by Mary Ellis
Dotson’s expression turned suspicious. ‘Why are you asking me?’
Kate shrugged. ‘Because we’ve already asked every boat owner we saw in the causeway marina. Everyone said no.’
The corners of Dotson’s mouth turned up. ‘You’re down to your last choice?’
‘At least for tonight we are. It’s getting dark. We’ll pay you four hundred bucks to drop us off and idle five hundred yards away until we give the signal to pick us up.’
‘Four hundred bucks? You must have heard that rich guy doesn’t want tourists stopping by or anyone dropping anchor to photograph his guests with a telephoto lens.’ Dotson crossed his arms over his overalls. ‘What did your pals do to make that guy mad?’
‘Honestly, we don’t know, but we’re both worried.’
The longer Dotson studied his torn cuticles, the more worried Kate became. She upped her ante when the tiny hairs stood on her neck. ‘OK, Greg, four-hundred-eighty dollars. That’s every last dime we brought from Charleston.’
Eric elbowed her side. ‘Could we talk for a moment, Kate, outside?’
‘Easy there, fella. I’m not interested in taking your last buck. I’ll do it for three hundred, but I won’t go there at night. If you’re back here at five o’clock we’ll go at first light.’
Kate jumped to her feet. ‘It’s a deal.’
‘I never could understand securing a protected habitat distinction, but not letting anyone enjoy the flora and fauna of the place,’ Dotson added, more to himself than his guests.
Eric rose to his feet. ‘Thanks, Greg.’
‘Don’t thank me until we get your pals off that expensive chunk of real estate.’ Dotson walked them to the door. ‘Make sure you wear long pants, dark colors, hiking boots, and bring flashlights. If I can get you on shore, you won’t find any well-lit, well-marked trails to Frazier’s house.’
EIGHT
Elysian Island. Tuesday a.m.
At half past nine on Tuesday, two guards arrived to escort Nate and Izzy down to breakfast. ‘You’re a little late today,’ Nate said when he spotted one guard’s black eye. ‘Were you boys out on the town last night? That where you got the shiner?’
‘Keep it up, Price. I’m just itchin for my trigger finger to slip.’
‘Please, both of you,’ Izzy begged. ‘All I want is to solve the murder and go home.’ She grabbed Nate’s hand like a naughty child and pulled him toward the dining room, to the great amusement of the guards.
With Michael, Beth, and Nicki already in their seats, they didn’t have long to wait for Frazier or for their less than mediocre breakfast. As Nate and Izzy filled their coffee cups, Compton ushered in Frazier, followed by Mrs Norville and her son carrying a cardboard box, a toaster, and half a gallon of orange juice. The pair placed their burdens on the buffet and left.
Nate wondered about the quality of today’s coffee, since Frazier sipped his from a travel mug, instead of filling a cup at the silver-plated urn. And, for a change, Jonah Creery was conspicuously absent.
‘Good morning, members of the Price team of investigators,’ Frazier greeted. ‘I trust you slept well.’
‘Since you asked,’ said Beth, ‘I heard strange sounds overhead all through the night.’
Frazier forced a smile in Beth’s direction. ‘Hard to say who or what made those sounds. Both the maids’ quarters and the guards’ rooms are on the third floor. Perhaps they all joined hands in a square dance.’ He turned his focus to Nate.
‘I must apologize for today’s breakfast. Mrs Norville refuses to cook a hot meal for guests who display such a complete lack of appreciation. In the crate you’ll find a loaf of white bread, jars of peanut butter and various jellies, and individual portions of yogurt. There’s also orange juice and plenty of coffee. Mrs Norville will return later to see if you need more. I insisted on strong coffee to help your … thought processes.’ Frazier studied each guest in succession.
‘I’m sure breakfast will be fine. Please thank Mrs Norville on our behalf.’ Nate sounded as sincere as possible. ‘What do you have planned for us today?’
‘Please, Mr Frazier.’ Nicki half rose from her chair. ‘Before we get started, may I ask how my husband is?’
‘Ah, that’s the demure young lady your mama raised you to be.’ A ghost of a smile brightened Frazier’s gray pallor.
