by Tessa Kelly
Cheeks slightly pink under everyone’s speculative stares, Ashley gave the others at the table a tentative smile as she sat down. Susan and Vincent acknowledged her with barely-there nods. Carl smiled back.
“Thirsty?” He poured iced lemonade from the pitcher on the table and pushed the glass across to her.
Susan rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Carl? One is not enough for you?”
Leonie glanced between him and Ashley with a vague worry. Carl tightened his mouth, looking annoyed, but said nothing.
Everyone else was back to watching me. Smirking, Vincent nodded at the cut on my forehead. “What happened to you? Take a tumble in the shower?”
“Not in the shower. In the ocean. It turned out to be very enlightening, if not too invigorating.”
Jennifer huffed. “Enough already! Stop wasting our time and get to it, or I’m leaving.”
I kept my expression neutral. “You’re right, Jennifer. And if there are no more questions about my appearance, let’s get to the real reason we’re here. Which is, to figure out what happened the night of Timothy’s death.”
“And I guess you know exactly what happened that night,” Susan said, eyeing me sarcastically. She and Vincent exchanged another one of their looks. I ignored them.
“When we heard that Eric’s sailboat became unmoored,” I said, “everyone thought it was an accident. I was suspicious, though. Several things I’d witnessed the evening before put me on the alert for possible troubles ahead. Hours later, when the boat was found, I decided to go aboard and see if I was right. What I found below deck convinced me that Timothy’s disappearance was no accident.”
I paused and looked them over. Some of them already knew what I was talking about. Others looked perplexed. I told them about the lock on Timothy’s door, and the way that someone had tampered with it the night of the accident.
Majandra’s eyes widened with horror as I talked. “Oh, my God! Why would someone want Timothy to lock himself in his cabin?”
“We’re coming to it,” I assured her.
I took a deep breath, making an effort to keep my thoughts straight. My head was still woozy.
“The thing that made it difficult was that, from the beginning, there had been plenty of suspects, each with his own motive and opportunity. I knew, for instance, that Vincent had been at the dock that night. By his own admission, he saw the sailboat drifting out to sea.”
Several pairs of eyes turned to Vincent in astonishment. Eric, visibly shaken, half rose from his seat. Vincent glanced at him and threw up his hands. “Fine. I was there. But I never touched those mooring lines! What would I want with that guy anyway? I barely knew him.”
“But he did hit on your girlfriend earlier that night,” I pointed out with a glance at Susan who blanched. “For some people, that might be motive enough.”
“Yeah, but those people are psychos.” Vincent shrugged and draped his arm over Susan’s shoulder. “Sure, I was mad. I could’ve punched him for flirting with my girl, but that’s as far as I go. I never thought about killing him. And even if I did, you think I’d go sneaking around some boat in the middle of the night making trick locks? I’d just bash the guy’s head in...or something.”
“Vincent!” Susan cried in shock.
He rolled his eyes. “Relax. I just said I never laid a finger on him.”
I nodded. “Fair enough. That still doesn’t answer why you were there in the first place.”
“I was taking a walk, okay?” he said angrily. “I told you all this, about my headache and stuff. Why are you asking again?”
“Because it wasn’t true,” I said. “Otherwise, you would’ve reported the boat drifting. You didn’t want your presence there known, because you went there with a very specific purpose in mind.”
“Oh, yeah?” He leaned back and leveled an arrogant stare at me. “What purpose is that?”
“You were interested in Eric’s boat. During the outing that evening, I saw you asking questions about it, wanting to know how fast it could go, even getting Timothy to let you steer for a while. After we got back, I heard you upstairs on the phone, asking someone whether everything was ready.”
“So? I was just talking with one of my contacts at work.”
“Okay. Then can I have your phone?” I stretched out my hand, palm up. I was playing a hunch but was fairly certain it was right.
“We can call that number right now,” I told him, “and then there’ll be no more doubts.”
For the first time, Vincent’s eyes looked worried. Next to him, Susan bit her lip and stared at the table, rigid as a statue.
