He circled back and rubbed against my ankles, then dashed off again. I followed—a bit wobbly on my heels, but game. What else was I going to do?
Mr. Barlow had done one thing right—he’d had a patio built at the edge of the cliff, a wide, flagstone-lined expanse that jutted out over the edge, giving a wonderful view of the surf below, crashing on the rocks, sending huge sprays of sea water surging up the face of the cliff. It was a spectacular view and I lingered, pulling my suit coat in against the cool breezes, staring out at the sea and thinking of eighteenth century galleons sailing past, sails full of ocean wind. A strong, handsome captain, nimble sailors hanging from the ropes, pirates, brigands and pieces of eight and a captured maiden dressed in a satin gown. All that stuff that romantic historical novels were filled with. I sighed.
But the cat was still crying, jumping up to run along the edge of the railing on a very precarious path, rubbing against the risers.
“What is it, kitty?” I asked him.
His answer was piteous and distressed, as though I just wasn’t listening. I got on my knees on the seat that ran around the perimeter and leaned out over the ocean, looking down.
And then, I saw it.
“Oh no.” I gasped, pulling back as though I could erase what I’d seen if I didn’t acknowledge it. But I knew very well that wasn’t going to work. What I’d seen was the owner of this property lying at the base of the cliff, stretched out over the jagged black rocks. I leaned out again, looking harder. Yes, it was Ned Barlow and he looked very, very dead. I reached for my cell phone but my hands were shaking so hard, I couldn’t operate it at first.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered as I worked at it.
Silver had stopped meowing. His task accomplished, he needed a break and took some time for a bit of a bath. I watched him seriously begin to attack the fur on his back leg as I waited for my 911 call to go through.
“Hello. Yes.” I gave them the address and told them what I’d seen. “Yes, it’s Ned Barlow’s home. I…I’m afraid it might be Ned Barlow on the rocks.”
I winced as I realized how that sounded, but it was too late to retract it now.
“Yes, please hurry.”
I closed my eyes and waited. It seemed like forever before I heard the sirens coming my way, and then I rose and walked toward the parking area to meet them. I knew what was coming next. I’d just gone through it before with a body in my aunt’s front yard.
“Here we go again,” I murmured to myself. And then I turned to greet the first car.
“I can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself involved in another …incident.”
My aunt Bebe was apoplectic. I was hanging out at her house until I got together enough money to get a place of my own. In fact, she was the one who’d wrangled the job for me. As a local businesswoman, she had contacts in town government places. Lucky for me.
“What are people going to think? You’re going to get a reputation. They’re going to avoid going to places where you’re seen, just in case you have murder on your mind. They’re going to begin crossing the street when they catch sight of you. A harbinger of doom!”
“You’re the one who got me this job,” I said back, being just as wildly illogical as she was. “I can’t help it if people in this town tend to keel over when they see me coming.”
Bebe glared at me, then sighed, her shoulders sagging, and we both calmed down. I knew I should give her some room and a bit of understanding. Her relationship with Michael, a local high school teacher who used one of her warehouses for projects by the 4H kids he was advising, was stumbling a little from what I could see—and she was definitely upset about it.
I had nothing but sympathy for her. I knew how it felt.
“At least you got a cat out of the deal,” she grumbled, sounding sarcastic. “Just what Sami always wanted. A live-in pal.”
I looked over at the patch of floor Silver had taken over for himself. He blinked at me, his baby blue eyes shining. I couldn’t help it—I did like that cat-even if he did put Sami’s nose out of joint.
“I couldn’t leave him there with all the forensics going on and all. Nobody else stepped forward, so I did.” I gave her a half-hearted smile. “Just be glad I didn’t volunteer to take the parrot as a bonus.”
Bebe frowned, leaning toward me and searching my eyes. “Mele, I’m sorry. I haven’t thought about what you’ve been going through today. Really honey…” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Are you okay? What did they ask you? Was your handsome detective there?”
That gave me a quiver. “The man isn’t ‘mine’ in the first place. And in the second, he’s cold as ice these days. I don’t know what I did to turn him off, but he’s definitely not interested any longer.”
“Oh.” She made a face. “That’s too bad. I thought he was really cute.”
“Me too. Kind of. Cute is as cute does, though,” I said, downgrading the detective in my mind. “Oh well.” I frowned, thinking of what he’d said about my corsage. I’d thought it odd at the time. Maybe Bebe could clear it up. “So what do you call this orchid?” I asked her, pointing to it.
She glanced at it. “Uh…that’s a Phalaenopsis. Why?”
I bit my lip. “Because Detective McKnight named it when he saw it. Seems like a funny thing for a man like that to know, doesn’t it?”
She shrugged. “Maybe he grows orchids in his spare time,” she suggested airily.
I made a face. Cops don’t grow orchids. They follow their own rules and get yelled at by their chief and get thrown off the case. Or so TV has always told me. But orchids? I hardly thought that could be possible, but stranger things had turned up lately, so who knew?
I gave her a sideways look. “And speaking of men, what’s the deal with Michael lately? I haven’t seen him around for awhile.”
