by Sonia Parin
“Oh.”
“Anyway, painting makes me feel good and I earn enough to keep my parents off my back. Although, it all goes a bit quiet in the winter.” She shrugged. “So, you see, I have no real need to blackmail you.” Jill finished her pancakes and washed the plate.
“Are you doing okay now?”
“Huh?”
“Stupid question, I just saw you stuff yourself with a stack of pancakes.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” Jill drained the last of her coffee. “You really should be careful what you go around saying. You can’t leave messages like that or go around telling people you wanted your ex dead.”
“Are you trying to teach me how to avoid being a suspect?”
“More like how to avoid being thrown in prison for a crime you didn’t commit.”
“It’s so comforting to know you have my back.” Eve looked down at her hands. “When I left that message for Mira, I’d been frustrated. It’s a long story.”
“What about what you said to Jack? Your whole attitude was wrong. The police are on the lookout for slip-ups and you seem to be happy to deliver them.”
“I was upset. I’d just seen the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with lying on the floor dead.”
“It must have been horrible.”
“Horrible doesn’t begin to describe it. I’m still waiting for the aftershocks. They’re bound to come.” She pushed out a breath. “Anyway, it can’t have been a picnic for you either.”
Jill nodded. “I nearly tripped over him.... and I screamed. I never knew I was a screamer. My throat still feels sore.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“Why would you say you wanted to kill Mira?”
Eve sighed. “If we’re going to have a tell all session we’ll need more coffee.” Eve got up but instead of making coffee, she went in search of pen and paper. “It won’t take long to tell you about Mira’s matchmaking ways and how frustrating I find them. After that, I think we need to start drawing up a list of suspects. Someone killed the man I once loved, and I need to get to the bottom of it.”
Chapter Nine
“There’s someone at the door.”
Eve sprung upright, her arms flailing, her toe connecting with the coffee table. “Ouch. Who said that? Ouch. What the—”
“Me.” Jill peered down at her from the couch. “How was sleeping on the floor?”
“I can’t feel my back. What possessed me to give up the comfort of my bed... or the couch?”
“It was too late for me to go home last night. I refused to sleep downstairs alone and you lost the coin toss and had to crash on the floor. Personally, I think you should have been a better host and just offered me the couch without resorting to a coin toss. And that’s someone pounding on the door.”
“I’m coming,” Eve called out as she crawled on all fours. “Mira needs to get plumper cushions and guest sleeping bags.” When she reached the front door, she stood up and said, “Whoever you are, unless you have coffee and donuts, you don’t have any business being here.” She drew the door open a fraction and peered out.
“Good morning.”
“Detective.”
“May I come in?”
“Do you have news about my aunt?”
He shook his head.
“How about news about who killed my ex-husband?”
Another shake of his head.
“No news, no coffee, no donuts. And now I’m supposed to let you in and offer you coffee?”
“It would be a generous gesture.”
“So, are you here on official police business?”
“Always.”
“Are you here to arrest me?”
He held his hands up. “I’d need a warrant for that.”
She brushed her hair back only then realizing she still wore her yoga pants and an old t-shirt. Not exactly dressed to impress. Then again, she had no business thinking about wanting to impress a man who might end up handcuffing her. “Okay. Come in.” She drew the door open and waved him in.
“Rough night?” he asked.
“The worst.” They strode along the hallway. When they passed the family sitting room, Eve noticed Jill wasn’t there. Had she fled? Was she that serious about not being seen together?
“I make strong coffee,” she warned, “If you prefer something less potent say so now, or forever hold your peace.”
“Strong coffee will hit the spot.”
“I’d offer you some French toast but I seem to be missing a frying pan. Any idea when I’ll get it back?”
“At this stage, you might want to consider getting a new one.”
“I was going to anyway.” While she didn’t feel that uneasy about being in the house where Alex had been killed, in reality, she had reservations about using the murder weapon to cook her eggs.
“Toast?”
He shook his head. “Just coffee, please.”
She organized the coffee and looked over her shoulder. Something inside her stirred awake. An awareness of his male presence. He filled a room nicely. And he smelled great. She drew in a breath and inhaled a hint of fresh soap and a musky aftershave lotion.
He stood by the door leading to the sitting room.
“Looks like you had a busy night.”
“Do you take sugar and cream with your coffee?” she asked as a way of drawing him back to the kitchen. Last night, she and Jill had sat down to a brainstorming session filling countless pages with notes and questions marks.
“I take mine black, thanks.”
She looked out the window in time to see Jill scampering away. Clearly, she didn’t heed her own advice about suspicious behavior.
“Here you go.” She handed Jack a mug.
He turned to her, his face expressionless as he held up a piece of paper. “What’s this?”
“I see you’re in detecting mode.”
“Eve.”
