Murder on the Island

by Daisy White

  Eventually they stopped to rest, and unscrewed water bottles. Chloe wiped her forehead, sweat pouring down her neck, making her shirt stick to her back.

  ‘You okay to finish off this section?’ Antoine asked.

  ‘Fine. Didn’t you come this way yesterday?’

  ‘No. Someone did cover it, but I’m going to double-check every single place until I’ve found her,’ he said.

  Chloe nodded in agreement, thinking once again how lucky she had been that chance had brought her together with such lovely, warm people. Ailsa, Antoine, Peter and Finn had all been so welcoming. No way would she let everyone down by failing Dre’s legacy. But to stand any hope of carrying on she had to find her equine star, her gentle Goldie.

  They separated briefly. Antoine went to look at the caves near the high-water mark, and Chloe clambered over sandbanks and crispy seaweed, peering up at the clifftops.

  She was just getting exhausted again when she heard it. A horse. She froze, listening hard. The wind was getting up, and whipped the noise away from her.

  ‘Goldie!’

  She yelled for Antoine next, and he came running lightly down the beach, expression worried. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘She’s here! I can hear Goldie. Listen.’ Chloe’s heart was thumping hard, her hands clenched tightly.

  The whinny was faint, but definitely there. The beach was empty, and the shoreline was sheer rock in most places. Bewildered, Chloe and Antoine began to scramble along the rock face, edging their way between the coves. The rocks were sharp and plentiful.

  ‘Where the hell is she?’ Antoine exclaimed in frustration.

  The answer came as they rounded another bluff. Here, the cliff doubled back, almost folded in on itself to create a small sandy area, hung with a curtain of plants and vines. Seabirds flew in and out of nesting holes on the rocks, fluttering high above the palomino horse trapped in a pen of twisted wire.

  ‘Goldie!’ Chloe called again, her voice almost hoarse from yelling and emotion.

  19

  They climbed further along, dropping down and racing across the sand to the horse. Goldie was muzzled and hobbled, and penned by several feet of barbed wire fencing. There was an empty bucket outside the fence, suggesting perhaps somebody had been providing food and water.

  ‘My poor baby girl. It’s okay, we’ve come to get you,’ Antoine was crooning. He leapt lightly over the wire, reaching back to hastily haul Chloe over.

  Landing with a thump in the soft sand, she gently held out a hand to Goldie, stroking the mare’s neck as Antoine got busy removing her bonds.

  The horse had obviously been fighting to get away, because she had deep scratches on her forelegs, and there were drag marks in the sand, where she had been around and around her prison. Her flanks were drawn and her beautiful golden coat was dull.

  They had almost finished when a shout drew their attention. Two men were coming down a narrow path from the top of the cliff.

  ‘Quick, get that wire out of the way,’ Chloe told Antoine. ‘Is she lame?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Okay, jump on and get her away from here. You can go along the beaches now the tide’s out, can’t you?’

  ‘No. Absolutely no way am I leaving you here by yourself, Mrs C.’

  ‘They won’t hurt me.’

  ‘How do you know?’ He squinted at the men. ‘Oh it’s them. I see, but how do we know they aren’t involved?’

  ‘We don’t, but trust me. You and Goldie are probably in more danger than I am if something is going on. We need her back and checked out. Now go!’

  With a backward glance, he vaulted onto Goldie’s back, and guided her through the wire, out onto the sand. She pranced a little, shaking her white mane, clearly delighted to be free.

  ‘Go!’

  The pair shot off across the beach, heading homewards. The dull thud of swift hooves on sand echoed in her ears, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Antoine had his phone on him, would call the police as soon as he got Goldie to safety. And she had been telling the truth, she didn’t think these men would hurt her.

  Chloe shook sand out of her shoes and waited at the bottom of the cliff. For a moment she had wondered if she was wrong, if it was a trick of the light. But no, as they approached she saw she was correct. Walking towards her were Arron Stone and Jonas Aliente.

  It had been gut instinct, and the urge to protect Antoine and Goldie, that led her to claim she wasn’t in any danger, but seeing their set faces, in reality she wasn’t so sure. Was this really about her selling up?

  ‘Chloe? My God, what’s going on? Was that your missing horse?’ Jonas asked. He looked flustered, worried even. His shirt and one side of his shorts were covered in sand.

