Permanent Sunset

by C. Michele Dorsey

  Would one of the island cops steal an expensive diamond necklace during a search? Lee Janquar wouldn’t. Sabrina didn’t think Lucy Detree would either, from what she had observed of her. The cops who had helped solve Carter Johnson’s murder months before had seemed honest. But Sabrina believed Hodge and the crew who had basically looted the Villa Nirvana wedding feast, including the liquor and wedding cake, were capable of stealing from guests. But she knew that, in this case, they hadn’t and that the necklace Lisa was concerned about was sitting in the pocket of her shorts. She wanted to tell Lisa not to worry, the necklace was safe with her, but couldn’t and felt the weight of one piece of jewelry was more than she could bear. She needed to get rid of it and fast.

  “I don’t know, Lisa. There could be a lot of explanations for where the necklace is. But for now, what’s important is that you and I get as far away from Villa Nirvana and Detective Hodge as fast as we can.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Neil sat in the booth at Bar None that he had claimed as his office. With the rattan shades drawn down, he could escape both the late afternoon sun and the curiosity of his patrons. Visitors to St. John seemed to have endless interest about what it was like to live on an island. He’d fielded enough questions since he’d moved there. Now he had some of his own. What exactly was he doing, living on St. John? Had he chosen the road less traveled only to find himself heading back to the path he’d jumped off?

  He had enjoyed his day with David. Even the first slightly rocky landing David had made in the harbor in Charlotte Amalie had been fun. Planning their trip to San Juan to explore Elena’s past had exhilarated Neil. Adventure, was that what he needed? Was the peace and tranquility he sought in St. John extinguishing his sense of spirit?

  He caught sight of Sean Keating entering Bar None through the cracks in the rattan shades. He was glad all his bartenders were back so that he didn’t have to worry about staffing the bar while the murder at Villa Nirvana was still under investigation.

  Neil lifted the shade and motioned Sean to come over. Sean looked like he had aged a decade in the past thirty-six hours.

  “How did it go over at Villa Nirvana?” Neil asked.

  “Seriously, I thought the cops in LA were jerks.” Sean summarized what had happened, including the mass exodus after a unified demand for counsel.

  “Good job,” Neil said, calling over for Mitch to bring them a couple of St. John Brewers Amber Jacks.

  “Look, Neil, the truth is I do need a lawyer. You warned me how this could go, and seeing how ruthless Hodge and his so-called team are, I’m totally convinced. I’m also not sure what’s been going on in my family and in the family business in particular.” Sean accepted a mug of beer from Mitch and took a swig.

  “Nice,” he said.

  “Local microbrewery. Now tell me what you mean about the family and family business.”

  “I’m not really sure. But since Elena passed, it feels like Gavin has started to take over the whole operation. He’s making decisions on his own, claiming that he’s trying to be sensitive to my loss, and pretty much ignoring my father and Paul. He’s hell-bent on the company’s reputation not being affected by Elena’s murder. It’s just so cold-blooded.”

  “Did he and Elena get along?”

  “Sure. Gavin was the one who hired Elena, so of course she liked him. She said she admired what she called Gavin’s ‘savage business savvy.’ He never let emotions stand in the way of business decisions. She told me I should develop a sense of detachment instead of being so hotheaded. The only time I saw them disagree about anything big was about the prenup,” Sean said, taking another gulp of beer. “Damn, this is good. Can I have another?”

  Neil leaned over and called to Mitch again, asking for a refill for Sean only. He was meeting Sabrina in a half hour and needed to pace his drinking, plus he had a full day tomorrow.

  “Sean, what do you know about Elena’s life as a kid in San Juan, other than the part about being poor and the explosion?” Neil asked.

  “Nothing. She didn’t like to talk about it. Once when we were in San Juan on business, I asked her if she’d like to show me the caserio and talk a little about what it was like for her when she lost everyone in the explosion and fire. I asked about the friend she was doing the school project with and if they kept in contact.”

  “Did they?” Neil asked.

