by Zara Keane
Julie’s phone rang the instant she climbed on board. When she looked at the display, she groaned. “Please don’t let this be another substitute teacher mess-up.”
When my cousin moved to the other side of the boat to take her call, I regarded the pile of suitcases at Noreen’s side and chuckled. “We’re there for less than forty-eight hours. You guys have brought enough stuff for a month’s vacation.”
“We need options, especially now that you and Julie have brought companions along. You need to dress the part.” Noreen lowered her voice. “I do hope Günter makes an effort with his appearance. I had a word with him last night. This is his chance to impress Julie and turn a fake date into the real deal.”
I glanced over at Günter, who was leaning against the rail and laughing at something Reynolds had said. The German was a good-looking guy, even with his wild hair and beard. “Günter’s fine as he is. Don’t try to change him. And please stop with the matchmaking. You’ll make Julie run.”
“I’ll try to keep it under control, but I promised Philomena I’d do my best. She’d love to see Julie settled.”
“Speaking of Philomena, where is she?” I scanned the pier, but there was no sign of my aunt or uncle. “It’s not like her to be late.”
“Oh, she’s not coming. She and John have a sixtieth birthday party to attend.”
I laughed. “Did Huff scare her off?”
“My sister’s made of tougher stuff than that buffoon,” Noreen said with feeling. “No, the party plans were already made, and Philomena didn’t want to back out.”
“If you don’t like Huff, why were you so insistent that we go to this party?”
“For Helen’s sake. Her son can go and jump in the ocean and swim back to America for all I care.” Noreen’s hard expression softened. “Like I said last night, Mammy would have wanted us to make Helen welcome, and that’s what I’ll do.”
Julie marched over to us, red-faced and still clutching her phone. “Honestly. My boss knew I was away this weekend.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Problem at work?”
“Cormac forgot to arrange a substitute for this morning’s Beginner Irish class. Somehow he thinks it’s my fault.” My cousin blew out her cheeks. “I asked for this weekend off well before the Huffingtons made their plans.”
“How are the Saturday morning classes going?”
Julie rolled her eyes. “A disaster. The classes were Cormac’s brainchild. He thought it was a great way to earn extra money for the school during the tourist season. Unfortunately, we have a small staff, and few of us are keen on giving up part of our weekends. Officially, the Beginner Irish class is taught by Oisin and me. We’re each supposed to work every other Saturday. In reality, I’m landed with three or four Saturdays a month because Oisin always has sporting events. It’s not fair.”
“And because Oisin is his son, the school principal takes his side,” I finished.
“Exactly.” Julie shoved a stray auburn curl behind her ear. “Anyway, let’s forget about it. I want to enjoy the weekend and not dwell on work. Besides—” she flashed me a wicked grin, “—you need to tell us when you and Reynolds became an item.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that Reynolds and I weren’t an item—at least, not yet—but I held my tongue. While we hadn’t had an opportunity to discuss the situation, I knew he needed me to stay silent about the true state of our relationship. As for Julie, she was giving Günter a pointed cold shoulder, but he appeared to be indifferent to her icy treatment.
The boat’s horn saved me from answering Julie’s question. A moment later, we were off and powering out to sea in the direction of Gull Island. Reynolds sidled over to us and deftly maneuvered me away from the others. We strolled down the deck at a casual pace—or as casual as one could be when a strong Atlantic wind hit the deck.
When we were out of earshot, Reynolds’s grip around my waist relaxed. “Thanks for playing along last night. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to you alone since then.”
The memory of his kiss made my heart beat a little faster. I took a deep breath of salty sea air and aimed for cool, calm, and semi-collected. “Don’t worry about it. I guessed it was about Jimmy Wright’s murder, and my hunch was cemented when you didn’t return to the cottages last night.”
Oh, ouch. Had I just admitted I’d waited up for him? When he hadn’t returned by two o’clock in the morning, I’d given up and gone to bed.
