Murder Beach

by Rena Leith

  Jack said, “I don’t really see any motivation for the gamers once you eliminate any vampire hocus pocus.”

  “But they might actually believe that hocus pocus.”

  Gillian sat down at the kitchen table. “Maybe nothing is going on. Maybe it really was an accident.”

  “Nice try, Gillian, but someone rather viciously jabbed Alan in the throat. Want to play a game? Let’s find out what we know.” Jack sat down with a pad of paper and several pencils. “Anyone want a sheet?”

  “We really should be finishing things up so that you guys can go home.” But I sat down on the other side of the table and accepted a couple of sheets of paper and a pencil.

  Gillian took a sheet from Jack and a pencil. “We’re nearly through. Jack and I will be out of your hair tomorrow.”

  “I really do have to get back to work, but I think we have time to have a bit of fun with this.”

  “Will there be a test later?” I asked.

  Doris materialized, and I jumped.

  “What? You’re working on the shiny new murder? You haven’t got time to figure out who bumped me off?”

  “Let’s do both, Doris. If we make some notes about both murders, that might get the juices flowing.” Jack sat at the trestle table.

  Doris sat on the kitchen counter.

  Gillian got up, refilled her mug and mine, and sat back down next to Jack. “What do we know now?”

  I wrote on my paper as I talked. “Alan was murdered near my house. The location could be accidental or deliberate.” I doodled a cliff. “Maybe there was intent to have the body found in the same location as yours, Doris, to keep the reputation of Murder Beach alive. He could have fallen off a boat.” I drew a boat.

  “Or the cliff.” Gillian wrote column titles: location, weapon, motive, opportunity.

  I added their thoughts to my list next to the picture of an ice pick. “He could have been killed on the beach and been dragged or fallen into the water. Possible he’d been there long enough for the tide to come in.”

  Jack leaned back. “You’d think someone else would have noticed him.”

  “My house probably blocks the view of the beach from a lot of places.”

  Jack wrote Suspects.

  “Sara’s the most obvious,” I said. “If you suspect family first. He does have other family. A cousin inherited a boat, a cousin Sara didn’t know about. It’s possible there are a whole slew of people we’re unaware of.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. For the sake of argument, let’s stick with those we know about.” Jack wrote names under Suspects: Sara, Ricardo, Mia, Marcy, Samantha, Brendan, Vampire gamers. “We’ll get their names later.”

  “Hey! What are you doing?” I said. “We don’t know if any of them were involved.”

  Jack shrugged. “We have to start somewhere. We can always eliminate them or add others. Better not to overlook anyone.”

  “I almost forgot. When we were taking inventory at the shop, Sara gave me this.” I pulled the Angry Birds keychain out of my pocket. “I don’t think she knew what it was.”

  “How could you forget something like that?” Jack asked, taking it from me and examining it.

  “Shouldn’t you turn that over to the police?” Gillian said.

  “I don’t see why. Surely, they looked through the shop.”

  “Interesting USB drive.” Jack pulled it apart. “Girly.”

  “Geek,” I said.

  “Pull out the laptop, Gillian. Let’s have a look,” Jack said.

  Gillian got his laptop from the bedroom.

  Jack booted it up and shoved the little bird into the USB drive. Jack leaned forward and started opening directories.

  “Ricardo wouldn’t kill anyone. I don’t think Mia would, either. I just went into business with both of them.”

  “How would you know that?” Gillian asked.

  I doodled a guillotine. “I don’t, I guess. It would just suck.”

  Jack smiled. “A little vampire humor?”

  “I’m going to set up a spreadsheet.”

  Jack copy/pasted the information we’d accumulated so far.

  “There’s some interesting stuff on this USB. Looks like he kept his research on here. Backup, anyway. I want to capture some of it along with what we have so far from other sources.” He opened a few more directories. “This is fascinating background on this place.” He looked up. “And you, Doris.”

  Doris’ bored façade faded away, and she rematerialized next to him, one ghostly hand on his shoulder. “Show me.”