  “No. All Elena said was that her friend had been like an angel to her. I pressed a little more. I wanted to be sensitive about how different her childhood and mine were. She had come to the house where I grew up in Tiburon, where my parents still live. She had met them socially and spent some holidays there. I felt a little bad there was nothing left of her family to share with me.”

  “Did she open up?”

  “No. I even talked a little about what it was like to grow up in a family where a bitter divorce caused constant hard feelings. I told her how Gavin had been jealous of me and even of Heather because we got to live with his father. How he would lie and try to get me in trouble for the things he did and when he got caught would complain to his mother, which meant my mother got involved. I thought Elena might feel better if she didn’t think we had been the perfect family and would understand that I didn’t mind if hers hadn’t been either. But it didn’t work. She told me the past was the past and I should just move on like she had.”

  “That’s kind of interesting. The guy encouraging the woman to talk about her feelings.” Neil considered what a profound effect Elena had had on Sean.

  “Elena was different from any other woman I ever dated, Neil. She changed how I thought about everything—business, marriage, family, sex, love. I want to know who did this to her and why. I don’t want this story to become the next national spectacle broadcast on Fox News. That much I agree with Gavin on. I hope you can find some answers tomorrow.”

  “I do, too, Sean. I really do. I hesitate to ask the most difficult question, but you know I am a straight shooter. Do you have any question in your mind that someone in your own family who was at Villa Nirvana that night might have killed Elena?”

  “No, not at all. Three of them are older people, ready to retire, who just wanted to see me happy. Heather is my sister and a chiropractor. She loves me and is a healer. No way she would do this. Lisa doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. Even Gavin would never risk the business by getting involved in something criminal.”

  Neil looked out through the slats in his blinds and noticed a couple sitting at the bar, deep in conversation.

  “Well, maybe he won’t go so far as to commit a crime, but from here it looks like he’s willing to sleep with the enemy. I suggest you slip out of my office through the rear door here. It seems your half brother is being interviewed at the bar by an INN reporter. That means Faith Chase is on the story.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sabrina rushed past the road that led to her cottage, knowing there might still be a news crew there. Would she always need to fear and avoid cops and reporters? When she had been a television meteorologist, she interacted with reporters every day. There were some talented and tireless investigative journalists who she admired and with whom she worked side by side in blizzards and hurricanes. But sensational crimes seemed to attract the pond scum of the media, and no crime was more sensational than murder.

  Winding up the dirt road that overlooked Reef Bay, Sabrina realized how much she missed her dog. Girlfriend brought routine and normalcy to her life. Their nightly swims were Sabrina’s favorite part of the day, made even more so when Neil joined them.

  She pulled into the driveway of the Banks’ home, appreciating how the hibiscus hedge was always meticulously trimmed. She respected Evan Banks for not giving in to the Alzheimer’s disease, which was making him slowly slip away. She admired even more how his wife, Lyla, worked to help him hold on.

  Lyla barely had the front door open when Girlfriend leapt to greet Sabrina. Sabrina laughed out loud as the dog kept jumping and landing k
isses on her face and neck. Was there anything better than being loved by a dog?

  “She’s missed you, dear,” Lyla said, stepping back into the house to let Sabrina enter.

  “And we’ll miss her. Any time you need someone to watch her, you know who to call.” Evan gathered Girlfriend’s overnight bag, which Sabrina had filled with food and toys before dropping her off the day of the wedding rehearsal. It was just two days before, but it felt like a month to her.

  “Do you have time for an ice tea?” Lyla asked.

  “I wish I could, but it turns out the bride’s death wasn’t accidental, and it’s created a bit of a mess for Henry and me.” Sabrina wished she could sit and chat over ice tea and not have to worry about how another murder had landed in Ten Villas’ lap.

  “We know. It’s all over the news. I hope you’re not taking it personally,” Lyla said.

  “Don’t listen to that bore. Blaming Ten Villas for poor security is ridiculous. Everything is always someone else’s fault. It’s common knowledge murders are most often committed by family members,” Evan said.

