by Janni Nell
“Did you say Oak?”
Noreen moaned. Her voice was so slurred even a drunk would’ve been embarrassed.
“Don’t try to talk.” I patted her shoulder. “Use your fingers. Is it Oak?”
But instead of squeezing my fingers, she tried to talk. The effort was too much. A monitor started beeping and nurses rushed in. The first thing they got rid of was me.
When I joined the others in the waiting room, Lyn asked, “Did she tell you who tried to kill her?”
I shook my head, totally pissed off. “She tried, but I couldn’t understand. Then everything started beeping, and all hell broke loose.”
“I hope she’s not going to die,” said Evie, dabbing at her eye with a tissue.
Quinn’s jaw tightened. He turned his back on us, walked to the window and pretended to look out.
“He blames himself,” whispered Evie. “But even if she did get the infection from Polly’s kitchen knife, at least she didn’t die on the island. Poor man needs some TLC.”
When she started toward him, Lyn grabbed her arm. “What he needs is time out. Leave him be.”
“Do you think?” asked Evie.
“I think,” said Lyn.
I sank into one of the chairs. The aunts joined me. No one wanted to go anywhere until we knew Noreen was out of immediate danger. We had an anxious wait until one of the nurses told us Noreen was still alive. That was the good news. The bad news was that I couldn’t see her until she was stronger. Evie wasn’t allowed to leave the flowers or fruit basket but the nurses took our get well cards and promised to put them where Noreen could see them when she woke.
As we left the hospital I saw Dylan. I told the others I’d catch up with them and went over to him. “What’re you doing here?”
“Having a checkup.”
“Everything okay?”
Dylan gave me the thumbs-up. “A few headaches but I’m fine. What brings you here?”
“Noreen—she’s the housekeeper on Lu’arna—ate some peanuts. She went into anaphylactic shock and almost died.”
“Fuck. Will she be okay?”
“I don’t know. While I was visiting, she had some kind of crisis. The machines started beeping. I had to leave.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “She’s in the right place. The hospital will take good care of her. She’ll have to be more careful about what she eats in the future.”
“It wasn’t her fault.” I was so distressed by what had happened to Noreen I forgot my policy of not discussing the case. It was a relief to talk to someone who wasn’t a suspect. “I think someone tried to kill her.”
“You sure?”
“Not a hundred percent, but—”
“You should go to the police.”
“And have them running all over Lu’arna Island seeing ghosts and—I don’t think so.”
“Why would someone want to kill Noreen? Didn’t you tell me she was nice?”
“Very nice. I think someone was prepared to kill to keep her quiet.”
“I’m intrigued. What did she know?”
“Just something she found on a genealogy site,” I said, as I watched the aunts disappear around a corner. Quinn hung back. “A name, I think. But she ate the peanuts before she could tell me.”
“This gets more and more intriguing.”
Quinn gestured for me to hurry.
“Look, I have to go.”
“Take care, Allegra. I hope Noreen gets better and gives you the information.”
“Yeah, me too.” I hurried over to Quinn. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
He didn’t explain why he’d hung around. All he said was, “The aunts needed coffee. They’ve gone to Café Noir.”
“I’ll meet you there.” Returning to Dylan, I told him where we were going. “Want to join us?”
“Sorry, I can’t. Gotta see the doctor.”
“I thought you’d already seen—never mind. I must’ve misunderstood.”
He said, “I guess you won’t be spending any more time on my yacht now that you’ve been rehired.”
“Not until the case is solved.”
“Ah, my loss. Maybe you’ll solve it before I leave Tahiti.”
“I hope so.”
“Call me when you’re done.”
He leaned forward and brushed my lips with his.
I caught up with Quinn and began the walk to Café Noir. Without Dylan the prospect of visiting Sophie’s place was less than appealing.
“Count me out,” I said.
Quinn shot me a surprised glance. “It’s not like you to refuse coffee.”
“I need some time alone,” I lied as we approached the umbrellas. “Could you get me a takeout?” But before I could escape down a side street, Sophie saw me and rushed over.
“Allegra, I did not expect you to come so soon. I thought you were avoiding me.” Good guess, Sophie. I so did not want to have the tête-à-tête with her.
Lowering my voice, I said, “Look I know there’s something going on between you and Casper. I just don’t know—”
She held up her hand to stop me. She really did have beautiful hands. With long slender fingers. I could almost see them stroking Casper’s ego. I told myself not to be silly. Casper had said there was nothing between them. I should believe him not Dylan.
“May we have the civilized talk?” she asked.
Quinn had gone inside to grab a table and place our orders, but Lyn and Evie hung around outside close enough to eavesdrop. Lyn pretended disinterest, but Evie’s eyes darted back and forth between us as though she was at a Wimbledon Final.
Sophie faced the aunts. “You will excuse us, please? We must have the private talk.”
“Don’t mind us,” said Evie, who continued to watch us, goggle-eyed.
“Come on,” sighed Lyn, taking her arm and ushering her inside.
Frankly, I’d been hoping the aunts would stay so our tête-à-tête could be postponed, but when they went inside, I reluctantly followed Sophie to a table beneath a huge black and white umbrella.
