Sandie James Mysteries Box Set

by Tessa Kelly

  Geraldine looked at her watch. “It’s almost time for lunch, dears. We should start heading to the terrace.”

  I followed them up, thinking. I had planned on asking Vincent about his iPod during lunch, but with the new information Leonie had given me I now decided to wait and see.

  The terrace looked bright and festive when we got there. Under John and Jennifer’s supervision, the waiters had set up a sumptuous buffet, complete with fresh seafood, lobster salad, and an ice cream bar. Elegant flowers crowned every table and through the open French doors, lively music streamed from the dining room.

  But the atmosphere wasn’t very festive. Just like in the sheriff’s office earlier, tension laced every smile and gesture. The guests moved about carefully, talking in low voices as if afraid to break something and saying little or nothing at all. Except for Pat and Nancy who were by the ice cream bar, arguing about something in low whispers. Kathy hadn’t come down, and neither did Tray.

  Leonie went straight over to Carl and Susan’s table. Carl gave her a friendly smile as she sat down and passed her the breadbasket. Nothing in his gestures suggested intimacy, though. Most likely, whatever the two of them had going on, he didn’t want his mother finding out.

  I joined Geraldine and Henry at their table. Dr. Jennings and Dr. Huber were already there. Not surprisingly, the conversation kept turning around the accident, though Dr. Jennings looked pale and didn’t say much, apart from pointing out that my outfit was more suited for an outdoor picnic than an elegant lunch. He himself wore pressed slacks and a starched shirt.

  Dr. Huber did most of the talking. By then, everyone had heard about my visit to the sheriff and he wanted to know how it had gone. I gave him as few details as I could while I inhaled my food, then excused myself from the table, eager to escape more questions.

  Geraldine hurried after me as I headed down the porch steps. “You’re going to keep investigating, aren’t you? Should I come with you?”

  I looked back over the other guests. They might deny it, but everyone knew the incident wouldn’t be over while there was even a sliver of suspicion that someone among us was responsible for Timothy’s disappearance.

  Geraldine nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. We have to postpone the wedding.”

  I sighed. “Are you sure? You know I’d never ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not asking me. It’s my decision. I don’t want to get married like this, not when one of my guests might be...” She paused, then added, “I just won’t feel right until I know what really happened last night.”

  “Then stay with the guests for now,” I said. “See what you can find out. I need to check on Marlowe anyway. But I won’t be gone long.”

  Leaving the hotel, I walked along the shoreline, turning off to the left once I reached the staff bungalows.

  Tied to the porch next to Ashley’s cabin, Marlowe lay sprawled on his side, looking bored and forlorn. He lifted his head at my approach and leaped to his feet, running back and forth as much as his chain permitted, panting and wagging his whole body.

  I bent to rub him behind the ears while he tried to lick my face, then freed him from his chain and put on his leash. Then I hesitated.

  Marlowe being outside meant that Ashley wasn’t at home. An opportunity?

  I took a quick glance around the empty grounds and tried the handle. As I suspected, the house wasn’t locked. I pushed open the door and went in.

  Inside, the place was simply-furnished but had everything a person might need. There was a cozy living room with a couch and a coffee table, a small kitchenette with a breakfast counter, and a narrow hallway beyond that led to the bedroom in the back.

  An empty coffee mug stood on the counter next to a cereal bowl with some soggy Cheerios floating in milk, like discarded life preservers. The remains of a breakfast-for-one.

  But the coffee table in the living room showed that the evening before had been more eventful.

  An uncorked bottle of wine, two wine glasses, and four empty fast-food containers. The date hadn’t exactly been high class, but it seemed in keeping with the picture I had formed of Timothy.

  So, the man who was now missing might’ve spent the evening at Ashley’s bungalow the night he disappeared. It still remained to find out when and how he left, and whether Majandra knew about his infidelity. Also, while it was impossible for her not to be aware of Timothy’s wandering eye, was it enough to make her snap?

