Death in a Beach Chair

by Valerie Wolzien

  “Not exactly a topic you expect to come up on vacation, is it?” Susan heard the coldness in her own voice. She was beginning to suspect that Ro was lying.

  “Not unless you’re a big reader of mystery novels. In fact, it was the books we were reading that drew Allison and me together. She was just finishing up a book by Carolyn Hart, and I was just starting the latest by Kate Grilley. We agreed to switch when we were done. The gift shop’s collection of mysteries leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “So you started talking about real murders after discussing favorite authors?” Susan asked, thinking it an unlikely segue.

  “Yes. You see, some of the authors I like best write series mysteries and their characters are always stumbling on dead bodies-sometimes two or three times a year! I mentioned the fact that you had to suspend your disbelief to read them, and that’s when she mentioned knowing a real person who had had this very experience!”

  “Oh. Did she mention me by name?”

  “Well, not when we were first talking, but then you and your party checked in and she said something about you being the woman she had described earlier in the week.”

  Susan realized this might be more than a little important. “Did she seem surprised to see me? Surprised that I was here?”

  “Oh, dear, I know what you’re getting at. If your presence wasn’t a surprise, it would seem that she and Mr. Gordon had communicated sometime before their arrival, wouldn’t it?”

  “I don’t know about that. There might be other explanations.”

  Ro beamed. “That’s why you’re such an excellent detective. I must admit I can’t think of a single other explanation for why Allison wouldn’t have been surprised to see you.”

  “Perhaps Allison was in the office and just happened to see our name on some sort of list of future bookings,” Susan improvised.

  “Yes! That would explain it, wouldn’t it? We should remember that in case anyone asks, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose, but frankly, I can’t imagine why anyone would ask us anything.”

  “Not only is the man arrested your friend, but you knew the deceased-and this is a very small resort. Word gets around.” Ro drained her glass so quickly that Susan would have worried about her sobriety if she didn’t have other things on her mind.

  “You’re not the only person who knows about Allison’s connections to us, are you?”

  Ro smiled. “I’m not here alone, you know. And I may have mentioned the things Allison told me to my husband or one or two of my friends. And, of course, Allison may have spoken about these things to other guests or staff.”

  There was nothing Susan could do about that now. “You said you saw Jerry with Allison during the day yesterday. What were they doing?”

  “I can’t tell you that. I saw them come back to the resort together. A taxi pulled up outside the restaurant and they got out. Most of the taxis drive right into Compass Bay’s courtyard. Theirs didn’t. I suspect they were trying to hide.”

  Susan didn’t like anything she was hearing. “Isn’t it possible that the driver didn’t realize that he could drive into the courtyard?”

  “Oh, my dear, you don’t know this island. A job driving a taxi is coveted. Absolutely coveted. The men here have very few employment opportunities that could be said to be macho. Taxi driver is one of them.”

  “And the others?” Susan asked, momentarily distracted.

  “Oh, crewing on some of the ships that take tourists out for deep-sea fishing, bartending… I can’t think of any more at the moment. But I can assure you that tearing around the island roads in those old Cadillacs that are used for taxis are jobs passed down from father to son. All the drivers know where to pick up their clients.”

  “What time did you see them?” Susan asked.

  “Around four. Right before my friends and I met for predinner drinks and a game, I guess.”

  “You said you had lunch with her yesterday.”

  “Yes, that’s right, I did.”

  “And did she tell you that she was going to spend the afternoon with Jerry?”

  “No, no.” Ro appeared to think for a moment. “I don’t believe either of us discussed plans for the day. That’s one of the nicest parts of being on vacation. You can just do things without planning. Free as a bird! At least that’s what I think.”

  Susan didn’t bother to agree or disagree. “And did you happen to notice when they left?”

  “No.”

  “What about later in the evening?”

  “I only wish I had! I saw Mr. Gordon eating dinner with your party, but I didn’t see them together again until last night on the beach.”

  “And you said they were walking together on the pier at that time.”

  “Yes. I did. I thought it was a little odd.”

  “Why?”

  “It seemed to me that Mr. Gordon was spending rather a lot of his vacation with a woman other than his wife. You know, I’m not the only person who noticed. That young couple-I can never remember their names-the ones on their honeymoon-were talking about it when I passed them by at dinner last night. The bride seemed to be concerned that her groom might treat her like that sometime in the future.”

  Susan had noticed this particular couple cavorting in the pool, bronzed and bikini clad, as well as lying in the late afternoon sun, hands clasped. The bride wore a skimpy white lace bikini that had attracted Jed’s attention, as well. “I didn’t see them at dinner last night,” she said.

  “Everyone who has been here for a while noticed. They arrived five days ago and have ordered from room service for most meals since check-in. My husband insists that they don’t want to get dressed for any reason other than to lie in the sun, not that they wear very much for that particular activity.”

  Susan agreed. “But they aren’t the only ones wearing scanty swimwear. In fact, the first time I saw Allison she was wearing an amazingly tiny bikini.” That might have been exactly why she hadn’t recognized Allison, Susan realized. During summer visits, Allison had spent time at the Hancock Field Club and, as far as Susan remembered, had been seen only in a navy blue maillot-with a skirt.

