An Equal Measure of Murder

by B. T. Lord

  “When did you find this?” he asked.

  “This morning at about ten am. As I said, when I pulled the table away, I saw the indent in the dirt floor.”

  “You never noticed the indent before?”

  John shook his head. “Never had any reason to get beneath the table. As soon as I saw what this was, I called you.”

  Rick went over to the hole in the floor and peered into it. “You didn’t find anything else?”

  “As soon as I found this, I stopped digging.”

  “Good. I’m going to need to get the Forensics team out here. You’ve owned this house how long?”

  “Five years now.”

  “Do you know who owned it before you?”

  “It was in foreclosure when we bought it. The bank will probably have all that information.”

  “Have you noticed anyone near the shed?”

  John shook his head. “They’d have to jump the fence to get inside. And as you can hear, Buster is an excellent watchdog. If anyone tried to get in our yard, he’d definitely let us know.”

  Rick carefully replaced the wrappings and shut the box. “Are you the only one who’s handled this?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t even told Lori yet.”

  “I need you to keep everyone out of the shed, including yourself. That will make the Forensics team’s job easier.” He stood up with the box in his hands. “Your yard is going to be filled with men and women in white coveralls and masks over their faces. If I were you, I’d tell Lori what’s going on. The two of you may want to take the boys on an adventure until the team is done. I’ll give you a call as soon as they pack up.”

  “You think somebody murdered a baby on my property?”

  Rick turned and looked at him. “What makes you ask that?”

  “There’s a bloody hatchet wrapped up in a baby blanket. What else am I supposed to think?”

  Rick automatically fell back on Cammie’s favorite response to questions they weren’t ready to answer. “The investigation has only just begun. As soon as I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

  It was yet another restless night tossing and turning in bed, watching the illuminated numbers on the clock crawl towards the hour. It was almost four in the morning before Violet finally fell asleep. When she stumbled out of bed a few hours later, her eyes felt gritty and her body heavy with exhaustion. She willed herself into the bathroom where she took a cool shower in a desperate attempt to wake herself up.

  The tepid water managed to revive her. As she stepped out of the shower, she glanced at herself in the mirror and caught her breath in dismay. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin sallow and she looked as though she’d aged twenty years.

  One more week. Just one more week. I owe it to Edward.

  It became a mantra that she held onto for dear life.

  After throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, she reached for her blow dryer to dry her damp hair when she heard the sounds of raised voices coming from downstairs.

  As the oldest, Teddy had always been bossy, but lately it seemed that no matter what he said, Andrew erupted in rage. Their arguments were escalating in hateful, violent words. She knew what was behind it and it broke her heart to realize she could no longer deny the truth.

  Her baby was an alcoholic.

  Andrew was spending every evening down at Fiske’s Pub, returning late at night reeking of booze. Recently, she’d been horrified to smell the liquor on him at the breakfast table.

  It’s this damned house. It’s killing him.

  She’d thought many times of asking him to leave. But she couldn’t. Her request would be misinterpreted and blown completely out of proportion. Although Violet and Edward never played favorites with their children, Andrew had somehow convinced himself that Teddy was the golden child. The drinking only exacerbated these feelings.

  If you only knew the truth, Andrew.

  But she couldn’t tell him. She wouldn’t tell him.

  Violet stared down at the blow dryer in her hand. Tears stung her eyes as she felt a wave of helplessness wash over her.

  Suddenly, she heard the sounds of glass breaking. With a cry, she jumped to her feet and hurried downstairs.

  Chaos reigned in the kitchen. Teddy stood at the sink with his hand under the running water while Andrew stood near the refrigerator. Their faces were red with rage as they continued to shout at each other.

  “I’m calling the police!” Teddy shouted. “You assaulted me. You’re insane!”

  “Go on, call them. They’ll see who the insane one is here.”

  Violet felt her stomach lurch as she stared at the blood smeared all over the island.

  “Oh my God,” she cried.

  “Your son tried to kill me,” Teddy bellowed. He held up his bleeding hand for her to see. She ran to him and took his hand in hers. The palm was badly cut, the blood streaming down his wrist and onto the shattered pieces of a glass that lay on the bottom of the sink.

  “No, you asshole. You tried to hurt yourself.”

  “What happened?” Violet asked, fighting desperately not to give into hysterics. Before Teddy could respond, Andrew interjected. “The moron was once more telling me what I had to do today. When I told him to stuff it, he threw a glass at me. I threw one back. He tried to catch it and it shattered.”

  “Andrew, call the doctor,” she ordered. “Teddy is going to need stitches.”

  “Screw that. I hope he bleeds to death.”

  “CALL THE DOCTOR!” She screamed.

  Her outburst brought Andrew up. He glared at his brother before reluctantly leaving the room to do as she asked.