“I stayed over at Günter’s new place.” Reynolds rubbed his freshly shaven jaw, drawing my attention to his strong hands. “I was pretty sure none of the Huffingtons had seen me yet, and I wanted to use that to my advantage.”
“Who’s looking after your cat?”
Reynolds’s expression lit up at the mention of the kitten he’d rescued last winter. She was part of the same litter as Sukey and Felix. “I heard on the Whisper Island rumor mill that Miss Flynn and Miss Murphy were looking after Bran and your cats for the weekend. I asked if they’d be willing to take mine as well.”
“What have you discovered?” I asked, curious to know why Reynolds was desperate to spend the weekend with the Huffingtons. “Did Helen visit her nephew before he died? Or did Huff?”
“They say not. Sergeant O’Shea questioned Helen and Huff on Thursday, but new information has come to light since then. I decided to trade on our acquaintance in the hope of snagging an invitation to this weekend’s shindig on Gull Island. I apologize for ambushing you like that.” A slow smile spread across his face, revealing his barely there dimples. “Can’t say I didn’t enjoy our first kiss, even if I’d have chosen for it to happen under other circumstances.”
My cheeks burned, and I cursed myself for blushing like a teenager. “I didn’t expect it to happen in front of half of Whisper Island.”
“Neither did I.” His grin widened. “But I liked it.”
So had I. Far more than was good for me. I cleared my throat. Time to focus on a topic that didn’t involve getting hot and bothered by the sergeant. “Does the new info you’ve discovered implicate Helen or Huff? When I spoke to Helen about Jimmy, she swore she barely knew him.”
Reynolds snorted. “Define ‘barely.’ Jimmy worked for her company for five years during the Eighties. I don’t know how much contact they’ve had since he moved back to Ireland, but they definitely knew each other then.”
I digested this information. “Why did Helen try to give me the impression they didn’t? She didn’t outright deny knowing her nephew, but she made it sound like they’d never met because she hadn’t been back to Whisper Island since she emigrated.”
“That’s not true.” His mouth twisted into a frown. “Well, maybe the part about Helen not returning to Ireland before this summer. However, Jimmy spent several summers with the Huffingtons when he was a kid, and Helen paid for him to go to college in the U.S. After he graduated, she hired him to work for her company.”
“Wow. That’s a lot more than a bare acquaintance.” I recalled the flash of fear I’d picked up during my conversation with Helen last night. It had been gone so fast that I could have imagined it, but I didn’t think so. “Why would she downplay her connection to Jimmy?”
“That’s one of the many questions I’d like to pose to her and her son.” Reynolds’s jaw tightened. “The district superintendent warned me to tread carefully with such influential suspects.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
I felt his pain. I’d been there, more than once, during my time on the force back in San Francisco. “Same old story everywhere. Money doesn’t talk, it roars.”
“Pretty much.” He stretched his neck from side to side and leaned against the railing. “Not that the friendly warning will stop me from doing my duty.”
“I didn’t think it would. That’s why you’re a good cop.” My gaze drifted over the sea, and I sifted through the new information Reynolds had shared with me. “Did the Huffingtons deny knowing Jimmy when Sergeant O’Shea questioned them? It seems foolish if
they did. They have to know that sort of info can easily be checked.”
“They didn’t deny that Jimmy had worked for them, but they didn’t volunteer the information, either. O’Shea had to confront them with it, and then they were vague about the details. He had the feeling they were holding something back.”
The unspoken implication hung in the air—if even the incompetent Sergeant O’Shea thought the Huffingtons were prevaricating, the situation stank.
“Helen and Huff knew Jimmy, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re connected to his murder. Have you found a concrete link?”
“Nothing definite, but I’m working on it. Whatever about Helen, Huff had motive and opportunity.” Reynolds leaned closer, and his warm breath tickled my ear. “Last year, he and Jimmy fell out over money. Apparently, Huff persuaded Jimmy to invest in the Whisper Island Hotel.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? I understood the only owners of the hotel were Paul Greer’s parents and their infamous silent investor, whom we now know is Huff Huffington.”