  Keeping a firm hold on Marlowe’s leash, I walked down the narrow hallway, past the bathroom that held an array of dental care products. They explained the perfect state of Ashley’s teeth but didn’t hold any clues. The only place left to see, was the bedroom.

  I stood in the doorway, looking over the unmade bed and the clothes scattered on the floor. Ashley had been dressing in a hurry. But there was no way to tell if anyone had spent the night there.

  The vanity opposite the bed contained very few items of makeup and a half-empty bottle of generic brand toilette water. There was also a photo of a teenage Ashley with a tall middle-aged man who had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. With his light hair and blue eyes, he had to be Ashley’s father, the man who trained her for the job. Standing under a hotel awning and dressed in matching polos and overalls, the pair was grinning into the camera. Just in case, I made note of the hotel name: Atlantic Luxury.

  Marlowe suddenly gave a low bark and made a step toward the living room, panting excitedly. This could mean only one thing: someone was approaching the bungalow.

  We hurried to the front door and slipped out onto the tiny porch just in time to see Ashley coming our way. Luckily, she was looking toward the ocean as she went and hadn’t noticed us coming out of her house. As she turned, she started in surprise, but a moment later a smile broke out across her face.

  “Hey, Sandie! Came to take Marlowe for a walk? That’s great! I think your sister forgot about him earlier.”

  She took off her baseball cap and ran her hand through her long hair. Looking at her, it wasn’t difficult to imagine that Timothy would’ve noticed her. Even dressed in the stained overalls, she could easily rival Leonie in the looks department. But her eyes showed signs of fatigue. As confirmation, she gave a big yawn and stretched her shoulders.

  “Jeez, it’s so crazy about last night! That guy going missing like that. What do you think of it?”

  I peered at her, wondering if she was just asking, or whether someone had told her I suspected there’s been a murder.

  Before I could think of an answer, there was the sound of hurried footsteps on the stone walkway that separated the bungalows. Nancy appeared, looking flustered and red in the face as she waved us over frantically. We ran to meet her.

  “Geraldine,” she managed, breathing hard. “She told me to come get you. The authorities found Timothy’s body.”

  Chapter 12

  His body washed ashore on a private beach, about six miles east of the hotel. The owner of the property found him while taking his afternoon walk and immediately called the sheriff.

  “Imagine what a shock it must’ve been!” Nancy exclaimed as we hurried to the dock.

  “I doubt it.” Ashley gave her a wry smile. “The news of what happened here must’ve reached most of the island by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if the locals had been placing bets on who would discover the body when it surfaced.”

  “Goodness, gracious!” Nancy shuddered, cupping her face in her palms. “How morbid.”

  “It’s a small island and not much happens here,” Ashley explained. “People take their excitement anyway they can get it, even when it’s morbid.”

  Nancy shuddered again.

  “How did Majandra and Eric take the news?” I asked.

  Nancy gave me an embarrassed look. “Majandra didn’t take it well at all,” she whispered. “Ran off upstairs in tears. I’d say, she was downright distraught. As for Eric...I really couldn’t tell you. He...” she paused, uncertain whether to go on.


  “He, what?” I prompted.

  “Well, I’m sure it’s just me imagining things,” she said quickly, “but I thought he almost looked like he’d been expecting this news. Upset? Yes. But definitely not shocked.” She peered at me with anxious eyes. “You don’t think it means...”

  “I don’t know what it means,” I said. “We don’t have enough information to make any kind of a conclusion.”

  “No, no, you’re right, of course.” Nancy nodded several times but looked no less anxious.

  As we neared the dock, Sheriff Watkins climbed out of Eric’s sailboat, his expression troubled. He stared at the water splashing against the wooden pillars below, then spat as seemed to be his custom and scratched his neck. Looking up, he saw me striding over and his expression darkened even more. He waited for me to approach with a resigned expression of a cardiac patient being prescribed a diet of soy burgers and steamed vegetables.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Tell me you’re having second thoughts about this being an accident.”