  Sabrina liked it when Evan sounded off. He was such an intelligent man. Alzheimer’s was a cruel disease.

  “Wait, what bore? What are you talking about?” Sabrina realized she hadn’t fully comprehended Evan’s comment.

  “The brother of the groom. He talked about the irony of the tragedy. He said his family was launching a new villa construction business, only to have his brother’s bride murdered the night before her wedding because the villa management company had shoddy security. I’m sorry. If it helps, he sounded like an arrogant prig.”

  Lyla reached over to take Sabrina’s hand in hers. “I hate to add to your burden, Sabrina, but I think you’d better check in on your guests across the street at Villa Mascarpone. The husband came over a little while ago to ask if we had a break-in, too.”

  “A break-in? Just what we need. I’m sorry. Did they have a break-in? Did you?” Sabrina couldn’t imagine what else could creep into this very long and disastrous day.

  “Not with your watchdog. No one would dare come near us with that noble beast on the premises,” Evan said.

  “No, we’re fine. But apparently the Hewitts had a visit from the so-called skinny-dippers and are upset. I hope you don’t mind, but I told them you were coming to pick up Girlfriend and that I’d have you stop by,” Lyla said.

  Sabrina had the irrational urge to tell Lyla that she had no business putting one more item on her plate. She had surpassed her quota for unpleasant tasks for one day, and this next one was well past her limit. Now she would have to put on the Ten Villas smile and voice to calm the Hewitts down. Where was Henry when she needed him? He was the one with the charm and diplomacy, not her. She took a deep breath and bit her tongue, knowing Lyla was the messenger, not the message.

  “Thanks, Lyla. I’ll stop by on my way out. Funny, but I think this is the first time the skinny-dippers have hit a villa that is occupied. I’ve been under the impression they chose unoccupied ones.” Sabrina considered how what had seemed like a series of innocent pranks could become ugly if there was a confrontation with villa guests.

  Sabrina called “Inside” at the periwinkle blue gate before unlatching it and walking to the pool area, where she would never be able to enter without picturing the dead body of a man in the hammock hanging below the pergola. Months had passed since Carter Johnson’s murder, but Sabrina still had nightmares about finding his body and the investigation of the murder, which had almost ended her new life on St. John. Was this second murder a message? Did she not belong here?

  “So glad to see you, Sabrina,” Martin Hewitt said, opening the sliding screen doors that led into the house.

  Sabrina walked past the pool where the signature hibiscus was floating on the surface. In the living room, Vicki Hewitt was sitting in a chair with a half-empty martini glass on the end table next to her. Her expression told Sabrina the skinny-dippers were no longer funny.

  “It’s pretty unsettling to be vacationing in paradise, doing a little shopping at Mongoose Junction, and hear a bride had been murdered the night before her wedding. But then to return to your villa to find a couple of fat naked people climbing out of the pool, well it’s scary,” Vicki’s voice trembled as she downed what was left of her martini.

  “Did you see their faces?” Sabrina asked.

  “That would have been merciful, but no, we only saw their naked butts,” Martin said.

  “I’m so sorry,” Sabrina told them and she was. She could see how the skinny-dippers seemed bizarre at best, but when considered along with the fact a murder had happened on such a small island, the incident could feel frightening.

  Sabrina explained that the anonymous skinny-dippers had been pulling their pranks for a few weeks and were considered harmless, although annoying.

  “Did you report this to the police or shall I?” she asked, relieved to hear the Hewitts had not.

  “I’ll take care of it right away for you. And I’ll have our local locksmith come out and reset the combination on the locks for you. Is there anything else I can do?”

  Having appeased the guests, Sabrina got into her jeep, happy to have Girlfriend riding shotgun again. She pulled away down the steep curve until she found a spot with cell phone reception where she pulled over to make a call. The last number she was going to call was the police.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Henry looked down at his cell phone. The caller ID said Sabrina.

  “I have to take this call,” he told David, who was sitting opposite him, looking at the menu and drinking a frozen painkiller.

