Death Benefits

by Hannah Alexander

  ELEVEN

  A tune played in Ginger’s head through the heavy darkness. It mingled in harmony with the song of the waves through the screen of her open window. It was a catchy tune, with a great rhythm, one that made a person feel like dancing.

  Then she awakened and opened her eyes. The tune continued to drift through the darkness. The illuminated numbers on her bedside clock told her it was four in the morning. The tune came from her purse on the padded bench at the end of her bed.

  Someone was calling her on her cell phone.

  She sat up as the tune ended. Why hadn’t she turned that stupid thing off last night? In fact, why hadn’t she left it at home? Nobody ever called her on it except Graham.

  But Graham wouldn’t be calling her now. He was fast asleep in his own room. Must be someone from back home, perhaps a wrong number.

  Before she could drift back to sleep, she heard another sound come through the screened window. She knew it well. It was a rooster crowing.

  “I don’t believe this,” she muttered, turning over in bed and pulling the pillow around her ears. Roosters didn’t crow at 4:00 a.m. in Hideaway.

  Or maybe they did, and because she and Graham kept the windows closed at night, she’d never heard them before. Roosters crowed at lights. Not only the sunlight, but sometimes bright moonlight, or an electric light left on overnight. They must crow here on the shoreline a lot, with all the lights Ginger could see from her window.

  The phone beeped to tell her that someone had left her a message. Then, before she could decide what to do, the music started again. The crowing grew louder. Obviously the crazy bird had strutted nearer to the window, hoping to compete with the sound of the cell phone.

  With a sigh, Ginger got out of bed, longing for the earplugs she’d left at home.

  Ray couldn’t believe his ears, and when he looked at the clock, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Four o’clock? What crazy rooster would crow at four in the morning?

  Not that he was a country boy anymore. He hadn’t lived on a farm since he’d graduated high school, but he knew roosters in Missouri at least had the decency to wait until the sun lightened the sky before they had the audacity to awaken people.

  Another rooster joined the first, loud and close. Though Ray’s room was on the fourth floor, the sound carried well. He imagined the rest of the wedding party might also have left their windows open. If they had, there would be some groggy people in the morning.

  He slipped from bed and pulled on the clothes he’d removed a few hours ago. Ginger was irritated enough with his presence on this trip. He hated to think what her attitude would be if she lost another night of sleep.

  Graham and Willow deserved better for their wedding day.

  Sliding his key card into the back pocket of his slacks, Ray stepped from the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

  He was thinking about fried chicken for breakfast in a few more hours. The thought staved off some irritation.

  Ginger frowned at the number and name on the lighted screen of her cell phone. She unfolded the silly thing and answered. “Taylor Jackson? Is that you? Why are you calling at this hour?”

  “Sorry, Ginger, I didn’t even think about the time difference, but this is kind of important.” The deep voice carried across the miles with comfortable familiarity. “I tried to call Graham, but his cell phone is apparently turned off. I would have tried to find the number for the hotel next, but since I’ve got you, I’ll talk to you.”

  “Please tell me this is just a friendly call to wish the bride and groom a happy wedding today.”

  “Uh, sorry. I mean, I do wish them a happy wedding, but this is official business.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well, I hate to tell you this, but Blaze Farmer was doing chores over at your place earlier this morning, and he noticed something strange.”

  She stiffened. “Something like what?”

  “Like we had about an inch of snow here late yesterday morning after you left, and he saw footprints around the side of the house, leading to the front door. So he used his key to go inside, especially after the excitement we had there the other night.”

  Oh. No. “What did he find?” she asked, afraid of what he would tell her.

  “Sorry to say this, but it sure did look like somebody searched the house. Didn’t you have a calendar on the kitchen wall beside the sink?”

  “Yes. That’s where I keep my monthly schedule.”

  “That’s what Blaze said. Did you take it with you to Hawaii?”

  “No, I brought a copy.”

  “It isn’t there now. Did you have anything on it about your trip?”

  “Sure I did. I marked off every day for a month, preparing for this trip. We had notes all over the house reminding us about what to pack. As it was, I forgot to pack Brittany’s bear. Did you see any signs of forced entry?”

  “None, but anyone with a few simple mechanical skills could pick the locks easily enough. It isn’t as if the place is Fort Knox.”

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Ginger said.

  “I think I’ll call the sheriff, and maybe even become self-destructive and call Tom in on it.”

  Ginger knew Taylor Jackson had a longtime competition going with Tom Bremer, the sheriff’s deputy, and it was hard for Taylor to swallow his pride and ask for Tom’s help. This must be bad.

  “Please don’t tell me you think this could be Sandi Jameson’s killer,” she said.

  “That’s who I’m thinking. Rick Fenrow has motive, and he has opportunity now that he’s out of prison. His father most likely had money squirreled away all over the place, and Rick would have known where to find it.”

  “Thanks for that comforting assurance,” she said with a sigh.

  “You’re welcome. I’m going to start making some calls and see if I can get to the bottom of this thing before I have to disturb you again.”

