by Susie Gayle
Two hundred and sixteen. That’s how many stairs there are to the top of the Goose Point lighthouse, in case you were wondering: two hundred and sixteen. I’m half-dead by the one hundredth stair, and cursing myself for not continuing my jogging regimen.
Graham, despite being more than twenty years my senior, seems to have no problem with the climb; he’s not even out of breath as we reach the halfway point.
“So you’re telling me that determining the source of the current will point you in the direction of who killed that pet store guy?” Graham asks after I’ve explained everything to him, punctuated by panting. (Mine, not Rowdy’s. The pup has no problem with the stairs either, it would seem.)
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
He looks over his shoulder at me and smiles. “That’s pretty smart, kid.”
“I’m thirty-seven.”
“And I’ve been lighthouse keeper since you were born.”
“Fair point.”
Finally, mercifully, we reach the top. The view is spectacular, and I wonder how it is I’ve gone my whole life without ever being curious about the lighthouse. The rounded glass windows afford a complete circular view of the surrounding area; not just the ocean, but the entire town of Seaview Rock, and then some.
“Wow,” I tell him. “This is really something, Graham.”
“Sure is. I never tire of this view. Now, point out where you found those knives.”
I point to the spot. “There. See where the rocks near the shore form kind of a lopsided star shape? It was right around there, probably about… three hundred yards from the base of the lighthouse.”
Graham purses his lips and traces an invisible line with his finger. “Well, you’d have to figure that a knife isn’t all that heavy, so even throwing it hard, it wouldn’t go very far—wind resistance and all that. Let’s be generous and say it went twenty yards out. Then that means it would have come from around… there.” He guides me by the shoulder to the opposite side of the glass and points.
I gulp. “Are you sure?”
“Are you really going to question whether or not I’m sure?”
“I suppose not…”
“Son, you look a little sick.”
“A little bit, Graham.”
“Does that help you?”
“Yes. Yes, it does. Thank you.”
I start down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Lucky for me, the descent is much easier than the climb was, and it only takes a few minutes to get back down to ground level. I keep Rowdy close on the leash to keep him from going after crabs and biting the waves as we hurry back toward the Runside and my car.
My first instinct is to call Patty back and tell her what I’d discovered, but she did threaten me last time we talked. I decide I’m better off confirming first and then calling the police. Of course, the confirming part is the hard part.
We get back to the SUV and roar off as fast as possible toward Seafoam Condominiums.
CHAPTER 15
* * *
I don’t even have to knock this time; by the time I get to unit 212, Sharon is already waiting at the open door. The guard, of course, let her know that I was coming, and when she asked for a reason, I told him to tell her that I changed my mind. That was enough for her to let me in.
“I don’t allow dogs,” she says curtly when she sees Rowdy, his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.
“Oh, he’s harmless,” I tell her. “Total sweetheart.”
Her eye twitches, but she lets us both in and closes the door. The bundle of knives is tucked under my arm, and I hope that it looks like a balled-up jacket.
“So, tell me,” she says. “What did you change your mind about?”
“About that cup of coffee.” I put on a big fake smile. “I think I’ll take it now.”
She looks at me quizzically, but sets about starting the coffee machine. “Are you alright, Will?”
“I called your office,” I tell her. “They said you were still at home.”
“Yes, well, in the wake of Mr. Dobson’s untimely death, I found my appointments with him suddenly cancelled,” she says.
“Makes sense.” I peer out through the huge window looking out over the ocean. “That view looks terrific. Mind if I take a peek for myself?”
“Feel free,” she says.
“Thanks.” I slide open the glass door and step out onto the balcony. The breeze coming in off the sea, combined with the warmth of the sunshine above, is the sort of combination a guy could get used to. I can see why people would like it here. Not my cup of tea, but I get it.
I grip the railing and lean over the side, looking almost straight down. There, on a rocky outcropping below, I see a cube of light-colored wood split neatly in two, glistening wet from the spray of the waves against the rocks.
“Do you take cream and sugar?” Sharon calls to me.
“Both, thank you.” I head back inside and close the sliding door.
She hands me a cup and I take a long sip. It’s a dark roast, some sort of rich Colombian-style coffee. I’m betting the beans probably cost half of what I make in a week. Still, there’s a funny aftertaste to it.
“Alright, Will,” she says finally. “You want to tell me what this visit is really about?”
“Something you said earlier. You said that maybe with Dobson gone, the Pet Emporium might change their mind about opening a location here. What do you think the odds of that really are?”
She shrugs. “I couldn’t say. I know it would be terribly bad publicity for them to continue here.”
“Wouldn’t that be bad for you?” I ask. “Since you made the deal.”
“They’ve already signed the lease,” she answers.
“So you already got your commission.”
She nods.
“Still, it’s a real shame about Dobson,” I say. “I met him before this, you know. He tried to buy out my store a few years ago. A real slimeball, if you ask me. What did you think of him?”
She shrugs. “He was a businessman. And like the rest of them, he was interested only in what would advance his own interests.”