  Jack opened Picasa and sucked the pictures into an album and ran a slideshow for her. If ghosts could cry, she’d have been in tears.

  “My father. My car!” She wrapped her arms around herself.

  Jack quickly labeled the photos and then gently disengaged. “Most of the material on this flash drive isn’t relevant to Howland’s murder, I’m afraid.” He watched Doris as she drifted away into nothingness.

  “What about Samantha?” Gillian asked. “She seemed awfully interested, and she did return to the scene of the crime. Maybe she’s trying to throw everyone off with the vampire stuff.”

  “Maybe Jack’s right. Let’s add everyone we can think of. We can always take them off later, and we may find there’s evidence against someone who looks innocent on the surface.” I added her name to my list. “Let’s add Brendan, too. He lost a business deal to Alan. Angela is Marcy’s assistant.” I was getting into it.

  “He’s on the list. I’ll add her,” Jack said. “Now we have to consider motive.”

  “Sara suspected that her husband was having an affair with Mia Jamison. Even if he wasn’t,” I said, putting “jealousy” in the motive column for Sara.

  “There doesn’t seem to be much on this USB drive so far that would provide motivation for Alan’s murder.”

  “I keep everything important in my life on my phone. Sara said he had a smart phone, but they didn’t find it.”

  Jack looked up. “The police may have taken Alan’s with them.”

  “Or it’s in the ocean,” I said. “He probably backed it up in the cloud, so the data may be found.”

  “In any case, there’ll be a copy of everything that’s on the phone on his computer if he synched up with it.”

  Gillian said, “Sara also has the motive of gain. She inherits Alan’s possessions. Unless you know otherwise?”

  “Sara had a copy of the will at the store. There were a number of people that got stuff, but she inherited the bulk of the estate.”

  “Continuing then. Motive for Brendan would be revenge over that lost business deal and getting rid of a rival.”

  I added to my notes. “Oh, and he has a key to Alan’s shop. He was on one of Samantha’s videos letting himself in.”

  Jack whistled. “I remember, and that’s gonna get him into trouble.”

  Discomfort over her safety niggled at me again.

  “Let’s move on or we’ll never get through these. Motive for Mia?” Gillian prompted.

  “If she can prove she’s his natural daughter, she stands to inherit,” I said.

  “Has she made a claim?” Jack asked.

  “Not to my knowledge. Are we out of ideas for Alan’s murder? Shall we scope out Doris’?”

  Doris clapped her hands and swung her feet. It was so odd watching that silent clapping. I grabbed a blank sheet of paper and set up the same grid. Jack glanced at her and started another Excel workbook.

  “Doris, was the land up the hill on the other side of me a state park when you lived around here?”

  “Oh, yes. The land was part of a bequest.”

  “So no neighbors there.”

  Jack added, “There were probably far fewer people in the region then, but bootleggers obviously used the area and probably the beach. Doris, you may have seen or heard something you weren’t meant to.”

  The cliff by my house was the point end of the shorter of the two arms and was the near side of the Las Lunas State Park th
at stretched south down the coast. The heavily wooded top of the cliff contained a picnic area and campsite. It also had one of the best views around when you reached the cliff itself. I wondered what Doris could have seen.

  She shook her head. “No idea.”

  I set my pencil down. “I think we’re going to have to do some research. Maybe it’s time we looked through the old papers we’ve gathered up in those boxes.” I inclined my head toward the plastic boxes stacked in a corner of the living room. “Maybe you guys will stay a little longer.”

  “Tantalizing,” Jack said.

  “Clear the table. I’ve got several boxes of papers and one of pictures and oddments, Doris’ diary, and my own notes. Oh, and Wilhelmina’s two books.”

  Gillian wiped the table down. Jack set the first box on the table. I set Doris’ diary on the table, and although I could no longer see her, the pages turned.

  Gillian took the lid off the box. “That was creepy.”

