Stormcatcher

by Colleen Rhoads

  She heard the sound of a vehicle and turned to see Simon get out of his truck. His eyes were shadowed, and his jaw looked as hard as Eagle Rock itself.

  “Let’s go,” he said abruptly. He stalked to the boat and stepped onto the deck.

  Wynne scrambled to her feet and hurried after him. With his mood obvious, she wouldn’t put it past him to leave her if she lingered.

  “Was—was it Amanda?” she asked quietly as he untied the rope and shoved the boat away from the dock.

  “Yeah.” Simon’s jaw twitched.

  A long silence descended as Simon fired the engine and the bow lifted as the boat sped away from shore. Wynne wanted to ask more questions, but she could tell he was in no mood for chitchat.

  “We’ll stop and pick up the rest of the crew,” Simon said. The boat moved toward the dock at Turtle Town.

  A few minutes later, two men waved as the yacht pulled up to the dock. One was about forty with stringy blond hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. He wore ragged cutoffs and a black sleeveless T-shirt. The other was about thirty with a freckled nose and reddish hair. His interested gaze swept over Wynne as he stepped aboard Thunderbird.

  “You’re as pretty as I heard you were,” he said. His snub nose was peeling from a sunburn.

  “Cool it, Joe,” Simon barked.

  Wynne’s smile faltered. Why did he sound so annoyed? She turned her smile back on full wattage. “I’m Wynne Baxter.” She held out her hand.

  “Joe Evans.”

  His firm grip enveloped her hand. He didn’t seem to want to let go. She gently tugged her fingers free and turned her gaze to the man behind him.

  “Hi.” She held out her hand to the other man.

  “Bjorn Poonen.” He had a faint Scandinavian accent. He briefly touched her fingers, and his cool gaze slid by her. He nodded to Simon. “You’re late, boss.”

  “Business to attend to. I should have called on your cell phone. Sorry.” Simon revved the engine and the boat began to move away from the quay.

  Wynne went to join Simon at the helm. “Where do you want to search first?” she asked as the shoreline disappeared. Gulls cawed over their heads, and the dull roar of the engine mingled with the sound of the wind and waves. The odor of oil and fuel drifted to her nose.

  Simon whipped the wheel to the right and the boat veered. “Right about here,” he said. “Jerry filed a trip itinerary in this direction.”

  “I would have thought you already looked here then,” Wynne said.

  “I did, but I didn’t look under the water. I thought he might be out here floating around and enjoying himself. I never saw any trace of the Superior Lady.”

  He moved to his equipment and began to fiddle with the controls. Joe slid into the seat at the panel. A beep began to sound as the sonar started to search below the surface of the water.

  Joe stared at the screen. “Let’s troll this meridian first.” His finger jabbed at the screen.

  “I can do that.” She scrambled into the seat Simon had vacated. Watching her speed, she pressed the throttle and the boat began to move slowly through the water.

  By three o’clock, they’d found nothing that showed up on the screen as more than rocks and boulders under the waves. Wynne knew they had a slim chance of finding Superior Lady. And it was going to be a long, hard time of it if Simon didn’t speak. He’d sat beside her all afternoon and barely uttered a word.

  The only sound had been that of the other two men talking in low tones out on the deck. She was tired of his attitude. What had she done?

  She cut the engine, and his head jerked around. “Why are you stopping?”

  “Look, if you want my help, you’re going to have to talk to me. It makes too long a day to stare at the water and say nothing. I might as well be out here alone for all the company you’ve been.”

  His lips tightened. “It’s not like we’re best friends.”

  “True. But I’m not your enemy. We’re on the same team. We might as well be friendly.”

  “I’m not good at small talk,” Simon said as he stared back at the screen.

  “I’m not talking about small talk. Tell me what you’re seeing, talk about how you got interested in the Viking search and where you’ve looked. It will help pass the time.”

  “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “You want to talk about what happened at the morgue?”

  Pain darkened his eyes. “The sheriff thinks I did it. I’m sure if we find the boat, we’ll be ordered not to disturb it.”