  Watkins shrugged his thin shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant. But his eyes no longer had the self-confidence of this morning. “Nothing’s certain yet, Miss James. The autopsy will tell us more, so we’ll have to wait for that. Just in case, I issued a warning against anyone leaving the hotel until further notice. All I can do for now.”

  He looked past me as he spoke, the fingers of his left hand drumming a tattoo on his belt buckle. Slowly, his eyes found me again and his features arranged themselves into an expression that meant to be friendly, almost paternal. He searched for something else to say, didn’t find it and shrugged again. “Anyhoo. Nothing definite yet, but we’ll keep you all appraised.” Quickly stepping around me, he headed toward his car at the edge of the lawn.

  He started to get in, then stopped and looked up at the hotel as if something there caught his eye. A moment later, he lowered his eyes again and slid behind the wheel.

  I hurried up the slope in time to see his car dwindling into the shadows of the pines. Turning around, I let my eyes travel up the hotel’s façade. A tall man with longish graying hair stood in the window of the second floor, his eyes riveted to the road. Seeing me, he moved to the side and drew the curtains.

  I stared at the window, trying to work out where I might’ve seen him before. Then it hit me. This morning, in the photo of a fishing trip in the sheriff’s office, holding the giant Marlon. He was also the same man I’d seen on the dock but hadn't made the connection until now. The man in plaid. I had taken him to be a specialist. Maybe it was the wrong assumption.

  “Seen something interesting up there?”

  I spun round to see Ashley. She had left Nancy talking with Geraldine to walk up after me.

  “Sorry.” She snorted. “The way you ran up here, I got curious.”

  With a nod, I pointed at the second floor. “Do you know who’s staying in that room? I’ve seen that man before, but he’s not with our party. I thought we were the only guests here this weekend.”

  “You are.” Ashley squinted up at the hotel. “First window on the left? Guests don’t stay there. That room’s reserved for Mr. Watkins.”

  “Mr. Watkins? You mean, the sheriff?”

  “No. Doug Watkins, the hotel’s owner. He’s also the sheriff’s nephew.”

  “Ah!”

  She gave me a quizzical look. “What’s that mean?”

  “Nothing. Has he been here the whole time?”

  “No. He’s got a place on the other side of the island. He drove over this morning when we called him about the...accident,” she finished, looking uncomfortable.

  “I see.”

  So, the sheriff’s nephew was the owner of Sand Reed. No wonder the sheriff was doing everything he could to close the investigation. Murder of a guest wasn’t generally the best type of publicity for a hotel. Unless, maybe, it was a Halloween-themed establishment.

  Ashley stretched and put her cap back on, threading her ponytail out through the back. “Murder or not, my lunch break is over and duty calls. See ya!” She hurried off, past Nancy and Geraldine who were whispering animatedly.

  Figuring Doug Watkins might be watching me from behind the curtains, I turned and walked toward the hotel. Halfway there, Geraldine intercepted me, dragging Nancy by the elbow. She stood her friend in front of me like a naughty student before the school principal.

  “Go ahead, Nance. Tell Sandie what you told me.”

  The other was wringing her hands and looked flustered. “Goodness, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. You know I’m not generally one for gossip.”

  I grinned. I’d never heard Geraldine snort before.

  “Not much for gossip? Nancy, who are you kidding? It’s me, Geraldine. Besides, you have to tell us. You know that. Don’t forget, it could have something to do with the crime.”

  Nancy puckered her forehead, looking between Geraldine and me as if caught between a rock and a hard place. Then she sighed and nodded.

  “Oh, all right.” She leaned toward us, her eyes lighting with sudden excitement of a person who’s failing to remember she’s not generally one for gossip. “So, this happened the night of the accident. I left my room in the middle of the night and was walking past Majandra’s door when it opened and she came out. She saw me and asked if I’d seen her husband anywhere. Of course, I said I hadn’t seen him, and then she said she woke up and he wasn’t there and that she couldn’t imagine where he might’ve gotten to at that hour. She looked very worried.”

