Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2

by Maureen K. Howard

  June zipped past me and into the hall. “Did you see anyone come out of the room? A man?”

  She was straining her eyes in the direction from which I had come.

  “No, I didn’t see anyone. What’s going on in here?”

  June looked from the stranger to me. “I’m not sure, exactly, but I got here just in time.”

  The lady with the bouncy brown curls regained her composure, slipped into her complimentary robe, grabbed her clothes, and stopped long enough to lock eyes with me before leaving the room. “I’m going to find security and report this. That man was not a masseur. If he was, he was awfully rough. He nearly choked me. If your friend hadn’t come in here and startled him, who knows what might have happened.” And with that, she was gone.

  For the first time since entering the room, I got a good look at June. She was dressed in her own clothes, and her hair looked amazing. Of course, no one else on the planet could pull off her style, but that’s what made it all the more beguiling. The color was lighter than it had been. It looked like a platinum halo, shimmery little spikes sticking up like mini sparklers tipped in various shades of gold.

  “What the heck have you been up to, June? And again, what’s going on in here?”

  “Well, when my massage was finished, I was told you got off to a later start, so I decided to take advantage of one other free service.” Her hand went up instinctively to finger her masterful new hairdo.

  “I can see that. Whoever styled your hair was a genius. And speaking of hair, did that lady’s hair look just like mine or what?”

  “That’s just it, Francie. When I was finished, I came back to find you. I looked in the obvious place—the room with your name on the door—and when no one answered my knock, I peeked inside, only to see some goon with his hands around your neck. Correction: someone who looked an awful lot like you from behind.”

  “I was moved to a different room at the last minute. Do you think the guy was really trying to hurt that lady?”

  “It looked like it to me. It also looked like he might have mistaken her for someone else.” June’s angelic face was marred by a shadowy veil. I imagine my own face had lost its contented glow too. June followed me back to my reassigned room so I could get out of the sheet and back into my own clothes.

  “I think we better talk to Sasha. She must be able to tell us something. Let’s find her right now and get to the bottom of this.”

  “I can’t argue, Francie. Sasha has to know something, and she’s going to have to tell us what.”

  I finished dressing and checked the mirror. My hair would have to stay in its state of disarray for now. This was war. Well, not technically war, but I was up for a good face-off. June swiped her fingers through her hair, and now it looked more like her version of a warrior headdress than a halo.

  We retraced our steps through the facility, popping our heads into the locker room, stepping into the various pool areas, and finally opening the door to the sauna. We found who we were looking for. Sasha was slumped sideways on the cedar bench; she did not appear to be napping.

  I shook her, trying to wake her just in case she’d dozed off, but since she was still dressed in her work uniform, this was unlikely. June felt Sasha’s pulse and gently lifted her head, looking for signs of foul play. After determining that she was breathing and was not bleeding, we lifted her from either side and shuffled her out of the hot room. Since there was no place to sit in the hall, we helped her back to the lounge and lowered her onto the sofa. I brought her a cup of water and held it to her lips.

  Her eyelids fluttered and her gaze ricocheted about the room as she tried to get her bearings.

  “Find her please. Please help her. They have her on the island.”

  “Help who, Sasha? Who has her? Where?”

  “What were you doing in the sauna?” June asked. “Did someone hit you? Did you see him? Are you in some sort of trouble? We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

  It was difficult to understand the poor girl. She was still disoriented and looked terrified. Her hand was at her throat, thumb and forefinger rubbing an antique locket that hung from a thin gold chain around her neck. I offered her another sip of water and waited for her to calm down so I could get to the bottom of this. I really wanted to ask her if she knew anything about why my schedule and my room had been changed at the last minute, but she was in no condition to be grilled. Her thumbnail triggered the tiny latch on the locket and it popped open, revealing two photographs. I thought at first they were both pictures of Sasha, but when she held it out toward me in her trembling hand, I bent closer to get a better look. The likeness on the left was indeed her, but the picture on the right was of a younger girl who looked like Sasha but with darker hair and piercing green eyes.

  “Is this your sister? Is this who you’re trying to find?”

  Just when it looked like she might be ready to carry on a productive conversation, she sat bolt upright, her eyes fixed on the entrance. Angelina made her way into the lounge and sat down right beside Sasha. “Are you okay dear? I saw you sitting here as I was passing.” She reached for Sasha’s hand which was now resting limply in her lap. “You’ve been working too many hours on too little sleep. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll make sure you get back to the dorm safely. I’m going to have a word with your supervisor about cutting back your hours.” Sasha did not object. She rose and stood as if her legs were made of wood.

  Angelina directed her next words to June and me. “I find myself apologizing once again for my staff causing you any inconvenience or disruption to your plans. Sasha is a good girl, but she sometimes stretches herself too thin in her enthusiasm to earn money over the summer. I’ll see that she gets back home safely and takes it easy the rest of the evening.”

  I wasn’t willing to let it go so easily. “Wait a minute, Angelina. I was just about to ask Sasha a few questions.”

  “I’m sure it can wait for another time. As you can see, she’s not feeling well.”

