by Tessa Kelly
I blinked. What do you know? A sensitive bartender. “Uh...sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
Next to me, Eric lowered his eyes with a smirk.
“In any case, we don’t have Cassis here,” the guy added, staring off to the side. “Do you want anything else?”
“I’d love a glass of your Honeysuckle wine.”
That drew a semblance of a smile out of him, although it might’ve been a sneer. A moment later, a glass of pale golden liquid appeared in front of me.
The bartender ambled off to the other side of the bar. Once he was out of earshot, Eric looked up again. Our eyes met in the bar mirror.
“What are you drinking?” I asked.
He raised the tumbler to his lips and took a sip of the honey-colored liquid. “Rum. It’s the drink of all pirates, isn’t it? Thought I’d give it a go.”
I turned my glass slowly between my fingers. “I thought you were more of an explorer, just sailing round the world. Didn’t know you fancied yourself a pirate.”
“I don’t.” His blue eyes stared pointedly at me in the mirror. “It’s you who wants to peg me as one, from what I hear.” After a short pause, he added, “I know you’re trying to prove I killed my crewman.”
I let his words hang between us and held his gaze in the mirror. “I just think you don’t seem very perturbed over Timothy’s death. You’ve spent months together in close quarters, but you don’t even call him by his name. You say 'crewman'.”
Eric’s jaw tightened. He looked down at his drink, then dragged his eyes up to meet mine. The corner of his mouth twisted in a bitter smirk. “The man was carrying on an affair with my wife and made no secret about it. Did you really expect me to cry over his death? I’m far from heartbroken here, and that’s the truth. I wanted him off my boat before we ever came here. And now, I guess he is.”
Wow. I swallowed, tiny creepy-crawlers scurrying under my skin. “That doesn’t sound like denial.”
“That’s because I’m not denying anything.”
I looked at him for a moment longer, far from being convinced of whatever it was he was trying to convince me. Then I took a long sip of my wine. It tasted like mead. I like mead.
“I’m not trying to prove you killed Timothy,” I said. “But I’m positive that somebody did. All I’m trying is to find out who.”
I left him to ponder that one and walked out onto the terrace.
Sitting in a wicker chair opposite Kathy, Tray shielded his eyes from the sun and waved me over. “Sandie, come sit with us.”
I went over and pulled out a chair but didn’t sit in it. “Are you sure? This looks like a private conversation.”
“Nah, you’re just the person I need.” He glanced at Kathy who sat in the shade staring at the sea and looking morose. Her pinched face lacked color, and her eyes were puffy from recent tears. Two untouched drinks lingered on the table in front of them.
“I’m trying to convince your sister not to send me away,” Tray said. He sounded cheerful, but his eyes looked worried. “Could use your support here. You don’t believe Kathy should bow down to her ex, do you?”
Kathy glanced up at me with a frown and quickly turned away again.
“Look, I really don’t want to get in the middle of this,” I protested.
“Well, someone should.” Tray leaned over and took Kathy’s hand. “You know if you give in to him, he wins. Otherwise, what’s the worst-case scenario? That he makes you sell your bakery?”
Her eyes flashed as she nodded and quietly wriggled her hand free. Then she looked up at me and dug in her pocket, coming up with her room key. “It’s chilly out here. Could you bring down my shawl? I’d get it myself but—”
I shook my head, knowing this was Kathy’s way of letting me know she didn’t want me in the conversation.
“It’s fine. Of course I’ll bring it.”
“Look, it’ll be okay,” Tray said as if he hadn’t heard us. He moved closer to Kathy, seeming undaunted by her rebuff, and took her by the shoulders this time. “I’m here for you. Don’t you know that by now? We can work it all out. I’ve been thinking of opening up a cafe or a bistro in the city. You could sell Kathy’s Bakery and use your half of the money to go into business with me. We’d be partners. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
As I left, Tray’s voice carried over, trying to convince Kathy of his plans for the future. It sounded like a generous offer, but I doubted Kathy would accept. Not if it meant selling the bakery, and definitely not while her divorce wasn’t final yet. Still, anyone could see how much happier she’d been since she and Tray started hanging out. I hoped she would at least reconsider sending him home.
