Death in a Beach Chair

by Valerie Wolzien

  “I’ve asked what seems like a hundred questions, and visited parts of the resort I didn’t even know existed, but I can’t tell you that I’ve learned anything that will help Jerry.” She frowned and picked up his drink again, raising one eyebrow at him.

  “Go ahead and finish it,” Jed offered.

  “I wonder what Kathleen thought she would learn about Allison in Hancock,” Susan mused.

  “She wasn’t investigating Allison,” Jed said, waving to a passing waiter. “She was interested in June’s death. We’ll have a pitcher of rum punch and two glasses,” he ordered.

  “And a large glass of water, a notebook and a pencil, and… and whatever you have available to eat,” Susan added. “I’m starving.

  “You know, that might be important,” she continued. “Kathleen must think there’s something suspicious about June’s death. Does she think it was murder?”

  “I don’t know. But I don’t remember there being any suggestion of that at the time.”

  “No, I don’t, either. And I’m sure we’d remember,” Susan added.

  Jed leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “Sue, if that auto accident wasn’t an accident, doesn’t that suggest that Jerry is a murderer?”

  Susan considered that. “I wonder if that’s what Kathleen is thinking.”

  “I have no idea. I sure wish I’d had an opportunity to talk to her.”

  “Can’t we call?”

  “No. She said she was heading into the city to check on some things and she would call as soon as she had something to tell us.”

  “But-”

  “Frances Adams said the less communication the better, Sue. She is concerned that the police department might decide that the embassy office is interfering with the investigation and take it out on Jerry.”

  “Is that all Kathleen said?”

  “She had seen Jerry’s parents. At least, she mentioned talking to his mother. They’re worried, but the kids are fine. Kathleen wanted Jerry to know that, of course.”

  “Did she explain why she trashed their cottage before leaving?”

  “Not a word about that. Oh, here are our drinks.”

  “Cook just pulled these from the oven. Be careful, they hot,” their waitress said, putting a big tray of fried plantain and soft-shell crabs and two dipping sauces on the table between them. The young woman stooped closer to Susan’s head and continued. “We thank you for good words about James,” she whispered so quickly and quietly that Susan was sure she alone heard.

  “What was all that about?” Jed asked.

  “Probably another of James’s relatives… or girlfriends. They were worried that he might get in trouble after my kayak sank today.”

  “Your kayak sank?”

  “Yes. There was a hole in it.”

  “How in God’s name did that happen?”

  “Shhh! Jed, not so loud! I don’t know how it happened. It just did. James towed me in.”

  “James put a hole in your kayak?”

  “No! He saved me. Well, not exactly saved me,” she explained. “I had on a life vest and we weren’t that far out. I could probably have gotten back by myself.”

  “We? Good heavens! You were with the bridge players, right?”

  “Three of them. How did you know?”

  “They stopped by when I sat down and asked how you were doing. I told them I hadn’t seen you all day long, and they said something about you having a story to tell me over dinner. I was hoping they meant that you had figured out who killed Allison.”

  “And instead I’d had a kayaking accident. Sorry.”

  “Are you sure it was an accident? It’s strange that the hole was in your kayak and not someone else’s.”

  “I know. I thought about that. Look, where’s the pencil and paper that the waitress brought?” she asked, looking around.

  “Right here under the napkins.” Jed pushed a pad with COMPASS BAY printed across the top of each sheet of paper and a pencil across the table to his wife.

  “I’m going to list the possible suspects-the people who might have killed Allison, and drugged you, and assaulted Kathleen, and maybe even damaged my kayak. Then we can write down motives and… and…”

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Jed asked gently. “Motive. The only person who is connected to Allison, Kathleen, you, and to me is Jerry and he’s been locked up since the day after Allison died.”

  “Peggy and Frank are from Connecticut.”

  “Did they know Allison?”

  “Not before coming here. At least, that’s what they claim.” Susan looked up from the untouched pad of paper and looked around. “You know what’s weird?”

  “Everything?”

  “Yes, but look around. How did one person get away with all these things? Murder. Assaulting Kathleen. Ripping up her cottage.”

  “She might have done that herself, Sue.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. But someone put a hole in my kayak. How does one person do all that in this small place without being seen?”

  “Now that’s a good question,” Jed agreed, staring out at the row of cottages lining the beach.

  “And the other odd thing is how chummy Allison was with everyone before we arrived.”

  “Well, a single woman alone. Maybe she was just lonely.”

  “Maybe, but there’s something odd about that. I know I’m missing something. It’s as though Allison thought that everyone’s opinion of her mattered a great deal.” The honeymooners walked by, smiled at Jed and Susan, and continued on.

  “Good-looking couple, and funny how they look so similar from behind,” Jed said.

  “Jed, they’re not important. Concentrate! We were talking about how Allison wanted everyone to like her.”

  “You know, that’s sort of sad. I mean, it might have mattered if she had lived, but…”

  Susan started so violently that she knocked her drink over into the appetizers.

  “Susan, are you okay? What are you looking at? Was it something I said?”