  ‘We were looking at a couple of properties, and checking on progress at the new development when we thought we heard a horse,’ Arron explained. ‘We searched the top of the cliff, but we couldn’t work out where the creature was. Jonas thought it might have fallen down a gulley and gotten trapped.’

  She stared back at them for a long moment. Both men were formally dressed in shorts and suit jackets, their polished brown shoes sliding in the sand. Arron had sand on his trousers and the top button on his shirt was undone. It was a good story. It could even be true, Chloe thought.

  ‘Are you all right? Was that your manager? Why did he gallop off like that? The horse could be hurt,’ Jonas suggested anxiously.

  ‘I don’t know who put her in that pen, but thankfully she’s okay. I told my manager to take her straight home and call the vet. Best get her checked out. Of course, I’ve let the police know as well. They’re on their way over to see if they can find any clues as to who could have done this.’ Chloe mentally crossed her fingers and hoped Antoine had a good mobile phone signal further along the beach.

  ‘Dreadful. I still don’t understand why somebody would do this! Especially just before the photoshoot. I spoke to Fiona earlier and she was devastated that they would have to use another horse. Apparently yours is the only palomino on the island.’ Jonas did look genuinely concerned as he surveyed the remains of Goldie’s prison. ‘You certainly have been through it recently. Do you think someone is trying to put you out of business?’

  ‘It’s a possibility…’ Chloe said slowly, as though the thought had just occurred to her. ‘I didn’t realise there was a path back up the cliff.’

  ‘It’s very steep. You’d be better off going back round the coves,’ Arron told her. ‘You must have had such a shock, finding the horse here. I do hope she is all right. And how is your poor neighbour doing?’ His expression was charming, with just the right amount of concern. There didn’t seem to be any falseness in his tone, just genuine interest.

  ‘Ailsa? Oh she’s doing well. Thank you for coming to Goldie’s rescue, but I’ll just walk along to the next cove and guide the police down.’

  Both men seemed slightly at a loss in the face of this somewhat curt dismissal, and Arron looked disappointed. ‘If you’re sure we can’t help in any way?’

  ‘No, thank you, it’s all sorted now we have Goldie back, but it’s kind of you to offer,’ she said.

  Arron smiled, seemingly appeased. ‘No problem.’

  ‘I’ll call you later, Chloe. Perhaps I could take you out to dinner? You know, to take your mind of this run of bad luck.’ Jonas had reverted to his usual charming persona, smiling at her in the sunlight.

  ‘Thank you, Jonas, that would be good. I’ll look forward to it.’ Chloe, exhausted, and struggling to observe any niceties, took her leave, heart still pounding far too hard. It was a surreal little scene and she really wasn’t sure what to make of it. ‘And thank you for racing to the rescue.’

  Her exit was slightly spoiled as she tripped on a vine root, but all in all, she just felt glad to have escaped. What the hell was going on?

  20

  The vet was summoned and both Chloe and Antoine watched anxiously as Goldie was given a thorough examination. She sto
od quietly, but her ears still twitched nervously at the slightest sound.

  ‘Is she okay?’ Chloe asked, unable to bear it any longer. She was almost holding her breath, just as she had when she was a little girl waiting for bad news. Some childhood superstitions just never died.

  The vet, Simon, grinned. ‘She’ll be fine. A little dehydrated, but the scratches are superficial.’

  ‘Thank goodness!’ Chloe sagged with relief, suddenly realising she’d been clutching Antoine’s arm in an iron grip. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No worries.’ He was as delighted as she was. ‘Does this mean she can do the photoshoot?’

  Simon packed his gear away in the back of his truck. ‘Don’t see why not.’

  ‘Thank goodness! I mean, her welfare comes first, of course, but this is such a great chance for the business,’ Chloe said, relief making her weak at the knees. ‘I must call Fiona. She was so sweet about the whole thing, but she did give me a deadline before they went with another horse.’

  ‘No other palominos on the island,’ Antoine said proudly, feeding Goldie a carrot.

  ‘No, that’s why she was hanging on for us, but with the photographer and everyone booked, she was just going to have to use a mare from Green Ridge and shoot at the hotel. I hope Ellis Jack doesn’t mind,’ Chloe said with a niggle of worry.

