Stormy Cove

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Stormy Cove Page 36

by Bernadette Calonego

On the other side of the hall, a mass of rotten something or other had gushed out of a lump that once might have been a sofa or a mattress.

  Lori got to work. Archie kept an eye on her through the holes in the walls.

  Very soon, beads of sweat dripped from her forehead. Why did today of all days have to be this hot in a place that was always cold?

  She went outside to get a bottle of water from her backpack.

  “I’d like to see the other side of the island,” she said.

  Archie was wiping sweat off his forehead as well. “There aren’t any shacks over there.”

  But maybe there’s evidence pointing to Marguerite de Roberval.

  “Oh, that’s fine,” Lori chirped. “I’m just so grateful to be here and I want to see as much as possible.”

  “OK, but first I need to get a beer from the boat. Don’t go far, I’m not very good on my hind legs.”

  Lori figured Archie would be gone awhile, so she wandered away from the shacks, determined to find the stone grotto she’d read about. The cave couldn’t be down near water level, but it also needed to be someplace protected from the wind, which ruled out the exposed heights above the cliffs. In Lori’s estimation, the cave couldn’t be very far from the little bay where they’d moored.

  She went around a deep ravine and climbed a hill to get a better view. The book had informed her that the island was eight miles long and three wide, much too big to be thoroughly explored.

  For better or worse, she’d have to ask for help from Archie. She took a shortcut to get back to the fish merchant’s house and stopped in a conveniently dense thicket to relieve herself. As she was finishing up, her eyes focused on a depression. A large hole overgrown with leaves opened before her—she’d been squatting just a few steps away! She pushed some branches aside, trying to see how deep the hole was. She pulled a flashlight from her backpack, but its beam didn’t reach the bottom.

  Then she had an idea. She tied her spare bootlaces to the flashlight and lowered it down into the dark.

  In the shaking light, Lori saw something white, gleaming faintly. Her heart beat wildly. She waited for the flashlight to stop swinging. Bones.

  She slowly moved the light back and forth. There was no doubt about it: a human skeleton lay there.

  It must have been Damienne, Marguerite’s servant. Or maybe Marguerite’s lover!

  Lori hauled up the flashlight and left the thicket. Dropping her backpack and tripod, she shouted for Archie.

  She couldn’t find him anywhere. When she reached the fish merchant’s house, Lori spotted Archie coming toward her from the spot where they’d separated.

  She motioned to him to follow her. He hesitated at first, but she yelled, “A skeleton! I found a skeleton!”

  That got him moving. He reached the shaft, breathing heavily, and kneeled down.

  His eyes followed her flashlight beam, but he didn’t say a word.

  Lori couldn’t contain her impatience. “Who could that be? Is it a grave?”

  “No, it’s a root cellar.”

  “A what?”

  “A deep pit in the earth for storing carrots and turnips and potatoes, sometimes berries and jam, because it’s cool down there in summer. And in winter nothing would freeze. You build a sod roof over it.”

  “How did people get down there?”

  “By ladder.”

  She looked at him in some puzzlement.

  “But then why is there a body?”

  He shrugged. His sweat-slicked face clouded over.

  Lori moved around to the other side of the cellar. Something green winked at her from the depths. “What’s that?”

  She squinted down the shaft. Now she could see clearly. Green beads.

  She froze. Green gems. A stolen bracelet.

  Lori slowly drew herself up, fighting against an invisible weight threatening to hurl her downward.

  “I think I know who it is.”

  Archie looked at her and then down into the pit.

  “That’s Una’s body.”

  “Bullshit!” Archie exclaimed.

  “Una stole a bracelet of green gems from Beth Ontara. There are green gems down there. It’s Una.”

  Archie fell silent. But his wrinkled face was working hard. He had to know she was right. He probably had seen Una wearing the flashy bracelet. Or perhaps Patience had told Archie about the theft in her anger over Una chasing Ches.

  “Oh my God!” Lori screamed as a terrible certainty seized her. “Oh my God!”

