by Barbara Ross
So far, everything he’d told me agreed 100 percent with what Michaela and Sarah had said. “Michaela said you followed her and Ray back to the Lighthouse. And later, when she looked out the window of her room at the Snuggles, you were there, across the street.”
“Wilson had calmed down by the time they left Gleason’s. Michaela seemed to have the situation under control, but I didn’t want to take the chance. I followed them to the Lighthouse. They split up in the parking lot and he went to get something out of his car. I followed Michaela to the Snuggles to make sure she got back okay. There was no one around and I didn’t like the idea of her walking alone. Then I went back to get my cab. Wilson was nowhere to be seen. His car was there, and I assumed he’d gone inside.”
Chris caught the look on my face and grimaced. “I know, bad assumption. Anyway, then I drove over here, got cleaning supplies, and cleaned up the blood and the puke, just like I told you.”
But I still didn’t understand why he hadn’t explained all that in the first place. Especially since he had told me about the blood in the cab. “Why would you hide this from me? I thought we were in this together.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make things worse for you by telling you anymore about that night.”
Worse for me? I was already in it up to my neck.
Chris took my hands in his. “This really isn’t a good time. I have something I have to take care of. But there’s one more thing I want to say. This is a small town. It’s been a long time since you’ve lived here. Sometimes when two people are seen together a lot, people misunderstand the nature of the relationship. Town gossip says there’s more than there is. I don’t want you to be caught up in that.”
Just like that, he broke my heart.
Chapter 46
Somehow I stumbled my way off the Dark Lady and unlocked the dinghy. Chris’s message was clear. Town gossips thought there was something between him and me. And they were wrong. There was nothing between us.
I sat in the little boat and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself and calm my racing mind. My pulse slowed just enough for me to start the motor and head out into the harbor.
The boat was small and the ride bumpy. Once I got out beyond the mouth of the harbor, I had to fight for control, but from there the trip was short and soon I pulled up to our dock.
“Etienne! Gabrielle! I’m here.” I tied up the dinghy and continued to call out. Etienne knew I was coming. Why didn’t he come out to greet me?
I knocked on the screen door of their house. The sound echoed throughout the place. No answering call. No sign of anyone at all. The door was unlocked which was typical when Etienne and Gabrielle were on the island alone. Clambake guests had been known to wander into the house, use the facilities, and otherwise make themselves at home, so the door was usually secured when customers were on the island, but otherwise there was little point. At least, it had seemed that way until I’d opened the doors to Windsholme and found Ray Wilson’s body hanging from the staircase. Could it have been just one week ago?
“Hello!” I walked through the empty house. Gabrielle kept an immaculate home, but there were signs of life interrupted. Her knitting sat next to her chair, a business magazine, its spine splayed open, was next to Etienne’s. I left the house, annoyed and worried. Etienne knew I was coming.
The next place to check was the pavilion and commercial kitchen. We weren’t open for business today, probably never would be again, but I had faith in Etienne and Gabrielle’s ability to keep busy—cleaning, fixing, improving. Neither of them were built for sitting still, and I imagined the forced idleness must have been driving them crazy. I called around the kitchen and dining area, but found no indication they were there or had been.
A breeze came in across the ocean as I walked out toward the lawn and I realized how preternaturally still the island seemed. How quiet. I walked over to Gabrielle’s vegetable garden, which was brimming with bright green lettuce and peas hanging from their vines, needing to be picked. But no Gabrielle. No Etienne.
I hurried back to the playing fields and looked up at Windsholme. A shadow crossed a fourth floor window, the one in the center where Lieutenant Binder and I had found the clothing. Was it someone, or merely the reflection of the sun dancing on the wavy, old glass? That was the explanation behind most of the ghost sightings on Morrow Island.
“Etienne, I’m here!” I yelled up the lawn. If he was inside Windsholme, I wanted him to come out to greet me. But nothing happened.
I walked slowly toward the big front porch. “Etienne! Etienne!” I steeled myself to open the front doors, remembering that last time I’d been in the house just the day before. I’d walked through its entirety with Binder and felt completely safe . . . until we found the room with the neatly folded clothes. Then my family’s property had again become alien. I reached for the doorknob and started to turn it.
“Julia!”
I jumped a mile. “Geez, Etienne. You scared me to death.”
He’d come around the side of Windsholme, but there was no need to ask where he’d been. He was wearing swim trunks and carrying a beach towel. His chest was bare, revealing his slight potbelly and powerful shoulders. Water dripped steadily from his trunks onto the grass.
“We need to talk.” How many times, in how many ways had I said that to someone over the last six days?
“Indeed.”
He climbed the porch and we each sat in one of the wooden rockers.
“Where’s Gabrielle?” I asked.
“She stayed down at the beach.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want her to be alone.”
“I meant I didn’t want to leave her on the island by herself. She’s a bit fragile right now.”
I turned to face him and took his great paw in my much smaller hands. “Etienne, is Jean-Jacques back?”
