by Mary Ellis
Izzy nudged Nate under the table, remembering their own boat ride.
‘What did Mr Frazier say you had to do for the one million dollars?’ Nate asked.
Sanborn continued to point his finger. ‘He said some PIs were going to ask me some questions and that I had to tell the truth. So far he’s kept me locked up with only stale sandwiches to eat and water to drink. Until today, when he let me out knowing there’s no way off this hunk of jungle.’
Frazier took a slice of roast from the platter. ‘You ate what you would have eaten in jail. After all, obstruction of justice is a serious crime.’
‘I didn’t obstruct nothing.’ Sanborn slurred the words. ‘I did my job, better than lots of ’em on the Atlanta force.’ Suddenly the detective lurched forward and stabbed two pieces of beef from the platter with his fork. After he gobbled the meat almost without chewing, Izzy passed him the bowls of glazed carrots, asparagus, and sweet potato casserole.
‘Could we continue while you eat?’ Nate tapped his knife on his glass to get Sanborn’s attention. ‘Why did you state in your report that thieves entered through an unlocked door or window?’
‘Because there were no signs of forced entry. There had been plenty of break-ins in the neighborhood – dopers looking for stuff they could fence to feed their habit. How would punks like the Fallon brothers know the security code to Frazier’s big fancy house?’ Sanborn glared at him as he scooped more carrots.
‘But when you initially assessed the crime scene, you had no idea who the fingerprints would match up to,’ Nate reminded the detective. ‘Why didn’t the victim’s statement appear in your report?’
Sanborn stopped gobbling food long enough to glare around the table. ‘Yeah, but take a good look at the victim. He’s an old man. Plus he was acting all crazy-like, so I thought he had Alzheimer’s or maybe a concussion from the crack on his head.’
‘Maybe the fact his wife was dead had something to do with his behavior,’ Izzy suggested.
‘Your personal assumptions shouldn’t matter in a police investigation,’ Nate said through gritted teeth. ‘You had an obligation to take an accurate statement and let any extenuating circumstances like a medical condition come out at trial.’
Sanborn pointed his fork at Nate. ‘Listen to you talk, Mr PI to the rich-and-famous. You have no idea what it’s like to work robbery-homicide in Atlanta.’
Beth responded before Nate had a chance. ‘I worked robbery-homicide for the Natchez PD, so I know exactly how difficult the job can be. But you still take down everything the victim says at a crime scene. So don’t make excuses for yourself.’
When Sanborn looked confused, Nate clarified. ‘Mr Frazier told you he overheard the thieves mention getting paid by someone else.’
Sanborn stared at Frazier with his mouth full of food. ‘Look, you were bleeding from a head wound when I arrived on the scene. I told you to tell all that to the officer who would interview you at the hospital.’ Sanborn shifted his focus back to Nate. ‘I didn’t know if he was dying of a brain bleed or not. The next day the cop made an audio recording of Frazier’s statement. It should have been in the case file.’
‘Well, there was no audio recording in the file,’ Nate said.
‘I thought the next day at the hospital would be a better time to give your statement!’ Spittle flew from Sanborn’s mouth as he shouted.
‘Why?’ Frazier demanded. ‘Because you were too inebriated that night to take down a coherent statement?’ Frazier pushed away the bowl Izzy passed him. ‘You were a worthless drunk then and still are now. Just look at you!’ Frazier was shaking with rage as he stood up. ‘I won’t dine in that man’s company. But please, Mr Price, your team can ask him anything they wish.’
‘One more question before you go, sir.’ Beth rose to her feet. ‘Do you have any idea who paid the Fallon brothers to invade your home?’
‘If I knew, I would have taken care of them long ago. But Sanborn or one of the other suspects knows who they are. And that’s why you’re here.’ Frazier leaned heavily on the table. ‘Let me make this very clear – there’s no way off this island, no way to communicate with the mainland, and none of my staff will help you, so the faster you solve my mystery the faster you can resume your lives.’ Frazier stormed from the room with Jonah Creery at his heels. The guards, however, held their places by the wall.
