Island Intrigue (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

“Why if it isn't Miss Sabrina,” Lima said as she climbed the steps and sat in the rocking chair beside him. She was glad to sit down. The hike through the swamp this morning had worn her out.

“Hello Lima.” Sabrina nodded at the several other people gathered on the porch. They stared at her, but soon ignored her presence and turned back to the subject of murder.

“It warse the pirate, I'm tellin' you,” one emaciated gent proclaimed in an accent so thick Sabrina could barely follow him. “Sure as a devil's blow on Mitchell's Day, old Walk-the-Plank was walkin' the marsh like he does every night and came upon poor Rolo and tore him limb from limb. Didn't have no chance.”

There were sounds of enthusiastic agreement, and Sabrina herself had to repress a chill as something (it was hard to distinguish amusement from terror in this instance) rolled up her spine. Someone had put a stop payment on the town's reality check, it was clear.

“Somehow I doubt he'dve taken apart a Wrightly,” Lima drawled, his eyes glinting.

“Lima, you don't know everything under the god-derned sun, despite what you may think!” The old gent stood up and stomped down the steps.

“Well, Ralphie, if you weren't so stupid you needed to take your clothes off to count to twenty-one, maybe you'd see my point of view,” Lima called after the retreating man. “I feel that it's my imperative to set people straight when they are so misguided that they're making fools of themselves. I happen to know for a fact that Rolo came into a whole bucket of money and he came back here to face the music, so to speak, and set his ma up for life. He's been wandering America all these years, with no family, and not a care in the world.”

It was all Sabrina could do not to say something, but she really didn't feel it was her place. She did her duty this morning after Thierry left her on the beach. She went straight to the police station (well, she had stopped for a few minutes and changed her muddy clothes and tried to wash the worst of the black swamp mud off her face and hands) and told the eager young man in uniform, Billy, about the treasure tree. By the end of her tale, she was feeling foolish and half-convinced that Thierry had made the whole thing up and paraded her all over the swamp to some random tree. She wouldn't put it past Thierry.

“Can you take me there now?” Billy asked, already standing up and eagerly pulling at his gun belt.

“Oh no.” Sabrina backed away from the desk. “I'm not going back in the swamp. Thierry is perfectly capable of taking you to the tree. Ask him.” She made her escape before Billy could try to talk her into going back. She would be happy if she never went back to that creepy place, crawling with slithery snakes and buzzing bugs.

Lima and the others had continued with their discussion of Rolo's murder, and she tuned back in as Lima said, “Well, Mr. Bradford Tittletott, great nephew of mine or not, he's got a bit of explaining to do, let me tell you.”

Conversation stopped, and everyone turned inquiring eyes on Lima, just as he intended.

“What do you mean, Lima?” The screen door slammed behind Stacey Tubbs as she came out of the store.

“Weeell,” Lima said, settling back in his chair. “Of course you've heard the police done searched the Tittletott House.” Lima paused and everybody leaned forward. “Well, I just heard that they found a gun in Brad's room! It came straight out of old CQ Tittletott's gun closet. Brad says he has no idea how it got into his closet. But he used to be a prize marksman, the only one in the family CQ managed to teach to shoot. Well, that's suspicious enough, but when the police asked everyone in that house where they were the day of the murder, Brad said he was out at Lighthouse Beach. The police talked to Jean Teasley, who runs the gift shop out by the light house, and you know she sees everyone who goes past her shop out onto that beach, and she says the only people she saw were a couple tourists shell hunting early in the morning and Miss Sabrina here in the afternoon. She never saw Brad. The police go back to Brad and he clams up, won't say a word. So where was he while Rolo was being stabbed to death?” Lima leaned back in satisfaction.

Stacey disappeared back into the store with a bang of the screen door, and everyone sat for a few minutes, contemplating what Lima said.

“Have they arrested him yet?” Sabrina asked. It did look pretty bad for Brad.

“Nah, not yet. Apparently, Brad's got some kind of bad stomach flu. He can barely get out of bed, much less answer questions. I think it's only a matter of time, though.”

