by P. Creeden
The crewman nodded, and they started down the steps.
Emma gripped the leather leash in her fist and started down the metal stairs to the deck below. Colby opened the door for her as they headed into the crowded play area where many of the dogs had been let loose from their owners to be allowed free time. Barking ensued while owners spoke loudly to one another over the din. The captain of the ship and his crew members spotted Colby right away and headed over toward him. The captain’s brow furrowed. “Is there anything more that we can do? I know that crew mates would like to clean up the top deck before any rain, and we’d also like to head back to port if that’s okay?”
Colby glanced at the digital time on his smartphone then lifted a brow at the captain. “How far are we from port, time-wise?”
“Just a little shy of an hour.”
Colby nodded. “Start heading back. And the crew mates may clean up the top deck, but stick to the port side, and stay away from the starboard, so that if this turns out to be a crime scene, any clues stay as uncontaminated as possible.”
The captain’s frown deepened. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, actually. I need to question the two people who were with the victim, but it’s too noisy in here. Is there someplace quieter?”
The captain nodded and pointed to a door at the other end of the enclosed portion of the ship. “You can use the staff manager’s office. It’s the one with the sign that says, ‘employees only.’”
Over by the dog play area, both the cameraman and the man in the brown suit stood together, nervously glancing their direction. When Colby approached them, the brown suited man stood and came closer. “Thank you for jumping in before and rescuing our Melinda. Do you know if she’s going to be all right?”
Colby’s jaw tensed and his brow twitched as he answered, “She’s stable for now, but unconscious.”
Emma’s heart clenched in her chest as she read her crush’s tells. Colby had lied.
Chapter Five
“I’m not one hundred percent convinced that this isn’t more than an accident, but we need to be sure,” Colby said to Emma quietly as they stood just outside the staff manager’s office. He swallowed and looked both directions. “For now, come with me and watch the culprit’s response. I’ll be introducing you as part of the sheriff’s department in Ridgeway, just as I am, so go along with it.”
Emma nodded, eyes wide. Colby had always been one of the most honest people around, but this would be the second lie he’d told in such a short period of time. She swallowed hard. He had to have good reason, so she just needed to trust him. After taking a deep breath, they entered the room where the brown-suited man and the cameraman both sat on one side of the wooden table. The man in the suit stood. “What is going on? Why are we being questioned if this is an accident?”
Colby shook his head and motioned for the man to sit back down. “If nothing else, you both are witnesses. We will need to see the footage you all recorded and get your personal statements about what exactly happened.”
The man’s jaw tensed as he sat back down on the bench slowly. Colby motioned for Emma to have a seat while he also sat. Gabby, ever stalwart, already sat at his feet, ready to work whenever Colby demanded it from her. As Emma sat on the bench opposite from the men being questioned, she gave Molly the silent commands to sit, but the Saint Bernard just stood, tail wagging, wanting to see the men on the other side of the table. With a gentle tug on the leash and a tap at the base of her tail with Emma’s finger, Emma made her command just a little stronger, but still silent. Molly complied and sat her haunches down. Colby showed both of the suspects that his phone was set to record the conversation before sitting down.
“Let’s start with defining your relationship with the victim,” Colby offered and then nodded to them both. He pushed a pad and pen in Emma’s direction. “Your names for the record?”
Emma picked up the pen and prepared to take notes.
“I’m John Truman, producer of the slice-of-life segment for News on the Potomac, and this is our cameraman, Sean Rockfort.” The man in the brown suit gestured toward the younger man holding a camera with a red ball cap pulled low over his eyes.
Colby nodded. “Did either of you know the victim well?”
They both nodded, and then Mr. Truman leaned with both hands on the table. “Melinda is a hard woman. You were either on her good side or her bad side, any given day. And if she was feeling especially moody, you might end up on both in one day.”
Emma frowned. “That doesn’t sound like a very nice description.”
The man in the brown suit lifted a brow. “She wasn’t, what anyone would call, a very nice person.”
Emma blinked at that, holding the pen poised so it was ready to write something down, but she remained unsure what to write but their names. Colby cleared his throat. “So, the victim had a lot of people who didn’t like her very much, then?”
The man shrugged. “You could say that.”
“How about you, John? Did you like Melinda?” Colby asked, point blank.
A distinct twitch shimmied the man’s brow as he forced his smile to remain in place. “Not particularly.”
“Did you not like her enough to kill her?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “Murder? Are you asking if I could murder Melinda?” He blinked. “No. There’s no way I would stoop low enough to kill her. I wouldn’t ruin my life in that kind of way. It’s bad enough the woman ruined my brother’s life. I wouldn’t dare let her ruin mine like that.”
Colby chewed his bottom lip for a half-moment before asking, “What do you mean exactly? What kind of relationship did the victim have with your brother?”
Mr. Truman’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “They dated, briefly... or had an affair, I should say. My brother is married.”
Emma barely contained a gasp as she wrote down what she heard and kept herself from peering up at the men as they spoke. Suspects being questioned about delicate matters were better off forgetting she was there so they could share pertinent info with the deputy.
“And what happened to your brother?” Colby asked, leading him to continue.
