Cast Iron Alibi

by Victoria Hamilton

  She washed the few dishes and let them drip in the drainboard, then wiped down the surfaces in the bathroom. Rachel was immaculately tidy, thank heavens, and she never left the bathroom without it being spotless. Then Jaymie retreated to the bedroom where Tiffany had slept. How was she managing to style her hair without her product and devices? Maybe she had doubles of everything.

  Where to start? There was a ton of product: mousse, serum, clay, cream, paste, pomade, wax . . . how did her hair look good weighed down by all of that, then sprayed with hairspray? Any time Jaymie tried adding product to her own hair it felt weighed down and sticky. And then there were the appliances: curling iron and straightener—that was a weird combo—a blow dryer, a volumizer hot brush and a set of steam curlers.

  She found Tiffany’s duffel bag stuffed under the other dresser and tackled the appliances first, wrapping the cords around each item and piling them into the bag. She then did the same for the products, trying to be careful, worried that a bottle would open and spill its contents.

  She reflected back on the tangle among Gabriela, Logan and Tiffany. There were so many tensions and problems, not at all what she had thought their lives were like. Gabriela had painted a different portrait of her marriage when she first arrived. It was all happiness and fun, love and laughter, sunshine and rainbows. She had even mentioned trying for another baby. And yet she was the one who had masterminded coming to Heartbreak Island rather than camping at their normal campground. Why?

  There was one answer, of course. Gabriela was there to meet someone. The question was, was it the same someone as Brandi had met? Was she, too, having a fling with Mario Horvat? As hard as it was to imagine, it must be so. If she accepted that, then it answered her question about Logan and gave him a strong motive. And Logan had taken Terry’s boat out the night of the murder.

  Jaymie knew she’d have to ask Gabriela, and she dreaded it. Her friend’s feelings were easily hurt. She took offense, and then she’d cry and accuse the other person of picking on her. That was how many conversations ended between her and Brandi, and even her and Melody, with Jaymie and Rachel as the peacemakers.

  She stared down at the duffel bag, which she had packed carefully, using dividers to keep the product bottles upright. She got down on the floor to look under the dresser, to make sure nothing of Tiffany’s remained. Hoppy, who had trotted in to join her, snuffled around the bag she was packing. Then he shinnied under the dresser.

  “Hoppy, what are you doing? Did you find something?”

  A stray sock in his mouth, he tried to shimmy out from underneath, and whimpered, stuck. She carefully pulled him free, and with him, brushed by his hind leg, came a cell phone. Someone had dropped theirs. Weird, since typically they all had their phones on them 24/7. Maybe it was from a former guest, though she cleaned pretty thoroughly between renters.

  A sock and a cell phone. The sock was Tiffany’s; she remembered the woman wearing one like it with tennis shoes on the dinner cruise. So was the cell phone hers too? But no, she remembered Tiffany with her cell phone beside her on the table at the inn. Unless she had a second phone.

  “Jaymie, are you coming back out?” Gabriela came to the door and stared down at her.

  Jaymie concealed the cell phone. Until she had a chance to look at it and figure out whose it was, she didn’t want anyone to know she had found it. Because there was one person who she knew had lost a phone, and that was Mario Horvat.

  Nineteen

  “I’m coming out in a minute. Just give me a sec.”

  Gabriela disappeared, but Jaymie knew if she didn’t go out, either Gabriela or someone else would be back to check on her. She spent the rest of the afternoon with her friends. They got out a game of lawn darts and played for a half hour, then chatted with an excited Rachel, who returned from the tart bakery with more treats and a couple of pints of the butter tart ice cream.

  Gabriela looked tired, and Jaymie worried at the puzzle of her relationship with her husband, her sister-in-law, and possibly a lover. She wished she could come right out and say something to her friend, clear the air, but with so many tangles still knotted, she didn’t know how or what to ask. It wasn’t as easy with Gabriela as it would be with someone else, and if she was undecided, she needed to leave it alone until she had more clarity.