Actually, I had seen him, just not with her. Just the day before, when I went out to take a walk, I saw Michael driving off with Sherry in his car. That gave me pause. Sherry was very pretty and very young and very curvaceous. All the things that make for trouble when they come sashaying around between a man and his usual girl friend. A little clingy for my taste, but then I’m not a guy. For all I know, they like that sort of thing.
Sherry had played the “poor little me” victim card during our last escapade, claiming that the winery owner had seduced her and dropped her almost immediately thereafter. There was no denying that Kyle was a bad guy, but she had laid it on a bit thick, and Michael had seemed to fall right into her trap—wanting to take care of her.
Poor Bebe. It looked like she might have lost her man this time around. Still, she did have one card left to play. Bebe ran a huge cut flower operation and Sherry worked for her, managing the flower bundler group. It was an important job and it paid pretty well. If Bebe wanted to get tough, she obviously could make a real difference in Sherry’s life.
But knowing Bebe, I was afraid she was prepared to suffer in silence. Hmmm. It might be something to think about for the future. Things could use a little shaking up around here.
But right then, she didn’t want to talk about it and she changed the subject quickly.
“Okay, I need help with a very big decision.”
I nodded. “I’m ready to assist in any way I can,” I said lightly.
“Here it is. Should we get a Christmas tree this year?”
I blinked in surprise. “Don’t you usually?”
She looked like the question worried her. “I’ve had a little artificial tree for ages but last year it finally began to fall apart. So now I’ve got the dilemma—to tree or not to tree.”
“Why not?” I said helpfully. “But make it a real one this time.”
She frowned and I jumped in before she could give her reasons for fakery. “You’re a flower grower. You deal in the real thing all the time. Don’t you think it’s kind of lame to get a fake tree, when real plants are your life?”
She shook her head, looking bored with it all. “Oh, whatever. Now
you’ve made it into such a big deal, I think I’ll take a pass after all.” She shrugged. “Too much trouble. Christmas is for kids anyway.”
I found myself studying her response. I didn’t really care, but there was something in her voice, something in her eyes, that told me she did on a certain level. I wondered why.
And then my cell chimed in with a message from the police, requesting my presence at the station house within the hour. I noticed it wasn’t from Detective McKnight. Oh well.
Chapter Three
I went over at the suggested time. I figured they wanted me to sign a few more papers because I was Activities Director and had gone for that meeting with Ned, so I was surprised to find out I wasn’t just a witness—I was a suspect!
When I got to the station, I was ushered into a room that looked suspiciously like the sort of place where they questioned the bad guys. It even had a large window that I was pretty sure was set up so others could see me, but I couldn’t see them.
“What is all this about?” I asked the clerk who showed me in.
She shrugged. “The captain will be here in just a moment,” she said. “He has a few questions for you.”
“Am I a suspect?” I asked, shocked and pretty much outraged at the possibility.
She barely risked a smile. “Sorry. I can’t talk about that. You’ll be able to ask the captain any moment now.” And she made a quick escape.
I sat there fuming. On what possible ground could they suspect me of foul play? It didn’t make any sense at all.
The door opened and Detective McKnight came in. He didn’t smile.
“Hi,” he said, not sitting down.
“Hi,” I returned warily. “You all don’t really think I’m a suspect, do you?”
He looked surprised. “Who said you were?”
I shrugged. “Why am I here in the interrogation room?”
He made a face but didn’t answer.
“You saw me before I went out to Ned’s house,” I said defensively. “You know how nervous I was.”
“True. But by the time you got there, there was no more reason for you to confront him. Ned was already dead. Right?”
“Yes. Lucky for me, huh?”
He looked troubled. “I don’t know about that. So you didn’t have anything to do with that, did you? You didn’t get there, argue, and give him a little push?”
I gasped, unable to believe this man could suspect…no, even suggest!--something like that. “No. I didn’t do that. I’ve never killed anybody and I don’t plan to.” Though if I did ever go on a spree, a certain suddenly indifferent cop would be the first on my list.
He nodded, so I guess he couldn’t read my mind.
“If you guys are cooking up some crazy little conspiracy theory about me, you can just…”
He held up a hand to stop me and finally he smiled. “Okay. Don’t worry. I knew that. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Okay. I’m glad we understand each other.”
“Oh yeah. No worries on that score.” He turned and opened the door. “Just be cool. Tell him the truth. You’ll be okay.” And he was gone.
I stared after him, realizing he wasn’t the one who was questioning me. That meant the Captain was going to be my guy, didn’t it? My grand inquisitor. Oh boy.
The door opened and a tall man with silver hair cropped close and curly, like silver wire, and a sharp, though handsome face entered. I’d seen him before, but this was the first time we’d spoken. He held out his hand and smiled.
“Ms. Mele Keahi, isn’t it? I’m Captain Stone. A pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
That threw me off a bit. I shook his hand but I didn’t smile.
“I’ve already been questioned at the house,” I noted, sounding like someone saying, “I gave at the office. Don’t bother me for more!”
His mouth stayed in a smile but his eyes lost it immediately. “Yes, but you haven’t been questioned by me,” he said simply, dropping into a chair across the table from where I sat. “I understand you haven’t been here in our little town for long. Is that right?”
