by Robin Shope
The women uncomfortably shifted in their chairs.
“I do understand and thank you for being so clear and forthright on the matter.” Wynn set her pie down.
“My nephew is going through a very hard time right now. I’m thankful for the support of Wynn.” Owl covered her eyes and her shoulders convulsed.
“Ladies! We must remember that everyone here is affected by what happened and no one more than Jackie.” Faith smiled sadly. “And Owl.”
“Thank you Faith. Instead of holding a flesh and blood human being responsible, some want to hold the island curse responsible.” Jackie rolled her eyes. “Imagine.”
“About time the island curse gets some publicity again now that Joseph Reed was found.” Sheri’s spoon left a swipe of meringue on her nose. “I’m thinking about ordering a toy mummy in a basket for the shop.”
“So it was Joseph’s body?” Wynn asked.
“Yes, they know it’s a Reed relative, and the age of the mummy indicates it’s him.” Sheri replied.
“Mummy…sounds a bit like Halloween.” Faith mused.
“Agreed, but I may be able to parlay it into a hot selling item.”
“You have a real gift for that.” Owl concurred.
“Does anyone know who placed Joseph Reed’s body in that coffin trying to pass him off as Boone?” Wynn looked from face to face.
“It just shows that someone was trying to cover up a murder, so perhaps it was an accident?” Faith murmured.
“Where has Joseph Reed’s body been all this time?” Roxie asked.
“Perhaps this can be termed as another island mystery.” Sheri seemed most pleased.
“It seems to me the cases are totally linked: Boone’s death, Joseph Reed’s body placed in the coffin, and the stranger who was cremated.”
“And here I thought you were a scientist, Wynn, but I see now you are really a detective!” Jackie looked ready for a full blown snit.
“Are there witnesses, Jackie, or are you going on blind accusation, like the police?” Wynn flinched.
“Wynn!” Faith cut her off primly.
“Doug’s an environmentalist. But a murderer?—could he be a murderer?” Sheri asked to no one in particular. “I can’t see it.”
“Me, either.” Wynn’s voice dropped. “Thanks Sheri.”
“Owl, are you having a funeral for your ancestor?” Roxie asked.
“Oh, my, yes. He’s what has made this island famous over the years. I refer to it as ‘hosting’ the funeral. I am imagining a big island festival. I’m thinking parade. However, it’s only polite that Boone have his funeral first.” Owl stabbed the air with her fork before scooping another piece of pie.
“Maybe the festival should be put off until Doug is cleared.”
“Wynn, it’s been fun having you here on the island this summer,” Jackie answered coolly, “but please remember, you are not one of us, you are just passing through.”
“Halleluiah, Jesus! Keep us together Lord. Keep us together Lord, in love!” Faith began to sing.
“I don’t think those are the exact words, Faith.” Owl pointed out.
“What is your point exactly, Faith?” Jackie arched a brow.
“Jackie, we all understand this is a very difficult time for you, but please, let’s be civil to one another.”
“I’ll try.” There were dark circles under her eyes. Jackie frowned, and then stood. “I think it’s time for me to head home. I don’t want to leave Agatha alone for long. Thank you, everyone, for the delicious refreshments.”
“Take a piece of pie to Agatha.” Roxie got up and moved the last piece onto a china plate. She covered it with a linen napkin and handed it to her friend.
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Roxie. Thanks. And I’m sure Agatha will want to thank you the next time she sees you.”
Wynn remained seated as the other women took turns hugging Jackie goodbye. At the doorway, Jackie turned and looked across the room. “Goodnight to you, Wynn.”
“Sleep well, Jackie.”
All gazes were on the door as Jackie walked through it.
“Well, that was certainly uncomfortable.” Sheri sat back down.
“Anyone can be a murderer if the circumstances are right. Or, leastwise, cause a death, since we’re not really sure a murder has occurred.” Roxie glanced about the room.
“I hope you didn’t invite me over here tonight just to try to get incriminating information out of me about Doug.” Owl snatched a piece of flaky crust from Wynn’s discarded plate and swirled it around in the lime meringue. “And if you are insinuating my nephew caused Boone’s death you better think again, Roxie.”
“I’m not insinuating a thing! Why is everyone so touchy tonight?”
“It’s because everyone seems to have a dog in this fight.” Sheri tugged her braid.
Again Faith hummed. She held out her hand to Wynn.
“It’s so hard because we all want to keep peace and Jackie wants justice.” Sheri added before chiming in with Faith’s tune.
“We all want justice, most of all Doug.” Wynn accepted Faith’s hand.
“That’s the spirit, Wynn!” Faith sweetly smiled and went back to singing. “Everyone join me!”
“These times try us all especially our friendship. I believe we are to hold strong onto each other and our faith at this time.” Sheri reached for Roxie’s hand. “We shouldn’t be judges of this matter.”
“Is there anything new about the case?” Wynn took Owl’s hand.
“Nothing. So far, Doug is the only suspect in what may or may not be a murder.” Owl sighed.
Everyone swayed side to side as the women continued humming.
“Have they determined cause of death?” Wynn raised her voice.