  Val got her alone for a few minutes and told her what she had discovered through her nephew. Will told her that it would be dead easy, of course, to snoop on someone if you knew their passwords, or could figure them out. Even a tech newbie could do that. If a husband could gain access to his wife’s account—or vice versa—he could snoop in whatever he wanted, private chats or messages meant to be secret. He could see where she had been, track her whereabouts in real time, maybe.

  It was chilling to Jaymie how exposed their cell phone usage may have made them. If Brandi or Gabriela were secretly communicating with Mario and making plans, either husband could easily snoop using passwords they knew or had found out.

  “What do you think this means?” Val asked.

  “It doesn’t seem as far-fetched as it did before, that either Brandi or Gabriela—or both of them, given what we know about Mario—cheated on her husband, who found out about it and took revenge.”

  “But which?”

  Jaymie shrugged. “I wish I knew. Should I be warning my friends?”

  “I don’t know, kiddo. It’s a police investigation at this point. You’ve told the police everything you know.”

  “Yeah, but Logan or Terry . . .” Jaymie sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know what to do.”

  They returned to their group of friends and shortly after received a shouted invitation down the hill from Ruby; they were having a barbecue and party, and everyone was invited. The Redmonds were convivial, generous and wonderful hosts, and were having their annual end-of-summer blast. The food was bountiful, catered by the Ice House. Wine and beer flowed.

  There were many neighbors Jaymie knew from the island, and quite a few she did not. Sammy Dobrinskie, Ashlee, and Sammy’s mom were there, but Sammy was working for Garnet, keeping the tables of food supplied, the half barrels full of ice for the beer and wine, and making sure there were enough places to sit and be comfortable.

  Melody, especially, made friends with the Redmonds. Jaymie was amused to overhear their conversation. Mel plied them with questions, especially when she learned their story, how Ruby had been the daughter of a Montreal mob boss, with Garnet, a former cop, hired to protect her. But the conversation soon headed off in other directions, finally leading to a long story about their sailing trip that summer, starting with the Bayview Mackinac race, which took them from Port Huron to Mackinac Island, after which they spent time sailing the Great Lakes.

  Finally, Garnet offered Mel—and anyone else who wanted to go; he was tipsy by then and in a grand mood—a trip along the river on their sailboat.

  The party lasted long into the night. But Jaymie couldn’t stop thinking and wondering about the cell phone, which felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket. Whose was it? Should she be turning it over to Detective Vestry? But she hadn’t had a chance to look at it yet; it could, possibly, be from a previous renter, or it could be one of the girls’. It could be Courtney’s, or Brandi’s; those two were still off on their “shopping” trip, which Jaymie knew was no shopping trip at all, but a break from the rest of them, a chance to cut loose and party.

  Which was fine, except that Brandi’s ex, Terry, might be a lunatic/stalker/murderer in a boat. Worried, Jaymie had Val check with the motel clerk she knew, and was relieved to discover that Terry was still there, at the motel, sitting by the pool all afternoon, and holed up in his room that evening, his car idle in the parking lot. Apparently, anyway. Jaymie fretted; what if he had rented a car and followed Brandi? But that wasn’t possible, not if he had been by the motel pool all afternoon. And he wouldn’t rent a car when he had his own with him. She shook her head, confused and upset. This was all taking a toll on her. />
  As the evening dwindled on, Rachel, especially, was getting along with everyone; she had met many of Garnet and Ruby’s guests already serving at Tansy’s Tarts, and was swiftly becoming an islander, as she jokingly referred to herself. Even Gabriela looked relaxed, sitting with Ruby and some of her friends, showing photos of Fenix on her phone.

  Her phone . . . Jaymie was getting antsy, wondering if she could sneak away and perhaps discover whose phone she had found, and if she could break into it. Many people had them locked, though she never did.

  Val ambled over and sat down next to her, where she sat in the shadows of the grove of trees that topped the hill. “You look like you’re ready to jump out of your skin,” she murmured, taking a sip of her wine and leaning close. “What is up with you?”

  Jaymie told her, checking over her shoulder often, what she had found.

  “Wow, a sock! What drama.”

