Carolina Isle

by Jude Deveraux

  “I vote that we go to that place where we saw the sign, ROOMS TO LET, and see if we can get some accommodation for the night,” Ariel said as she held up a gold necklace with four pearls on it. “Do you think this will buy us a couple of rooms for a night? Or two?”

  “One night is all we need,” R.J. said. “Tomorrow I’ll find a telephone and get us out of here. What say you, my lords and ladies, that we join this play?”

  Ariel grimaced. “What I want to know is, is it a tragedy or a comedy?”

  “Life is what we make of it,” David said. His tone was so exaggeratedly happy that Sara and R.J. groaned. “Okay, so maybe in this place we have to work a little harder to be able to see the good.” He wiped his hands over his eyes. “I could almost believe that none of what happened did. Are we really to appear in court on Monday morning to answer a charge of killing a dog?”

  “No,” R.J. said firmly. “Once I get hold of my lawyer, he’ll send half a dozen men down here and drown the entire police force in paper. There won’t be any court hearing on Monday.” He glanced at Sara and gave a little smile to let her know that his plan was exactly what she’d told the cops would happen.

  Sara had to turn away so R.J. wouldn’t see her smile. She knew how his mind worked. So maybe she’d been wrong to try to strong-arm the police here on little King’s Isle, but it was the way she’d learned from watching R.J. He had power and he knew how to use it. She had every confidence in the world that R.J. would get them out of this ridiculous situation.

  “Shall we go to the rooming house?” Sara asked. “We might as well enjoy our time here,” she said, then her stomach gave a growl. “Sorry.”

  “My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut,” R.J. said, making Sara look at him in surprise. Usually he was careful to not show his country upbringing, so he never used old sayings like that one.

  “Do you think they sell cosmetics in this town?” Ariel asked. “Lancôme or Estée Lauder, maybe.”

  “Maybe Maybelline,” Sara said as they walked down the main street and headed toward where they’d seen the house with the sign.

  People smiled at them as they walked, but no one stared. It all seemed so normal that with every step they took, it was harder to remember the events of earlier that day.

  “Were we really in jail?” Sara asked softly. “Or did we make that up?”

  Ariel looked at her cousin as though she’d lost her mind. “We have no car and no money. We have to spend the night here, but we have no luggage. How can you think that we made anything up?”

  “It just seems so … I don’t know … normal, I guess.”

  “It doesn’t seem normal at all,” Ariel said. “One minute the town is empty and the next it’s full of people who are doing their best not to look at us.”

  “She’s right,” R.J. said. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  “I agree,” David said.

  Sara sighed. “I’m just so glad to get away from work for a few days that—” Breaking off, she glanced at R.J. “Sorry.”

  “No need to be,” he said. “I’m glad to get away from work too.” They could see the house with the faded sign just ahead of them. R.J. looked at David. “At work, I have an assistant who is quite efficient—”

  “Except that she can’t type or take shorthand,” Sara said.

  “Right. But she can remember things. She’s better than any of those talking machines that you have to type things into.”

  “So what’s wrong with her?” David asked, opening the little gate in front of the house.

  “She hates me. Pure and simple hates me. Most of the time when I ask her a question she won’t even answer.”

  As David let the others go through the gate, he looked at Sara. “Is that true? Does his assistant hate him?”

  Sara gave him a little smile, but when she didn’t answer, R.J. laughed. “See what I mean?”

  They walked up the stairs to the porch of the big old house and R.J. knocked on the front door. They heard nothing.

  “The owner’s probably in the streets with the other residents pretending to be something he’s not,” Ariel said.

  Sara raised her hand to knock again, but the door was opened by a woman—and the four of them were shocked into speechlessness. She was tall, good-looking, in her early forties, and dressed in cotton trousers and a shirt. It would have been an ordinary outfit if it hadn’t been so tight. Buttons bulged over her large breasts. She’d tied the tail of the shirt around her waist so there was an inch of trim, tanned flesh showing. Her trousers were tightly belted and so snug around her hips that if she’d had a tattoo you probably could have read it.

