by Sonia Parin
When Mira followed Florence upstairs, Eve and David went around the house making sure all the windows were properly secured. While Eve checked the back door, David took care of the front door. They met back in the sitting room and rehashed the day’s events.
“Will your contacts come through with information about the cause of death?” Eve asked.
He nodded. “I’m sure it’ll be something along the lines of blunt force trauma. I didn’t see any blood.”
“Florence said her husband had been in good health and then one day, he dropped dead. Maybe Jamie Woodridge met with the same fate.” And maybe the excitement of breaking into the store had been too much for him.
Eve played around with a few ideas. She pictured Jamie breaking into the store and the killer following him in. Then she imagined the killer and Jamie had been working together. She liked that theory but she managed to talk herself out of it because Jamie had seemed desperate to get his hands on the cameras. What if the killer had given him an ultimatum? Get the cameras back or suffer the consequences. Or what if it had been a race to see who could find the cameras first?
Eve poured herself some water and took a sip. Holding the glass against her chin, she said, “I’d like to know how he broke into the store. Did you see any signs of forced entry?”
“No. I had a close look when we backed out of the store. There weren’t any scratches on the lock.”
Closing her eyes, Eve tried to recall the moment when she had pushed the back door closed.
She’d heard the click. She had!
Eve sat up. “I did test the door handle to make sure the door had locked behind me. I did. Earlier, when the detective asked me about it, I hadn’t been able to say with any certainty. But I just remembered. So how did Jamie Woodridge get inside the store?” She didn’t wait for David to answer. “Let’s assume someone killed Jamie. I’ve been thinking the killer followed Jamie into the store, but what if it’s the other way around and Jamie followed the killer inside the store?” Eve shook her head. Without any witnesses, or a solid piece of evidence, they’d have no way of knowing how Jamie or the killer gained entry into the store.
“That’s a possibility. The police will be looking at all his known associates.”
David went on to explain they would try to find out if Jamie Woodridge had been in any trouble.
“Hypothetically,” David said, “If Jamie had been in possession of keys to the store, the police would have found them on him.”
“Unless the killer took them from him.” Eve held up a finger. “We know Jamie wanted the cameras. When I returned to the café, I saw him hovering around the corner of the store. Now I’m thinking he might have waited around for Florence to leave. When she left, he snatched the opportunity, snuck in and… that’s when he met his end.”
“You have an active imagination, Eve.”
Eve grinned. “The cameras are key to something. I’m sure of it. But why would they be so important? They must have held a special value. I’d like to know how Jamie came by them. If we can establish that, maybe the previous owner can throw light on the matter.”
“We?” David looked amused. “I thought we were only here to make sure Florence isn’t murdered in her sleep.”
“Yes, of course. But it doesn’t hurt to toss around a few ideas. I don’t know about you, but I doubt I’ll get any sleep tonight.” Drawing her cell phone out, she searched Jamie’s name. “He had a couple of blogs.”
David nodded. “That we know of.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
David brushed his hands across his face. “Some blogs go under the radar. You know, they’re buried within the dark web.”
“It sounds like a scary place.”
He nodded. “There’s a special task force set up to deal with that side of the web.” David got to his feet. “I’m going to check the doors and windows again and then I’ll turn in for the night. I suggest you do the same. There’s no telling what tomorrow will bring.”
* * *
When Eve’s sheep failed to cooperate and jump over the fence, she turned her thoughts to wondering why counting sheep would help someone fall sleep. “And why sheep?” she murmured. Why not monkeys, or rabbits. She’d bet anything rabbits would be more cooperative.
She plumped up her pillows and set her mind to counting rabbits. Fluffy tailed rabbits, longhaired rabbits. White rabbits. Brown rabbits. Were there black rabbits? There had to be. There was always a black sheep…
Right in the middle of deciding there had to be black rabbits, her cell phone beeped. Reaching for it, she checked the message.
Jill!
“Still awake? It’s one in the morning,” she typed and sent the text message.
Her cell phone rang.
“Hey. What’s up?” Eve asked lightly. Then she frowned. “Please tell me nothing’s wrong.”
“Nope,” Jill answered. “I had to get up to make cocoa for the guests.”
And she didn’t sound happy about it.
“Are these the guests complaining about being shortchanged because I’m not there?” Eve asked.
“They’re the guests from hell,” Jill grumbled. “I’ve caught them peering around corners and trying to catch me in the act of doing something they can write home about. I’ve no idea what they hope to see me doing. Now I can’t sleep. Why are you awake?”
“I’ve been counting sheep and just before I’d started thinking…” Eve brushed her fingers across her eyes. “If I have to work in heaven—”
“Who says you’re going to heaven?” Jill asked. “And, what are you talking about? Do you actually think we have to work in heaven?”
“I’m speaking hypothetically. As I was saying, If I have to work in heaven, I’d like to be in charge of coming up with new breeds of bunnies. Do we have black bunnies?”
“I’m sure we do.”
“How about striped ones. Oh, and picture bunnies with polka dots. They’d be adorable.”
