“That was very ingenious,” I said. “But the police are looking for you. Brenda. And they’re going to find you, one way or another. Even if you escape here now, they’ll find you.”
“Why are they looking for me?” she said.
Brenda was dressed in normal clothing, but the look in her eyes was wild. If someone had told me she was possessed, I might have believed them.
“Why do you think they’re looking for you?” I said, wondering if an open-ended question might help us cut right to a confession.
“I don’t know anymore,” she said, wrapping her arms tightly around her body.
“They found the bone,” I said.
Brenda dropped her head into her hands.
“I don’t know how I’ve gotten caught up in everything,” she said. “I was only trying to help protect Patience and Nancy. Now I’ve killed a man.”
“You killed Robert Solder?” I said.
“I didn’t strangle him,” she said, looking up at me. “I heard he was strangled. But I went to the dig yesterday, and now the anthropologist is dead.”
“Oh, Brenda,” I said. “What did you do?”
“I went to the well after Peter found me in The Shack,” she said. “By the way, I’m glad he found Tinker. I wouldn’t have let him out of the house if I’d thought there was any risk of him running away. I just needed some time to get a head start. I didn’t want Peter to see me heading to Old Holly’s. Oh, and I feel badly about the tire, too. I took the bus as far as the Miacomet Road and walked the rest of the way.”
“Why?”
“I felt compelled to go. I wanted to protect Nancy. And when I arrived, I saw the bone in Agnes’s car. She is a thief! I thought maybe Patience had sent me there to find the bone. I knew straightaway it was Patience’s femur, because it had been missing from The Shack, so I took it out of the car. I intended to return it here.”
“But instead of returning the bone, you headed into the forest,” I said. “Why?”
“I heard Solder mention a map on the walkie-talkie. None of you were looking,” she said. “And I realized if I headed into the brush from the side of the property, I might be able to catch a glimpse of what was going on from behind the well. Sure enough, I did. But then the tree fell over.”
“Did you push the tree over?” I said.
“No,” she said. “But as I reached a small clearing, I heard the tree fall behind me. After a minute or two, I saw Solder come up from the well. He looked confused. He was holding the bag, and I figured the map was in it. I stepped out from the clearing and asked him, very politely, for the map. Very quietly, he told me to stay calm. That everything would be OK. I whispered back to him that I would take good care of it, but he kept backing away from me. Before I knew it, I’d hit him on the head with the femur. So, you know, I couldn’t bring it back here. When he fell down, I took the map, but nothing else. I’m not a thief. I only wanted to protect Patience.”
“Where’s the map?” I said.
“I don’t have it with me,” she said. “It’s hidden, and I won’t give it to anyone.”
One look at Brenda and I could see I wasn’t going to get anywhere fast.
“What did you do after you took the map?” I said.
“I ran through the path to the water,” she said. “I knew there was an old canoe there. Some kids in the area hang out there to smoke. Their parents think they’re out getting exercise, but they’re just going for a smoke. I saw them once when I was at the Field Station. I told them off, but I knew they hid cigarettes in the old canoe.”
I remembered the cigarette butts. Her story lined up.
“Why haven’t you handed over the map?” I said. “This might have something to do with Solder’s death.”
“I think it might,” said Brenda, beginning to shake again. “I would have turned it over, but I’ve been afraid for my life. That night, I found a note under my door. The author said they’d seen me take the map, and that if I didn’t leave information about where the treasure was hidden, the person would turn me in for murder—or worse. I’ve been terrified.”
“You’ve been blackmailed?” I said.
Brenda nodded.
“By whom?” I said.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I left the information on the board outside The Hub, as directed. But it was dark, and I was afraid.”
“Brenda,” I said, an idea beginning to form. “What information about the map did you share?”
“I said the treasure was in the northeast part of the island,” she said, “but it’s not, really.”
Fontbutter.
“Brenda,” I said, “lay low. I’ve got to go.”
