by Mary Ellis
‘If Ensley was on the island, he could have shot the ADA to keep her quiet,’ Nate suggested.
Their host sighed. ‘All of the suspects were searched when they arrived, so we know Ensley didn’t have a weapon. How could he have gotten Beth’s gun, which I’m sure the police will determine was the murder weapon?’
‘I don’t know! Maybe Ensley had been following Beth and Izzy and took Beth’s gun after he knocked them out.’
It was a stalemate. Fortunately, Compton and Norville broke the uncomfortable quiet by delivering roast beef, mashed potatoes, mushroom gravy, creamed corn and warm dinner rolls. Not exactly gourmet, but better than chili with saltines. Nate had lost most of his appetite when Izzy flirted with Frazier under the misguided notion it would keep them alive, so while the Price team picked at their food, Frazier ate heartily and drank two more glasses of wine. It was the most uncomfortable meal they had ever endured.
When Frazier finally finished, he summoned the guards and walked them to the door.
‘Good night, Mr Frazier,’ Izzy murmured. ‘Thank you for supper.’
‘Good night, Isabelle. Thank you for your company.’ Frazier ignored Nicki as she walked out, but he grabbed onto Nate’s sleeve. ‘Remember, Mr Price. You better hope my men locate Ensley tonight or you and Michael find him tomorrow. That public defender is our last hope of discovering the truth. If I don’t find out who was behind the break-in, things won’t go well for you and your investigators.’
As the guards took Nate by the arm, Frazier strode away in the other direction. He didn’t give them as much as a backward glance.
ELEVEN
St Simons Island. Thursday a.m.
On Thursday morning, Kate decided to jog around John’s neighborhood while Eric was still asleep. Running was good for the body and good for the mind. Hopefully she’d be able to figure out their current dilemma, as well as their long-range plans.
Eric wanted to leave his well-paid career as head chef in his family’s restaurant to become a private investigator like her, a job where hours were long and paydays few and far between. And Eric looked to her for a plan of action, as though crime-solving was as simple as following the steps in a lasagna recipe. She hated to disappoint him, since her affection for the gourmet cook had gone far beyond their former landlord–tenant relationship. So when Kate had circled the block without a single epiphany, she went around a second time at a slower pace.
‘Good morning, sunshine,’ Eric crowed the moment she walked through the door. ‘Coffee is hot and I’ve got soft boiled eggs with whole-wheat toast for breakfast.’
Since Eric was already showered and dressed he must have gotten up the moment she left the house. ‘How did you get breakfast done so fast?’
‘I faked being asleep, so you would have some time alone. You’re not used to people hovering around you twenty-four/seven.’
Kate took a bite of toast. ‘Wow, a man who can cook and read minds? My gal-pal Beth would call you a keeper.’
Eric handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Beth is a very smart woman. What’s our plan to rescue her and your co-workers today?’
‘We don’t know they actually need rescuing. Everybody could be having such a good time, they forgot all about the newest hire and her boyfriend.’ Kate finished the toast in three bites.
‘You know that’s not true. Sit down and eat.’
Kate slid into a chair and pulled her plate of eggs closer. ‘Here’s what I came up with. The people in the marina all seemed to know each other. So why wouldn’t they also know this Captain Burke who works for Mr Frazier? He might not lease a slip, but I’m sure someone has run into him at the diesel pumps or in some bar. We just need to find the spot where boaters congregate.’
‘That’s why you’re a keeper – beautiful and smart.’ Eric kissed the top of her head and dug into his eggs.
As soon as they finished eating, Kate loaded the dishwasher and jumped in the shower. Thirty minutes later, she was dressed in combat-ready clothes, prepared to run, jump, or – if necessary – leap tall buildings to find her friends.
Of the first dozen people they asked at the bar in the Morningstar marina, most had met Mike Burke once or twice, but didn’t know where he lived or where he docked Frazier’s yacht on this side of Elysian Island. However, the thirteenth boater knew Captain Burke quite well and provided specific directions on how to find his home near Gascoigne’s Bluff. According to the old-timer, Captain Mike and his wife bought a yellow bungalow near Epworth-by-the-Sea after the kids grew up and moved out. In fact Kate and Eric could barely pry themselves away from the chatty neighbor who apparently had never heard of privacy laws.
