Death in a Beach Chair

by Valerie Wolzien

  “I never suggested that she had been drinking,” Veronica said. “Why would you think of that?”

  “Why else would she fall down like that?” Susan asked, bewildered by Veronica’s hostile response.

  “People are always judging. I had thought that with all the problems your friends were having, you might be different. But I guess I was mistaken!” Plunging her paddle in the water with a strength Susan would never have suspected, Veronica skimmed across the surf to rejoin her group.

  Susan remembered Veronica and her husband’s strange drink exchange too late to change to a subject that they both might find acceptable. Oh, well. She was now about a quarter of a mile behind her companions. To her left, the breeze off the water bent palm trees toward the silvery sand of deserted beaches. To her right, the water reflected the darkening sky. A pair of pelicans flew overhead. Looking down into the water, Susan saw her own reflection blending with the colorful fish below. It was beautiful. It was quiet. It was a perfect spot to think through everything that had happened in the past few days. Susan began by considering the possible suspects. Allison had made a point of being friendly with everyone who was staying at Compass Bay (except for the honeymooners), so why couldn’t one of them be the killer? Peggy and Frank were from Connecticut. Perhaps they had known Allison. Perhaps Frank’s affair had been with Allison. Peggy claimed to have forgiven, but Susan got the impression that her feelings weren’t exactly under control. What if they had arrived here for their second honeymoon only to discover the woman who destroyed their marriage already in residence? Would Peggy have killed her husband’s lover for revenge? Would Frank have killed his ex-lover for any reason at all?

  Susan wasn’t sure that made sense, and she suddenly realized that she wasn’t going to find out-at least, not now. Now she had more serious problems. Her kayak, no longer floating on the water, was on the way to becoming a submarine.

  “Hey! James! Ro! Veronica! Randy! Hey!” She held her paddle across her chest with one hand and waved the other. “Hey! Help!”

  The quartet turned at her call and waved back, big smiles on their faces. For a few seconds, Susan wondered if they were glad she was about to sink into the water, if her kayak’s demise was intentional. Then she realized the wind was blowing away from her. They couldn’t hear her. She grabbed both ends of her paddle and raised it in the air above her head. In Maine, this was known among kayakers as a distress signal. Either the same was true in the Caribbean or it was such an unusual thing to do that it couldn’t be ignored, but as she watched, James spun his kayak around and began to paddle toward her.

  Susan smiled, relieved, although she knew he wasn’t going to be fast enough. Gently, as though rocking a baby to sleep, her boat sank below the surface. Supported by her life vest, she clutched the paddle and waited for rescue. Looking down, she spied a green parrot fish doing figure eights around her knees. A nearby pencil-thin barracuda, thankfully, didn’t show the same interest.

  “Mrs. Henshaw! Are you all right?”

  “I’m just fine. Can’t say the same for my kayak,” she added.

  “That’s not important. Now we have a problem. How can we get you onto my kayak?”

  “It won’t support us both,” Susan protested.

  “I can swim by your side.”

  “I have a better idea,” Susan said. “Why don’t I just hang on to the back and you can kind of tow me in?”

  “That would work, but… are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

  “I’m sure. The water is wonderfully warm. If you’re strong enough to paddle back carrying the extra weight…”

  “No problem. Let’s make everyone understand what we’re doing and we’ll start out.”

  Ro and Veronica appeared with Randy, paddling vigorously, trailing behind. James explained their plan.

  “What a horrible thing. You could have drowned!” Ro exclaimed.

  Susan, busy trying to figure out how to hang on to the ropes tied to the rear of James’s boat without getting rope burn, just smiled.

  “And now Mrs. Henshaw gets a free ride back to Compass Bay. The rest of you will have to paddle for yourself.”

  No one said anything more. As the tide was coming in, they easily made it back to shore. As soon as Susan’s feet hit the sandy sea bottom, she dropped the rope and swam. If anyone had asked, she would have described the last half an hour as innocuous.

