by Junie Coffey
“Good evening, Nina.” Victor had come up beside her.
“Victor!” she said with a smile, genuinely pleased to see him. “You look great! The jogging must be paying off.”
He smiled and took a sip of his drink. Veronica’s fresh-squeezed lemonade with a sprig of mint, Nina noted.
“So, you and Veronica seem to have hit it off,” she said, pleased but slightly puzzled. Maybe she had assumed the wrong thing about him.
“Yes. She’s marvelous. A bracing draft of fresh air. We’ve had a few good talks in here this week,” he said, looking down the bar at Veronica. They shared a private smile.
“Well, that’s nice. Veronica is great,” said Nina, still puzzled, but pleased. “Now, Victor, I’m sorry to bring this up, but it looks like you’ve lost our bet,” she said, changing the subject. “Look over there,” she said, pointing her chin at the lonely male traveler, now surrounded by new friends. “And the mysterious lady with the same taste in reading material is nowhere to be seen.”
“Well, actually, Nina, maybe it is a tie,” said Victor—a bit bashfully, Nina thought. “Half of our mysterious pair may have found a bit of romance in the moonlight. You see, Steve is quite a nice guy, actually,” said Victor, gesturing at the man. “He’s on some kind of sabbatical from Silicon Valley and is sailing around the world. He’s invited me to tag along for a bit, and I think I might, at least as far as Guadeloupe or maybe even Curaçao. You’ve set an example. I’m going to take a few risks and see what happens. It’s quite thrilling, really. Veronica has been plying me with salad and jogging and stern talking-tos, and I think I like feeling the blood course through my veins again.”
He gave Nina a cautious smile.
Aha, thought Nina.
“That’s great, Victor,” Nina said. “It sounds like a grand adventure. Send me a postcard, all right?”
“Of course,” said Victor. “We’re leaving tomorrow as soon as the provisions are stowed, but Steve has invited some people out for a moonlight sail tonight. Will you join us?”
Nina thought for a moment.
“Thanks, Victor, but I think I’ll have to give dinner a pass, if you’ll forgive me. I’m a little tired. I think I need an early night. I’d better say goodbye now.” She decided not to mention her own emotional state or the fact that a few days ago Victor had suggested Steve might be a psychopathic murderer. “See you soon, Victor.”
She reached up and gave him a big hug. He hugged her back and kissed her cheek.
“Righto, then. I like your handsome man, by the way. He’s a keeper, I’d say. Take care, Nina.”
Nina watched him walk over to Steve’s table and join the group of laughing vacationers. Then she turned back to the bar, looking for Veronica. The restaurant owner was standing a short distance away, also watching Victor.
“Veronica,” said Nina, “thank you for whatever you did.” She leaned across the bar and gave Veronica a hug.
“He’s a good man. Just a little sad. But Pineapple Cay has worked some magic on him. He’ll be all right,” said Veronica. She smiled and rapped her knuckles on the bar, then went down to the other end to serve some thirsty customers.
Nina slid onto a stool and looked around, thinking she might just go home. She wasn’t really in the mood for a crowd of happy revelers tonight.
“Nina. Jeez, I’m late. But guess what I found out?” It was Danish, walking rapidly behind the bar and tying an apron around his waist. He glanced over at Veronica, who gave him a stern look, and then he leaned down until his face was close to Nina’s.
“I was over on the wharf, shooting the breeze with the guys while they cleaned their catch. Warren happened to mention that he took a woman over to Delancy’s Island in his boat yesterday, i.e., the day we plummeted into the sea in a faulty golf cart.”
“Really? Who?” said Nina. “Sylvia and Bridget were on the Take-a-Chancy. They didn’t need a lift over to try to kill you or me. And if it’s a woman, that means it wasn’t Razor, either. Who else is there?”
“She didn’t give a name. Paid him a hundred dollars cash.”
“What time?” she said.
“Morning, he said. She asked him to come back at five o’clock to get her, down-island a ways from the main dock. He thought she was a craft vendor or something. They travel back and forth from Pineapple Cay every day. She had a bag with her.”
“What did she look like?” Nina asked.
