The tea kettle whistled and she reached into the cabinet where she kept the green tea, her spirits rising as her fingers curled around a thin square of dark chocolate.
“Aha! I remember now.” She unwrapped the chocolate, popped it into her mouth, put a tea bag into her mug and then poured the boiling water over it.
Relishing the silky texture of the bittersweet chocolate melting in her mouth, Claire stepped out into her garden, her hand curled around the mug of steeping tea.
She walked down the garden path toward the edge of her property, as if drawn toward the sea. From the edge, she looked down at Crab Cove.
Was Zambuco down there talking to the fishermen?
She thought it was likely—he was probably trying to find out if Ben left the island after Zoila’s murder.
Which made Claire wonder … had Ben left the island, or was he safe somewhere? He would turn to either Sarah or Norma for help. Sarah denied knowing where Ben was and Claire believed her, which left Norma.
Norma had been in jail, but what if Ben had turned to her before she’d been jailed?
Claire wandered through her garden, pinching a dead bloom here and plucking a dead leaf there, her mind whirling with questions about the case.
Why hadn’t Norma told the truth? She must have known she would have an alibi at the hospice house, but she’d let herself be jailed rather than tell anyone what her and Zoila had argued about or that she’d gone to visit Anna.
Did the murder have something to do with Anna?
If Ben wasn’t the killer, then how did the murder weapon get in his shed?
Claire sipped her tea and looked out over the railing, feeling like a failure. She used to be able to solve these cases easily but she was much older now and out of practice. Still, this case was more important than any others because it involved her friends. Her fists tightened around the railing in frustration.
Down below, she could see Dom sitting on the bench that overlooked Long Sands Beach and wondered if he felt the same way she did. Were they too old to solve cases effectively?
Claire didn’t think so. Her mind still worked pretty good. Even now, it was going over the facts and sifting through the different personalities, trying to find inconsistencies that could help her solve the case.
There was one discrepancy that niggled at her.
Why would Shane lie about the time he was at Zoila’s the day before her murder?
Kenneth had said he’d seen Shane there at one o’clock, but Shane was pretty specific that he wasn’t there until after three.
“Meow!”
Claire looked down to see Porch Cat weaving her way through the garden, her eyes slitted against the bright sunlight.
“Hi, kitty. I don’t have anything for you today.” Claire made a mental note to pick up some cat treats next time she was in town.
She watched the cat rub her face against the trellis where she was growing a border of Imposter roses. This was her first year trying the pink flowers that looked like a clematis, but were actually a rose that would bloom all summer long. Several buds had formed on the plant during the last week and Claire was anxious to see them bloom.
Porch Cat sniffed at the plant, then reached out a paw and touched one of the buds as if she were trying to figure out if it was a rose or a clematis.
“Fools you, doesn’t it?” Claire sipped her tea and marveled at the plant. She never ceased to be amazed by nature, which fooled you into thinking things were one way when they were actually another.
She reached down to pet the cat, who was purring at her ankles. “In the garden, just like in life, things aren’t always what they seem.”
And then Claire realized what had been bothering her about Shane’s lie. She ran into the house, tossed her mug into the sink, grabbed her car keys and rushed out the door.
She had to talk to Dom right away. They’d made a terrible mistake. They’d taken the evidence at face value and thought things were one way, when that really wasn’t the case at all. And now, because of it, Zambuco was about to arrest the wrong person.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dom bit into the bocconotti cookie as he watched the waves lap at the beach. The confection, baked fresh this morning in the north end of Boston and delivered on the afternoon ferry, was lightly dusted in powdered sugar and bursting with strawberry jam. He barely tasted it, though. His mind was too busy trying to figure out where they'd gone wrong in solving the case.
Something didn't add up, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe he really was losing his touch. He hadn't investigated a murder case in many years, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was getting older. But that was on the outside—on the inside, he still felt young and this case had rekindled his enthusiasm and made him feel alive for the first time since Sophia's death.
There were still so many unanswered questions.
Why would Shane lie about the time he was at Zoila's?
Who else was at the zen garden that morning? Was it the real killer who dropped the Chowders bag?
Why didn't Kenneth take the family pictures from Zoila's?
What was on that old paper Zoila was arguing with Norma over?
What was Norma hiding, or who was she protecting?
Was the sketch of Zoila's cabin a clue?
Dom was sure something happened the morning of Zoila's death that made it urgent for the killer to silence her, because otherwise it would have been much smarter to kill her in her remote cabin. The killer had taken a big chance doing it in the public garden.
Zoila had a paper in her hand when she’d argued with Norma that morning. It must have something to do with the paper, but what would be so important that someone would kill Zoila and Norma wouldn't say a thing about it?
And if Norma knew whatever it was that got Zoila killed, would the killer go after Norma next?
He pulled another cookie out of the bag as he continued to contemplate the case. He had to admit, the clues did seem to point to Ben.
Ben was seen rushing away from the murder scene on his bike.
The white bag from Chowders had been dropped in the area.
Ben had previously visited Zoila.