  “Oh, surely not, Simon.” Wynne couldn’t imagine Simon in a rage. He’d been morose today, but not dangerous.

  He shrugged. “I’ve been warned not to leave the island. Rooney is on a witch hunt, and I’m the one he has in mind for the stake.”

  “Why would he think that? Just because Amanda ran off with Jerry?”

  “Pretty good motive, don’t you think?”

  “Did you suspect there was anything going on between them before they disappeared?”

  He hesitated and looked away. “No.”

  She had a feeling he wasn’t telling her the truth, and a feeling of disquiet swept over her. She pushed it away. Max considered Simon his best friend. He stoutly defended him. She was probably probing too hard.

  “Why were you so sure then that Amanda was with Jerry?”

  He shrugged. “Someone saw her board the boat with a suitcase.”

  “Do you have any idea where they were heading?”

  He shook his head. “As far as I knew, Jerry was just going out for a few hours to test the Superior Lady. Amanda and I had planned to meet to discuss…things. When she was nowhere to be found, I asked around and discovered she’d gone off with Jerry.”

  He stated the words impassively. Wynne wondered how deeply he’d felt his fiancée’s defection. “Let’s see if we can figure out who might have wanted to harm either of them.”

  “Other than me, you mean?” His jaw tightened.

  “Did Jerry have any enemies?”

  “I’ve been wracking my brain about that all day.”

  “Explain to me the business setup. I don’t want to be nosy, but where do you fit in?”

  “I own about ten percent of the shipyard, but I don’t take any money out yet. We’re barely keeping our heads above water. Since I have an MBA, I run the office. Jerry was president, and Brian is vice president. Brian is the brains behind the designs while Jerry has always been the salesman. He could sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo.”

  “So with Jerry gone, how has business been going?”

  Simon shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Brian and I have been trying to take up the slack. We figured Jerry would surface when he was good and ready.”

  Wynne was disliking Jerry more and more. “Did he have any enemies?”

  Simon frowned. “We’d had to fire our manager two weeks before he disappeared. He’d embezzled ten thousand dollars. Right after that, we had a small fire in his old office. We managed to get it out before it did much damage, but I always wondered if he’d set it.”

  “Did the sheriff check it out?”

  “That was in the days of Andrew Mitchell, and he couldn’t be bothered. We never pressed charges about the embezzlement. Roger had been a friend of Jerry’s for years, and Jerry didn’t want to hurt Roger’s wife, Teresa. She was an old girlfriend.” He grinned. “Of course half the women in town were, too.”

  “Jerry must have been charming.” And if he looked like Simon, it would have been a dangerous combination. Not that Simon wasn’t appealing. His good humor and killer smile would have lured his own share of women.

  “So this Roger could have wanted to get back at Jerry for being fired. And maybe he was jealous that Jerry had once dated Teresa.”

  “Maybe. Nothing adds up though. Killing Jerry wouldn’t get Roger his job back. Look, we’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m sure it was an accident.”

  He didn’t sound sure. Wynne wondered why. “It might make him feel he’d evened
the score. Is he still on the island?”

  “Yeah. He opened a rival company. Shelby Boats.”

  Wynne had seen it the last time she’d gone to Turtle Town. “Even more of a reason,” she pointed out. “If the Superior Lady was such an innovation, maybe he was afraid of being run out of business.”

  “He hadn’t opened it yet.” Simon stretched his long legs along the deck.

  He was so overwhelmingly male. His strong legs were tanned and muscular. Wynne turned her gaze away. “Have you seen his boats? Could he be using the design of the Superior Lady?”

  “That would be stupid. I’d recognize it right off. He hasn’t launched anything yet.”

  “Any possibility of our getting a look in his shop?”

  “He’d never let me in there.”

  Wynne bit her lip. There had to be a way. “Max has been thinking of buying a new boat. Maybe I could get him to call, and me and Max could go look.”

  “Roger would likely be suspicious. He knows me and Max are friends, and I would likely be Max’s choice of a builder.”

