by Lyndsey Cole
“What about Harold? How well do you know him?”
“I met him a few times in passing. I had the impression that they were madly in love with each other. Frankly, I was shocked when she told me he wanted out of their marriage. I think it hit her like a ton of bricks and the one thing she’s not willing to compromise on is Maisy.”
Or possibly, letting another woman have what she still wants, Hannah added silently.
“Pam’s going to have a field day when she finally sits down to question Juliette. Revenge is looking like a strong motive.” Hannah carefully put the knitting back and stood. “Jack’s probably wondering what the heck we’re doing up here.”
Ruby reached out to stop Hannah from leaving the guest room. “What about Harold? If Monique was driving him crazy, is it such a stretch to think he might have pushed her in the pool in a moment of, I don’t know, extreme anger and frustration?”
“Not at all. That pool area was a revolving door for all the suspects. The question narrows down to why would Monique feel safe to go near the pool that she had such a phobia of?”
“Not with Juliette if they were enemies.”
“Exactly what I’m thinking,” Hannah agreed.
They wouldn’t have walked in together, but Juliette could have followed Monique. If she was working through her fear, maybe she forced herself to walk past the pool. Anyone could have followed her. Including Juliette. Or Harold, or Gwen, for that matter.
Hannah hoped her thoughts were wrong.
Chapter 16
Jack made a quick examination of Petunia’s pen before they left. The gate latch was secure and all the fencing was in place. Petunia watched them with the most innocent expression, if a potbelly pig could actually look innocent.
“She’s smart, Hannah. You know what I think?”
“What?”
“She has figured out how to open the gate latch. Put up a monitor and see if you can catch her or whoever is helping her.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll ask Cal to do that for me.”
They continued in silence toward Jack’s house.
“Are you going to tell me what went through your mind when I asked Ruby if it was Harold staying at Caroline’s cottages with Juliette six years ago?” Jack asked in the least pushy way possible.
“Who else would it be?” Should she tell Jack that she visited with Great Aunt Caroline? It would upset him to know they are talking about him behind his back.
“Don’t answer a question with a question. That only confirms my suspicion. You’ve been talking to Caroline, haven’t you?”
Hannah didn’t look at Jack. She assumed her silence told him everything he wanted to know.
“I suppose I should have suspected that Caroline would contact you when I didn’t answer her calls. Listen, I had some tests done and I’m not ready to see the results. I’m not even sure I want to see the results.”
Hannah stopped walking and held Jack’s arm. “It could be good news. You know, if the tests came back negative.”
“I want to make up my mind how I’ll proceed if it’s not good news. Just in case.” They started to walk again. “What else did you and Caroline talk about? Besides me?” He chuckled.
“We talked about the murder and when I mentioned the photographer’s name was Harold, she remembered someone by that name stayed at her cottages six years ago.”
“That’s why you were so positive before.”
“Caroline remembers that one of the models left. I’m wondering if this is somehow connected to the unfinished business Juliette referred to.”
A car slowed and stopped next to Hannah and Jack. The passenger window rolled down. “I hope Ruby isn’t mad that I left when she was in the shower. I couldn’t handle a ton of questions.” Juliette had a sheepish look on her face. “Am I safe to go back inside or is she planning to throw me and Maisy out?”
Hannah leaned down so she could look at Juliette through the open window. “What’s going on Juliette? Where did you go? I understand you don’t want a big inquisition but it might be a lot easier to talk to us before Deputy Larson finds you. She was over looking for you earlier and she means business.”
Hannah didn’t see any reason to pussyfoot around. Juliette was in deep trouble and if she thought she could evade the wave that was about to slam into her, she was in for an even bigger drenching than she realized.
Juliette’s knuckles were white from her death grip on the steering wheel. “I had to talk to Harold. He called me this morning and I agreed to meet him on the beach.”
