An Equal Measure of Murder

by B. T. Lord

  Cammie rubbed the rain from her eyes with the palms of her hands. Jace was right. There was nothing they could do. She leaned into him, suddenly feeling very tired.

  By the time they reached the Paradise Cove Hotel, both were bedraggled and quaking from the frigid rain and buffeting winds.

  “Goodness!” Maud Northcott exclaimed when she saw the two stumble into her kitchen. “You’ll both catch your death if you don’t get out of those wet clothes immediately.” The stout woman immediately set to work. She stripped off their soaking rain slickers and laid them near the heater. She then shooed them up the back stairs to the first floor where they had a suite overlooking the ocean. She bustled about stoking the fire in the large marble fireplace that took up part of the wall facing the king-sized bed. Once she had the fire roaring, she turned back to the couple.

  “Mercy,” she muttered under her breath when she saw Cammie fumbling to undo the buttons on her shirt with fingers that shook uncontrollably. Glancing over, she saw her nephew was faring no better. After unbuttoning Cammie’s shirt, Maud hurried to the door. “Glenn, get up here right now!” she shouted. A few moments later, Jace’s uncle appeared at the door.

  “Jace and Cammie were caught out in the storm. They need help getting out of their soaking clothes. You take care of Jace while I get Cammie into the bathroom.”

  A half hour later, Cammie and Jace were wrapped in thick wool blankets, sipping cups of warm chicken broth as they sat in front of the roaring fire. Maud and Glenn were sitting on the edge of the bed watching them. Behind them, the rain bombarded the large picture windows, punctuated now and then with the mournful howling of the wind.

  “What in heaven’s name made you go down to the beach on a day like today?” the older woman asked. “You could have easily slipped on those steps and killed yourselves.”

  Cammie had finally stopped shivering enough to speak. Holding tightly to the hot mug of broth, she looked to Jace’s aunt and uncle. “You need to call the authorities,” she said.

  “Authorities? Whatever for?” Glenn asked.

  “There was a boat out there.”

  “A boat?” he asked incredulously. “In this weather?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of boat was it?”

  “I was too far away to see the make. It was at least a seventeen-footer, with an outboard motor.”

  “This is an island of experienced fishermen. No one in their right mind would go out in a storm like this,” he scoffed. “Especially in a seventeen-footer. It would be swamped in no time.” He paused. “The only way a boat would be out there is if it broke loose from its moorings.”

  Cammie shook her head. “There was someone inside. I know because I saw them throw a body overboard.”

  All three Northcotts stared at her in disbelief.

  “Babe, Uncle Glenn is right,” Jace finally spoke. “You saw those waves. Any boat that went out there is probably underwater by now.”

  “I know what I saw. I was standing at the cliff, watching the storm come in. Just as it started to rain, I decided to head back. Something caught my eye and when I looked, I saw the boat slipping in and out among the waves.” She saw the dubious expressions on their face. “Look, I thought it was crazy too. I kept looking to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light. That’s when I saw them heave something over the side.” She looked into Jace’s face. “It was a body.”

  “Honey, it was dark. The ocean has a way of making us think we’re seeing things that really aren’t there,” Maud spoke up.

  Cammie almost blurted out that she of all people knew a body when she saw one. However, by mutual agreement, she and Jace had decided to keep secret what she did for a living. She hadn’t come to the island in any official capacity, and she was afraid that if they knew she was a police officer, it would make them ill at ease as it did many people when they were around law enforcement.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. “Please, just call the authorities.”

  Opening her eyes, her heart sank when she saw them look at each other.

  They think I’m nuts. They’re convinced my depression has rattled my brain. Now I’m imagining dead bodies everywhere.

  She glanced at Jace and saw him trying to keep his face neutral, but she knew he was thinking the same thing too. It cut her to her core.

  “I know what I saw,” she insisted stubbornly. “If you don’t call the police, I will.”