  “What time did this happen?” I asked, part of me wondering why Nancy only just thought to come forward with this information.

  “It was after one a.m. I looked at the clock before I left my room.”

  Just after one. Around the time when the boat became unmoored. It didn’t mean Eric was guilty, but the shadow of suspicion around him just got darker. At the very least, his disappearance in the middle of the night meant he had no alibi. But that wasn’t the only strange thing in all of it.

  “Nancy, why did you leave your room that night?” I asked.

  The older woman gave a small cough and smiled evasively. “Oh, just...no particular reason.”

  “Nancy.” I held her eyes, my stare growing harder until her left eye began to twitch.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll tell you. But it can’t go any further than us three. She’d be mortified if people found out.”

  “Who would be mortified, dear?” Geraldine prompted gently, taking her friend by the hand. It seemed, without really trying, she and I had fallen into the “good cop, bad cop” routine. If the situation hadn’t been so grim, I would’ve laughed.

  Nancy sighed. “It’s about Pat. You know she’s a diabetic, right?”

  “Of course. But she has it under control, hasn’t she?”

  “Well, in a way, yes. She takes the medication and everything, but she can’t always control her sweet tooth. Every once in a while, she’ll go on a bender, and then I have to be extra vigilant with her. Before we came here I found a half-eaten chocolate cake in her suitcase. Store-bought. Can you believe it?” She slapped her thigh with her free hand. “I threw it out, of course. At dinner that evening I was watching her like a hawk, making sure she wouldn’t sneak any crème brûlée. But I worried she’d still find a way to get her hands on the stuff. So when I heard her creeping out of her room in the night—you know how the walls in this place are really thin—I got out of bed and went after her. Found her in the kitchens downstairs, sneaking cheesecake from the fridge.”

  “Oh, no. That’s horrible!” Geraldine covered her mouth with her hand. “I wish you’d said something sooner. I would’ve asked the hotel staff to lock the fridge for the night. I’ll do that now, though. You shouldn’t have to stay awake nights to watch Pat.”

  “But you won’t say anything, right?” Nancy looked anxious as she grabbed us both by the hands.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “Pat’s secret is safe with us.”

  At le
ast, Nancy’s reasons for leaving the room had been good. But that answered only one question, while so many still remained. I looked around the empty grounds.

  “Where is everyone else?”

  “They’re in the big dining room,” Geraldine said. “We all got the sheriff’s notice not to leave the place, but that’s all right since I’d already settled on postponing the wedding. I was worried about John having to go to more expense, but now that this is official the extra time is going to come at a steep discount. Henry’s offered to split the bill, but John won’t hear of it. He’s still convinced we’ll be getting married this weekend.” She sighed, looking wistful despite her determination. “Well, we’ll see how it goes.”

  “But what are they doing in the dining room?” I asked to get her thoughts away from her worries.

  “Oh, right. That lovely groundskeeper, Ashley. She is teaching them Ikebana.” She laughed when I stared at her. “Wouldn't you know it? That girl is like the Jack of all trades. She’s wasted in this hotel, if you ask me. Come to think of it, Nancy and I better get back there, see what else we might learn. Besides, I’ve always wanted to learn Ikebana.”

  “Was Eric in there with you?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “You might find him in the bar. I heard him mention he needed a drink.”

  As I walked through the hotel lobby, I looked into the bar. True enough, Eric sat at the counter with a drink in front of him. Reflected in the mirror on the bar wall, his face looked grim.

  I sidled up and hopped onto the barstool next to his. Through the glass doors, I could see part of the terrace. Kathy and Tray sat in the wicker chairs by the table. Evidently, much like Eric, they weren’t into learning Ikebana with the others.

  Eric’s eyes watched me in the bar mirror as the bartender came over to take my order.

  “I’ll have a Kir, please,” I said. “That’s one part Cassis, two parts white wine.”

  The guy sniffed, looking down his nose at me. “We’re on an island, but it’s not so far from civilization. No need to assume I don’t know how to make a Kir.”