“You might be onto something, but I think you’ll encounter disapproval.”
“Disapproval in heaven? Why?” Eve grumbled. “I get enough disapproval here. What’s the point of going somewhere else for more of it?”
Jill laughed. “So, do you have any news?”
Eve caught her up on everything that had happened.
“What do you know about Florence?” Jill asked.
“She’s led a colorful life full of adventure and excitement. Oh, and excessive drinking.”
“Do you think you can trust her?” Jill asked. “It seems kind of odd that she left the door to her store open and soon after, she reported a break-in at her house.”
“What’s your point?” Eve asked.
“Two incidents in one day? The break-in and a dead body turning up at her store,” Jill mused. “What if she wanted to give herself an alibi?”
“How so?” Eve frowned. “She called the police to report a break-in at her house.”
“Yes,” Jill said. “Thereby establishing her whereabouts.”
Eve smiled. “You sound very officious.”
“Thank you. We’ve had enough practice. Have you checked the doors and windows? The killer might return.”
“All double-checked,” Eve assured her. “David took care of it and I know we can trust David.”
“Can you? You met the man on a cruise ship and Jack met him when he was a rookie. People change.” Jill lowered her voice. “They can go haywire. He might not be handling his retirement well and that could have an adverse effect on a man. Also, let’s not forget he lost his wife. He might have stopped caring.”
“He’s had a long time to recover and David strikes me as well-adjusted.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Why are you whispering?” Eve asked.
“It’s those guests of yours. I’m sure I heard the stairs creak and that can only mean they’re up and about trying to catch me in the act.”
“My guests.” Ev
e laughed. “I can imagine you married with children. The moment one of them steps out of line, they’ll be Josh’s children, meaning, you’ll blame him.”
“Do you see us headed that way?” Jill asked.
“Of course, I do. Why do you sound surprised?”
“I didn’t realize it was that obvious.”
Eve rolled her eyes. “You two are like an old married couple. Anyway, getting back to my problem, were you suggesting Florence killed Jamie Woodridge? I didn’t see him when I found the door open and went into the store.”
“She could have killed him at home and then she dragged his body to the store. You said the neighbor confirmed her habit of leaving the back door open. That could reinforce her innocence.” Jill cleared her throat and spoke in a deep voice, “Officer, when it comes to locking doors, I’m a bit of a scatterbrain. Anyone could have walked in, found Jamie Woodridge and killed him.”
Eve plumped up her pillow. Could Jill be right? “Just to be clear, you think she killed him in her house.”
“Quite possibly,” Jill said.
Eve raked her fingers through her hair. “When did she take the body back to the store?”
“Are you really asking me? You’re right there and I’m on the island looking after your thrill-seeking guests.”
“I need some paper to draw up a timeline.” Eve searched the bedside drawer but came up empty. Well, not entirely. She did find a flask. Uncapping it, she had a whiff of it. “Whisky.”
“Are you drinking at this time of the night?” Jill asked.
“Not me. I found a flask in the bedside drawer. It must have belonged to the previous occupant of this room.” Eve checked the next drawer. “Found something.”
“I’m going to take a wild stab and say you’ve just pulled out the lining on the bottom of the drawer.”
“How well you know me.”
“Maybe you should buy a small whiteboard to carry around with you,” Jill suggested. “In case of emergencies such as this one. I’m sure you’ll get a lot of use out of it.”
Eve found a pen in her bag. “Okay. Actually… not okay. I need a surface to write on.”
“Do you have a book?” Jill asked.
“You’re about to tell me I should carry a book with me at all times,” Eve grumbled.
“Of course, you should. What if you’re stranded with no crime to delve into?”
“As a matter of fact, Mira suggested I take up writing. She said I’d be good at it and that I’d surely find my niche.” Eve sketched out a rough map of the area, putting an x on the store, The Mill café and Florence’s house. “Florence dropped by The Mill Café to invite Mira to her house. It’s probably a five-minute drive from the store to Florence’s house. Then I arrived at The Mill Café and we had a coffee. That would have given Florence a good half hour. When we first arrived at Florence’s house, the police were about to leave.” Jill had suggested Florence might have killed Jamie Woodridge and then moved the body to the store. That meant Florence would have rushed to the store, dropped the body and then rushed back to the house to call the police. Eve tapped the pen against her chin. “Yes. She could have pulled it off.”
“Do you think she has a motive for killing the young man?” Jill asked.
“I heard her threaten him. She said he’d tried to swindle her. Some people are highly sensitive. It only takes the slightest provocation for them to act.”
Jill laughed. “I suspect the police will want something more solid. You’re in her house. Maybe you could find some incriminating evidence.”
“I wouldn’t mind looking around, but not because I want to find proof of her guilt, but rather because I’d like her to be innocent. She’s rather nice.”
* * *
The thought of Florence Buchanan duping them gave Eve nightmares. Her sleep felt like a stormy sea voyage with her tossing and turning from side to side.
