by Mary Ellis
After twenty minutes of ducking under low branches and tripping over roots, the path opened onto a wide expanse of lawn with flower gardens and fruit trees. French doors opened onto flagstone terraces on the ground floor, while rooms on the second floor had wrought-iron balconies overlooking the gardens. A trellised pergola draped with grapevines covered a long table complete with lace linens and giant candelabras. All in all, Nate had never seen a sight so welcoming.
‘Wow,’ murmured several of his employees.
‘You’re not kidding – wow,’ Nate agreed.
‘Wouldn’t this be the perfect wedding venue?’ Izzy asked to no one in particular.
‘This would be the perfect venue for anything,’ Nicki agreed. ‘Showers, graduations, even a little girl’s birthday party. Couldn’t you just imagine pony rides on the lawn?’
‘Easy, dear wife. New Orleans is a long way from the Atlantic coast.’
Nicki grabbed his hand. ‘Come on, Hunter, stop dragging your feet! Let’s catch up to the others.’
Mr Compton guided them into a three-story reception area with an Italian marble floor and a cut-crystal chandelier overhead. From a closet, well concealed in the paneling, the butler pulled out a wicker basket. ‘Mr Frazier has one non-negotiable rule in this house,’ he intoned. ‘All guests must surrender any weapons upon entering.’ His eyes slowly scanned each member of the Price team. ‘They will be safely stored and returned to you before leaving the house.’
Nate stepped forward. ‘I can assure you those employees carrying weapons are well trained and licensed to carry. There will be no accidental or reckless discharge while we’re here.’
Compton’s expression didn’t waver. ‘Be that as it may, Mr Price, the rule applies to everyone, including members of law enforcement, private investigators, and bodyguards for celebrities. Your only recourse if you can’t comply is to leave the island on the same boat you arrived on.’
Without hesitation, Nate reached under his jacket, pulled the semi-automatic from his shoulder holster and placed it in the basket.
One by one, Michael and Beth did the same. When Compton’s gaze fell on the Galens, Nicki opened her lacy cardigan and slowly turned in a circle. ‘I never carry a weapon when I’m not working, and my husband doesn’t own a gun.’
‘Neither does my wife, Isabelle,’ Nate added.
‘In that case, honored guests, please follow me.’ At a brisk pace, Compton marched down a portrait-lined hallway into a library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Frazier’s collection must contain at least ten thousand books.
‘Did I fall asleep and wake up in Downton Abbey?’ asked Izzy.
‘You’ve been awake the entire time, dear heart,’ murmured Nate, as uniformed maids carried in more trays of canapés, along with more champagne.
‘Ah, a pitcher of water.’ Izzy marched to the sideboard and filled a glass. Beth and Nicki did the same.
‘If I eat another bite, I won’t be able to eat dinner,’ Nicki moaned. ‘But I will have a touch more champagne.’ She then filled three flutes.
‘You’re not kidding.’ Beth gulped some water and picked up a flute. ‘Doesn’t Frazier know people are starving all over the world?’
While the women made humorous assumptions about their host, the men nibbled on canapés and nursed one drink each.
Finally Compton reappeared in the doorway. ‘Again, welcome to Elysian Island. Your rooms are ready: Mr and Mrs Galen, room two-twenty-four.’ He held out a skeleton key. ‘Mr and Mrs Preston, room two-thirty-four.’ He produced a second key for Beth and Michael. ‘And Mr and Mrs Price, room one-eighteen. You may exit that way. Yours is the only suite down that hallway.’ Compton pointed to a narrow door. ‘Now if the Galens and Prestons would follow me, I’ll take you to the main staircase where the maids will direct you to your quarters. We’ll see everyone promptly at eight in the grand dining room.’
‘Excuse me, Mr Compton,’ said Nate. ‘Were you aware that two more guests may arrive tomorrow evening?’
Compton sniffed. ‘I am not your host, Mr Price. Please discuss this with Mr Frazier at dinner.’ With that, Compton turned on his heel and marched the other two couples away.
Nate exchanged a look with Izzy.
‘If there is a grand dining room, is there also a mediocre one?’ Izzy burst into a fit of giggles.
‘I’ll find out, but in the meantime, no more champagne for you tonight.’ Nate took his wife’s hand and led her through the narrow doorway. ‘This house seems to have a maze of hallways.’
