Death of the Party (24 page)

Nick hesitated, then opened his arms. She huddled against him, her head on his shoulder. He looked down, his expression uncertain, anguish clear in the set of his mouth, the hunch of his shoulders.

After a shocked gasp, Kim pulled a notebook from a pocket, began to write.

Isabel came to her feet. “Someone shot Everett? When?” Her lustrous dark hair framed a face stiff with shock.

“At ten-thirty,” Annie answered. “Max and Britt and
I were on our way to his cabin. We heard a shot. We ran and”—she managed to keep her voice steady but remembered horror was in her eyes—“found Everett. He was lying on the living room floor of his cabin. He was dead. We didn't find the gun.”

“Did you see anyone?” Craig looked at her, then shook his head as if realizing the answer.

“No one.” Annie shivered. If they had reached the cabin and seen the murderer…How many bullets were in that gun?

Kim pushed up from the small gilt chair. She glared at Annie. “Cat tie your tongue this morning? You didn't bother to mention a little matter of murder when I told you I saw Dana at the lagoon and she'd obviously thrown something heavy into the water.” Kim glanced at her shocked audience. “That's right, sweet little Miss Dana, mama of the year.” She paused, rummaged in another pocket, lifted out her digital camera. “FYI, I always use the optional setting to display time and date.” She pushed a button, watched the liquid crystal display, her face absorbed and intent. “There she is. Eleven-oh-three. Dana at the lagoon. She'd just thrown something into the water that made a big splash. Come on, we've got to see if we can find it.”

Craig held up his hand. “If the gun's in the bottom of the lagoon, it can stay there a little longer. We'll hope it's there. It's ugly enough without thinking someone on the island has a gun.”

“Someone has a gun. Maybe two guns.” Max's tone was grim. “I brought a gun to the island. It was in our room. Somebody stole it this morning. Just as some
one stole Jeremiah's gun from the library last night. More than likely, Jeremiah's gun was used to shoot Everett.”

“God, two guns.” Gerald folded his lanky arms. “I'd say you messed up big-time, Darling. If you were fool enough to bring a gun to the island, you should have kept it on you.”

Annie's eyes flashed. “He brought the gun in case we figured out who killed Jeremiah. There was no way to know Everett was going to be shot this morning.”

Millicent twisted to look wildly around the room. Her reflection in the ormolu framed mirror was a flash of jerky movement. “Everett shot…We're trapped on this hideous island with a murderer.” Frantic with fear, she glared at Britt, spat out the words. “Are you satisfied now? Do you see what you've done? You brought us here knowing someone killed Jeremiah. Now none of us are safe. What are we going to do?” She didn't wait for an answer. Crimson nails gripped her husband's arm. “Nick, I'm sorry. I wish to God you'd stayed home. If only I hadn't asked you to come. Oh God, Nick, I love you.” Her cry, naked and vulnerable, pierced the stricken silence.

Nick McRae's haughty, supercilious face softened. His lips quivered. “It's all right, Millie. We'll be all right. I'll take care of you.” He took her hand, drew her close, pressed his cheek against her head. It might have been absurd, the wail of love from an unfaithful wife, the protestation of protection from her elderly husband. It wasn't. There was a passion of caring, however imperfect, in her cry and in his declaration.

Max observed them thoughtfully. What would either be willing to do to maintain their relationship? Lie? That was a given. Steal? He didn't doubt it. Murder?

“Everybody loves a lover, but let's cut to the chase.” Kim's voice was tight and clipped. Her sharp blue eyes swept the room. “Where was everybody at ten-thirty?” Once again she scanned the shots in her camera. “Here it is. At 10:28
A.M
., I took a picture of the interior of Harry Lyle's cabin, a close-up of the dusty square where a trunk once stood.” She glanced at Craig, her expression challenging. “Readers will love speculating about the contents of that missing trunk. Thank God I've got hustle. The time's here for all to see.”

Max strolled to her, held out his hand. He looked at the display. The time was just as Kim claimed.

Craig strode toward them. He glanced at the camera. “Okay, fine. Kim's in the clear. And”—he nodded at Max—“you and your wife and Britt are alibied. All right, is there anyone else who can prove where they were at ten-thirty?”

Lucinda snapped, “I was cleaning up cabins. Where were you?”

Everyone looked at Craig.

He shrugged. “I'd finished the report. I decided to take a walk on the beach. I didn't see anyone else.”