  Jaymie smiled; it was good to have one friend in whom she could absolutely confide. “I’m dying to know what is on that phone, but I need time and privacy for that. I’m going to wait a bit, then sneak down to the cottage and check it out. Will you cover for me?”

  “Sure. Just give me a sign.”

  “Done.”

  Val was called away to settle some point of contention among islanders; all knew her as impartial to a fault, and she also had the best memory of anyone local for past events through the years.

  Gabriela slumped down in a chair by Jaymie and glanced at her. “I . . . I feel like maybe you believe those awful things Tiffany said about me.”

  Jaymie didn’t know quite how to answer, so she stayed silent.

  “I would never do anything to hurt Logan. He’s Fenix’s daddy!” she said, a sob catching at her voice.

  Jaymie watched her for a long minute. As confused as she was, there was one thing she could ask. “Gabriela, why did you change the booking? I know all about it, how you used Brandi’s email and canceled the campsite booking with a lie about a dead friend. Why did you change it and then lie to us all, that the campground was shut down because of a plumbing problem?”

  Sighing, she slumped down in her chair. “I guess it’s no secret now that Logan and I haven’t been getting along,” she said softly.

  “I understand that,” she replied, wondering what that had to do with canceling the booking.

  “No, you don’t understand. You have this perfect little life in your perfect town, with your perfect family and Jakob’s perfect family.” Her voice, filled with tension and anger, cracked. “You don’t know what it’s like to be criticized constantly. His mom is the worst, her and Tiffany. When Fenix was born that woman, Logan’s mom, was always snatching Fenix out of my hands and saying I wasn’t holding her right, I wasn’t diapering her right, I wasn’t feeding her right. Nothing I do is right.” She wiped tears off her cheeks and took a long drink. She had been drinking all evening and was more than a little tipsy. Whenever that had happened in the past it had tended to loosen her inhibitions to the point of telling her deepest secrets. “After I had Fenix, Logan wouldn’t touch me. We haven’t had sex in three years. Three years!” she sobbed.

  “I’m sorry, Gabriela,” Jaymie said.

  “I started playing this online game.”

  “LiveLoveLife?”

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “I hadn’t before Brandi told me about playing it. You assume a character and live life virtually. And you meet people.” She slid a glance over to her friend. “You meet men.”

  “I needed something to make me feel better about myself. Can you understand that? I gained all this weight,” she said, slapping her belly.

  “Aw, honey, be nicer to yourself,” Jaymie exclaimed, hurting for her friend.

  “I can’t take it off, and Logan doesn’t want me. Nobody wanted me!”

  “Except . . . ?” Jaymie felt there was an exception coming.

  “Except one guy.” She flicked a glance sideways, then stared straight ahead. “We flirted online, and it was so fun.” She sighed. “I had a spring in my step.”

  This was her old friend, and she was in pain, Jaymie thought. No judgment, as Mel would say. She took a deep breath. “You cheated on Logan?” Jaymie said, keeping her tone neutral.

  “No, I did not!”

  “But . . . you planned to?”

  Gabriela heaved a sigh. “I planned to. That’s why I canceled the campsite booking and convinced Brandi to ask you if we could stay in your cottage. I had seen on your booking site that you had a renter cancel for the end of August.”

  “The night we got home from Grand Bend you took off to meet him.”

  Gabriela, eyes wide, stared at Jaymie through the gloom. “I was going to meet him.” She paused, hung her head and said, her tone low, “But I didn’t.”

  Jaymie wanted to believe her. “I think I heard you leave that night, out the front door,” she said, not wanting to say that Rachel saw her go. “Where did you go then, if you didn’t meet your . . . your fling?”

  “I went for a walk,” Gabriela said, turning away. “To think. I needed to sort things out. I went down to the Ice House patio and sat there for a while. It was good to be alone with my thoughts, in the dark, no noise, nothing.”

  “Who was the guy, the one you were going to meet?”

  “I never knew his real name, because we never met, you see.” Her gaze, dusky in the dim shadows, was pleading. She sniffed. “When it came down to it, I didn’t want to cheat on my husband. I still love Logan.” Her voice softened and broke on his name.