“No, as Jackie said, they are still waiting on lab results.” Owl sounded out of breath.
“Slow down on all the questions, Wynn, will you?” Roxie said as she swayed in time to their humming. “Keep us together, Lord!”
Several minutes of singing passed, and then the women dropped their hands.
Faith stopped humming.
Wynn was thankful for the silence. She pressed for information. “Have they gone over the schooner for fingerprints?”
“They found nothing, not even Doug’s. Can you imagine?” Faith added.
“Then someone must have wiped it clean. Mine should have shown up. I’m telling you, someone else put that body on the schooner, and then wiped it down. This proves it.”
Roxie looked totally enrapt hearing this information. Her gaze went from Wynn’s to Sheri’s to Faith’s to Owl’s. Then she said quietly, “We are a family of faith here, would you agree?”
Everyone nodded their heads, except for Wynn, who still considered herself a person of science.
“Wynn said words here tonight that have made me rethink some things. As a Christian, I’ve been harsh and judgmental and I hope God, and all of you, will forgive me. I honestly don’t know who killed Boone. Maybe it was even an accident. However, I’ve made a decision. I want to help find out what happened to Boone, no matter where it leads us.” Roxie looked at Wynn. “You do want to find out what happened to Boone, right?” She asked Wynn.
“Yes, I do.”
“Even if Doug’s guilty of something.”
Wynn’s stomach pitched. “Even then.”
“Then we will all help. Each of us can do a part in the research, and then meet back to discuss our findings. Wynn can help organize us because she is a scientist.” Owl stated excitedly.
“And scientists are detectives, too.” Sheri smiled. “But I’m game too, how about you, Faith, and Roxie?”
“You know I am.”
“Me too, but where do we start?” Faith took a notebook from her purse and posed her pen on the paper.
“First, we need to get a copy of the coroner’s report and the lab results. I have a copy of the police report. Between the two maybe we can establish a timeline,” Wynn said.
“I really do think Wynn is a detective!” Owl gushed.
“The man who was struck by the truck on the mainland, his body has been cremated. Sadly, we may never find out who he was and what part, if any, he plays in this mystery. It’s important to interview all the witnesses. The only identification he had on him was Boone’s wallet. How did that happen??”
“Perhaps he pickpocketed Boone.”
“Maybe he’s our killer!” Owl squeaked. “That means our killer got killed.”
“If so, then how did Boone get from the mainland to the island without anyone noticing?” Roxie asked.
“Good point, but let’s not overlook this idea, or any idea, so write it down, Faith,” Wynn suggested. “We need to make a list of suspects.”
“You should try the computers, too,” Sheri said. “I’m more of a snow globe person than a computer person, but I’ve watched cop shows and they have the ability to trace almost anything these days.”
“They took Doug’s history so I’m sure they have Boone’s, too.” Owl patted her curlers.
Faith went back to her paper and read: “Wynn already has the police report.”
“For our next meeting, I’ll make notations and copies for everyone. If anything on it raises more questions, I’ll attempt to find the answers.” Wynn and Roxie exchanged glances. “Let’s work together on our assignments, Aunt Roxie.”
“Good teamwork. Roxie, you and Wynn can also trace Boone’s whereabouts from the time his plane landed at Greenbay. Owl, talk to Doug’s lawyer directly to find out the kind of evidence the police have on him. Sheri, you keep an ear out for island gossip about any murder or unexplained death.”
“I wonder how, if Boone was murdered, what happened? A gun shot? Strangulation? A knife wound?” Sheri leaned forward.
“A heart attack?” Wynn interjected.
“Then why was his body hidden on a schooner?” Sheri asked. “No, the cause of death is something much more dramatic.”
“The biggest problem will be getting the coroner and lab results.” Wynn said.
“Why?”
“The public isn’t privy to that information.”
“I’ll see what I can do to help, and bring the refreshments for the next meeting,” Faith said.
“Will they be made by Chef Frank?” Owl asked.
“Of course!”
“Going back to fingerprints, Faith, how do you know the police didn’t find fingerprints on the schooner?” Wynn asked.
“I know because I’m showing homes to Frank and he served lunch to the police officers just yesterday.”
“Frank is looking to buy on the mainland?” Roxie was curious.
“As a matter of fact, he’s hoping to find something he can afford on the island,” Faith answered.
“Hasn’t that been his dream all along?” Sheri smiled.
“Yes, it has been.”
“What part of the island is Frank looking for a house?” Roxie asked.
“He wants a lot to build on.” Faith explained.
“But lots and consent for new builds are nearly impossible to get anymore,” Sheri added.
Faith shrugged. “I tried telling him that, but he is bound and determined to find something, and is certain he can get the authorization.”
“Maybe he feels this way because he has the inside track with owning the Inn. Island officials are quick to accommodate business owners. Wouldn’t that be marvelous?” Owl was excited.
“Tell Frank to come by and see me. I have an acre at the back of my property I might consider selling to him.” Roxie got a smug look in her eyes.
“I can’t wait to tell Frank the news. I think I’ll head over to the inn right now. Thanks Roxie.”
Then like a dam breaking, the others got up and followed Faith out of the cottage.