He looked away and dabbed his forehead with the towel. “I do not know. I have not seen him. I have only seen evidence of his comings and goings. Gabrielle is convinced he’s been here.”
I thought about Gabrielle’s increasingly nervous disposition. “How long has this been going on?”
“She discovered the playhouse had been fixed up shortly after we finished the spring cleaning. It looked occupied, I think you’ll agree. She kept going over to investigate, insisting she’d seen smoke from the chimney. But then we’d get there and find no one, just charred wood in the fireplace.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You had so many worries. So much responsibility.”
“Oh, Etienne.”
He gave me a small, sad smile. “We all have our burdens.”
“What about the room with the clothes in Windsholme? Did you know about that?”
He nodded, moving the rocker a little as he did. “Yes, I knew. Once the clambake started there would be people all over the island—and in summer no further need of the fireplace at the playhouse. By then, the electricians who’d done that rewiring for you were gone. Gabrielle is convinced Jean-Jacques moved into Windsholme after the first police search because the mansion was quieter and more private.”
That made sense. Inasmuch as any of it made sense. I switched subjects. “You were on the mainland the night of Ray Wilson’s murder.”
Etienne sighed. His face settled into its familiar outlines, but I could tell he was exhausted. “This has all been very stressful for Gabby. She’s been so anxious her doctor prescribed some medication for her nerves. That night she couldn’t sleep. With the wedding here in the morning, she was terrified someone would stumble upon Jean-Jacques. And we had run out of her medication.”
That alone told me how stressed and distracted Etienne’s little household was. When you lived on an island, you became an expert planner, an obsessive list maker. You never ran out of staples or medication.
“Gabrielle was so agitated that night. Neither of us had slept one wink, and with the wedding the next day, I decided we had to go across to the pha
rmacy.”
“Etienne, why didn’t you call our house? I could have picked up the prescription and met you at the dock, at least.”
“You had a big day the next day, too.”
His reluctance to ask for help cut me to the quick. Our families were intertwined in business and friendship. I would have helped him, if only he’d asked.
“If you know we were in town that night, you probably know the rest,” he said. “I asked that Tony Poitras for a ride to the pharmacy. He was cruising by the dock. I had no idea he was the groom until we got to chatting on the car ride.”
“Did you know he was Ray Wilson’s partner?”
“No, it never came up. Gabrielle was obviously in distress and I think we both wanted to get the errand over with as quickly as possible.”
Now I was the one who sighed. I turned away so he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes. “Etienne, I wish you had trusted me more.”
“It’s funny. I wanted to say exactly that to you.”
“You wish I had trusted you more?” I had trusted him with my business, my family’s livelihood, and our island every single day.
“Your father compensated me well, and gave me a third of the clambake’s profits every year.”
I knew that from my study of the books, and if the clambake was ever profitable again, I intended to continue that tradition.
“My expenses have been low,” Etienne said.
“Neither Gabrielle nor I have extravagant tastes.”
I nodded. I knew he and Gabrielle to be frugal Mainers.
“The long and the short of it is, we have plenty of money. I want to help you with the clambake, become your business partner. I should have said something earlier. I guess I was hurt that you never asked, never even considered bringing Gabby and me into the business. Into the family.”
“Etienne, I’m so sorry. I never thought—”
“No. You never did. Now I am tired of waiting to be asked. I am offering.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Unless something dramatic happens, First Busman’s Bank will call our loan on Monday. With an infusion of cash like I think you’re offering, we could try to restructure the debt, but honestly, I don’t know if it’s still possible. If there was an arrest for the murder, it would help with the bank because we could guarantee we’d be open. But we owe a million and a half dollars. If we can’t fully pay off that debt, your help may not matter.”
“I can handle that amount—the million and a half.”
Was this a bad joke? How could Etienne possibly have that kind of money? But then, as I thought about it, the idea seemed more plausible. The bonuses my father had given him during the boom years were healthy. Etienne and Gabrielle had next to no living expenses—the summer rental paid for their house, they’d had no college expenses for Jean-Jacques.
“But I do have some conditions,” Etienne continued. “One, I want to be a partner. For that kind of money, I’d expect to own a third of the business. I don’t want an interest in the properties, those belong to your family. But I do want to be a formal partner in the business.”
The amount he was offering, a million and a half dollars for a third of the business, was more than fair. I was completely comfortable with what he proposed. My father had always treated him like he was an owner anyway. I indicated that he should go on.
“Two—no more work on Windsholme. Leave it as it is. It’s the only part of your plan I never agreed with. Three—you stay, at least for the rest of the summer.”
Those also were easy. There’d be no money for further improvements to Windsholme even with the cash from Etienne. And I’d always planned to stay for the whole summer, as long as there was a business to run.
“Four—Sonny goes. He’s out of the business.”
I sat stunned. “Sonny has worked at the clambake since he was a teenager. I don’t think he ever meant to harm the business. He’s family. I can’t throw him out.”