Isabel looked at Craig forlornly. “I was looking for you. When I didn't find you, I went back to my cabin.” She glanced at Annie. “You were gone. Then I went up to the house. I didn't find Craig there, so I went down to the dock.”

Millicent's eyes were haunted. She smoothed back
a golden strand of hair. “I…” She looked toward her husband. “Nick and I went for a stroll.”

“Nice day for it. All that sunshine.” Kim's tone was dry.

Nick patted his wife's shoulder. “I don't think that's when we were out.” His voice was tired. “I'd gone for a walk. I'm afraid I was alone at ten-thirty.”

Millicent flushed. “I saw you. In the garden. I'm sure it was around ten-thirty.”

Gerald was the last to speak. “I wasn't paying any attention to the time. I took the path to the main trail, then angled up to Everett's cabin.”

Abruptly the room was quiet.

Gerald spoke briskly. “It must have been soon after ten-thirty when I got there. I found Max”—he jerked his head toward him—“standing guard over the corpse.”

Craig nodded. “That accounts for everyone but Jay and Dana. They were likely together. Dana's never far from Jay.” His face furrowed with worry. “We need to find them. They don't know what's happened. We know there's at least one gun on the loose. We need to warn them—”

“Warn them!” Millicent's voice quivered. “That's crazy. Why aren't they here? I'll tell you why. Your brother shot that odious man. And his wife got rid of the gun. They're the ones we need to be afraid of. Everett must have known something that proved Jay strung that wire on the stairs.” Her hand tightened on her husband's arm. “We're not stepping a foot out of this house until Jay's found and locked up.”

Craig ignored her. He jabbed a hand toward Britt.

“Do you have a bullhorn? Something we can use to call for Jay and Dana? Or a tape recorder? I can make a tape and turn the volume up all the way. Isn't there a tape recorder in the library?”

“Tape recorder?” Britt concentrated, her face pulled into a frown. Then she nodded. “I think it's in the cupboard nearest the file cabinet.”

Craig looked toward Gerald. “Get it.”

Gerald looked glad to be occupied. He moved fast toward the hall.

Craig looked around the drawing room. “We'll grid the island, search in parties of two.”

Isabel crossed the room, her face determined. “I'll go with you, Craig.”

He looked down at her and slowly he smiled, his frown replaced by tenderness. “Thanks, honey. But I don't have an alibi.”

Her lips trembled. “I don't either. But I know you're innocent.”

His fingers brushed her cheek. “I want you to go with Annie.”

“No.” Isabel gave a firm, decided head shake. “I'm going with you.”

Hurried footsteps sounded in the central hall. Gerald looked anxious as he came into the drawing room. “I didn't see a tape recorder anywhere. Not in any of the cabinets. Or shelves.”

“I'll find it,” Britt said impatiently. She dashed into the hall.

Gerald turned and followed her. “I looked where you said…”

Max lifted a hand. “Wait a minute, Craig. What are you suggesting?”

Craig stood with his shoulders forward, legs apart. “We're going to search the island. It won't take long. We have to find Jay and Dana.”

Lucinda moved heavily toward Craig, her plump face set in a stubborn frown. “I don't plan to go outside as long as people are running around with guns. Anyway, everybody's got to eat. I've got the platters ready—”

Britt and Gerald returned. Gerald held a ship's bell mounted on a walnut base.

Britt looked puzzled. “I couldn't find the tape recorder. We can use the bell.” She pointed to a side table. Gerald eased it down. Britt pulled the cord. The deep clang reverberated in the room.

Millicent covered her ears.

Kim gave a hoot of laughter. “Ring the bell till the cows come home? For God's sake, why would Jay or Dana come if they heard a bell rung?”

“It's easier than trying to call out for them.” Gerald said. “And everybody knows a ringing bell's a signal.”

Craig squinted at the bell. “It's better than nothing. I'll carry it.” He walked to the table, picked it up.

Isabel clapped her hands together. “Gerald's right. They'll know something's happened if they hear the bell clanging.”

Kim looked sardonic. “We aren't playing all's-out-come-in-free. People who run away usually have some
thing to hide.” She lifted the camera, took a picture of Craig. “That's a great shot. The bell has a high shine.”

Craig scowled at her.

Kim's smile challenged him. “Remember the Addison motto: All the News, All the Time.”