That explains what Meg saw earlier—Harold on the beach waving his arms while he talked on his phone. “And?” Hannah wasn’t about to let that be the end of the conversation.
“He’s willing to say he thinks Gwen killed Monique. He wants me to say I saw her go into the pool area.”
“Did you?” Hannah’s question came out as a fast exhale.
Juliette shook her head. “But if I don’t say it, he’ll tell the police that he saw me go into the pool area not long after Monique. The problem is, I don’t know if he saw me or not.”
“I saw you come out when Monique must have been at the bottom of the pool already. So, it's not a stretch that someone saw you go in. And I suppose it doesn’t much matter. If you came out, you had to go in.”
Juliette let her head rest on the steering wheel between her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
Jack stuck his head next to Hannah’s. “Listen to me. You tell my daughter the truth. Lying to her will get you nothing but more trouble. If you’re innocent, don’t act like you’re hiding something. Get over to the police station and get it over with. That’s my advice.”
Jack smacked the roof of Juliette’s car. “I’m going home.”
“He’s right, Juliette. Do you think Harold is asking you to lie because he killed Monique?”
“Or he thinks the police think he did.”
“Consider this. If he asks you to lie for him, it might just be another way for him to make you look guilty.” Hannah couldn’t believe that she would even contemplate going along with Harold’s plan.
“But he said he wants to get back together with me.” Juliette looked at Hannah. Her eyes were filled with questions.
“He cheated on you once, Juliette. How could you ever trust him? And what about Gwen? She’s ready to be his girlfriend as soon as he snaps his fingers.”
A dark shadow flashed across Juliette’s eyes.
Someone had to talk sense into this woman before she completely messed up her life and decided to give Harold a second chance.
“Listen, Juliette. Stop at Ruby’s house so she knows you’re okay. Say hello to Maisy. She misses you. Then get yourself over to the police station and ask for Deputy Larson before she has to come looking for you.”
Juliette nodded.
“And don’t lie.” Hannah moved back from Juliette’s car and watched as she continued to Ruby’s house. Harold was a snake and Juliette was acting like a scared mouse waiting to be his dinner.
Nellie and Patches decided the path to the beach appealed to them more than staying on the road. Hannah had no problem with their decision and followed behind the dogs.
Slipping off her flip-flops and burying her toes in the warm sand felt fantastic every time. Seagulls soared overhead and piping plovers skittered along at the edge of the waves. The briny scented breeze whipped her long braid over her shoulder as she picked up her pace to catch up with the dogs.
They charged ahead toward someone resting on a beach chair. As Hannah jogged closer, she heard a woman talking to Nellie. “Where did you come from you handsome girl?”
“Sorry. I hope they aren’t bothering you,” Hannah said as she stopped and was finally able to catch her breath.
The woman lifted her face toward Hannah. Vanessa’s eyes peered through dark glasses. She quickly smacked her hand on her head to keep the wind from stealing her droopy woven hat. “They aren’t a bother. I sure could use
having my dog with me now but I have to leave her home when I’m traveling with Monique.” She raised her free hand and quickly swiped across her cheek.
“Do you mind if I sit down for a minute?”
“No, of course not.”
Hannah sat in the sand next to Vanessa’s chair. “What do you think happened to Monique?”
Her shoulder’s bobbed up and down. “Harold? Gwen? Juliette? Take your pick. They all had something to gain. At first I was sure it was Gwen, but, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure she’s smart enough to plan something like that.”
“Maybe it wasn’t planned. Maybe everything fell into place in the moment.”
“Huh, I hadn’t even considered that possibility.”
“Tell me, Vanessa. Why did you travel with Monique on these photoshoots?”
Vanessa took her sunglasses off and stared at Hannah. “Her phobia of course. Swimsuit shoots are always near water and I have to keep her calm and focused.”
Hannah nodded. “So that’s why you think this was all planned?”
“I guess so. Everyone knew about her fear of water, and recently Harold demanded Monique,” Vanessa put her fingers up for air quotes, “get over it.”