Like a wild animal caught in a trap, Nicki didn’t move a muscle while she waited.
‘He’s perfectly fine. Hunter spent the night in an old sleeping bag left behind by the previous owner. He had canned chili for supper and, with any luck, Mrs Norville will give him bread and jam later.’
‘Tell Mrs Norville that I would be ever so grateful.’ Nicki tucked her long skirt under her as she sat down.
‘A fine improvement, Mrs Galen. Now if there are no more questions or complaints about nocturnal noise, I’ll give you your instructions. Team one will remain indoors studying a videotape of Bob McDowell, an investigative reporter for one of the Atlanta stations. I use the term investigative loosely. As you will see, Bob’s specialty is tabloid journalism by sensationalizing every story he covers to boost network ratings. Some of the interviews you’ll see aired in the days following my wife’s murder, while some of the footage was cut before broadcast. But rest assured, enough innuendo went over the airwaves to muddy the water and besmirch my wife’s integrity.’
‘May I ask how you obtained this video?’ asked Michael, sipping his cold coffee.
Their host frowned. ‘How I obtained it isn’t relevant to the investigation. Suffice it to say that the right price will buy anything in our corrupt, materialistic world. As for the remaining members of team two – Beth and Isabelle – you will be searching for clues on my wild and wonderful island and, with any luck, you’ll run into a suspect to interview.’
‘That’s insane!’ Nate slicked a hand through his hair. ‘You’re sending two women outdoors when a murderer is on the loose?’
‘What a sexist thing to say.’ Frazier shifted his focus to Izzy and Beth. ‘Dear me, Isabelle, I’m surprised your caveman husband doesn’t keep you barefoot and chained to the stove all day. As for you, Beth, your boss doesn’t think very highly of your abilities. I’m curious why he hired you in the first place. It truly isn’t for your fashion sense or charming personality.’
Before either woman could respond, Nate shouted. ‘If you want us to play your stupid little game, stop baiting my wife and employees!’
As guards closed in to protect Frazier, their host placed his hands on the table and shouted with equal fervor. ‘Rest assured, Mr Price, if you refuse to play my game, every one of you will die.’
Nate stood and rammed in his chair. ‘Isn’t that what you had in mind from the beginning? You’ll never let us go after what we’ve witnessed.’
Frazier uttered a nasty, contemptuous word. ‘What do I care what you witnessed? I’m not the one killing people on this island!’ The two glared at each other like angry bulls in a spring pasture.
‘I believe you, Mr Frazier,’ said Izzy, breaking the stalemate. She walked to where Beth sat and pulled her teammate to her feet. ‘You’re right – Nate can be a tad sexist. Beth and I are ready to search for suspects.’
‘I knew you were the level-headed one, Isabelle.’ Frazier’s eyes glowed with admiration. ‘But you haven’t had your breakfast yet. How about toast and yogurt? I know it’s not much, but my cook can be downright stubborn at times.’
‘Toast will be fine,’ Izzy said as she and Beth headed to the breakfront.
The guards kept Michael and Nate in their seats until their wives had eaten a slice of toast, grabbed containers of yogurt, and left the dining room.
Once the double doors closed, Frazier clapped his hands. ‘Very well, now team one may get their breakfast. While you eat, I’ll set up the VCR to show the reporter’s interviews on continuous loop. When you’ve watched the tape enough times, simply press the machine’s stop button.’ Frazier rolled over the television, popp
ed in the tape, and pressed play. ‘As always, use the button on my chair if you need more coffee or when you’re finished and wish to return to your rooms.’ Then their host picked up his travel mug and left the dining room.
Finally alone in the ornate room, Nate scrubbed his face with his hands. This was a house of madness, not a place for a happily married couple to retire. His cousin, Nicki, sat at the table, staring into space, as though in a daze. ‘Nicki,’ he said, breaking through the fog. ‘Eat a piece of toast or some yogurt. You should keep your strength up, for Hunter’s sake.’
Like a robot, Nicki walked to the toaster and pushed down a slice of bread.
‘Same goes for you, boss.’ Michael practically yanked him from his chair. ‘We’ll all eat and watch the video. But we’ll keep our eyes open for our chance.’