  “It’s something you said, and something I said, and something I saw… and I think I know who killed Allison.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Jed said, sounding relieved.

  “No,” she answered. “It’s not! It’s really, really awful.”

  “Susan…”

  “And the problem is that we need evidence. No one is going to believe us without evidence. Unless we have evidence, Jerry won’t be released.” She stood up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Downtown. To a bar. To get a drink.”

  Jed looked down at the mess on the table. “We could just order something else here.”

  “No. I do know one thing: I’m never going to find out what I need to know by asking questions here at Compass Bay.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  “How did you ever figure it out?”

  Even in the leisurely Caribbean, everything could change in twenty-four hours. Yesterday Susan had been asking all the questions. Today she had all the answers.

  Well, almost all the answers. Kathleen’s plane was landing in less than an hour, and Susan was hoping she would be able to fill in a gap or two in the story. Until then, Susan and Jed were spending the day lying in the sun on either side of Jerry Gordon, replenishing his glass of rum punch as needed and explaining to curious guests what had happened.

  “I know I was lucky to be held under the embassy offices, and the view was spectacular, but I sure did miss the sun-and the alcohol-while I was there,” Jerry said, stretching out and putting his hands behind his head.

  “So tell us, how did you ever figure it all out?” Ro Parker repeated her question. “Did you look for clues? What did you find? How could you possibly have guessed what really happened?”

  “Better tell her. She’s been driving me nuts since word that you had discovered the murderer’s identity spread around Compass Bay last night,” Burt urged.

  “Oh, you!” his wife responded. “Yo
u’re just cranky because you can’t seem to attract the waiter’s attention this morning.”

  “It’s true that the standard of service has fallen off dramatically in the last twelve hours,” Veronica chimed in.

  “Guess you can tell who really ran this place,” Randy spoke up. “And I have to admit I’ll really miss James. Seems to me he personified the high standard of service that kept us coming back to Compass Bay year after year.”

  “Has anyone heard if they’ve found him yet?” Rose Anderson appeared on the edge of the group and asked timidly.

  “First, before you start to complain about the service, before we worry about the murderer’s whereabouts, please tell us how you figured out who killed Allison McAllister,” Ro asked again.

  “It was a combination of things,” Susan began. “You see, I couldn’t connect Allison to anyone else at Compass Bay. Anyone except you and Jed and me,” she continued, turning to Jerry.

  “I kept thinking about that myself,” he admitted.

  “Well,” Susan continued, “since I couldn’t connect Allison to anyone except us, I couldn’t figure out who might want to kill her. I also couldn’t figure out who to ask about her. All the information I had about Allison was from the guests she spoke to before we arrived. And, like all of us, she just talked about the parts of her life that she wanted to talk about. Then it occurred to me that I was actually getting a fair amount of information. Allison had talked to you all more than… well, more than anyone ordinarily would. She came here alone and I assumed that she was lonely. But then it struck me that she was saying very specific things about herself and her life, all of which connected her to the Gordons. She was obsessed with them. She even wrote a semiautobiographical novel that made her sound like a victim of her sister. According to Rose, she got a big advance for it. I guess sibling rivalry is a hot topic these days.”

  “June was always kind and generous to Allison-despite the tension that existed in their relationship,” Jerry spoke up.

  “Allison also made sure everyone knew about my own experience investigating murders,” Susan continued. “And that struck me as odd. I have two great kids. My husband has a great job. I live in a wonderful town. There’s a lot you could tell people about me. Why did everyone here know about my sleuthing? Frankly, I was beginning to be embarrassed about it, and then it occurred to me that Allison must have told everyone for a reason.”

  “What was that?” Rose spoke up.

  “She wanted me to investigate-or rather-be involved in a murder investigation at Compass Bay.” Susan looked around and suddenly felt like a teacher trying to explain the theory of relativity to a group of second-graders: Everyone’s face was blank. “Allison came here planning the murder of Kathleen Gordon,” she explained.

  “What?”

  “Why?”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know it because she, in fact, did some other fiction writing. She wrote a diary that purported to record the last month and a half of her life. A month and a half during which she continued her passionate love affair with Jerry and during which Jerry promised to get rid of his wife and marry Allison. At least that’s what it said.”

  “You know, whatever happened, you can patch up your marriage,” Peggy said, leaning forward and patting Jerry’s arm.

  “It was complete fiction,” Jerry answered. “I love Kathleen. I couldn’t stand Allison. Period.”

  “Men sometimes-” Peggy added.

  “Peggy, shut up!” Frank roared. “Not all men have affairs. Not all men are married to you!”

  There was a moment of silence while they all took this in. Then Susan continued her explanation.

  “The diary was supposed to be discovered after Kathleen was murdered. I suppose Allison herself might have suggested that the cottages be searched. But Kathleen and I found it when we were searching Allison’s cottage. Kathleen read it and then claimed it had been stolen from her cottage. Kathleen doesn’t lie very well. I knew she had gotten rid of it somehow-probably just dumped it in the ocean.”

  “You never asked her about it?” Joann spoke up.

