by Sonia Parin
“No.”
“My throat is dry and I have all this stuff swirling around my mind.”
“Anything useful?” Jill asked.
“You should get some sleep first, I’ll tell you later,” Eve suggested.
“Are you kidding me?” Jill gestured with her hands. “Out with it, now before it fades away.”
Eve sat down next to Jill at the table and rubbed away the remaining sleep from her eyes. “For starters, there was the gun.”
“It should still be in Martha’s coat.”
Eve clicked her fingers. “I had a dream...”
“Yes, I know. You had everything worked out to perfection. You were going to open your inn; guests would arrive in droves, eat your wonderful food and go home happy. It will come true, some day.”
Eve huffed out a breath. “In my dream, I saw someone wielding a gun. We were all herded toward the beach.”
“And then?”
“I got into a pillow fight with Martha Payne. By the way, did you notice her shoes?”
“Were they in your dream?”
“Of course not. Why would I ask you about them if I’d dreamed them?” Eve pinched herself. “Am I still dreaming?” Glancing over at the kitchen clock, she groaned. Four in the morning...
“What about her shoes?”
“They’re gorgeous. Embroidered satin in a rich navy blue.”
“Interesting.” Jill tapped her finger on her chin. “You woke up thinking about Martha’s revolver and, out of nowhere, you mention her beautiful shoes. Your subconscious might be trying to tie her in to the murder.”
Eve hauled herself out of the chair. “I’m hungry.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Eve.”
“Tell that to my stomach.” She made some toast. While she craved a strong cup of coffee, she opted for tea. At some point, she might want to take another catnap. If she didn’t, there’d be hell to pay in the morning. “I haven’t done this since I was a teenager. How long can you go without sleep?”
“No longer than eighteen hours,” Jill said.
“But that’s a normal day and now you’ve been without sleep for way longer than that. You must be exhausted.”
Jill raked her fingers through her hair. “I think I’m running on adrenaline.”
“Did you find anything online we can use to get the ball rolling?” Seeing Jill’s puzzled look, Eve added, “To catch the killer.”
“I believe I am now an expert on poisons. That could prove problematic for me. If the police look into my online searching activities and ask me to explain my interest, I’ll be in deep trouble.”
“But you only started researching it tonight.”
Jill bobbed her head from side to side. “That’s not exactly true. Ever since the sushi murder, I’ve acquired a fascination for poisons. It comes and goes. Actually, I’ve been doing research every chance I get. I didn’t mention it because you’ve been desperate to steer clear of trouble.”
Eve set a pot of tea and a couple of mugs on the table and looked over Jill’s shoulder as she scrolled through her search history.
“Can’t you set it to automatically delete after a day?”
“You can, but the police have ways and means to track online activities.”
Eve tapped her finger on the table. “Remind me—”
Jill put her hand up. “Give me a second. I created a document with questions to follow up on. Okay, shoot.”
“Remind me to ask Jack if he’s looking through everyone’s online activities. If I had to buy a box of expensive cigars, I wouldn’t know where to start looking. They’re not available in every corner store. What am I saying? Of course, I’d start with an online search. Argh! I really need coffee.”
She poured them both some tea and offered Jill some toast.
“No, thanks. I’ve been nibbling on chocolate all night.”
Mischief wagged his tail in his sleep.
“He must be dreaming about chasing butterflies,” Jill said.
When Eve finished her toast, she strode over to the adjoining dining room saying, “Let’s snoop around. Someone might have dropped something or...” She shrugged. “Or left something behind.” As she strode in, she turned lights on and collected empty glasses. Turning, she nearly dropped them.
Someone had stayed behind.
“Who’s that?” Eve mouthed and pointed at the woman curled up on the couch.
“Julia Maeve. The newspaper editor,” Jill whispered.
An empty bottle of whiskey sat on a table beside her. As Eve reached to remove it, Julia stirred.
