A Killing On The Water

by Blythe Baker

  We sat, and I tried not to be obvious about searching for Ed Turner. I must not have hidden it well enough because Shep elbowed me, shaking his head. I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on the service.

  As soon as it was over, I popped up out of my seat and looked around. People were hurrying out to get changed before meeting up to search for Jacob, but I spotted Ed only a few rows behind me. I glanced at Shep.

  “You go on and stop him,” he sighed. “I’m right behind you.”

  I took advantage of being small, slipping between people and weaving my way through the crowd quickly, maintaining my smile so no one would get mad at me. As I darted out the church doors, I saw Ed at the bottom of the steps.

  “Ed!” I called, waving.

  “Well, hi there, Piper.” Ed grinned good-naturedly.

  In his late forties, Ed’s bright red hair—or what was left of it—had started going white at the temples. His face was pale with permanent laugh lines, and though he was probably only about six feet tall, his wiry frame seemed even bigger when I stood next to him.

  “Did you enjoy today’s sermon?” he asked.

  “Oh, definitely,” I said, though I had been too distracted to pay much attention to the sermon. “Listen, do you have a minute? I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Yeah, sure. Are you working with Shep again?” Ed asked as the officer walked up.

  “She’s involved in the investigation,” Shep confirmed, not specifying in what way I was involved. We all walked over to a nearby picnic table and sat down. I noticed Liam and Claire carrying their handheld cameras and recording the crowd.

  I forced myself to refocus on talking to Ed. “I believe that the woman who died yesterday came in to the post office and talked to you. Is that true?” I asked.

  Chapter 11

  Ed’s face fell. “Yes, I waited on that lady yesterday.” His eyes were suddenly wary. “Why? What did you hear?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “I found an errand list in Ms. Greenaway’s things, and a stop at the post office was on it. Do you remember why she was there?”

  “Definitely,” Ed scoffed, his cheeks turning red. “She wanted to mail some postcards. But she was very rude—I told her that the morning ferry had already taken the mail over, so her postcards wouldn’t be sent until Monday. She went crazy, calling me names and saying I was bad at my job. She even made me call the administrators on the mainland and tried to have me fired. I don’t know what she was expecting. I can’t change the system just because she wants to send some postcards.”

  “So, what happened?” I asked.

  “I got upset,” Ed admitted. His cheeks were red again, and he was breathing heavily. “I told her to mind how she treats people or someday she’d be sorry. Well, I guess that day was yesterday. She made the wrong person mad and they killed her.”

  It took a minute for Ed to realize what he had said, but his eyes went wide when he did. “I mean—” he sputtered, “it wasn’t me that did it, you know. I didn’t kill her!”

  Shep stood up. “All right, Ed, I think that’s enough for now. We need to get back to searching for the boy, but I’ll want to do a formal interview in the next couple of days. Don’t you go leaving town, okay?”

  “Of course, Shep. I want to help you catch the right guy, definitely.” Ed’s hands were shaking and his face was blotchy.

  “Right, then. I’ll see you in about an hour?” Shep was looking at me. I must have seemed confused because he added, “For the search?”

  “Oh, right,” I said, smiling brilliantly. Shep shook his head and walked toward his car.

  “Ed,” I said softly so Shep wouldn’t hear.

  “You believe me, right, Piper?” Ed’s voice was pleading and his eyes were worried.

  “I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly, Ed,” I said, although I didn’t really know anything of the kind. True, it was hard to imagine a friendly guy like Ed committing murder. But then, it was hard to imagine anybody on Sunrise Island could be guilty of something so awful. Experience had taught me people were capable of a lot when they felt angry or cornered.

  Ed must have believed my assurance, because he looked relieved.

  I continued carefully, wanting to keep him in a cooperative mood. “I was wondering about something, though. You said Ms. Greenaway’s postcards wouldn’t be sent out until Monday, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right. There’s no one to pick them up from the ferry until then,” he said.

  “So they’re still sitting there, in our post office?”