“Exactly. Huff told Jimmy that he’d be the investor on paper due to his reputation as a businessman, but he’d pay Jimmy his fair share of the profits.”
“So that’s what the bank statements under the floor boards were about.” I screwed up my nose. “The whole idea reeks. Why did Jimmy go along with the plan?”
“He trusted his cousin, I guess.” Reynolds shrugged. “Maybe they were close as kids.”
I thought of the photo on Jimmy’s nightstand. Close enough for Huff to ask Jimmy to be a godfather to one of his kids? “How much money did Jimmy give Huff?”
“Two hundred thousand euros,” Reynolds replied. “A drop in the ocean in comparison to what Huff paid the Greers, but the money represented Jimmy’s life savings.”
“Wow. What went wrong? Did Huff rip off Jimmy?”
“That’s what Jimmy felt.” A line appeared between Reynolds’s brows. “According to his email records, the man claimed that the payouts he received last year were much lower than they should have been. Huff brushed him off with excuses, but a cursory glance at the paper trail indicates Jimmy was right to feel resentful.”
“Do you have evidence that they met in the time between Huff arriving on Whisper Island and Jimmy’s murder?”
“I’m waiting for forensics to get back to me on that.” His frown lines deepened. “I’m not hopeful that a man as clever as Huff Huffington will have left fingerprints or his DNA all over a crime scene for us to find.”
“Unless he killed Jimmy in a fit of temper,” I mused. “Huff’s a bully.”
“Yes, but he’s a bully who has the smarts to clean up after himself.”
“That’s true,” I conceded with a sigh. “What are you hoping to discover this weekend?”
“I’m not expecting him to confess to murder, but I’m hoping that he, or one of the others, will let something relevant slip. And if my source on the mainland comes through with the goods—” his expression turned serious, “—then I’ll call for backup and make an arrest.”
“What’s your gut telling you?” I asked. “Do you think Huff did it?”
Reynolds nodded. “My gut says yes, but I have no proof, just a feeling, and a feeling’s not going to stand up in court.”
I turned my back on the sea and stretched my arms along the railings. “Let’s turn this around for a sec. If Huff ripped off Jimmy, wouldn’t Jimmy be the one with a grudge strong enough to kill Huff and not the other way around?”
“I’ve thought about that. I’ve also considered the possibility that Jimmy attacked Huff, and Huff killed Jimmy in self-defense.”
“Huff’s a lot bigger than Jimmy,” I said. “It wouldn’t have been a fair fight.”
“There’s also Dr. Reilly’s opinion, backed up by the pathologist, that Jimmy hadn’t been in a physical fight before he died. He showed no signs of having punched someone or defending himself against an attack. Whoever killed Jimmy took him by surprise.”
“What about the gash on his head? Could that have been inflicted before he fell?”
“The pathologist doesn’t think so. He said the wound was consistent with Jimmy striking his head against the ground when he fell. The straw in that part of the barn was sparse, and not sufficient to cushion a blow.”
I stretched my neck back, and the wind whipped my ponytail into my mouth.
Laughing, Reynolds helped me to disentangle myself from my hair. “Your hair’s getting long.”
“I know. I need a cut, but I’ve been too busy to find a stylist.”
“I like it.” Reynolds moved close enough for me to smell his subtle aftershave. “The longer look suits you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “We’re supposed to be a pretend couple, remember?” Even if a huge part of me wanted us to be the genuine article…
Reynolds tugged on a strand of my curly red hair and extended it to its full length before letting it spring back. “Pity. When did you say your divorce from G.I. Joe will be official?”
I burst into laughter. “G.I. Joe? Seriously, if you met him, you’d never call him that. Think designer suit and handmade Italian loafers, not military gear.”
Reynolds’s eyebrow shot up. “Kind of like Doug Huffington?”
“Same slick lines, but physically more like Doug’s older brother, Amb. Doug’s got more muscle than Joe.”
“Does he indeed?” Reynolds teased. “Have you been checking him out?”