Chapter 22
Iran back to the Morton house and entered the kitchen through the back door. Inside, Cherry was opening the rosé.
“You should have bought more red,” she said. “It’s not good to mix.”
“I didn’t know I’d be having a party,” I said. “Leigh, where’s Fontbutter tonight?”
“How would I know?” she said.
“There’s no time for that,” I said. “Where is he?”
Cherry stopped pouring. The Candleers looked at Leigh, their goodwill fading fast.
Leigh dropped her head.
“Whatever you might think,” she said, “I loved Robbie. I was going to let him down easy. As for Hugh, I don’t know where he is.”
“Fontbutter’s name is Hugh?” said Flo.
“You and Fontbutter?” said Cherry. The ladies looked very disappointed in her choice of man.
“You were the one who told Fontbutter about our discovery of Patience and our plans to look for Nancy, weren’t you?” I said. “He didn’t find out from a Girl Scouts feed.”
Leigh nodded.
“But Hugh has nothing to do with Solder’s death,” said Leigh. “What motive would he have?”
“You and Solder had the find of the century,” I said. “I don’t think Fontbutter would have stopped at anything to get the exclusive scoop. Add a map that might be worth a fortune to the story, and you have motive.”
Leigh put her hand over her mouth.
“If you’re right,” she said, “he’s used me.”
“Fontbutter’s B and B is on Cliff Road, right?” I said. It was a guess, but many of the B & Bs are around there.
Leigh nodded.
“The Cliff Lodge Bed and Breakfast,” she said.
“See you in a few,” I said, glad I hadn’t finished that glass of wine.
I was in my car and down the road before anyone could stop me.
As I reached Cliff Road, I made out the shadow of a man in the mist. I slowed down and opened the window.
“Hop in,” I said to Fontbutter.
“I bin’ to Rose’n Crown,” he said, his step faltering. “Good pub.”
“The best,” I said. “Hop in.”
“No thang you.”
“I know about Brenda and the map,” I said. “It’s over.”
Fontbutter didn’t miss a beat. He took off at what was probably his full speed, but his feet took him in an S-shape as he forged ahead. I watched him dive into the darkness, into a small pathway between two houses. I pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road and parked. My car couldn’t fit through the hedges, but I could.
I didn’t have to go far. About ten paces into the hedged pathway, I tripped over something angled across the ground.
“Ow,” said Fontbutter, who was lying next to me on his stomach.
I didn’t have any real fear that Fontbutter would be able to escape me again, but to be sure, I crawled over to his splayed body and sat on his back.
“That feels nice,” he said.
“I know you killed Solder,” I said. “And I know you’re planning to frame Brenda Worthington.”
“The ghost lady?” he said. “You’re crazy. She couldn’t kill a fly. I still can’t believe she hit him on the head, though. She could have killed him right then’n there.”
“Whatever,” he said. “It’s jus’ business. Nothing personal.”
“A man is dead,” I said.
“I think I can’t breathe,” he said. “Would you mind getting off of my back?”
I decided we’d had enough death on Nantucket. I slid off of him. Fontbutter rolled over and leaned up against the hedge. Before speaking again, he hiccupped.
“Sexy move,” he said, pulling a leaf from his mustache, which reached up on one side and down on the other, giving him the look of that theatrical comedy-tragedy mask.
“Murderer,” I said, taking my phone from my pocket to call Andy.
In a surprise rush of dexterity, Fontbutter pulled the phone from my hands.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said. “I didn’t even steal the map. I don’t want anything underhanded to stain my work.”
“You didn’t steal it, but you had no qualms about torturing Brenda to get information about it,” I said.
“Face it,” he said. “It’s much cleaner that way. You could say I hit the jackpot. You can’t say I’m a killer.”
I sat very still as I realized I had nothing to defend myself. Fontbutter said nothing for a moment. Beside him was a whiskey bottle, half full. If I could grab it from him, I knew I could use it as protection if he got violent. Unfortunately, it was too far away for me to make an easy grab. Fontbutter would likely beat me to it.