They had no trouble finding the two-story home with dormers and a wraparound porch. As soon as Eric parked across the street, Kate spotted a deeply tanned man cutting the lawn in Bermuda shorts, someone who looked far too distinguished to be a gardener despite his ball cap.
‘Captain Mike Burke?’ she called, halfway up the driveway.
‘Yep, that’s me.’ He killed the mower’s engine. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I hope so. May we have a word with you?’ Kate waited until they were face-to-face to elaborate. ‘I’m Kate Weller and this is Eric Manfredi. We’ve been trying to reach you, but you’re not answering your calls or texts.’
‘When I’m not working, I throw my business cell phone in the drawer and carry only my personal cell.’ Burke pushed his sunglasses atop his head and stared at them. ‘Did you say Weller and Manfredi? I was told you had changed your mind about attending the corporate retreat.’
‘Who told you that?’ Eric stepped up to Kate’s side.
‘Mr Creery relayed the information from the boss. Mr Frazier said he doesn’t need me until Saturday and that I had time off with pay until then.’ Burke looked from Eric to Kate and back again.
Kate crossed her arms over her chest, unable to hide her irritation. ‘We didn’t change our minds and have been cooling our heels in the village since you stood us up on Tuesday.’
Burke swept off his Atlanta Braves cap. ‘I am so sorry, Miss Weller, Mr Manfredi. Mr Creery called me early Tuesday morning to say you two had changed your minds.’
‘Please stop saying that,’ Kate muttered. ‘We didn’t change anything.’
‘This Creery guy called you?’ Eric asked. ‘Using what?’
Burke blinked several times. ‘I’m assuming he used the phone in Mr Frazier’s office. An underwater cable connects Elysian Island to the mainland because cell coverage can be unreliable.’
‘Yes, we found that out.’ Kate felt beads of sweat form on her lip.
‘Come with me into the house. We’ll call the island right now and find out how I got the wrong information.’
Kate and Eric followed him into a neat-as-a-pin kitchen where a redhead was taking cookies from the oven.
‘Hello,’ the redhead greeted. ‘I’m Celine Burke. You’re just in time for chocolate chip cookies.’
‘That’s very kind of you, ma’am, but no thank you,’ Kate said.
‘Maybe a little bit later,’ Eric added.
‘We need to get to the bottom of a communication breakdown first,’ Burke explained as he reached for the phone.
As a thought popped into Kate’s head, she grabbed hold of his arm. ‘Wait a moment, Captain. Did you actually speak to Mr Frazier?’
‘Why don’t we sit down?’ Burke pointed at the kitchen table. ‘No, I spoke to Jonah Creery, his assistant. But Jonah said the directive came from Mr Frazier.’
‘And you’re the one who took my boss, Nate Price, and his employees to Elysian on Saturday?’
‘Yes, I am. It was Mr Price, his wife, and two other couples. Sorry, I don’t remember their names, but they seemed like a nice group of people.’
‘How well do you know this Jonah Creery?’ Eric asked.
Burke shrugged. ‘I don’t know him well at all, but Mr Frazier sure does. Creery was the chief financial officer of the company Julian founded
years ago. In fact, to my knowledge, Creery stayed on as CFO even after Julian retired. He’s a bit younger.’
‘To be clear, which company are you talking about?’ Kate pulled out her trusty notebook as Mrs Burke set down a pot of coffee and three cups.
‘The Resilient Automotive Systems Corporation in Atlanta. Mr Frazier started out in his garage years ago, then kept expanding as his business grew. Now it’s an international billion-dollar enterprise and the elder Mr Frazier still owns fifty-five percent of the stock. Julian’s nephew, Alexander, is the current CEO. Would either of you like coffee?’
Kate answered for them. ‘Yes, please, cream and sugar for me and black for Eric.’
‘Such a shame,’ interjected Celine Burke, slipping into the fourth chair at the table. ‘Not long after Mr Frazier bought Elysian Island and retired, his wife died, leaving him to rattle around in that huge house alone. And in such an awful way, no less.’