“Wake up, Julia. Sonny is a know-it-all who won’t listen to advice from anyone. Or take direction. He’s stubborn and aggressive. He’s impossible for you to work with. Or me to work with. If I am part owner, he has to go.” Etienne’s voice was insistent. I didn’t doubt he meant what he said.
What could I say? My mother had begged me to find a way to keep the island in the family and this was that way. Quite probably the only way. My stomach hurt just to think about it. Etienne had asked me to destroy my family in order to save it, but if we took his deal, the property would still belong to my mother, would pass to Livvie and me, and ultimately, to Page and my children. “I’ll think about it. And talk to my family.”
Etienne stared down the lawn at his house and the dock, my borrowed dinghy bouncing on the waves. “Good.”
I had one more thing to ask. “Do you think Jean-Jacques killed Ray Wilson and set fire to the porch?”
Etienne shook his head. “I am certain he did not. My boy is not a killer. That was why he could not go back to Iraq. He is incapable of killing anyone.”
I left the island in the little outboard. The skies were gray by then and a steady wind had come up. I fought the current and small swells all the way back through the harbor. Large, ploppy raindrops fell just as I got back to Chris’s boat slip. No one was around. I was beyond grateful I didn’t have to see him.
My phone buzzed to let me know I had a text. Binder. Please come by headquarters ASAP. Development in case you need to know about.
I locked up the little boat, put the key in my pocket, and lit out for the police station. Had there been an arrest? Was it possible my luck had turned?
Chapter 47
Binder looked up from his chair at the conference table. “You got here faster than I expected.”
“I am absolutely desperate for good news.” I remained standing, too excited to sit down.
“Well, I’m not sure if this qualifies or not. Sarah Halsey has been arrested for the murder of Ray Wilson. She’s here at the station.”
Now I needed a chair. “Murder. I don’t understand.” Just moments ago, I’d been so happy there’d been an arrest. I thought about Tyler growing up without his mother. I was afraid I’d be sick all over Binder’s conference table. “But Sarah didn’t kill Ray. She just wanted to show he would be a terrible father and shouldn’t get visitation. Her own father was an alcoholic—”
Binder’s eyebrows rose. “Ms. Snowden, I’m not sure what you know about the facts in this case. For example, did you know that Ray Wilson died leaving a considerable amount of money to his son, Tyler Halsey, and as Tyler’s legal guardian, Ms. Halsey would have had unfettered access to all the money to do as she pleased?”
Sarah hadn’t told me that. It was amazing how many half-truths I’d been told in the past week. Still, the Sarah Halsey I knew was a hardworking, grounded mother and teacher with strong moral values. I couldn’t imagine her risking prison and losing her son for money. I tried again. “Sarah didn’t realize Ray would start drinking again after all this time and that the combination of the drugs and alcohol would kill him. If anything, it was an accident.”
“The Rophynol Ms. Halsey gave the victim didn’t kill him. He died of a broken neck.”
“A broken neck?” Why arrest Sarah for murder if the drugs weren’t what killed Ray?
“His neck was broken before his body was hung up at Windsholme.”
I was reeling, not sure I comprehended everything Binder said. “But if his neck was broken, then Sarah didn’t kill him. And she couldn’t possibly have taken him out to Morrow Island and hung his body from the staircase. That would require someone much stronger.”
“We don’t think he was dead when he arrived on the island. We believe Ms. Halsey doped him up so that he’d be easier to manipulate. He went to the island willingly, where he was killed and hung.”
“Still, there is no way she could have strung him up.”
“Alone. She couldn’t possibly have killed him and hung him from the staircase alone. Ms.
Halsey has also been charged with conspiracy. Her accomplice is meeting with his attorney right now, making arrangements to surrender. He’ll be charged later this afternoon. I think you know him. Christopher Durand.”
I stumbled out of Binder’s conference room with tears in my eyes and the telltale tightness in my chest that preceded a panic attack—and rammed straight into Jamie in the drab corridor. He took one look and hustled me into something that looked like a supply closet. He switched on the single overhead bulb. The shelves that lined the closet closed in on me and I swayed a little.
“Breathe, Julia, breathe.”
I had a vivid image of standing on the top floor of Windsholme with Jamie forcing my head to my knees. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of that. I steadied myself and did as he commanded, closing my eyes and breathing in and out through my open mouth, while I still could. It worked. My heart rate slowed.
“I see you’ve heard about Sarah.”
“Oh Jamie, I can’t believe it. Can’t you talk some sense into Binder?”
“It’s a pretty ironclad case. She came in and admitted she drugged him. And you have to agree, she had a powerful motive.”
I felt horrible guilt for forcing Sarah to tell the police about the Rophynol. At the time, I just wanted her to clear up that bit of the puzzle, to remove the drugging from the list of things Binder’s team was investigating. I never imagined it would turn into an arrest. “Sarah wouldn’t deliberately kill anyone, much less for money,” I insisted.