“Where am I?” Julia plunged her fingers through her hair and moaned. “What time is it?”
“Four in the morning,” Jill said. “Why didn’t you go up with the others?”
Julia slumped back down and harrumphed. “My job is done,” she slurred, “I’m not on the payroll 24/7.”
Eve and Jill exchanged a puzzled look.
Julia appeared to have fallen asleep again. Nevertheless, Jill leaned down and murmured, “Was it your job to kill Stew Peters?”
Julia moaned.
“Was that a yes or a no?” Jill asked her, “Don’t worry. You’re off the record. You can tell me.”
Eve tried to pull Jill up, but Jill wouldn’t budge.
“Did William Hunter put you up to it?”
Julia Maeve murmured, “Keep ‘em in line, he said.”
“Who said?”
“All of them.” Julia tried to roll over and nearly fell off the couch.
“Which is it?” Jill asked. “Did they all say it or did they all need to be kept in line?”
“I want a pony for Christmas.” Julia flung her arm out and hit Jill smack in the face. “She always gets what she wants. Not fair. I want my pony.”
Clutching her face, Jill rolled back, clearly biting her lip to stifle a moan.
Eve managed to drag her away. Once in the kitchen, she helped her back up to her feet. “Are you all right?”
Jill groaned. “I’m going to have a black eye. Ouch.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes, and I just remembered Elsie bit me. So, it’s a double ouch.”
Eve rushed to the freezer and brought out a steak.
“Ouch. That’s cold and hard. Is that a frozen steak?”
“Sorry. It’s all I had. Hold it, I’ll go see if I have something more suitable.” Moments later, she returned with a bag of peas.
“Now my fingers are numb from the frozen steak,” Jill complained. “I could get frostbite. My fingers could fall off. If they do, I’ll have to learn to paint with my stubby fingers.”
“How about some hot tea to calm you down? You’re sounding jittery.”
“I am calm,” Jill yelped. Her teeth chattered. “And cold.”
Eve put a blanket around Jill’s shoulders.
“How’s my eye looking?”
“Hard to say if it’s red from holding the bags of frozen peas against it or the fistful of angst you got. Julia Maeve really wanted that pony.”
“Yes, but did she have to take it out on me?”
Eve patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll live.”
“I hope I don’t need a rabies shot.”
Eve poured them both some more tea and mused, “Like you said earlier on, we’ve been going about this all wrong.”
Jill grimaced. “Agreed. I should stop getting in the way of teeth and fists. At the rate I’m going, I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up with a broken nose. But I guess that’s not what you were referring to.”
“I was thinking more about how little we know about them.” Eve shrugged. “Yes, you’ve been researching them online, but that information only skims the surface. The guests are all well-to-do. We’ve been looking for motives in the obvious areas. Anything related to money.”
Jill gave a small nod. “As the accountant, that made Stew Peters the money man.”
“Yes, but there’s more to it. He appeared to have played
a pivotal role in the group, affecting everyone in William’s inner circle, and not in a nice way. You described him as the proverbial detractor, finding fault with everything. Why did the Hunter group put up with him?”
“He wielded some sort of power over them, including William,” Jill suggested and inspected the bite mark on her hand again. “Maybe he finally went too far and someone decided to take action. Or this could be a serial killer’s first victim. We should wait until morning to do a head count. If there’s another victim, then we’ll have to rethink everything.”
Eve nibbled the tip of her thumb. “Should we take Julia Maeve’s sleep talk seriously?”
“Why not? It’s a direct line to the inner workings of her mind.”
“Yes, I can just picture us on the witness stand claiming we heard Julia confessing to killing Stew... in her sleep.” Eve waved her hand. “Okay, I’m rambling. She said no such thing.”
Jill smiled. “I think we can safely assume she alluded to it.”
“Would you like to run that by Jack?”