I was trying to figure out if I could take him on, mano a mano, when he reached into his jacket pocket. I flinched, which made me want to kick myself. There was no need for him to know how scared I was.
I’m not sure what I expected Fontbutter to pull from his jacket, but I was surprised when I saw it was a shot glass. He raised it to me, as if making a toast, and picked up the whiskey bottle. I was relieved that he was more interested in drinking from it than using it to assault me.
“Want to know about Brenda?” he said.
I nodded.
He poured and handed me the glass.
“Then you’ll have to drink up,” he said. “I don’t like drinking alone. For every shot you do, I’ll tell you sumfin’ interesting.”
He poured, hiccupped, and handed me the glass.
I downed it. I don’t have the highest tolerance, but there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to learn more.
“First,” he said, after I handed back the empty glass to him. “All I did was see the Worthington lady smack Solder and take the map,” he raised a finger for emphasis, “but as I said,” he raised it higher, “I didn’t kill him. Want another?”
I nodded. He poured and waited to continue until I handed back the glass and he took another shot for himself.
“I may be slick and good at my job, but murder’s not my thing,” he said. “I jus’ wanna good show. The last two have been terrible. But don’ tell anyone I said so. Anyway, if I killed Solder, Leigh would never speak to me again. I like her. A lot.”
His speech ended with him putting his finger against his lips.
I sat back against the adjacent hedge, feeling warmer from my shots, and thought about Fontbutter’s admission.
“You saw Brenda leave with the map?” I said.
He poured, and I drank.
When I finished, he nodded.
“She was in her Quaker getup,” he said.
I realized who the ghost was that everyone had seen.
“I tried to go after her right away, to get the map, but she was fast, and I was afraid I’d get lost,” he said. “As I headed back to the well, I heard a thud. It was a strange noise.”
“I think I’ll take another shot,” I said, horrified to relive the gruesome story.
Fontbutter took one for himself, then passed one to me. I’d had four shots now, and I felt quite light-headed.
“When I returned to the well,” he said. “Solder was on the ground with the rope around his neck. I was suddenly glad I hadn’t taken the map. It wouldn’t have been a good idea to be found with the map on me. That’s for sure.”
I wasn’t feeling all that friendly toward the man, but I gave him a thumbs-up.
We shared another drink.
“Did you see the murderer?” I said.
Fontbutter rubbed his face.
“I couldn’t see for sure because of the fog,” he said. “But I think it was Bellows.”
“Why didn’t you tell the police?” I said.
“In due time,” he said. “It’s important to build the story. I was going to find the treasure first, then solve the murder. I thought I might need to interview Bellows and get some help on Nancy’s story. Can’t have him in jail yet.”
“You are despicable,” I said.
“I know,” he said.
“Have you found the treasure?” I said.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve looked damn near everywhere, too. Somebody probably dug it up a hundred years ago.”
Or Brenda is cleverer than you know and sent you to the wrong place, I thought, remembering her pride in sharing that fact with me. I was drunk, but I didn’t say that part out loud.
My ears had started to ring a bit, so I wasn’t sure of myself at first, but there was a sound at the end of the pathway. I realized that footsteps were heading our way. Fontbutter and I both turned to see who was out there.
In silhouette, I saw the outline of a woman with a large, overflowing tote bag. She was walking quickly, her head down.
“Shelly, baby,” cried Fontbutter.
The woman stopped and shrieked.
“In here,” he said.
“Fonty?” said a voice that was absolutely Shelly’s. “What happened to you?”
She stayed in the entry of the path. I realized she could not see me behind Fontbutter.
“You left for the little boys’ room and never came back,” she said. “I’ve been waiting about twenty minutes.”
“I knew there was something I forgotten,” said Fontbutter. “’n you wanted to know about someth’n.”