  ‘Ellis is a good man, and I’m sure Fiona would have told him his horse was a reserve candidate.’ Simon smiled at her. ‘Look, I’ll leave you with these rehydration salts. Just put them in her water, and of course, do give me a shout if you have any other concerns. But she’s a tough mare, so she should come out of this absolutely fine. Do the police know who took her yet?’

  ‘No. But they did say Ellis had a lad who went AWOL with some tack on the night she went missing. It seems like that might be connected, although why and how, I have no idea,’ Chloe told him, fussing over the horse. She didn’t want to go into the strange coincidence that seemed to have led Arron and Jonas to Goldie’s prison. The police knew, but she would let them unravel the mystery. Just now, they had a photoshoot to prepare for.

  ‘I’m actually seeing Ellis next. He’s got four booked in for vaccinations, so I’ll pass on the good news,’ Simon offered.

  ‘Sure,’ Antoine said, untying Goldie and leading her towards the hosepipe. ‘I’ll get her bathed and beautified, then.’ He clapped an affectionate hand on the golden neck, and the mare shook her mane.

  Ailsa came over at lunchtime, trailing chickens, and eager for a gossip. ‘She’s back then!’

  ‘Yes, we found her down on the beach.’ Chloe explained the circumstances of the discovery, once again feeling that flood of relief that Goldie was safe. Not only that but her grand plans to save the business seemed to be back on track. Almost giddy with emotion and exhaustion, she beamed at Ailsa. ‘It was so good of everyone to go out looking, and Antoine cares for those horses like they were his own children.’

  Her neighbour nodded thoughtfully. ‘At least you have her home now. Photoshoot still going ahead, I take it?’

  Chloe made coffee and carried two steaming mugs to the table. Despite the glorious sunshine outside, and the heat stretching gentle fingers into the cool interior, this had become a ritual. ‘It really was a last-minute thing, but Fiona wanted Goldie so much, she was hanging on to hear what the vet said. Now she has a clean bill of health, Antoine’s getting her ready.’

  ‘Oh good. Are you still getting your dog today?’

  ‘Yes, but I rang and made an appointment for later this evening. It’s been chaos, and I want to make sure I can spend a bit of time getting her used to her new surroundings,’ Chloe said. Helen had been very understanding.

  ‘Have you heard about Sheetal Araminta?’ Ailsa changed the subject.

  ‘The artist who had anaphylactic shock? No, is she okay?’ Chloe was immediately concerned, her happy daydreams pushed aside.

  A chicken slipped in through the doorway, settling unnoticed, under Ailsa’s chair. ‘She’s fine, don’t panic! You’re more of a mother hen than I am, Chloe…’ She smiled indulgently at her neighbour. ‘I heard the police are treating her allergic reaction as attempted murder.’ She beamed, clearly thrilled to be passing on this nugget.

  ‘But why?’ Chloe noticed the chicken, but was too busy thinking about this new information.

  ‘You need to ask Finn, but word is that Kaila Montana has been arrested, or at least questioned. Apparently there’s evidence that links her to the murder and to this allergic reaction. And she has a conviction for dealing drugs, so she’s a criminal already,’ Ailsa said triumphantly. Clearly, by the emphasis she had given this last piece of information to her, dealing drugs was almost worse than murder.

  ‘Wow.’ Chloe was stuck for words, trying to remember the night at the gallery. Kaila’s picture with the shapes, the bloody carvings in Matthew’s forehead… ‘Oh, Matthew was chosen over Kaila, wasn’t he? I think Jonas said something about her being on the reserve list. But now she’s being exhibited by the Stone galleries, so why attack Sheetal?’

  Ailsa shrugged. ‘No idea, but if Kaila was bumping off artists to get rid of the competition, it makes sense, doesn’t it?’

  She supposed it did, and made a mental note to share her discovery in the painting with Finn, although if Kaila had already been arrested maybe the police had discovered the symbolism for themselves.

  Despite her eagerness to share the gossip, Ailsa seemed slightly less than her usual self today. Chloe supposed she might be feeling the after-effects of the attack more than she was letting on, but she knew any offers of help would be met with a stubborn refusal. ‘I suppose it does. I had no idea the art world was so cut-throat.’

