by Leslie Meier
“I really, really think you’re on the wrong track,” said Lucy. “Geoff Rumford is not the murderer.” She paused. “Did you know two thugs in polo shirts were seen following Davitz shortly before his death?”
Horowitz’s eyes widened with surprise. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” said Lucy, a note of triumph in her voice. “What do you say to that?”
“As I said earlier, I really can’t comment.” He turned to go, then stopped. A smile tickled his mouth. “Agents Heller and Morton will be interested to hear you mistook them for thugs,” he said, chuckling.
“Agents? You mean those guys are feds? Were they investigating Davitz before he got killed?”
“Like I said earlier, Mrs. Stone, I really can’t comment.”
Tossing her head back and rolling her eyes, Lucy stormed out the door. On the steps, she ran smack into Officer Barney Culpepper’s huge barrel chest.
“Take it easy, Lucy,” he said. “Are you all right?”
“Sorry, Barney. It’s just that Lieutenant Horowitz is so maddening. I swear, if I had a penny for every time that man told me he couldn’t comment, I’d be a rich woman.”
Barney chuckled.
“I don’t think it’s funny at all,” Lucy fumed. “I just don’t get the humor.”
At this, Barney’s belly began to heave with laughter. “It’s just . . . it’s just . . . if you could see yourself,” he said.
Lucy looked at him suspiciously. “Is my hair sticking up or something? Have I got spinach between my teeth?”
He shook his head helplessly.
“What? What’s so funny?”
He leaned against the railing and took a deep breath, then another.
“It was just the expression on your face,” he said, gaining control of himself. “You looked so mad.”
“I am mad. I went in with perfectly good intentions of sharing information, and Horowitz made fun of me.”
“What information?” Barney wiped his face with an enormous handkerchief.
“I just wanted to make sure he knew about those guys who were following Davitz.”
“Heller and Morton. They’re FBI.”
“Well, thanks for sharing.”
“Look, I gotta take care of myself, you know? I’m getting close to retiring, and I don’t want to blow it. Know what I mean?”
Lucy felt chagrined. “I know. I’m sorry, Barney. I’m just upset that suspicion seems to be focusing on Geoff Rumford, that’s all.”
The door opened and several officers exited the building. Barney took Lucy’s elbow and pulled her to the side of the stone steps.
“You just never know,” he said. “I’ve been surprised plenty of times before. The nicest people seem to do the worst things. Like that youth minister last year? Remember him?” He rolled his eyes.
Lucy remembered. He’d been charged with twenty-three counts of corrupting a minor.
“Geoff’s not like that,” insisted Lucy. “And he’s not a murderer, either. That research project could do a lot for this town, you know. Toby’s working for him this summer, and he says they’re making progress.”
“Toby’s working for him?”
The note of concern in Barney’s voice alarmed her. “Is that a problem?” she asked.
“Well,” he drawled, hitching up his heavy utility belt and lowering his voice. “This is just between you and me, and it’s not for publication, get my gist?”
Lucy swallowed hard. “I get it.”
“Maybe Toby should start lookin’ for another job.” He cocked an eyebrow and gave her a glance loaded with meaning. “That’s what I’d do, if I were him.”
For a second, Lucy felt as if she’d suddenly lost her footing and she grabbed Barney’s arm.
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. It wasn’t Geoff; I just know it. They’ve got the wrong guy.”
Barney patted her hand with a huge paw. “Lucy, they’ve got a witness. An eyewitness.”
“Big deal,” said Lucy, rallying to Geoff’s defense. “They’ve done studies, you know, and it turns out that eyewitnesses are not very reliable. They’re wrong most of the time, like that poor guy on death row. Eyewitnesses absolutely said he was the man, but when they did DNA testing it turned out it couldn’t have been him. They had to let him go.”
“Well, then, my advice to Geoff would be to get some of that DNA,” said Barney.
“Somehow you’re not making me feel better,” said Lucy, before turning and walking slowly toward her car.