“You are well?” she began as we waited for our coffees to arrive.
“Perfectly well.” No need to mention the problems with the case. “And you?”
“Yes. Very well.” She was totally calm and composed. Me? I played with my spoon, crossed and uncrossed my legs.
“Listen,” I said finally, “I don’t like small talk. Could you just spit it out?”
She was confused. “Spit what out?”
I’d forgotten English wasn’t her first language. I rephrased. “Talk to me. What did you want to say face-to-face?”
“It is about Casper.”
Was she going to confess they were in love? I’d need to be fortified with caffeine to deal with that. “Do me a favor? Save it until the coffee arrives.”
“If you wish.”
We lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. The bruises on Sophie’s face were fading, but her arm was still in plaster reminding me that she deserved a good man. Our coffees arrived and after only one sip, she said, “You love Casper, no?”
“No.”
“I do not think that is the truth. I can see the love when you look at him.”
“Casper and I are old mates. I like him a lot, but love? It’s not really possible between us.” Sophie started to interrupt, but I went on, “Let’s forget about me for a moment. Are you in love with Casper?”
“Ah, oui, oui, this is important. This is why I want us to talk. I am not your—what is the word?”
“Friend? Enemy?”
“Non—when two women want the same man.”
“Rival?”
She nodded. “I am not your rival.”
“So what is
your relationship with him?”
“Like you, Casper and I are…mates.” I might have believed her if she hadn’t chosen that moment to gently touch her belly.
My heart broke. If Casper had been mortal, I’d have walked away. Tis a far, far better thing I do, blah blah blah. Sure it would’ve hurt, but anything to ensure Casper’s happiness. Although this wasn’t as simple as losing him to another woman. He couldn’t live with her the way a mortal man could. Under his Rules of Conduct, he was forbidden to have sex, let alone father a child. When the Powers-That-Be found out about them, Casper would be up the proverbial creek. I said, “I know you’re trying to protect him by denying he’s the father of your child.”
“Non, non, Horst is the father of my child.”
“Casper’s real name could be Horst.” Or Helmut or Gunter or any other German name.
“I did not know this. But Casper is not my baby’s father. You must believe me.” She sounded very convincing. Even my gut was convinced. But although I believed she was telling the truth, I didn’t think it was the whole truth.
“How did you meet Casper?” I asked.
“He has been coming to Papeete for years. On vacation. He likes my coffee.”
“It’s a long way to come for coffee,” I said, before reminding myself that Casper could fly anywhere in the world in a matter of minutes.
Sophie went on. “He has helped me very much. He helps me when I am—”
“—in danger?”
Could she be his morsub? Casper had told me angels only had one morsub at a time. And angels didn’t lie. Of course, I only had Casper’s word for that.
“The life of a café owner is not dangerous,” said Sophie. “Casper helps me in other ways. He gives me the shoulder to cry on.”
Sounded like he was nothing more than her friend, but my gut screamed there was more to their relationship. Was it a case of not admitting they loved one another? Was Sophie afraid Casper would reject her because she was pregnant with someone else’s child? And what of Casper? If he wanted to go to Heaven, he had no choice but to reject her.
My head ached. I was going ’round in circles and getting nowhere.
“We are not lovers,” said Sophie.
Was she trying just a little too hard to convince me? I might have called her on it, but Quinn chose that moment to stride over and tell me it was time to return to Lu’arna.
Chapter Sixteen
Noreen had been unable to give me the name of Albert’s descendant so I had no choice but to snoop in the staff cottages. If I were a better person, I’d have been ashamed or at least embarrassed about going through everyone’s stuff, but you know me, I’m nosy and I’ll do whatever it takes to solve a case.
The four staff cottages were clustered around the staff pool, which lay to the west of Oak’s house. Each cottage had glass doors opening from their living rooms onto the gardens near the pool. Fortunately, their front doors faced the opposite direction and opened onto narrow garden paths. It was unlikely anyone would see me enter, but because of all that glass facing the pool, I had to be careful no one saw me moving around inside.
I tackled Vincent and Therese’s cottage first since they were both out working. Therese kept her own place as clean and tidy as she kept everything else on the island, which was bad luck for me because I had to put everything back exactly where I’d found it. I began in the living room, checking under chairs and sofa cushions, in every CD and DVD case. I checked the containers in the fridge, where I found olives and pate and chocolates. I swear I didn’t take anything, not even a peppermint cream. Of course I’d have taken the map, but I didn’t find it in the fridge.
Searching the bedroom without disturbing the neatly folded clothes took some time, but I was determined to be thorough. I looked in every shoe, in every pocket of every piece of clothing, under the bed, behind pictures and between the pages of the French novels beside the bed. The search took longer than I expected and I was still there, rehanging one of the pictures, when someone said, “Vincent and Therese are coming back.”
I jumped and dropped the picture. “Casper. What the—?” But all his attention was on the falling picture. He dived in front of me and caught it before it smashed on the tiled floor.