‘That guy is crazy!’ Sanborn muttered the moment the door closed. ‘Why doesn’t somebody ask Reuben Fallon who paid them? He’s here on the island someplace because I saw him last night when Frazier trotted us out for you PIs.’ Sanborn tried to stab more beef roast, but Michael pulled the platter beyond his reach.
‘You’ve had enough meat. Eat your vegetables if you’re still hungry.’ Michael took one slice and handed the platter to his wife.
Beth took one slice and passed the platter on. ‘We would love to ask Reuben. We set out today with the intention of questioning him, but unfortunately we found him dead instead. What were you doing this afternoon?’
Sanborn choked on his carrots. ‘Trying to find my way back to the dock. I thought the boat that brought me here might still be there.’
‘But no such luck?’ Hunter took a small portion of food, then dished some onto Nicki’s plate since she refused every bowl passed to her. ‘Who was on the boat dock with you, trying to flag down a fisherman?’
Sanborn blinked at Hunter. ‘It was that lawyer, the guy who got assigned to be Fallon’s public defender. I never saw Fallon on my way to the dock and I had no reason to kill him.’ Sanborn scanned the table with his bloodshot eyes. ‘OK, I admit to being drunk the night Mrs Frazier died. I’d been home from work for hours and didn’t think I’d get called out again. I don’t remember what Frazier told me that night and I don’t know anything about someone paying the Fallons for a hit. Like I wrote down in my report, I thought the robbery had been a random break-in.’
SIX
St Simons Island, Monday a.m.
Kate awoke Monday morning as the first rays of dawn filtered through the living-room curtains. ‘Ouch,’ she moaned. ‘What happened to my back and neck?’
Eric stretched his arms over his head, equally stiff. ‘And what happened to our plans for a night of romance?’
Kate shot to her feet. ‘I forgot to call Nate again. Let’s try him now.’ But before pressing the redial button, she noticed a blinking icon. ‘There’s a message from Nate!’ She tapped on the message and pressed the speaker button:
‘I hope you’re enjoying my friend’s condo.’ The upbeat voice of her boss filled the room. ‘Don’t worry – we’ll all come back to clean the place before leaving St Simons. In the meantime, the boat to take you to Elysian Island will be at the village fishing pier at noon on Monday. The ride is only thirty minutes. We’ll catch you up on anything you’ve missed when you get here.’
Eric glanced at his watch. ‘See, what did I tell you? Nothing to worry about. We have plenty of time.’ He leaned in for a kiss.
‘Get serious, Manfredi! No kisses until I brush my teeth. Plus we both need showers. Then we’ll have just enough time to grab breakfast somewhere before heading to the dock. Unfortunately, your niece’s delightful idea will have to wait for the next island.’ Kate headed to the kitchen to make coffee, while Eric muttered about falling asleep at the worst possible time.
The village of St Simons could be described as the dictionary definition of charming. It had one main thoroughfare leading straight to the water’s edge, lined with everything a resident or tourist needed – restaurants, bars, boutiques, salons, and places to rent anything from a sailboat to a beach umbrella. On streets shaded by giant live oaks were homes ranging in size from quaint cottages to classic southern-style mansions, along with luxury condo and apartment units. The village was simple and straightforward, a hard place to get lost even for someone navigationally challenged like Kate Weller.
An hour later she and Eric were eating pancakes and country ham in a local eatery with
in walking distance of the pier. ‘What do you know about this Elysian Island? I know you Googled it while I was in the shower.’
Eric sipped his coffee. ‘Not much information is available. Only that the island is privately owned – boats are forbidden to dock without express, written permission by the owner. The place is also a protected habitat for rare plants and a rest stop for migratory birds and butterflies. According to Google, it once had a thriving settlement in colonial days, but I doubt any of that is left. According to Google maps, there’s one large mansion, what looks like a barn, and a few small outbuildings.’
‘I can picture hiking trails and a long gorgeous beach. Do you think there’ll be water sports?’ Kate swabbed her last bite of pancake with maple syrup.
‘If there are, they’re only for the invited guests.’
She dabbed her lips. ‘And the Price team got an invitation. Ain’t that cool?’
Eric didn’t look so sure. ‘I don’t think there’ll be any restaurants or shops.’
