by Leona Karr
“Probably Clayton’s night nurse, Linda Nigel.” Even though the lawyer had been discreet, Brad knew Fontaine enjoyed more than a casual relationship with the nurse during his visits. “She comes at bedtime and leaves right after breakfast—most days.” Except when she hangs around to keep Fontaine company.
“Oh, that’s the way it is,” Ashley said as if reading his thoughts.
“I don’t see what Linda would have to gain by trying to scare you enough to have you leave.” He frowned. “Of course, it could have been Ellen or the housekeeper for reasons of their own.”
“Why would my staying and finishing the job matter to anyone?”
“If we knew that, we’d probably know who assaulted your sister,” he answered grimly.
Ashley sighed. “Mrs. Mertz has been snooping around. When I came in the workroom and surprised her, she had some of the trunks and boxes open.”
“Like she was looking for something specific?”
“I don’t know. She claimed that Jonathan had asked her to keep on eye on things.” After a minute, she added “I think Jonathan might have been going over the collection himself. A necklace that his late wife is wearing in a portrait is missing. There may be other personal mementos that he’s removing without anyone noticing.”
“It all ties together somehow.” He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping to ease the frown on her face. “Piece by piece, we’ll make sense of it.”
When they reached the pier, he parked the police car. “Bill’s out in the patrol boat. We’ll use my car this afternoon on the mainland.”
After buying sandwiches and drinks at the ferry’s lunch counter, they sat on the open deck to eat. The wind was brisk and the water choppy. Neither one of them was very talkative, but the silence was a companionable one, and Brad was surprised how pleasant the routine crossing was in her company.
After leaving Ashley at the hospital, he drove about ten miles up the coast to a small resort where a retired police officer had a small home near the water.
Jim Mayberry was a rather stout man who wore comfortable overalls after years in a stiff uniform. He greeted Brad warmly and offered him a cold beer. As they sat on his small porch, they shared some mutual stories about law enforcement before Brad brought up the reason for his visit.
“There’s been an assault on a young woman who was working at the Langdon compound while she organized an old collection of clothes and items for an auction house,” he explained. “Since I’ve been unable to find any motivation in the current situation warranting such an attack, I’ve been wondering if the answer might lie in the past. The history of the Langdon family has some perplexing tragedies.”
Jim nodded. “Well, there were plenty of questions about Samantha Langdon’s accident and not too many answers. It was stormy as hell that night. Pea-soup fog and rain pouring down like it was coming from an open faucet. I was on night duty and had already been called out a half dozen times before the report came in on that accident. As it happened, somebody had seen her car lights miss a sharp curve and go off the road, or we wouldn’t have known about it ’til daylight. Even then, it was too late to do anything. The car was almost entirely submerged, and divers had to bring her body up.”
“She was alone, then?”
He took another deep swig of beer before answering. “Funny thing about that. We tried to backtrack her activities that night but came up empty. We know she drove her car out of the pier parking lot earlier that evening.” Frowning, he stared at his nearly empty bottle. “That’s all we knew—for sure.”
“And what didn’t you know for sure, Jim?”
“Whether or not she was alone.” He stroked his bearded chin. “No other bodies surfaced, but…”
“But?” Brad prodded.
“The person who reported the accident said he had the impression there were two people in the car that night, but only one body surfaced—Samantha Langdon’s. Visibility was so limited in the fog and rain that his statement was dismissed.”
“Is it possible that there could have been someone with her? Someone who made it out of the car and disappeared before the rescue began?”
He nodded. “Twenty-five years ago, we didn’t have the forensic capabilities we have today. I interviewed Samantha Langdon’s personal maid, a young girl named Mary Sandrow who obviously idolized her mistress. I always felt she could have shed some light on who might have been with Samantha that night, but when it came to giving any information, she closed up tighter than a clam.”
“Is she still around?”
“The last I heard Mary Sandrow was living on Minnequa Island. She quit the Langdons right after the funeral. Let’s see, she’d be in her early forties about now.”
“Maybe I’ll pay her a visit.”
Jim offered Brad another beer, but he shook his head. “Thanks a lot, Jim. Enjoy your retirement.”
As he drove back to the hospital to pick up Ashley, his thoughts were centered on the possibility that Samantha Langdon might not have been driving her car when it went off the road. Was it possible some evidence remained in the vintage collection that was forcing the hand of someone who didn’t want the truth to come to light?
ASHLEY COULD TELL Brad was preoccupied when he came into Lorrie’s hospital room. His brow was furrowed, his expression tense; she wondered what had happened to make his thoughts so heavy.
Lorrie was sitting in a chair, sipping a lemonade. Ashley was delighted with her sister’s quick recovery. They’d even taken a short walk down the hall to the visitors’ lounge, and the doctors expected to release her in a day or two.
“That’s great, Lorrie,” Brad said when they told him the good news. “You’re one tough cookie.”
“Now I know what they mean by having a hard head,” she said, laughing.
“I have a few more questions, Lorrie, if you don’t mind answering them.”
“I really haven’t remembered anything more.”
“That’s all right,” he assured her. “I’m just trying to fill in a little background. I was wondering if anyone in particular seemed especially interested in what you were doing in the workroom?”