The captain patted her hand. ‘Now, Celine, these folks want to know why I received erroneous information about them, not hear about some old tragedy.’
Kate exchanged a glance with Eric. ‘Actually, Captain, anything you can tell us about the Fraziers might help. We suspect someone has been purposefully keeping us away.’
‘It certainly isn’t me.’ Burke pressed a hand to his chest.
‘We believe you,’ Eric said. ‘Can you tell us how Mrs Frazier was killed?’
Celine stared into her cup for a moment. ‘She was beaten to death during a home invasion and, although the police caught the thugs, Mr Frazier insisted other people had been involved. The poor man went a little nuts after she died. That’s why he seldom comes to St Simons or the mainland.’
Mike waved his hand through the air. ‘That’s not fair, Celine. Julian isn’t nuts. He’s just eccentric and he’s always been very good to us.’
‘All right,’ Kate said. ‘Before this discussion goes completely off-track, I need the names of everyone you ferried to the island during the last month.’
Burke lifted an eyebrow. ‘Don’t you think I should call the island first? There could be a completely logical explanation. I would hate to compromise Mr Frazier’s privacy without good reason. If I call Jonah Creery on his satellite phone, then Julian won’t have to learn about the confusion.’
Now somebody is worried about privacy? Kate thought. ‘No, give me Creery’s number. I want to talk to him myself.’
Again, Burke looked reluctant. ‘I don’t think I should.’
Kate’s blood pressure was rising rapidly. ‘Look, Captain, we believe something has happened out on Elysian. We’ll need time to do some research before deciding how to proceed. But if you call out there, and my suspicions are correct, I’ll see that you’re charged with obstruction of justice or possibly even as an accomplice.’ It was a lofty threat, one that Kate wasn’t sure would stand up, but it worked.
Celine gasped while every bit of color drained from Captain Mike’s face. ‘I have no wish to obstruct anything. I’ll cooperate with you.’
‘OK, start by getting that list of passengers for the last four weeks. We also plan to contact Frazier’s nephew and see if he wants to involve the police.’
Burke sprang to his feet. ‘My logbook is on the yacht, the Slippery Eel, which is moored at a protected dock not far away. I’ll go get it and come right back.’ Burke raced out the door.
‘And don’t make any calls,’ Kate hollered after him.
Celine looked from one to the other. ‘While Mike is gone, would either of you like more coffee or some cookies?’
Thoroughly impressed by the woman’s hospitality, Kate didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, ma’am, we would. That’s very kind of you.’
While Celine’s back was turned, Eric rolled his eyes at her, then proceeded to devour five cookies.
True to his word, Captain Burke returned ten minutes later with the logbook. He copied down a list of names along with dates on a sheet of paper. ‘I took these guests to Elysian Island last week, a few days before I picked up Mr Price’s group. I took the first group over a three-day period. I put the date next to the passenger’s name.’ Then Burke added the names of Michael and Beth Preston, Hunter and Nicki Galen, and Nate and Isabelle to the sheet. ‘Here you go, Miss Weller. Celine and I will be home all day if you still need me. And I promise not to call Elysian Island.’
Kate tucked the list in her purse. ‘Thanks, we’ll be in touch. And Mrs Burke, those were the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.’
Celine blushed to a pretty shade of pink. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s just the recipe from the bag of morsels.’
Kate grinned at Eric as they left the house.
‘Smirk all you want now,’ he teased. ‘You won’t be smiling when I tell Granny what you said.’
Eric drove back to the condo as fast as the speed limit allowed. For the next few hours they learned everything they could about Frazier’s company and his wife’s murder. From newspaper archives, they discovered that a pair of brothers, Mack and Reuben Fallon, had been arrested and charged with the break-in, robbery and death of Ariana Frazier. But Mack Fallon died before standing trial and Reuben was subsequently released on an unnamed technicality.
Reuben Fallon was the first name on Captain Burke’s passenger list.
Thirty minutes later, Eric matched a second name on the list to the Frazier murder case. ‘The Atlanta cop who caught the burglary/break-in case was Detective Charles Sanborn,’ Eric said, looking up from his laptop. ‘Captain Burke took him to the island the day after Reuben Fallon, along with Kurt Ensley, whoever he is.’
