03 - Three Odd Balls (6 page)

The entourage of cops had finally left, and my mother had been moved to Misty Breezes bungalow, where I hoped she was sound asleep. Chris and Louise, whether asleep or not, were also back in their bungalows. All of us had been ordered not to leave the island. Conveniently, we had no plans to do so.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

Wilson put his arm around me and rocked me back and forth. “We enjoy the sunrise, right? And then we sleep in late, and then we go about our vacation as planned. How’s that sound?”

It sounded good. But I wondered out loud if we could do it.

“We have to,” Wilson said. “Vega told me point blank he doesn’t want my help.”

“I don’t believe Captain Vega likes you very much, Captain Rye.”

“And he doesn’t like how we—how I—handled things before he got here.”

“What?” I protested. “We did a great job.”

“Vega’s not happy you guys got me involved before anyone called 911.”

“But you’re a cop!” I said. “Of course we got your help.”

Wilson caught my eye. “Vega’s not convinced I was asleep when Chris came to get me, Jessie. He suspects I was awake and prowling around the grounds.”

“Well then, he should have asked me. You were sound asleep when I snuck out.”

“Vega’s not buying it. Especially since my stupid kid put those last drinks on my bar tab. I tried telling him Chris always sticks me with the bill. He’s a college kid, for God’s sake.”

“And Vega’s arguing that point?” I asked.

“Yep. No one can confirm it was Chris, not me, who ordered those last drinks. The entire staff had gone home by then.”

I asked about Buster, but apparently he was already upstairs in his apartment by two a.m., and apparently that presented another problem. According to Vega, Wilson never should have gotten Buster involved.

“He didn’t need to be guarding the parking lot so no one would leave,” Wilson explained. “No one was still here.”

“But you didn’t know that,” I argued. “How could you have known that?”

“Take a guess where the stabbing occurred.”

I recollected all the cops combing the parking lot and muttered a four-letter word.

Wilson nodded. “Yep,” he said. “With all the blood, they’re sure it happened in the parking lot.”

“Did they find the weapon? I assume it was a knife?”

“No weapon yet. But Vega let it slip that the knife likely came from the kitchen. One’s missing from the knife block.”

I pictured the layout of The Big House. Anyone could have had access to the kitchen from the dining room that night.

“Everyone and his brother had access to the kitchen.” Wilson read my mind. “And the murderer must be thrilled I sent Buster out to the parking lot. He did a lot of pacing back and forth while he was up there. His footprints were all over the bloodstains.”

I shook my head. “Thus destroying any footprints the murderer himself might have left.”

“Vega threatened to arrest me for tampering with the crime scene.”

“Come on! He can’t really believe that? You were trying to do the exact opposite.”

Wilson thanked me for my loyalty but suggested I try to think like Vega. “It looks like I sent Buster up there purposely to destroy evidence,” he said.

“Oh, my Lord, Wilson. Are you actually a suspect?”

“Me or Chris.” He took a few deep breaths. “You know about his shirt?”

I closed my eyes and prayed for strength. “You mean the one he wasn’t wearing?” I asked. “The one drying in my mother’s bathroom?”

“Evidence. Vega’s claiming Chris and Tessie washed it out to get rid of blood stains.”

“What!? So now my mother’s a suspect?”

“You and I know it’s absurd. But Vega’s working on the assumption of some sinister conspiracy between us.”

I muttered that four-letter word again, and we watched a few waves roll in.

“Okay, so does the brilliant Captain Vega have a motive for this sinister conspiracy?” I asked. “I mean, what possible reason could you, Chris, and my mother—my mother!—possibly have to kill Davy Atwell? We just met the guy, for Lord’s sake.”

“Bingo.” Wilson grinned and squeezed my shoulder. “Vega can try to twist the circumstantial evidence any way he wants. But he’ll be hard-pressed to stick a motive on it.”

“So we can relax?” I was far from convinced.

“Let’s take a lesson from Tessie and Chris. They’re not worried.”

“Mother does seem to be taking it in her stride,” I said. “I think it helped that Chris was with her.”

“And it will help if we carry on as normal, right?”

I sighed and leaned forward to scratch a picture of the sun in the sand. Wilson twirled his finger under my sun and added a few waves. Then we looked up from our artwork and watched the real sun rise over the Pacific.