  “Let me give you Larry Bager’s number. He’s here with us. He needs to earn his keep.” Ginger gave the number to Larry’s room, hung up, then returned to bed and closed her eyes. It would be no good calling her brother at this time in the morning. Graham couldn’t do anything about a break-in at Hideaway.

  She was about to nod off when that abominable rooster crowed once more. It was one time too many.

  Shoving her blanket aside again, she sprang from the bed, stalked to the sliding-glass door and slid it open to step out onto the lanai. “Stupid roosters.”

  Last night at the airport she’d thought they were so beautiful, wandering free around the grounds.

  They weren’t beautiful now, they were obnoxious. The gentleman at the front desk had explained that during a past hurricane the domesticated chickens had escaped from their pens, then had propagated. Profusely, it seemed.

  Another crow disturbed her, and she glanced in the direction of the noise to see a shadow moving—not a chicken, but something much larger. She gasped, then scrambled back inside and grabbed up the receiver of the room phone.

  Larry answered on the first ring. “What is it?” He sounded groggy and irritable.

  “This is Ginger. Someone’s lurking in the shadows outside.”

  The grogginess receded. “Where?”

  “Below us in that little copse of palm trees.”

  “Could be security.”

  “Hiding in the shadows?” As soon as she spoke, there was a squawk and cackle. “The chickens are raising the alert. Don’t you have your window open? Can’t you hear that?”

  “You have your window open? Ginger Carpenter, are you crazy? Use some common sense, woman!”

  “I am. We’re on the fourth floor. No one’s getting to us from outside.”

  “You don’t know what this man is capable of,” Larry snapped.

  “Why don’t you go downstairs and make sure the lurker isn’t up to something? The security might not be the tightest around here, and I especially doubt they’re prepared for the likes of Rick. It isn’
t as if they have a lot of crime on this island.”

  “I’m on it. Close your window and make sure the other windows in your suite are shut and locked.”

  She did as she was told, then slipped quietly into the room Willow shared with the girls. She sank into the recliner, sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep the rest of the night.

  Ray herded the squawking chickens out onto the sand, then stood watching them for several minutes to make sure they kept going in the right direction. He’d been told last night when checking in that security kept close watch on the wandering fowl in this area, and that there was seldom a problem. This must be a fluke.

  For a moment, tired as he was, Ray stared out at the rolling breakers and luxuriated in the feel of the salt air on his skin, the scent of it, the cool breeze on his face. Paradise. Enchantment.

  Though he’d traveled to Hawaii twice before, those trips had been for continuing medical education conferences on Maui and Oahu. This trip was to celebrate the vows of two people in love.

  It seemed to him as if he could feel the difference in the air on this island.

  “Ray Clyde, you’re a hopeless romantic fool,” he muttered under his breath as he turned to walk back to his room. Hopeless was definitely the word. The difference in the air probably had something to do with the approaching storm.

  A shadow moved to his left. A man stepped from beneath the eave of the building and came toward him. Fast.

  Ray thought suddenly about Fenrow. Had that escaped con truly been able to follow and find them here in such a short time? Instinctively backing away, Ray reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

  “Stop right there and put your hands where I can see them,” the man said. “Now!”

  Heart pounding as loudly as the waves, Ray did as he was told. The man marched across the grass, pistol in hand and at the ready. The familiarity of the voice registered, and Ray groaned.

  “Larry, is that you?”

  The man stopped.

  “It’s me, Larry. Ray Clyde. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night holding up strangers with a gun?”

  Larry didn’t redirect his pistol immediately, as if he wasn’t convinced of Ray’s authenticity. “What are you doing, lurking in the tree shadows below Willow’s suite?”

  “I wasn’t lurking, I was chasing away a disturber of the peace.”

  The pistol lowered, and Larry stepped closer. “How long have you been down here?”

  “Long enough to get the job done, why?”

  “Were you beneath those trees over there?” Larry asked, pointing toward a stand of palm trees and poinciana.

  “I wasn’t even near there. I came around from the other side and ran full tilt at the roosters.”

  Larry stepped closer. “If that’s so, then can you tell me why Ginger looked down from her lanai and saw someone standing there?”

  “Did she say it was me?”

  Larry hesitated. “No, but I hoped it was.”

  “Security, then?”

  “I spoke with security before I came out here,” Larry said. “There wasn’t anyone in this area.”

  Ray cast a glance around them. “It wasn’t me, Larry. Look, do you think we could continue this conversation on the way back upstairs? We could both use some beauty sleep. Morning’s here, according to some psycho roosters.”

  Larry, too, cast a glance around. “Yeah. Could just be someone else got tired of the wake-up call.” But he didn’t sound convinced. He turned and led the way back to the building.

  Ray followed, unable to resist one more glance into the surrounding shadows. Things had to get better than this. Today was a wedding day, after all. And this was Hawaii. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen in paradise.

  TWELVE

  Far too early on Tuesday morning, Ginger met Willow in the small kitchenette of their suite with a cup of coffee. “This will get those eyes open. It’s heavily leaded.”

  Willow accepted the cup with a smile. She looked well rested, which meant she hadn’t been awakened by the early morning serenade of the chickens. “You’ve been up awhile?”