  “Yes, Allison was very proud of her figure, wasn’t she?”

  “It certainly looked that way,” Susan said. She was interested in other things right now. “Was it odd that Allison spent so much time with Jerry? I mean, she was here alone. Did she… well, sort of team up with anyone else while she was here?”

  “Let me think.” For the first time since Ro had introduced herself, Susan got the impression that her hostess was worried about how she answered the question.

  “You said that you and she spent a lot of time together talking,” Susan prompted.

  “I don’t believe I said a lot of time. We just chatted a few times. I like to get to know the other guests here. I told you that.”

  “Yes, of course. It’s natural to talk to the person in the chair next to yours while you’re lying about the pool or whatever,” Susan assured her. Ro was getting nervous. Susan didn’t want their conversation to end just as she was about to learn something. “And I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you’re trying to help Jerry.”

  “Well, he seems like a very nice man. And Allison seemed to think highly of him.”

  There was a moment of silence as Ro seemed to realize that she had said more than she meant to-and Susan tried to figure out how to keep the revelations flowing. “Allison mentioned him and didn’t tell you that she had been his sister-in-law?” She finally settled on asking the question that most interested her.

  “Allison never mentioned having a sister who was divorced.”

  “Did she mention having had a sister who died?”

  Ro was obviously shocked. “Her sister was dead? I never thought-no, no, she never mentioned that. My memory may not be what it once was, but I would have remembered that! So Mr. Gordon is a widower.”

  “Was. He’s been married to Kathleen for almost ten years.”


  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” Susan repeated the word.

  “I thought I heard someone.”

  “Who-”

  A short, balding man, incredibly knobby knees shown off by his bright green plaid shorts worn beneath a purple polo shirt, had joined them.

  “Ro, dear, we’ve all been wondering where you were. Did you forget our game?”

  Ro, as if on cue, looked at her watch and gasped. “I had no idea it was this late!” she cried, standing up. “Everyone will think I’ve been terribly rude.” She turned to Susan. “You will understand if I dash off. My friends are waiting for me. The game cannot start without me.”

  Susan stood up, too. “Of course I understand. My husband is probably wondering where I’ve vanished to, as well. I…” She didn’t know what else to say. “Thank you for-for showing me all this and talking to me and-and the drink,” she added quickly, moving into the Parkers’ bedroom and heading toward the stairs. “I guess we’ll see each other around.” Susan, feeling awkward, waved at the couple and started down the stairs.

  She hurried across the first floor and back out onto the beach. She had gotten the distinct impression that Burt Parker was unhappy to discover his wife talking to her. Her impression was confirmed when these words floated down from the balcony:

  “Meddling in the lives of others has gotten you in trouble before, Ro. I would have thought you had more sense than to get involved in a murder.”

  TWELVE

  Susan had hoped to speak with Kathleen, to assure her friend that she wasn’t alone, to start the investigation that would free Jerry from whatever hellhole the local police had locked him in. But she returned to her cottage to discover a note from Jed explaining-complaining-that he had not been able to find her, and as Kathleen had been given permission to see Jerry and hadn’t wanted to go alone, he had been forced to leave without talking with his wife. Susan, reading his message, realized he had been upset when he wrote it. Well, there was nothing she could do about that now, she decided, folding and putting it in the pocket of her shorts. She turned to leave the cottage and wondered what, if anything, she could-or should-do now.

  She heard a knock on the door behind her and turned, hoping whoever was there would provide a solution to her problem. The worried expression on her face morphed into a smile when she recognized James.

  “Mrs. Henshaw, your party signed up for kayaks today. I didn’t want to change your reservations or offer my boats to anyone else until I was sure you wouldn’t be wanting them. I-” He stopped and looked embarrassed. “I can’t say I know what to do in this situation.”

  “Never had anyone die here before?” Susan asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Oh, no, ma’am. We’ve had people die here. But not killed… except by love. Once.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, a few months ago this old guy came here. He must have been over fifty and he’d just gotten married to this young girl. Well, they scuba dived, kayaked, swam, ate and drank, and… and did what couples do on their honeymoon. And he was dead in less than twenty-four hours after check-in. Heart failure. He was too old to keep up with her. She should have married a young buck. At least, that’s what Lila said at the time. And he was not the only one,” James hurried on, possibly afraid he had offended her.

  “Who else died?” Susan asked.

  “Just a few months ago a woman stepped on something on the beach. No one ever really knew what, although her husband said it was some sort of jellyfish. Anyway, she had some sort of horrible allergic reaction, went into some sort of shock.”

  “Anaphylactic shock,” Susan suggested.

  “Maybe. All I know is she was dead before anyone could call a doctor. Scared the hell out of me. It was in all the papers. Perhaps you saw it up north? I know Lila was worried about bad publicity hurting us.”

  “I didn’t see anything. Anyway, an allergic reaction is individual. Most people aren’t allergic to the same things. But is there anything else deadly around here? On the beach?”

  “Well, many people step on black urchins. Happens more than you’d think. Their feet swell up something awful and they have a whole lot of pain for a day or two.”