She woke up shaking her head and convinced she’d spent the night moaning and groaning. “Florence can’t be guilty. She can’t be.” A drink of water later, the thoughts were still bouncing around her mind.
She still had a couple of hours before sunrise, which gave her plenty of time to snoop around. Did she dare? She had, more or less, forced her way into Florence’s life, insisting she couldn’t be left alone and now she wanted to find proof of guilt. It smacked of betrayal.
After finishing her water, Eve still felt thirsty so she decided to use that as an excuse to go downstairs. She had an en suite bathroom and pipes were pipes but she preferred her water to come out of the kitchen tap. Her reasoning mind told her that would be a viable excuse to provide if, by chance, someone happened to find her wandering around the house.
Downstairs, Eve took care to avoid bumping into furniture. She didn’t bother turning lights on. Instead, she used her phone to guide her way. In the kitchen, she filled her glass and took a moment to listen to the silence around her.
Eve felt Jill’s absence. Checking the time, she grimaced. It would have been comforting to have her on the line to keep her company.
She turned and gazed out the window. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she began to make out some shapes. A statue of a maiden holding a jar peeked out from within the large leafed plants around her. The branch of a weeping willow brushed against the statue.
A breeze must have swept through the garden. She heard the gentle rustle of leaves. Looking up, she saw stars twinkling in the night sky. She took a sip of water and was about to turn away when a dark shape crossed her line of vision.
Eve yelped and ducked.
Moments later, she heard a stampede coming down the stairs.
David called out her name in a loud whisper. “Eve.”
“In the kitchen,” she chirped.
David rushed in, a baseball bat in his hands. “What happened?”
Eve managed to point. “Saw something. Someone. Out in the back garden.”
David gave a stiff nod and rushed toward the front door.
“What are you doing? Wait.” She scrambled to her feet and rushed after him, reaching the hallway just as David peered out the front window and opened the front door. Grabbing the baseball bat leaning by the door, Eve followed him outside.
“Nothing,” David said. “But the side gate is open wide. We didn’t check it earlier.”
Back inside, David asked her to describe exactly what she’d seen.
“It happened too quickly for me to see clearly. I’m guessing it was a man.” She gave a stiff nod. “Yes. Definitely a man and he wore a cap.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I didn’t hear a thing.” Florence helped herself to more eggs and toast. Looking up, she saw everyone staring at her with a mixture of lifted eyebrows and frowns. “You all need to relax. If you’re not careful, those frown lines will take up residence on your faces and then there’ll be no getting rid of them.”
Detective Ken McLain got up and pushed his chair back in place. Looking at David, he said, “The squad car is still outside but I can’t keep them there forever. The officers will make the rounds and keep an eye on the place.”
David showed the detective out. Eve couldn’t be more grateful for his presence. After checking all the doors and windows again, David had placed a call to the police. Eve had insisted on waiting for them to arrive. When she’d finally seen them parked in front of the house, she’d gone back to bed and had resumed counting sheep. At some point, she had even managed to finally fall asleep.
Despite her late-night drinking session, Florence had been the first one up and Eve had woken up to the enticing aroma of freshly ground coffee.
“There are three of us,” Eve said. “You have a choice. You can come quietly with us back to the island or we can bind and gag you and bundle you up in the car and take you back with us.”
Florence chortled. “Honey, I’d like to see you try.”
“Okay. Fine.” Eve surged to her feet.
Florence’s eyes brimmed with amusement. “L
et me guess. You’re now going to try reverse psychology and threaten to leave me here alone.”
Eve knew she couldn’t do that because she knew Florence would call her bluff or not even care about being left alone. The woman seemed to enjoy walking on a tightrope without a safety net.
She turned to David and murmured, “Is there any way to find out where Jamie Woodridge lived?”
David shifted. After a few moments he drew out his cell phone. “Ken happened to mention it and I might have made a note of it in my phone. You have two seconds to look at the screen.”
Her reflexes kicked in. She lifted her own cell phone and snatched a photo of the screen.
“That’s cheating,” David complained.
“If you didn’t want me to get the address, why did you show it to me?”
“Because I wouldn’t get any peace and quiet from you if I didn’t.”
“I’m sure you believe there’s sound reasoning in there somewhere.” Eve looked up at the ceiling. “Hang on. I’ve just realized I have the power.” She didn’t need to explain herself to David. His interest in Mira meant he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the blossoming relationship, and that included keeping Mira’s nearest and dearest happy.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” David warned. “Mira is a sensible woman. Although, why she allowed you to set foot on the island is anyone’s guess.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.
Smiling, Eve looked up the address. As she did, she said, “You could have just said you didn’t have it.”
David laughed. “And what would you have done then? Let me see, I picture you harassing Detective Ken McLain and you ending up locked up. That would have upset Mira. Then, I would have had to pull strings to get you out.”
“More reason for you to always take the road of least resistance.” Eve laughed. “Here it is. It’s not far from here.” She could walk there in under fifteen minutes.
David sighed. “Should I put my walking shoes on?”