Outside I heard voices, followed by the sound of a door opening. Crap, they were already inside. Vincent said something in French and Therese giggled. Footsteps moved to the bedroom. There was no time to get out. I rehung the picture and scrambled under the bed. Casper joined me. Interesting move, since he could easily have become invisible and walked right past them.
Vincent and Therese moved around the bedroom speaking French and discarding clothes. Whenever he dropped a garment, she stooped to pick it up. Each time I held my breath, expecting her to glance under the bed, but she was more interested in tidiness than checking for burglars. Why would she bother? They didn’t have burglars on Lu’arna. At least not until I came along.
The mattress dipped as they got into bed. Four o’clock was a bit early for sleep. I mean, they hadn’t even had dinner. I whispered close to Casper’s ear, “Get me out of here before they do the horizontal mambo.”
“Wait,” he whispered back.
I blocked my ears against the grunts and moans above us. I did not need to hear someone getting what I wasn’t. Especially with Casper lying so temptingly beside me. I shifted slightly, not close enough to touch him, but close enough to feel his body heat and inhale his scent of mountain streams, rugged earth and hot male warrior.
Vincent and Therese’s movements intensified. They talked a lot while they made love, which was a bit like listening to a French movie without subtitles. I was really glad I didn’t understand what they were saying. They had reached their peak and we were in danger of being crushed by the undulating mattress when Casper wriggled out from under the bed and beckoned me to follow him. We commando-crawled across the bedroom floor and into the living room. From there it was a quick tiptoe outside.
“Ew,” I shuddered, as we hurried away from the cottage. “I feel so…ew.”
Trying to distract me, Casper said, “Did you find anything interesting in there?”
“Not unless you mean French lovemaking techniques.” Getting a grip, I said, “There was no sign of the missing half of the map, and believe me I looked everywhere. Guess I’ll have to tackle another cottage now. Will you stand lookout for me?”
Before he could answer, we heard the splash of someone diving into the staff pool. When I saw it was Quinn, I decided to put off any further searching until the staff were all safely at dinner.
* * *
The path back to my cottage led past the aunts’ place. Casper had disappeared after saving me from discovery by Vincent and Therese, so I was alone when the door suddenly opened and Lyn pulled me inside.
“We have something to tell you,” she said, looking at Evie. When Evie remained silent, Lyn prompted, “Tell her.”
Evie fidgeted, clenching and unclenching her hands. Her anxious glance flicked between Lyn and me. “Really, Lyn, I’m not sure we should say anything.”
“Allegra needs to know.”
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” said Evie.
“If you don’t tell her, I will.”
Evie folded her arms. “Go on then. You be the bad guy.”
By this time, I was rigid with suspense. “I don’t care who tells me. But one of you better or I might have to hurt you.”
Lyn said, “Evie saw someone steal something from your cottage.”
Evie corrected her. “It wasn’t exactly stealing. All the booze is free on Lu’arna.”
“But it was in Allegra’s cottage,” insisted Lyn.
I thought I knew what they were referring to. “Did the theft involve a bottle of gin?”
Evie said, “I couldn�
��t say for sure whether was gin, but it was definitely a bottle. You see, I’d been watching the ocean with my binoculars. My fingers were sweaty and the binoculars slipped until they just happened to be pointing at the door of your cottage. I just happened to see someone coming out. I wasn’t spying on you or anything.”
I couldn’t care less if she had been spying just so long as she told me who’d taken the gin.
Lyn nudged her. “Tell Allegra who it was.”
“I’m not comfortable with this.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” snapped Lyn. “It was Polly. Now why would she need to steal gin from your cottage? She must have her own supply. We all have minibars, even the staff.”
Except that Oak might ask questions if the gin in Polly’s fridge started rapidly disappearing. He might think she had a drinking problem. He might even fire her if he was concerned about safety in the kitchen. And that would be a bummer because Polly wanted to remain on the island. At least she did, if I was right about her being Forresttia’s descendant.
I have to admit I was surprised. I hadn’t thought it was Polly. A chef attempting murder by tampering with food was too obvious. Still, maybe Polly was just dumb. It happened. I had no doubt the gin she’d taken from my cottage had been used to get Queenie drunk in the hope she’d give Polly her half of the map. And that meant Polly must have the other half. I could barely contain my excitement.
“We don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” said Evie. “But if Polly has a drinking problem, maybe she really did put the peanuts in Noreen’s salad by accident. I hope we did the right thing telling you about it.”
“You absolutely did,” I reassured her. “But for now let’s keep this between us. I’ll speak to Oak about Polly’s—um—drinking problem.”
When I escaped from the aunts’ clutches, I headed back to my cottage, where I prowled around until I was sure all the staff would be at dinner. Then I set out for Polly’s cottage.
Her place looked like it had been trashed by a weather witch suffering PMS. In the living room, dirty plates littered the coffee table. Stained mugs congregated with glasses containing shriveled pieces of lime. An e-reader lay on the floor beside a mountain of chocolate wrappers. I’m not such a great housekeeper myself, but searching through this mess was totally depressing. Although, on the positive side, Polly would never know anyone had been through her stuff. Until she realized her half of the map was missing, of course. Trouble was, I still had to find it.