  “Too long.” Ginger took a too-large gulp from her own cup, then winced as the brew burned down her throat. “Today’s the big day. If we’re going to get some shopping done before we leave for the river, we’d better get started soon after breakfast.”

  Willow studied Ginger’s face. “You know, we don’t actually have to do any shopping this morning. You have your dress, and even though I think the girls would love new Hawaiian dresses for the wedding, it isn’t totally necessary.”

  Ginger grimaced. “I look that bad?”

  “You always look beautiful, but you don’t look rested. Didn’t sleep well last night?”

  “I got a few hours before the chickens decided it was morning.”

  Willow chuckled. “I thought I heard a rooster crow, but decided I must have dreamed it.”

  “Did you hear anything else?” Ginger asked.

  “Nope. I was pretty much dead to the world last night. I wouldn’t have expected it, with all of today’s excitement.”

  Ginger nodded, relieved. There would be time later to fill Willow in on the call from Taylor Jackson.

  “I didn’t get a chance to ask you last night because of the girls, but did you and Ray ever get things straightened out?” Willow asked.

  “Not exactly, and I’m sure this won’t be the time for it. This is your day.”

  “Yes, and hopeless romantic that I am,” Willow said, giving Ginger a pointed look, “I would love to see everyone getting along and happy together.”

  “I’ll be a perfect angel. Just keep Ray Clyde out of my gun sights.” Ginger said it lightly, intending for Willow to take it as a joke.

  Willow didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. With a quiet sigh, she set her coffee cup on the counter in the kitchenette and placed a hand on Ginger’s arm. Her earnest eyes focused intently on Ginger. “You don’t think the two of you will be able to work this thing out?”

  Ginger was sorry she couldn’t be more accommodating. “The problem didn’t develop overnight—well, okay, to me it did seem to happen that way, even though I know Ray must have planned things without my knowledge for quite some time. But a decision that impacted my whole life? It’ll take some time for me to come to terms with.”

  “I know I must sound like a nag,” Willow said, retrieving her cup for another sip. “I only want to see you happy.”

  Ginger bit her tongue. She would not state the obvious—that she would be much happier if Ray was back in Missouri right now. Willow already knew that.

  “I chose you to be my matron of honor because you have become like a sister to me,” Willow said softly. “As a favor to me on this special day, would you please try one more time?”

  Ginger scowled at her. “You know, I remember when you didn’t hesitate to tell me when I was being too pushy or invasive in your life.”

  “That’s right, but I’m learning some of your bad habits.”

  “Excuse me, but this habit came straight from Graham. Don’t forget that.”

  “This is important to me.”

  “Fine,” Ginger said, with as much graciousness as she could muster under the circumstances. “I’ll do my best to play nice, but I’m only doing it for you.”

  Willow grinned and gave Ginger a quick, one-armed hug, careful to keep her coffee from spilling. “I know you don’t believe this right now, but you’ll be doing it for yourself, as well. Let’s get the children up and go to breakfast.”

  The elegant hotel dining area had windows from ceiling to floor that offered an enchanting view of the ocean. Ray could happily sit here and sip his herbal tea all morning as he watched the roll of the waves, the kiss of morning sunlight on the palms, the brilliant display of flowers, both inside the building and out on the well-manicured grounds. The waves were huge this morning, and he couldn’t help thinking about the storm. There were red flags along the beach, a warning
not to swim in the ocean.

  He didn’t drag his gaze from the wild beauty until Graham joined him at the small table for two.

  “You look like death” came Graham’s cheery greeting.

  Ray made a face. “Jet lag.”

  “And maybe the effects of some nighttime wandering?”

  “Larry told you about our rooster chase last night?”

  “He hadn’t intended to, but I heard the crowing and got up.”

  “Don’t tell me you saw someone lurking in the trees, too.” Now that Ray noticed, Graham also looked tired.

  “I didn’t see anyone but you and Larry having an argument before you returned to the building,” Graham said. “I asked him about it this morning, and he confessed about the phone call from Taylor Jackson in the early morning—something he apparently hadn’t planned to tell me today.”

  Ray frowned and shook his head. “Taylor Jackson?”

  “You mean he didn’t tell you, either? Taylor’s a local ranger who does extra time as a first responder in Hideaway, and sometimes helps out with law enforcement, since our town borders Mark Twain National Forest. Seems my house was invaded sometime after we left yesterday.”

  Ray set his cup down and leaned forward. “Any idea who that might have been?”

  “Can you guess?”

  “Rick Fenrow.”

  “Unfortunately. If it was him, and if he’s managed to evade the authorities, he could arrive here at any time. In fact, considering the circumstances Larry described, Fenrow might already be here—and could have been here for hours.”

  “No wonder Larry pulled a gun on me,” Ray said.

  “Sorry about that. He tends to have quick responses.”

  Again, Ray thought about the figure Ginger told Larry she had seen in the shadows of the trees. “I don’t suppose anyone has a photograph of this man, do they? Or could Larry pull up something on him from the police files? I need to be able to watch for him. We all do. The Courtneys should be alerted, as well.”