  Archie struggled to his feet. “I’m going back to the boat to radio a few people.”

  Lori picked up her backpack. “I’m coming too.”

  “No, it’s better if I go so you don’t have to drag all that stuff all over. I’ll be right back.”

  She didn’t argue, though she suspected there was something Archie wasn’t saying, and sat down in the shade. Her thoughts started whirling.

  Una was murdered. What else could it be? Either she was killed here or somebody had carried her corpse over to throw it into the root cellar.

  Lori took a swig from her water bottle and wondered if she should take some photographs.

  But this was a crime scene. And it was Una’s grave.

  Was her death somehow connected to Jacinta’s? Lori didn’t buy Greta’s story. It didn’t add up. How could Cletus possibly haul out a body from a bog on his own—and without sinking into it himself?

  But why would Greta lie? To protect somebody? But who could it be?

  Did Una know how Jacinta died? Is that why she was killed?

  Lori wished Noah were there so she could talk it over with him. He must have had doubts about Greta’s story too. Lori had wanted to ask him about it, but she was afraid. Afraid where the conversation might lead.

  She heard a sudden, muffled drone. She scanned the horizon but saw nothing.

  The droning sound came closer. Could it be the police so soon?

  Impossible. Archie was probably just getting to his boat now. So who could it be? She spotted something in the air over the ocean. A helicopter. An orange speck. Gideon Moore. Probably just passing by. He flew around the area all the time for oil companies.

  Did Archie see Gideon too? She was annoyed he’d left her alone in this terrible place. Who was he going to call anyway? His brothers? The police? The Coast Guard?

  A disquieting feeling crept over her. Her instincts told her to run to a nearby rock and climb up it, the camera around her neck. From there, she could see Archie’s boat and the little speedboat as well.

  She rotated her zoom lens to get a closer view.

  Some movement on board caught her eye. Archie came out of the wheelhouse carrying a rifle. What the hell? Did he think Una’s killer was prowling the island?

  That was absurd.

  She watched him lower the gun down into the speedboat to bring it ashore. What was he thinking?

  Lori followed him through the telephoto lens. Her uneasy feeling grew stronger.

  Archie hadn’t seemed upset about Una’s dead body. More like worried. Worried about what?

  She remembered Patience saying she’d complained to Archie about Una. Una had screamed at Patience that she knew Archie had a skeleton in the closet. What did she mean by that? Was she threatening Archie? Blackmailing him? But for what?

  Was this the insurance fraud she’d heard whispered about? Had Archie burned down his buddy Gideon’s lodge? The way he once burned Gideon’s boat, and they’d split the insurance money?

  The helicopter circled toward the island. She began to wave her arms frantically. The helicopter lost altitude and disappeared behind a hilltop.

  Lori dashed back to the bushes, grabbed her things, and ran toward the spot where the copter had come down. The racket of its rotors could still be heard. Gideon couldn’t be far away.

  She stumbled and struggled over rough terrain, and kept thinking she’d reach the helicopter any minute. But she was frustrated time and again. Her mouth was dry, and eve
n the light breeze didn’t cool her off. She started to climb up a hill to orient herself. Stopping to catch her breath, Lori looked up and saw movement. She looked closer and froze.

  On top of the hill was the silhouette of a slim figure. But it surely wasn’t . . . but it couldn’t be . . .

  She blinked to sharpen her vision. It must be a mirage, a hallucination.

  But the figure moved, waved to her, shouted something.

  As if pulled by magic threads, Lori dragged herself uphill, step by step. The climb seemed interminable. Why did she have this stupid, heavy tripod on her back?

  Again that voice calling above her, but she was breathing too hard to answer.

  Twenty feet to go, ten, five, one. Then Lori slid to the ground, only able to get two words out: “You? Here?”

  “I had to come,” Aurelia answered.

  “Why?”

  Aurelia sat down beside her. “Gideon said it was much too dangerous for you to be wandering around this place. The buildings are ready to collapse. And there are gorges everywhere.”

  “Archie—” Lori started to say.