  But it was her expression that was the most lascivious. She looked greedy as she smiled warmly at the two men. The women stepped back and the men stepped forward.

  “Hello,” David and R.J. said in unison. They were in front of Sara and Ariel, blocking their view. “We’ve come about—” Again, they said the words together.

  The woman laughed. “I know who you are and I can guess why you’re here. Come in, please, but don’t mind the way I look. I’ve been painting the back hallway.”

  David and R.J. stepped through the doorway, their eyes on the woman and hers on them.

  Ariel looked at Sara as though to ask if they should dare enter the house. “As long as she doesn’t try to get in the bathtub with me, I don’t care what she looks like,” Sara said, following the men into the house.

  When the four of them were inside, the woman said, “I’m Phyllis Vancurren and welcome to King’s Isle, although I imagine you wish you’d never set foot on the place.” Turning, she started down the hall, motioning for them to follow. “I just made some tea. Would you like some?”

  David and R.J. practically ran after her, but Sara and Ariel held back. “I like Larry Lassiter the lawyer more than I do her,” Ariel said.

  “I’m sure she’s a fine person and has nothing on her mind except giving us food and a place to stay.”

  When Ariel looked at Sara with wide eyes, Sara grinned. “If they’re casting a play for the woman who looks in the mirror to see if she’s the most beautiful, then kills the girl who’s prettier than she is, there she is.”

  “Come along, girls,” Phyllis called over her shoulder. “By the time you two slowpokes get to the kitchen the tea will be all gone.”

  “Who do you think she wants?” Sara asked under her breath.

  “David,” Ariel said instantly. “She wants David.”

  “I don’t see why. R.J. is smarter.”

  “You don’t think about smart when you want to go to bed with someone.”

  “True, but the morning does come,” Sara said.

  The two women walked into the kitchen to see R.J. and David sitting at a big oak table drinking iced tea out of tall glasses.

  “I was beginning to think that the two of you got lost,” Phyllis said, her voice a sort of purr.

  “Do you have a telephone?” Sara asked.

  “I already told R.J. that no one on the island has a working phone right now. And we won’t have any for about ten more days. A trawler hit the underground cable and cut it in half.” Phyllis filled more glasses with ice and tea. “Usually we’re quite modern here on King’s Isle. We have telephones and even the Internet, but right now we’re in the dark ages. The dark ages with electricity and flush toilets, that is.” She looked at R.J. and David as though she’d made a very funny joke. They laughed as though she had.

  “Do you have rooms to rent?” Ariel asked.

  “Honey, as you can see, that’s all I do have. I have rooms and rooms and more rooms. They all need painting and fixing up, but I do have them.”

  Again the men laughed as though she’d said something witty.

  Sara gave a fake smile. “So how much do you charge?”

  “Whatever you have. Or you can send me a check when you get back to the mainland. I’m flexible.” She looked at R.J. with lowered lashes. “You look like a man w
ho pays his bills.”

  “Yeah,” R.J. said in a husky voice. “Actually, Sara pays them, but I put the money in the bank.”

  Phyllis looked at Sara. “So you work for him. I thought maybe you were couples.” She looked at David. “What about you? Married?”

  “He’s engaged to me,” Ariel said too loudly.

  Phyllis looked Ariel up and down. “Interesting. You two girls certainly look alike. I can hardly tell you apart. I guess you’re sisters.”

  “Cousins,” Ariel said. “Is there somewhere I can freshen up?”

  “You want the toilet, don’t you? There’s no use being fancy around here.”

  Ariel’s face turned red as she gave Phyllis the look, but the older woman didn’t seem to notice.

  “Come on,” Phyllis said, “I’ll show you your rooms. I’ve put you in the nanny’s suite. I hope that’s all right. The man who built this house had eight kids and he didn’t want to see or hear any of them, so he made a whole suite in the attic. There’re a couple of air conditioners up there so you won’t be hot. It’s two bedrooms, a big bathroom that you’ll have to share, and a little sitting room. Come along. Follow me.”