  “True, but what can he say if Max calls? It’s worth a try.”

  Simon looked up, and his gaze was intent. “Why are you doing this? It isn’t your problem. I hired you to help find the boat, not solve a murder.”

  Murder. It was an ugly word, and it was the first time anyone had spoken it, though she’d thought it. “You think it was murder, don’t you?”

  Simon was silent for a long moment. “I don’t see how that boat could have gone down,” he said. “So maybe I do. I hope I’m wrong.”

  “I hope so, too,” she said. More than he knew. If the sheriff deemed it homicide, they had their work cut out for them to prove Simon’s innocence.

  FIVE

  “Brian, you in here?” Simon walked through the boat plant, his shoes squeaking on the concrete floor. The place had that deserted feel, but he’d seen Brian’s car out back. He dreaded telling Brian the news.

  “Is he here?” Wynne whispered.

  “He has to be here somewhere. His car is outside.”

  “Maybe he left with someone else.”

  A noise came from their left, then Brian’s head appeared over the top of the bulkhead.

  He stopped when he saw them. He began to smile when he saw Wynne. “You looking for me? I was working on the brightwork.” He joined them. Brian’s smile faltered when he saw the expression on Simon’s face. “I’m sorry, Simon. I know it must be hard.”

  “Thanks.” Simon hadn’t had time to examine how he felt. When Amanda left him, he’d been hurt but had soon realized he’d just been lonely, and she filled the spot. He’d thought she really loved him. For the first time, he began to wonder if she’d left with Jerry for another reason. He gave a slight shake of his head. She had her suitcase with her. He was grasping at straws.

  He dragged his attention back to his cousin. “Thanks. What else did the sheriff say?”

  “He—he asked a lot of questions.”

  “About me?”

  Brian nodded. “He wanted to know what you and Amanda had argued about the day before she disappeared with Jerry.”

  Luckily, Brian didn’t know what the argument was about. Simon gave a nod. “What else?”

  “Whether there were any disagreements between you and Jerry.”

  “He didn’t ask about any other enemies Jerry might have had?”

  “No.”

  “He thinks he’s found his man, and I’m it.” Simon’s gaze met Wynne’s, and the sympathy in her eyes lifted the cloud he’d been fighting all day. She didn’t really know him, yet she believed him. The more he was around her, the more he appreciated what he saw. She would be a powerful ally to anyone.

  The front door banged, and Simon heard an angry shout.

  “Lassiter, I know you’re in here!”

  It sounded like Amanda’s brother, Alan Whistler. Simon turned to see Alan stalk between two boats. His too-small head looked incongruous with his linebacker body. Dark eyes set too close together completed a picture of a body that didn’t quite go together.

  “Hello, Alan.” Simon stepped out to intercept him.

  Alan didn’t answer. He came at Simon with both fists swinging. Simon ducked and caught Alan’s right wrist in his hand. Stepping into the punch, Simon flipped Alan around with his arm behind his back.

  “Let me go!” Alan struggled to get free.

  Simon caught a whiff of alcohol. “Calm down and I will.”

  Alan began to weep, a huh-huh-huh sound that sounded like it was ripping his throat apart. He dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. Simon curled his fingers into his palm. He wanted to comfort Alan, but the two had never been the best of friends.

  Wynne glanced at Simon with confusion on her face. Who is he? she mouthed.

  Amanda’s brother, he mouthed back. She nodded. The comprehension flooding her face was followed with sympathy.

  She knelt beside Alan and put her arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry about your sister,” she said. “We’re trying to find the boat to see if we can discover what happened.”

  Alan raised his head. “I know what happened,” he said, his voice choked. He raised his hand and pointed at Simon. “He murdered Amanda and Jerry.”

  Wynne’s hand dropped. She stood and backed away from Alan. “Your grief is clouding your judgment.”

  He looked at Wynne. “Who are you anyway? His new girlfriend? His money isn’t worth it.” He spat the words and stood, ramming his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  Simon clenched his fists. “That’s enough, Alan,” he said. “I know you’re upset, but you don’t need to take it out on Wynne. This is Wynne Baxter.”