  “Thanks, Doris,” I said to the air. “That reminded me of an old movie, a ghost story from the Thirties in black and white. The Uninvited with Ray Milland and Gale Sondergaard. In the movie, that’s how they discover the murder. The ghost opens the doctor’s medical notebook to the page that describes the murder. I don’t suppose you’ve done that for us, Doris.” I looked down at the page she’d chosen for us and read aloud. “Uncle Stanislaus came over today. I don’t like the way he looks at me. He’s a palooka. My father sez I must call him ‘uncle’ whenever there are strangers here.” I wondered why Doris wasn’t visible. “Are you all right, Doris?”

  “I wonder if Stanislaus is in Alan’s manuscript.” Jack rifled through the manuscript.

  “Jack, this could really be due to a breeze. Don’t get too excited.”

  Gillian pulled some pictures out of the box and read the backs. She sorted them into piles. “It would help if you could identify some of these people, Doris. Are they people you know? Doris? Are you here?”

  “I’m afraid we’ve upset her.”

  Jack set out the picture of Doris’ car from the manuscript envelope.

  Gillian pulled the identical picture out of the box. “On the back of this one, someone’s written ‘Breezer.’ Some of the pictures in the box are from Doris’ generation, but this collection is a mashup of all the pictures we found in the cottage. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. We should have put them in separate piles.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Gillian. We’ll do what we can now. Jack, there’s a box of archival sleeves on the table by the front door. Can you grab it? You’re nearest.”

  Jack pushed the chair back, startling Thor, who’d curled up next to the chair. He brought the box back to the table and opened it. “When did you get this stuff?”

  “I’ve had archiving supplies for a while now. I was going to put Dad’s letters from when he was in the Navy and Mom and Dad’s love letters in these sleeves. I have binders and labels, too.”

  “Do you throw anything out?”

  “You’ve been helping me move in. What do you think?”

  He snorted. “Are you planning on archiving everything? Should we be putting the papers in sleeves, too?”

  “It could get expensive if we have to buy more sleeves, so let’s start with the most fragile stuff. I bought them with the idea that we shouldn’t keep handling our parents’ letters. There are a couple of ring binders. These letters are a lot more fragile.”

  “Look at this.” Gillian had laid out a patchwork quilt of photos of the cottage. A variety of folks peopled the photos, and a very young Doris was in most of them, often the center of attention. “This place had an actual yard! Look how far away the ocean is.”

  Jack leaned over for a look. “Lots of erosion. You might be out a house soon.”

  “Not with the park there. The government will move to save it.”

  “You wish.”

  “Gillian, there are sleeves for a couple of sizes of photos. Use whatever makes sense.”

  She stuffed a few sleeves. “Good idea, Cass.” She flipped through a few more piles. “I think I’ve found Uncle Stanislaus.” She handed me a picture of a hefty man, clean-shaven, face shaded by a big brimmed hat. “Says Uncle Stan on the back.”

  “Doris! It’s going to take us a long time if you continue to absent yourself. We really need your help here. Is this the guy from your diary?”

  Jack sat back down. “She’s as stubborn as you are. I’ll look for a reference in the manuscript. If we had a last name, we might be able to Google him.”

  “Doris? Last name?” She was pissing me off. I had a mind to stop wasting time on this…except that I was also curious about what happened to her and how it tied into my house.

  “Hey, look at this.” Gillian pulled a diamond solitaire engagement ring out of the bottom of the box.

  Then Doris joined us, at least audibly, wailing as if her heart would break. The sound was everywhere at once. It echoed off the walls and seemed to roll from room to room as if a gauzy wind blew it through the house. It broke my heart and terrified me all at once. I picked Thor up and looked him in the eyes. “Doris, are you in there?”

  A watery chuckle emanated from everywhere and nowhere. Then a hiccough and Doris appeared wavery and indistinct. “I’m sorry. The r-ring. It was from Lemuel. For a moment, it was as if we were there on the beach. It’s my last memory before I…I…”

  I put Thor down. Had Lemuel, whoever he was, killed her? Finally, a real clue! “Doris, do you think Lemuel…uh…was responsible for your death?”