  “Things don’t run out here the way they do in Twin Ponds,” Glenn explained. “After policing ourselves for generations, the islands finally hired a deputy six months ago. He lives over on Sarke Island. Ellis will never be able to get out here until the storm blows over which, according to the reports, should be around dawn. Nor can I, in good conscience, risk the lives of the locals by putting a call out. If there was a body dumped overboard, they’ve long since drowned. And whoever did the dumping is probably at the bottom of the sea by now as well.” He swiftly cut off Cammie’s protest. “I promise to call Ellis first thing in the morning.”

  After bidding them good-night, the two left the room.

  “They think I’m certifiable,” Cammie muttered after they’d gone.

  “No, they don’t,” Jace answered half-heartedly.

  She glanced at him. “Yes, they do. And so do you.”

  “Cammie, please…”

  She threw off her blanket and began to anxiously pace. “I know I’ve been in a dark place these last few weeks, but I’m not crazy.”

  “No one said you are.”

  “I saw the looks on your faces. A blind man could read what you were thinking. It doesn’t help that they don’t like me.”

  His eyes bounced back and forth as he watched her. “Babe, what are you talking about?”

  “Your parents have made it clear how much they can’t stand me. I’m sure they told Maud and Glenn what a terrible person I am. I can just hear your father.” She lowered her voice in a weak imitation of Mr. Northcott. “Well, you know Glenn, she is seven years older than Jace. She’s probably one of those cougars you read about who just wants to satisfy her unnatural sexual appetites with my son.”

  Jace grinned. “And there’s something wrong with that?” He instantly swallowed his smile when he saw the glare in her eyes.

  He stood up, shook off the blanket and stopped her mid-pace. Taking her in his arms, he held her tightly against his chest. “Sweetheart, I’m their only child. In their eyes, no one will ever be good enough for me.” He thought it best to leave out the fact that his parents did dislike Cammie, not only because she was older than he was, but because of what had happened the year before when Twin Ponds’ local boy turned hero Eli Kelley was found murdered. The investigation had swept Jace into the middle of an emotional nightmare that resulted in the fracturing of his and Cammie’s relationship. It had taken months for them both to trust each other enough to give their relationship another try.

  “If I thought Maud and Glenn would dislike you,” he continued,” I never would have suggested we come here. They’d never be influenced by whatever Mom and Dad think or say because they haven’t spoken to each other in years. They like you, Cammie, very much. But what you said is not in their sphere of experience.” He pulled her away and met her gaze. “If you say you saw a body dumped overboard, I believe you. Glenn will call the police tomorrow and we’ll get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, let’s climb into bed and watch the fire. Even after two cups of broth, I’m still cold. I could use a warm cuddle.”

  Long after she’d fallen asleep, Jace remained lying next to her, staring into the flames. He couldn’t shake the gnawing concern over what Cammie may or may not have seen. If she did witness a body being thrown into the ocean, it was inevitable she would be swept up in the investigation. The deputy would need to question her. And knowing Cammie as well as he did, he knew her nosiness would know no bounds to uncover what really happened. At the same time, was she really ready for that? He knew she�
�d say yes. But he had his doubts. They’d only been on Eagla for a week. As far as he was concerned, it was too soon for her to get involved in any kind of murder probe.

  He’d spent the last seven days surreptitiously watching for any signs of PTSD. Her emotions were still close to the surface; tears welling up at unexpected moments. When he saw them, he knew she was remembering. At least, she was sleeping better. Her last nightmare had been the day after they arrived. The flashes of irritability were ebbing as well. Yet, she was still walking an emotional tightrope. Anything that brought up recollections of what had happened, and she’d go over the edge.