Chapter Twenty-one
Back in the Subaru, Lucy faced the inevitable. She couldn’t put it off any longer; she had to go back to the harbor and talk to Wiggins. The harbor was where Davitz was killed, she reasoned, so that’s where she would most likely find a lead to this so-called eyewitness. As harbormaster, Wiggins was almost always there, and he would certainly know to whom the police had been talking in the past few days. In fact, Lucy wondered if Wiggins himself might be the witness. There was certainly no love lost between him and Geoff, and he would probably be more than happy to get Geoff in trouble. Of course, getting him to cooperate wouldn’t be easy. Maybe if she held out the promise of some favorable coverage in the Pennysaver? It would certainly be questionable from an ethical standpoint, she admitted to herself, but it might work. Heck, it was worth a try.
She parked and trotted up to the harbormaster’s office, noticing as she approached that it looked deserted. The office was about the size of a tollbooth and had windows on all four sides, making it easy to tell if anyone was there. She pulled on the door, thinking she might find a note with Wiggins’s whereabouts, or a phone number, but it was locked.
Momentarily stumped, she scanned the harbor. There was no sign of the Lady L or the police boat, but a number of small sailboats were tacking back and forth near the yacht club on the point. Probably sailing lessons.
On this side of the bay, there wasn’t much activity. The boats bobbing at their moorings or settled in their berths seemed deserted. The brand-new sign by the gas pump caught her eye, and she remembered how close Wiggins and Chuck Swift had come to a fight earlier that morning. She remembered Wiggins’s attempt to jab Chuck, and how Chuck responded by reaching for his gaff.
Her stomach tightened and she suddenly felt very cold. Could that be how it happened? Had Davitz challenged Chuck, or made some sort of wisecrack about local yokels? And had Chuck reached for his gaff and knocked Davitz on the head? Knowing how hot-tempered Chuck could be, Lucy thought it all too likely.
Considering how similar Chuck and Geoff looked, in identical yellow fishing pants and with heads of sandycolored hair, it would have been easy enough for an eyewitness to mistake one for the other. They were both young and lean, both about six feet tall. From any distance, it would be impossible to tell one from the other.
Lost in thought, Lucy was surprised when Lance Hemmings and Elizabeth pulled up to the dock in a beautifully refinished vintage cigarette boat. The craft had a gleaming mahogany hull and sleek lines. Despite her bulk, she was built for speed, and the enormous 1200-horsepower inboard engine could certainly supply it.
“Nice boat,” she said. “A present from your mom?”
Lance, like Elizabeth, had just graduated from high school. Norah had told her he was planning to go to Brown University in the fall.
“How’d you know?” he asked, blushing.
Lucy thought he was awfully good-looking, now that he had given up the orange hair and had removed the ring he used to wear in his nose. He’d filled out nicely, too. Formerly a beanpole, he’d bulked up and was now nicely muscled.
“Lucky guess,” she said, smiling. “I don’t suppose you think you’re taking my daughter out in that thing?”
“Mom!” protested Elizabeth.
“Just for a picnic out on Metinnicut Island,” he said. “It’s not far and I won’t go fast, I promise.”
Lucy looked doubtful. “Not go fast? I don’t believe it. Maybe I’d better come al
ong and chaperon.”
Lucy was only teasing; she had no intention of tagging along with Elizabeth and Lance. Elizabeth, true to form, rose to the bait.
“Mom! Are you crazy? You can’t come with us!”
“Why not, Elizabeth? I’m good company, aren’t I, Lance?”
Lance was a very well brought-up boy. “Of course you are, Mrs. Stone.” He squared his shoulders. “We’d be glad to have you.”
Lucy laughed. “No. You two go on and have a good time.”
Elizabeth looked very relieved.
“Are you sure?” asked Lance.
“I’m really sure,” said Lucy. “I was only joking. You go on and have a good time. Just don’t forget to keep your life jackets on.”
“Sure thing.” Lance paused. “I could take you for a little spin around the harbor.”
Lucy looked at the boat. It was gorgeous.
“Just a short one,” she said.