‘A chance to do what?’ Nate muttered at the buffet.
Michael shrugged. ‘We’ll know it when we see it.’
So Nicki with her piece of toast, and Nate and Michael with toast, yogurt and coffee refills sat down at the table to watch TV, where the worst of tabloid journalism unraveled before their eyes.
Bob McDowell was a master at directing an interview where he wanted it to go. In the days following the murder, he canvassed Frazier’s expensive suburban neighborhood, looking for a bored housewife or an embittered man eager to talk. Many were willing to cast aspersions on the May–December marriage, even if they’d barely known Ariana and Julian Frazier. In the age of reality television, people were so eager for five minutes of fame that they shamelessly stated Ariana married Julian for his wealth, while others inferred she stepped out on him as often as she could. As the interviews aired, McDowell showed photos of Ariana at several galas, pictured over a span of several years, judging by her hair and clothes. In each photo Ariana was always holding a glass of champagne. And she was always surrounded by adoring fans, instead of on the arm of her husband. Of course, how many of these neighbors spent every minute at a party with their spouse? McDowell did everything he could to portray Ariana as a gold-digging party girl who loved money, expensive jewelry, and a good time.
During one segment which aired during the six o’clock news, McDowell went so far as to describe the murder as ‘mysterious,’ yet he had nothing but innuendos and suppositions to back up his claims. McDowell even questioned the grieving widower why their marriage lacked a pre-nuptial agreement, implying that in itself made Frazier suspect in her death.
The sleazy journalist had done his homework. He had searched for anything that would muddy the waters of Ariana’s murder, instead of reporting the plain and simple truth: Julian and Ariana were victims of a break-in that had turned deadly. And the fact that the Fraziers had no pre-nup or that Ariana liked to drink and socialize had nothing to do with it.
Nate lost his appetite halfway through the first showing, but he let the tape play again to make sure he didn’t miss something.
‘Bob McDowell is a pig,’ Nicki concluded once Nate switched off the machine.
‘You’ll get no argument from me.’ Michael pushed away his plate of bread crusts. ‘Journalism sinks to a new low.’
Nate jotted down a few notes. ‘Frazier has every reason to hate this guy, but I don’t see how watching these interviews helps us figure out who paid the Fallons, if someone indeed did. McDowell’s interests lie in high ratings for his news segments. But I doubt even McDowell would set up a high-profile murder to create fodder to exploit.’
Michael rubbed the stubble on his chin. ‘I agree. But without internet access, we can’t check if McDowell knew either Ariana or Julian prior to that night.’
‘Didn’t Mr Frazier say if we needed the internet, he would provide it?’
Nicki’s question caught Nate by surprise. ‘You heard Frazier say that?’
She nodded. ‘I’m pretty sure it was the day we checked in.’
‘Good work, Nick. As long as no one wants to watch this again, I’ll signal that we’re done in here. I’ll tell whoever shows up we need access to Wi-Fi if Frazier wants us to connect this tape to the killings.’
When Nicki and Michael shook their heads, Nate pressed the button on Frazier’s chair.
The charming Mrs Norville and several black-clad guards answered his call. ‘Your team’s finished already?’ The cook sounded disappointed, as though she wasn’t getting her money’s worth after the tasty breakfast. When Nate stated his request, the cook rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll tell Mr Frazier what you want. Maybe he’ll give you a couple hours online tonight or maybe he’ll let you talk to McDowell at dinner. But I ain’t going out on a limb for you, Mr Price.’
That woman doesn’t like me anymore than she likes Nicki, he thought as armed guards led them back to their quarters.
Beth changed into sweat pants, a long T-shirt and a hoodie, making sure her baggy pants hid the only advantage she had. Ridiculously, she checked for a dial tone on the phone by the bed. But no tooth fairy came during the night to reconnect the landline to civilization. At some point yesterday, Frazier had everything removed from her room that could possibly be used as a weapon – the fireplace poker, the cords which tied back the heavy drapes, even the water glasses had been switched with paper cups. There would be no even playing field in Frazier’s monstrous game.
‘What’s taking you so long?’ yelled a gruff voice in the hallway.
