Island of Secrets

by Janni Nell

  When Noreen was breathing through the tube, Oak and Quinn lifted her onto a stretcher and set out for the helipad. We all heaved a sigh of relief when we heard the helicopter take off. Then everyone started talking at once.

  As the babble swirled around me, I wondered whether this had been an accident or attempted murder. Noreen’s allergy was common knowledge, which made it a perfect murder weapon for someone with access to her food. No prizes for guessing this attempt on her life had something to do with her research into Albert Forresttia. She must have discovered someone on the island was related to him. Who was it?

  Therese and Vincent stood in a corner of the room, shoulders touching, hands linked. They shared a private glance I couldn’t read.

  The aunts stood in another corner. Evie was wide-eyed, thrilled to be a part of the drama. Lyn watched everyone, analyzing and assessing. I’ll bet they hadn’t even thought of including this on their bucket list. They could dine out on it for years to come.

  Polly stood in the midst of the spilled salad. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she mumbled something about not wanting to hurt Noreen.

  The only person I didn’t suspect was Quinn, who had worked so hard to save Noreen’s life and was even now flying her to the hospital. Even I couldn’t make sense of him saving her if he wanted her dead.

  I held up my hands and yelled for quiet. Everyone immediately shut up. Making the most of their undivided attention, I said, “Who was here when Noreen ate the salad?”

  Vincent answered, “Therese, Quinn, Noreen and me.”

  “Right, Vincent, I want you to come with me to Noreen’s office.”

  “Why?” asked Polly.

  Lyn answered. “She wants to talk to him about what happened. Everyone gets interviewed separately so they don’t hear each other’s stories.”

  “That’s right,” said Evie. “That’s how they do it on crime shows.”

  “Oh God,” said Polly. “This wasn’t a crime, it was an accident. I swear. Why would I want to harm Noreen? She was lovely.”

  “Calm down,” I said, “no one’s accusing anyone of a crime.” Yet.

  When Vincent and I were seated in Noreen’s office, I said, “Tell me everything that happened from the time you entered the dining room until she ate the salad.”

  “I arrived with Therese,” he said. “Noreen was already at the table. She was very happy. She tell us she found something interesting about a family bush.”

  “Family tree. Any idea what she’d discovered?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe she was relate to another queen.”

  “Maybe. What happened next?”

  “Quinn arrive last. Everyone sat down and Polly bring out the plates.”

  “Did Polly eat with you?”

  “Non, never. We eat. She cook for Mr. Forrest and his guests.”

  “Okay, so you, Therese, Quinn and Noreen are sitting at the dining table. Polly brings in the food and…”

  “She put the bowls down.”

  “On the table? Or in front of you?” When he confirmed Polly had given a bowl to each of them, I asked, “Did you eat immediately? Did anyone leave the table?”

  He fidgeted, scratched his chin, and avoided my eyes.

  “You might as well tell me,” I said. “If you don’t, someone else will.”

  “Everyone leave the table.” He hung his head. “My fault. I see a shooting star. I call everyone to the window to see.”

  “And everyone took a look? No one hung back at the table?”

  “Everyone look. Then we go back to the table. Eat. Noreen get sick. Thank the good God, Quinn was here. He went to doctor school.”

  “Graduated?”

  “Non, he drop out to fly helicopters.”

  I talked to Vincent a while longer, but I was soon convinced he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell me anything more. I let him go and called in Therese.

  Sweat glistened on the lines of her forehead. Knotting and unknotting her hands, she said, “My Vincent did not do this.”

  Huh? Had I accused him? Nope, didn’t think so.

  She went on. “I know what everyone think. Vincent call them to look at the shooting star. While they are at the window, he change the bowls. Give Noreen his salad with peanuts.”

  “Has anyone actually accused him?”

  “Not with the tongue, but I see in their eyes. Vincent is a good man. He would not harm the fly.”

  “Tell me what happened before Noreen ate the peanuts.”

  “Vincent did not tell you?”

  “I’d like to hear what you have to say.”

  Her version of events was so similar to her husband’s, I wondered whether they’d scripted it together. I soon realized I’d learn nothing new from her and let her go.

  Polly came in next, pale-faced and red-eyed from all her crying. Both Vincent and Therese had confirmed she’d been in the kitchen when everyone had gone to the window, but she still blamed herself for giving Noreen the peanuts.

  “I keep seeing her swollen face,” she sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry. Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

  We weren’t even sure Noreen was going to live, but I didn’t point that out. Instead I asked, “Are you absolutely certain you gave her the wrong bowl?”

  “I must have, mustn’t I? How else would she get it?”

  “Someone could’ve switched the bowls after you put them on the table.”

  “Do you think so? No, that’s impossible. You’re so kind to let me off the hook, but I have to take responsibility for this. Noreen was—is—such a nice woman. It shouldn’t have happened to her. Do you think she’ll be all right?”

  “I hope so.”

  “What if she dies? Will I be guilty of murder?”