  Yet, no matter how hard he tried not to go there, there was the more frightening alternative. Had Cammie actually seen a boat out on the ocean? Had she actually witnessed a body being thrown overboard? Or had her trauma manufactured the scene? She was conscientious to a fault. She thrived on being a responsible and dependable officer. Although he hadn’t seen any signs of it yet, was she chafing at her inactivity? Walking the beach every day didn’t hold a candle to being on the trail of a murderer. Did she want and need to be involved in something like a criminal investigation to feel useful? To feel wanted? To feel that rush when the killer was finally apprehended?

  Had she somehow invented the boat and the body to keep from being bored?

  He watched the flames dance as the wood snapped against the glass pane. Each scenario left a fear in his heart that refused to go away. No matter how he looked at it, the conclusions weren’t good.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Eagla Island

  It was the calm after the storm, Deputy Ellis Martin mused, as he swung his Boston Whaler towards the harbor at Paradise Cove. The sun was shining, the sea was tranquil. It was hard to believe just twelve hours earlier, they’d been at the mercy of a violent, angry tempest. Now, the only remnants of the gale were the large bands of seaweed floating atop the water.

  He’d been halfway out the door to start his rounds that morning when he received a call from Glenn Northcott telling him his presence was needed. He wouldn’t explain why, ending the phone call with the cryptic words, “My nephew’s girlfriend will fill you in once you get here.” Having met Glenn and Maud several times, he knew them to be hard working, practical people. It had been an unusual phone call. But since taking up the position of deputy, he’d had no choice but to become accustomed to the unusual.

  Ellis lived on Sarke Island, the largest of the four islands that made up the Coffins. The second largest was Eagla, followed by the smaller island of Neddy Point where the lighthouse that had once guided the clipper ships going in and out of Portland was located. All three were now major tourist destinations in the summer, filling to capacity between May and early September. Once the last tourist boarded the ferry that would return them to the mainland, the Coffins settled down to a quiet existence, riding out the fierce winter storms that would batter their homes until the craziness of the tourist season began again the following spring.

  The fourth island, Redemption, was the most remote of the four. It stood alone in the Atlantic, uninhabited, shrouded in fog and rife with superstition.

  When he’d first taken the job, Ellis spent his initial months exploring Sarke, Eagla and Neddy Point. He tried to gain an understanding of the inhabitants, of what made them tick, hiking the coasts and interiors to get a feel for the island itself. They each had their own unique feel and reputation; it was important that he understand each island’s character if he was going to succeed at his job. This included poring over the few history books that spoke about the islands’ past. What he discovered gave him pause. And a few sleepless nights.

  He'd taken this position because, quite frankly, he wanted a job that guaranteed quiet. He’d been through enough in his last job, especially his final case. He’d been so unsettled by what he’d experienced, it drove him to turn his back on a brilliant 20 year career. He thought this job would be just the thing he needed to regain his equilibrium. However, after reading about the Coffin Islands, he wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake coming here.

  Ellis throttled down the motor and eased alongside the dock.

  He grabbed the rope, swung up onto the pier and tied the boat up securely. Turning, he looked upon the small town of Paradise Cove. Like many seaside towns, there was a main thoroughfare that ran down the center of what was considered downtown. The stores and restaurants were all located along Harbor Street, with little alleyways shooting off that led to tiny boutiques, overly priced art galleries and private cottages. The Paradise Cove Hotel stood atop a hill, giving it a panoramic view of the town and harbor, and the sea beyond.

  There was a road that meandered up to the hotel. He took off on foot. By the time he arrived, his bones were frozen through, despite wearing a heavy wool coat over his uniform. The hotel itself was painted a light peach that helped it stand out. A wide veranda ran along the length of the building. In the summer it was filled with wicker chairs and tables and chattering summer visitors. Now it was empty, awaiting the arrival of the snows that would soon descend.

  Inside, the hardwood floors were covered with thick Oriental rugs. There was a sitting room to the left, with floor to ceiling windows where tea was served during summer afternoons. On the other side was the library where guests were encouraged to pick a book to read during their stay. In the center was the desk behind which hung the keys to each room. Next to the desk was the staircase that led up to the guest rooms. The hotel looked empty when he arrived. He went up to the desk and hit the bell. A sharp ding reverberated throughout the establishment. A few moments later, the six-foot, white-haired man, dressed in jeans and a dark blue Gansey sweater appeared.

