Murder at Barclay Meadow

by Wendy Sand Eckel

  To drop you in the drink. That’s the reason.

  Rosalie Hart

  He would never get away with it.

  Glenn B

  Maybe he has already. I’ve been doing some research on a possible profile of the killer. If the killer has gotten away with the crime, then it may give him or her a sense of invincibility. It also may have given him or her pleasure. So if the professor killed Megan without consequence, then why not kill you? Oh. That was awful to say. I forbid this, Rosalie. Good Lord. Now I sound like Henry the VIII.

  Tony Ricci

  You got yourself worked up there, Pops.

  Rosalie Hart

  What if we come up with a plan. Some way to protect me.

  Shelby Smith

  Tony could follow you in his dinghy.

  Tony Ricci

  I’ve always hated the word dinghy.

  Glenn B

  I’ll go along. We could have cell phones and flares. You could text us if something is amiss.

  Tony Ricci

  I’m in. We can follow the boat from a safe distance.

  Rosalie Hart

  This is all sounding good. I am admittedly terrified. But whatever you do, don’t call the sheriff. He would gladly help Nick secure the line around my neck.

  Shelby Smith

  So what will you say to him, Rosalie?

  Rosalie Hart

  I don’t know. I hope he’ll get a little tipsy and confess.

  Shelby Smith

  But why does he want to spend time with you?

  Rosalie Hart

  To learn how much I know? Do I tell him? Do I tease him with a few facts like I did the sheriff? Maybe I’ll just use it as an opportunity to get a better read on him. If he threatens me in any way, well, then we know he has violent tendencies.

  Glenn B

  I think I need a Tums.

  That Friday evening I stood in the kitchen and sliced an asiago baguette I had seasoned with oregano and sea salt. I agonized over what to wear for my night with the professor. I had no idea what message I wanted to send. I just knew I wanted him to talk. I was glad he was bringing wine. Maybe a little lubrication would loosen his lips. I finally decided on a pair of jeans and a slightly snug black sweater. Absolutely no red this time.

  Tyler moseyed into the kitchen. “It sure is quiet around here without Annie.”

  “She enjoyed you, too, Tyler.”

  He shook the carafe to see if it held any more coffee. “There aren’t too many kids like her.”

  “How’s your finger?”

  “This finger is a lot like your divorce. I don’t welcome the attention nor the need to focus on myself.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “You weren’t listening.”

  I pressed my lips together, evening out the recently applied gloss, and checked my watch.

  Tyler eyed me. “Where are you off to in that perfume?”

  “Just a sail with a new acquaintance.” I looked away. The room was still warm and aromatic from the bread. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge,” I said. “That lentil dish I made—”

  “Rosalie,” Tyler interrupted. “I can fend for myself.”

  I watched him go. Dickens uncharacteristically trotted after him. I stared at the spot where he had stood. The mug of coffee was cooling. I’d thought from the day Tyler strode down my lane that he could read my mind. I had no doubt he had done it again. I wanted to call after him—to tell him I wasn’t interested in Nick. I wanted to blurt out the whole story about our investigation. I wanted to tell him how much I loved having him here, taking care of him …

  Tyler’s boots were heavy on the stairs, followed by the scritch-scratch of Dickens’s nails. I would fix things with Tyler later. I needed to refocus. I had a mission. After looping the basket of bread over my arm, I grabbed a rain jacket and headed out the door.

  Nick was already on my dock, tying a line around a piling. As I passed the spot where I found Megan, my stomach somersaulted and I had a massive urge to turn around and run back up the bank.

  “Ahoy,” Nick said.

  I squared my shoulders. “Permission to come aboard?”

  “An eager sailor,” Nick said. “I like that.” He climbed in first, took the bread from my hands, and helped me onto the boat. “How are you?”

  “A little nervous.” I sat on one of the cushions.

  “Nervous?” He looked puzzled. “Why would that be?”

  “I’ve only sailed once.” I gripped the side of the boat. “Shall we go?”