Vincent shook his head. “I don’t know where my phone is. I think I left it in my room.”
Sheriff Watkins suddenly edged forward in his seat. “Young man, you can let us see that phone, or I can get a warrant and make you hand it over. Your choice.”
For a moment, everyone stared at him in surprise. I held back a smile. At least, the man was smart enough to know it was time to stop hindering the investigation and start pitching in.
“Enough!” Susan leaped from her seat. “You don’t need to get any warrants. I’ll tell you everything.”
Vincent jerked forward as if to stop her, but she gave him a warning glance. “Vincent didn’t kill anyone, okay? He’s just covering up for me. For us. We didn’t want anyone to know we were going to take Eric’s boat around the island to the airfield.”
“What?” Jennifer cried, looking aghast. “Why would you do that?”
Nostrils flaring, Susan turned to face her. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and swallowed, suddenly looking deflated.
“When we were on the boat,” I said, “I overheard Susan talking about Vegas. I think they were going to fly there to get married, and they wanted to keep it a secret, knowing how much you’re opposed to their relationship. Am I right, Susan?”
There was silence as Susan nodded and sat down again, avoiding her mother’s eyes. Jenifer stared at me, then at her daughter. She seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
“That’s who Vincent was talking to that night,” I concluded. “East Sea Island’s airfield. He was making sure the plane would be ready so he and Susan could fly it to Vegas. After he was assured everything was ready and waiting for them, all they needed was a means to get to the airfield. Taking a car would’ve been difficult, as that would require stealing the keys from Henry or John, which I’m guessing Susan didn’t want to do. Eric’s boat starts at the push of a rocker switch. It was the perfect escape vehicle. Except for this: Susan and Vincent didn’t realize they weren’t the only ones who needed the use of the boat that night. Others had plans for it, with more serious and far-reaching consequences. By the time they came to the dock, the boat was already sailing out to sea.”
Almost everyone in the room turned to stare at the young couple, waiting to hear what they would say. Susan and Vincent sat in morose silence, avoiding even each other’s eyes. Their complete lack of denial confirmed my guesses.
“Why didn’t you two notify anyone?” Henry asked in a grave voice.
Susan finally looked up. Her eyes narrowed in anger. “Because we knew if Mother found out about our plans, we’d never hear the end of it. How were we supposed to know the boat shouldn’t have been out there? We thought Eric decided to take it out for another spin or something. I was so mad!”
“Okay,” I said. “Failed hijacking aside, I think it’s safe to say Susan and Vincent weren’t directly involved in Timothy’s death. It might’ve been avoided, had they informed the hotel that the boat was drifting. Same goes for you,” I added, looking at Dr. Jennings who gulped and turned red. “You were also there that night, and you had a much more serious reason for hating Timothy.”
“Please!” Jennings covered his face with his hands, shaking like a leaf. “Please...”
Dr. Huber put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Miss James, can’t you see what you’re doing to him? Yes, Ron’s family had a history with the de
ad man, but is it really necessary to bring that up now? Ron is not a murderer, I can vouch for that.”
“I told you, I never saw him that night,” the other murmured, his words muffled by his hands.
“But you did see someone else out there,” I said. “Can you tell us who?”
“Why?” he cried, looking even more distraught. “It has nothing to do with it. And...we must preserve some decorum.”
“Anything could be important when it comes to untangling a murder mystery,” I said. “And in this case, I’m afraid that’s especially true. Please, Doctor. Go on, tell us.”
Jennings clasped his trembling hands in his lap and stared at them for several long moments. Then he slowly turned and pointed at Ashley. “I saw that young lady coming out of the guest bungalows the night of the accident.”
As one, all heads turned to Ashley. She paled, then straightened, holding her head high.
“It’s true.” Her voice rang clear in the silence. “I was coming out of Carl’s bungalow. We’ve been seeing each other every night since he got here.”