‘This is just like a game of Clue.’ Izzy stifled another giggle as he opened the door to their suite. ‘My goodness, Marie Antoinette probably didn’t have accommodations so elegant.’
‘And we both know what happened to that poor girl’s head.’
For a minute they stood admiring the room: four-poster bed, enclosed by filmy curtains; oversized cherry-wood bureaus and armoires; bookcases filled with novels; upholstered chairs grouped around the fireplace, and in the corner a Keurig coffeemaker with every type of coffee and tea known to man. A giant fruit bowl sat on a low table, along with crackers, several cheeses, and another bottle of champagne.
Izzy plucked a grape from the bowl. ‘Mr Frazier certainly doesn’t want us to starve.’
‘Isn’t this a bit over-the-top, no?’ he asked.
‘No, I think the room is beautiful and our host very generous.’ Izzy leaped onto the bed like a child.
Nate crossed the room to the French doors and looked out. The view took in the rose garden and tall loblolly pines in the distance. ‘This might be a nice spot for morning coffee.’ Yet when he tried the door to the patio, it seemed to be bolted from the outside. ‘Cancel my idea for morning coffee. We can’t get out.’
‘Will you please relax?’ Izzy slipped her arm around his waist. ‘Maybe Mr Frazier hasn’t used this guest suite in a while. Security is important, even on private islands.’
‘You’re right. No big deal.’ Nate realized his attitude was less than grateful for the generous gift. ‘I’ll speak to him this evening about unlocking the door.’
‘Good, now let’s get dressed for dinner.’
He peered down. ‘What’s wrong with what I have on? Everything is still clean.’
‘Baggy shorts?’ Izzy whooshed out an exasperated breath. ‘Tonight we meet our host. At least put on chinos and a nice shirt.’ She dragged her suitcase to the closet and unpacked with lightning speed. When someone knocked twenty minutes later, Izzy had already refreshed her makeup and changed into a long sheath dress with very high heels.
With his hair still damp, Nate opened the door to the other four, who swarmed into the room like bees.
‘Look at you, Izzy,’ Beth teased, ‘ready for the camera close-ups. And you clean up pretty nice, boss.’
‘Thanks. Izzy made me wear these,’ Nate said, pointing at his pants. But when he looked at Michael their outfits practically matched, to everyone’s great amusement.
With Hunter in a sport coat and Nicki in a silk dress and heels, the Galens were downright spiffy.
Only Beth had remained casual. ‘Sorry, I didn’t pack any fancy duds,’ she said apologetically. ‘You two definitely got the biggest room and at least your windows open. Ours seemed to be nailed shut.’
Nate cranked out the casement window. ‘Yeah, they open, but we sure can’t get out with this iron filigree. And our patio door is barred from the outside.’
Izzy rolled her eyes. ‘Then why don’t we go to dinner through the hallway door?’
‘I’m thinking in case of fire.’ Nate tried to rattle the ironwork, to no avail.
‘Our windows won’t open either. I certainly hope there’s no fire.’ Nicki looked to her husband for assurance.
Hunter took hold of her hand. ‘According to the website, this mansion has stood for a couple hundred years. I’m sure it will stand for another few nights.’
‘I can’t get a cell signal in here either.’ Nicki extracted her p
hone from a tiny purse.
As the others tried to get a connection with the same result, Nate tried the phone on the bedside table. ‘At least the landlines work. It’s not surprising our cells don’t work, considering the thickness of these stone walls and the distance from the mainland. Do you have phones in your rooms?’ Nate looked from Beth to Nicki, who both nodded affirmatively. ‘Then let’s go down to dinner and not keep Mr Frazier waiting.’
THREE
After one wrong turn after another, Nate and Izzy led the group through a warren of hallways into the three-story foyer.
A grim-faced Compton stood at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Ahh, there you are at last, Mr and Mrs Price. If you would all follow me.’ He turned on his heel and marched them through a huge living room to the dining room. Opening the tall double doors, he announced in a loud voice, ‘Mr and Mrs Nathan Price, Mr and Mrs Hunter Galen, and Mr and Mrs Michael Preston, sir.’ Silently, the butler closed the doors behind Michael and Beth.