Lucinda looked toward Britt. “I don't hunt for murderers. I'm a cook. If it's all the same to you, I'll be getting back to my kitchen. If people are wanting to eat, I've got most everything out on the buffet. I'll get the rest of it now.”

Britt gestured toward the dining room. “Lunch is ready. Let's eat before we search. After all, everyone is here except Jay and Dana.”

The implication was clear. Either the murderer was among them, which meant Jay and Dana were safe for the moment…

Or Jay and Dana had no reason for fear.

T
HE WIND PICKED UP
, sending a fine mist from the tumbling waterfall. Britt pulled a scarf from her pocket, slipped it over her head. The breeze stirred Craig's thick blond curls, ruffled Max's hair. Kim buttoned her sweater. Isabel flipped an end of her plaid shawl over one shoulder. Gerald rubbed chilled hands together, his hooded eyes focused on Craig.

Annie stepped back a few feet from the fountain and wished she'd taken time to retrieve her windbreaker from the cleaning cart. She hadn't given the jacket a thought when she and Britt trundled back to the house before lunch, intent upon telling Max about Dana and the splash at the lagoon.

Annie wrapped her arms across her front. The gloom that had permeated their rushed lunch still clung to the chilled and grim group gathered around Craig Addison. They were all here except for Lucinda and the McRaes. Millicent had threatened hysterics when Nick offered to join the search. So he had stayed at the house, soothing Millicent and carrying dishes to the kitchen for Lucinda.

The small band of searchers huddled together, listening to Craig. Every face was wary, eyes darkened by fear. Heavy gray clouds hung low. The wind rattled the palmettos and the waxy leaves of the magnolias.
Craig spoke loudly to be heard above the ever present murmur of the cascading water in the fountain. Beyond lay the woods. The path to the left led to the lagoon, where a gun might be settled in the bottom muck. The path to the right plunged into the woods and ultimately led to the cabins. The garden stretched behind them in winter dullness except for brilliant patches of pansies, purple and gold, yellow and white. Their brightness was cheerless as splotches of makeup on the cheeks of an old woman.

“…that way everyone is paired with someone who could not have killed Everett.” Craig cradled the bell under one arm.

“Oh goody.” Kim's carrying voice was sarcastic. “Just me and a possible murderer. Do we get to pick our companion in crime?” Her gaze raked the group. “Me, I'm not stirring a foot with anyone but Isabel. If she's a killer, I'll re-enroll in Psych 101.”

Isabel stood straight and tall. “I'm going with Craig.”

Gerald gave a bark of cold laughter. “Anybody voting for me?”

Annie wondered if he realized he looked the part of First Murderer better than anyone, with his hooded eyes, saturnine face, and bitter mouth.

Britt clapped her hands above the discordant voices. “Wait a minute! Hold up, everybody. Let's stay together. We can cover the island in less than an hour. I don't see any need to hurry. There's no reason to think anything's happened to either Dana or Jay. With”—she counted—“seven of us we can spread out and be sure we don't miss anything. That way, no one has to be concerned about their safety.”

Kim didn't mind stating the obvious. “Unless somebody starts taking potshots at us with one of the missing guns.”

Craig made an impatient movement. The bell under his arm gave a muffled clang. “That implies Jay or Dana has a gun.”

Kim's gaze was defiant. “Somebody has at least one. Maybe there's a gun in the lagoon. Maybe not. If not, there are two guns somewhere on the island. That makes the rest of us sitting ducks. I don't like the odds.”

Max shot her a quick glance. “Unless you know something that will lead to the murderer, you should be perfectly safe. Everett threatened somebody. That's why his report was taken. That's why he was shot.”

There was a general murmur.

Still shivering, Annie stepped forward. “That's why the murderer took all the information we'd gathered as well as Max's gun this morning. So, if anyone knows anything about how Jeremiah died or who shot Everett, now's the time to speak up.”

Palmetto fronds rattled. A flying V of mallards honked overhead. Pines soughed in the wind.

No one spoke. Each face was shuttered as a closed and barricaded house.

“All right then.” Max turned toward Britt. “It's your island. Where should we start?”

 

Annie occasionally lagged behind the group to jog in place. The exercise pumped her blood, warming her. By the time they'd backtracked through the garden to check the secluded harbor and the shed bereft of the
ham radio—Annie looked longingly at the table and the ripped-out wires—and the employee cabins, she was no longer chilled. Craig kept up a steady peal from the bell, a dirgelike sound that thrummed at Annie's nerves.