“Gee, a lot of people kept popping in and out. When I first got there, Jonathan was the one who ordered work-tables set up and made sure all the things in the attic were brought down. Clara helped me get the room organized and moved some things for me when I needed help.”
“Anyone else?”
“Ellen was kind of a pest, wanting to handle everything and I had to stop her from unpacking some of the trunks. At mealtime, Langdon the elder would quiz me, mostly about the market value of the collection. Mr. Fontaine seemed interested in the same thing. He stopped by just to chat a couple of times. I guess his firm handles the Langdon finances. He mentioned an investment they were considering. I didn’t pay much attention.”
“You never found anything missing?” Brad prodded.
Even as Lorrie shook her head, Ashley spoke up. “There was a necklace in an assortment of old jewelry that you photographed, Lorrie, but I couldn’t find it when I made the inventory.”
Ashley described the ornate locket necklace, and Lorrie shook her head. “It should have been with the other pieces if I logged it.”
“I’m sure Samantha Langdon was wearing a necklace like it in a portrait Jonathan has in his study.”
“Maybe he confiscated it for old times’ sake,” Lorrie suggested.
“That’s what I thought,” Ashley agreed. “I could tell Jonathan was hiding his emotions when he talked about his late wife.”
Brad had remained silent during this exchange. Ashley wondered if he was weighing what they were saying as being significant or worthless.
When she asked him, he responded, “Everything in a criminal case is significant. I’m interested in anything connected with the Langdon household, past or present. All the pieces have to fit together somehow.”
“You can’t think the Langdons had anything to do with my attack,” Lorrie
protested. “I came to the island at their request. I was just doing my job.”
“Maybe too well,” he answered crisply.
THE WEATHER had improved during the afternoon, and by the time they docked back at the island’s pier, a lowering sun was shining boldly through dissipating fog. Brad must have read her reluctance to return to the gloomy house and the tedious work awaiting her.
“There’s more to the island than the Langdon compound,” he said casually as they approached the parked police car. “Would you like to see the northeast section where I live? I’d like to show it to you. There’s a nice little community of resident islanders along the shoreline.”
The opportunity to spend some leisure time with him brought a surprising lift to her spirits.
Some of the houses hugging the rocky coast were weathered and bleached, such as the one where Bill Hunskut lived with his widowed mother, others were quite modern, freshly painted white clapboard homes with well-kept yards.
“That’s Dr. Hadley’s place. And this is mine,” Brad said as he turned the car into a short driveway beside a small, steep-roofed stone house facing the ocean. Clumps of grass edged a rock walk leading to the back door, and vegetation hugged the rock exterior. An enthusiastic young Labrador in a dog run dashed about, welcoming him home.
“That’s Rusty,” he told her. “The young pup was abandoned by a summer tourist last July.” His voice softened in a way she hadn’t heard before. “We kinda adopted each other.”
She smiled as she watched him stoop down to accept the dog’s leaping antics and enthusiastic, licking tongue.
“Okay, boy, that’s enough. We’ve got company.”
Laughing at his gyrating tail, Ashley patted the dog’s head. “Nice to meet you, Rusty.”
“He’s ready for his evening walk.” He raised a questioning eyebrow as he looked at Ashley.
“I’m game,” she said.
“Good.”
They took a steep path down to the water’s edge, where huge boulders made deep caverns along the shoreline. As they walked along the edge of the ocean, Brad entertained her with stories of wrecked pirate ships and the treasures supposedly left behind in some of the underground caverns.
“When I was young, I searched all these caves for pirate gold. I nearly got caught once by the incoming tide.” He gave that deep, rumbling laugh of his. “My dad threatened to give me a tanning over that.”
He talked about his mom and dad, and how he worked in the mercantile store until they sold it. By the time they had returned to his house, she realized Brad was no longer just a man dedicated to keeping the law on this misty island, but that it was part of the blood than ran through him. She knew if he ever married, it would have to be to a woman who could find fulfillment in a limited daily life on an island. Goodness, she thought, why did I jump to that idea? I’ve just met the guy.
They were both hungry and tired and she welcomed his suggestion that they drive back to the café and grab a bite to eat before he drove her back to the compound.
Brad pulled into his designated place at the pier when a young fisherman came running over to the car.
“You’d better come, chief,” he said breathlessly. “There’s a fight at Neptune Bar. Sloane’s beating the hell out of some guy.”
“Stay here,” he told Ashley as he left the car. With a long stride he headed for the bar with the fisherman right on his heels.
As Ashley waited, she watched gray twilight bleach all color from the water. A few fishing boats anchored for the night, and a stillness settled on the empty wharf. As the minutes passed and the first spattering of stars dotted the darkening sky, Ashley grew restless.
She got out of the car and walked slowly along the water’s edge for a short distance in the direction Brad had taken. The pub was set back in the trees, away from the shoreline. Even though she glimpsed lights and heard music, the building’s isolation made her decide to turn around and go back to the car.
Before she had taken a dozen steps, she heard heavy breathing behind. She swung around. A disheveled man with blood on his face grabbed her. His eyes stared into hers with fiery hatred as he held a bloody knife inches from her neck.