It took Nate a moment to spot the small, wizened man standing by the fireplace. The guy could be anywhere from seventy to ninety. When he did, he guided Izzy in that direction with the others in tow. ‘Mr Frazier? Nate Price, sir, and this is my wife, Isabelle.’
‘How do you do, Mr Frazier,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your gracious invitation.’
‘I assure you, madam, the pleasure is mine.’ Frazier clasped Izzy’s hand between his bony fingers.
‘You may call me “Izzy” if you like,’ she said.
The corners of Frazier’s mouth turned down. ‘I wouldn’t like that at all, not when the name Isabelle is so beautiful.’ Dropping Izzy’s hand, he stepped to the next couple in line. ‘Mr and Mrs Galen, I presume?’
‘Correct, sir, Hunter and Nicki.’ Always the gentleman, Hunter shot his cuffs and extended his hand.
After a weak handshake, Frazier turned to Nicki. ‘Is your given name “Nicole,” Mrs Galen?’
‘No, unfortunately, it’s “Nicolette,” which I no longer like since someone said it sounded like the gum to quit smoking.’
Frazier looked confused, but when the others laughed, so did he. ‘Have we met, Hunter? You look so familiar.’
‘I don’t think so, sir. I would not have forgotten.’
Frazier stared at him a tad longer than polite behavior permitted before turning his attention to the last couple. ‘And Mr and Mrs Preston, Michael and—’
‘Beth,’ she said, not giving him a chance to finish. ‘Just Beth, not short for anything.’
Frazier let his gaze travel from the top of Beth’s head down to her loafers, frowning at the plaid shirt and jeans in between.
‘Sorry, sir, I didn’t get the memo regarding the dress code,’ she said with a broad grin.
‘No worries, Mrs Preston,’ he murmured while shaking Michael’s hand. ‘After all, this is your vacation, is it not?’ Before she could respond, Frazier strode to the head of the table. ‘Standing by the window is my assistant and head of security, Jonah Creery. He will be dining with us tonight.’
Creery bowed and then walked to the foot of the table.
‘Shall we take our seats?’ murmured Frazier. ‘Isabelle, I’d like you and Nicki on my left and right. I haven’t dined with women so beautiful since my late wife passed on.’
As the rest decided on where to sit, Isabelle asked quietly, ‘Did your wife pass recently? I hope this visit isn’t intruding on your mourning.’
‘No, no, it’s been quite some time, yet on certain days the wound still feels so fresh. Unfortunately, this is one of those days.’
Nicki patted the arm of their host’s brocade dinner jacket. ‘You have our sincere condolences.’
‘Thank you, my dear.’
Frazier pushed a button on the arm of his chair and soon the double doors swung open. In strode Compton, followed by two maids carrying large trays of food. Compton poured wine, both red and white, at each place setting, while the maids filled water goblets and set serving bowls on the table. Then they stood at attention, waiting for the signal to serve the first course.
‘I hope you’ll forgive the informality of the dinner. This time of year, I’m operating with just a skeleton crew of staff.’
‘Don’t worry about not being fancy enough for us,’ said Nate. ‘If the food tastes as good as it smells, we’re in for a treat.’
‘This was my wife’s favorite menu for a dinner party. She called it Tuscan land and sea. Let’s have a toast and we’ll start on fish and salad.’ Frazier stood and lifted his glass of white wine, then waited for the others to do the same. ‘To a memorable retreat for the Price team of investigators, and may all questions be answered,’ he said once everyone did the same.
There was a bevy of replies before everyone sipped and sat down. ‘Hear, hear,’ chimed Michael, as a maid stopped next to his chair with a platter of smoked salmon and grilled flounder. Once they finished serving the fish, they exited the room while guests passed around bowls of cold salads. Compton watched from the sideboard, ready to refill wine or water glasses as necessary. Conversation consisted mainly of praise for a particular dish, while Price employees generally ate too fast and too much, not considering the other courses yet to come.
Izzy savored another bite of flounder and leaned toward Nate. ‘What a shame that Eric and Kate missed the opening night dinner, especially since the recipes honor Tuscany, the land of Eric’s ancestors.’
Nate nodded in agreement. Then he noticed for the first time that the table had been set for eight, not ten. While Mr Frazier chatted with Nicki, Nate whispered his observation into Izzy’s ear.