  Apparently Lila didn’t feel that way at all. She was waiting on the beach, towels in hand, ready to help Susan (who didn’t need it) out of the water and up onto the sand.

  “Mrs. Henshaw! Are you all right? Should I call a doctor?”

  “I’m fine. Absolutely fine,” Susan assured her honestly. “Your kayak is sitting on the bottom of the ocean, but I’m fine.”

  “I’m certainly glad to hear that. But why don’t I find Lourdes and she can give you a massage on the house.”

  “Well, I…” Susan hated to refuse, but she really had other things to do. “I need to meet Jed,” she lied. “I’ll just go back to my cottage and shower.”

  “If you’re sure…” Apparently satisfied, Lila directed her attention elsewhere. “James, you’ll be in my office as soon as the kayaks are secured.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Before he turned back to his task, Susan was surprised to see the expression on his face. He looked afraid.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Jed was nowhere to be found, and Susan decided that the shower she had used as an excuse to get away by herself was an excellent idea after all. She had learned a lot this morning, but nothing intrigued her as much as Lila’s reaction to the kayaking accident. The woman had been what Susan’s children would have called “off the wall.” Why would a simple accident upset Lila more than a murder or Jerry’s arrest or Kathleen’s assault? Susan was pouring cream rinse into her palm when the answer struck her. It hadn’t been an accident. Someone had tried to kill her. Lila wasn’t seeing what happened as an individual accident, but as the latest event in a line of horrible events. Events that could damage the reputation of Compass Bay.

  Her kayak must have been sabotaged! But by whom? Susan scrubbed the salt from her skin and thought. The person who did it must have known that Susan was going to end up with that kayak. And who would have known that? James… No, in fact, James had been up at the kiosk when Ro, Randy, and Veronica picked out their boats. It had to be one of those three people. Or all three? Susan played around with that thought before discarding it. Regarding them as a foursome was fine, but they were four individuals. And she needed to consider each individually. And she shouldn’t, she realized, exclude Burt. Burt may not have gone on the trip, but he certainly was around when the other three were selecting their vessels. He could have made a hole in the remaining kayak while the others were busy putting on their vests and dousing themselves, yet again, with another layer of sunscreen.

  But how could she find out? Those who were willing to answer her questions when she asked about Kathleen wouldn’t necessarily answer questions about their friends. On the other hand, anyone overlooking the beach could have seen what was happening. Susan tried to remember if she had noticed anyone nearby.

  It was hopeless, she finally decided, flipping off the shower and grabbing a thick towel to wrap around her hair. She was tying her robe’s sash when she heard someone at the door. “Jed? Is that you?”

  “No, Mrs. Henshaw. It’s me. Lourdes.”

  Susan hurried across the room and opened the door. “Hi.”

  “Miss Lila send me here. She think maybe you need massage after your ordeal this morning.”

  “How nice, but I told her that I was fine.”

  But Lourdes was already inside the cottage. “If you not mind, Mrs. Henshaw, I would like to talk to you. If you do not mind.”

  “Of course not. Is something wrong?”

  “Yes. Something is very, very wrong. We are all very, very upset.”

  “What is it?”

  “We worry about James. We all
worry about James.”

  “Why? He’s just fine. You should have seen the way he paddled his kayak back to land-”

  “James is very strong. But that will not keep Lila from firing him.”

  “Why would she do that? He seems to be the person who keeps this place running smoothly.”

  “Yes. That’s right. James is very, very important at Compass Bay. But Lila is very, very angry at him. Things like today not supposed to happen. Guests are not supposed to be in accidents.”

  Susan didn’t know how to respond to that. Apparently it was okay if guests were murdered, assaulted, or kidnapped, but a hole in a kayak was unacceptable. Susan knew she had never been in any danger. The water was warm; she wasn’t terribly far from shore; help was nearby. What was Lila so upset about?

