by Diane Capri
Jeremy spat another glob of blood and saliva on the ground before he turned and disappeared into the trees lining the pathway on the golf course.
I didn’t realize how much I’d been shaking until Daniel wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into the warmth and solidness of his chest. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, even as my teeth chattered.
Ginny plowed into us from the side, wrapping her arms around us both. “Hug me. I was so scared.”
I disentangled my arm that was trapped between her and Daniel’s and wrapped it around her shoulders. Daniel did the same, and we hugged her tight.
A flash of light swept over us. I lifted my head to see Sheriff Jackson brandishing a flashlight, his other hand dangerously close to his holster.
He said, “I heard there was a fight going on.”
Daniel and I broke away, but Ginny still clung to me.
“Some guy attacked Andi,” Daniel said.
The sheriff’s gaze moved toward me with his usual curiosity, but there was something else there. Concern. I nodded. “It was Jeremy Rucker.”
The sheriff frowned. “Your ex-boss?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what he was doing here. He must have skipped bail or something. I think his trial’s coming up soon, so they’ll be looking for him.”
Sheriff Jackson turned off his flashlight and slid it back into his utility belt. He took out the notebook he always carried. “All right, let’s hear the details.”
With a promise to put a call in to authorities in California, the sheriff let us go an hour later. Ginny walked with him, and I walked with Daniel. The event had sobered me up, to be sure, but I still didn’t feel very well. The world was still a bit spinny. Without any words, I stumbled through the door of my suite and collapsed onto the bed. Daniel hovered on the steps.
“I can crash on the sofa,” he said.
I lifted my arm up toward him and wriggled my fingers. He came to the bed, nuzzled in behind me, and wrapped an arm around me.
Sighing, I leaned back into him. I hadn’t been held like this in more years than I wanted to admit. “How did you know where to find me?”
“You texted me and told me to come get you at the clubhouse.
I frowned. “Really? God, I don’t remember that at all.”
“I had a feeling you were very drunk. Your spelling was horrendous. And you’re usually a stickler for grammar in your texts.”
I could feel him smiling. “Well, I’m glad you were able to decipher my gibberish.”
“Me, too.” He pressed his hand against my belly, and little licks of heat cascaded up my body. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “He just scared me a little.”
“The sheriff seemed to know who he was.”
I sighed, too tired to soothe Daniel’s ego. I grabbed his hand and brought it up to my chest, holding it tight. “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”
Chapter 5
When I woke up, I rolled onto my back and smacked my lips. I felt really weird and out of sorts as if a bad dream still lingered on the edge of my mind. My body ached, especially my arms. I felt like I’d done twenty laps in the pool. I wished my cats were here. They would cuddle up with me, and we’d go back to sleep.
Then I remembered Daniel. I patted the bed next to me. The spot was empty and cold. I sat up, head pounding, and got gently to my feet. I stumbled into the tiny kitchenette, hoping there was a pot of coffee waiting for me, all hot and full of caffeine.
“Daniel?” I turned and looked into the living room. He wasn’t there. But I did spy a note on the counter right beside a freshly brewed pot of coffee. I smiled. Yes, prayers answered. After I poured a big mug full of the aromatic brew, I read the note.
Had to go. Meeting this afternoon. Call me later. Take two Tylenol and drink lots of coffee.
XOXO
Daniel
I swallowed the delicious caffeine and moved slowly into the bathroom to get the pain meds. I took two capsules and carried my coffee back into the bedroom, hoping for another hour’s sleep before work. My cell phone buzzed from the side table.
I picked it up to see a text from Ginny.
Will you make it for the cruise? Or should I ask Casey to do it?
It was already eight o’clock. The cruise was scheduled for nine thirty. Time to get my butt in gear. I texted back—I’ll be there—and dropped the phone on the bed.
I would not allow Casey to get all the glory. The cruise was important for the hotel. Something I had organized for the tournament weekend. I’d planned a welcome brunch on the ferry where the directors of important charities could mingle with the captains of industry. A good way to bring the money together for important causes.
I downed the coffee and rushed into the bathroom to shower. The hot water cascaded over me and washed away my fatigue and the clinging disquiet over last night’s encounter with Jeremy.
Simply seeing him again had shaken me. And I had no idea what flash drive he was talking about. In all the years we’d worked together, he’d never given me a flash drive to keep for any reason.
All of the firm’s client matters and accounts were maintained on shared company computers and backed up to a cloud system owned and maintained by the firm. Whatever the flash drive had on it must have been vital to him. Perhaps its contents were important to the embezzlement charges he was facing. Maybe it even contained something that would exonerate him. I shuddered when I thought that the information on that flash drive might also send him to prison for a very long time.
Whatever the flash drive was about, I still didn’t have it and didn’t know what was on it. Ruminating about the facts wouldn’t change them. And I was running late.
I dressed, grabbed a banana for breakfast, and speed-walked down the long corridor to the main lobby of the hotel. I’d made it just in time, as Lois and Ginny were getting the stragglers organized.