Chapter 23
There was a confused murmur. Some people were glancing at Carl, others at Leonie who looked flustered. Jennifer clapped her hands to her mouth, eyes wide with outrage.
“Carl, I can’t believe this. You’re having a fling with a girl who fixes toilets for a living!”
Carl sighed. “That’s not all Ashley does.”
“And it’s not just a fling,” I said. “I found the website for the hotel in Boston where Ashley and her father used to work. Atlantic Luxury. It has a restaurant on the first floor, Cervelles au Beurre Noire, the same restaurant where Carl works as a sous chef. It’s not a far stretch to suppose that Ashley and Carl met in Boston, before Ashley’s father died and she had to move away. That’s why, when Carl heard his uncle was looking for a venue for Henry’s wedding, he suggested Sand Reed. It was a golden opportunity to spend a whole weekend together. Am I right?”
“So that’s why you suggested it?” John glanced at Carl over his shoulder and chuckled. “You little sneak.”
Carl nodded reluctantly. “It’s true. We got together when Ashley was still living in Boston, but we had to hide our relationship from my mother.”
Jennifer gasped. “Why?”
Carl stared at her. “You really have to ask? Look at how you are with Susan and Vince.”
“That’s...different,” she said with a pinched expression.
“Cause you think Vince is going to be like dad? That’s bull. Anytime I tried to bring a girl home you always found something to criticize. Either her makeup is too loud, or her accent is too strong, or you don’t approve of the school she went to. You just want me to marry someone wealthy from our social circle. I knew if you found out about Ashley you’d criticize her too, and I didn’t want to put her through that.”
He turned away and sat brooding with his arms crossed. Jennifer opened her mouth, made a huff, and glared at her son’s back.
“Well,” I said. “At the very least, here’s another mystery we’ve solved. And cleared two people of motives, it seems. But the case still has other suspects.” I looked at Eric as I said that. “Of all the people here, you had the most reason to hate Timothy. You wanted him off your boat, you told me so yourself.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. He seemed on the verge of adding more, but then thought better of it.
“And who wouldn’t hold a grudge?” I said. “Timothy was humiliating you by carrying on an affair with your wife in front of everyone.” I glanced at Majandra who sat very still, her face devoid of expression. “And what about you? Was it absolutely necessary to flaunt your affair and to disrespect your husband like that?”
Pat and Nancy nodded vigorously, their faces a study in disapproval. Majandra said nothing.
“Maybe the question isn’t whether it was necessary,” I said, addressing the room as a whole. “But, rather, why?”
Geraldine frowned. “What do you mean, Sandie?”
“Well, didn’t it almost seem at times as if Majandra and Timothy’s conduct was a little too overt? Like, maybe they were trying to provoke Eric with the affair?”
No one answered, but there were a couple of nods. Most of them looked dubious, uncertain of where I was going with this. The silence in the room was taut with tension. Majandra stared at me coldly.
“You wanted everyone to know Eric had plenty of reason to kill Timothy,” I said. “That way, when Timothy went missing it was likely that Eric would become the prime suspect.”
“Are you telling us it was Majandra?” Nancy cried. “Did she kill Timothy to send her husband to jail?”
Dr. Huber shook his head. “Ridiculous! If Majandra wanted to get rid of her husband, killing Timothy would get her nowhere. There’s absolutely no proof Eric was anywhere near the boat that night.”
“Thank you, Michael,” Majandra said primly. She patted down her hair and stared me down, impressing me with all her injury and indignation.
“Dr. Huber is right,” I said. “Majandra didn’t kill Timothy.”
Pat threw up her hands in exasperation. “Then who untied those mooring lines? Tell us already! I can’t take the suspense anymore.”
A murmur of agreement swept through the room. I waited for it to die down, then cleared my throat.
“It was Timothy, of course. He undid the mooring lines himself.”
Complete silence followed my statement. Most of them stared at me like I had a screw loose in my head. Majandra’s eyes widened with shock.
“But you just told us it was murder,” Carl said. “What are you trying to say now, that Timothy killed himself? He undid the mooring lines and then locked himself in his cabin?”