“What I want to know is how anybody knew Rolo was on the island,” said a woman in a pink dress decorated with tiny red rosebuds. “How did the killer know to send Rolo a note through Nettie? I sure as heck didn't know he was on the island, and I'm related to the Wrightlys through my mother's sister.”

Talk ebbed and flowed around Sabrina as she considered the woman's question. Why hadn't she thought about it like that? The killer knew Rolo was on the island. So who knew Rolo was on the island?

She could think of several people. Nettie, of course. Elizabeth and Gary knew, judging from the conversation she had overheard at the tea party. Brad knew, because Rolo contacted him. How about Thierry? Had he known Rolo was on the island?

At the moment, considering the gun, his motive and lack of alibi, Brad seemed a likely suspect for the role of killer. And from the talk around her, it sounded as if most of the town was beginning to agree with her. Several people had noticed the way he acted at the rally, trembling and white-faced—did he just come from killing Rolo? Of course, Sabrina knew something that the others didn't. Brad was nervous because he changed his speech and was going to reveal…what? What was he going to say in the speech that made Elizabeth Tittletott so angry?

Brad would know where the treasure tree was. He knew Rolo was in town. He lied about being at Lighthouse Beach. Brad wanted to stop Rolo from revealing a damaging secret about the Tittletotts. Everything pointed to Brad.

But something didn't feel right. If Brad was planning to kill Rolo, why did he change his speech with the intention of revealing something about the Tittletotts that made Elizabeth livid with rage? That didn't make sense.

“I wouldn't be surprised to find out Lady E was responsible for offing Rolo,” somebody said. “She always hated him, hated that Brad was friends with a Wrightly.”

Hmmm. Sabrina thought about that. Elizabeth and Gary knew Rolo was in town. Either one of them could have sent the note to Rolo, taken the gun from the cabinet and ambushed Rolo in the rose garden. And then what? Planted the gun in Brad's closet? Elizabeth would never do that. What about Gary? For that matter, what about Virginia? Sabrina didn't know if Virginia knew Rolo was in town or not—she said not—but why did she lie to Sabrina about the treasure tree?

Even more puzzling was the question of why Lora Wrightly was interested in the rat pack the week before her death. Did the crayon pictures have something to do with this whole business?

Sabrina stood up so fast the rocking chair thumped on the wooden porch. People turned to her in surprise.

“I uh—thanks for the seat, Lima!” Sabrina hurried down the steps, not even conscious of the avid hush she had created.

“Anytime, Miss Sabrina!” Lima called, never at a loss for words.

“Looks like she got a wahoo up her shorts,” someone muttered at her retreating back.

“Methinks,” Lima said, “that there goes a woman who knows more than she's saying.”

“You never know,” said Stormy Lowry, who was famous for her oyster pies and her discerning eye. “Maybe she's the one who killed Rolo.”

“Yep,” Bicycle said, and burped.

The rest of the townspeople stared thoughtfully after the blond stranger.

***

Sabrina was feeling a sense of urgency. She wasn't sure why, but she felt she was missing something and she needed to find out what. Fast.

Or what? She asked herself. A man was already dead. What else could happen?

She wasn't sure, but she couldn't calm the anxious feeling in her stomach.

It had turned into a dim, overcast day, gray clouds marbling the sky, the light heavy and monotonous. The Tittletott House rose above her like some medieval gothic castle in the soggy light. Without pausing to think, Sabrina hurried up the stairs, her heart beating hurry hurry hurry.

Gary was on the phone behind the reception desk as she came through the door. As she waited for him to finish his conversation she wandered into the dining room. Missy had seen her coming and had her table ready, complete with a glass of ice tea.

Sabrina's stomach grumbled, and she saw when she glanced at her watch that it was close to two. Maybe she would eat.

“Thanks, Missy,” Sabrina said, sinking into the padded wood chair Missy held out for her. Today, Missy's shirt said, “I don't suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it.”

“Gary's not cooking today,” Missy said. “The special is a fried shrimp sandwich.”

“Sounds good. Do you know if Brad's here? I wanted to talk to him about contributing some money to his campaign.”

“I think the campaign's the last thing on his mind right now,” Missy said. “He's still real sick.”