  “Piper, I see where you’re going with this, and the answer’s no. It would be a federal crime to give them to you.” Ed shook his head in disbelief.

  “I don’t want to take them,” I said. “Just…peek at them. Maybe there’s something in them that would give a hint as to who killed Ms. Greenaway. I’d really be reading them to protect you. The sooner we find out who did it, the sooner you stop being a suspect.”

  “You think I’m really a suspect?” Ed asked. “I can’t go to jail. I swear I didn’t do this. You’ve got to believe me, Piper.”

  I wanted to. In that moment, I truly did. But a pesky voice at the back of my mind whispered that I had been wrong before. I had trusted people who had turned out to be unworthy of that trust. Even as the thought ran through my head, I kept my expression smooth, hiding my doubts from Ed.

  “I do trust you, Ed,” I lied, “but I’m not sure that Shep does.” I let him consider that for a minute. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Postal workers have to sort through the mail, right?”

  “Well, actually, there’s a machine—”

  I interrupted him, pretending not to hear. “And in the process of sorting the mail, maybe some of it gets left on the counter, with the address facing up. That way, the postal worker can tell if it’s in the right pile.”

  “Ok…” Ed hadn’t quite made the leap I was hoping for.

  “And then, maybe that postman gets distracted for a few minutes with a phone call or making coffee or something? And if a passing visitor happens to glance down at the mail, that’s not the postman’s fault, right?”

  “But Piper, the post office isn’t even open today. Why would I be—”

  “Didn’t you say you left something important at work yesterday? Something you need to go and get right away?” I held my breath, hoping Ed would pick up on one of my hints.

  It took a minute but Ed finally caught on. “Why, yes, I did. And I don’t want to interrupt our conversation, Piper, so I’d love it if you accompanied me while I look for my lost…wallet.”

  “That would be delightful, Ed,” I agreed, taking his arm and letting him lead me to his car.

  Five minutes later, he was pretending to search for his wallet while I read through Ms. Greenaway’s postcards. I recognized the aggressively pointy handwriting right away. There were three cards and they seemed to be to her son, niece, and brother. They certainly didn’t change my impression of her as a bitter, mean woman. From her writing, it was clear that she hated Sunrise Island.

  One sentence did catch my attention, though. In the middle of the postcard to her son, Ms. Greenaway had written, “The secret I’ve learned will make me rich” before continuing on with a complaint about how the B&B smelled like vanilla in the afternoons. As if that were something to complain about!

  I sat on a bench to think while Ed cleaned up. What secret did Ms. Greenaway know and how would it make her rich? Was it the reason she was killed?

  We were both deep in thought as we left the post office. I waved at Claire and another member of the film crew as they walked past on the street, and then I climbed into Ed’s car with a sigh. Ed drove me back to the church in silence, but he got out and walked with me to my car.

  “You do believe me, don’t you, Piper?” he started again. “You can ask anyone who was there the other day—she made me mad, but I wouldn’t kill her.”

  I gave what I hoped was a convincing smile. It was never a good idea to l
et someone know they were on your suspect list.

  “Ed, I had enough interactions with Ms. Greenaway to see how she could drive anyone to murder,” I said. “Now, I believe that Jacob going missing is connected somehow to Ms. Greenaway’s death. While I could see you being driven to murder by someone like her, I know you’d never hurt a child. So, no, I don’t believe you’re the killer.”

  In my heart, I hoped every word was true. I liked Ed and wanted him to be innocent, but I couldn’t overlook the fact he had motive.

  Ed smiled, the signs of tension draining from his body. “Can you tell all of that to Shep? I mean, I know you’re not a cop, but Shep respects your opinion. It would mean a lot to me if you put in a good word.”

  “I can do that,” I agreed. “Thanks for your help today.”

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Ed winked as he returned to his car. He drove off with a wave.