“Oh, yes please. I’m waiting for him to develop a nervous twitch and that might just do the trick.” After a moment’s silence, Jill looked over her shoulder. “I wonder if they’ll all make it through the night. Despite the interesting lead she gave us, Julia Maeve might actually be the most vulnerable one, curled up on the couch all alone.”
My job is done...
What had Julia been referring to?
“I’ll keep myself busy hunting down her by-lines,” Eve said, “She might have written a disparaging article about someone. She’s an editor, so I think we can assume her job involved... Let me think... spreading gossip?”
Jill cupped her chin. “We would have been scary during the Spanish Inquisition.”
They sat in silence, listening to the wind whipping about then Eve said, “I’d like to know why William Hunter came to the island. He’s a major player. This is an out of the way place. Too small and insignificant for the likes of him.”
“You’d like him to be guilty of something.”
Eve gave a small nod. “Yes.” She had no trouble picturing him asking his assistant to find the perfect setting to stage a murder. Scooping in a big breath, she pushed it out and smiled. “It would be a bonus. He might have had Stew Peters killed to cover something up. Some sort of dubious business activity comes to mind. But that wouldn’t be specific enough for Jack to pursue.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Jack has a newfound appreciation of your instincts.” Jill stretched. “I’m actually surprised we managed to get through most of the night without any serious mishaps.”
“I wouldn’t let my guard down just yet.”
“It’s always darkest before the dawn?” Jill asked.
Eve groaned. “What are the chances of this being death by natural causes?”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, because I’m a good friend but I don’t like our chances.”
Eve looked out the window. “Elsie and Eleanor should be safe. When I left them, I heard them pushing the oak dresser against the door.” Eve drummed her fingers on the table. “Elizabeth Rogue is a perfect candidate. No one mentioned her. Why is that?”
Jill said, “Because she’s doing a great job of flying under the radar. I’ll add her to the list. Jack is going to be a busy boy tomorrow... I mean, today.”
“She’s the one who organized the expensive water. I’m sure of it. She might also have been responsible for the cigars.” What possible motive could she have? Disgruntled employee? A woman scorned? Working for William Hunter might have been her way of landing herself a wealthy husband and here he is, marrying his first wife again. Eve scratched her head. “Why do I keep thinking of William as the victim? He wasn’t the target.”
Jill looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, I remember. At one point, we thought Stew Peters was killed by mistake and William was the real target, but that’s because you want him to be a target. Not because you’re a bad person, but rather because his presence here has caused you grief.”
“Thank you for clarifying that, Jill.” Eve stifled a yawn. “You should try to get some sleep. There’s no point in continuing our brainstorming session until the lab results come in.”
Jill yawned. “You’re assuming Jack will share the results with you.”
“He knows there’s no harm in me knowing.”
“Only because you have ways of extracting the information out of him and, by now, he’s learned to take the road of least resistance.” Jill got to her feet and stretched. “Okay. I’m going to curl up and close my eyes.”
Eve decided she wouldn’t be able to sleep even if she tried.
The storm had moved on but, every now and then, she caught sight of a distant flash of lightning. She hoped it didn’t rain again. That would mean another day of putting up with her unwanted guests.
As Jill settled down on the floor, Eve got busy doing some research reading the newspaper Julia worked for. Julia Maeve appeared to be strictly a behind the scenes editor. After a lengthy search, Eve failed to find a single editorial column written by her. She found a couple of reviews for J.M. Kernel’s books full of praise for the author. Scanning through the last couple of issues, Eve twirled her fingers through her hair and battled through boredom and the temptation to research poisons. Jill had definitely appeared to enjoy herself discovering new ways to kill people.
She looked up some articles Jill had bookmarked and then pushed herself to read through another one of William Hunter’s major newspapers.
“Oh, my favorite cookware is on sale. Fifty percent off,” she whispered. Unable to resist, she went to the cookware’s homepage and inspected each item on sale, earmarking the ones she would love to have. The next hour flew by as she read her horoscope, checked the weather forecast, and visited a rescue dog shelter.