  I nonchalantly looked around until I spotted Tony and Glenn. They were hunched over fishing poles fifty yards away. I was ridiculously relieved to see them.

  “Those guys will never catch anything at this time of night,” Nick said as he busied himself around the boat. “Must be a couple of amateurs.”

  “What guys?” I said.

  “Those guys over there in that tiny boat.”

  I thought briefly of what Tony’s reaction would be if he heard Nick refer to his boat as “tiny.” I looked back at them. Glenn had noticed my arrival. He tapped Tony’s arm.

  As Nick untied the bow line, I said, “Can I ask you something?”

  He looked over at me. “Anything.”

  “Why did you invite me out tonight?”

  “Seems to me, you were the one to ask.” He tossed the line into the boat. The bow drifted away from the dock.

  “That’s true.”

  “You said you’re ready to date. Am I your first?”

  I avoided his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Are you working?” He turned a key and the small motor puttered awake.

  “Let’s just say I have a preoccupation.”

  “Intriguing.” He paused. “So, I have a lot to learn, then.”

  “As do I.” Our eyes met.

  Nick freed the stern line and unfurled a sail. It filled instantly. I was shocked at how fast we were already moving. I glanced over my shoulder. Tony was trying to jerk the outboard motor awake. Hurry up, I thought.

  After a breezy sail up the river, the boat clipped around a bend. My hair was blasted against my skull. I hoped Nick didn’t notice how many times I looked over my shoulder, but it was like a nervous tic I couldn’t control. “Coming about,” Nick called. I almost slid off the seat when he made a sharp turn. He pulled in the sail and let the motor ferry us into a secluded cove.

  There were no houses, no docks, no sign of civilization, just marsh grasses and the squawk of a blue heron flying overhead, annoyed at the invasion. “Where are we?”

  “My oasis.”

  “You’ve been here before?” I said.

  “I love coming here.” Nick killed the motor and dropped anchor. “It’s the perfect spot for a date.”

  I glanced around. The water was motionless. The breeze had died. This place appeared utterly lifeless. “Did you bring wine?”

  “Oui,” Nick said and trotted down into the galley. I listened for Tony and Glenn. There. A motor. Yes. It grew louder and then … oh, no. They kept going. I searched my pocket for my phone.

  “Rosalie?”

  I looked up. Nick held a sweating bottle of French muscadet in one hand, two glasses in the other. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I do?” I tried to smile. “I had a text, is all.” I crossed my legs and smoothed my hair. “Parents never stop worrying, do we?”

  Nick continued up the steps and sat next to me. “Is everything okay with your daughter?”

  “I think so. Would you mind terribly if I texted her back? It will just take a second.” I typed with my thumbs. You passed us. We’re anchored in a cove on the left. I clicked send and stuffed my phone back into my jacket.

  He filled the wineglasses and held one out to me. “You sure everything is all right?”

  “It is now.” I accepted the glass and started to sip.

  “Slow down, mademoiselle. We need to toast.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  He
held it up to mine. “L’chaim.”

  “To life,” I said and took a long sip. Why did he just say that? I took another sip.

  “Someone is thirsty.” He tucked his arm around my shoulders. “Is this all right?” He squeezed my shoulder. Chills rippled down my arms.

  “Sure.” I finished my wine. “This is good wine.”

  “I’m glad I brought more than one bottle.”

  The sun hovered over the river shrouded in thin, wispy clouds. A cool breeze signaled the impending night. My nerves were completely frazzled. I needed to keep my wits about me, but I was losing focus. Why had I agreed to this? I held out my wineglass.

  “So, tell me,” Nick said as he poured, “why were you willing to go out with me now? What’s changed?”

  “Time?” Another sip. “Some time has passed since the initial shock of my divorce.”

  “There’s more.” He studied me. “I want to know.”