There was little conversation, though Kim kept up a running commentary as she shot pictures. “…I can see a spin-off exploring how many people slide through life under assumed names like Harry. Hundreds of people disappear every year. Nobody ever sees them again. How many of them pick up new identities?” She was the last one out of Harry's cabin, banging the door behind her, a lonely final sound.

At the lagoon, Kim pointed toward the middle. “…right about there's where something landed.”

Craig rang the bell again and again.

Annie once again felt icy. The lagoon appeared dark and somber and cold, a fitting resting place for a weapon of death.

The bell clanged.

Kim looked eagerly at Britt. “Have you got a rowboat and some rakes? If nobody else is game, I'll give it a try…”

“Not now.” Craig was impatient. “Whatever's there can wait until we find Jay and Dana. Come on, everybody.” He gestured and they followed. Craig walked fast and still the bell tolled.

Kim was the only one talking when they once again reached the fountain and curved around it to enter the woods. But Kim fell silent when the seven reached the center of the forest path where narrow trails angled off to each cabin. Though it was midafternoon, the winter
sun had slipped below the treetops. The light was dim and the faces in shadow.

“Which way, Craig?” Gerald looked uneasy.

Kim tapped the top of the arrow pointing to Cabin 3. “That's where he is? Everett?” She still held her camera, but she made no move to go up the trail.

Gerald's smile was cruel. “Where's our intrepid reporter? Are you going to miss a photo op?”

“Jay and Dana might be there.” Britt's breath was uneven. “No one would look for them in Everett's cabin.”

Craig was angry. “That's absurd. If they are in a cabin, they'll be in their own. They aren't hiding from us.” He lifted the bell, pulled the cord, and the clapper clanged against the rim,
whang, whang, whang,
the deep ring loud enough to hurt Annie's ears.

There was a crackle of sound in the forest. High and frantic, a woman's voice cried out, “Who's there?”

Dana burst into the clearing. She'd come from the path that twisted out of sight toward the beach. The damp air had frizzed her hair into fine coils. Despite the roundness of her face, she looked gaunt, eyes huge, cheek muscles slack, mouth trembling. Smudges marked her face. Pieces of vegetation were snagged on her white sweater. Dirt streaked her yellow wool slacks. Mud clumped thickly on her boaters. She stopped, looked swiftly around the clearing, and began to cry.

Isabel darted to Dana, took her hands. “What's happened to you?”

Sobbing, Dana struggled to speak. Her voice was hoarse. “I heard the bell. I couldn't imagine what it meant but when I came and saw a crowd, I thought maybe Jay was with you. But he isn't.” It was a wail. “Oh, Isabel, I can't find Jay. I can't find him anywhere. I've been all over the island, looked everywhere. I've called and called. I'm so frightened.”

“Here.” Isabel pulled a packet of tissues from her pocket, handed it to Dana. “Use these and take a deep breath. We'll help you look for Jay.” Her voice was low and kind and soothing. “When did you last see him?”

Craig looked at his sister-in-law, his face grim.

Annie felt certain he feared Dana's answer.

Dana scrubbed at her face, gulped air. She seemed unaware of the intensity of her listeners. “This morning at the lagoon.”

Britt supplied the time. “It must have been just after nine-thirty. Jay ran away.”

“Has anyone seen him since?” Craig asked.

No one spoke. Quick glances flickered around the dusky clearing. Jay had been somewhere in the forest, no one knew where, when the gunshot sounded at ten-thirty.

Dana ignored Britt. Words tumbled out. “He was upset. He ran away. I tried to follow him but he was so much faster and then I was in the forest and I couldn't hear him anywhere. I don't know how long I searched. I went up and down the trails. Finally I went back to our cabin. I thought he'd come there.” She shuddered, then spoke fast. “Oh, Isabel, I should never have let
him come back to the island, but I didn't know he'd find out about his mother and…” She trailed off, slid a hesitant glance toward Craig.

Britt spoke out, her voice harsh. “All right. Go ahead and tell them. Everyone will blame me if he's gone off the rails. But maybe it's time he grew up, realized his mother wasn't the saint he thought she was. Maybe it's time he understood that Jeremiah, to give the devil his due, had plenty of reason to kick Lorraine out.”