When Missy came back with the sandwich, she reported that Brad was no where to be found. “You're not the only one looking for him,” she told Sabrina. “Coupla those mainland cops here waiting for him too. Looks pretty serious. Mrs. E's in there talking to them now.”

Sabrina nodded her thanks and took a big bite of the fragrant overstuffed sandwich. Mmmm. Not as good as Gary's cooking, but still good.

She thought about her next move, whom to talk to next. She wanted to speak with Brad, since he was the one Rolo had sought out. But Brad was unavailable, and once again Sabrina felt the sense of urgency. Who else could she talk to? Elizabeth and Gary were aware of Rolo's meeting with Brad. Did they know what Rolo wanted?

“Missy, did you notice anything strange the day of Rolo's murder?” Sabrina asked when Missy came back with the check. “You were here most of the day, right?”

“I leave around two and come back at four for the dinner shift. I went over to Nettie's to get a cake for Karel's birthday, but she had a Be-Back-in-Five-Minutes sign up, so I had to go to the fancy Lighthouse Estates grocery store to get the cake. Elizabeth and Gary were just finishing cleaning up the mess from the busted the water heater when I left. When I got back, Elizabeth was being a bear. She must have missed her daily nap, or she was just upset about the water heater, but she was in stellar form, let me tell you.”

Sabrina finished up her sandwich, paid, and went back out into the lobby.

A soap opera was playing, judging from the big-hairdooed woman wearing an evening dress in the middle of the day, and the buff, tanned Adonis fawning over her.

“Airport Ecstasy!” Sabrina said in sonorous tones, as if she had just walked into a church and seen all twelve disciples doing a conga line though the aisles.

“You watch Airport Ecstasy?” Gary tore his eyes away from the show and looked at Sabrina in astonishment.

“I always try to schedule my planning hour between two and three so I can watch it. I've my watching it for thirteen years, ever since it started,” Sabrina said. “I actually remember when Vansola was a man—and a Mexican! Now look at her!” Sabrina glanced around. “I don't usually tell people that I'm a soap fiend. People look at you funny, if they don't watch themselves.”

“I know,” Gary said with fervor. “I usually watch the desk in the afternoons—hold on—” he picked up the ringing phone and answered a few questions about the Tittletott House “—but even though the phone is always ringing off the hook this time of the day, I usually can take in the whole show.”

“I haven't been able to watch the last couple of days—did Durham reveal to Pookie that he slept with Gordan? Or did he ask her to marry him? Or did he ask Gordan to marry him? Do tell, I'm dying to know.”

The phone rang, and Gary raised one finger and answered it. The reservation seemed to take an inordinate amount of time, and Sabrina was beginning to fidget by the time Gary had asked for the person's credit card number, its expiration date, the person's driver's license number, its expiration date, the person's mother's maiden name, her expiration date…

“Durham?” Sabrina prompted, when even after Gary hung up the phone it appeared he had forgotten about her.

“What?” Gary looked up from writing. “I'm not sure—the phone's been ringing nonstop the last couple of days.”

“I was wondering,” Sabrina said, leaning a casual arm on the counter. “Why did Rolo come and see Brad? Do you know?”

Gary's eyes widened as he looked at her in astonishment. Sabrina worried that she might have come on too strong.

“What? I don't know—”

“I heard you and your mother talking.”

“She'll kill me if I talk to you.”

“Do you always do what your mother tells you?” Sabrina asked, feeling a little mean, because she had the feeling that for the most part he did. And who was she to talk?

“Uh—no. No,” Gary said with more feeling.

“So you can tell me anything you want.”

“I guess I can.” Gary looked emboldened and confident for a moment, and then his face fell into the familiar, pinched, sallow lines. “Except I really don't know. I know he was threatening Brad, but no one ever told me what he was threatening to do.”

“But you must have an idea.”

“Well, I guess I thought it had something to do with all that business when we were kids, when Rolo stole the silver and set Edie's house on fire. What else could it be about? I'm sure Rolo was still pissed that Brad told on him.”

“But was he threatening to reveal something?” Sabrina pressed.