used to store equipment and supplies for maintaining the area. The shed stood open and a small, once white battered pickup sat in front of it. Helen peeked inside but saw no one.

  "Luis must be here."

  "The gardener?"

  Claire nodded. "He pretty much comes and goes as he pleases."

  A series of bangs had them scrambling back to the main trail and the remaining fifty feet or so to the summit. A man with leathery brown skin and long dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck raised a hammer and came down hard on the broken railing, knocking the wooden pole away from its support beam on both sides. A new unbroken pole lay on the ground behind him.

  "Hi, Luis," Claire called.

  He jumped back. "You ladies shouldn't sneak up on a man like that."

  "Sorry." Claire introduced Helen. "Luis, this is my cousin Helen."

  "Glad to meet you." Deep lines crinkled around his eyes when he smiled. She'd have guessed him to be Latino if not for his crystal blue eyes.

  "I'm glad to see you're fixing that." Claire nodded at the railing.

  "Had to do it before someone got hurt." He wiped his brow with his forearm, which bore the tattoo of a cross draped in lilies. He wore a stained white T-shirt and dark olive work pants. Helen guessed him to be in his fifties. He was short and stocky, about five-three with a muscular build.

  "Someone almost did." Helen caught his elusive gaze for a moment before he glanced away.

  "What do you mean?"

  "About half an hour ago I was standing right where you are and someone pushed me."

  A mixture of fear and disbelief filled his eyes. "You fell down there and you're here to tell about it?"

  "I got lucky. How long have you been here?"

  He shrugged. "Fifteen minutes maybe."

  "How long has the pole been broken?"

  "A couple of days. I’m not sure how it happened. Peter called me about it yesterday. Meant to get out here then, but the wife had a doctor's appointment. She's still sick, but when Peter called this morning to tell me about Paddy, I thought I'd better come help out." He turned to Claire. "Can't tell you how sorry am about your father. He was a good man."

  "What time did Peter call you?" Helen asked.

  "About nine this morning. Why?"

  "Did you see anyone on your way up here?"

  He shook his head. "Wish I could help. Only person I've talked to is Peter and a deputy who was trying to tell me I shouldn't be here. I told him he was the one who shouldn't be here."

  Helen lifted her gaze to the ferry cu
tting through the Sound toward Anacortes. The boat she'd seen near the caves bobbed in its wake, turning so that its back faced the island. The boat had been there for a couple of hours now, a long time to stay in one place unless they were looking for something specific. Could they have come onto the island through an opening in the cave? Might they have followed her to the summit and pushed her? If so, why had they singled her out? Why not Claire?

  "Claire, turn around so I can get my camera."

  "What for?"

  "I want to see if I can read the name of that boat out there." She unzipped the pocket and pulled out her camera.

  "The little one?" Luis asked.

  Helen nodded. "I might be able to see it with the telephoto lens."

  "I got something better." Luis took off running and seconds later came back with binoculars. "Always keep them with me for birding."

  Helen focused on the boat, bringing the name into focus, and read the name aloud. "Down Under."

  "Are you sure?" Claire grabbed the binoculars. "What in the world is he doing out there?"

  "Who?" Helen asked.

  "Patrick. Richard's son. The one who couldn't come to the island this morning because he had to work. The Down Under is his boat."

  Chapter Twenty One

  We'd better get back and let Chad and the sheriff know. There may not be a connection, but Patrick's being here is too much of a coincidence."

  "That's for sure."

  "Thanks, Luis." Helen handed back the binoculars. "Do you know anything about the caves near where the Down Linder is anchored?" she asked him.

  He shrugged. "A little. Long time ago, before Paddy bought the place, a friend and I took a rubber raft and went inside. One is just a hole in the rock, nothing impressive. The other is a pretty good-sized cavern, about ten or twelve feet across and twenty deep. Doesn't go anywhere, though."

  "No tunnels? Maybe one going to an aboveground opening or leading to the castle?"

  He shook his head. "Afraid not. There were a couple of places you could walk in a ways, but they dead-ended."

  "Maybe," Claire said, "Patrick figured out a way to get on the island without being detected."

  "There's one way to find out." Helen turned to Luis. "You don't by any chance have a walkie-talkie, do you?" She'd seen Peter with one earlier.

  "Yeah, I do. In the truck." He led them back to the storage shed where he got Peter on and handed the transceiver to her.

  "Hi, Peter. I need to get a message to the sheriff or the RCMP." She released the button and waited for his answer.

  "They're not here" came his gravelly response. "The sheriff arrested Richard a few minutes ago. Powell went along to try to talk her out of it."

  "Oh no." Claire leaned back against the side of the pickup bed. "This can't be happening."

  Helen pressed the button to talk. "Does she have evidence?"

  "According to the film from the security cameras, Richard was the last one to go into Paddy’s room last night. She verified the approximate time of death with the medical examiner and thinks she has a case."

  "Has Richard been there the entire time since Claire and I left?"

  "I couldn't tell you, Mrs. Bradley. I've been painting the new building. Only rea—I know a—Rich—arrest is that—lary sent Sar—to—et me." His voice cut in and out and she was having difficulty understanding him.

  "You must have a weak battery," she said. "I'm not picking you up."

  He didn't respond. Moments later there was a crackling noise, then nothing.

  "These things are worthless." Helen sighed and handed the two-way back to Luis.

  "Happens all the time. Don't know how many times I told Peter, 'You gotta keep fresh batteries on hand.' He forgets."

  "How far is it back to the castle?" Helen asked.

  "Only about a mile on the paved road," Claire told her. "It's about two and a half going around by the water."

  "I can drive you back," Luis offered. "That is, if you don't mind riding in the back of the pickup."