Wynn hung back to speak with her aunt. “You’re not so sure about Doug’s guilt anymore, are you?”
Roxie answered. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Too many variables.”
“Ha, you are sounding like me now.”
“We have more in common than you think.” Roxie pulled a loose strand of hair behind Wynn’s ear.
“Murdered people have families who care about them, too. Just like these women. I need to remember that before I speak.”
“May the Lord fill your mouth with blessing.”
“Amen to that.” Wynn kissed her aunt goodnight. Outside she found Owl waiting for her. They walked up the drive towards the Tree House.
“Would you look at the stars through the trees tonight. So many of them.” Wynn admired.
“Don’t they look like pin pricks on black paper!”
“On this kind of night, I sit out on my porch among the tree tops, just listening to the waves crash against the shore. I used to only feel part of the land and trees and sea and sky, but lately, since I’ve come to the island, I’m starting to feel connected to people more and more.”
“Are you referring to Doug?”
“Yes, but not only him. Also to the ladies of the Bible study.” Wynn squeezed her hand.
“And we all love you, too, dear.”
“Well, maybe, but certainly not true of Jackie.” Wynn looked at her with troubled eyes.
“As my mother used to say, ‘This too shall pass.’ Just wait for her to come around. Rest assured it will happen.”
“The other day, I woke up to lovely words swirling around in my mind. It’s like a song you hear, but can’t quite get out of your head. Poetic, yet somehow sad. That’s where I’ll find him.”
“I’d like to hear it.”
“OK—it’s short.” Wynn cleared her throat. “‘I put my dreams in down by the water’.”
“Nice. You should write an entire poem centered on that romantic thought.”
“I’m not a writer. What do you suppose it means?”
“Something important was somehow lost.”
“I certainly have a lot to pick from.”
“Whatever you lost, I hope you find it.”
In the distance, Wynn caught a flicker of light as though the moon glanced at itself in the water. She kept staring at the sky, hoping to catch it happening again, but a large bird took flight and broke her concentration. “How are you holding up, Owl?”
“I have my good moments and bad. Ever since Doug’s parents died, my husband and I have been close to Doug. He’s a good man and I say that because it’s the truth, not because he’s my nephew.”
“He is a good man. You know a lot of island folklore. One is about you.”
Owl seemed to get a kick out of this and bent over laughing. “Island curses, and now folklore.”
“Walking is good exercise, but why do you walk at night instead of the day? It’d be a lot safer.”
“Let me ask you this, why do you think I walk at night?”
“To get everyone talking?” Wynn giggled.
“No mystery. No folklore. Just prayer time. I walk and pray, walk and pray. No one stops me to disturb my thoughts.”
“Really? Every night?”
“Every night for the last forty years except during blizzards.”
“What do you say to God while out walking around?”
“I ask that people will be drawn to Jesus. I pray for protection, for good health. I praise God for His blessings. Whatever comes to mind. When I am particularly troubled like now, I can walk and pray till dawn. Come along with me sometime.”
“Then we’d both have tongues wagging. I’m so pleased the women of the Bible study are involving themselves to get to the truth about Boone’s murder, if it is murder. And…”
“And what?” Owl lifted the lid off a trash can and began raking through the contents. She held up an old shirt. “This just might fit my husband. Go on, honey, I’m listening.”
“What are you doing?” Wynn asked in horror.
Owl laughed. “Finding good stuff that others have no need for.”
Wynn looked around for the othe
rs. She didn’t see anyone, but for good measure, she moved closer to Owl. “Are you good at keeping secrets?”
“That I am.”
“Good. Two big things are bothering me. First, I found Agatha’s brooch on the schooner the other night when Doug and I were coming back from the island preserve. It was lodged under the seat like it was purposefully left.”
“What was Agatha doing on Doug’s schooner? Do you suppose she had something to do with Boone’s body showing up there? It might make sense.”
Wynn shrugged. “It could have been planted. Ah, there I go again, being a detective.”
“Don’t pay attention to Jackie’s words. Where is the brooch now?”
“My place. I had no idea a body was about to turn up, so I took it to give back to her. Dumb of me. I think this could be termed as contaminating a crime scene. If only I had left it, it might have turned the investigation in a different direction.” Wynn shook her head impatiently. “What this investigation lacks is focus.”
“You mentioned there was something else you wanted to say?”
“Where do you suppose the real ruby ring is? The one Boone was supposed to take to his grave.”
“Wish I knew. A lot of people would love to get their hands on it—possibly even a private collector.”
“Really?” Wynn felt taken back. “What’s so special about it?”
“It was given by the Queen of England, the sickly Anne Stuart, centuries ago to one of her lovers. He left England soon after her marriage and came to America with it, where he lost it in a poker game to one of my distant Reed relatives for land. From that time it was passed on down to the first born Reed son every generation.”
“It should be in your family. How did Boone end up with it?”
“His great-granddaddy won it in another poker game from my great-great granddaddy. Obviously, Jackie doesn’t know the history of the ring, either, and I sure don’t want her to find out. Now it’s your turn for secret keeping. It could be the very thing that hangs Doug.”