  David nodded, immersed in the menu.

  Henry stepped outside the restaurant onto the street so he could hear.

  “Where are you? I can barely hear you,” Sabrina said.

  “At Sushi Sunday at the Longboard. With David. He’s taking me out for dinner. I chose the restaurant.”

  “Oh. Nice.”

  “Not necessarily. David hates sushi,” Henry said.

  “Henry.”

  He recognized that tone his mother used as a warning when he was a kid.

  “He said ‘whatever it takes.’ Besides, he wanted to cook for me at his cottage.”

  “That was nice.”

  “You’ve never eaten his cooking. Plus, I don’t want to see him other than in a public setting. You understand?” Henry wasn’t even sure if he wanted to see David at all, but with the way he’d become insinuated into the investigation, Henry had to be civil.

  “Listen, we’ve got another problem out at Villa Mascarpone, Henry.”

  “Shit. Do not tell me if another person has gotten himself murdered. The body count on this island is already too high.” Henry hated how out of control his life was beginning to feel.

  “Relax, it’s not that bad. But it is unsettling.” Sabrina explained how the skinny-dippers had gone to Villa Mascarpone, even though it was occupied.

  “I get why the Hewitts are upset. I’m a little freaked at this point by these creeps and everything else going on in St. John, aren’t you?” Henry asked.

  “Of course, but it’s bigger than that, Henry. The Hewitts wanted me to report it to the cops. Do you know what would happen if Detective Hodge heard that the skinny-dippers trespassed on one of our properties that was occupied? He’d probably shut down all ten of our villas and we would be out of business. Picture explaining that to our villa owners.” Henry could hear the panic in her voice and was reminded that they wouldn’t be part of this mess if he hadn’t been so adamant about adding Villa Nirvana.

  “What can I do?”

  “Can you get Billy over to change the lock combinations and keys tonight? Tell him we’ll pay double since it’s Sunday,” Sabrina said, signing off.

  Henry made the call to Billy Wiggs, who was more than happy to earn double the money for an easy job, and then returned to the table, where he could see David had started a new painkiller.

  “Everything oka
y?” David asked.

  “Just a little business problem. It’s all set. So how did it go with Neil and Cassie?”

  “Great. It’s a terrific little plane. Larry kept it in great shape. Neil and I took it out and other than the first landing, which was a little rough, I think I’ve got my mojo back. I felt bad for Cassie. You guys are having a rough week here on St. John. But I’m impressed with how everyone seems to pull together on an island.”

  “Yes, we’re a tight community.” Henry closed his menu.

  “Cassie asked me if I’d like to buy Larry’s plane.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I said maybe. Then she said she’d give me a deal if I bought the house with it. She wants to go back to Florida, where her kids and grandkids are.”

  A shiny-faced server with long legs in short shorts named Kayla appeared at the table to take their order.

  Henry ordered a Spicy Island sushi roll.

  “Why don’t we just share the Sashimi Sampler Plate?” David asked.

  “Why would we do that? You’d love the Island Wings they make here. You hate sushi.” Henry said, not sure if he was more thrown by David’s news that Cassie had offered to sell Larry’s plane and their house or by David ordering sushi.

  “Whatever it takes, Henry.” David raised his glass in a toast.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sabrina decided to check her messages before she lost reception.

  “Meet me in the rear parking lot at St. John Car Rental. Do NOT come to Bar None. N.P.”

  Just what she needed. The number of places she couldn’t go on St. John was growing at an alarming rate. Her world couldn’t afford to shrink much smaller. She was already living on an island that was less than three-by-nine miles.

  She drove up the near perpendicular hill that led to the parking lot where Neil was waiting. She grabbed her tote and Girlfriend’s overnight bag from the backseat while Girlfriend peed over by the bushes. She walked over to Neil’s jeep, whistling for Girlfriend as she opened the back passenger door. The dog dove in, rushing toward Neil in the front seat, showering him with kisses on his neck and ears.