“And was she making any progress?”
“Baby steps, I guess you could say. That’s the only explanation I have for why she would have been near the deep end of the pool. She must have been forcing herself to confront her fear.” Vanessa sighed. “I guess, in a way, it’s Harold’s fault for pushing her to work on it to begin with.”
“But it doesn’t mean he physically pushed her in the pool.” Hannah finished the idea.
“No, as much as I’d like to blame him, I think he genuinely cared for Monique.”
That’s interesting, Hannah said to herself. It didn’t exactly agree with what Juliette told her, which made Hannah more and more suspicious of Harold and his motives for everything he was doing and saying.
Hannah stood and brushed the sand off the backside of her pants. “I hope this spot helps you as much as it helps me when I have a problem.”
“I’m thinking about Monique. You know, trying to figure out what I could have done differently.”
Hannah nodded, not that Vanessa noticed since she was staring out to sea and stroking Nellie’s silky fur.
“What about Juliette?” Hannah forced herself to ask. “Isn’t Monique the reason Harold asked Juliette for a divorce?”
Vanessa shoved the sunglasses back over her eyes, effectively blocking Hannah from reading her emotions. “That’s Juliette’s version, but as far as Harold was concerned, that marriage was over well before Monique came into the picture.”
Chapter 17
Delicious aromas drifted from The Fishy Dish, making Hannah’s stomach grumble. The lunch crowd drifted from the beach into the snack bar to satisfy their seafood craving. Samantha hustled between the picnic tables with trays loaded with chowder, fried fish platters, and fish sandwiches.
Hannah grabbed a handful of Meg’s hand-cut sweet potato fries, lightly salted, and shoved them into her mouth.
“Here.” Meg handed her a small bowl of chowder. “Take your time. No one will starve to death before you get out there to help. Samantha is actually keeping up quite nicely. I never know with her lately, but today she’s staying focused.”
Hannah accepted the clam chowder gratefully. “I talked to Jack.”
Meg turned with her spatula hovering between a plate and the grill. “And?”
“Don’t say anything to him. He had some kind of medical test done.”
“He’s waiting for the results?”
“Well…” Hannah hesitated. “He’s got the results but he hasn’t opened them yet.”
“I don’t know anyone more stubborn than Jack. What’s he waiting for?”
Hmmm. Hannah kept her thoughts to herself. Apparently, Meg didn’t see herself as others did—stubborn and opinionated. “He’s waiting until he has a plan on how to deal with the results if it’s bad news.”
“Get treatment! What’s so hard about that?”
“I think he must be considering not going for treatment. Sometimes the side effects are worse than the diagnosis.”
“This is a ridiculous conversation, Hannah. We don’t even know what the test was for. Should I tell Caroline?”
“I’m not sure. She’ll worry, and Jack doesn’t want all of us hovering and wringing our hands and all that emotional stuff he’s assuming we’ll do.”
“How about a good slap to knock some sense into him?” Meg’s frustration oozed with her words. She finally remembered her fish on the grill and quickly flipped it onto the roll before it burned.
The door separating the kitchen from the front of The Fishy Dish swung open. “Gwen is leaving,” Samantha said.
“Leaving town?” Hannah slurped down the rest of her chowder and put the bowl in the sink. “She can’t leave if she’s still a suspect.” She pushed through the door.
Gwen perched on one of the counter stools with her phone to her ear. “Yeah. Pick me up at—” She looked at Hannah. “What’s this place called?”
“The Fishy Dish.”
“Pick me up at The Fishy Dish. As soon as possible. There are too many bugs and too much sand here.”
Hannah wondered if Gwen preferred constant air conditioning, stale recirculated air, and artificial light to the beauty surrounding her which, apparently, she didn’t notice.