“One squeak and I’ll gut you like a fish. I know all about you and that sister of yours. Made up all kinds of lies, she did. Set the law on me!”
Sloane!
With the knife still at her throat, he forced her into the trees and down into a marshy gully. Rotting seaweed and rank-smelling water assaulted her nostrils. He threw her to the ground and bent over her with lusty fury.
Her hands clawed the rough ground beneath her as he laughed and pressed her shoulders to the wet ground. The sound of the nearby surf pounding against the granite boulders filled her ears with a deafening roar and drowned out her cries.
“No, no…” she cried as she struggled to get free.
He was laughing drunkenly at her resistance when her fingers found a loose, jagged stone in the wet marsh. The smile was still on his face when she struck him on the side of the head with all her force.
He cried out, stunned.
She scrambled to get away, clawing her way over the jagged pile of rocks. He was after her in an instant, bellowing cuss words as he tried to grab her.
Her feet kept slipping in the soft slimy dirt and seaweed. He almost had her when suddenly he backed off. He turned to run away just an instant before Brad tackled him with a force that sent them both rolling on the ground. The half-drunk Sloane was no match for the pounding fists that landed squarely all over him. Brad cuffed him before the man could recover from the blow that had sent him sprawling on the soggy ground.
“Make another move and I’ll break every blasted bone in your body.”
She whimpered in relief as Brad put his arms around her trembling body. She was coated with mud and slime.
“Are you hurt? We’ll get you to the doctor.”
“No, I’m all right,” she said in a shaky voice. “He didn’t…I mean…nothing…nothing happened.”
She saw the flood of relief in his tense face. “I would have killed the bastard. How’d you get away?”
“Hit him in the head, with a rock. It stunned him a little. If you hadn’t come…” Her voice broke.
“But I did. And you can be damn sure he’ll never bother you again.” He glared down at the prone man as if he were ready to land a thick boot in the middle of Sloane’s stomach.
Deputy Bill came running up to them, out of breath. “I came as soon as I got your page.” His eyes widened as he took in Ashley’s disheveled appearance and Sloane’s drunken body sprawled on the ground. “What happened?”
“Sloane knifed a guy and then fled the saloon,” Brad answered grimly. “The drunken coward was hiding in these rocks when Ashley walked by. He dragged her down in the gully, but she hit him in the head with a rock and got away.”
“Good girl,” Bill said.
“While I’m locking Sloane up and writing up charges, I want you to drive her back to the Langdons’.”
“Sure thing.”
Brad brushed back tangled hair from Ashley’s cheek. “Will you be alright?”
As he put his protective arm around her, she managed to nod. Her pride wouldn’t let her admit that a lingering terror permeated every cell in her body.
Chapter Eight
When Ashley woke up the next morning, she couldn’t believe she’d slept through the night without reliving the nightmare.
Deputy Bill had let her out at the front door of the house, and she’d made it up the stairs and to her room without anyone noticing. After stripping off her dirty, torn clothes, she’d filled the bathtub and let her raw-edged nerves mend as she soaked in the soothing warm waters. Emotionally and physically drained, she slipped into her pajamas and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor for a long time.
An hour later, Clara brought up a dinner tray.
“Aren’t you feeling well?” the maid asked, noticing Ashley was ready fo
r bed.
“Just tired.” Ashley knew her story would be all over the island soon enough, and she wasn’t going to relive the horror by talking about it.
Hesitating at the door, Clara said, “I have a friend who cleans Dr. Hadley’s house and she told me she saw you and the Officer Taylor walking his dog this afternoon.” She gave Ashley a knowing smile. “I guess you wore yourself out with…exercise.”
The implication that she and Brad had been intimate wasn’t lost on Ashley, but at the moment she was too mentally and physically exhausted to worry about it. Let them think what they would. She didn’t care, and she doubted very much that Brad would, either.
“I’ll see to your soiled clothes,” Clara said picking up the ones Ashley had piled in the bathroom. She wrinkled up her nose at the smell and looking questioningly at Ashley.
“I fell into a little puddle on the beach,” she lied.
After the maid left, Ashley halfheartedly picked at the food on her tray. Then she set it aside, fluffed her pillow and turned on her side. Surprisingly, she fell into a deep sleep until morning.
She was dressed and ready to go downstairs for breakfast when there was a light knock on her door. Her eyes did a double take when she opened it and saw Dr. Hadley standing there.
“Good morning.” The doctor greeted her as if this were a social visit even though he was carrying his medical kit. “Officer Taylor told me what happened. He asked me to stop by and make sure that you were all right.”
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you,” she answered quickly, surprised and pleased that Brad had sent him.
“That’s good news. He’ll be relieved, I know. Brad was pretty upset when I talked to him.”
“I appreciate his concern, but I slept well and was just going to join the others for breakfast.”
“Well, then, I’ll walk down with you. How is your sister doing?” he asked politely as they made their way down the long hall.
“Very well. She’s going to be released soon.”
“I’m happy to hear that. I hope you are progressing nicely with your work. I trust that except for last night’s unfortunate occurrence, you’re enjoying your time on the island.”