When Ginny spotted me, she came over and gave my hand a squeeze. “How are you feeling?”
“Hungover.” I smiled. “But I’ll live.”
“Are you sure? I told Lois what happened. She’s very concerned. Everyone would totally understand if you wanted to take the day off.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Jeremy’s already stolen a lot from me. I’m not letting him take anything else. I got this.”
“Okay.” She squeezed my hand again.
After we got everyone wrangled up, we piled into a couple of shuttle wagons and rode down to the ferry dock. Reggie’s son-in-law, Lonnie, drove one of the ferry boats that took people out onto the lake for a cruise around the island. There were several points of interest along the way. Some inlets had beautiful rock formations chiseled by glaciers, where birds and waterfowl nested. Fort Frontenac was built in 1815 as part of the fur trade and was now a historical museum. There were two lighthouses and magnificent views of the Mackinaw Bridge that connected Michigan’s upper and lower peninsulas across the Straits of Mackinac.
As we set sail, I made sure the food was out and the mimosas were flowing. Servers dressed in stark black and white made their way around the two levels of the ferry, offering mini smoked salmon cupcakes, mini quiche Lorraine, and tiny stacks of blueberry pancakes. I managed to snag some of those along the way.
Ginny was the one who made everything run smoothly. My job was simply to answer questions about the island and the hotel after our guide explained the sights. I stood on the upper deck and looked out at the water and the beauty of the island as we came around the west bluff jutting out near the Park Hotel. I didn’t often get to see the hotel from this vantage point. It was as breathtaking as the first day I’d crossed the lake to my new home.
Lonnie steered the ferry into the inlet as close as he could get to the shoreline below the west bluff. There was a rocky beach, currently home to a family of swans. A few mallards were spotted near the shoreline.
Stuart Minsky, the CEO of one of the biggest manufacturing companies, joined me at the raili
ng. I’d read the biographies for all the bigwigs before the tournament and committed their names and faces to memory.
He said, “I heard there is tremendous fishing here off the island.”
“Absolutely. Some of the best freshwater fish you can catch. I’d be happy to organize a charter fishing trip for you and a few of the others.”
He nodded. “That sounds great.”
“I’ll set things up for the day after the tournament.” I smiled at him. “What room are you in, Mr. Minsky?”
“I’m in the Rose Suite.”
“I’ll contact your assistant with the details. Cheryl, was it?”
He nodded, took out a cigar, bit off the tip, and lit the end with a gold lighter. “You are a very resourceful woman, Ms. Steele.” He walked away, puffing on his cigar.
When he left, I stared out at the shoreline again. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of this view. As we edged in closer, I spotted something dark lying on the edge of the rocky shore. A large mass. It almost looked like a duffel bag or something similar.
Then I heard a gasp from someone below deck.
Lonnie slowed the boat and reversed the thrusters to hold it in relatively shallow water closer to the beach. A few minutes later, he turned the boat to return to the docks.
I squinted toward shore. My stomach started to churn and roil. I suspected what we were looking at.
There was another gasp. More voices floated around me.
“What is that?”
“Maybe it’s a blanket left on the beach.”
“No, I think it’s…”
“Oh God, it’s a…”
It was a body. And the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach said I knew who it was.
Chapter 6
After the sheriff and his deputies came aboard and interviewed everyone, he asked me to accompany him to the beach to identify the body, since I’d told him I might know who it was.
Lois and Ginny made sure everyone remained calm on the boat. The most asked question was, “Would the tournament still go on?” Lois assured everyone that it indeed would go on as planned, which eased everyone’s concerns. It was a fund-raiser, after all.
Sheriff Jackson and I walked along the dock to his SUV. He drove to the area of the rocky beach and parked behind the ambulance that was already there. We stepped carefully at a slow pace, so we wouldn’t slip. Dr. Neumann, the county coroner, walked behind us. A couple of EMTs with a body bag and gurney followed as well.
We walked in silence. I wasn’t sure what any of us could say. It really wasn’t a small-talk type of situation. When we reached the body, the sheriff took some pictures of the twisted form. The man’s leg was up near his bashed-in head.
After preliminary photos were taken of the body, the immediate area, and up at the bluff, the EMTs moved the body so it was face up. I stared at him in horror. Some of his features were unrecognizable after the fall from the bluff, but one blue eye, swaths of dark hair with that salt and pepper along the sides, and the dark stubble across his chin remained. He was still wearing the clothes he’d worn the night before.
“Can you identify him?” Sheriff Jackson asked.
“It’s Jeremy Rucker.” My voice shook a little.
“Okay.” He put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing manner, and then nodded at the doctor.
Dr. Neumann snapped her gloves in place and crouched to examine the body. She glanced up at the bluff and then stood. “Looks like he fell from above. Severe injuries are consistent with a fall from that height. His neck looks broken. Can’t say more than that until an autopsy is completed.”
His neck was broken all right. Several other bones were broken, too. It was too gruesome to look at any longer, and I turned away.