  “James is a wonderful man. Many, many people who work here owe much to him. And he has large family that he supports. It is very important that he stay at Compass Bay.”

  “Is Lila going to fire him?” Susan asked, appalled.

  “Ms. Lila is very, very mad,” Lourdes said again.

  “What does he want me to do?”

  “Oh, no! You not understand. I ask you for help. Many of us on staff, we ask you for help. James not ask. James not know I am here.”

  “You and… the other members of the staff-what do you think I can do to help?”

  “If you could, please, go talk to Lila. Tell her that James saved your life. That he did nothing wrong today. That you feel terrible if he be blamed for your unfortunate accident.”

  “Look, all of that is true. Well, he probably didn’t save my life. I wasn’t in any real danger,” Susan said. “But why do you think anything I can say will help?”

  “Lila care most about opinions of guests. That is what Lila care about.”

  Susan sighed. She might as well try to help James. She certainly wasn’t helping anyone else. “I’ll go talk to her immediately.”

  “But not tell her that I come see you,” Lourdes urged.

  “Of course not.” Susan was fairly sure Lila’s image of her was so low that nothing could damage it-although she was also fairly sure Lila wouldn’t appreciate her butting into Compass Bay’s business.

  “You go now. Before something stupid happen to James.”

  “Yes. But will you do me a favor? Would you find out if anyone has seen my husband recently?”

  “Yes. You do James favor. I do you favor.” Smiling broadly, Lourdes left the cottage.

  “Well, no time like the present,” Susan informed her reflection in the wall mirror.

  Lila was at the front desk flipping through some reservation forms. She looked up with a smile, which disappeared when she recognized Susan, only to be replaced immediately.

  “Mrs. Henshaw. What can I do for you? I hope you’ve recovered from your ordeal. Perhaps you’ve reconsidered my offer and would like a massage?”

  “I’m absolutely fine,” Susan said. “I wanted to tell you how wonderful James was when I discovered my kayak sinking. He didn’t waste a minute getting to me and bringing me back to land. He wanted me to get up in his kayak, but I thought it would be better if he just towed me behind. He was wonderful,” she repeated.

  “Ah, well, many of our guests grow quite fond of James during their stay.”

  “He must be quite a valuable employee,” Susan said.

  “All our employees are valuable to us,” Lila said. Obviously she was losing interest in their conversation; she picked up the papers she had been sorting through when Susan entered the room. “Oh, Mrs. Henshaw, I almost forgot. There’s a message here for you. The call must have come in while you were out this morning.”

  It was from Jed. “Still with Jerry. Everything okay. He says we don’t have to worry about Kathleen anymore. Repeat. Anymore.”

  Susan frowned. “Thanks.”

  “Everything okay?” Lila asked.

  Susan suspected that the other woman had read the note before passing it on, so she merely nodded. She turned and then remembered the reason she was here. “You will give James my thanks for everything he did today, won’t you?”

  “Of course. But you can tell him yourself, you know. Or leave him a note at the employees’ lounge.”

  “Where is the employees’ lounge?”

  “Right across the street. The little stucco building beside the parking lot.”

  “Maybe I’ll do that,” Susan said, folding the piece of paper and sticking it in her pocket.

  “Watch the traffic. There aren’t a lot of cars on the island, but there are even fewer safe, competent drivers.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Susan turned and left the office, walking across the large patio, under the bougainvillea-covered arch that formed the entry to Compass Bay. Taxis had picked her up and dropped her off here, but she hadn’t paid any real attention to the unpainted stucco building sitting in the middle of a dirt field on the other side of the street. Cautiously looking both ways down the deserted street, she headed toward the run-down building. A few of Compass Bay’s brightly colored chairs, broken-down and in disarray, sat around the building. French doors were open and Susan could see even more utilitarian furniture inside. She walked in.