“Warren was a little light on details. He said brown hair about this long,” he gestured to his neck. “Average size. Not too fat. Not too thin.”
“That could be just about anyone,” said Nina. “Let’s see. Maybe Sylvia tried to kill Philip, then Philip tried to kill Sylvia, or Razor tried to kill Philip, then Philip tried to kill Sylvia, thinking she had tried to kill him. Except Philip has an alibi for the night at Sylvia’s. So, maybe Razor accidentally broke into Sylvia’s bungalow thinking it was Philip’s, and ran away when he realized it wasn’t. Then someone else decided to get in on the action . . . I don’t know.”
“I’ve got to get to work. The boss is giving me the evil eye,” said Danish, grabbing a tray and heading out onto the floor to clear some tables.
Nina was stumped. Everyone seemed to have a motive to kill Philip. And the means to do so seemed to be easily accessible—poison apples, crab cakes, feather pillows for smothering, and shears to cut the brake cable on a golf cart. Fewer people on the list of suspects had the opportunity. Everyone had an alibi for at least one of the three murder attempts, which meant that either there was a murderous team at work or it was a series of inept murder attempts by two or three different people. Or it was someone Nina, Danish, and Pansy—and maybe the police—hadn’t considered. Nina sighed heavily and headed for home. She had a shower and crawled into bed, trying not to think about how Ted might be spending his evening just a few hundred yards away.
Nina dawdled around home the next morning. The remaining conference delegates had the morning to themselves to pack and enjoy a last few hours on the beach. Philip, Bridget, and Razor were all booked on the same flight off the island in the late afternoon. Sylvia had decided to stay on an extra few days as a guest of Nancy Delancy. Nina sat on her veranda with her coffee for a long time. She could hear Les’s voice and Bridget’s distinctive laugh coming from the direction of his hot tub. This morning he was playing “Roxanne” by the Police at a slightly lower volume. She could live with it.
Nina wrote a light, newsy e-mail to her parents in Maine, and a more revealing one to her best friend, Louise, in New York. Then she weeded the flower beds along the path to her front door, attempted to cut the grass with the machete she’d bought at the hardware store, and watered her window boxes. After spending an hour at her kitchen table planning her lessons for the online courses she was due to start teaching in a couple of months, she made herself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. After lunch, she read for a while. She had just sat down on the edge of the veranda, her back against a post, to have a cup of tea and listen to the waves when she heard a knock at the front door. It was not followed by the sound of heavy footsteps through her house, so that ruled out Danish. It was Pansy.
“Hi, Nina,” Pansy said when she opened the door. Pansy had a look of concern on her face.
Who said what to whom? Who told Pansy, “Nina’s feeling blue”? Nina wondered. The Pineapple Cay bush telegraph was a more effective means of communication than fiber-optic cable.
“I just finished showing a few houses in The Enclave, and I have a little while before I need to pick up the kids up from their playdate. I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine, Pansy,” Nina said, smiling to prove it. “I was just having a cup of tea before going to the inn to see off the last batch of delegates and settle up with Michel. Do you think you could give me a lift?”
“Sure,” said Pansy with a reassuring smile. They climbed into her turquoise golf cart. When they got to the inn, the remaining conferenc
e delegates were milling around the lobby between piles of luggage waiting to be shuttled to the airport. Bridget was standing by the door checking off names on a clipboard. Razor Hudson was over in the corner typing furiously on his laptop. Sylvia was chatting with Michel in another corner. She must have come up to say goodbye to the other delegates. Philip was nowhere to be seen. Nina went over to Bridget.
“Bridget, where’s Philip?” she asked. “He should be here by now. The flight leaves in an hour.”
“I know,” said Bridget. “I haven’t seen him. I knocked on his door on the way over here, but there was no answer. I had to get down here, so I couldn’t wait. I figured he’d gone for a last walk on the beach before we leave.”
That sounds more like something Bridget would do than Philip, thought Nina. She was starting to get alarmed.
She turned to Pansy. “I don’t think anyone has seen Philip since the conference ended yesterday at around five o’clock. I’m going to run down to his bungalow and see if he’s there.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Pansy.