She put her phone away and turned her attention to Hannah. “Don’t tell Harold, but I’ve got a room back at the Paradise Inn. Colin pulled some strings for me. He’ll do anything for me.” Her casual comment made Hannah suspect that with a flirty pout, Gwen was used to getting what she wanted from men.
Even murder? Hannah wondered as she looked at Gwen. She was showing her true colors—devious and manipulative. Did she use those special charms on Colin to get her rival out of the way, as Gwen referred to Monique’s death?
“Isn’t Harold planning some more shoots here at the beach?”
A noticeable quick tightening of Gwen’s jaw muscles told Hannah that she was probably furious about whatever it was that Harold had planned.
“He said he doesn’t need me today. He’s got that pig scheduled to work with him.” She glanced over her shoulder checking for any eavesdroppers in the vicinity. “And that old lady that tries to flirt with Harold. Between you and me? He’s gonna be sorry that he’s treating me with so little respect. A pig and an old lady instead of me?” She spat out the word pig as if her mouth was full of the sand she so hated getting lodged between her toes.
Gwen stretched out her long legs and slid off the stool. “My ride should be here.” She dragged her large bag behind her toward the parking lot.
Hannah stared at the retreating figure. Wow. Just, wow, that anyone could feel so entitled. She almost hoped that Gwen was the murderer. She deserved to be punished for something.
A black Ford Mustang came to a screeching halt in a cloud of dust. Hannah wasn’t too surprised to see Colin’s profile in the driver’s seat. She didn’t know him well enough to know whether she should feel sorry for him or whether he and Gwen deserved each other.
He jumped out and managed to stuff Gwen’s bag into the back seat of the Mustang. He ran around to the passenger side and opened the door for her while she inspected her nails. Hannah decided that Gwen was afraid she might break one of those long manicured nails if she attempted to open the door herself. They drove off and Hannah couldn’t help but wonder what trouble would land in Colin’s lap for being sucked into Gwen’s web.
“Hey.” Samantha elbowed Hannah in the side. “She’s quite a piece of work, isn’t she? Don’t you kind of hope she’s the murderer. Get those genes out of circulation?”
Hannah squinted at Samantha. “Interesting way to phrase it, but, yes, I was thinking along those lines, too.”
“I’m pretty excited. Harold wants to photograph me and Petunia this afternoon.” Samantha wiggled with pleas
ure. It reminded Hannah of Nellie’s behavior when she was expecting something fun to happen.
“Gwen did share that scheduling tidbit. Her ego is badly bruised that you and Petunia are getting Harold’s attention instead of her.”
“What do you think I should wear? If these photos go into a calendar, I want to be sure I look my tip-top best!”
Hannah glanced down at her own casual t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. “You’re asking me for fashion advice?”
“Good point. I’ll talk to Ruby when I head over to give Petunia her bath. And if Juliette is around, she might be able to give me some pointers, too. I haven’t felt this fidgety in years, Hannah.”
Hannah turned away from Samantha and rolled her eyes. She hoped Samantha wasn’t disappointed with Harold’s plans. Or Petunia’s cooperation level which could turn the whole affair into a disaster.
“I forgot to mention this before,” Samantha said. “Pam called the office asking for you to swing by the police station.” She raised her eyebrows for emphasis. “At your convenience.”
“That sounds a bit too polite from Deputy Larson. I wonder what’s up.”
Samantha shrugged. “She didn’t give me any extra details. Maybe she thinks your curiosity factor will get you moving quicker than if she left an ultimatum.”
“Maybe.”
Or, she wants to pick my brain about Jack. Boy, Hannah hated being in the middle of everyone’s drama. First, she got sucked into Juliette’s ugly divorce because Maisy melted her heart. And that mess went from ugly to deadly with Monique’s murder. Now, she had to navigate between Jack and Pam. Nothing like being stuck in what felt like a no-win situation. And at the same time, she had to avoid a killer.
The only problem with that sensible line of reasoning was that she didn’t know who the killer was.