  “He’s drunk again,” Teddy said once Andrew was gone. “He’s spent every night since we got here at Fiske’s Pub getting shitfaced. Now, it’s not even 10 am and he’s already plastered.” Violet nodded, but said nothing. Instead, she tried her best to staunch the bleeding. “I can’t take him anymore. I’m sorry Mom, but I need to leave. I’m taking the ferry back this afternoon.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, “Teddy, please—”

  “I know I promised to help, but it’s become impossible.” He shook his head mournfully. “I don’t know what’s going on. Andrew is worse than I’ve ever seen him. I look at him and he goes off the deep end.” He met her eye. “It’s our fault, Mom. We’ve both enabled him for too long. I won’t do it anymore. That’s only to cause more arguments until something happens that we’re all going to regret. I need to get out of here before that happens.”

  “I know you’ve been under a great deal of stress lately—” she whispered.

  Teddy sighed. “I thought I could make things better by coming here with you and Andrew, but it seems my presence has only made it worse. Hopefully when I leave, he’ll calm down enough to help you finish what you came here to do.” He glanced at her. “If you can’t drive me down to the ferry, maybe I can get Splash…”

  “I’ll do it.” She slowly bought his injured hand up to her lips and gently kissed it. Just as she’d done so many times when he was a child. One kiss on his injury and his pain would all go away. If only she could turn back the clock and make it so again.

  But it was impossible.

  “I’m so sorry for everything,” she choked past the tears.

  There was no response and she began to cry harder.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Redemption Island

  Cammie stood next to Ellis in the cabin of the Boston Whaler as they slowly chugged along. They’d driven around the perimeter of the three main islands and found nothing. They were now on their way to Redemption Island.

  With the sun sparkling on the surface of the water, and the spray dancing in the air as Ellis expertly cut through the swells, she wanted to forget everything and simply enjoy the moment. Being out on the ocean should have been an exhilarating experience, even if they were supposed to be looking for a corpse. However, the feeling of excitement was marred by the confrontation she’d had with Jace ju
st before leaving the hotel.

  “It’s too soon, Cam,” he remonstrated. “You came here to rest, not to get involved in another murder.”

  “It’s not my fault I saw what I saw,” she shot back in anger. Then realizing that her irritation was playing into his concern, she softened her tone. “This isn’t my jurisdiction. This is Deputy Martin’s case.”

  “Then why are you going out on the boat with him?”

  She met his eye. “Because I’m sure he’d like to prove to Maud and Glenn as much as I’d like to that I’m not crazy.” He had no comeback for that. But she could see he was angry. In an effort to diffuse the situation, she reached up and kissed him. “Jace, think about it. The guy used to be part of a team. He’s accustomed to working with others. Out here he’s alone. I’m sure he’s just looking to confer with another law enforcement officer. Bounce ideas back and forth the way I do with Rick and Emmy. Besides, the sea air will do me good.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she swiftly cut him off. “Don’t smother me, Jace. Please. It’s just a boat ride. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  She didn’t want to admit that she was already feeling a bit stir crazy. They’d only been on Eagla a week, but there were only so many times she could go walking on the beach. She was starting to get on a first name basis with every grain of sand and every rock and seashell. The invitation by Martin to help look for the body was a godsend. Whether she was emotionally ready for it, only time would tell.

  But she’d never know until she tried.

  With her feet planted apart to absorb the rocking motion of the boat, Cammie deliberately pushed all that unpleasantness aside. She was ready to concede that perhaps Jace did have a right to be concerned about her. She hadn’t been Little Miss Sunshine for the past few weeks. But at that moment, with the blue ocean surrounding them, and the roar of the boat speeding through the water, she was beginning to catch a glimpse of her old self. The darkness that had enveloped her seemed a million miles away. The hope that she’d turned a corner showed on her face.

  She turned to Ellis and caught him watching her. She inwardly smiled when he abruptly ducked his head and turned his attention back out the windshield of the cabin

  With his focus diverted, she took a moment to study him. He stood a little over six feet and looked to be in his early forties. His ramrod straight carriage spoke of a military background. His black hair was streaked with white and his grey eyes dancing back and forth across the ocean were sharp and intelligent. She took note of a slight scar over his left cheek. He was soft spoken, but she didn’t doubt he could be formidable when he needed to be. Instinct told her he was a loner. Although he’d been pleasant so far, there was a remoteness about him, a sense that he kept people at arm’s length. A man filled with secrets he wanted no one to discover.

  She wondered again why such a man would leave a career with NCIS to take a position as the only law enforcement officer on a group of remote, isolated islands.

  It was time to find out.

  “How did you ever end up out here?” Cammie asked as nonchalantly as she could.

  Ellis shrugged. “I was ready for a quieter life.”

  She laughed. “You can’t get any quieter than this. How does it all work anyway? Do you report to someone, or are you the head honcho? Are there other deputies? It can’t be easy patrolling four islands by yourself.”

  He glanced at her. “You thinking of going after my job?”

  She shook her head. “I’m happy fighting off killer chipmunks and bad-tempered moose in Twin Ponds.”

  “Where exactly is Twin Ponds anyway?”

  “It’s smack dab in the middle of western Maine’s wilderness.”

  “You must be part polar bear to survive those winters.”