“He and his wife are currently separated. Last night, his wife tried to commit suicide. They have a daughter less than a year old...” Mr. Truman’s voice cracked. “It’s a terrible thing. Anita is in the hospital now, too, fighting for her life.”
The man had gotten choked up and didn’t seem able to continue for a moment. Emma peered up in time to see him swipe his hands at his eyes. The camera man had remained silent the whole time, and from her now seated position, Emma was able to see that his eyes were wide and fixed on the table in front of him as though he was just as distraught as the man talking.
Colby let out a slow breath. “Then it seems you may have a motive if it turns out that foul play was involved in this accident.”
The man gasped, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “No way. I told Melinda I wanted to talk to her after the shoot. Talk. I’m not a violent man. There’s no way I’d hurt her like that. Besides, that would give Sean more of a motive than me.”
Emma frowned as Colby asked, “What do you mean?”
“Anita is Sean’s sister.”
The hairs on Emma’s arms stood on end as goose flesh rose on her skin. Sean had stayed quiet the whole time, but suddenly looked up and shook his head. “No, don’t let him pin this on me. I just run the camera. You can check the recording on it. I wasn’t anywhere near her at the time. There was no way that I pushed her off the boat.”
Colby gestured for the man to sit. “Stay calm. No one is accusing anyone of pushing the victim off the boat. Both Emma and I were on the deck when the incident happened. We know there was no one within ten feet of the victim at the time when she fell. It didn’t seem that anyone pushed her. But we did find that the door on that section of the ship’s railing appears to be tampered with. We’d like to find out who tampered with the gate and who is r
esponsible for the confetti gun.”
“Huh,” Mr. Truman huffed and looked toward the cameraman. “I’m not usually one to go around snitching on others, but it would be bound to come out, regardless. I’m sorry, but I overheard you talking about it. The confetti cannon was set up by Sean. He’s the one who set it to go off right then.”
Sean’s face turned beet red as he shook his head. “It was a joke. She wasn’t supposed to fall overboard. She was supposed to fall toward the camera, face first. She’s just so full of herself, and mean. My sister’s in the hospital, and Melinda didn’t so much as apologize for her part in that situation. She didn’t care. I wanted to embarrass her on camera, that’s all. I didn’t expect her to fall overboard or get hurt. I just wanted her to get surprised for a moment and lose her composure on camera.”
His words rang true, and the man wrung his hands in front of him on the table. It explained his inability to make eye contact since the situation started, but now his pleading eyes were fixed on Colby. Colby frowned. “How did you get access to the remote?”
The man shook his head again, but this time, his gaze didn’t shift at all. “I didn’t have access to the remote. This slice-of-life segment was my idea. I’d set it up from the start, the Canine Cruise was my idea, because my cousin, Gerald, is one of the crew members who sets up the displays. He showed me how I could point the cannon and how to set it off with a timer. I had it set to go off at exactly 1:30 pm. It didn’t take much to make sure that Melinda was in front of the camera and the canon at that time. But, again, I didn’t intend for her to get hurt. It was just a childish practical joke, and one I regret wholeheartedly.”
Colby’s jaw tensed, his green eyes met Emma’s for a moment before returning to the cameraman’s. “You are claiming that the whole thing was just a practical joke then? Nothing else?”
Sean’s eyes were wide. “Nothing else, I swear. I didn’t mean for Melinda to be hurt.”
The Adam’s apple in Colby’s neck bobbed up and down as he swallowed and met Emma’s eyes again. She shrugged slightly enough for Colby to see, but hoped that the gentleman across the table wouldn’t. Then Colby slid his gaze back to the two across the table. “Don’t go anywhere when this ship meets port. Either of you. The Fairfax County Sheriff’s office has already been appraised of the situation, and will want you both for further questioning in this. If Melinda dies, it makes no difference whether it was an accident or not, Mr. Rockfort. You’ll be looking at being charged with at least manslaughter.”
The color drained from Sean Rockfort’s face as his gazed dropped to his hands.
Colby let out a slow breath. “And I’m going to need to see this video.”
Chapter Six
The blast of the confetti canon on the video recorder made Emma jump almost as much as she did when the incident had happened on the top deck. But what she realized as she watched the footage was that it had taken her more by surprise than it had Melinda, the reporter. It wasn’t the pop that had made Melinda jump back, but the force of air from the gun pushing her toward the gate behind her, which had been unlatched, but still sat in place. So, Emma was unable to tell that there was anything wrong with the gate or that it was ajar in any way.
“Watch out!” a male voice yelled in the distance behind the camera, just before Melinda touched the gate and fell through the open hole. Her scream filled the air before she and her red dress disappeared over the edge.
Then the camera shot the floor of the deck as another voice yelled, “She can’t swim!” just before the camera cut off.
Colby looked up at the two men sitting across the table from him. “Who yelled, ‘watch out?’”
Both Sean and John looked at each other in confusion. Then they both looked back and shrugged. Sean answered, “I’m not really sure. I can’t remember. It all happened so fast.”
“I was in too much shock,” John said with a frown, “I can’t say it wasn’t me.”