  “And then they die?” Susan asked.

  “Nah, they get better. It’s no biggie. We can warn people, but we can’t get them to listen. We had a guy here from Maine last winter. He said he knew all about urchins-used to go out in the cove in front of his house, pick them up, smash them, and serve them over homemade pasta. Sounded disgusting to me, not that anyone asked. Anyway, we took out the kayaks, paddled over to a beach just south of here, and got out for a walk. Don’t say I didn’t warn him.”

  “He stepped on one?” Susan guessed.

  “Nope, two. But one at a time. Stepped on one with one foot and jumped up and stepped right onto another with the other foot. Who woulda thought it could happen like that? Both feet swelled up like pillows by the time we got back here. Last I saw of him, he was getting into a taxi, saying he’d be real glad to get back to the frozen north.”

  “But no one else has been murdered here?” Susan asked.

  “Not that I know of, but, I tell you, I only been here for three years. Things could have happened before I got here.” James shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Susan realized he was anxious to be on his way.

  “You know, I’d enjoy going out in one of the kayaks again. Everyone else seems to be gone for a while.”

  “Yeah, your husband and your friend went in to town to see that man who was arrested-at least, that’s what I heard,” James added quickly. “So you could paddle around for a bit on your own. Don’t go out too far. You be perfectly safe.”

  “I don’t think I want to go out in the ocean alone,” Susan answered slowly. “But if you have the time, maybe we could go out together-just for a bit?”

  James frowned and then glanced back over his shoulder. “I guess I could-just for a bit-but I gotta make sure I’m not needed here and-and all.”

  “That would be fantastic. I’ll grab some sunscreen and be right with you. I don’t want to be gone long either, but it would be great to get away-just for a bit.” Susan repeated the phrase they seemed to have agreed on. She wasn’t actually interested in getting away alone. But Ro had said James was on the beach last night. He might have seen something that related to Allison’s murder. Susan grabbed a tube of sunscreen and dabbed a bit on her nose as she left the cottage.

  James was standing just outside the open doorway of the gift shop, apparently talking to someone inside. Susan called out his name, and he turned and waved, a big smile on his face. “You go on down, ma’am. I come down presently.”

  Susan waved, turned, and discovered herself face-to-face with a woman whose resemblance to a tubby Buddha was emphasized by the white flowing beach dress she wore.

  “My dear, my husband and I have been looking for you. What a dreadful thing to happen. I was just telling Martin, this will just ruin your vacation.”

  “It certainly isn’t improving it,” Susan admitted.

  “This seems to be the morning for husbands and wives to get separated. Your husband was looking all over the place for you, too. Just a few minutes ago. And your friend, too. How sad it is that her husband was arrested. She looked distraught the last time I saw her, and I can’t say I blame her one bit. It’s bad enough when your husband falls for someone else on vacation, but to kill someone…”

  “Jerry did not fall for Allison. They’ve…” She paused and decided not to say anything more than necessary. “They’ve known each other for years and years. And he certainly didn’t kill her. They-they’ve always gotten along well.” She paused for a minute, knowing that wasn’t true. Hadn’t June once told her that it was so much easier to celebrate the holidays at the Henshaws’ because everyone was much more polite when there were no family members present? At the time, Susan had assumed she was talking about the children. Certainly she was more confident that Chad and
Chrissy would mind their manners at someone else’s home. But was it possible that June had meant the adults? Had Allison and Jerry gotten along? She noticed that the other woman was staring at her curiously.

  “I’m sure this is all going to turn out to be a huge mistake and everything will be fine,” Susan insisted. “In fact, I’m so sure everything is going to be fine that I am going to go kayaking until everyone returns.” She hoped the smile on her face didn’t look as forced as it felt.

  “Why, you brave thing! Why don’t my husband and I go along with you? We can keep you from becoming depressed. Let me just go find Martin. That man can vanish more quickly than anyone I know. My name’s Joann. I’ll just see if I can find my husband… but you call on me if you need anything. Anything at all.” Joann turned and moved away remarkably quickly for someone her size.

  Susan took a deep breath and hurried down the steps to the beach where the kayaks waited. James was nowhere to be seen. She paced back and forth, watching out for anything with spines or gelatinous substances. Who would have suspected these gorgeous beaches could be dangerous-or even lethal? On the other hand, who would have imagined going on vacation and becoming a suspect in a murder investigation? She sat down on an upturned kayak and looked around. The stone wall behind her blocked her view of the resort’s buildings, so she turned and looked out to sea-and realized she had a sensational view of the spot where Allison had been found.

  A Compass Bay beach towel was still draped across the lounge. Instead of the yellow police-line do-not-cross tape that would have been wound around the area in the States, here a bright red rope strung across the middle of the pier prevented the curious from getting too close to the crime scene. On the other hand…

  As she watched, a head popped up out of the surf, looked around, and apparently spying her, ducked back down.

  Susan jumped up and ran across the few feet to the water and waded in, trying to keep an eye on the underwater swimmer, but he-she was pretty sure it was a he-was impossible to spy beneath the lambent sunlight on the water.