But Kathy was right. I had no business listening in on her conversation, especially since I already had my hands full with the murder investigation.
Upstairs, I paused while passing by Majandra’s room. Someone inside was crying.
I edged closer on the soft carpet and carefully pushed the door open an inch.
Majandra sat on the floor against the bed, for once looking the opposite of made-up and polished. She had pulled down the edge of the comforter and was sobbing into it, alone with the grief that, this time, left no doubt of being genuine.
Chapter 13
My phone vibrated, making me jump. I backed away from Majandra’s door, hoping she hadn’t heard the sound, and tiptoed to my room.
Could it be Liam? It had been hours since we had our fight. I was sure he’d call by now.
It wasn’t Liam, just a notification alerting me of an incoming email. I let disappointment wash over me. I should seriously consider turning off that notification feature. Especially since the email was from yet another editor telling me in polite terms that my novel wasn’t right for her. I didn’t bother saving it, just pressed the delete button. If I told myself I didn’t care, would I believe it?
I hurried over to Kathy’s room, stuffing the phone in my pocket as I went. Her shawl hung from the back of the chair by the vanity table. I grabbed it and sprinted downstairs again.
Kathy was no longer on the terrace, though. Instead, Susan, Vincent, and Carl sat playing cards at her table. Tray appeared striding from the corner of the hotel, smiling as he ran up the steps.
“Can I play?” he asked.
“Sure, man.” Carl pulled out a chair for him with his foot. “The more, the merrier.”
Tray sat down and stretched his long body, then saw me and grinned. “Your sister wanted to go for another walk around the grounds. You can leave that with me if you want. I’ll give it to her when she comes back.”
“Works for me.” I handed him the shawl.
He seemed to be in a much better mood now. In any case, he wasn’t upstairs packing, and that was a good sign. Must’ve managed to convince Kathy to let him stay.
There were footsteps behind me and Geraldine and Leonie came out onto the terrace. Geraldine held a shallow vase with a wide pin cushion at the bottom. A tall leafy branch and three delicate white flowers of varying heights stuck on the pins, the branch arching over them protectively. The overall effect was lovely and understated.
“I’m glad you young people are finding ways to entertain yourselves,” Geraldine said. “But you should’ve finished the Ikebana class with us. It was most enlightening. What do you think?” She raised her creation for us to admire.
Carl tossed his light hair out of his eyes. “Flowers are boring. Vince has a better idea what we can do for fun. Right, Vince?”
“Heck, yeah.” Vincent stuck his hands behind his neck, balancing his chair on two legs. “We’ve got to unwind, get the jitters out after everything that’s happened.”
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
“Organizing a scuba trip. I’ve already talked to the hotel staff about it and they said they’d help. It’ll be nothing big. We’ll stay in the vicinity of the island, so that’s not breaking the law. But we gotta get away from this morgue for a few hours.”
Susan
frowned. “Shush, Vince! A man died last night.”
“That’s why I said morgue.” He laughed, then rolled his eyes. “Oh, chill. I just want to have some fun. All this tension is getting to me.”
“You think it’s not getting to me?” she flared. “Being stuck here! You don’t even care how I feel, do you?”
Vincent raised his hands in self-defense. “Easy there, babe! Of course I care. Why do you think I’m organizing this trip?” He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, then looked up at Geraldine and me. “The hotel’s promised to bring two of their motorboats over, so it’s all set for tomorrow. Should be fun. You guys gonna come?”
“Oh, that kind of an outing isn’t my cup of tea,” Geraldine said. “I went diving once, back when George, my first husband, was still alive. He liked it, but I didn’t care for it. It’s the rubber they have in those wetsuits. It gave me such a bad allergy, I broke out in hives after just a few minutes. Never went diving again.”
“I’d go,” I said, “but I don’t dive.”
Vincent smirked. “What, also allergic?”
“No.” I shrugged, annoyed. “Just never got around to learning how.”
“Too bad.” Susan made a face at me, then her eyes lighted on Leonie. “What about you? You’re on a boat, like, twenty-four seven. I’m sure you can scuba dive, right? You’ve got to come. I don’t want to be the only girl out there tomorrow.”