“Jill is definitely better at researching.” Disgruntled by her lack of progress, she set the laptop aside and remembered mentioning Martha’s revolver but not doing anything about it. She should have suggested holding it in a safe place. Eve realized she didn’t really have a safe place... or even a safe. “I should have a safe.” Hotels had them. Did she wish to attract the type of guests who required safes? Not particularly, she thought.
She could include a condition in her bookings. “Leave the gun, bring the Cannoli.” Grimacing, she wiped her mental slate clean. Some guests might miss the reference to The Godfather and think she was encouraging them to bring their own food.
Sunrise was still a couple of hours away. Her nocturnal ruminations would either yield a bounty of ideas and leads or it would drive her nuts. Eve bobbed her head from side to side. Either way, she’d be happy because, apparently, crazy people were not aware of their mental deficiencies.
Hearing a noise out in the hallway, she stilled. Her senses didn’t pick up on any other sounds. Rising to her feet, she tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear to it.
“Something’s afoot,” Eve murmured.
She heard muffled male voices.
Bracing herself, she edged the door open and peered out. A police officer stood talking with Josh who appeared to be clean-shaven and well rested. How had he managed that?
Seeing her, Josh nodded.
“Would you like some coffee?” she offered.
They both nodded, but neither one moved from their post.
“I’ll bring it out.” She prepared the coffee and a plate of cookies. “Anything to report?” she asked.
Josh shook his head. “With any luck, they’ll be sleeping it off until midday.”
Whose luck? Certainly not hers. She wanted them out of her inn as soon as possible. Reason told her there would be no avoiding having to prepare breakfast for them. Or brunch...
As Josh and the police officer sipped their coffees, Eve edged toward the cupboard where the coats were stored.
She had no idea what coat Martha Payne had worn. There were a couple of expensive looking women’s coats, so she checked all
the pockets. To her surprise, she came up empty.
No revolver.
Chapter Eleven
“I am not panicking. I’m not.” Eve wrung her hands and looked around the kitchen, searching for something to distract her.
Jill had stretched out on her makeshift bed, one arm resting on Mischief’s shoulder. Eve didn’t have the heart to wake her up and she really didn’t see any reason to disturb her. Not yet.
Checking the time, she decided to get busy preparing breakfast.
As she set out a tray of bacon, Josh appeared.
“I’ve alerted Jack. He’s on his way downstairs.” He looked over at Jill and frowned. “Why is Jill’s cheek red?”
“Oh, that... it’s nothing. Last night she got in the way of Julia Maeve’s fist. I’ll make some coffee.” The first slivers of daylight were making an appearance. The sky remained stormy but not threatening enough to stop William Hunter and his group from leaving.
“Could you run that by me again?” Josh asked taking a closer look at Jill’s cheek. “When did it happen?”
Eve tried to recall the details. “I wanted to see if the guests had left any incriminating evidence behind and we found Julia curled up on the couch. Anyhow, Julia mumbled a few incoherent things in her sleep, which might be pertinent to the case. I know how that sounds, but I believe she would do just about anything to get a pony.”
Josh opened his mouth to speak and closed it.
Eve huffed out a breath. “She has unresolved childhood issues.”
“Does Jill think that too?”
Eve nodded. “Anyhow, Julia turned abruptly and her fist connected with Jill’s eye. I guess it also caught her cheek.”
Josh brushed his hand across his face and gave a small nod that appeared to be loaded with resignation. “How sure are you the revolver was in the coat?” Josh asked.
“When Martha Payne arrived, Jill took her coat and, when she put it away, she patted the pockets. That’s how she found it.”
“Did someone mention my name?” Jill moaned and, sitting up, she rubbed her eyes.
“Good morning,” Eve said.
“Morning?” Jill looked toward the window. “It’s still dark out there.” When she looked at the kitchen clock, she yelped. “I have never been awake this early.”