  I climbed into my car and sat, thinking for a minute. If I were to make a list of all the people who might be motivated to kill Ms. Greenaway, I’d probably have to add everyone on the island to the list. Probably most everyone who knew her off the island, too. I didn’t want to believe that Ed had done it, but he still had a pretty good motive, so I wasn’t ready to write him off. The college girls back at the B&B had run-ins with the dead woman too, but I didn’t think any of their disagreements were severe enough to lead to murder. Even Mrs. Harris had argued with Ms. Greenaway, but I couldn’t consider her seriously as the killer. No, Ed was my only solid suspect, like it or not.

  I had to figure out what secret Ms. Greenaway had learned. That might be the key to unlocking the whole thing. I jumped in shock when someone knocked on my window. Liam stood, grinning in at me. I started the car so I could roll down the window.

  Liam rested his arm on the top of my car and leaned down to talk. “Was that your boyfriend?” he asked. “He seems a little old for you and…not really in your league.”

  I laughed. “Ed? No. He’s the postman. Mason, my boyfriend, is in Houston working on a mural for an art show.”

  “Oh, an artist?” he said. “Fancy. Where’d you go with the mail man, then?”

  “To the post office,” I said as if it were obvious.

  “It’s Sunday,” he pointed out.

  “He forgot his wallet there yesterday and wanted to go look for it. We were having a nice conversation, so I went with him.” I was starting to get a little annoyed.

  “Oh, yeah? What were you talking about?”

  “That’s not really your business,” I told him. Maybe it was paranoia but something in his questions stirred my suspicious instincts. I reminded myself that he had no reason to wish ill on Ms. Greenaway or on me.

  He laughed in a friendly way and my suspicions dissolved. “I know it’s none of my business,” he admitted. “I was hoping you’d tell me anyway.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing in the church parking lot at this time of day?” I asked.

  “Filming. Well, that and keeping an ear out. I might see or hear something that helps us find Jacob.” He must know that his grin made it difficult to stay mad at him. Nobody could have reason to smile as much as Liam did.

  “Church ended half an hour ago,” I pointed out.

  “I was waiting for you.”

  I didn’t have a ready response for that, so I just looked at him.

  “Are you going to help look for Jacob again today?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’m going to run home and change first,” I said. “I need to make sure Page doesn’t need me to do anything.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you out there, then,” he said, tapping the top of my car before sauntering off.

  “Bye,” I called after him, and he waved in response.

  I rolled up the window and headed back to the B&B to see if Page had any ideas.

  I found Page sitting on the sofa with Mrs. Harris. Both women had dozed off, and I dug out my phone and took a photo of the funny sight before tapping my sister on the leg.

  “W-wha?” she mumbled, scrunching up her face.

  “I need to talk to you,” I whispered, and she squinted at me as if trying to place me.

  “Right,” she mumbled, standing up. We went into the kitchen, and she started making us each a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  “Did you talk to Elizabeth?” I asked.

  “I tried, but Ray was in there the whole time. I don’t think she would tell me anything anyway,” Page replied. “How did your investigating go?”

  “I went to the general store before church, and Katie said that Ms. Greenaway came in yesterday with Jacob and that she was in a bad mood.”

  “That’s not exactly shocking,” Page said with a smirk.

  “Right. But she said that Ms. Greenaway was upset about something that happened at the post office. I found Ed after church, and Shep and I talked to him.” I poured us each a glass of milk while I talked.

  “Couldn’t avoid Shep?” Page plopped down to eat.

  “No, he made me sit with him.”

  Page smirked again.

  I continued, “Ed said that Ms. Greenaway got mad because he couldn’t send her postcards over until Monday. She even tried to get him fired, and he threatened her.”

  “You don’t think he did it, do you?” Page asked.

  “Ed? I hope not. But he definitely had motive, so I think we should keep him on the suspect list.”

  “Suspect list? Who else would you put on there?” Page asked through a bite of her sandwich.

  “Ed’s the only solid name we have right now,” I admitted. “But listen. He let me read the postcards Ms. Greenaway was sending—”

  “That’s illegal, you know.”