  “Sure I did, on the phone just a few hours ago. But I already knew Kathleen and Jerry were innocent. I just didn’t realize immediately that Allison must have been trying to prove the exact opposite. You see, nothing made sense because the wrong person died.”

  “Why? Why did the wrong person die?” Randy asked.

  “Because one tall, long-haired blond looks pretty much like the next in the dark. Allison had made herself over, and she had made herself into a copy of Kathleen. She was out on the gazebo in the dark; James came up behind her, strung a fishing line around her neck, and pulled it tight. He’s strong. She would have been dead within minutes. And, probably, James realized that he had killed the wrong person.”

  “She came to the island to find someone to kill Kathleen,” Ro said.

  “Yes.”

  “Why would James, or anyone, do that?”

  “Money. James liked working here, but he was living on the expectation of good tips. And tips are not a dependable source of income. In fact, there was no guarantee that he would even continue working here from day to day. When my kayak sank-and I think that was probably an innocent accident-there was a serious concern among the staff that he’d be sacked. Lila was furious with him. She couldn’t blame Allison’s murder on the staff, or Kath’s concussion… or the knockout drops put in Jed’s lunch-”

  “Why was that anyway?” her husband asked.

  “You were sitting in the restaurant, waiting for me to show up. James probably thought you might see him with Kathleen. He couldn’t risk that.”

  “But why hit Kathleen?” Burt asked.

  “I think he probably wanted to scare her away. But what no one knew is that Kathleen was a cop. She doesn’t scare easily.”

  “That’s true,” Jerry said proudly.

  “Anyway, Lila doesn’t expect accidents to happen here-ever. Those kayaks should have been checked for damage before they were put out on the beach. And that’s James’s job. This is a good place to work. Everyone kept repeating that. Everyone on the island who isn’t driving a taxi wants to work here. There’s probably no one on the staff who isn’t aware of being replaceable. One slip up and you’re out.”

  “Sounds like Lila,” Burt Parker said approvingly. “She runs a tight ship.”

  “And she’s hired many of James’s friends, relatives, and girlfriends. A lot of people depend on his continued employment. When he saw the opportunity to make some money to free him from this situation, he took it.

  “Of course, the fact that Allison picked James to help her out was part of the problem I had investigating. Everyone here, with the exception of Lila, was protecting him. He could come and go without ever worrying that anyone would say anything to incriminate him. No matter what he did here he’d get away with it. Taking girlfriends on the beach at night was against the rules, but James knew no one would report him. There was probably no one else in the resort who could-quite literally-get away with murder.

  “In fact, I had to leave Compass Bay to discover that he and Allison had been meeting.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “There’s a restaurant in town-the Coconut Hut-”

  “More a dive than a restaurant,” Veronica said.

  “Yes, I suppose.”

  “But their lemonade is sensational,” Veronica went on, looking around as though hoping one would appear before her right now.

  “And their bartender is a very observant young man, thank heavens,” Susan said, trying to return the conversation to the topic at hand. “He was working the day Allison was killed, and he saw her meeting with Jerry.”

  “That meeting was completely accidental!” Jerry protested.

  “And wouldn’t have happened if James had shown up,” Susan added. “The bartender said Allison waited impatiently for someone to appear. She was probably amazed when Jerry walked in instead of James.”r />
  “I was trying to get away from Allison, and I couldn’t believe it when I walked in that door and there she was. I really thought I was going to go mad,” Jerry said. “I even considered making up some sort of excuse and taking Kathleen back to Hancock. Instead, I got back to Compass Bay as soon as I could and told Kath I wanted to eat dinner in town. I just wanted to get away from Allison and to keep Kathleen away from her. I thought things would be better when you and Jed arrived,” he added, looking at Susan.

  “Did you ever think that Kathleen might be in any danger?” Jed asked, sitting up.

  “I never thought that Allison might be planning to kill her, but, yes, I did get the feeling that she was trying to damage our marriage. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when I saw her walking down the dock toward us the first afternoon we were here. She was wearing a tiny bikini; her hair was shimmering blond and hanging down her back; she looked like Kathleen. Not beautiful like Kath, of course, but like an… an imitation of her.”

  “Which is why you couldn’t take your eyes off her, right?” Susan asked.

  “Why I-but you weren’t even on the island yet. How did you know that?” Jerry smiled. “Kathleen must have told you that.”

  “She did. She thought you were… well, infatuated with Allison.”

  “God, no! I couldn’t stand the woman. And I was shocked. I didn’t trust Allison. The fact that she had turned herself into a replica of Kath made me very uncomfortable. I thought she was up to something, but I never even considered something like planning a murder.”

  “You and she had been meeting in the city, right?” Susan asked.

  “We met once in early January. She called me up at work and asked if I’d take her to lunch. I couldn’t think of any reason to refuse, so we met at the Four Seasons.”

  “Didn’t she look the same there as she did this week?” Peggy asked.

  Jerry paused a moment to consider her question. “No, I don’t think so. Her hair wasn’t as blond and it was tied back somehow. She was wearing glasses, I think. And it was snowing outside. She had on some sort of black wool suit. She looked like every other woman in the city. We talked about general things. Nothing significant.”