“Actually, I tried taking the class,” Leonie said, “but I just couldn’t. Diving hurts my ears too much. I can barely hear for days.”
“Jeez, you gotta be kidding me!” Susan clicked her tongue in annoyance and glanced at Carl, raising her eyebrow as if to say, “Nice girlfriend you got there.”
Carl took her needling calmly. “Should I let everyone here know you’re scared of kittens?” He covered his mouth with his hand. “Oops! I guess I just did.”
Susan glared at him. “You know perfectly well I’m not scared of all kittens. I just don’t like the black ones, they’re unlucky. And there aren’t any kittens here anyway, so it’s not even relevant.” She turned back on Leonie, still visibly irked. “Well, what do you like to do, besides walking around in flowy outfits? You must have a hobby or something, right?”
Leonie looked flustered as she opened her mouth, but I didn’t get to hear her answer as Geraldine pulled me away from the group.
“Remember that iPod you found on the beach?” she whispered. “Don’t you think we should ask Vincent how he lost it? He’s been looking for it this entire time.”
I glanced at Vincent, enjoying himself as he leaned back in his chair. A smile played on his lips as he watched his girlfriend grill poor Leonie. Carl sat staring at his cards, making no more attempts to stick up for her. Whatever he and Leonie had going, I was beginning to think she could do better.
“You’re right,” I told Geraldine. “I was waiting for a good time to ask him about the iPod. Let’s do it now.”
“Vincent,” Geraldine called. “Could we steal you away from your cards for a quick word?”
Leonie, looking relieved, used the moment’s distraction to slip away from Susan and rejoin us.
Vincent got up with a lazy smile. “Well, well. I’m just so popular these days, all the ladies are screaming for my company.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “You wish.” But she watched with a worried look as the four of us walked down the lawn together.
Once we were out of earshot, I took the iPod from my bag. “Is this yours?”
His eyes lit up. “I was looking for it all over the place. Where’d you find it?”
“In the reeds down by the dock. Do you have any idea how it got there?”
His expression turned guarded for a moment, then he grinned and slapped himself on the forehead.
“Oh, right! I remember. It was after we came back from the boat outing. Susan went to bed, but I had a headache and I didn’t want to wake her so I came down and went for a walk.”
“How far did you walk?” I asked.
He leveled a stare at me. “What’s this, an interrogation?”
“Vincent, it’s a simple question,” Geraldine said reproachfully.
He flared his nostrils, but then shrugged. “I didn’t go far, was too tired. Just sat on the sand and listened to some tunes for a while. It was getting late and I kind of dozed off, I think. That’s when I must’ve dropped it.”
I kept my expression neutral, trying not to give away my reaction. Did Vincent realize he had just admitted to being near the dock around the same time that the boat became unmoored?
Leonie’s eyes widened, but she was standing next to Vincent and he didn’t see it. Geraldine nodded, looking pleasantly interested as if Vincent was telling us an entertaining story.
“Was the boat still at the dock when you went down there?” I asked.
He swallowed, blinking a few times before he finally answered, “Well...no. I saw the boat, but it was already out at sea.”
This time, even Geraldine couldn’t keep from gasping. Her hand gripped his bicep as she peered at him. “Vincent, you saw it drifting? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
He winced and clicked his tongue. “I know, I know. We should’ve... I mean, I should’ve called someone. I just figured it wasn’t any of my business. And I didn’t know anyone was on board. Susan and I left the boat before everyone else did. How was I supposed to know that guy didn’t go to sleep at the hotel?”
Over his shoulder, Leonie and Geraldine exchanged meaningful glances. I was working hard on my poker face.
“Did you see anyone else at the dock that night?” I asked. “Maybe, someone was close by?”
This time, he nodded without hesitating. “That old guy was there. What’s his name...Dr. Jennings.”
“Did he see you?”
“Uh, no. He was on the dock and he had his back to me. I didn’t want him seeing me, so I hid under the dock. I was waiting for him to leave, and that’s when I dozed off and my iPod must’ve fell out.”
“Why would you hide from Dr. Jennings?” Geraldine asked, frowning.