In a moment, Lance was standing on the dock beside her, offering his arm so she could lower herself into the boat. Taking a seat, Lucy admired the boat’s luxurious fittings while Elizabeth reached into the locker for the life jackets. She was zipping hers up when she heard sirens and looked up to see a line of police cruisers rolling into the parking lot with lights flashing.
That was no information meeting at the police station, she realized. It had been a briefing. No wonder Barney had told her Toby should think about a new job. He’d known they were planning to arrest Geoff any minute; the patrol boat was probably escorting the Lady L back to the harbor at this very moment.
Lucy looked toward the mouth of the cove, scanning the horizon for the Lady L. It was lucky she was here, she thought. Toby would be upset—maybe frightened, and certainly angry. Hopefully she could prevent him from doing something he’d regret later.
Lost in thought, she was taken completely by surprise when the boat lurched suddenly. Grabbing the taffrail that ran along the side of the boat, she turned just in time to see Wiggins knock Lance off his feet, onto the dock. Next thing she knew, he had taken the wheel and the boat lurched forward; she and Elizabeth were thrown violently back against the cushioned seat. Lucy grasped Elizabeth’s hand with one hand, and held on tightly to the rail with the other. Back on the dock, she saw a cluster of officers standing together, looking across the growing expanse of water at the boat. The group, Lucy realized with dismay as they sped across the cove, was steadily shrinking and would soon be little more than a dark-blue dot on the horizon.
When they passed Quisset Point, they were traveling at such high speed that the bow of the boat was in midair. Elizabeth had broken free from her grasp and was attempting to climb up the deck to reach Wiggins. Lucy yelled at her to sit down, but she couldn’t hear her own voice over the roar of the engine. Grabbing the taffrail, she managed to pull herself to her feet and tumbled against Elizabeth, bringing her back into the seat with her.
Elizabeth yelled something at her, but she couldn’t make it out. She signaled to Elizabeth that they should stay put, and Elizabeth nodded agreement. Just staying in the seat was becoming increasingly difficult; if they attempted to stand up, they would risk being tossed overboard. They each found handholds and hung on for dear life.
Focusing her attention on Wiggins, Lucy realized he wasn’t paying as much attention to the boat as she would like. He kept glancing at her and Elizabeth, kept checking the horizon behind them, and only occasionally glanced ahead. That was inviting disaster in this rocky water. Lucy was terrified he would smash into a submerged boulder, killing them all.
She looked back, hoping to see rescuers pursuing them, but the only boat in sight was a small speck in the distance. Her heart sank when it disappeared from view. Tears stung her eyes and she tried to tell herself it was because of the wind whipping at her face, but she knew she was truly terrified. Out in the open water it was cool, too, and she was shivering. Elizabeth’s teeth were chattering, and she was crying, too.
When the boat hit an obstacle—thankfully something not too large—and went soaring into the air only to land with a smack, Lucy realized she had to act. Wiggins was out of his head and didn’t care if he—or they—lived or died.
Desperate, she looked about the boat for some sort of weapon. All she could find was a net on a long pole, neatly stowed in clamps along the side board. She tapped Elizabeth on the arm and pointed to it. Elizabeth waited until Wiggins was looking the other way and grabbed for it. It clattered to the deck, but the noise was covered by the engines.
Lucy dropped to her knees and, bracing her feet against the side, managed to get close enough to grab the net. Her hands, she realized, were trembling, and her breath was coming in short gasps. Easy, she told herself, and she took a single deep breath. Then, using every bit of strength she possessed, she rose to her knees, inch by painful inch, and hurled the net over Wiggins’s head. Elizabeth dove for the loose pole and grabbed hold of it, hanging on fiercely as Wiggins struggled to free himself. The pole jerked wildly and Elizabeth was in danger of losing it until Lucy also grabbed hold. Together they were able to jerk Wiggins off his feet; Elizabeth could only keep him pinned to the deck for a second, but it was long enough for Lucy to pull the key out of the ignition and toss it overboard.
Jumping to his feet as the boat slowed, he screamed at them, “What did you do that for?” His face was red as a boiled lobster; the tendons on his neck stood out and his eyes were bulging. He’d lost his cap and his wispy hair was standing on end; his whiskers were quivering.