  “Archie only thinks about himself. He hasn’t the slightest interest in watching after people who don’t know the place. How could he leave you on your own? You could trip and get hurt. Where is he, anyway?”

  “He went back to his boat to get a gun.”

  “See! All he thinks about is duck hunting.”

  Duck hunting. Of course! Exhausted, Lori closed her eyes. Was she losing her mind? Had the past days and weeks taken more of a toll than she’d realized? The awful events had come one after another, blow after blow, and she’d no real time to absorb them.

  She was suddenly struck by the silence. The noise of the helicopter’s motor had stopped. Lori looked around.

  “Where’s Gideon?”

  “He’ll be here in a minute. We saw you waving. Gideon sent me after you as soon as we landed.”

  Beth Ontara’s remark popped into Lori’s head. Aurelia, Gideon’s sister who keeps a tight rein on her younger brother. Aurelia, who helped him out at his office.

  “Where’d he land?”

  “On a helipad down there.”

  “There’s a helipad?”

  “Yes, didn’t you know? Because of the lighthouse on the north end of the island. But it’s unmanned now, all automated.”

  She turned her head. “Here he comes.”

  Gideon was obviously more used to flying aircraft than to hiking. Particularly on hot days. His T-shirt was dripping with sweat.

  “Well, we’ve found one stranded passenger,” he called, huffing and puffing. “Where’s Archie?”

  “He’s went to get his gun from the boat,” Aurelia replied.

  Gideon was startled. “His gun? Where’s he now?”

  “I don’t know. I lost sight of him,” Lori said.

  Gideon and Aurelia exchanged glances.

  “Didn’t he want to look for old tools in the shacks? Did he find anything?”

  “I don’t think so, but we—”

  “You’d better go look for Archie,” Aurelia broke in. “We don’t want him to mistake us for ducks.”

  It was meant to be funny, but nobody laughed.

  Gideon wavered. “So you were up at the shacks?”

  “Yes, but I wanted to get some pictures of the landscape and then saw your helicopter.”

  Something held Lori back from telling them about her blood-chilling find. She couldn’t absorb any more emotional stress at that moment. Her nerves were shot. She just wanted to get back to Stormy Cove and the safety of her own home. Let other people deal with Una’s grave.

  It had nothing to do with her. She’d had enough traumas dumped on her. She’d pried into too many deep dark secrets. Now she drew the line. Enough.

  It wasn’t her village. Not her business. Not her responsibility. Not her fault.

  But her resolution came too late.

  “He can’t be far,” Gideon said. “You two stay here. I don’t want to have to go looking for you too.”

  Lori was relieved not to have to help find Archie, but she wished they could wait for the two men in the shade.

  She offered Aurelia some water, who turned it down. She didn’t seem bothered by the sun.

  “Did you find any clues about Marguerite de Roberval?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “You know, there must be bodies buried around somewhere, three of them.”

  Lori didn’t say anything.

  “Her lover, her child, and her maid.”

  Lori still didn’t respond.

  “But they’ll probably never be found. What do you think?”

  “No idea.”

  “The soil isn’t very acidic here, so bones don’t dissolve—Did you know that?”

  “Yes, I learned that at the dig on the Barrens.”

  Lori put the bottle to her lips and took a drink.

  They both fell silent.

  Lori began to feel that anxiety again.

  “If Archie were duck hunting, shouldn’t we hear shots?” she inquired.

  Aurelia looked at her sideways.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Gideon shouldn’t have gone off without a gun. I should have warned him.”

  “About what? About Archie?”

  “Yes, he . . . he was giving me the creeps.”

  “Archie? How’s that?”

  “We found something.”

  “Oh.” Aurelia’s expression froze. “What?”

  “A skeleton in a pit. Aurelia, I think it’s Una. She had a bracelet with green gems, right?”

  Now it was Aurelia’s turn to be silent. She wrung her hands painfully, making Lori more and more agitated. She crunched caribou moss between her fingers.

  “That’s why I’m worried about the gun. What did Archie need it for? He didn’t say anything about ducks. Am I being paranoid or what?”