“That’s true.” I pace around a little, pretending to admire the brushed nickel light fixtures, the art on the walls. A framed photo on a white shelf catches my eye: Sharon, much younger, smiling with a handsome young man beside her, his arm around her shoulders.
“That’s a nice photo,” I say. “Brother?”
Sharon bristles slightly. “No. Ex-husband, if you must know.”
“Hm.” It seems a little odd to me that someone would keep a picture of their ex—there’s no way I’d put any photo of me and Karen up for display—but I let it lie.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sharon,” I tell her. “I didn’t know.”
“Not many do,” she says. “It was a long time ago, before I came to Seaview Rock.”
“Seaview Rock,” I repeat slowly. I take a deep breath, mustering my courage. “You never intended Pet Emporium to set up shop here, did you?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You gave them the lease, but you never got approval from the town council. I’m guessing you did everything under the table. Is that right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“And you kept going on about money, and commerce, and economy. Here’s the thing, Sharon: I don’t think that’s actually your motive at all. I think you killed Derik Dobson for another reason.”
Sharon goes two shades paler. “How could you even suggest such a thing?”
“I think you went out, and you bought a knife set. Only buying one knife would be suspicious, right? You probably paid in cash, and you likely bought a couple of other things at the same time. Judging by the taste, I’m guessing this coffee maker is new, too. You forgot to peel the plastic off the inside lid.”
She stammers, “What makes you think that I—”
“Then you chucked all the
knives but one into the ocean. Problem is, you did it at low tide, so instead of carrying the knives out to sea, they washed up on the shore.” I set my jacket on the countertop and unwrap the bundle to reveal the nine knives Rowdy and I found on the beach. “In fact, if you look out your balcony, you’ll see the bamboo knife block that you threw out too, except that didn’t make it as far. It’s still down there.”
“You can’t prove anything,” she says in a hoarse whisper.
“I don’t have to prove anything. I just have to tell Chief Mayhew what I’ve found. They’ll find the knife block, and these knives, and they’ll check security footage from all the local stores until they find you buying the set. And the missing knife will match the murder weapon, won’t it?” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Sharon. You made too many mistakes.”
She stares at me for a long time, her mouth slightly agape. Then she says quietly, “Well, you made one too.” She grabs the largest knife from the bundle and points it at me. Okay, didn’t expect that one. I back up quickly until I bump against the glass door of the balcony. “You came alone.”
CHAPTER 16
* * *
“The police know where I am,” I tell her, trying to sound confident.
“I don’t think they do. See, Will, I have a lot of connections. And they told me that right now, your girlfriend is the lead suspect in the murder… and they’re still considering an accomplice.” She points the blade at me. “You.”
“Okay, you got me. The cops don’t know I’m here. But someone does… Graham, the lighthouse keeper. What are you going to do, Sharon? Kill me, and then kill him too?”
She appears taken aback, as if I insulted her. “Will, I’m not going to kill you.”
“Are you sure? Because you’re holding a knife.”
“No, of course not. You’re going to jump.”
I glance over my shoulder. Suddenly the view doesn’t look so spectacular. It looks terrifying.
“Sharon, I’m ninety percent sure I’m not going to do that.”
“We’ll see.” She comes around the counter, still brandishing the knife. “Open the door.”
“Wait. Just wait a second. If I’m going to die, I think I deserve to know why. Why Dobson? What did he do to you?”
She scoffs. “He was sleazy. You should know that better than anyone; he almost put you under!”
“That doesn’t mean he deserved to be killed.” I examine her face, the anger in the creases around her eyes. “You knew him before all this, didn’t you?”
For just the briefest of seconds, her eyes flit to the framed photo of her and her ex-husband.
“Did it have something to do with him?” I ask gently.
“Why would you care?”
I shrug. “I’ve been told I’m overly empathetic. It’s both my blessing and my curse.” I have to keep the conversation going. Every minute that she’s talking is a minute that I’m not careening off a cliff. “Tell me, Sharon. Please.”
She sets her jaw and breathes hard through her nose. “You really want to know? Fine. About thirty years ago, I was the manager of one of Pet Emporium’s stores. Their third, to be exact. Derik Dobson was just starting his empire, and I was a hard worker. By twenty-six, I was the store manager.
“I was a newlywed. His name was Glenn, and he was handsome, and witty, and charming…” She shakes her head. “It was a fairytale. We were so happy. There was only one problem: I was infertile. I found out that I couldn’t have children. But there was a treatment. It was very expensive, and couldn’t guarantee results, but I would have tried anything to make him happy. I had health benefits, and I was making good money, but still we could just barely afford it.” Tears well in her eyes.
“Then what happened?”
“Then… one day, Derik Dobson decided that our store was underperforming. His way of telling us was to close it down one night and leave a notice posted on the door for employees to find the next morning. ‘Sorry for the inconvenience,’ it said. Literally overnight I was unemployed. I lost my healthcare benefits.” A tear runs down her cheek.
“You couldn’t pay for your treatment,” I add quietly.