  “Speaking of feeling well, how are you feeling? You had quite the scare yourself in the beach office. I’m surprised to see you back at work so soon.”

  Angelina’s left eye was twitching. “Thank you for asking. It was a freak accident for sure. I should be asking about your well-being, though. You were there too, and I must thank you for helping me out of the building. I’ve been telling Damien for months that we need to find a safer place to store the fireworks for the weekend displays, somewhere far away from populated areas. At least the huge stash for the Independence Day show is safely stored where there can be no accidental detonation. We’ll be getting out of your hair now so you can relax. Enjoy your visit here at the spa. I’ll see you both soon.” Angelina guided Sasha away, one hand on her shoulder, the other at the small of her back.

  Left alone once more, I wondered out loud. “Did it seem to you like Angelina was holding something back? She started to say something but then seemed to change her mind about it.”

  “I thought so too,” June said. “She also seemed to be in a big rush to get Sasha away from us, like she was afraid she was going to tell us something we weren’t supposed to know.”

  As I settled on the sofa, still deep in thought, something poked my leg.

  “Ouch! What the . . .?” I reached beneath my thigh and retrieved the annoying culprit: Sasha’s locket. “Hmm. I wonder if Sasha left this on purpose. If this is her sister, and she’s in trouble, maybe we can figure out where she is. She said someone was holding her on an island.”

  June took the locket from my outstretched hand and studied the two photographs. “They look enough alike to be twins, don’t you think? As far as being held against her will, that seems a bit dramatic. Then again, there are all those rumors about Scorpion Island. After the research I’ve been doing, and hearing what Detective Reed told you, I get the feeling there really is something sinister about the place; otherwise, the rumors would have died away. Here, take a look at this r
eport I found in some news archives from last year.” She found what she was looking for and handed me her cell phone. I scanned the article and handed back her phone.

  “You’re right, June. Some of this stuff seems to have pretty solid basis in facts. You’ve been busy, haven’t you? And here I thought you were sending sappy love texts to Jack this whole time.” Her cheeks darkened a shade or two, and she glanced down at the phone. I figured I wasn’t completely wrong in my assessment after all.

  28

  What, man, defy the devil. Consider, he’s an enemy to mankind.

  Twelfth Night

  Even though life kept throwing flaming curveballs at us, we still had to eat. We chose an outdoor cafe at the edge of the marina for a casual supper, where we ordered a light meal and iced tea. Shocking, I know, but after this afternoon, I felt it was best to keep a clear head this evening. We rehashed the recent events yet again, trying to figure out how to untangle ourselves from the web of mystery we were snared in. I was determined to finish off this weekend, not only alive, but assured that whoever was terrorizing Devil’s Island was brought to justice.

  I was about to make a dent in my avocado-and-tuna salad when I spotted Angelina coming out of the marina office. She was carrying a leather satchel and walking like she had someplace to be. She didn’t see us, and I decided now was not a good time to engage her in conversation, even though there were still a number of questions I would have liked her to answer. She headed for the finger dock directly in front of the office where many of the bigger, luxurious sailboats were berthed. In spite of the fact that I was a powerboat person through-and-through, I couldn’t help but admire the graceful lines of the sailing vessels. Angelina stopped halfway down the dock, in front of a majestic, triple-sailed boat with a jet-black hull. Across the transom, in red letters edged in gold leaf, was the name Devil Chaser. The l was formed from a stylized scorpion that glittered in the sun. She tossed the satchel over the gunnel and onto the deck, spun around, and strode back in the direction from which she’d come.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to just hop on your luxury yacht and sail off to some exotic port whenever the whim struck?”

  June cocked her head and gave me a quizzical look. “Umm. Hello. You and Hamm don’t have it so bad, you know.”

  “You’re absolutely right. Sometimes, other people’s lives just seem so much more glamorous than my own.”

  “I’d say they have the glamour thing down pat. Isn’t that Damien pulling into the parking lot in that way-less-than-ordinary Bentley?”

  “I can’t tell for sure through the tinted windows, but I’m guessing by the license plate it must be him.” I couldn’t think of anyone else who would drive such a fancy car with MAGIC1 spelled out on its plates.

  June looked at me. I guessed it must have been the sun’s reflection off the water that made her eyes glow like embers. Either that or I was still feeling the effects of my afternoon wine. “It’s now or never, Francie. I say we stow away on that sailboat and see if it’s headed where I think it is. I don’t think they’re planning a long trip with the convention going on, and I only saw that one little duffel bag. Both of them seem like the type that requires a much higher level of maintenance than you could fit in that bag. I think your purse holds more stuff than what’s in there. Now, are you ready to get some answers?”

  “Um, if I say no, are you going anyway?”

  “Well, of course.”

  “I guess I’m in then. I would rather be in the midst of danger with you than sitting here alone wondering what you got yourself into. Besides, who knows what else I’d get framed for while you were gone.”