  Jaymie was silent. If it was just a misstep, just a guy she chatted with and never met, then it was none of her business. But what if she was lying? What if she had met up with Mario? Jaymie shook her head, confused. The one sure thing was that Gabriela was most definitely not the hot redhead he was enamored with. She could be another of his online flings, whether they had ever gotten together or not. And either way, steady cheat or slightest fling, there was not a single reason on earth why Gabriela would want him dead.

  There were others with strong motives: Kory; Hallie; Logan; Terry; Brandi, even, or . . . she stilled. There was one person she hadn’t considered as Mario’s killer. Someone who had a nasty temperament. Someone who appeared to be trying to railroad an innocent person with a devastating accusation.

  Tiffany. Her heart beat quicker. Who had shown up at the precise moment when everything went bad. Who, with her brother, had access to a boat and therefore access to Mario. Maybe Tiffany and her brother were in on it together, with Tiffany dispatched to keep track of Gabriela and report her movements back to Logan.

  “Gabriela, come over here for a minute,” Rachel said, beckoning to their friend, her face glowing with good humor and a few glasses of wine. She was the hit of the party, the new cute girl in town, and already had a date for the fall festival in two months. Gabriela got up and joined her, and she put her arm around her shoulders. “I want you to tell these guys about that time in college when Brandi had those two Colombian exchange students hidden in her room! You tell it funnier than I do. ¿Donde esta Brandi?” She giggled woozily and tugged Gabriela toward a group of partiers.

  Jaymie was left in the semi darkness of the edge of the patio, listening to the peeper frogs and chirp of crickets. Hoppy was sleepy; it was time to take him back to the trailer. She gave the signal to Val, who nodded. If anyone noticed her gone, Val would cover for her.

  She scaled down the hill in the dark, the play of the narrow beam from her flashlight showing the way from step to step. Away from the party, their chatter and laughter was muffled by the trees and brush, just a hushed babble in the night. Soothing, in a way, like waves on a shore. She was not alone.

  Back at the cottage she let Hoppy have one last piddle and some snacks, while she sat at the kitchen table in the cottage and turned the phone on, examining it in the glow of the table lamp that lit the kitchen. The phone had plenty of power, and it wasn’t locked. She explored a bit, getting familiar w
ith a different device. How could she tell whose it was? She wished she were more technically minded, but she wasn’t. There were several apps on the main page, all dating apps. She found hundreds of text messages. The contact list was like a virtual little black book, with dozens of contacts with no real names, just screen names: 1HawtMama, BigNBootyful, NastyGurl. And the reply contact name was always the same . . . HawtMarineBoy.

  That, then, was her answer. This was most definitely a man’s phone, and it had to be Mario’s; Brandi had said he posed online in the game app as a hot young Marine stud, to her disappointment. Who else could the owner of the phone be? Could Brandi have ended up with it after their night together? Why would she keep it? It was a puzzler.

  One constant messenger, a woman who the phone owner had apparently met repeatedly, was called BigRed. There were steamy texts back and forth, ones that made Jaymie blush. And the pictures! Maybe that was his redheaded lover, the one he was thinking of dumping Hallie for.

  She was about to turn the phone off, knowing that now she’d discovered who it belonged to she’d have to turn it over to Detective Vestry in the morning, when one last picture caught her eye on the string of text messages from the phone owner’s most ardent correspondent. It was the top curve of a pale breast, with a tattoo of a bird, or . . . no, that wasn’t just any bird. She squinted and brought the phone up closer to her face.

  It was a phoenix.

  A phoenix . . . Gabriela saying she had her baby tattooed over her heart. Her baby, Fenix. So, she knew already what Gabriela had told her, that she had corresponded with a guy but had not met him. She could have sent the photo, and yet still be telling the truth. She heard voices; the others were coming back. Confused and worried, she shoved the phone in her hoodie pouch and stood, wiping a tear out of her eyes. Her mind stumbled, her thoughts chaotic. But she pushed them aside and pasted a smile on her face, rushing to the sink to be busy, putting away the last of the dishes in the drainboard.