  The building was deserted. Rusting metal chairs stood about equally disreputable metal tables displaying the remains of a meal. A large mouse-Susan refused to think rat-scurried across the filthy floor. The place was a mess except for the large bulletin board hung on an unpainted wall. Messages, printed in heavy black marker on thick white paper, had been hung neatly. Curious, Susan wandered over close enough to read them.

  The first was a listing of each cottage and its occupants. Under the names (first and last of each member of the party) was the check-in and checkout date, the guest’s hometown and state, and services that had been reserved. Susan noticed that the honeymooners were scheduled for sequential massages every other afternoon, as well as room service breakfast to be delivered daily-and promptly-at eleven A.M. Beside this order someone had written “KNOCK FIRST!!!!!!”

  Moving even closer and squinting, she realized that each guest’s name had been annotated, and, some, judging from the variety of handwriting, by more than one person.

  Next to the Henshaws’ cottage number and their names was written “neat & nice” then a couple of stars, and finally “detective wannabe.” Slightly insulted, Susan continued her perusal.

  The Gordons were depicted by three amateurish sketches of skulls and crossbones and a lot of exclamation points. Susan frowned.

  Joann and Martin weren’t well loved by the staff, she noted. “Pickie!” someone with minimal spelling skills had written. “Kayak 1-3 MWF” read another. “Slobs!” said yet another note.

  Susan was intrigued by the note next to Veronica and Randy’s cottage: “Large pitcher of rum punch-no ice-room service at four P.M. each day-do not be late!” “Nothing else matters, man!” someone else had added. “One drink for my lady and one more for the road,” an apparent Sinatra fan had scrawled. It had been edited by another, turning it into “5 drinks for that lady and none for the road.” The final editing said, “That’s no lady, that’s his wife-STAY AWAY!”

  Equally interesting was the complete lack of comment next to Ro and Burt’s cottage. Names. Dates. Nothing else.

  But Rose Anderson also had nothing written by her name. Was that because there was nothing to say about the shy, timid woman, or had someone erased any notations-as Susan suspected had been done next to the Parkers’ names?

  “Mrs. Henshaw. I understand you’ve been looking for me.”

  Susan turned and discovered James leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest.

  “Yes,” she answered. “I wanted to thank you for all you did today. And I have some questions.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Jed was sitting in the bar, a large, untouched gin and tonic on the table before him. “If you’re not careful, the staff will be leaving notes in the staff lounge about your drinking habi
ts,” his wife said, sitting down beside him.

  “What?”

  “It’s not important. Jed, I know where Kathleen is!”

  “So do I. At home in Hancock. How do you know?”

  “How do you know?” she asked at the same time.

  “You first,” Jed urged.

  “James told me. Apparently he’s related to the owner of the taxi company and knows the driver who took her to the airport.”

  “Not surprising. That young man seems to know everyone on the island-and be related to at least half of them.”

  “How do you know about Kathleen?”

  “Frances Adams told me. Kathleen called her-”

  “From Connecticut?”

  “Yes, let me explain. Do you want a drink of your own?” he asked, as Susan picked up his glass and sipped.

  “Yes, but that’s not important! Go on! Tell me everything!”

  “There’s not a whole lot to tell. Kathleen called the embassy office this afternoon while I was with Jerry. She spoke to Frances Adams, who came down immediately and told us about the call.”

  “Why did she take off?”

  “Kathleen said she left Compass Bay and flew home to see if she could discover anything that would help Jerry.”

  “And what did she find out?”

  “Nothing. She told Frances Adams that the trip was a waste of time. And, of course, now she has another problem.”

  “What?”

  “The island police are not at all happy about her leaving. They’re threatening to arrest her if she returns to the island.”

  “Can they do that?”

  “Apparently so. At least, they can hold her, which is really the same thing. Frances suggested that she remain in Connecticut until this is all resolved.”

  “Boy, is she an optimist! I can’t imagine how that will happen.”

  Jed instantly looked concerned. “So you didn’t come up with anything today?”