As the EMTs lifted his body, the sheriff took my arm and led me away from the scene back to the SUV. “I’m going to need you to come to the station to answer some questions. It’ll be easier to get all the pertinent information that way.”
“Did you call California?”
“Earlier this morning. Yeah, he definitely violated the terms of his bail. He wasn’t supposed to leave the state, and there was no special arrangement or anything like that.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. “I can’t believe this. It’s a nightmare.”
He drove us over to the station and then put me in the witness room with a cup of coffee and an apple strudel from the Weiss Strudel House. They were my favorite, but I didn’t know if he’d known that or if he just happened to have some apple strudel hanging around the station. Which was possible since the bakery was just down the street.
I sagged against the sofa and drank the coffee. I was thankful the sheriff didn’t use an interrogation room if he didn’t have to. For most interviews, he liked to use this room, with bright colors and a comfortable sofa and chair opposite a nice wooden table. There definitely was a gray sterile, one-way mirror room in the station, but for most island residents, the more comfortable room sufficed.
After about ten minutes, Sheriff Jackson came in with the notebook he always carried. He sat in the chair and put his coffee down on the table.
“I have to inform you that this interview is being recorded.”
I glanced at the camera on a tripod in the corner. The little red light blinked. “Is this a formal interview?” I asked, concern starting to grow in my belly.
“Yes.” He licked his lips, and I could see that this was difficult for him. “You were one of the last people to see Jeremy Rucker alive, as far as we know.”
I nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.” I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice, but I saw I’d failed by the wincing look the sheriff gave me. This was technically the first official interview I’d had with him. After all we’d been through on other cases, this was the first time he’d treated me like a possible suspect. It didn’t feel good.
“Please state your name and address for the record.”
“Andrea Steele, suite 118, the Park Hotel, Frontenac Island, Michigan.”
“Could you tell me how you knew the deceased, Jeremy Rucker?”
“We used to work together at Alcott, Chambers & Rucker, a law firm in Sacramento, California. Jeremy Rucker was one of the partners of the firm and my boss.”
“You left the firm in February of this year?” he asked as if he already knew the answers to these questions, because he did.
“That’s right. Jeremy was arrested for embezzlement of client funds. The remaining partners thought it was best that I also step away. I was suspended, basically.” It still stung when I said that out loud or even when I thought about how unfair the whole thing had been.
“When did you move to Frontenac Island?”
“End of March.”
“Why did you move?”
“Because I didn’t really have any other options, and Ginny Park offered me a job and a place to stay.” I set my coffee cup on the table because my hands weren’t as steady as I wanted them to be. The sheriff’s questions were starting to worry me.
“Ginny Park, a college friend whose family owns the Park Hotel?”
“That’s right.” I eyed him as he scribbled in his notebook. His hair was in disarray like he’d run his hands through it a million times already today. He didn’t look his usual put-together self. “I thought you were going to ask me about Jeremy?”
“I will.”
“But you want to establish my possible motivation first.”
His unflinching gaze met mine. “When and where was the last time you saw Jeremy Rucker before his body was discovered on the beach beneath the west bluff?”
“Last night…well, early this morning, not sure of the exact time. At the golf course just outside the clubhouse on the path to the hotel. You’d know because you were there.”
“That would’ve been around 1:15 a.m.”
I gestured. “There you go.”
“Before that, when was the last time you’d seen Jeremy Rucker?”<
br />
I narrowed my gaze and sat up a little straighter in the chair. “In February, three days before he was arrested for embezzlement.”
“You didn’t see him after you left the firm?”
“No.” It was uncomfortably warm in the room. I had to refrain from fanning my face. I didn’t want him to know I was feeling uneasy.
“Did you have any contact with Mr. Rucker after February?”
“He called me once right after I moved here. In April. To apologize.”
“For?”
“For being a jackass.” I rubbed at my nose. “He said he was sorry that his behavior resulted in me being suspended and all that mess.”
“Anything else?”
“He sent me some flowers a couple of months ago.”
His eyebrows went up. “He sent you flowers? Why would he do that?”
“I have no idea.”
“Was there a card with it?”
I swallowed. “Yes. It said, See you soon.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “So you knew he was coming to the island?”
“No. I had no idea. I just thought it was a strange message at the time.”
Sheriff Jackson nodded. “When you saw him last night, what did he want?”
“He said I had something that belonged to him. A flash drive.”
The sheriff frowned. “A flash drive? What’s on it?”
“I have no idea because I don’t have his flash drive or any flash drive.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even used a flash drive. College, maybe? My laptop didn’t even have a USB port to insert a flash drive—I used cloud storage for my personal files.
“Was Jeremy Rucker the one who broke into your suite a few weeks ago?” he asked.
“How would I know? You mean, did he confess to trashing my place and stealing my laptop? The answer to that is a big no.”
He nodded, unruffled by my indignation. “Did Jeremy Rucker threaten you at all when you saw him last?”
I frowned. “No, not really. He never verbally threatened me, but he did grab my arm and tried to back me up into a tree, but…”