Craig strode toward her, scowling. “What are you talking about?”

Isabel called out, “Craig…” Her face held knowledge and sadness.

Annie understood. No matter what Isabel had known or how she'd known about Lorraine and her lover, this was not something she would tell her husband.

Britt stood her ground, eyes flashing, hands on her hips. “Did you know Jay wrote me, asking for your mother's correspondence and all of her things? I boxed up everything and sent it to him. Later I did some sprucing up. The carpenter found a slip of paper that she'd tucked behind a baseboard in her bedroom. I recognized her handwriting. She'd written directions to a hiding place. It wasn't up to me to dig up what she'd hidden.” Her tone was defensive. “I'd promised Jay he could have everything. So I wrote him about that piece of paper. Then when he found the letters, he didn't want them.”

“Letters?” Craig looked at Isabel and Dana.

Dana brushed back a tangle of frizzed hair. “I've got them.” Her voice was dull. “Jay ran away. I haven't
seen him since we found them. But he knew when he looked at the first one.”

Craig's stare demanded an answer.

Dana pressed shaking hands to her cheeks. She stood mute, her face stricken.

Craig swung toward Isabel. “Tell me.”

Isabel was suddenly angry. She looked at Britt. “You caused this. You tell him.”

“A love affair.” Britt's tone was brittle. “Your mother and Todd Fairlee. You remember him? The artist. She'd saved his letters to her, buried them beneath a brick near the sundial. She ran off to Savannah with him. That's why your father divorced her.”

Shock grooved deep lines around Craig's mouth.

Isabel stepped close, took one big hand in hers.

Gerald cleared his throat. His weary face looked sad. “Let it go, Craig.”

If Craig heard, he made no sign. He looked somberly at Dana. “You haven't seen Jay since then?” Craig's voice was uninflected, but his eyes were worried.

Annie figured the hours since that moment near the sundial. It had been a long time. Time enough for Everett to die. Time enough for a gun to be stolen. Time enough for Dana to throw something into the lagoon.

Tears trickled down Dana's cheeks. “I've looked everywhere.”

Kim moved closer, her camera once again raised. “You didn't spend all your time searching, did you? I saw you at the lagoon around eleven-thirty. You threw something into the water. It must have been heavy the way it splashed, heavy as a gun.” The camera clicked.

Kim lowered it. “Did you know the gun used to shoot Everett is missing?”

Dana took one step back, two. “Everett…” Panic squeezed her features. “Everett's dead?”

Kim flung out her question. “Didn't you know? I think you did. Tell us about the gun, Dana. Where did it come from? Did it have a smell, like firecrackers?”

Dana's head jerked up. “I don't know what you're talking about.” Abruptly, she whirled, fled toward the trail leading to Cabin 4.

Kim took another step after her, her expression keen as a hound's sighting a tiring fox.

Craig's voice was steely. “Leave her alone.”

Kim hesitated, shrugged, stopped. She started to speak, looked at Craig and remained silent. Her expression, suspicious, accusing, determined, spoke for her.

“I'll take care of Dana.” Isabel moved swiftly toward the trail.

“Everybody else go back to the house.” Craig was brusque. “I'll see about Jay. I may know where he's gone.” Craig thrust the bell at Max, strode toward the seaside path.

Max moved quickly. He handed the bell to Gerald. “I'll go after Craig. In case he needs help. Tell everyone to stay together at the house until we get back.” He looked toward Annie, a look that urged caution, then hurried after Craig.

Annie watched him disappear into the dimness and hated the hollow feeling that engulfed her.
Oh, Max, be careful, watch out, don't trust anyone….

Kim stared at the trail. She took an impatient breath, glared at Britt. “It isn't
his
island.”

Britt's lips curled in a wry smile. “I know. But maybe we should leave Craig to deal with this. They were boys here. Craig may know someplace Jay could have gone.”

Gerald was definite. “Craig can handle Jay. Now I suggest we go up to the house as Craig instructed.”

“Do as you please. Not me.” Kim whirled toward Britt. “We need to know where we stand. If you've got a rowboat, let's search the lagoon.”

 

Max followed Craig's progress from the crackle and snap ahead of him. Craig was moving fast, breaking twigs, popping acorns, but the noise of his progress was less and less distinct. Max broke into a slow jog. He reached a fork and hesitated, head bent to listen. He wasn't sure but he thought Craig had turned to the northeast.