She clucked her tongue. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. The boat captain probably radioed ahead that Eric and Kate missed the proverbial boat. Mr Frazier takes pride in throwing a proper dinner party.’
‘Unlike you and me who set out a cooler of Cokes and call for pizza delivery?’ Nate wiggled his eyebrows at her.
His common-sense wife smiled and refocused on her food.
Nate took another sip of delicious wine but waved off any attempt to refill his glass. He and Izzy seldom indulged in spirits. Thus, when they did, the effect was usually sudden and dramatic.
Soon Compton ushered in the maids carrying platters of veal cutlets and chicken in a white sauce. Cold salads were removed from the table, replaced by rosemary potatoes, creamed spinach, and an herbed rotini. Again Compton refilled glasses, in some cases while guests weren’t looking. Beth and Nicki had to be on their third glasses of wine, not counting any consumed before reaching the dining room. Although neither Michael nor Hunter seemed to be concerned, Hunter was still nursing his first glass of white wine and had refused to switch to red. At least Nate would have one sober companion to solve Frazier’s mystery game.
As though the man sensed his apprehension, Hunter cleared his throat, an action which usually commanded the floor. ‘I haven’t tasted food this delicious in quite some time, Mr Frazier, and we are all grateful.’
‘What are you trying to say?’ Nicki asked with the smallest of slurs. ‘I’ve been doing all the cooking at home lately.’ Even half-in-her-cups, Nicki still managed to look adorable.
Hunter picked up her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. ‘Don’t be offended, my love. That’s not what I meant at all. I’m simply eager for Mr Frazier to introduce the players in tonight’s mystery before all that … fresh sea air catches up with us.’ He pecked Nicki on the cheek and turned his attention to Frazier.
Nate focused on their host too, thinking that if he lived to be a hundred, he would never be as smooth as Hunter.
Frazier, who’d picked at his food all evening, set his knife and fork on the edge of his plate. ‘I’d planned to introduce the players over dessert and brandy … or coffee for those who prefer.’
‘Dessert?’ Beth yelped. ‘I definitely should have saved room. I’m stuffed to the gills.’
Frazier angled a short but pointed glare in Beth’s direction. ‘Yes, Mrs Preston, dessert usually f
ollows a meal, but feel free to abstain if that be your desire.’ He turned to Nate. ‘I’m surprised, Mr Price. Our mutual friend, Mrs Baer, described you as the most gracious of gentlemen with a professional team of investigators. Yet this dinner feels like I’m hosting a sorority or fraternity party.’
The room instantly grew quiet.
Beth flushed to a bright shade of pink. ‘I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to—’
But Nate cut her off. ‘With all due respect, Mr Frazier, you have practically poured alcohol down our throats since your yacht arrived on St Simons. That might not have been wise with a group of predominantly non-drinkers, if you wished to have docile guests.’
All eyes, which had been on Nate, fixed on Frazier. Almost imperceptibly, Frazier’s lip twitched while a knotted cord in his neck appeared. Then, without warning, their host burst into hysterics. ‘Relax, Nate. I was joking. Just trying to lighten the mood for the mystery you’ll be solving this coming week.’
There was a smattering of laughter around the table, but Nate had to force his teeth to unclench. ‘I think now would be a good time to explain how this mystery game works.’
‘Of course.’ Frazier pushed the button on his chair a second time. ‘I’ll have the maids bring in coffee and dessert and, as soon as everyone is served, I’ll introduce the five potential clues.’
‘Like the candlestick, rope and wrench in a game of Clue?’ asked Izzy.
‘Exactly, but one of these was used in a very real crime, a cold case from eight years ago.’ Frazier’s dark eyes sparkled with animation. ‘Or perhaps all were used to commit the crime, sort of like in Murder on the Orient Express. It is up to you, my team of ace detectives, to decide.’
‘Oh, this is going to be great fun.’ Nicki rubbed her palms together.
Frazier pushed himself to his feet. ‘I couldn’t agree more, Mrs Galen. Now, if you’ll relax for a moment, we’ll return shortly.’
The maids followed their host and Mr Creery from the room. Once alone, everyone spoke in hushed tones.
‘Is this guy for real?’ muttered Michael.