Kate thought for a moment. ‘We can find bars and T-shirt shops everywhere. This island sounds unique. We’ll probably have a couple days of employee bonding and then come back here.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Let’s pay the check and head to the dock. We’re not missing the boat this time around.’
Eric parked the car in a well-lit public lot and hefted their bags from the trunk. ‘At least we can be reasonably sure the car will still be here when we get back. I wonder how well Nate knows the owner of this island.’
‘I have no idea. And why are you so worried?’ Kate tugged her duffle from his grip and hefted it to her shoulder.
‘Nothing, but this change in plans came up spur of the moment.’ Eric dodged a pair of teenagers on skateboards.
‘Maybe the owner had a cancellation and Nate jumped at the opportunity.’ Kate hooked her arm through his elbow as they started down the long pier. ‘Relax. All our questions will soon be answered.’
Yet the appointed meeting time, noon, according to the text, came and went with no sign of a private yacht from Elysian. Kate and Eric sat on a wooden bench for almost an hour, watching children throw bread to the ducks and fish. She had tried calling and texting Nate, Beth, and Michael with no luck. Just when they were ready to give up, Kate’s phone dinged with an incoming text message. ‘Finally,’ she declared, clicking on the message.
‘Hello, Miss Weller and Mr Manfredi,’ she read aloud. ‘I am Captain Mike Burke, in the employ of Mr Julian Frazier of Elysian Island. I’ve been instructed by Nate Price to arrange your transportation here. Unfortunately, today’s high tide and strong currents make a safe crossing from St Simons impossible. Thus we must postpone your joining the company retreat until tomorrow – same time and same location for pickup. We’ll hope for better sea conditions. Respectfully yours, Captain Burke.’
Eric leaned over her shoulder. ‘Wow, I’ve never heard a text sound like a letter written longhand with a fountain pen.’
‘Me neither, but what do you make of this? The ocean doesn’t look very choppy to me.’ Kate pointed at the gentle waves lapping at the posts.
Eric focused his gaze out to sea. ‘I agree, but that means nothing in terms of currents at high tide. Haven’t you heard about the strong currents surrounding Alcatraz? Lots of prisoners drowned while trying to escape.’
‘No, I haven’t. But I don’t like not being able to join the group.’
‘And we will, as soon as Captain Mike says it’s safe to cross. In the meantime, how ’bout we take in the sights of St Simons? This island looks pretty cool.’ Eric lifted her chin with one finger. ‘By the way, I recently brushed and even flossed my teeth.’
Kate planted a kiss on his lips. ‘Thank you for that. And thanks for putting up with my worrying.’ She kissed him a second time.
‘I see a lighthouse over your shoulder. Why don’t we check it out? If it’s open, I’ll race you to the top.’
‘It’s deal, Manfredi. The loser cooks dinner tonight.’
If there ever was an incentive for Eric not to do his best, this was it. The only thing she knew how to cook was ramen noodles and canned soup.
When Nate and Izzy arrived at breakfast Monday morning, Hunter and Nicki and Michael and Beth were already seated at the table, coffee cups in hand. Mr Frazier and Jonah Creery were standing by the coffee urn. ‘I don’t see Mr Sanborn,’ Nate said upon joining their host. ‘Won’t he be coming to breakfast?’ Nate filled his cup to the brim.
‘I’m afraid not,’ Frazier replied without an ounce of the cordiality displayed on previous mornings. ‘Sanborn is sleeping off a nasty hangover, so I doubt he’ll have much taste for food.’ Frazier walked to the head of the table. ‘If everyone has their beverage, I’ll signal the butler to bring in the food. You’ll have to serve yourselves today. I told the maids to remain in their quarters until the boat takes them back to the mainland. They will be paid, of course, but I can’t risk their safety with a killer loose on this island or perhaps inside this house right now.’
Hunter snorted with contempt. ‘Yet you’re more than willing to subject Isabelle, Beth and Nicki to danger without a second thought.’
Frazier’s dark eyes could have bored a hole through him. ‘Your wife, along with Beth, Michael and Nate are trained investigators. The Price agency was touted as the best in the business, according to my friend, Mrs Baer. And don’t forget, these aren’t the parameters I created for my game. No one was supposed to die. I simply want to know who paid the Fallons to attack us.’