“The map,” she said. “Where was the X on the map? You said northeast on your Instagram post, but where, exactly?”
“Mizz Shelly,” said Fontbutter, “I have the feeling that you invited me out tonight to find out about this map. And not for my moustache. I feel used.”
As the two of them worked out her intentions, I thought about Shelly in a new light. She had been the person who had been so interested in using the Morton house. She was the one who had asked me to call John Pierre.
Unfortunately, however, it was now my turn to hiccup.
“Who’s with you?” said Shelly, nervously.
“Shelly wants a part in the show,” said Fontbutter. “She thinks I’m not on to her, but I am. I’s happ’nd before. She was coming on to me, but I love Leigh. So... but I snuck out from the bathroom. I’m ’n honorable lover.”
“Who’s with you?” Shelly said again, now quite loudly, as if her volume could drown out Fontbutter.
“Hi, Shelly,” I said.
“Stella?” she said. “Is that you? I’m getting out of here. You two are crazy. You’d better watch out, Stella. Don’t assume Peter will put up with you. There’s a lot of other women on this island who think he’s a catch.”
“What?” I said, but Shelly was gone.
Fontbutter started to laugh. He handed me another drink.
“No, thanks,” I said. “I think we’ve had enough. Hand me my phone.”
“Sure,” he said. “But your policeman can’t arrest me. No evidence of anything. Brenda can’t even identify me. And you’re drunk. Can’t believe a word you say.”
Fontbutter rolled onto his hands and knees, and after a few false moves, he gained his balance.
“Gotta go,” he said. “You going to be OK?”
“Yup.”
“Listen, I will tell you one more thing.”
“What?” I said to his raised finger.
“You’re fired,�
� he said, turning the finger on me. “You are the worst employee I’ve ev’r had.”
“I quit,” I said.
“I still say,” he said as he walked away from me and down the path, “you should be looking into Bellows. If it wasn’t me, or you, or the old broads, or Brenda, it’s got to be Bellows. Leigh would never have hurt Solder. I was just a confusing fling to her. But she helped me land the best picture I’ll ever make.”
“Again,” I said. “You are despicable.”
Chapter 23
I know when I need help. This was one of those times.
I dialed Peter. No answer. I couldn’t imagine anything more important than Robert Solder’s murder for a reporter. The hermit crabs certainly didn’t hold a candle to this.
I toyed with dialing Andy, but Fontbutter had had a point. Finding me loopy and loitering by a hedge didn’t bode well for my credibility. Right now, I didn’t want anything stopping me. I was ready to solve the case of the missing map and Patience Cooper’s murder. Hopefully Solder’s too.
I opened and scrolled through my contacts, looking for someone to call. I wished Emily was feeling better, but then I hit a name I knew I could trust. I pressed it and waited.
“Hello, lady,” Clemmie said after two rings.
“Did you mean it when you said you’d help me?” I said.
“Are you drunk?”
“I’m sobering up fast, but I can’t drive,” I said. “And I need to follow up on some leads sooner than later.”
“I’ll be right there,” she said.
I liked that twenty minutes later, Clemmie did not ask why I was on Cliff Road, my car parked neatly, but the rest of me still a bit trashed. She just opened the door and tucked me in. Even better, she handed me a coffee.
“Black, no sugar,” she said. “Where to?”
“Shelly Montague’s house,” I said. “It’s a few streets down, off Cliff. Make a right.”
“I know her,” said Clemmie, pulling out of her spot. “She’s a half-and-half lady.”
I wondered what that meant in terms of her potential to kill.
“Why Shelly?” said Clemmie.
“I’m not sure yet,” I said, feeling the coffee doing its trick. “Here’s what I know. Brenda Worthington stole the bone from Agnes’s car and hit Solder on the head with it because she wanted the map. She thought if he had it, the spirits wouldn’t rest. She didn’t want anyone going down the well or bothering these old bodies. She really believes in this stuff.”
15 Minutes of Flame Page 20