They walked quickly down the front steps and across the lawn to the row of bungalows. Nina took the stairs up to Philip’s door two at a time. She knocked. There was no answer. She tried the doorknob. The door opened easily. She and Pansy stepped inside.
“Philip!” called Nina. No answer. His room was neat, the bed was made, and his laptop stood open on the desk. A pair of trousers and a white shirt were folded over the back of a chair. He had not packed yet.
The hairs stood up on the back of Nina’s neck. She crossed the room and pushed open the door to the walled-in garden shower, afraid of what she might see. But it was empty. It looked like it had been recently cleaned by the housekeeping staff. A freshly folded towel and a wrapped bar of soap sat on a teak stool by the taps. There was no sign of a struggle. Maybe he had gone AWOL for his own reasons.
She studied the papers on his desk without touching them, looking for a clue as to his whereabouts, but they were just notes for his article on The Pirate’s Wake, as far as she could tell.
“He’s not here,” Nina said. “Let’s go back to the lobby and see if Sylvia or Razor has seen him today.”
They walked quickly back to the inn’s main building. As they entered the lobby, they could hear a frantic conversation at the front desk. It was Steve, Victor’s new friend. He was talking to Josie, the front desk manager. He seemed alarmed about something. He was holding the same paperback novel Victor and Nina had seen him reading the first day on the beach. The thriller with the lurid red-and-black cover.
“I was packing to leave,” he was saying urgently. “I picked up my book to put it into the bookshelf on my boat, and these fell out of it.”
He held up a conference brochure and spread a couple of other sheets of paper on the desk in front of Josie. Nina and Pansy leaned in to see. One sheet was a map of the Plantation Inn grounds, with Philip and Sylvia’s bungalow marked with an X. The brochure was also marked up. All of Philip’s presentations and the sessions he was moderating were circled. The third piece of paper was a printed page from the Internet on bush medicine. There was a picture of a manchineel tree and a summary of its poisonous properties. Nina and Pansy looked at each other.
“Excuse me, Steve, where did you get this?” asked Nina.
“I don’t remember getting it anywhere. I thought it was my book until this stuff fell out of it a little while ago. My boat’s moored out in the cove,” he said, gesturing outside. Nina could see Victor tying up a tender to the dock, then walking quickly across the lawn and into the lobby to join Steve.
“Victor says this is the guy someone tried to kill,” Steve said, tapping Philip’s name with his finger. “I thought I’d better let someone know, so you can pass it on to the police, if it’s relevant.”
“Victor,” said Nina. “Do you remember? This is the same book our mystery woman was reading. It’s her! She’s the one who tried to kill Philip. But who is she?”
Victor shook his head. “I’ve never seen her before in my life,” he said.
Nina searched her mind frantically, then spun around to face Pansy.
“Pansy! She was wearing earrings I’m pretty sure you made. Did you sell a pair of green sea-glass earrings to a dark-haired woman in the last week or so? She was by herself. Did she tell you where she was staying or anything else?” said Nina.
“I sold a few pairs. Let’s see. Bridget came in to the shop and bought some white glass ones yesterday. Some women over from Orlando for a girls’ weekend a week ago. Probably not them. Some yachties, but they had a couple of husbands trailing after them. A young woman came in a few days ago, but she had blonde hair. Oh, there was Susan. She arrived a while ago, almost a week before your conference began. Dark hair. She’s traveling on her own. Just wanted some solitude by the sea, she said. Doing some bird-watching. She said she was recently divorced. I rented a villa to her, down near the salt ponds. That’s where the birders like to go. No one for miles around. She bought the earrings when she came into the office to pay for the rental. Come to think of it, she paid in cash. Sometimes people do, to avoid the credit-card fees on foreign exchange.” She and Nina locked eyes.
Nina walked quickly across the lobby to where Sylvia sat with Michel, drinking tea.
“Excuse me, Sylvia,” Nina said. “What is Philip’s second wife’s name?”
Sylvia looked with surprise from Nina to Pansy to Victor and Steve, who were all hanging on her answer.
“It’s Suzanne. Suzanne Lafontaine.”
“What does she look like?” asked Pansy.
“Like a silly young girl. A ponytail and a tight sweater,” said Sylvia.