Norma had visited Ben's mother that morning and was now protecting someone with her silence.
Ben frequented the one spot on the island where you could find Jonah crab.
… And now Ben was missing.
But his instincts told him something about those clues were not as they seemed. Claire was adamant that Ben wasn't capable of murder and he trusted her judgment.
Dom watched a sandpiper scurrying along the water line, pecking at the sand on the very edge of the water, then scurrying back as each wave approached.
Dom watched as the bird darted forward, leaving little forked footprints in the sand, then scurried back, the wave erasing the footprints he'd just left.
Over and over, he darted forward along the shore and over and over, the waves drove him back and erased his footprints.
Dom admired his persistence … and then Dom's eyebrows tingled electrically—he knew what had been bothering him all this time!
He jumped up from the bench. Shoving the bag of cookies in his pocket, he sprinted to his car for his cell phone. He had to contact Claire—they'd made a grave error in judgment and he hoped they could make up for it before it was too late!
***
Dom was almost to his car when Claire whipped into the parking lot, screeching to a stop beside him.
"I think I've figured part of it out—Shane wasn't the one who lied about what time he was at Zoila's, it was Kenneth!" Claire said excitedly. "I think he's trying to frame Ben."
Dom nodded. "Ben didn't do it and the footprint proves that."
"It does? But the footprint had the crab shells embedded in it."
"Precisely. Something's bothered me about that footprint all along and I just realized what it was. Zoila was killed violently, so there would have been a struggle, y
et there was only one footprint there."
"So?"
"Don't you see, there would have been many footprints. The killer must have raked the sand to get rid of the footprints he made so they couldn't be used as evidence."
"And then Ben came along after and saw Zoila already dead! That's why he's disappeared … he must have run off scared."
"We need to get in touch with Zambuco. Those crab shells in the footprint prove that Ben isn't the killer and I think the rake was planted in his shed. When Zambuco found the pile of rakes, I recognized one handle … I didn't realize it at the time, but one of the handles matches the equipment I saw in Kenneth's barn."
"And if all that's true, my theory about Kenneth lying about the time they were at Zoila's instead of Shane being the one who lied makes sense. Kenneth knew Ben delivered lunches between noon and two, so he had to say he was there during that time frame in order to claim he'd seen Ben there. Ben never was at Zoila’s that day."
"And Shane told the truth." Dom pressed his lips together, remembering the sand he’d felt under his feet at the counter that day. "The morning Zoila was killed, Kenneth came to the counter and then Shane came in after him. I felt sand under my feet when I went up and assumed it was from Shane … but given what we know now, I think the sand might have been from Kenneth, who was standing there before Shane."
"So Kenneth killed Zoila?" Claire asked. "But why? And why frame Ben and how does Norma fit into this?"
Dom's face turned grim. "I couldn't figure that out, either, but I might have an idea as to why … and if my theory is correct, Ben is in grave danger."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Claire desperately tried to get her cell phone to show some bars as they rushed to the point.
Where was Zambuco when they needed him?
Unfortunately, the detective was no longer following them around town. Dom and Claire were on their own.
To make matters worse, a thunderstorm was rolling in. Dark, gray clouds hung over the ocean adding a menacing feel, and the air felt alive with humid electricity. It was early dusk, but the clouds had made it darker than normal. Naturally, the lights were off in the Barrett mansion and just when Claire thought the scene couldn't get any more cliche, the sky lit up and a boom of thunder split the air just as they skidded to a stop in the circular driveway.
Fat drops of rain splattered on the car as they jumped out.
"The barn." Dom pointed toward the barn where a slice of yellow light spilled out from underneath the door and they made their way over quietly.
Claire's heart pounded as they stopped outside the door. Dom put his finger up to his lips to indicate silence and Claire rolled her eyes. After a career of consulting with the police, she knew enough to be quiet.
Voices wafted out from inside and she leaned forward to hear what they were saying while the rain drops soaked her hair and ran down her neck.
"Just write it on the paper and I won't hurt you." Claire cringed at the menacing tone in Kenneth's voice.
"But I didn't kill her." Ben's voice, trusting and innocent. Claire glanced at Dom, who was preening his eyebrows as he edged his way around the door trying to get inside.
Claire felt anger flood her chest. Kenneth was trying to frame Ben for Zoila's murder. He'd make a good scapegoat, too—his simple nature allowed him to be easily manipulated and he wasn't equipped to defend himself.
But she still couldn't figure out one thing … why had Kenneth killed Zoila in the first place?
"Kenny, I'm hungry." The pleading tone in Ben's voice speared Claire's heart and she bit her lip to keep quiet. She shuffled to the right, hiding behind a stack of boxes just inside the door so she could get a better look at what was going on.
Ben sat in the middle of the barn, his legs and torso tied to a metal chair. He had a pen and a piece of paper in his hand. Kenneth loomed over him, his back to Claire.
"Listen, you little jerk, just write the letter and I'll get you a pizza."
"But I didn't do it. I can't lie!"
Kenneth kicked the chair.
Ben cried out.
