“That will be all for now, ladies. We may be back with more questions, so please don’t plan to leave the resort.” And just like that, they were gone, a deafening silence replacing the space the two officers vacated.
I sank into the armchair and stared down at my shaking hands. June sat in the matching chair, reached over, and took my hands in hers. “Listen, Francie.” Her voice was soft but steadfast. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if it’s true, and Bob really is dead, we both know you had nothing to do with it. You were too busy trying to keep both halves of your body attached.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. My head is splitting.”
“Let’s just leave this to the authorities to figure out. I’m sure they’re questioning everyone at this stage.”
“But they asked specifically for me. They had my scarf in an evidence bag, for crying out loud. We left it up in the DeVille’s suite, and I hardly think a little spilled wine is a crime. If it is, we’d both be doing twenty-five-to-life by now. Where did they get it, and why didn’t Angelina just tell them about the wine spill? I don’t like this one little bit. I’m calling Hamm and telling him to come get me.”
“Francie, calm down. Let’s not get Hamm and Jack worried over nothing. At least not yet. By morning, I’m sure the police will have everything figured out, and we can still enjoy our weekend. I think we all deserve it. I know the guys were really looking forward to their golf tournament, and you got me excited about trying my hand at some theater activities. Let’s just call it a night and start fresh in the morning.”
I gave in to June’s voice of reason, and after flipping through the literature I found on the end table and eating a Hershey bar I had stashed in my purse, I was ready to crawl into bed and give forty winks the old college try.
8
I am a tainted wether of the flock,/ Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit/
Drops earliest to the ground.
The Merchant of Venice
I woke up to an incessant clanking sound, reminding me of a metal cup being dragged across iron bars. I bolted upright in my bed and realized the source of the clanging was a voicemail alert on my phone, rather than an agitated prisoner in a jail cell. I had tossed and turned dreaming about maniacal magicians and murderous scarf-wearing convicts. Tentatively, I ran a hand across my midsection just to make sure I was still in one piece. Little by little, my head began to clear, mostly due to the amazing aroma of robust coffee brewing in the fancy, stainless-steel coffeemaker on the kitchenette counter. Breathing in the promise of caffeine, I reached for the bedside table and collected my phone to listen to the voicemail I had received sometime during the night.
Hamm had called me at five o’clock in the morning—not technically the middle of the night, but still. He wanted to wish me a fun and exciting day and to apologize again for not letting me know ahead of time that he and Jack had left the marina early to beat the storm. I was relieved that they had arrived safely at the golf resort, but the feeling was deflated by his goodbye words informing me that he wouldn’t have his phone with him until after their dinner at around nine. He was going to leave his phone on its charger like I had asked, so if I needed anything, I should call Jack’s phone. I was debating whether or not I should dial him up to fill him in about last night when June popped her head around the counter.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty. I thought I was going to have to pour this coffee directly down your throat to wake you up.” June, bright-eyed and dressed to impress in a cute khaki skirt and V-neck lavender top, handed me a steaming cup of the aromatic brew. She was tapping her purple-laced, tan topsiders on the vinyl floor of the kitchenette. She had, no doubt, already finished the first pot.
“Thanks. What time did you wake up? I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Oh, it was early. I didn’t check the clock.” June, vibrating with energy, plopped on the edge of the matching queen-size bed next to mine. “I can’t wait to get downstairs for breakfast and to hear what’s going on. You should take your coffee into the shower with you. We don’t have much time to eat before our first session starts.”
With a friend like June, my pensive mood didn’t stand a chance. Giving in to her enthusiasm, I decided to leave last night behind me and headed for the shower.
* * *
Since we were short on time, as June kept reminding me, we filled two plates apiece as we navigated our way through the buffet line. Sitting across the table from June, I couldn’t help but grin. There was enough food in front of her to feed three people her size—or two of mine.
“I don’t know why this place is called Devil’s Island. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a little slice of heaven.”
June was talking around mouthfuls of cheese-and-spinach quiche, cheese crepes, and cherry cheese Danishes. I had to agree that the food was heavenly, and aside from nearly being sawed in half and questioned by the police, the accommodations and service had all been impeccable.
Today was the first day of classes, and in spite of the early hour, the dining hall was full. Conversations buzzed all around us, and underneath the current of shoptalk and arguments over logistics, hushed whispers wafted to the surface.
“. . . man found dead right here in the resort . . . authorities not offering much information . . . messages hand-delivered to guest rooms . . . possible homicide on the property . . . all seminars still being held on schedule . . . resort on lockdown . . . no one permitted to enter or leave the property until permission was granted by the head detective.”
We were officially prisoners in paradise.
“How do you think the police got ahold of your scarf last night?”
“Hmm?” Just as I was beginning to get into the spirit of things, I was startled out of my musings by June’s question.
I didn’t have time to give the question more consideration, because Angelina pulled up a chair and sat down beside me. Dressed head to toe in black this morning, her understated pantsuit draped her curves but managed to look appropriately somber nonetheless. Her wardrobe choice confirmed my dark suspicion that Bob was indeed dead.