I shook my head. “No. Timothy had no intention of dying when he set sail that night. Remember, when he and Majandra met, they believed Eric had only a few months to live. After Eric was gone, Majandra would inherit the money and marry her lover. But to everyone’s surprise, Eric started getting better. It now appeared as though he was going to live. That’s when Majandra and Timothy hatched a new plan, which the unexpected invitation to Geraldine and Henry’s wedding only helped to expedite. Timothy would go missing in a freak boat accident and there would be plenty of witnesses to his sudden disappearance. All the time leading up to the accident, he and Majandra would flaunt their affair, giving Eric the opportunity to show jealousy. Then, on the said night, Timothy would sail out and leave the boat adrift while he swam back to shore in the scuba gear he kept on board. As a former scuba instructor, it would’ve been easy for him. He would hide out in the woods for a couple of days. No one would think to look for him there, as the authorities would be searching out in the ocean. When they found the boat, everyone would assume he was dead.”
“But why did Timothy want that?” Geraldine asked. “What could he gain by being dead?”
“Immunity,” I said. “You can’t be a murder suspect, if you’re dead.”
Her mouth fell open as her eyes found Eric.
“Yes,” I said. “It was a clever plan in two parts. First, Timothy would be presumed dead. The authorities might suspect Eric of murder. If not, in due course, Majandra would arrange to be away for a few days, maybe visiting her family. In her absence, Eric would meet with an accident. Majandra would be beyond suspicion, of course. And Timothy, being dead, would be safe under an assumed identity somewhere. Majandra, now a rich woman, would eventually leave the country and reunite with her lover, in South America, probably.”
There was a moment of silence again, then Tray said, speaking up for the first time, “If it was as you say, then I guess no one killed Timothy. His drowning was an accident?”
“You’re forgetting about the trick lock,” I said. “No. Murder definitely took place. But to explain what happened, we have to retrace our steps back to Friday night.”
I turned to Dr. Jennings again. “What time did you say Ashley left Carl’s bungalow that night?”
He blin
ked. “Um... about one-thirty in the morning, I should say.”
“That’s a lie!” Ashley cried, surging from her chair. She turned pink as all heads swung in her direction and murmured, “It was much later...probably after five in the morning. It was getting light out.”
“Hm.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It looks like at least one of you is lying.”
Jennings gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. Flustered, he and Ashley stared at me with outrage.
“Ashley is telling the truth,” Carl said, standing up to take her hand. “I can swear she left my bungalow when she says she did.”
“Ron’s not lying, either,” Dr. Huber said. “We’ve been friends for more than half our lives, I can assure you I’ve never known him to tell a deliberate lie. It’s just not in his nature. If anything, he’s too honest, sometimes.” He smirked.
Jennings frowned at him.
“So,” I said, “according to Carl and Dr. Huber, both Ashley and Dr. Jennings are telling the truth. How can that be? The only way, it seems, is if there is a third option, something we haven’t considered yet. Such as...what if the person Dr. Jennings saw coming from the guest bungalows wasn’t Ashley at all, but someone who looked like her from a distance?”
My eyes found Leonie as I said it. She paled and shook her head. “I didn’t go to Carl’s bungalow that night.”
“That’s right she didn’t,” Carl said, staring earnestly at Ashley. “Who do you guys take me for, Timothy?”
“Carl!” Ashley lightly slapped him on the forearm. “Respect, remember?”
He frowned. “Not when I’m being accused of cheating.”
“Then how come you didn’t say anything before, when everyone thought you were hooking up with Leonie?” Susan asked, looking peeved.
He shrugged. “I figured, if Mom thought I was dating Leonie she wouldn’t suspect I was with Ashley.” He turned to Ashley. “But I’m glad everything’s out in the open now. It’s better this way.”
Ashley nodded, smiling. Jennifer frowned at them.
Susan stared at me, triumphant. “So, there. Your guess is wrong. Leonie wasn’t with Carl that night.”