“I had to sit next to him at dinner on Thursday. His muscles were kind of hard to miss.” I scrunched up my nose. “So was his massive ego and inability to take no for an answer.”
Reynolds’s eyebrows shot up. “Has he been hassling you?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. He’s just full of himself and thinks all women will fall at his feet. And with his family’s money, I’d guess most do.”
“If you’re sure. Any problems with him this weekend, you let me know.”
I gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
“Tell me about the rest of the Huffington clan,” Reynolds prompted. “Just your observations.”
I thought for a moment. “I like Helen, but I don’t trust her.”
“She certainly did her best to mislead you.” He chuckled. “O’Shea dismissed her as a harmless old lady.”
“She’s a harmless old lady with claws. She didn’t turn her late husband’s business into the success story it became without possessing a ruthless streak. Of all the family, she’s the only one who has any influence over Huff.”
“Yeah. I hear he’s a difficult character.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Excluding Helen, he delights in controlling his family and belittling them. Doug and Brandi get off reasonably lightly, but the others come in for a regular battering.”
“What’s the older son like?” he asked. “He wasn’t at the café last night, so all I’ve got to go on is info I gleaned from the internet.”
“I get the impression that he’s ruled by his wife, and they’re both ruled by his father. He’s a weak-willed sort of guy. Not as good-looking as his father and brother, and he lacks the shark instinct needed in high-stakes business. However, I’m willing to bet he has more brains than his father gives him credit for.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just a hunch. I haven’t spoken to him at length, or away from his father, but I can rectify that this weekend.”
“What about his wife?” Reynolds asked.
“Candace? She can be friendly when she finds a common enemy with you and forgets to be a snob.”
He grinned. “You don’t like her.”
“No, but I like her better than Huff’s wife, Brandi.”
“The one who looks like a younger version of Dolly Parton?”
“Dolly’s got more class,” I said. “Brandi is a trophy wife, and she dresses in the fashions men found sexy back in the Eighties. I doubt that’s an accident.”
Reynolds took out his
phone and opened his notes app. “What about Martha? No one seems to know anything about her, except that she’s over thirty and unmarried, which is apparently worth mentioning.”
I rolled my eyes. “Martha Huffington dresses like a spinster out of a Fifties novel. She’s the victim of a lifetime of her father’s misogynistic remarks and putdowns. If she has a personality, she’s learned to hide it well.”
His brow creased. “This whole business is a mess. I’m annoyed at my superintendent warning me to treat the Huffingtons with kid gloves, but I understand he’s feeling the heat from above. The higher-ups don’t want a wealthy investor implicated in a murder.”
“That’s total garbage.”
“Of course it is.” Reynolds grimaced. “I had to pull strings and trade favors to get a look at Huff’s financial records.”
“Given the sums involved, I can’t imagine Jimmy Wright’s two hundred grand made much difference to Huff.”
“No, but if the two had a falling out, there might be more to it than just money.”
“That’s true, but what?”
“That’s what I hope to find out between now and Sunday.” Reynolds shifted his weight and straightened. “We’re almost at Gull Island. We’d better join the others.”
9
GULL ISLAND WAS EVEN MORE BREATHTAKINGLY beautiful than I remembered. It had the same steep, jagged cliffs as Whisper Island, but that was where the similarities ended. I leaned over the railing to get a better look. “It truly is gorgeous. I’d forgotten about the purple-gray rocks and the old ruins at the center.”
My cousin stood beside me at the railing. “Most of the island is covered in a rock surface not unlike that of the Burren in County Clare. I take my school kids out here every year to go for a hike up to the ruins of the medieval monastery. It’s exercise and a history lesson rolled into one.”
“Smart.” I strained my neck back to take another peek at the top of the cliffs, but we were too close to the rocks for me to get a good look.
Reynolds moved to my free side and placed his hand on the small of my back. Despite the T-shirt separating his palm from my skin, an involuntary tingle ran through my body. For a moment, I forgot to breathe.