The Curious Case of the Missing Figurehead: A Novel (A Professor and Mrs. Littlefield Mystery)

by Diane Noble

  The phone rang again.

  “Okay, where now?”

  “Well, well, well,” mocked the voice. “Feeling a little feistier, are we?”

  I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

  “Continue on River Drive until it turns into Moore. It will dead-end at West Brunswick Street. That will lead you to the marina. You will be met at the gate. I hope for your sake you are alone.”

  I followed his instructions, except for a brief detour into an alley off West Brunswick, so I could get out and do a quick survey. The wind blew ferociously, lightning splitting open the sky, thunder rumbling and crashing. The sky was dark, the air heavy. By the time I walked to the end of the alley, the rain was coming down in sheets. I looked out over the large marina. The rain made it difficult to see clearly.

  The one thing that heartened me was the fact that if I was right about the identity of the “boss,” he had a supersized ego. What kind of sailing vessel would someone like that have? The largest in the marina, of course. That narrowed the options nicely. Only three yachts loomed among the many other boats, and of the three, one was significantly larger than the others. I was willing to bet that was the one, but I couldn’t be sure.

  I found the last call on my phone and pressed “call back.” He picked up immediately.

  “I’m lost,” I said, doing my best to sound both frightened and annoyed.

  “Where are you?” he asked, impatiently. “Can you see a cross street?”

  “The last I knew I was on Moore, but I don’t see a street sign now. It’s raining so hard it’s difficult to make out the street names.”

  He let out a string of swear words, and I held the phone away from my ear. “Okay,” he said. “Get out of the truck and walk to the nearest sign.”

  “All right,” I said, staying where I’d planted myself earlier. “Oh, here it is,” I said. “It’s Herring and Longleaf. Yes, I believe that’s it.”

  “How’d you get up there?” He swore again, and again, I held the phone away from my ear.

  “Maybe it would be better if you sent someone to get me, and I’ll follow them to the gate.”

  “This better not be a trick,” he said.

  “You’ve made it very clear to me what would happen if I attempted anything like that.”

  “I’ll send someone.”

  I hung up and put the phone in my pocket, pulled out my binoculars, and focused in on the three yachts from where I’d stationed myself. Just as I’d hoped, someone came out of the largest boat, put up an umbrella, and ran down the dock toward the gate. The sheets of rain made it difficult to tell, but even covered in rain gear, the figure was obviously female.

  Female? I wasn’t expecting that. I frowned, keeping my binoculars trained on her as she ran and her face came into better focus. Pretty features, beautiful even. Dark reddish hair swept back into a loose braid of some sort. I’d seen her before and tried to remember where.

  Just before she headed toward the parking lot across from the marina, it came to me. Max’s dinner. After the poisoning. She’d sat next to him, was one of the first to reach him, and then came for me to tell me he needed me.

  I gaped as she lowered her umbrella and threw back her hood just before entering her car. Even in the rain, her dark red hair gleamed. Jane Fletcher.

  I swept the binoculars to the yacht then hurried down the wharf to the gate. In her hurry, she had left the gate open.

  I watched Jane back out of her parking place in the dark SUV and head off in the direction I’d sent her. Of course. She was the insider.

  Another puzzle piece flew into place. I remembered that she had been among the first to be admitted to the hospital after the poisoning, but she must have faked her illness. She probably left just long enough to go after Enrique and my van with a crowbar then returned to the hospital as if she’d been there all along.

  Did she cause the poisoning as well? She had access.

  She knew about the figurehead and its value as an antique, but how did she know about the map it contained?

  I was willing to bet she was the one in charge. I tried to put the other pieces together. I thought of Sandy and his new position in Wilmington at the pharmaceutical company. Was he involved? Was he trying to become a drug lord?

  There was no doubt that they had been together at the farmhouse. One of them shot the third thief.

  Sandy had tricked Katie into thinking he had changed, that he wanted to be a real father to Chloe Grace, all to get close to the banquet plans. And now he held them captive.

  A jagged bolt of lightning flashed over the ocean, followed by a rolling, banging clap of thunder so loud it shook the ground. The blue-black clouds moved closer, sheets of rain falling over the water.

  Shivering, I turned my attention again to the marina. It was time to make my move.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  The Professor

  In his time Max had traveled by camel, by donkey, and by horseback but never in a crate in the back of a rental truck with a woman behind the wheel whose average speed rivaled that of a NASCAR driver. He slid one direction, then the next, wondering why no one had thought to brace the crate with the concrete blocks he’d earlier asked one of the deputies to place in the cargo area. Probably because the men couldn’t have imagined that the crate carried human cargo. He was glad they hadn’t blocked the air holes he’d made for himself.

  He felt queasy for most of the trip, but he had plenty of time to plan what he would do once they arrived. Even so, he was afraid for El. She was smart, no doubt about that, but she was also impulsive. And when it came to protecting those she loved, she was fierce and unrelenting.

  He attempted to push away his fear and think clearly. If she needed him, he wanted to be there for her.

  After the vehicle stopped, he heard the muffled sounds of the cab door open and close. He waited a minute or two longer, then pried open the container, crawled out, and stretched his creaky limbs.