  Ariel and Sara were the first ones out of the kitchen, but the men stepped in front of them to follow behind Phyllis. When she went up the wide staircase, her hips swayed from one side to the other so much that she almost hit the wall and the railing. Behind her, with their eyes glued to her backside, came R.J. and David. The Pied Piper didn’t have such mesmerized followers.

  Ariel caught David’s arm. “She said, ‘I’ve put you in the nanny’s suite.’”

  “So?” he asked.

  “She was telling us that she knew we were coming. She’s putting us up there for a reason.”

  “Ariel,” David said with exaggerated patience, “I know that what’s happened to us has been awful, but I don’t think this entire island could be as bad as you think it is. If this were the nineteenth century, maybe, but not now.”

  “You’re so right, David. What was I thinking? Nowadays there is no murder or crime of horrific proportions. All the serial killers have been caught. All the criminals put away. And, besides, you’ve been to college while I stayed behind in our sleepy little town, so what could I possibly know?” She stepped in front of him and went up the stairs.

  Behind her, David threw up his hands in exasperation, then followed Ariel.

  Chapter Eight

  ON THE WAY UP THE STAIRS, R.J. WHISpered to Sara, “You two need to stop glowering. Get on her good side.”

  “Like you and David are doing?” she said as she moved beside Ariel. “So how much do you hate her?”

  “Scale of one to ten? About a thousand.”

  “Me? A million.”

  “Look at them,” Ariel said. “They’re like cartoon characters drooling over her.” Phyllis Vancurren was bulging out of her shirt and trousers and the men were doing their best to see all that wasn’t showing—which wasn’t much.

  “Wonder why she put us way up at the top of the house?” Sara asked. Then, stepping on a creaking floorboard, said, “Better than an alarm system.”

  On the second floor, Phyllis pointed out her own bedroom. It was a huge room, with a four-poster bed that was draped in a fine cotton-and-silk blend.

  “That fabric costs at least two hundred dollars a yard,” Ariel whispered to Sara, “and in the hall I saw what looked to be three genuine Hepple-white chairs with new upholstery.”

  “If she doesn’t need money, then why is she taking in roomers?”

  Ariel nodded toward David.

  “You think she wants David?” Sara gasped.

  Ahead of them, Phyllis and the men had stopped chatting.

  “My goodness!” Ms. Vancurren said, looking at Ariel as they entered the sitting room. “What a look!”

  “Don’t mind Ariel, she’s just nervous about Monday,” R.J. said. Behind Phyllis’s back, he gave Ariel a warning look to be nice.

  “Ah, yes, that,” Ms. Vancurren said. She sat down on one of the two little sofas in the sitting room and spread her arms across the back, which made her breasts even more prominent. David and R.J., eyes glazed, sat on the sofa across from her. “I guess you want to know about that.”

  Sara and Ariel sat on chairs that had been upholstered with fabric adorned with a bunny rabbit pattern and they all listened to what the woman was saying. As she talked, Sara looked about the room. There were bars on the windows—to keep children from falling out, or to keep them in? Had they left prison to return to prison?

  First, Ms. Vancurren told them about herself, saying that she wasn’t from King’s Isle. She’d married an older man who lived in Pennsylvania, and when he died she was horrified to find out that he’d left everything to his first wife. All she got was an old house on the island where his father had grown up, and a tiny insurance policy. It was enough to live on, but not enough to have any fun with. “If you know what I mean,” she said. Both men nodded vigorously.

  Sara and Ariel exchanged looks. They didn’t believe a word of it. Next, Phyllis told them that Fenny Nezbit was a loser and a liar, but he was the judge’s relative, and the Nezbit family had lived on the island for centuries. “So what I’m saying is that it could go either way on Monday.”

  “Why was the town empty today?” Sara asked.

  “Annual Whale Day,” she said, smiling. “We’re a small island and we all know one another, so we tend to do things together. You can imagine our surprise when we got back and heard all that had gone on.”