Beth jumped, but she was even more startled when the guard unlocked her door and walked in.
‘Nothing,’ she replied, forgoing a sarcastic response. ‘I’m ready to go.’
The guard took a quick look around and then hustled her down the back stairs. Curtailing any opportunity to snoop, the nastiest of her captors prodded Beth outdoors. ‘Good luck, ladies. Try not to get yourselves killed.’ She and Izzy heard raucous laughter after he slammed the door.
‘Everything OK?’ Izzy asked.
‘Just peachy.’ Beth pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket. ‘Was there anything different about your room?’
Izzy cocked her head to one side. ‘Not that I noticed, but I was in a hurry to get this over with.’
‘Someone took everything from our room that possibly could be used as a weapon, like the fireplace poker and sash cords.’
‘Frazier’s worried about letting us have lengths of rope when he’s got men with automatic weapons?’ Isabelle shook her head. ‘He really doesn’t know who’s killing off the suspects.’
‘Which means he’s not the one who killed Fallon and Sanborn.’ Beth drew the obvious conclusion – one she didn’t like.
‘Like Frazier said, he could have killed either of them long ago and saved himself all the trouble and expense.’ Izzy gazed skyward, where low clouds foretold rain later that day.
‘Well, if the killer isn’t our peculiar host and it’s not one of us, then that leaves the remaining suspects, since Frazier’s staff here didn’t work for him in Atlanta, and Creery and Frazier seemed to be joined at the hip. So we’ve got the reporter, the assistant prosecutor, and the former public defender, now Hunter’s lawyer. What a bizarre twist of fate that is.’
‘You’re not kidding. Let’s get going. I’m eager to talk to that Jennifer Jacobs.’ Isabelle impatiently shifted from one foot to the other. ‘I’m afraid if we don’t solve this soon, Mrs Norville will be reduced to serving us moldy bread and rainwater.’
An idea popped into Beth’s head. ‘The cook’s lousy menus might not be her fault. Just like Captain Burke hasn’t returned to bring us Kate and Eric, I haven’t seen any boats delivering food or mail or anything else. And I usually stay up half the night watching out my window.’
‘You think Frazier cancelled every boat headed this way?’
‘Maybe not Frazier. Maybe it was whoever cut the phone line to the mainland.’
‘This is going from bad to worse. Well, team leader, what’s our plan for today?’ Izzy asked without a hint of sarcasm.
Beth exhaled a weary sigh. ‘I was thinking about this last night when I couldn�
��t sleep. When Frazier sent us out two days ago, we checked the barn behind the house and then headed east until we reached the beach. When Nate, Nicki, and Michael left yesterday, they headed around the house to the front terrace and found the path to the dock where the Slippery Eel ties up.’
Izzy nodded agreement. ‘That’s how Nate explained it too. When they realized Eric and Kate weren’t coming, they tried to find a different way back, but couldn’t. Nate said the undergrowth is so thick you’d need a machete to get through it.’
‘We went east; they went west, so today we go south.’ Beth pointed. ‘That way, judging by the position of the sun. Let’s see if we can find a suspect in that direction.’
Izzy gazed back at the house where shadows moved behind the curtains. ‘Sounds good. Maybe we’ll discover the spot where two lawyers like to hide.’
‘Or where they plot who to bump off next.’ Beth regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. Izzy made a living as a part-time real-estate agent and full-time mother. She didn’t need anyone scaring her more than she already was.
But Izzy didn’t seem remotely shocked by her comment. Maybe the boss brought plenty of work stories home with him. For whatever reason, Izzy was already heading south at a fast walk. Beth had to run to catch up with her.
Although there was no real path in this direction, navigating the terrain proved easier than the path she and Izzy had taken on Sunday. After an hour of walking, the woods thinned to an occasional loblolly pine, interspersed with buckthorns and crepe myrtles, and acres upon acres of tall grass, as though this area had once been farmed by a former resident. As long as they watched for gopher holes, the teammates were able to walk side by side.
‘I hope Nate’s behavior didn’t offend you at breakfast,’ Izzy said. ‘He’s very protective of all his employees, even if you can shoot better than he can.’