  ‘Neither did I. I expect the police are glad to have a result though. Finn can rest easy knowing he’s got his man, or woman in this case.’

  ‘Yes. I just hope whoever took Goldie is brought to justice too. I’ve got a funny feeling that everything to do with me and the stables is all about trying to drive me out,’ Chloe said.

  ‘Well I hope you’re wrong but those developers would be my obvious choice. Get Finn to take a look at them again if you’re worried.’

  ‘How are Cheryl and the boys?’

  ‘Fine. Alfie’s doing really well and Jordan’s not been in any trouble for a while.’ She sighed, and in the bright sunlight that streamed through the window, suddenly looked old and tired.

  ‘I’d better get down to the garden centre and sort out that dog bed,’ Chloe said eventually. She wanted to add that she hoped her friend would get some rest to help herself heal after the attack, but decided although the thought sprang from genuine concern, this sounded patronising.

  Not meeting Chloe’s eyes, Ailsa shifted in her seat. ‘Yes, I’d better go now. Jordan’s coming over after his cricket practice to clear my drains for me. In fact, if you want to save a bit of time and you know what you want, I can send him down the road to pick up your dog stuff if you like?’

  ‘Oh yes, that would be wonderful.’ Chloe, massively relieved at the offer, had already made a list and seen a lovely tweed bed stacked with the pet supplies on her last trip down to the shops. ‘I’ll ring up and place the order. Are you sure he won’t mind? I’ll probably be busy but he can leave it by the back door and I’ll sort it out when the photoshoot is over.’

  ‘It’ll do him good to run a few errands,’ Ailsa said, her lips pursed, gaze far away and worried.

  ‘Is he back into cricket now then?’ Chloe enquired, puzzled by the dimming of Ailsa’s spirits. She stood up to clear away the mugs, and glanced at her watch. She hadn’t met Jordan, but from everything Ailsa had shared during their chats, she felt like she knew him really well, not to mention Alfie and Cheryl.

  ‘Seems so. Alfie’s doing really well, and they’ve started FaceTiming each other again. I think Cheryl was right and it was just jealousy that caused the rift. Anyway, he’s back on track now and it looks like I might have both grandchildren as sporting heroes!’
r />   ‘I’m so pleased!’ Chloe beamed at her, as she marched out of the door. The chicken stretched its wings, and followed, clucking softly. ‘Now we just need to get that lunatic who assaulted you.’

  Ailsa, on her way towards the hole in the hedge, turned back, her glow fading once again. ‘Oh well, you know even if the police don’t catch him, I’m fine and nothing was taken. See you later!’

  Chloe realised she was standing in her doorway with her mouth open. It wasn’t her imagination, Ailsa was hiding something.

  She wondered what her straight-talking neighbour deemed necessary to keep secret. Ailsa had been cagey about the assault all along. She had been more worked up about Goldie’s disappearance than her own bruises.

  Chloe didn’t want to pry, but she also didn’t like to think of her neighbour being so troubled. She went back to the sink and washed up the few plates and bits of cutlery from last night.

  As she worked, she came to the reluctant conclusion that Ailsa had indeed recognised her attacker, but was choosing to keep quiet about it. Jordan?

  Wiping the last plate and popping it in the wooden rack to dry, Chloe thought she was very glad she was getting her locks changed tonight. It would mean peace of mind at the very least. No random text messages either, and it wasn’t like she had changed her number or anything.

  She rang the garden centre and paid for her order, explaining it would be picked up later and by whom. She did experience a moment’s unease over using Jordan as an errand boy, and she noted that Ailsa, who had the spare key and could easily have suggested letting the boy in to deliver the goods, had not even broached the subject. Could her grandson have attacked her? If he had she certainly wasn’t going to let on.

  She switched on her laptop and pulled up the news pages. There did seem to be a flurry of excitement over Kaila Montana. Opinion was divided over whether she had been taken in for formal questioning, or if she had actually been arrested.

  The Royal Gazette led with an exclusive, revealing Kaila had previously been in a relationship with Matthew. She had also apparently been seen on the island the night he was murdered. There was a bit about the rivalry between artists and the prestige and assured income that came from being part of the Stone Gallery family.