I nodded. “I’ve only been here a few weeks. I’m staying with my Aunt, Bebe Miyaki.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “And yet you’ve already been the one to find two separate dead people within moments of their deaths. Isn’t that right?”
“Moments?” The word threw me off. “I don’t know about ‘moments’. I did arrive pretty soon after they…it had happened in each case, I guess. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Don’t you find it curious that you’re always the first one to find the body lately?” he said, staring at me with suspicious eyes. “I’m wondering if this is going to be some new trend.”
To tell the truth, I couldn’t understand that one myself, but I would have eaten dirt before I would have admitted it to him.
“Just lucky I guess,” I snapped at him.
“It’s interesting. You know, we don’t have a lot of crime in North Destiny Bay. In fact, we’ve only had three murders all year. And you found two of those victims-and weren’t far from the third. Strange, don’t you think?”
I did, but I wasn’t going to admit it. I got stuck on the facts as he was presenting them, though. “You’ve definitely decided Ned Barlow was murdered?” I asked. “Couldn’t he have just fallen? An accident?”
He shook his head. “Highly unlikely. The coroner believes evidence suggests murder. The trajectory of the fall is in accordance with a push, not a jump. And only moments before you say you arrived. And yet, you didn’t see anyone, hear anything?”
“No, I didn’t.” I hesitated, suddenly remembering the flash of red I’d thought I noticed in the forested area behind the house. I hadn’t told anyone because I’d forgotten all about it. Should I…?
“It wouldn’t be wise to hide information from the investigation, Ms. Keahi. I want to know everything you know. And please don’t forget that hiding pertinent information from the police is a felony. You can do time for that.”
Anything I might have had to say got stuck in my throat after that. I sat there, eyes wide and a sort of tingling in my soul. How did I know what was pertinent and what wasn’t? I wasn’t actually involved in this in any way.
Just an innocent bystander—that was me. Oh boy.
“The entrance to the Barlow mansion is about half a mile from the main road,” he pointed out, shuffling through papers that seemed to be my statement from earlier that day. “If a murder had just occurred, you should have passed the murderer going the other way as you came in.” He pinned me with a steady stare. “Are you sure you didn’t see any other cars? Any other person?”
I nodded. “I’m sure,” I said, my voice breaking in the middle in a very embarrassing way. I coughed to cover it up, then added, “I was thinking at the time that his place was sort of isolated and out of the way. Spooky, even. I was a little nervous about being out there with only him after the way he’d treated me when we met before….”
Now I was in danger of babbling. I bit my lip and forced myself to stop.
“Of course, there might be a good reason you passed no one,” he said in a low voice, heavy on the vibrato. “If you were the perpetrator, there would be no one to pass. Isn’t that right, Ms. Keahi?”
Words were tumbling into my aching head, crazy words, things that were going to get me into trouble if they made any sense at all, and I had to stop them. I put a hand over my mouth and suddenly noticed that Dante was standing behind the Captain, looking right at me—something he hardly ever did. He was shaking his head slightly, as though warning me, and then he put a finger to his lips.
I stared at him, perplexed. What did he mean? Lower your voice? Don’t babble? Don’t spill the beans? But there were no beans to spill!
Suddenly I knew it meant all of those things and one more, the most important one. Don’t antagonize the captain. It can only bring you gri
ef.
I took a deep breath and then I took Dante’s advice. I even managed to smile. But no one seemed to be telling the captain he ought to take it easy. His next statement was a doozy.
“We’ve had reports that you were discussing methods of murder for Ned Barlow this morning at the Mad For Mocha coffee bar. Is that right?”
I choked. I don’t know what I choked on, but it took a minute or two for me to catch my breath and get rid of that what-ever-it-was in my throat so that I could talk normally again. And by that time, it seemed like we’d both forgotten what this was all about—and Dante had vanished.
The captain looked over his papers and quickly went back over every detail I’d given the detective who’d taken my statement. I kept my temper and kept the peace. We didn’t exactly become best buds, but we ended up in fairly good spirits, and he’d given up on trying to make me feel like a liar.
“I’ll see you at the meeting tonight,” he said as he ushered me toward the door.
That stopped me. “What?” I said, turning on my heel to stare at him. “What meeting?”
“The Victorian Village Community Support meeting. I’m sure you’re planning to marshal your forces to defeat the reinstatement of the lawsuit against the pageant.”
“Oh. Yes of course.” I frowned. “But what are you coming for?”
“Are you kidding? Whoever killed Ned Barlow will probably be in that room. I think I ought to be there, don’t you?”
“Oh. Certainly.” I gave him a stiff smile. “Then I’ll see you later, won’t I?”
“Seems like.”
He stood with his arms crossed across his chest and watched me leave, so I got the pleasure of feeling awkward and self conscious all the way down the hall. But I still glanced into rooms as I passed, wondering where my detective guy was hiding now. It seemed strange that he was suddenly so often gone from my life.
“Another day, another dead guy,” Jill said as she poured out my latte. “Don’t you get tired of making statements to the police?”
Ghost On Duty (Destiny Bay Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 2