Kate studied the list. ‘Then Jennifer Jacobs and Bob McDowell were delivered to Elysian on the third day. I’m guessing all five are somehow connected to the murder of Ariana Frazier.’
‘I’ll take McDowell; you take Jennifer Jacobs,’ Eric suggested. His next revelation came on the heels of his first. ‘I thought the name Bob McDowell sounded familiar. He’s a television news reporter from Atlanta. Sometimes the Charleston stations carry his segments if they’re newsworthy enough. McDowell must have covered the story on the evening news.’ Eric leaned back in his chair. ‘But why would Frazier bother with a journalist? They just report whatever they see or hear.’
Kate shook his head. ‘Journalists aren’t always one hundred percent truthful with their stories. See if you can find any of McDowell’s coverage of the murder, while I try to get ahold of Julian’s nephew, Alexander Frazier.’
Before long, Eric had listened to enough of Bob McDowell’s recent segments to know he was the tabloid news type, although he found nothing about the murder. And Kate had found out enough about the Resilient Automotive Systems Corporation to make an intelligent stock purchase for her portfolio – if she had one – but still didn’t know where Alexander Frazier, the current CEO, lived or how to reach him. Every call to his office yielded the same result: ‘I’d be happy to take a message, miss,’ said his secretary, ‘or make an appointment for you. But unless you describe your so-called emergency, I can’t let you speak to him directly. Mr Frazier is a very busy man.’
Indeed. ‘My name is Kate Weller and I work for Nate Price Investigations. Our team was invited to Elysian Island for a week-long corporate retreat. My partner and I have been unable to join our team, but we feel something is very wrong on the island. Instruct Mr Frazier to call me before trying to reach his uncle or his assistant, Jonah Creery. This is of upmost importance.’
Kate had to repeat her message three times, including her phone number, before the secretary correctly repeated it back. Then the secretary barraged her with a series of questions:
What is very wrong on the island?
Why shouldn’t Mr Frazier call his uncle first?
Why have you been unable to reach the island?
‘None of that is important,’ she blurted, rapidly losing patience. ‘I will explain everything to Alexander Frazier. Please have him call me ASAP.’
Kate hung up, feeling confident he
r message would be relayed intact immediately and she would be talking to Frazier’s nephew within the hour.
Elysian Island. Thursday a.m.
Nate and Izzy had argued for an hour before going to bed the previous evening. Then both had tossed and turned for another hour before falling asleep. Nate felt his wife had gone overboard flirting with Frazier in hopes of preserving their lives and securing humane treatment of Hunter and Beth. Isabelle, however, thought him to be a typical jealous husband and that Mr Frazier simply wanted to solve his wife’s murder before dying of cancer. The fact that there were already four dead bodies somewhere on the island didn’t promote much caution with Izzy.
Nate apologized on their way to breakfast, yet Izzy’s acceptance seemed half-hearted at best. When Compton ushered them into the dining room, only one person was at the table.
‘Where have you two been?’ Michael asked. ‘I’m already on my third cup of coffee.’
‘Overslept.’ Nate saw no need to elaborate. ‘Where’s Nicki?’
‘In her room, refusing to come down. She sent a note to Frazier instructing him to give her share of breakfast to Hunter.’
‘That poor girl,’ murmured Izzy, pouring a cup of coffee. ‘She’s so worried about him. I’ll send a note to Mr Frazier asking if I could spend the day with Nicki while you two search for Kurt Ensley.’ Izzy took her regular chair.
‘Hang on.’ Irritation spiked up Nate’s spine. ‘Let’s think about this before you rush off, writing notes.’
Izzy’s expression spoke volumes as she sipped from her mug.
Michael turned his back to the door. ‘I’m going to make a request,’ he whispered to Nate. ‘Give me all your cash when Compton steps into the hallway. Mr Compton, may I trouble you for another pot of coffee?’ Michael asked in his most cordial voice. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t leave enough for Nate and Isabelle.’
The moment the door closed behind the butler, Nate pulled out his wallet and handed over several twenties. ‘Don’t know what good these will do you. The guards won’t be easily bribed considering Frazier’s per diem.’