“No. I was cut off. Glenn, he couldn’t afford it on his own, and he ended up leaving me for another woman—one that could bear his kids. I was left in massive debt and penniless. My entire life was ruined; my husband gone, my livelihood gone, and any prospect of children, gone.” She wipes her eyes with her free hand and scowls. “And Derik Dobson went on to be a multi-millionaire.”
“But Dobson was just the CEO. If you were going to blame anyone, blame the corporation. It wasn’t the fault of only one man,” I plead.
“Oh, that’s the best part, Will. The day before our store closed down, Dobson was there, in person. He smiled his big fake smile and he told us how great we were all doing. How we’d always have a place in his ‘Pet Emporium family.’ He was there, and he knew very well what was about to happen.” She scoffs. “So with no money and no other options, I packed my car and I came to Seaview Rock. I had a friend here, and she took me in for a short while and helped me get back on my feet…”
“Karen’s mom,” I murmur.
“Yes. I got my real estate license, got out of debt, and the rest is history. I never tried treatment again. There would never be another Glenn. And I kept his photo, our photo, right there on my shelf as a constant reminder of what I lost… of what people like Derik Dobson are really like under that veneer of professionalism and success. The way they’ll step on lives for their own gain” she sighs. “Not a day has gone by in the last thirty years that I haven’t thought about what I would do to him if I saw him again.”
“And when Karen introduced you as the agent to help him, you jumped at the chance.”
“Of course I did. When we met in person, I was terrified that he would remember me. He didn’t. Not a glimmer of recognition for the woman who ran his store, and whose life he ruined.”
“So you took the deal, but you never planned for the store to actually open.”
“I love this town. I wouldn’t have let it happen.” She takes a step closer to me, the knife still outstretched in her arm.
Rowdy growls at her, a low, dangerous rumbling sound. “Easy, boy,” I say softly.
“Open the door,” she commands.
“You don’t have to do this, Sharon.”
“Open it!”
I slide the door aside.
“Out onto the balcony.”
I back up a few steps, feeling the warm sun on the back of my neck. “Sharon, you’re going to have to do something here, because there’s no way I’m jumping off this thing.”
“Do it!” she shouts.
“Think about this, Sharon. If you kill me, you’re doing exactly what Dobson did to you. You’re ruining a life for your own gain.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to him!” She takes another step, so that the tip of the knife is just inches from my nose.
“And what about Sarah? If she takes the fall for this, you’re ending her life too. She’s innocent. Is that what you want?”
“Shut up!” she screams at me. “Shut up! Over the side, now!”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to do it, Sharon. You’re going to have to make a decision.” I stare into her eyes, my gaze boring into hers, hoping desperately that her resolve breaks first—because mine is about to shatter. “I’m a divorcee myself. When it happened, I thought my life was over. Ruined. But it turns out that there was a light at the end of that tunnel—”
“Shut up! Stop it!”
“And now, with Sarah, I see a possibility I didn’t see before. Do you really want this? For me, for us… for yourself?”
“I swear, Will, one more and I’ll—”
“This is going to be your legacy, Sharon. Even if no one ever finds out about it, you’ll know what you’ve done here.”
Sharon lets out a doleful wail. She rears back and flings t
he knife out over the balcony, into the sea, before collapsing in a heap on the balcony, her body racking with sobs.
Rowdy sniffs her and then licks her face, and she hugs the dog to her as she cries.
CHAPTER 17
* * *
The Runside is particularly packed tonight, every table and booth taken, but Holly—bless her craft-brewing heart—makes sure that she has a table reserved for pet shop owners that narrowly skirted death and their jailbird girlfriends. Sarah, now free from the behind the bars of tyranny, drinks a Whale of an Ale as a free woman with me and Sammy as we toast our good fortune.
After Sharon broke down, I had Rowdy stand guard while I called Patty Mayhew and then quickly hid the rest of the knives (just in case she had a change of heart). The police came, and Sharon admitted to everything that she had admitted to me, plus one more little tidbit: On the night of the murder, Rowdy’s sudden appearance spooked Sharon before she could properly dispose of the knife, so she quickly pushed it into the soft dirt near Dobson’s body, hoping that it would cover it enough that no one would find it when the sod was laid the next day.
The Pet Emporium decided not to open a store in Seaview Rock after all, and the town council let them break their lease without repercussion, with the caveat that they would never pursue a presence here again. They agreed wholeheartedly.
Sarah raises her glass in a toast and announces, “To Will…”
“Aw, thanks—”
“…Who provided the hand that held the leash of the real hero—Rowdy the dog!”
“Hey!” I protest. “I did some real detective work here—”
“You got lucky,” Sammy chides. “The dropped wallet, finding the knife… that was all coincidence.”
“I figured out the thing with the currents. That’s got to count for something.”
“It does.” Sarah smiles and gives me a kiss. “Seriously though, thank you. I’d still be in jail if it wasn’t for you.”
“Aw, shucks.” I shrug. “It was nothing.”