  Depended on whether she’d given Noreen the peanuts on purpose, but I wasn’t yet convinced Polly was responsible. Anyone could’ve switched the bowls, while everyone had been at the window. For that matter, even the aunts, who hadn’t been in the room at the time, could’ve paid someone to switch the bowls.

  Polly slumped in the chair, covered her face with her hands and sobbed quietly. I went to her side and touched her shoulder. “I’m sure Noreen will be okay,” I said, fingers crossed. “Let’s go back and join the others.”

  Lyn had given everyone a finger of brandy. The really good stuff Oak kept for his guests. Handing me a glass, she said, “Quinn called from the hospital. Noreen’s in surgery. He thinks her prognosis is good, but of course the doctors won’t confirm yet.”

  “Thank God,” whispered Polly.

  We all drank to Noreen’s recovery, but I knew that one of us was hoping she’d die before morning.

  After another round of brandy, we all drifted off to our cottages. The night was humid and I cranked up the air-conditioning. A shower sounded good and I headed to the bathroom. For blissful minutes the cool water sluiced over me. When I’d washed away the sweat of the last stressful hours, I stepped out of the shower and into a fluffy towel. I was pulling on the boxer shorts and tank top I slept in when I heard someone moving around my cottage. I flicked off the bathroom light, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I opened the door.

  Wisps of moonlight stained the room. Everything seemed exactly as it should be. My neatly made bed was just as Therese left it. The clock on the bedside table faced straight ahead. My clothes were on the floor right where I’d dropped them. So far as I could tell nothing had been touched. Cautiously I moved to the walk-in closet. The moonlight didn’t reach into the dark space and I was forced to turn on the light. Nope, no one hiding there.

  A soft footfall came from the living room. As I crept in that direction, I heard the sound of my front door opening and closing. I sprinted across the room, dodging furniture until I banged my shin on the coffee tab
le. That slowed me down for precious seconds, but then I was across the room wrenching open the door and rushing into the garden. I scanned the path this way and that searching for the intruder but there was no one in sight. Assuming that he or she had come from the other cottages and had therefore headed back in that I direction, I took that path. When I reached the staff cottages everything was quiet. No lights shone from the windows. I wandered around for a while, watching and listening, but soon I was forced to concede that my intruder had escaped.

  On the way back to my cottage, I noticed a light on in the aunts’ place. Thinking they might have seen something, I knocked on their door.

  Evie took one look at me and said, “Oh honey, you shouldn’t be wandering around alone with a murderer on the loose.”

  I flicked my eyes from her to Lyn. “Did either of you see anyone hanging around my cottage?”

  “No,” they said together. Lyn looked genuinely perplexed and Evie appeared downright worried.

  “You sure you didn’t see anyone with your binoculars?” I pressed.

  “We weren’t using them tonight,” said Lyn. “We were watching a movie.”

  Just my luck.

  “Do you want to sleep here?” offered Evie. “You’d be safer.”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “Make sure you lock your doors and windows,” said Lyn.

  After assuring her I would, I headed back along the garden path. I’d made a huge miscalculation when I’d followed the intruder. I should’ve realized he—or she—wouldn’t have returned to the staff cottages. They’d have guessed I’d go in that direction, and I had, operating on instinct instead of taking the time to put myself in the shoes of a calculating murderer and take the less obvious path. I swore softly, slamming my fist into my palm.

  When I reentered my cottage, I noticed a scent of cologne, or maybe it was perfume. Ready to throttle my intruder, I marched through the cottage, flicking on all the lights and yelling, “Come the fuck out.”

  But no one was there.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was nine in the morning, but Oak looked like he’d been working on his computer since he’d returned from the hospital the night before. Reluctantly he pushed himself away from the screen and took off his glasses.

  He rubbed bloodshot eyes, saying, “Terrible about Noreen. Polly should’ve been more careful. I don’t need this kind of hassle. I’ll have to let her go.”

  “No,” I said, so sharply he dropped his glasses. As he picked them up, I went on, “I don’t believe this was accidental.”

  “Why would Polly want to kill Noreen?” He was genuinely perplexed.

  “I’m not sure it was Polly. It might’ve been one of the others.”

  His frowned deepened. “Why would anyone want to kill Noreen?”

  “Yesterday, she found something on her computer.”

  “A virus?” He rose out of his chair, horrified. “Not on my network.”

  “Relax,” I said. “She found some information. Before she could tell me what it was, she ate the peanuts. I think someone wanted to stop her telling me what she’d discovered.”

  “The location of the treasure?” he suggested.

  “Not exactly, but I believe she discovered who has the other half of the map.”

  He jumped to his feet. “With that we can find the treasure and stop the war. Who has it? Tell them I’ll pay twice what the treasure is worth. Money is no object.”

  If only he’d made that offer before Noreen had been given the peanuts…but it wouldn’t do any good now. “No one will admit to having the other half of the map. It would be like admitting they had a motive to murder Noreen.”

  He sank back into his chair. “I can’t believe any of my staff would be responsible for harming her.”

  Staring right into his eyes, I said, “Believe it.”

  He blinked several times and muttered, “I want this resolved. Noreen should be able to talk to you this morning. Get over to the hospital and find out what she knows. Quinn will take you.”