  Alan’s scowl faded. “Baxter? You’re related to the Baxters of Windigo Manor?”

  “She’s Becca’s sister,” Brian put in.

  Alan sneered at Simon. “Going for respectability? Even hooking up with a Baxter won’t wash away what you are.”

  Simon rubbed his head. “Look, go home, Alan. You’re not making sense. I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry about that. But bandying words with me isn’t going to change things. I’m going to do all I can to find out what happened to Superior Lady.”

  “Yeah, right.” Alan stomped toward the door then turned. “Any spin you put on it will cover up what really happened.” He looked at Wynne. “Ask him what he and Amanda fought about the day before she disappeared.”

  Simon could feel Wynne’s eyes on him, could sense the question in her eyes. “Go home, Alan,” he repeated wearily. He wasn’t up to discussing this anymore today. He tried to roll with the punches, but they kept coming, and he felt battered.

  Alan gave him a final glare and stomped from the boathouse. Moments later the roar of his vehicle came through the open door.

  Brian looked at him. “What was the argument about? You’ve never said.”

  “And I’m not going to now,” Simon said. He took Wynne’s elbow. “Let’s go.”

  The verandah overlooked Superior’s blue water. A cedar waxwing warbled from a branch over Wynne’s head. She dug out her bird journal and jotted it down. She tossed some toast crumbs to the flagstone floor, and the songbird flew down to peck at the morsels.

  “Still bird-watching?” Becca joined her at the table.

  “So far, I’ve added four new birds—a yellow-rumped warbler, a rough-legged hawk, a cedar waxwing and a Harris’ sparrow.”

  “You’re hopeless.” Becca handed Wynne the baby.

  Wynne nestled little Isabelle against her shoulder, and the baby put her thumb in her mouth and closed her eyes. Gazing at the rosebud mouth, Wynne felt a surge of motherly instinct. She laid her lips on Isabelle’s soft head and breathed in the aroma of baby. The more she was around her niece, the more she envied her sister.

  Becca flipped idly through Wynne’s bird diary. “What time are you supposed to meet Simon?”

  “About ten. He had some things to do this morning.” She chewed on
a ragged thumbnail. Maybe she should back away from working with Simon.

  Becca’s head came up. “Is that reserve I hear in your voice? Did things not go well yesterday? We didn’t get a chance to talk last night.”

  “Things went fine other than Simon is under suspicion for murdering his cousin and his fiancée.”

  Becca winced. “Serious suspicion? I don’t believe it. Simon is a great guy.”

  “Even great guys get caught up in passion.” Wynne hadn’t wanted to entertain any suspicions about Simon, but it was hard to stay objective with the mounting accusations. “I don’t want it to be true, but it’s hard when he acts guilty.”

  “How does he act guilty?”

  Wynne told her sister how Simon refused to talk about the argument he’d had with Amanda.

  “But that could just be because it was painful,” Becca offered.

  “Yeah, but you have to admit it looks suspicious.”

  Before Becca could answer, a deep voice carried through the open French doors. “Where’re those baby sisters?”

  “We’re out here, Jake,” Becca called.

  Wynne’s tension melted away as her brother and his wife joined them on the verandah. She’d hardly seen them so far this trip. Skye’s round stomach suited her. Her black hair was tied back in a ribbon, and her smile was full of contentment.

  “Skye, you look ready to pop,” Wynne said. She pushed a spare chair out with her foot. “Sit down.”

  “I feel great.” Skye ran her hand over Isabelle’s fuzzy head. “Does she sleep all the time?”

  “She’s starting to stay awake more.” Becca’s smile was indulgent.

  “I can’t wait,” Skye said, running her hand over her protruding belly.

  “How about you, big brother? You ready to be a dad?” Wynne teased.

  “About as ready as a chicken is to take wing,” Jake said. “I’m scared spitless.” He touched the baby with a finger. “I was fine until this little morsel was born and I saw how tiny a newborn really is. I’m afraid I might break her.”