“I’m guessing she has changed a bit since then,” said Nina. “Sylvia, have you seen Philip today?”
“No, not since yesterday afternoon,” said Sylvia. “Why? What’s the matter?”
Josie came out from behind her desk. “Would everyone leaving on the five forty-five flight please collect your hand luggage and proceed to the vans out front? We’re sorry to see you leave, but it’s time to go. Safe travels, and please come back and see us again soon!” she said with a smile.
All around them, guests started to gather their belongings and make their way outside to the vans.
“I won’t be sorry to see them go,” said Nina under her breath, running over to where Razor was packing up his laptop.
“Razor, have you seen Philip today?” Nina asked him.
“No, I haven’t. Hopefully, I’ll never see him again. Thank you for everything, Nina, but I won’t be at the conference next year. I’m putting in for a six-week stay at the research station in Antarctica. Or maybe I’ll replicate that study by the guy who lived alone on an island for a year to see what effect it had on him. I’d do the biosphere, but I think they shut that down. I’ve also heard of this project up in Canada where volunteers live like nineteenth-century pioneers for a year. Time travel. I’m mulling over lots of ideas.” He stuck out his hand, and Nina shook it.
“Well, have a safe trip, Razor, and good luck with everything.” She jogged back over to where Michel and Sylvia were now standing.
“Michel,” said Nina, “Philip Putzel is missing. We think he might have been abducted or maybe killed by his second ex-wife, Suzanne Lafontaine. She’s rented a house down near the salt ponds—Pansy, where is it exactly?”
“It’s the old foreman’s house overlooking the pans,” said Pansy.
“Oh my,” said Sylvia.
“Right,” said Nina turning back to Michel. “Michel, could you please call the police and tell them we think that’s where she is and that she probably has Philip?”
“Of course,” he said, walking as quickly as Nina had ever seen him move over to the phone at the reception desk. Nina and Pansy were sprinting across the driveway to Pansy’s golf cart when Danish came strolling leisurely across the lawn from his quarters.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, mujeres. Where’s the fire?” he said, int
ercepting Pansy and Nina.
“Get out of the way or get in, Danish. We’ve got a situation,” said Nina.
“It’s Philip Putzel,” said Pansy. “We think his ex-wife is trying to kill him, if she hasn’t already!”
“Sylvia?” said Danish.
“No. His other ex-wife,” said Nina.
All three of them sprinted toward Pansy’s golf cart and threw themselves in. Nina gripped the dashboard as Pansy peeled away from the curb. Danish sprawled across the back seat and struggled to right himself. Nina turned all the way around in her seat to talk to the other two.
“I’m pretty sure the woman I saw on the beach at the inn and then having dinner here is Philip’s second wife! Only Philip and Sylvia would recognize her, but her plan would be spoiled if either saw her. That’s why she tried to keep such a low profile, wearing a big hat and sunglasses on the beach and disappearing when Victor sent a bottle of wine to her table. She didn’t want to be noticed, but she wanted to keep track of Philip’s movements.”
“Why would she try to kill Sylvia?” asked Pansy.
“Jealousy?” suggested Danish.
“I don’t think so,” said Nina. “I think maybe she just got the rooms mixed up. Philip shared the bungalow with Sylvia, and the outdoor showers were side by side.”
“So, the brakes on the golf cart were also meant for Philip?” said Danish.
“I think so,” said Nina. “If you remember, both Philip and you and I were driving red golf carts. We were parked side by side at our last stop. Maybe we took his cart or he took ours by accident, or she cut the cable on the wrong cart. Philip was the target all along. During all this, we forgot about the other significant person in his life who might have a serious grudge against him. Philip has a reputation for collecting adoring young women and then unceremoniously shedding them that goes all the way back to Sylvia.”
“Oh Lord. I’ve got to call Andrew and have him pick up the kids. Here, Nina, take the wheel for a minute,” said Pansy, letting go of the steering wheel and digging in her purse for her phone. Nina grabbed for the wheel as the cart lurched sideways. Pansy had a hurried conversation with Andrew, then slipped the phone back into her purse and took control of the steering wheel again.