  “He adored me. He proposed to me that night. On his knees and everything. Roses. Moonlight.” Then her eyes widened. “Lemuel! What happened to him? How did my ring get into your box?”

  “It must have been in between papers in one of the drawers. I’m really surprised that no one took it,” I said.

  “The haunting rumors must have helped to save it from thieves,” Gillian said.

  Jack opened a browser. “What was his last name?”

  “Lemuel Clemens.”

  “Seriously?”

  Doris drew herself up and hardened her edges that had softened at the mention of his name. “And what’s wrong with his name?”

  “Lem Clem?” Jack’s typing faltered. “Never mind.”

  I think he muttered something about parents.

  He focused intently on the screen, adding search terms. “Nothing. We need more information. I’m guessing he wasn’t important enough to warrant being digitized.”

  “He was important to me!”

  “I know,” I said. “We’ll find him. We just need to do some more basic research. Google crawls more places all the time. There could be something in a newspaper morgue that isn’t online yet. We can check genealogical sites. Do you know anything about his family?”

  “I’ve got more pictures in sleeves. Do you recognize any of these people?” Gillian spread out half a dozen sleeves on the table.

  “My father and Lemuel.” His name came out on a sob. “He was a sailor, but he often did bodyguard work for Daddykins and me.”

  I looked at the photo. Lemuel was tall with broad shoulders and a shy smile. Nice looking in an old-fashioned way. Hair parted in the center. Wore his pants too high for my taste. Pleated. Thin belt. I wondered if, perhaps, “Daddykins” hadn’t thought Lemuel good enough for his little girl. “What did your father think of Lemuel?”

  “He trusted him with his life.”

  That wasn’t what I asked, but I let it pass.

  Doris took a closer look at the pictures. “More.”

  Gillian dutifully spread out some more picture sleeves.

  Doris nodded and bit her ghostly lip as she looked at them. “These are my father’s business partners.”

  She identified several men who appeared in many photos.

  I’d already been able to sort out those who worked for him from those who worked with him by their clothes. These days fashion equalized people’s status considerably. I suppose there’s
a difference between those who can afford haute couture and those who can afford Wal-Mart, but so many people of high and low status dress the same these days that class distinctions are less obvious than they were when Doris was young.

  “This is Mary Ann Deluria. She was Dad’s fancy woman.”

  Jack frowned, but Gillian nudged him and whispered in his ear and he got it.

  “These two men always seem to be with Lemuel.” I pointed to two equally tall and muscled young men.

  “Daddy’s bodyguards.” She began to tear up again.

  “Can you remember more names?” I turned on my recording app, wondering if ghosts could be recorded. Maybe I’d better write the names down as well.

  “Timothy O’Reilly. Elijah Jones.”

  “Good Irish and Welsh surnames.” Jack typed them one at a time into Google along with an early century date based on a letter that looked like the right time frame. “And we have a hit with Mary Ann. Leave it to the fallen woman to show up on Google.”

  “Crass, Jack.”

  “Maybe, but scandal is a researcher’s friend.”

  “True but still crass.”

  “You, too.” Gillian leaned over to read the screen. “What does it say?”

  Jack leaned back. “She took over everything!” He scrolled down. “Uh oh.”

  Chapter 15

  He glanced over his shoulder at Doris and then up at Gillian.

  She read where he was pointing.”That’s odd. All at once.”

  Our obtuseness and lowered voices caught Doris’ attention. But as she moved to read the screen, Jack closed the laptop. Her anger was potent as she dove through the laptop but didn’t come out the other side.

  “Oh, crap.” Jack lifted the lid, but the screen no longer held the image of the newspaper article. It looked as if all the pixels had gone crazy. He moaned. “I really liked this laptop.”

  “Glad we weren’t using my Mac,” I said.

  “The ghost in the machine.” Gillian rubbed his neck. “You were only trying to keep her from pain. Is she trapped in there?”

  He shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  “Lemuel is dead. But that was the case, anyway.” She had to have known that.