  “Gideon got all worked up when I told him that you were coming here to look for Marguerite’s cave. He said Archie never should have brought you out.”

  “Why? Did he . . . did Gideon suspect something? Was he worried about my safety?”

  But Aurelia didn’t seem to be listening. She was staring hard at the ocean.

  “Una was after Gideon. Even though she was married. She was after our money. I told her if she didn’t stop bugging Gideon I’d tell Cletus. But she didn’t listen.”

  Lori studied Aurelia closely, attempting to understand what she was saying.

  “Gideon and Una . . . Are you trying to say that they had an affair?”

  “For Gideon it was all in the past. He only had eyes now for Bella, his present wife. But Una just wouldn’t let it go. I confronted her about it. She said I shouldn’t get involved or else . . .”

  “Or else what?” Lori asked, increasingly distraught.

  “She saw me.”

  “Aurelia, I’m following you less and less.”

  “She saw me before the lodge burned down. She said she had a witness too.”

  “A witness? To what?”

  Lori still didn’t quite get it, but she felt a sinister hunch taking shape.

  “That I was there, in the lodge.” Aurelia’s voice sounded impatient, as if Lori were a dim-witted child.

  “Before the fire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you have anything to do with the fire? You couldn’t have—”

  “We needed the insurance money. Gideon wanted to start a new business. We didn’t have the money for anything like that. The lodge wasn’t making enough.”

  An invisible hand wrapped itself around Lori’s throat.

  “And Gideon knew that Una threatened to expose you?”

  “Yes, I told him.”

  Lori waited a second before saying, “And after that, Una disappeared.”

  Aurelia said nothing.

  “Una would never have given you away, Aurelia, because she’d already committed a crime by not telling the police what she knew.
And because she went into the lodge to steal something.”

  “But I didn’t know . . . I’d never have dreamed . . .” Her voice broke off.

  “That Gideon would kill her?” Lori said.

  Aurelia covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know how to save you, I don’t know how to save you . . .”

  Lori’s brain was working overtime.

  “We’ve got to hide, Aurelia, we’ve got to get away from here before he gets back.”

  She jumped up, but Aurelia didn’t budge.

  “Now you know everything about me. And about Gideon. What are you going to do?”

  Look for Archie. He’s got a gun. He went back for it when he heard the helicopter. Because he’d figured out who the killer was. He knows who brought Una here by helicopter, dead or alive. He heard the helicopter and knew he had to defend himself. Both of us.

  But Lori had abandoned the protective cover where Archie had left her.

  Spurred on by the courage of despair, she started talking a blue streak.

  “Aurelia, I won’t tell anyone. You’ve done nothing wrong. Nobody got hurt. You can’t turn me over to Gideon!”

  The librarian looked up at her, squinting in the sun. “But what about Gideon?”

  It dawned on Lori that Aurelia would defend her brother no matter what. She’d never let him down. Family ties were stronger than murder here.

  Lori fled, leaving her backpack and tripod behind.

  She staggered through thick undergrowth that slowed her down but provided visual cover. Gideon couldn’t possibly search the entire island, and if she and Archie didn’t get back to Stormy Cove before dark, then Noah would start moving heaven and earth.

  She frantically scanned her surroundings and decided to risk crossing a rocky plateau with sparse vegetation and little pools of water. She heard a shot, a second shortly after it, then a third.

  They seemed to come from the direction of the boat. Then silence. Her heart raced.

  Archie’s gun.

  She tore ahead. Twigs left bloody scratches all over her bare arms. Several times she had to pull her shoes out of the muck. Jacinta crossed her mind, but she kept pushing farther, farther, farther.

  Suddenly, she saw the shacks—she hadn’t realized she was heading back that way. But she couldn’t hide there—that would be the first place he’d look.

  She caught sight of two huge boulders several hundred feet away. She could reach them in a straight line, but that was over open terrain and she might be seen. So she decided to go through the bushes and approach the rocks from the back. But the bushes crackled and rustled, making far more noise than she liked.

 

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