  Grabbing his binocular case and hanging the strap around his neck, he stepped to the window between the cab and the cargo area. El had made her way through the rain toward the wharf. He took his binoculars out and watched as she let herself through a gate. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing as she headed toward a large yacht berthed at the end of the dock.

  Chapter Forty

  Mrs. Littlefield

  The rain was falling in buckets, the lightning and thunder violent and terrifying—or they would have been under different circumstances. Right now, my fears were focused on my family.

  I tightened the sash around my trench coat, drew in a deep breath, and hurried across the street to the marina gate. Unlocked, thanks to Dr. Fletcher—or, if I’d figured correctly, Mrs. Ainsley. I sauntered down the dock as if I belonged there.

  I headed directly for the large yacht. I noticed that many of the larger vessels had small dinghies tethered to their sides.

  The phone with the mechanical voice buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and tossed it into the water. Then I ducked out of sight between two of the larger boats, keeping an eye out for anyone else who might be nearby, especially someone from Sandy’s yacht.

  The squall passed, and the rain turned to sprinkles. The marina gate slammed in the distance, and soon the sound of hurried footsteps carried toward me. I caught a glimpse of Jane before dropping to my knees behind a large pile of ropes. Jane didn’t even glance in my direction but tromped angrily to the yacht and up the gangway.

  Even from my hiding place two yachts down, I could hear her voice. Just a few words here and there, but from her tone, I got a sense of her foul mood. She was suspicious of a “double-cross” and wanted them to “set sail immediately.”

  Staying close to the ships, I slipped down the dock toward the largest yacht. Another voice pierced the air—the distinct wail of a child: Chloe Grace.
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  “I want my mommy,” she cried. “And I want to go home.”

  My heart threatened to stop beating.

  Just then, Jane spotted me. I heard voices and shrank back to hide. I scanned the dock and then ran toward a small yacht. It looked unoccupied, but as I got closer, I could see no way to get in and hide.

  “Where is the figurehead?” demanded a male voice that sounded like Sandy’s. Anger compounded my fear, and I turned to give him a piece of my mind.

  “You can’t hide from us.” Jane yelled. She lifted a gun over the rail and aimed it in my direction. “If you do, you’ll never see your loved ones again. That’s the deal. Tell us where the figurehead is, and we’ll make the exchange, just as promised.”

  “I want to see my family first,” I yelled back. “And right now—or you’ll never see your precious figurehead again. That’s my deal.” My heart beating so hard my ribs hurt, I looked around. There was no place to hide except the deep murky water.

  Chloe Grace cried out again. I took in Jane’s grim expression and the gun aimed at me. They weren’t about to let any of us live. We knew too much.

  I couldn’t wait. I held my nose and jumped into the water.

  The weight of my raincoat pulled me under. I fought against it as I tried to get my arms out of the too-tight sleeves. And my tennies, now waterlogged, made my feet nearly immoveable. I kicked them off and, letting myself float downward, finally managed to free myself from the coat.

  My plan had been to create a diversion and then carry out the rescue. I kicked hard to reach the surface, spotted a dinghy nearby, and swam to it. I struggled but was able to climb aboard, then untied the knot that attached it to the dock. Breathing hard, I tried to get my bearings. Sandy’s yacht was to my right. I prayed I hadn’t been seen, and with the oar I’d found attached to the side, I paddled toward it under the cover of the dock.

  I heard voices on the dock overhead, Sandy’s and one or two others. I held my breath, willing them not to look down. They were arguing. I could hear Sandy’s voice above the others, but I couldn’t make out the words.

  “We’ll have to smoke her out,” one of them said. “Get her to come to us.”

  Smoke me out? Did they mean fire? Of course they did. Sandy knew my secret phobia. He was putting me to the test, hoping I would fail in the process. He would get the figurehead, at least he thought he would, then do away with me. My eyes filled. What was his plan for Katie and Chloe Grace? None of it made sense.

  I’d paddled close to Sandy’s yacht, almost even with the bow. Chloe Grace was sobbing now, crying for her mother. I had to get to her. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  The sound of the anchor chain rattling against the yacht carried toward me. Were they raising the anchor? The engines came to life. They were preparing to leave—with Katie and Chloe Grace.

  Frantically, I looked around for a way to climb up the side of the boat but saw nothing. Then the acrid smell of gasoline stung my nose. I looked up. Some sort of fuel was being poured onto the dock above me. It dripped through the rail and splashed onto the dinghy. I grabbed the oar and paddled hard. I was heading opposite of where I needed to go, just to keep ahead of the flames.

  I turned to look back. An orange glow covered the dock, blocking my way to the yacht. Flames were rising fast with heat so intense I thought my skin would blister, my lungs burn to a crisp. It seemed the entire dock was on fire. The substance they’d poured out created a ring of fire between the yacht and me.

  I stared at the leaping flames. My mouth went dry. My nightmares … I closed my eyes and breathed a prayer for strength … The only way to reach Chloe Grace was to paddle around the yacht and hope that somewhere I would find a ladder that reached to the water. It didn’t matter if I had to run through the fire. I would do it.