  “Hello, Glenn. Good to see you,” Ellis said as the two men shook hands.

  “Hey, Ellis. How was the trip over?”

  “Cold.”

  The man laughed. “Maud just put on a pot of coffee. Or would you prefer some hot cocoa? She makes a mean cup of hot chocolate.”

  “Coffee will be fine, thanks.”

  “Come into the kitchen.”

  Following Glenn through the glass doors that led into the dining room, beyond which lay the kitchen, he asked, “It can’t be my good looks that made you call me out here.”

  “Truth is, I’d prefer Cammie to tell you herself. She was the one who insisted I call you.”

  “Cammie?”

  “My nephew’s girlfriend. They’re visiting from the mainland.”

  It wasn’t often mainlanders visited the islands during the winter months. The two-hour sea crossing was usually rough, the weather frigidly damp and windy, with a cold that managed to seep into one’s very bones. The lively tempo of the summer ground to a halt. Most of the restaurants and shops closed down. Whatever night life there was consisted of having a few beers at Fiske’s, the only pub on Harbor Street that stayed open year round.

  For the locals, the off season was time to hunker down, go inward, recover from the summer traffic and gear themselves up for the following year’s tourist season. Ellis had yet to spend a winter on the Coffins, but he’d been warned that the enforced hibernation usually resulted in higher incidents of alcoholism, drug abuse and whatever else people used to get through the long, cold, tedious months.

  He absently wondered why the Northcotts’ visitors chose such a time to visit.

  Reaching the end of the dining room, Glenn swung open the door and they stepped into a large, bright kitchen. In the center of the room was an enormous island where the food preparation took place. Maud was seated at the corner of the island, peeling potatoes from a large bowl.

  Unlike her husband, Maud stood about 5 feet 5 inches. Her grey hair was cut fashionably short and she wore a red apron over her jeans and sweater with the name Paradise Cove Hotel stitched on the front. She was slightly overweight, but that didn’t stop her from indulging her love of cooking. It was well known throughout Eagla that she made the best meals and baked the most scrumptious desserts. As usual, she had a plate of hom
emade chocolate chip cookies sitting on the counter near the coffee pot. Ellis eyed the cookies. He hadn’t had time for breakfast and he was famished.

  “Ellis is frozen through,” Glenn announced. “He could use a nice hot cup of coffee.”

  “Of course.” She stood up and bustled over to the counter where the coffee pot was. “How are you?” she greeted.

  “Can’t complain.”

  She took down a mug from the cupboard, filled it with coffee and handed it to him. “There’s milk and sugar over there if you need it. And of course, you’ll have some cookies.”

  “Of course,” he smiled.

  He took a sip and almost groaned aloud in pleasure as he felt its warmth cascade through his cold body. He quickly ate two cookies and wondered if he could get away with snatching a third.

  “I’ll go fetch Cammie for you,” Glenn said. After he’d gone, Ellis turned to Maud, who’d returned to peeling her potatoes.

  “There seems to be a bit of a mystery about why I was called out. All Glenn would tell me is that he preferred Cammie to let me know why I’m here.”

  She waved her hand at him. “He’s right. She is the best person to explain herself.”

  Ellis frowned. “Explain herself? What exactly do you mean by that?”

  Maud kept her attention on the potatoes. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. Cammie is a wonderful woman. It’s just that she’s been…” She paused in her peeling, her eyes cast downwards. “Something happened that caused our nephew Jace to bring her all the way out here. I don’t know what it is; neither will tell us. But I gather it was traumatic enough that she needed a change of scenery in which to recover.”

  Ellis didn’t know what to make of that. “Are you saying that you and Glenn were not in agreement that I be called in?”