Hunter sneered at their host. ‘That’s getting hard to believe, since you’re the one pulling all the strings. I want to talk to my lawyer, Kurt Ensley.’
‘I don’t care what you believe, Mr Galen, or what you want.’ Frazier sneered back with equal venom. ‘You’re a long way from Orleans Parish, so I warn you to keep a civil tongue in your head.’
‘What exactly does that mean?’
‘You can’t use old family money or your connections to buy your way out of trouble.’
Nicki silenced Hunter’s retort with her hand to his lips. ‘Bickering won’t get us anywhere. What are your plans for the teams today, sir?’ Her drawl was sweeter than honey.
Frazier’s expression softened. ‘Thank you, Nicki, for the voice of reason. After breakfast, team one – you, Nate, and Michael – will search the island for the suspects to interview, while team two – Isabelle, Beth, and Hunter – will spend time in the library studying a new clue.’
‘Are you releasing the suspects to roam the island again?’ Nate asked.
‘Yes, in fact I’m giving them a head start before your team sets out.’
‘Wouldn’t it be easier if we interviewed the suspects one at a time right here?’ Michael flourished his hand around the room.
‘I have no desire to make it easy for you, Mr Preston. This is my game and you’ll play by my rules. Prove that you’re worth the money I’ve spent to wine and dine you.’
Nate spotted a nervous tic in Frazier’s cheek he hadn’t noticed before. It would do them no good to inflame their host. This guy might go off the deep end.
They heard a knock; Compton opened the door and an older woman with a teenaged boy carried in trays of food.
‘Ah, here’s your breakfast,’ Frazier said. ‘Some of you haven’t met my cook yet. This is Mrs Eliza Norville and her son, Paul. Just leave the trays on the hutch, Mrs Norville. My guests will help themselves.’
Mrs Norville bobbed her head at the guests and followed the instructions. But on her way, she shot a loathsome glare at Nicki.
Was everyone in this household bat-crazy? ‘Aren’t you dining with us, sir?’ Nate asked Frazier.
‘No, but I’ll see you at dinner. When you all finish breakfast, team one will be escorted to their rooms to get outerwear, while team two will be taken to the library. I wish you all an enlightening morning and afternoon.’
Once the door closed behind Frazier, Nate’s wife and employees were left alone, except for
the two armed guards at the door.
‘I don’t think the cook likes me,’ murmured Nicki. ‘I shouldn’t have called her a name when she locked me in the bathroom.’
‘And I don’t like you roaming the island with a killer loose,’ said Hunter.
‘Nate and I will take good care of her,’ said Michael, on his way to the hutch with his plate.
Hunter slid back his chair. ‘With what – a big stick or maybe a butter knife? Frazier’s henchmen have assault weapons.’
Nicki stood too. ‘And you getting under Mr Frazier’s skin isn’t helping, dear husband. Like our host pointed out, I’m a trained PI, so let’s just play along for now.’ Nicki spooned some sticky oatmeal onto her plate along with some sliced fruit.
‘Don’t eat anything cooked by Mrs Norville.’ Hunter tried to pull the bowl away from her.
Nicki refused to relinquish her grip. ‘Eat or don’t eat, Hunter. But I’m not stomping across this island on an empty stomach.’
And so went breakfast for the Price team: the Galens argued; Michael Preston attempted to engage the guards in conversation; Beth studied the locks on the windows, and Izzy appeared to be praying while picking at her food.
And him? Nate needed to find the closet where their guns were stored. Someone other than the bad guys should have a weapon. Unfortunately, on the way to his room or through the maze of hallways to the back door, the guards gave him no opportunity to press on any panels in the foyer. When his fellow team members joined him outdoors fifteen minutes later, Nate wasn’t in a particularly good mood.
‘I looked for my cell phone,’ said Nicki. ‘I thought it might work on the other side of the island, but it’s gone.’
Michael nodded. ‘Mine’s gone too. I thought of the same thing.’
‘Mine also disappeared, along with my laptop. Our best hope is to intercept Kate and Eric when they step off the Slippery Eel today, before Compton has a chance to strip them of their weapons and phones,’ said Nate.