The lights flickered.
A deafening clap of thunder caused Claire to jump, dislodging the boxes which clattered to the floor.
Kenneth whirled around in her direction.
Claire's heart froze. She was caught.
Claire was unable to move. She realized she'd made a big mistake. She didn't have the power of an armed police team behind her like in the old days. All she had was Dom … and he didn't even have a gun.
Too bad Kenneth did have one, and he was pointing it at her right now.
"You!" Kenneth sneered. "I should have taken care of you when you were here before. But I'll just have to get rid of you now. Looks like Ben might have to kill you, too."
Claire's heart started up again. Kenneth was focusing on her, which meant he hadn't spotted Dom.
Was Dom still hidden outside the door?
She didn't dare look in that direction, afraid Kenneth might catch on that someone else was there if she did. Without a gun, she didn't know how helpful Dom would be, but at least he could run for the car and drive to the police.
"What are you talking about, Kenny? I didn't kill Claire—she's right here." Ben turned trusting eyes on Claire and her heart pinched.
Kenneth snorted. "I might have to change your note. You killed Zoila and Claire found out and confronted you, then you had to kill her, too. The guilt was too much so you killed yourself."
"No." Ben shook his head. "I did not hurt Zoila. I saw her lying in the garden."
"It's okay, Ben," Claire soothed, partly because her heart ached for Ben and partly because she knew her best chance of escape was to keep Kenneth talking while Dom ran for help. "We know you didn't hurt Zoila. Kenneth did."
Ben scrunched up his face and turned to Kenneth. "Why?"
"Yeah. Why did you kill Zoila?" Claire echoed.
"You and your great detective friend, Benedetti, couldn't figure it out?"
Claire crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, we figured out it was you …"
"Yeah. You see, I had to stop her. I couldn't give half my fortune to him." Kenneth jerked his head toward Ben.
"Half your fortune? What are you—?" Claire looked from Kenneth to Ben and then to Kenneth again. Her mouth dropped open when realization dawned on her.
She remembered Dom's feeling of deja-vu when they were at Ben's house, and now she knew what it was even if Dom hadn't recognized it himself. Ben and Kenneth bore an uncanny resemblance to each other, right down to the cleft chin which Claire knew was a genetic trait … one that Silas Barrett also had.
Kenneth and Ben were half-brothers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"Zoila found out you were brothers," Claire said softly.
Kenneth looked at Ben with contempt. "Half-brothers. Dear old Daddy couldn't be faithful."
"And Zoila was going to tell."
"That's right," Kenneth said. "Like most of the sappy islanders here, she had a soft spot for Ben and thought he should get a cut of the Barrett fortune. She had proof in Daddy’s own hand that he wanted it that way, and she said she'd give me one day to tell Ben myself and or she was going to tell him. She had a meeting with Ben that morning at the zen garden, but I got there first."
"That's the paper that she and Norma were arguing about," Claire said.
"Norma?"
"Yes, they argued right before she died. That's why Zambuco arrested her."
"Arrested her?" Kenneth’s face crumbled. "But that means that Norma knows…"
"That's right." Claire saw her chance and decided to take advantage of her psych skills to try to persuade Kenneth into giving up. "Norma knows and Dom knows, too, so it won't do you any good to kill me and Ben. It's better to give yourself up now and I'll help persuade the judge to go lenient on you."
Another clap of thunder, and Claire almost peed her pants as she watched Kenneth's gun wave around in his hand. His eyes had tak
en on a glazed look and were darting from her to Ben.
"I won't give up! No one will believe Norma, she's too crotchety. And I'll have to make sure that old washed up detective, Benedetti, meets with an accident."
Kenneth advanced toward Claire and brought his gun level with her forehead. She heard the click of the safety and she felt like a stone was lodged in her throat as she wracked her brain for something to say to persuade him to give her the gun.
She opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by another clap of thunder. The sound of a gunshot rang in her ears.
And then the lights went out.
***
Dom burst through the door just as the lights went out. He didn't know if Claire had been hit or not, but his old cop instincts kicked in and he launched himself in the direction of Kenneth without even thinking twice. As he flew through the air toward the gunman, he vaguely remembered that he didn't have a Kevlar vest on, but he wasn't concerned with his own safety. There were two people in danger in there and he had to do what he could to keep them safe.
The lights flickered on again just as Dom crashed into Kenneth, sending them both to the floor amidst the sharp report of another gunshot.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Claire rushing toward them. She kicked out at Kenneth, trying to dislodge the gun but to no avail.
"Let go, old man!" Kenneth yelled as he brought his knee up hard into Dom's stomach.
Dom grunted in pain, but managed to keep his grip on the hand with the gun. Claire kicked out again, this time connecting with Dom in a fatal mistake that caused him to loosen his hold.
Kenneth rolled away and sprang to his feet, waving his gun between Claire and Dom.
"Killing you two is going to be fun." Kenneth jerked the gun toward the middle of the barn where Ben was tied up. "Get over by Ben. That way, I can take care of the three of—"
A Zen For Murder Page 11