  “Pretty much. But there’s something about the virgin forests and the people who have chosen to make their home there that make me realize there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Maybe you’ll come to feel that way about the Coffins someday.”

  He didn’t respond. Instead, he said, “In answer to your question, I report to the Chief of Police in Portland. They used to have an officer come over from the mainland whenever there was trouble, but with a two hour ride each way, the locals decided to hire an onsite officer.”

  “That’s got to be tough. Clarke County is the smallest county in Maine, but I still have a full- time deputy and three part-timers.”

  Ellis smiled. “It’s actually not that bad. For centuries the islanders took care of policing themselves. They still do to an extent. They know everyone, and they keep an eye on each other.”

  “What changed?”

  “The sudden influx of tourists. It started about ten years ago when a magazine wrote an article praising the beauty of the islands. It put the Coffins on the map, so to speak. Before you knew it, it became a popular travel destination. Now you’ve got strangers showing up. In the summer the population triples. With more people came more incidents. The locals quickly realized they needed professional help in policing their home. According to the group who pushed to hire an officer, they didn’t want a repeat of what happened back in the 60’s.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was a rash of disappearances dating from the late 50’s up until 1970. They were mainly teenagers of both sexes who vanished from the three main islands. Many chose to believe they left for the mainland in search of a better life. But there were others who thought otherwise. It was the latter group, many of whom are still alive, that thought it was wiser to head off any trouble than, as one of them told me, shut the barn door after the horse has escaped.”

  “Have there been any disappearances since 1970?”

  “None that couldn’t be explained. But the council formed to look at the proposal of hiring a police officer didn’t want to take any chances. Especially since many of the locals now depend on tourist dollars to get them through the winter. Kids disappearing isn’t good for business.”

  “Makes sense,” she agreed. “You handle the boat very well. Did you learn how to do that while you were with NCIS?”

  “Yes. I served at the Northeast Field Office in Newport, Rhode Island. I kept a small boat there.”

  “Newport isn’t too shabby.” She laughed. “Did a ghost from one of the Newport Mansions chase you out of town?”

  He turned and gave her a direct look. “I had a case that didn’t end well.” Cammie’s laugh withered as she felt her face burn with embarrassment. “We’re lucky it’s a calm sea today,” he continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “If Davy Jones’ locker, or Moby Dick didn’t claim your body, we should be able to see it.”

  Cammie turned her attention back out the window. All she knew about NCIS was that they were involved in several facets of law enforcement, including cyber intelligence, counter terrorism and a host of other valuable services. Which branch had he been part of? What kind of case would make him turn his back on his career and squirrel himself away in the middle of the Atlantic? Although on the surface, it appeared they’d been through similar experiences, there was a huge difference. She knew she’d eventually return to Twin Ponds and take up her old life. Ellis on the other hand, had completely changed his. What happened to make him take such a drastic step?

  There was no point in speculating because it was pretty obvious he was never going to tell her. The door he guarded to his privacy had been slammed shut in her face and she saw he was determined to keep it that way.

  She’d behave herself and stop probing. For now, anyway.

  “Do you know how the Coffins got their name?” she asked in an effort to disperse the lingering feelings of discomfort her questions had brought up.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. When I took the job, I thought it wise to educate myself on the place I was going to be living and working in. Therefore, Sheriff Farnsworth, here is your history lesson for the day. The islands were first settled in the late 17th century by a group of Gaelic speaking Irish settlers. Each island kept to itself
, and there was no name yet to link them all together. That changed in 1745 when a ship was hurled onto the rocks off Neddy Point Island during a furious nor’easter. As it broke apart, its cargo was swept out to sea. It wasn’t until days after the storm that it began to float ashore onto the different islands.”

  “What was this cargo?” Cammie asked, feeling as though she were sitting around a campfire listening to ghost stories.

  Ellis paused dramatically. Then he whispered, “They were all coffins.”

  “Okay, that’s pretty creepy.”

  “What made it even creepier was that no one could understand why a ship traveling from England would need to bring coffins into the colonies in the first place. North America’s vast forests provided more than enough wood for coffins that were carved as needed and were rudimentary at best. Since the ship and all its records were lost, they couldn’t discover who had ordered the coffins. Or why. It was then that the story grew darker.”

  “As if it’s not dark already?”

  Ellis chuckled. “It was discovered that not all the coffins were empty.”

  “If you tell me Dracula was in one of those coffins, I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the day.”

  He laughed. “No, there was no Dracula. But there were a handful of bodies. In fact, it’s because of those bodies that Paradise Cove got its name.”

  “How?”

  “Many of the bodies landed on the beach where the harbor now stands. At the sight of all those corpses washing ashore, someone with a macabre sense of humor remarked that the poor souls had reached a different sort of paradise than they could have ever imagined. Somehow the name stuck. The islands became the Coffin Islands and the beach became known as Paradise Cove.” Cammie gave him a dubious look. “I’m not making this stuff up. You can look it up for yourself. Here’s another tidbit you might find interesting. All the history books I read say that the islands are cursed.”

  “Cursed?” she questioned.

  “Yes. Do you know what the word Eagla means?”