  I heard shouting from the yacht, and from my hiding place I saw Sandy come out on deck. He looked directly at me and shouted something I couldn’t understand. Then he frantically motioned with his hands. It was as if he was showing me a way through the fire. Behind him, the flames now licked higher, the fire spreading both directions. Fast. The air was heavy with moisture. How could this happen? What had they used?

  It didn’t matter. I had to go through it to get to Katie and Chloe Grace.

  Sandy ran inside and then came back with his phone to his ear, probably calling the fire department. Jane was right behind him. “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” she shouted. “You got to move the yacht!” Neither one seemed concerned about their captives.

  The fire that was supposed to smoke me out had gotten away from them. By now the flames licked skyward, and I could feel the heat from several feet away. I paddled the dinghy around the yacht. The fire had spread to this side as well. The paint on the gleaming yacht had begun to bubble and blister from the heat.

  But I had no time to gloat. My worst nightmare was before me. The only way to my family was through the fire. A wise person once told me that there are some things in life you can’t go around, you can’t go over, you can’t go under. You have to go through.

  I reached for the ladder that led to the deck.

  The flames were growing higher by the second. If I waited any longer, I might not make it through. I clambered up, Katie and Chloe Grace occupying my every thought. I dashed around the deck and saw no one. I went below, down the steps, through the galley, and then into a hallway. I opened each door I passed.

  “Katie,” I shouted. “Are you here?”

  “Gramsy, is that you?” a little voice called, sounding distant.

  “Yes, Pumpkin, it is. Where are you?”

  “We’re down here,” she called. “Hurry.” The sound seemed to float through a vent at the end of the hall.

  I moved closer to the vent. “Tell me again, sweetie.”

  “Down here,” she said. “Where there’s big machines and things.”

  Behind me a man’s voice jarred my senses. Before I turned I knew it was Sandy. “Follow me,” he said. “Quickly.”

  I didn’t have time to question or ponder. I just followed as he ran down the corridor. “In here,” he said in front of a closed door. He touched my shoulder. “I don’t have time to explain. They haven’t been hurt. I’ve done everything I could to protect them. Please believe me.”

  He unlocked the door. “I love them, you know. Make sure they know that.”

  I nodded and opened the door. “Chloe Grace, are you in there?”

  “I’m here, Gramsy.”

  “Is your mommy with you?” I rummaged in my bag for my B & E tools, then found what I needed and quickly unlocked the door.

  “She’s sleeping,” Chloe Grace said as I stepped inside. “She’s been sleeping for a long time.” As the child raced into my arms, I caught a glimpse of my daughter’s body, crumpled against a generator.

  Panic like I’d never known before welled inside. Katie!

  I held Chloe Grace tight. “Everything is going to be all right,” I crooned and then put her down gently. I went over to where Katie lay, knelt beside her, and lifted her wrist to be sure Sandy had spoken the truth. Her pulse was strong. She was alive. Waves of relief flooded through me. Outside, sirens wailed as fire trucks and EMTs arrived. I knew other law enforcement personnel would arrive soon, just as Max and I had planned.

  Shouts carried through the open door. Sandy’s voice rose above the cacophony, but there wasn’t a hint of triumph in the sound.

  “Katie,” I said softly. “Katie, can you hear me?” She moved almost imperceptibly. “Katie, it’s Mom. I’m here. Everything is going to be all right. You’re safe.”

  Chloe Grace stood beside me. I looked at her worried little face. “Is there water anywhere in here?”

  She nodded and brought me a plastic bottle with water in it. I poured a little on my hand, and gently patted Katie’s face with it. She opened her eyes, tried to focus, and closed th
em again. “Katie, listen to me. We need to get you out of here. I need to see if you’re strong enough to stand.”

  Katie shook her head.

  “Let’s try some water.” I held the bottle to her lips and lifted her head at the same time. She took a few sips. Her eyes fluttered open again. This time she focused on me and then moved her head to search for Chloe Grace.

  “C.G.,” she whispered. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  I helped Katie sit up. She groaned and put her hand to her head. “I must have fallen.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Where’s Sandy?” She looked around, realizing she was in the engine room. “Where are we?”

  I didn’t want to answer her first question. “We’re on a yacht.”

  “We were coming with Sandy. Is he here?”

  “No,” I said. “But we need to hurry. There’s been a fire, and we must get off this ship.”

  More vehicles had arrived outside. Sirens continued to wail. Bullhorns called for everyone on the ship to disembark.

  Katie looked confused but let me help her to standing. “How long have I been out?” She looked to Chloe Grace for an answer.

  “A long time, Mommy. You fell down and bumped your head when we were playing pirates. I couldn’t wake you up. Not even when they brought us food.”

  Katie wrapped her arm around my neck, and I wrapped mine around her waist. I took Chloe Grace’s hand. We inched our way out into the hallway and up the stairs. I saw the rescue personnel had connected a gangway, so I directed us toward that and slowly down toward the marina. The firemen were still aiming their hoses at hot spots on the ship. We stepped around some wet, charred wood, and continued walking toward shore.

  Chloe Grace wrinkled her nose. “Yuck, that smells bad,” she said.