“I’m glad you ladies are up and about this morning. After last night, I was worried you might decide to lay low and stay in your room. Your room is suitable, isn’t it? If there’s anything you need, please call the number on your all-access pass and it will be taken care of right away. Damien feels horrible about the magic trick and sends his apologies. And then there is this tragedy with Bob. Our family is still reeling, trying to sort things out. Managing this resort is all-consuming, as you can imagine, and now this. Excuse me. I shouldn’t be rambling on about personal problems. How is your breakfast?”
“Everything is fine. Please don’t give us a second thought.” I poked a strawberry with my fork as I took in the finer details of Angelina’s appearance. The delicate skin under her eyes had the slightest tinge of purple, and both her thumbnails showed evidence of having been chewed.
“My most sincere condolences to you and your family.” Clearing my throat, I added, “Angelina, I hate to bring this up, but do you have any idea how the police got the scarf we left in your suite last night? They had it sealed in an evidence bag. Is there anything we should know about?”
June joined the conversation, having managed to swallow the mouthful of bacon she was chewing on when Angelina arrived. “Bob was never our favorite harbormaster, as you know, but we would never want to see him hurt. I can’t imagine this place without him. Do the police have any idea about what happened yet?”
Angelina waved her pale hand as if trying to make the unpleasant topic disappear. “They are following up on some leads.” Her voice trailed off, and before the ensuing silence had the chance to become awkward, Angelina’s head snapped up in the direction of the silky male voice coming from the handsome man who had appeared out of nowhere. “And who wants to know?”
“Gabriel. You startled me.” Angelina stood and exchanged a quick, familial kiss on the cheek with the mystery man
. “Please meet Francie and June. They are attending your weekend conference and have become special guests of mine and Damien’s. We met them because of some trouble that was stirred up by Bob down at the marina yesterday.” She stopped short, probably thinking it was better not to tempt fate.
“Enchanted, ladies. Gabriel DeVille. Any friends of my brother and his lovely wife are certainly friends of mine. Did I notice your names on the registry for my set design seminar this morning? I hope to become better acquainted with you both.”
The way his gaze bore into my brain, I felt like the room and all its inhabitants had magically melted away. Gabriel DeVille, although several years younger, was cut from the same cloth as his brother. But where Damien had jet-black hair and piercing brown eyes, Gabriel’s hair was a light brown, perfectly styled and kissed by the sun. It was impossible to tell whether the highlights were courtesy of Mother Nature or Lady Clairol. His eyes were the clear blue-green of the Caribbean Sea. Same chiseled features, same tall, strong build. Aahh. I mentally slapped my married face and looked over to my single friend who was doing a little melting of her own.
“Before I get finished setting up, Angelina, I was wondering if we could have a quick word?”
Angelina accepted Gabriel’s arm. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you ladies later. Do try to enjoy your day. ”
“Holy Adonis!” June licked her lips like a cat in a cream bowl as she gazed in admiration at the suave man ushering Angelina away on the crook of his elbow. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but those DeVille men are gorgeous. Except Bob. He may have fallen out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. Don’t you think?”
“I certainly won’t mind spending the next few hours staring at Gabriel DeVille as he presents the set design lecture. As for Bob, I think his outward appearance was a reflection of his dejected, hateful, poor me—”
Someone was tapping my shoulder. By the look on June’s face, I assumed it was not someone who needed to hear my inappropriate slandering of the recently departed Bob. I swiveled in my chair to face officers Rymer and Stark and a woman I didn’t recognize. “Uh, good morning officers.” I put on the best variation of my sweet and innocent face I could muster up in a split-second.
“Ms. Egge, this is Detective Evelyn Reed. She is going to be conducting the investigation into Mr. DeVille’s homicide. You will want to cooperate, I’m sure.” Officer Stark moved aside allowing the detective, the latest in the ever-expanding lineup of people I didn’t care to meet, to step forward. She was pretty but not in a flashy way. Her strawberry-blond hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and minimal makeup allowed a light sprinkle of freckles to decorate her nose and cheeks. It also allowed the dark circles below her eyes to betray the evidence of a sleepless night.
“Wait a minute. You’re saying Bob was murdered?” Was my scarf somehow used in a crime? I was heading down that dark path of doubt once more.
Detective Reed’s gaze scanned our breakfast spread and took in every inch of our space, cataloguing each minute detail before coming to rest on the lavender-and-rose designer scarf June had looped around her neck just before leaving our room. I hadn’t even considered the implication of her adorning her casual outfit with a jaunty scarf that morning until Detective Reed honed in on it.
“Good morning, ladies. I wanted to introduce myself and inform you that I will need to ask both of you some questions later today. I assume you’ll be here in the hotel for the remainder of the morning?”
As unruffled as always, June recited our entire schedule for the day and then got to her feet, ready to head to the fifth floor for our first workshop. “We’ll talk to you later, Detective. I don’t want to be late. Come on, Francie.”