  Helen didn't mind at all. Since the cab was filled with miscellaneous junk, she and Claire hopped on the tailgate. They shot down the hill at a wild ten miles per hour. At the back en­trance to the castle, she and Claire scooted out and thanked Luis.

  "Glad to help. For what it's worth," he told Claire, "I don't think your brother killed Paddy. Sure, they argued a lot, but I could tell he thought a lot of his dad. Him and me would talk sometimes about things. We both served in Nam, you know.

  Even with him being rich and all, he was a regular guy."

  "Thanks, Luis." Claire gave him a hug. "I don't think Richard did it, either, and Helen's going to help me prove it."

  "Well, if you need anything, you let me know." He waved and headed back to the summit to finish his repairs.

  Helen hesitated before going inside. "I keep thinking about Patrick and that boat of his. Since the sheriff is gone, we're not confined. Maybe we should go out to the caves and check them out ourselves."

  "We can take the Celtic Moon." She glanced toward the dock where her boat was moored.

  "Good. Give me about ten minutes to get cleaned up."

  Hillary opened the door and hurried toward them. She hugged Claire. "It's about time you were getting back. I've been going crazy with all that's been going on." Her gaze swung to Helen. "Good grief, woman, what happened to you?"

  "I took a tumble."

  "Are you all right? Should I have Peter take you to a doctor?"

  "I'm fine, at least I will be once I get cleaned up." Helen rubbed the stinging scratch on her arm. "Peter told us that Richard was arrested."

  "It's like I said all along. Remember? On the phone I told you Richard had been trying to kill him. I was right. He didn't bother to deny it. Just stood there and let the sheriff put the cuffs on him. Still, it makes me want to cry. Can't stand to see the family split apart like that."

  "Where is Sandy?" Claire asked. "This must have made her day."

  Hillary tossed Claire a questioning look and shook her head. "She was hopping mad. She and Marcie took off. They didn't even unpack."

  "They left? But how, my sailboat is still here."

  "Greg took them in his plane. He was upset, I tell you. Said they didn't have any business arresting a man in Richard's condition."

  "Hillary, did Richard go outside at all this morning?" Helen slipped the pack off her shoulders.

  "Not that I know of. Sandy did. Said she needed some air.

  Told me she was thinking of trying to work things out. Of course, that was before he was arrested. By the time she came back, the sheriff was already hauling him off."

  "How long was she gone?" Might Sandra have pushed her? Or perhaps Sandra had rendezvoused with Patrick.

  "An hour, maybe less." Hillary clicked her tongue. "Seeing them all like that, I feel terrible. Beginning to wonder if, well. . .. Richard did seem awfully weak. Maybe I misjudged him."

  "Maybe you did. Did you mention your suspicions about him to the sheriff?"

  "Yes. She asked how Richard and Paddy got along. If you're thinking she arrested him on my say-so, you're wrong. She didn't even ask me until after she'd looked at those tapes."

  "What time did she make the arrest?"

  "Not more than thirty minutes ago."

  Half an hour ago she and Claire were walking back up to the summit. An hour ago she'd been out on a limb.

  As much as she wanted to question Hillary about everyone's whereabouts while she and Claire had been gone, she wanted to check out the caves more. Chances were the divers were already long gone, but she wanted to see for herself. She couldn't shake the strange feeling she had about the Down Under and the two divers she'd seen. Had Sandra known her son was there? How long had he been there? Had they come in during the night? Had Patrick killed Paddy? She frowned. Did Patrick have a connection with Fabian or the detective? Or were Patrick and his diving buddy trapped somewhere in the cave by an incoming tide?

  Helen excused herself,
saying she needed to freshen up. "Claire and I are going sailing."

  "Do you want Peter to take you out?"

  "There's no need to bother him. We can manage," Claire assured her.

  Helen hurried up to the fourth floor while Claire stopped off at the second to check on Megan. Catching her image in the mirror, Helen grimaced. She looked like she'd been in a fight with a wildcat and lost. Her attempts to cool off after her ordeal had left her face and T-shirt streaked with mud. She had a scratch on her cheek and another on her neck.

  She turned the shower on, stripped, and when the water felt warm enough, stepped into it. The water stung her scrapes and scratches. She struggled against the rising tide of emotions, not wanting to admit how deeply affected she was by the entire ordeal. She couldn't afford to fall apart yet. She felt responsible for Paddy's death and even more responsible to put whoever did it behind bars. Richard wasn't the killer. Of that she was fairly certain. Of course, it could all be coincidence that Sandra took a walk while Patrick was anchored offshore near the caves, but Helen wanted nothing more than to confront Sandra and her son.

  She prepared to do just that as Claire's sailboat rounded the bend and she spotted the Down Under. There was no one on board. Claire maneuvered the sailboat closer. "Patrick?" Helen called. "Anybody here?"

  She called again, and when she didn't get an answer, Helen turned back to Claire. "I'm going aboard."

  Fortunately, the water was calm and they had no trouble coming alongside the cruiser. They tied the two crafts together, separated by bumpers. "Let me know if you see them coming."

  Helen climbed over the railing of the Celtic Moon and boarded the other craft. After a quick look around, she went below deck. The divers' clothing lay in two heaps on the V bunks. Tennis shoes and socks on the floor. Wallets in plain view. The first one was Patrick's. She thumbed through several twenties and a ten. He had a driver's license, cash card, Visa, and several photos of Marcie and his parents, and a young woman, perhaps his girlfriend. The other wallet belonged to Ted Werner.

  "Werner?" Helen whistled, then bolted up the stairs. Leaning across the railings of the two boats, she handed the license to Claire. "Take a look at this.''