  “Lassiter said there were witnesses who would testify that we had …” R.J. couldn’t seem to go on.

  “Maybe there are witnesses, but did you ask the sheriff’s men about them?” Phyllis seemed to be hinting that the witnesses wouldn’t be all they were supposed to be.

  “Actually, we didn’t really get a chance to talk to anyone,” David said.

  “If I were you,” Phyllis said with an air of conspiracy, “I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m sure Judge Proctor will throw out everything on Monday morning. And I’m sure that the entire police force knows that you didn’t kill a dog. It’s just that in the past we’ve had some problems with outsiders, so the police tend to be careful.”

  “What happened to make the police suspicious of outsiders?” Sara asked quickly.

  Phyllis waved her hand as though that wasn’t important, then looked at Ariel and smiled. “I can see that you’ve heard some of those outrageous stories about us. We are truly wicked people.” She said this as though it couldn’t possibly be true.

  “What stories?” R.J. asked, at last leaning back against the couch. He was a man of the world so he’d seen lots of women with the raw sex appeal that this woman had, but David was watching her with his mouth slightly open.

  “Oh, you know,” Ms. Vancurren said, then moved on the couch in a way that made her breasts jiggle.

  “No, I don’t know.” R.J. narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. Sara wanted to hug him! Was he beginning to look past what he was being told and see underneath? Underneath something besides her clothes, that is.

  The woman glanced at Sara, then at Ariel. “You mean you haven’t heard how we kidnap mainlanders?” She gave a smile that was supposed to make her look innocent, but it lost its effect since two-thirds of her breasts were exposed. “According to the mainlanders, we arrest tourists and keep them in jail for absolutely years.”

  R.J. raised an eyebrow at her. “And you don’t?”

  She shrugged in a way that almost made her right breast pop out of her shirt. When she moved, Sara saw the front of her bra and she was sure it was Aubade. If she was broke, how did she afford French underwear? “I have some work I must do and I know that you have things you want to do.” She gave the men a leering look, as though she knew all of them were going to jump into an orgy as soon as she left.

  When she stood up, R.J. and David jumped to their feet, and Sara was afraid they were going to ask the woman to stay.

/>   “I’ll leave you to it then,” Phyllis said. “Sorry about your luggage being impounded, but you’ll get it back.”

  “And the car and all our cash?” Sara asked.

  “Is there somewhere we could get dinner?” R.J. asked.

  “Oh, you poor babies,” she said, purring toward the men—and not answering Sara’s question. “If I could cook, I’d make you a fabulous meal.” She gave a little look that said she may not be able to cook but that she had, well … other talents. “Go to the pub and tell them to put your meal on my account.”

  As she left the room, the two men fell all over themselves thanking her for her generosity.

  Ten minutes later, the four of them were heading down the stairs, but Sara was hanging back.

  “What are you doing?” Ariel whispered.

  “Counting steps and seeing which ones make noise. If we want to get out of this place, we need silence, and a way to avoid this old-house alarm.”

  “Good thinking. Cover me,” Ariel said. “I need to do something.”

  “You—?” Sara began, but Ariel had already tiptoed back up the stairs.

  As soon as the three of them were outside, David said, “Where is she?”

  “Bathroom,” Sara answered.

  “Ariel is snooping, isn’t she?” David said.

  “I really have no idea. I wonder why the people here call an American restaurant a ‘public house’ as they do in England?” she said, trying to change the subject.

  Five minutes later, Ariel came out the front door and Sara went to her. “What did you do?” she whispered.

  “I wanted to try the telephone that I saw in her bedroom. It was dead. I didn’t have time to see if the problem was that it was unplugged before I heard her coming.”

  “I wish you’d be more careful. I don’t trust that woman,” Sara said. “And where did you learn to sneak around like that?”

  “When you have a mother like mine, you learn to sneak—and lie. I’m good at both. Wait up!” she called to the men and hurried ahead.

  R.J. stopped walking and held out his arm to Sara. She took it.