9
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
and therefore is winged cupid painted blind.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
After taking our seats at one of the long tables in the fifth-floor conference room, I felt like I could relax again. “How do you do it, June? You just blew that detective off and acted like you weren’t even concerned that we’re going to be questioned for the second time in connection to a murder.”
“Well, we didn’t do it, did we?”
“No, but still. I think we’re under suspicion.”
“If we didn’t do anything wrong, they can’t prove that we did. So what’s the sense of getting all worked up?”
“I guess you’re right. Somehow I always end up feeling guilty even when I have nothing to hide. I suppose we should just try to enjoy ourselves and let the investigators find out who the real killer is. Do you think the person is still here on the island?”
June didn’t have a chance to answer. A short man resembling a ferret in a dreadful Hawaiian shirt barreled into the room. I held my breath waiting for the sleeping rodent on top of his head to spring to life and bite me, but thankfully the faux hair stayed put, and I was not subjected to whatever hid beneath it. I mean, really, as bad as that thing looked, I had no desire to find out the true condition of his scalp. Weasel Guy pulled a chair from the end of the long conference table and dragged it until he managed to maneuver himself into the space right between June and me. We were the only three people in the room and were now crowded together like the proverbial sardines in a tin.
“Hi. I’m Eddie. Eddie Sneed. You’re Francie and June, right?” His beady black eyes darted about, never coming to rest on either of us, which may have been a good thing. “Are you the ones who killed that guy in the stairwell? I heard all about you. You caught that killer on Kelleys Island, right? Are you undercover agents? Man, I can’t believe I got into this lecture with you. Everyone was all hyped up about that theater makeup demonstration, but when I saw the two of you signed up for this session, I just had to sign up. If we do a group activity, can I be in your group? Can I help you catch the killer? What are you doing for lunch? I’m free, if you’re planning to do some sleuthing. I’m really good at blending in.”
“Gooood morning, set designers.” Gabriel swooped into the room with a robust greeting meant for more than three attendees. He missed half a beat in his introduction as he scanned the conference area looking for the rest of the participants, but all he found was two ladies and a weasel-faced man scrunched shoulder-to-shoulder at the center table, surrounded by at least thirty empty chairs. At least Eddie Sneed finally shut his pie hole when Gabriel entered.
“Well, this is a bit more intimate than I had foreseen.” Gabriel pulled up a chair and sat on the opposite side of the table facing us. “To be honest, I’m not surprised. I guess word got out about the theater makeup demonstration. It’s supposed to be pretty entertaining this year.”
June leaned halfway across the table toward Gabriel. “I don’t see how we could complain about getting your undivided personal attention. It’s their loss, right guys?” She was addressing us, but never took her eyes off our instructor.
Gabriel held June’s gaze, and I started to feel like I was intruding on an intimate moment, until I heard the ding of an incoming text message from the pocket of her tan skirt. She reached under the table to retrieve her phone and sneak a peek at the screen. The spell was broken, and June’s cheeks were now blooming sweetheart-rose red. I couldn’t see around Eddie, and he was stretching his neck over her shoulder trying hard to get a look himself. I would just have to wait until we were alone to ask her about it, but I had a suspicion Jack Morgan had something to do with her high color. Geez, she was going to need to whip out her notebook soon to keep track of all the handsome men she was flirting with. Between the dreamy detective from Kelleys Island, and the rich, handsome business mogul, she had better be careful. I felt no jealousy toward my friend, though. My hubby was all I needed or wanted, even after more than twenty years of marriage, and it didn’t hurt that he was still in great shape and looked a lot like George Clooney.
“So what are we going to do today? Are we building a set? Is there going to be time to get a snack? Do we
need a pen and paper? Is there going to be a group project?” Eddie Sneed was starting to remind me of a naughty puppy that needed a swift dose of discipline.
Gabriel cleared his throat, trying to conceal a groan. June’s reflexes kicked in. She slapped her hand over Eddie’s mouth to shut him up, and I lowered my forehead to the cherrywood table, contemplating banging it a few times. And that is when Detective Reed walked into the room.
“Excuse me. I hope I’m not interrupting something too important. Are you acting out some sort of scene?” She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “I can wait a minute if you want to finish up. This looks interesting.”
Gabriel regained his composure first. “Hello again, Detective. We were actually just getting acquainted. What can we do for you?”
“I need to speak with Francesca and June, separately, for a few minutes, if you can spare them.”
“Of course. Anything we can do to help out.”
My guilty conscience was trying to rear its ugly head again as Gabriel offered me up to the detective like a sacrificial lamb.
“Ms. Egge, shall we go into the hall to speak?”
I didn’t feel like I had a choice, so I got up and followed her into the empty hallway. As the detective pulled the door closed behind us, I could hear Eddie start in on another round of rapid-fire questions. I was almost relieved to be leaving the room. Almost.
Reed stood with her back to the door and her arms crossed over her chest, presenting an intimidating figure despite her petite proportions. I was left trying to figure out what to do with my hands and whether or not I should make eye contact.
“May I call you Francie? I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Yes, of course, that’s fine, but I don’t have any idea what I could possibly contribute to your investigation.”
Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2 Page 4