  “—and not only was she just as unpleasant as we thought she was, she also had a secret. I think she was going to use it to blackmail someone.” I took a large gulp of milk and began working on my sandwich.

  “Blackmail? Who? What kind of secret?” Page popped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth and went over to wash her plate and glass.

  “That’s just it. She didn’t say. There was just one sentence that said something about how a secret she learned would make her rich, and then she went back to complaining about the island. I thought you might have some ideas about how to figure out what she was talking about.”

  Page dried off her hands and leaned against the counter, watching me eat. “Okay, you’re thinking that whatever this secret was, it gave somebody motive to kill her?” she asked after a while.

  “Exactly. Especially if she was blackmailing someone.” I went over to clean my dishes, but Page took them from me.

  “You need to go get that room in order,” she said. “The police took everything, including the pillows and sheets. Just…have a look around while you’re doing it.”

  “That room has already been searched three times!”

  “It’s a place to start,” Page said. “I mean, I guess we could figure out who Ms. Greenaway’s son is, call him up, and ask him about the secret, but I doubt he’d tell us, even if he knew. The room needs to be put together anyway. Maybe you’ll have another idea while you work.”

  “Fine,” I said. “If Shep shows up, could you tell him I’ll meet him in town when I’m done with my work?”

  Page nodded, and I went upstairs to the supply room to get pillows, sheets, and bedspreads. I carried them to the blue room and tossed everything on the bed Ms. Greenaway had been using. I made up Jacob’s bed quickly.

  Transferring everything over to Jacob’s bed next, I grabbed the fitted sheet and began putting it on the dead woman’s bed. Because I was feeling too lazy to bend over, I lifted the corner of the mattress to pull the elastic into place, and I gasped when I saw the book that had been hidden under the mattress. I grabbed it as I dropped the mattress. Flipping it open, I saw Ms. Greenaway’s handwriting. She must have kept a journal!

  Chapter 12

  I needed to get going so that Shep wouldn’t become su
spicious, but I really wanted to stay and read the journal. I finished making the bed, and then ran down to my room to change. I stuck the journal in my nightstand drawer, grabbed the leash and Jasper, and drove to the café. I called Shep from the parking lot, and then tugged Jasper toward the pier, where Shep was directing the searchers.

  Someone was talking to him about different types of tides and areas of the beach where a body would most likely wash up. Because Ms. Greenaway’s body was washing in toward the island, she probably went into the water somewhere with a specific type of tide pattern…I stopped listening when it started to sound like the man was using random sounds instead of words. I gathered that if Jacob had gone into the water in the same place and at the same time, his body would probably come toward the island as well, and this guy thought he had a good idea of where it might have ended up.

  I had no idea if anything he said was right, but I volunteered to search some of the rockier beaches on the north end of the island. Liam and Claire walked up as I was about to get in my car, and we decided to join forces. Jasper insisted that the front seat was his, so Liam and Claire slid into the back, making me feel like a cab driver.

  We spent a few hours hiking around the rocky shore. Climbing carefully over the boulders, we checked between the headlands and in the tidepools, but there was no sign of Jacob, which I supposed I should be grateful for. Claire filmed as we searched, and Liam asked questions about the investigation until I began to grow suspicious of his interest again.

  Right about that time, the tide started to come in, so we decided to end the search and return to town. As we walked back toward the car, the wind began to pick up and dark clouds started moving quickly toward the island. I realized another big storm was coming and I crossed my fingers that Jacob was somewhere safe and dry. I called Shep with an update and dropped Liam and Claire off at the café before turning toward home.

  The storm arrived as I turned onto our driveway, and Jasper and I dashed from the car into the house in hopes of staying mostly dry. I made hot chocolate and brought some to Page and Blaire in the living room before snuggling up in my bed with Ms. Greenaway’s journal and Jasper. Thunder and lightning seemed an appropriate backdrop for entering the mind of the nanny.