Colby’s brow furrowed. “It’s hard to tell from the camera footage, but it would be good to know which of you did yell it. Could you both think a little harder, focus and try to remember?”
They both did, but to no avail. Neither of them could recall which had said it. It was an important piece of information in Emma’s opinion, since the person who said it might have known that the gate was ajar. Then again, they may have just meant for her to not get to close to the railing in the first place. Emma wondered if she might just be reading too much into the situation. Perhaps she was trying too hard to find a clue that would point to the culprit, when it seemed obvious that the culprit had been Sean, who set up a practical joke that went horrifyingly wrong.
“Well, I’d prefer if you both remain here in the manager’s office until we reach shore.” Colby met eyes with both of them, and they each nodded in turn.
Then Colby turned and ushered Emma and Molly out of the room, closing the door behind all four of them. He leaned toward her. “Something didn’t seem right about that video. Come on. Follow me upstairs, and we’ll talk about it at the scene.”
Emma nodded and followed.
Overhead, the gray clouds shifted, but the rain continued to hold off. The shoreline moved by quickly as the cruise ship continued up the Potomac, back to port. Emma stood on the top deck, seeing that the crew had cleared the left side of the ship, but didn’t touch anything near where the accident had occurred. Everything remained as Colby and she had left it. And the metal gate continued to bang against the latch in the wind. Had it been windy earlier? She stepped close to the gate. “Do you think there will be fingerprints on the gate?”
Colby pushed his cap further on his head as he fought the wind. “I doubt it. The culprit wouldn’t be dumb enough to do that, I’d think. He’d be more likely to step on the catch and then grab hold of the gate with his jacket sleeve. That’s how I would do it.”
“Like this?” Emma pulled her jacket sleeve down and grabbed hold of the other side of the metal gate. She pulled it over toward her, stepped on the latch lightly and then set it up so that it was flush with the rest of the rail across, but not completely latched. She stepped back from it. “It looks like it’s latched, doesn’t it?”
With a grim frown, Colby nodded. He stepped forward, covering his hand with the long sleeve of his ruby shirt and then lightly shoving on the gate. It flew open with barely a push. “It doesn’t take much pressure for the gate to fly open, either, in this state.”
“I wondered two things again as we watched the video,” Emma said, rubbing her hands into the fur on Molly’s head to warm them. “The person who yelled ‘watch out’ couldn’t have been talking about this gate unless he knew it would fly open and either wanted the reporter to avoid it, or he wanted to keep himself from being implicated in the ‘accident.’”
“That seems about right,” Colby said, wrapping and unwrapping his leather leash around his hand in a nervous habit. “But neither of the men would admit to saying it or point the finger at the other. Do you think it’s possible that they both are in on this?”
Emma did a half-shrug and a half-shake of the head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so though. Otherwise, why would John tell us about the practical joke at all?”
After a moment of quiet as the wind blew about them, Colby asked, “What was the second thing?”
She blinked at him. “Second thing?”
“You said there were two things you noticed after watching the video.”
“Oh!’ She stopped for a minute, looking up at him sheepishly before continuing, “I’m not sure if it’s anything at all. It might be just me reading into it.”
“Go ahead and tell me what you saw, and we’ll decide if it’s just you or if you see something worth taking note of.”
She nodded. “It’s just that the reporter had this look on her face right when the confetti cannon went off. It was like an ‘I got you look.’ It gave me the impression that the canon didn’t surprise her at all, like maybe she even expected it.”
His eyes went wide as he nodded. “I think you’re right. I got the same impression.”
Relief prickled across Emma’s skin. “Then I think I know who the culprit is, and it’s not both of them.”
Chapter Seven
Emma and Colby stood in front of the two in the manager’s office, ready to attempt to get a confession out of the culprit. Emma stood at the doorway of the office holding both Gabby’s and Molly’s leashes, blocking the escape should the culprit attempt to leave the room. Emma could never do it on her own, but Colby had told her the commands to get Gabby to both growl or attack if necessary. She replayed those words in her head a few times so she wouldn’t forget them.
“After going through the evidence,” Colby said, setting his phone on the table in front of the two men again to record the conversation, “We’ve determined that this accident was indeed staged and malicious—premeditated murder.”
The two men’s mouths dropped open, and the color drained from Sean’s face. He shook his head emphatically. “I promise that it was just a joke. I didn’t intend for Melinda to get hurt or fall over the edge of the railing. I had no idea that the gate was open or faulty. My cousin can back me up on this. The cannon didn’t even shoot in the direction it was supposed to. Somehow it was in front of her instead of behind her. If anything, she should have tripped forward, face-first into the camera, not backward. And the cannon was set on high. Neither I nor Gerald set it on high.”
Colby lifted a brow. “I believe you, Mr. Rockfort.”
The cameraman blinked and leaned back in his chair, his brow suddenly furrowing. “Then what do you mean?”
“We believe that the victim knew about the practical joke. She intended to play it off and not act surprised at all. You wanted her to lose her composure, but instead, she intended to use it to her advantage, and prove to you that she was not the jumpy woman you thought she was.”