“Chris wants to hike Kekipi Crater with me later today,” he said. “Ironic, but Davy gave me lots of advice on trails. Come with us?”

I scowled. “Surely you jest?”

“Let me guess—too many bugs.”

“I do not like the heebie jeebies,” I clarified. “And trust me, Wilson. Anytime I have ever been stupid enough to venture out into the wilderness, I’ve been heebie-jeebied beyond endurance. Bugs!” I said with a dramatic shudder.

He chuckled and added what I think was supposed to be a palm tree to our beach scene in the sand.

“You go tackle the volcano,” I told him. “Meanwhile, I’ll be lounging by the pool and tackling a few scenes from
My South Pacific Paramour
. Mother wants to help me, which will be an excellent way to keep our minds off of what’s happened.”

“And we’ll let Captain Vega tackle the murder, right?” In the growing light I couldn’t help but notice the stern cop-like look Wilson was directing at me. “Right, Jessie?”

“Right,” I said and crossed my fingers behind my back.

Chapter 6

Eleanor Touchette watched skeptically as her niece donned her first pair of trousers ever. Delta was bound and determined to wander out into the wilderness, but the dear girl seemed far less certain about those breeches. She wiggled and wobbled, and pulled and pried, unsure of how to get the things onto her curvaceous frame. She persevered, however, and eventually managed to maneuver the pants over her hips and into place. As she buttoned her fly—something else Delta had never before done—she assured her Auntie Eleanor that she did not believe in monsters, and was not afraid of the jungle either.

When reminded she had never actually been in a jungle, Delta stood her ground and insisted she would get to the bottom of the silly rumors that were causing her beloved Auntie and the inhabitants of Ebony Island such distress. She gathered the machete and canteen she had acquired from a villager the day before and announced she was “Ready.”

Eleanor looked pointedly at the canteen, and Delta conceded that perhaps she was not quite prepared. She began struggling with the cap while the older woman continued to marvel. Her favorite niece certainly was a comely young lady—even more lovely than Marcus had implied in his letters. Indeed, in his most recent missive, Eleanor’s brother had intimated that several wealthy and titled gentlemen were vying for his daughter’s hand in marriage. But that, of course, was back in England. Stuffy Old England, as Delta had been insisting ever since her unexpected arrival at Emerald Estate two days earlier.

Eleanor stepped forward and demonstrated how the canteen cap operated. She filled the vessel from the water pitcher on the dressing table, and as she handed it back to her niece, she gently enquired about those would-be suitors.

Delta shook her head impatiently and insisted she had better plans for her life than to marry some dreary duke or dismal lord. She would see the world, or at least a goodly part of it, before settling down to the mundane existence her parents were forever touting. Demonstrating her resolve, she brandished her machete and promptly sliced the curtain hanging beside her in half.

Auntie Eleanor glanced askance at the damage, and with no further ado, escorted her niece outdoors and to the edge of the estate. She reminded her that dinner would be served at seven, pointed her in the direction of the deepest jungles, and waved encouragingly as Delta disappeared into a grove of pandanus trees.

Brave and plucky, our heroine set off with the utmost confidence, and maintained a swift and steady pace until faced with a rather daunting thicket of some such brambles she had never seen in England. She pursed her lips and glanced at the machete in her right hand. How exactly did one use the contraption?

The winds picked up while she pondered the dilemma, and Delta turned her sapphire blue eyes upward. Some rather large somethings swooped around in the branches high above her head. The somethings were striped and had tails. Inordinately long tails. She jumped when a bird—at least she hoped it was a bird—screeched in the distance. Reminding herself that she did not believe in monsters, Delta assumed a firm grip on her machete and started hacking.

***

“Jessie, honey, jump in here and help me,” Mother said, and I looked up from my laptop. She and Louise were in the pool, where my mother was trying to teach my agent how to swim.

“I need help, Jessica!” Louise agreed. “And Tessie needs a break.”

“And I can’t wait to read what you have so far.” Mother climbed out of the pool and took my computer from me.

I pointed to the screen and explained how I had delved into
My South Pacific Paramour
right in the middle of the story. “Delta Touchette has already arrived at Auntie Eleanor’s estate,” I said. “I’ll go back some other time and fill in the details of her thrilling journey from dreary old England to Ebony Island.”