  Because I want to know if you are a murderer? I lowered my eyes. No. That won’t work. I had to keep this real. I looked into his eyes and thought for a moment. “I had dinner with my husband a few weeks ago.” I took a deep breath. “I haven’t really talked about this with anyone. But you see, all this time, I’ve been holding on to the fantasy that Ed and I would reunite. I think I was assuming this was just a phase, you know? That he would grow tired of his girlfriend and want our life back.”

  “And now you know that isn’t going to happen?”

  “Yes.” I sipped more wine. “It’s like he left me all over again.”

  “I’m sorry.” He stroked my hair. “That must be very difficult.”

  “You know what he said?” I shook my head remembering the moment. “He thanked me for being such a good sport about the divorce.”

  “He’s an idiot. I told you that the first time we met.”

  “So it’s time, right?” I finished my second glass of wine.

  Nick slipped my left hand into his. “I think I know something that might help.” He looked up. “Are you ready?”

  “What?” He placed his finger and thumb on my wedding ring. “What are you…?”

  It came off easily. The extra pounds, I thought. It had been loose for so long, I feared I would lose it. I sucked in my breath and stared down at my naked hand, so plain and unadorned. Age spots I’d never noticed before dotted my skin. I felt vulnerable without the talisman of my ring to protect me. My phone clanged.

  “You have a text message.”

  “I don’t care,” I said. My throat was tight, but I spoke the truth. My tie to Ed severed, my veins coursing with wine, I didn’t care about anything. I was spent.

  After tucking my ring into the front pocket of my jeans, he looked into my eyes. “You seem sad.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He squeezed my hand. “You’ve been through so much.” He stood and pulled me up next to him. “It’s getting chilly. Why don’t we go below?”

  I picked up my jacket and followed him down into the cabin. It glistened with heavily varnished honey-colored wood. I had seen this cabin before, but by the light of a flashlight months ago. I sat at the small table and Nick twisted a corkscrew into another bottle of wine.

  “What about you?” I said.

  “What about me?”

  “Your wife. What happened?”

  “She left me in September.” He pulled out the cork with a loud pop.

  “Why?”

  “I was having an affair.”

  “With who?”

  He laughed. “I don’t think that’s really significant. It’s over now, anyway.”

  “It’s an epidemic,” I said. “The infidelity.”

  He filled our glasses. “I was unhappy long before the affair. I don’t think it was a surprise to her. And I think she’s happier now without me.” He set the bottle on the table and sat next to me. “It’s true for most marriages, I think. The affairs come after trouble.”

  “I don’t agree. I think that’s what adulterers say after they’ve slept with someone to rationalize what they did.”

  “Ah, in vino veritas,” he said.

  “Well, it’s true, so yes, in vino veritas.”

  “I like that we are being honest with one another.”

  “Me, too.” I gave him a genuine smile. “You’re easy to talk to, you know that?”

  “Well…” He dipped his head. “It is my profession.”

  “So, in vino veritas. Who did you have an affair with? It helps me to know, Nick. I have been bowled over by my entire situation. Tell me how it came about for you.”

  “Although I had a few minor affairs before, this one was different.” He took a long swig of wine. He had been matching me sip for sip so far. “She was beautiful and passionate and pursued me relentlessly. She was—”

  “A student?”

  His eyes flashed. “Yes. But over twenty-one.”

  “This cove,” I said. “Is this where you carried on your affair?”

  He leveled his eyes with mine. “Sometimes.”

  “Is that how your wife knew?”

  “Rosalie…”

  “I told you about Ed. And you just removed my wedding ring from my finger. I believe it’s your turn.”

  He took another long sip. Keep it up, Nick, I thought.

  “Okay,” he said. “Fair enough. But that’s not how my wife learned of our affair. The girl? She emailed my wife. And she copied President Carmichael.”

  “That would put an end to things pretty quickly.” I held his gaze.

  He filled my glass again and I immediately took a sip. The wine was empowering me to go for it. I cleared my throat. “Why didn’t Carmichael fire you?”