He’d called her Eve. What had happened to Ms. Lloyd? She didn’t care because suddenly, she liked the sound of her name on his lips. She pressed her mouth against the mug and mumbled, “It’s a piece of paper.”
“With a name on it. My name.”
“Well... just because you’re the investigating officer doesn’t let you off the hook.”
“What?”
“How convenient for you to be called out here to the scene of a crime soon after you left the scene yourself. The moment you step in, you contaminate the scene with your DNA which will be disregarded because you’re the officer in charge.”
He held her gaze without blinking. “You have an overactive imagination.”
“Or perhaps I’m more savvy than the average bear. Which goes to show I’m innocent. Otherwise, I’d be playing my naïve card.”
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to clear my name. I might or might not end up spending more time on the island and I want to be able to walk with my head held high,” it occurred to say. “There’s a mantle of suspicion hanging over me, and don’t try to deny it.” She waited for him to deny it, but he didn’t.
“You haven’t answered my question,” he said.
“I did. It’s not my fault if you’re not satisfied with my answer.” She blew out a breath. “I’m doing my civic duty by providing a different perspective.” Eve smiled as she suddenly imagined breaking the case.
“Eve. Careful, you’re playing with fire. A man has been murdered and the killer is still out there.”
She’d never actually thought about it in those terms. There was a killer on the loose and he could be watching her. Right that minute.
He? How about a she?
“So who else was here with you last night?” he asked.
“No one.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Are you asking me to revise my answer?”
“You’ve been watching too many TV shows.” He looked around the room. “And reading suspense thrillers.”
“The books belong to my aunt and she’s not here so you can’t point the finger of blame at her.”
He drank his coffee in one gulp.
“Did you bother to even savor that coffee?”
He nodded. “Very good. Gourmet?”
“Yes. I picked it up at the Chin Wag Café. They have a surprisingly good selection.”
He sighed. “I’d advise you against getting involved, Eve.”
“But I am. There’s no escaping the fact. I’m right in the thick of it.”
“You know what I mean. Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“What do you think I’ll do?”
“Go sniffing around where you shouldn’t,” he insisted, “At this stage, we don’t have a clear lead.”
“So anyone and everyone on the island is under suspicion.”
“The only new person reported—”
“Is me and the victim, my ex-husband. Which begs the question, why am I still free?”
“Are you putting yourself forward as a candidate?”
“I’m just surprised at how quickly you dismissed me as a suspect.”
“You sound offended.”
“I’m only concerned. Just how thorough are you being? What if something now happens to me? You know what they say about disasters coming in threes. Alex has been killed. My aunt is possibly, we don’t really know, but maybe missing...” She didn’t wait for him to answer... or not answer. “Am I being framed? Did someone try to point the finger at me in a not too subtle way? Are they now waiting to ambush me?”
“You used to own a restaurant.”
She had the feeling he’d just diverted her attention. “Yes.”
“How do your employees feel about you?”
“We had a great professional working relationship.”
“What about the ones you let go?”
So, he’d heard about those and that meant she had been considered a suspect. She lifted her chin. How dare he... “I gave them glowing references and used my contacts to get them new jobs.” Belatedly, Eve realized she’d already mentioned having to let people go...
“What about the people on the island? Is there anyone who might resent you being here?”
“I can’t think why. My aunt is loved and appreciated by everyone. And I haven’t ever lived here long enough to cultivate friends or enemies. The only—” She set her mug down, her coffee splashing on the kitchen counter.
Henry Parkmore would have to be deranged to enact some sort of vindictive backlash for her theft of his roses all those years ago.
“You were about to say?”
“Nothing.”
“Eve.”
Your timing is unfortunate.
She suddenly remembered Patrick McKenzie had said that. His choice of words seemed extraordinary... just because she’d chosen to appear out of the blue, unannounced.
What had he meant?
“No one knew I’d be coming here.” She walked around the kitchen, her gaze on the floor as if that could provide her with some clarity.
Her aunt was missing. Not really, but hypothetically, she could be. What if something had happened and Patrick had done away with Mira. There could have been an argument brought on by a long overdue declaration of his feelings for her. Eve imagined Mira laughing it off. Something no man would appreciate. It could have triggered something in Patrick. A scorned lover’s rage. There could have been a struggle.
She strode to the window and gazed out at the breakwater.
What if they’d been standing outside? Patrick could have been overcome by a sudden surge of uncontrollable passion, grabbing Mira, hauling her against him. Shocked by his uncharacteristic behavior, Mira would have tried to break free. In her struggle, she might have slipped and fallen into the water. She could have hit her head and...
Died instantly.
Her body floating away and sinking fast...
Shock. Disbelief would have quaked through Patrick and he would have had a few seconds to decide what to do.
Seeing her dead body, knowing it had been an accident but feeling confused and contrite he would have decided no one would believe him. His first reaction would have been to flee.