“Don’t forget her first encounter with Skylar Staggs,” Louise reminded me.

“Or their first sex scene,” Mother said. “Sex, sex, sex!”

“Sex, sex, sex!” Bee Bee repeated, and the Hoochie Coochie Brothers hit yet another sour note.

Indeed, Louise’s swimming lesson had attracted quite a bit of attention at the Wakilulani Gardens. The parrot was coaching her progress from his perch near the shallow end of the pool. And perched a few yards uphill, on the porch of Song of the Sea bungalow, the Hoochie Coochie Brothers had also been offering encouragement—serenading us with a medley of old-timey tunes. Leaving the yellow rose of Texas behind, they headed to Louisiana. Susanna may not have been crying for them, but I do believe the rest of us were contemplating that option.

Mother tilted her head. “Don’t you need a banjo for that one?” she asked.

I mumbled something about how a modicum of talent would also help and dived into the pool. I did some demonstrating and ended up in the shallow end with my arms under Louise’s stomach while she tried again.

“I cannot believe I’m forty-three and still can’t swim,” she said as she paddled and kicked, paddled and kicked. “Anytime I try, I end up choking on water.”

“That’s because you’re always talking,” I said. “Shut up and swim.”

“Easy for you to say.”

I glanced up at my mother. “She can’t drive either. Probably because she’s lived in Manhattan her entire life.”

“Born and bred! I love, love, love New Yor—” Louise choked on a mouthful of water and went under.

I lifted her up, and Mother reminded her to keep her mouth closed. “We could teach you how to do that, too.”

“How to shut up?” Louise said. “I doubt it, Tessie.”

Mother giggled. “No, silly. How to drive.”

When Hawaii freezes over, I thought to myself. My mother has many talents, but trust me, driving is not one of them. I suggested we leave the driving lessons for another vacation.

“You’re probably right,” Mother agreed. “We won’t have time, will we? What with Chris teaching us to surf and such.”

I let go of Louise. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t you remember, Jessie? He promised. We have our first lesson once he and Wilson get back from their hike.”

I blinked twice, but had no time to react otherwise because Louise had actually made it to the opposite end of the pool. Needless to say, the crowd went wild. Bee Bee let out a cat call, the Hoochie Coochies played a few bars of “We Are The Champions,” and Mother and I clapped. Louise waved to her adoring fans. But she quickly thought better of it and grabbed onto the edge with both hands.

“That was good!” I said. “Now swim back to me.”

“Do I get a pink drink if I do?” she asked, and everyone frowned simultaneously at the bartenderless tiki bar.

“I suppose we shouldn’t drink until after our surfing lesson.” Mother sighed forlornly and went back to reading my book. “Delta is about to get herself lost, isn’t she, Jessie?”

“About to?” I said as Louise managed one more lap.

She reached the shallow end, announced she could not survive another minute without talking, and climbed out. She gabbed away with my mother while I did a few laps myself.

“We have a name for your villain,” Mother informed me when I climbed out of the pool. “Urquit Snodgrass. What do you think?”

“Urquit!” Bee Bee screeched. He swept over and landed on Louise’s chair. “Urquit!”

I agreed that Urquit sounded perfectly sinister and stepped under the nearby shower to rinse off. My bleached hair would end up as green as Bee Bee if I let the chlorine from the swimming pool dry too long. As I toweled off I wondered out loud how our woefully lost damsel in distress would manage to come into contact with the repulsive Mr. Snodgrass.

Tessie and Louise regaled me with a plethora of ideas until I held up my hands and reminded them I had been writing for hours. “Enough of
My South Pacific Paramour
.” I plopped into my lounge chair. “We need to talk about what happened last night instead.”

Mother resigned herself to her fate and closed my laptop. “What would you like to know, Honeybunch?”

“I want to know what you were doing in bed with Christopher Rye.” Louise winked at me. “In your nightgown, no less?”

“It wasn’t like that!” Mother insisted. “I’m old enough to be the boy’s grandmother, for Pete’s sake.”

I did the math. “Or great-grandmother.”

“We were having a chat is all,” Mother said. “Jessie and I always have our best heart-to-hearts lounging in bed together, don’t we, Jessie?”