  Quinn had also agreed to take the aunts. But we were left waiting at the helipad while they rang stores in Papeete to organize flowers and a fruit basket. Despite my eagerness to question Noreen, I didn’t mind the delay. It gave me a chance to talk to Quinn about what he’d observed the night before.

  “There isn’t much to tell,” he said in answer to my question. “I was the last to arrive in the dining room. Vincent, Therese and Noreen were already sitting at the table. Vincent was talking to Therese about some new plant he’d ordered. Noreen seemed distracted. But we’d all seen her like that before, when she was on some genealogy trail.”

  “How would you describe Therese and Vincent’s moods?”

  “They both seemed relaxed. Vincent was pleased about the new plant.” He glanced toward Oak’s place, looking for the aunts, but they weren’t in sight.

  “What happened next?” I prompted. “Last night, I mean.”

  “Polly brought out the bowls of salad and put them on the table. That’s when Vincent saw the shooting star and everyone went to the window to look.”

  “Even you?”

  “Yeah.” He seemed ashamed to admit it.

  “How long was everyone watching the star?”

  “Maybe five minutes.”

  “Did anyone leave the window?”

  He closed his eyes in thought. When he opened them, he said, “No one left the window. I’d have seen because I was standing behind them.”

  “Them meaning Vincent, Therese, Noreen and Polly?”

  “Not Polly. She didn’t go right to the window. I guess she took a quick glance and went back to the kitchen. At any rate, she wasn’t in the room when we returned to the table.”

  “Right, so when Noreen became ill—?”

  He interrupted. “Something happened before that. We were returning to the table when Therese realized she’d lost her earring. Everyone got down on the floor to look for it.”

  Why had no one mentioned that last night? Polly had been in the kitchen, so she might not have known, but Therese and Vincent must have.

  “Who found the earring?” I asked.

  “I did,” said Quinn. “It was a little gold bell. Sentimental value apparently.”

  It was the same earring she’d lost in my cottage. Maybe she lost it all the time and that’s why neither she nor Vincent had thought to mention it. Or maybe they’d failed to mention it on purpose.

  Quinn went on. “After I found the earring, everyone sat down to eat.”

  “What did you do when Noreen had the allergic reaction?”

  “Looked for her EpiPen. She never went anywhere without it, but it wasn’t there. That’s when I figured someone had given her the peanuts on purpose.” He compressed his lips into a hard line.

  I saw the aunts hurrying toward the helipad. Quinn stopped talking about last night and helped them aboard, making sure they were buckled in. I climbed in after them and soon we were soaring over the island.

  When we arrived in Papeete, Lyn and Evie stopped by a store and picked up their fruit basket and bunches of flowers, but they never got to deliver them. Overnight Noreen had developed a serious infection and had been moved to the ICU. She was allowed no visitors other than family and only one at a time. I’m not sure the nurses believed I was her daughter, but they let me in anyway.

  She lay white-faced amongst all the tubes and wires. A bandage covered the wound on her neck. Machines hummed, as I tiptoed across the floor. When I spoke, I felt compelled to whisper.

  “Noreen?” I touched her hand. “It’s Allegra.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, opened a crack and closed again.

  I leaned closer. “Can you hear me?” When there was no verbal response, I wrapped my hand aro
und hers and said, “If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”

  I expected an instant response and was bitterly disappointed when none came. I held her hand, waiting, hoping for some slight pressure from her fingers. With each shallow movement of her chest, hope faded. She looked like she was going to die. Soon.

  “Please, Noreen,” I whispered, and I wasn’t thinking about the case. She had family back in New Zealand. Kids, and a grandkid on the way. Bugger the case—she had to live for them. “Don’t give up, Noreen.”

  That’s when I felt a slight movement of her index finger and thumb. You couldn’t really have called it a squeeze, but it was good enough for me.

  I hurried to speak during her brief period of consciousness. “I know someone tried to kill you. Whatever you learned on the genealogy site was more important than you realized.”

  Her hand moved in mine. She made a noise, which sounded more like a groan than a word.

  “Do you want me to call a nurse?”

  “Nnn…” I took that to mean no. Her eyelids flickered again. This time they opened all the way. She looked directly at me, intelligent and aware, but so weak her eyes instantly closed again.

  I went on quickly, afraid that she would fall asleep before she could tell me, “Who is Albert’s descendant?”

  “Nnn.”

  “Don’t try to talk. I’m going to say some names. For the wrong name, squeeze my hand once, for the right name, twice. Okay?”

  Two squeezes.

  “Quinn.” This was my test run. I was pretty sure he wasn’t responsible so I was satisfied when she squeezed my hand once.

  “Therese,” I said, which was followed by one squeeze.

  I held my breath as I said, “Vincent.” One squeeze.

  “So it was Polly.” I waited for her response, but it never came. “Noreen, can you hear me?” She squeezed my hand. Once. “Really? Do you want me to run through the names again?” No response. “You don’t understand, do you?”

  A noise erupted from her throat. It sounded like a name. The wrong name.