  June and I left the remnants of our meal and strolled down the dock toward the beautiful sailboat, just two friends enjoying the summer air and admiring the boats bobbing at their docks. It was a good thing the blinds of the marina office were shut against the sun’s evening glare, because I couldn’t see into the place and assumed whoever was inside couldn’t see out. Nevertheless, I glanced back toward the building more than once, fearing we’d be spotted. Guilty conscience? Without a doubt. I had just agreed to board the vessel belonging to the two most important people at the resort without permission or even a remotely valid reason.

  It took only seconds to hop aboard, step over the leather satchel on the teakwood deck, and slip unnoticed through the unlocked door to the cabin below. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, unless you counted the impeccable decor. We didn’t have much time to admire the cabin and its luxurious trimmings because we were interrupted by animated voices above us. I pulled June into a cedar-lined closet in what I assumed was guest lodging and shut the louvered door. Damien and Angelina were speaking quickly, but from the sounds of their voices, neither of them seemed angry or upset. I held my breath and June’s hand while the boat pulled away from its berth, headed on its course to destination unknown.

  29

  Have more than you show, speak less than you know.

  King Lear

  Before my legs even had a chance to cramp, I could feel a change in the boat’s speed and direction. We slowed and made a sharp turn. I couldn’t tell the heading because the claustrophobic closet space was playing tricks on my sense of direction. I was glad I had checked the time on my cell phone just as we were leaving our dinner table, because now, based on the brass ship’s clock on the mahogany desk I could see through the door slats, I knew it had been a twenty-minute boat ride to where we now found ourselves. I’m not that great in math, but figuring the speed of the sailboat to be about ten knots, I calculated that we must be on one of the smaller islands near South Bass—perhaps Middle Bass or Little Sister. The only other possibility would be Scorpion Island, the place shrouded in rumors and the focus of June’s recent intel-gathering expedition. I was getting a sinking feeling about this already.

  Movement on the deck above us brought me back to the situation at hand. The boat listed to the right, and I felt a bounce and then a second one. Angelina and Damien had stepped off the boat, and the sound of their footsteps receded. They had gone ashore.

  “Now what, Super Spy?” I was getting cranky, either because I was mad at myself for agreeing to June’s harebrained scheme or because I didn’t have enough time to finish my dinner. I never even got the chance to look at the dessert menu. It was a toss-up.

  June headed straight for the nearest porthole and stuck her nose on the glass. “Let’s figure out where we are so we can decide what we should do.”

  At least I agreed with her on that point. I strode over to the little oval window opposite her and squinted at the bright reflection of the sun on the lake. “Nothing here,” I said, moseying over to her spot to get a better look at the view from her window. “Wait, does that guy have a gun?”

  There was a uniformed man off in the distance, and as he turned to retrace the straight line he’d just walked, I noticed a rifle slung across his back. We both saw Angelina and Damien at the same time. They walked right past the guard, or whatever he was, nodding in recognition, but not slowing down. He nodded in return and pointed in the direction they were walking. I followed his finger’s lead to an imposing white structure at the top of a hill. It looked like a majestic southern plantation house.

  “Hey, June, let me see your cell phone. That building looks like one of the hotels from the Wikipedia article about Scorpion Island you showed me.”

  June pulled out her phone, but when she tried to access the file, nothing came up. “There’s no reception here, Francie. Nada. Not even a single bar.” She stopped short. “What the heck? Francie, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

  I forgot about the cell phone and looked out the window once again. “Now what?” Eddie Sneed was driving up the hill in a black golf cart decorated with gold-leaf script—the very same script as on the transom of the DeVille’s boat. He pulled over next to the guard and handed him something. It looked like a lunch tray. “What in the name of weasel hats is he doing here?”

  “It can’t be g
ood, whatever it is. Either he’s gotten himself into some deep doo-doo, or he is one of the bad guys. I’m going to call his cell phone and confront him. I can’t believe I actually added him to my contacts at the first meeting we went to. Let’s hear him explain his way out of this.”

  “Or not.” I said, reminding her of the absence of signal. “What good is modern technology if you can’t rely on it during an emergency?”

  “You can still access my contacts list, can’t you?” June didn’t seem to be as depressed as I was over our total isolation and vulnerability.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Just find his number. Actually, just pull up the contacts list. We’ll be fine.”

  I didn’t question her cryptic order; I just did as she asked. “Okay. So, here it is. Now what?” June pulled a gadget that looked to me like a key drive or Bluetooth device from her bag. “What’s that?”

  June explained to me that it was a goTenna prototype given to her by a techie upstart company to test out and review in Tech Times magazine. It was supposed to enable you to send messages and locations without Wi-Fi or cell towers, in case of a downed power grid. I was impressed. “How convenient.”

  June laughed as she connected the device to the mic outlet on her phone. “It’s time to test this thing out in a real-life situation. Come to think of it, I’m surprised you didn’t have one of these in your purse. You usually have every save-the-day item rolling around in that bottomless bag of yours.”

  She was right; I usually did, but not this time. I was glad she pulled the rabbit out of the hat, and watched with interest as she used the magic bunny to send out an SOS signal to anyone who might be in the area with an active GPS location. You couldn’t call a specific number, but it was communication. Hopefully it wouldn’t backfire and end up giving away our presence to the bad guys.