He fidgeted, clearly growing uncomfortable with our questioning, and ran a nervous hand through his thick hair. “Look, I... I just didn’t want to get drawn into a long conversation with the old geezer, okay?”
“Conversation about what?” I asked.
“Oh, come on. You know how these old guys are. They start talking about stuff and they can’t stop. Try getting away from them.” He glanced at Geraldine. “No offense.”
She gave him a wry smile. “None taken, young man.”
Vincent sighed. “Look, I thought it would be easier to hide, that’s all. Are you guys done with the third degree or what? I want to get back to the game.”
Geraldine raised an eyebrow at me.
I nodded. “Sure, Vincent. Thanks for being so patient with us.”
He walked back to the table, Susan’s eyes drilling silent questions into him as he sat down.
“You know what?” Geraldine whispered. “If Vincent’s story was a pair of old socks, they wouldn’t even be worth mending for all the holes in them.”
Chapter 14
Geraldine was right. Vincent’s story sounded absurd.
“The reason it’s so bad,” I said, “is because at least part of it is true, and the part that’s not true is fitted in so poorly it rips the whole thing at the seams. I’m sure if he’d had time to think about his answers he would’ve come up with something better. But that would be no help to us. As it is, Vincent’s definitely hiding something, and I think he’s doing it to protect Susan, not himself. For whatever reason, he’s covering up the fact that she was down at the dock with him. He even let it slip just now.”
“You mean when he said 'we should’ve called someone', instead of 'I'?” Leonie asked.
“Yeah. And that lie about having a headache. Who listens to music when their head hurts?”
“And did you notice how he kept changing his story?” Gera
ldine said. “First, he was sitting in the sand and dozed off. Then, he was hiding under the dock from Dr. Jennings.”
“Is one of those things true?” Leonie asked. “Or are they both lies?”
“I’m almost certain the part about Jennings being on the dock is true,” I said. “It’s the only question Vincent answered without thinking. Then again, if he’d thought about it, he might’ve realized it contradicted what he told us before.”
“You’re right, dear.” Geraldine propped her chin on her knuckles, nodding thoughtfully. “If Vincent had been lying about Dr. Jennings, he would’ve hesitated before answering.”
“So how do we get the real truth out of him?” Leonie asked.
“We don’t,” I said. “Not just yet, anyway. The best thing we can do for now is to leave it alone, let Vincent think we bought his story. In the meantime, we should talk to Dr. Jennings and see if he admits to being on the dock.”
I thought back to the conversation between Jennings and Huber I overheard on the first night here. Jennings had been beside himself, rattled by the presence of another male guest. Since it couldn’t have been Henry, the man of honor, or John, Henry’s nephew and the wedding organizer, I had assumed Jennings was talking about Eric. Now, it seemed I might’ve been wrong. I told the others about the conversation.
“Unlikely as it sounds, I think Dr. Jennings and Timothy might’ve had history,” I said.
Geraldine frowned. “That does seem unlikely. Where could they have met?”
“Hopefully, we’ll know once we talk to Jennings.”
Across the lawn, Kathy strolled out from behind the hotel, Marlowe running exuberant circles around her. She had a large stick in her hand and she threw it for him to chase. He hurtled after it in a blur of paws and flopping ears, caught it before it hit the ground and tore back to her for another go.
I excused myself to Geraldine and Leonie and went to my sister. “Glad to see Tray is still here.” I kept my voice low so as not to be overheard by the people on the terrace. “Did you two have a good talk?”
She smiled as she threw Marlowe’s stick again. The setting sun painting her features in gold, she looked happier and more relaxed than she’d been in days. “You heard the part about him making me a business proposition. I’m not going to accept it, of course. I still have a lot of things to figure out with the divorce. But Tray said something that really hit home. I can’t be scared of Jeff anymore. Not if I want to move on with my life. He can threaten me all he wants, it won’t get him anywhere. He and I were over long before we decided to separate, and it’s time we made it final. Even if that means selling the bakery...” Her voice trembled and her eyebrows tightened for a moment, then she added with a brave smile, “I guess I’ll just have to look at it as paying the price for my freedom, right?”