  “Because I’m a rock star. My study is going to make me the next Kinsey.” He set his glass on the table and rolled his shoulders back. “I’ll be speaking all over the country and bringing in a hell of a lot of money. Do you think they would fire me because a student overstepped her bounds?”

  “How did you get her to leave you alone? Or did you keep seeing her after that?”

  A loud boom resounded through the cabin.

  “What the hell is that?” He bolted up the ladder. I followed. The sky glowed with a large red flame. “It’s a flare,” he said. “A boater must be stranded.”

  “We should help them,” I said. “Isn’t that in the boaters’ code of ethics?”

  Nick shook his head.

  “What if they’re sinking?”

  “You can see that flare for miles. Someone will call it in.”

  The wind had picked up, carrying a metallic scent. “Is there a bathroom?” I said. “I need to pee.”

  “Of course. I’ll show you how to flush.”

  “Isn’t there just a pedal thing?”

  “That’s right.”

  I felt immediately woozy as I descended back into the cabin. We still hadn’t eaten. Nick followed and watched as I walked into the head and clicked the door closed. When I stepped out, he was standing before me, my phone gripped tightly in his palm.

  “Nick?”

  “You weren’t texting your daughter.” His eyes smoldered under heavy lids.

  I stepped back. “No.”

  “Your friends are signaling you. They want you to answer their flare.” He shook his head. “Is that the best you could come up with?”

  I crossed my arms. “I want to go home.”

  “But you didn’t learn what you were hoping to. You might as well ask. What have you got to lose?”

  I looked up at him. “Did you sleep with Megan Johnston?”

  “Many times,” he said.

  “Why did she tell your wife? I thought she pursued you.”

  “Because I wouldn’t give her the internship. What else would you like to know?”

  “How did she die?”

  “She killed herself.” He didn’t even flinch.

  “I thought we were being honest.”

  “What makes you think I’m not?”

>   “Because she didn’t drown, that’s why.”

  He took a menacing step toward me. “Nobody cares about that anymore.”

  I avoided his eyes.

  “So, why do you?” he asked.

  I looked up, his lids were at half mast. “Maybe I don’t anymore, either.”

  “Now who’s lying?” He cocked his head.

  “I’d like my phone back.”

  He dropped it in my hand. He had powered it down. “Do those clowns in the boat know anything?”

  “They know I’m here with you.”

  “Accidents happen, my dear.”

  The wine swirled in my gut. I placed my hands over my stomach. “I need some air.”

  “Be my guest.”

  I squeezed past him and hurried up the ladder. Cold wind blasted my face. A roll of thunder vibrated the hull. I looked for an escape, but all I could see was darkness—sky, land, and water bleeding into one solid black. I noticed a boat hook tucked under the bench. I dropped to my knees and tried to free it. A good jab and I could shove him right into the water.

  “Stop. It’s secured.”

  I sat back on my knees. “There’s a storm coming.”

  Nick wore a yellow windbreaker over his sweater. He held a chunk of my bread in one hand and clutched a small joint in the other. After taking a long hit, he exhaled a thin stream of smoke. The ashtray, I thought. The prestigious professor smokes dope.

  I stood, keeping as much distance as I could between us. I gripped the side of the boat behind my back. “I want to go home.”

  His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry.”

  Terror constricted my throat. I wanted to scream, but no one would hear. Is this how he killed Megan?

  “You found her,” he said. “Didn’t you?”

  I nodded.

  He held the joint out for me.

  “No.”

  He took another toke. “What to do?”

  “My friends?” I said quickly. “They know about you.”

  “I’m getting bored.” His eyes darted around the deck. He walked over to a loose line and picked it up.

  My teeth chattered. I was losing control. He was going to strangle me with that line. I had to do something. “My friends won’t let the sheriff overlook it another time, no matter how much of a rock star you are.” I waited a moment before showing my best weapon. “You wrote on my Facebook wall that we would be together tonight. If I die, everyone will know it was you.”