Sensing his raw rage, Lucy wondered if she’d made a big mistake. Now she and Elizabeth were marooned, alone in the middle of the empty sea with a madman.
“Take it easy,” she said, in the tone she used when Kudo spied the neighbor’s cat crossing the yard.
It usually worked on Kudo. Wiggins, however, reached for the net and snapped the pole in half. Taking the end, he began dancing around and threatening Lucy and Elizabeth with the sharp end.
“Stop it!” she yelled, in the tone of voice she used when Kudo ran off with Toby’s expensive new sneakers. “Give me that.”
Her eyes locked on Wiggins. His, she saw, were a weak, watery blue. She was determined to stare him down. After what seemed an eternity, he blinked.
“Give me the stick,” she said, speaking slowly and deliberately.
He dropped it and kicked it across the deck to her.
“Thank you. Now, do you want to tell me what this is all about?”
For a moment, Wiggins seemed puzzled. He looked around himself, as if seeing the boat and the water for the first time.
“They were coming to get me.”
“Who?” asked Lucy gently. “Who was coming to get you?”
She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d said men in white coats or creepy, slimy bugs or gigantic dinosaurs. What he did say surprised her.
“The cops.”
“The cops? Why would they come for you? They were coming for Geoff Rumford.”
Elizabeth gasped.
“I told ’em I saw him do it,” he said, “but I didn’t think they believed me.”
“They believed you all right,” Lucy told him. Under her breath she added, “until you ran.”
“I knew Geoff didn’t do it.” Elizabeth was triumphant. “You did it!”
Lucy silenced her with a glance.
Wiggins let out a long sigh and leaned against the side of the boat. He had grown pale and Lucy thought he looked exhausted. He shrugged.
“He was in my face, yelling at me. Telling me the parade float was all my fault, that nobody respected me. That I didn’t have things under control at the harbor.” He paused. “He said I was an idiot.”
“That must have made you angry,” Lucy suggested gently.
“You bet it made me mad. Who was he to tell me how to do my job? I bent over backward for that guy, all so the town could make some money and fix up the harbor. I didn’t have to do it, you know. I could have told him to take it as it was or l
eave, but I didn’t. I tried to do everything he wanted.”
“You took a lot of criticism for it, too.”
“I did.” Wiggins nodded. “But he was just going on and on at me. He just wouldn’t shut up. It was like this noise coming from his mouth, but no words. Just noise, ringing in my ears. And his mouth kept moving and moving, it wouldn’t stop. So I pulled my gun out of my holster, but even that didn’t shut him up. I finally hit him on the head.”
“What happened then?”
“He stopped talking and then he fell down. I figured I’d knocked him out. That was all I meant to do, I swear. I didn’t mean to kill him. I waited for him to stir, but nothing happened. He was real still. I reached for his arm—to take his pulse—but couldn’t find it. That’s when I realized he was dead, and I’d killed him.” He looked up at her, tears brimming in his eyes. “I couldn’t face it. How could I tell the commission?”
Lucy had a fleeting thought that the commission would probably vote to approve the harbormaster’s action.
“So you rolled him into the water?”
His head gave a little jerk.
He was pitiful, thought Lucy. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
“Look!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “It’s the Lady L.”
From across the water, the Lady L and its police escort were proceeding steadily toward them. Drawing alongside, Geoff leaped into the speedboat.
“Is everybody all right?”
“We’re fine,” said Lucy as a couple of police officers clambered aboard and cuffed Wiggins.
“I’m a little shaky,” whispered Elizabeth.
Geoff pulled his sweatshirt off and gently slipped it over Elizabeth’s head. When her face emerged, she smiled weakly at him. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he helped her climb aboard the Lady L. Then he turned and gave Lucy a hand up.
While Geoff fussed over Elizabeth, pouring her a hot cup of coffee, Toby followed the officer’s instructions and fastened a line to the speedboat so they could tow it in.
“We heard the police call on the radio and started looking for you as soon as we heard,” Geoff told them. “Do you have any idea where you are?”