As he made his escape... on foot, he would have fallen in step with his usual habit of thinking. And that’s when he would have contrived a plan to clear himself of any wrongdoing.
Patrick would have assumed he’d have time to work out the details.
Time for the body to be eventually discovered.
But then Eve had arrived unexpectedly, thwarting his plans.
Eve nodded as if agreeing with herself.
Yes. Her sudden appearance could have foiled Patrick’s plan to let some time pass before reporting Mira missing.
Your timing is unfortunate.
What if Patrick had then set out to pin a murder rap on her? It wouldn’t be difficult to cast all suspicion her way. If she could kill once, she could kill twice. And if she had no compunction about killing her aunt, she wouldn’t think twice about doing away with her ex-husband.
Without thinking too hard about it, Eve knew Mira would name her as the sole beneficiary in her will. All these books, Eve thought, would be left to her... Mira had no other relatives and no inclination whatsoever to leave her worldly possessions to her sister, Eve’s mother, who would probably turn the books over to the nearest thrift store. There might also be some money...
Eve pressed her hand against her throat.
And that would take care of the motive.
There were some people on the island who knew she would welcome more money. The subject had come up at the bookstore. Eve had told Abby’s assistant that she’d have to kill someone to be able to afford to buy the bookshop.
“Eve?”
She held her hand up calling for a moment longer.
She turned her thoughts back to Patrick McKenzie and tried to dig beneath the layers of his outward friendliness.
Would he be capable of murder?
Could he orchestrate a plan to cover his tracks?
He was a serious thinker and had a fount of knowledge he could tap into.
Patrick had met Alex a couple of times during Eve’s visits to Mira. He could have used their acquaintance, finding a way to contact him to lure him to the island.
Patrick might have been the shadow she’d seen the first night she’d arrived...
He might have been keeping an eye on her comings and goings. As soon as Alex had turned up, he might have led him into the house as an excuse to corner him in the kitchen where Patrick could use the one weapon Eve would resort to.
A kitchen knife...
Or a frying pan.
“I think you were right. Alex was a victim.”
Chapter Ten
“Why did you run off again?” Eve asked Jill. As soon as Jack had left right after he’d once again warned her to keep her nose clean and right out of trouble, Eve had pulled herself together and left the house to go in search of Jill. They’d bumped into each other at the bakery where Jill had just purchased a bag of donuts.
“I was hungry and didn’t think you’d feed me breakfast.”
“You expect me to believe that? You’re scared and you’re hiding something.”
Jill picked up her purchases and swirled away.
Forgetting why she’d gone into the bakery, Eve chased after her. “Wait up.”
“I’m in the middle of a painting frenzy and just popped in for a quick fix of donuts. Sorry, I can’t hang around.”
“Then I’ll follow you.”
“You’re doing it again, Eve. Everyone can see you’re chasing after me. If something happens, you’ll be suspect number one.”
“Because?”
“We’re having a public altercation.”
“Grab your bike and throw it in the back of my car. I’ll drive you over to your place.”
“That’ll defeat the purpose of me trying to avoid being seen with you.”
“Or else?”
“Or else, I’ll tell Jack you’ve been scurrying around and acting suspiciously.” Although, Eve suspected he already knew that, hence his questions about who else had been in the house with her.
“What do you want, Eve?” Jill asked as she secured her bike in the back of the car.
Eve waited for Jill to hop in the passenger seat.
“If you must know, I got spooked.” Mostly by her own thoughts and mental images of Patrick McKenzie declaring himself to Mira and then accidentally killing her. “Jack has been trying to find someone who might hold a grudge against me. The thought unnerves me. I’m a good person and someone’s made me a target.”
“You might be good, but you’re also pushy,” Jill said.
“And you think some people would find that reason enough to want to hurt me?”
Jill shrugged. “Ours is not to reason why.”
“I’m not pushy. I’m just... stressed.” She checked her mirrors and drove off at a sedate pace.
“You keep saying that. Stress can impact your behavior. Again, you should be careful what you go around saying.”
Eve tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “All right. I don’t want to be alone. I’m starting to see everyone in a new light.”
“Including me?”
She hadn’t thought of that. “Needs must. I can’t be suspicious of everyone. Besides, I figure if I spend a day away from the house, I’ll stop thinking about what happened.”
“So, you want me to distract you. What if you hadn’t bumped into me?”
“I was on my way over to your place... and I came to the bakery to get you some donuts.”
Jill shifted in her seat. “I suppose you could pose for me.”
“Didn’t you say you painted beach scenes?”
“You could be a figure in the distance, pondering your next evil act.”
“Just so long as no one recognizes me. Although, if I’m framed for killing Alex, you could make a killing with the tourists. I’m sure there’s a market for that sort of art. Come to think of it, that could be a strong motivation for wanting to frame me.”