Read Murder, She Wrote: Panning For Murder: Panning For Murder (Murder She Wrote) Online
Authors: Jessica Fletcher
Murder, She Wrote: Panning For Murder: Panning For Murder (Murder She Wrote) (23 page)
BOOK: Murder, She Wrote: Panning For Murder: Panning For Murder (Murder She Wrote)
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“Yes, the willies.”
We both laughed.
She paused to gather her thoughts before continuing. “We sat at the bar and said nothing. Bill had fallen into what I suppose you could call a mood, very quiet, somber. I decided to ask about the comment he’d made about dancing together for life.”
“Did you?”
“I did. That’s when he told me he was falling in love with me. He said he’d dated only a few women since his wife died, and none of them interested him. He’d wondered whether he’d spend the rest of his life unmarried, always searching for his soul mate. Until— until he found me.”
She started to cry, and I gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“Sorry,” she said. “Silly of me at my age.”
“Not silly at all. I take it that that’s when he asked to come back to your cabin and spend the night.”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I was flattered at what he’d said and that I’d found myself developing feelings about him, too. But we didn’t know each other. I suggested we go slow and allow things to develop naturally, at their own pace.”
“You were right,” I offered.
“I know. Still . . .”
“No second-guessing,” I said.
I was pleased, although not surprised, at how she’d handled it. On the one hand, I was delighted that Kathy had possibly found a man who loved her, and someone she could love back. On the other hand, shipboard romances were notorious for leaving one party heartbroken at the end of the cruise. I certainly didn’t want to see that happen to this very special friend of mine. They had a lot of getting to know each other to do before any commitments were made.
“Tell you what,” I said. “We have a busy day exploring Sitka. We’re ashore for only a short time. The ship sails for Ketchikan at four. And we have some leads to follow up on while we’re here. Did you bring Willie’s receipts from Sitka?”
She pulled them from the pocket of her blue windbreaker and handed them to me. I flipped through them. As in Juneau, they were mostly from stores where she’d picked up trinkets, probably to bring back home as gifts. There was also a stub from the Alaska Raptor Center, where rescued bald eagles, hawks, and owls are nursed back to health, hopefully to the extent that they can again be released into the wild. I’d learned of the organization a few years ago and started sending an annual donation to help defray the cost of operating this wonderfully worthwhile undertaking. Another slip of paper showed that Wilimena had opted for a three-hour whale-watching trip while in Sitka.
“I think we should take this whale-watching trip, too,” I suggested. “Let’s go down to the shore excursion desk and see if they have any vacancies.”
We were in luck. There were two openings on the whale-watching boat, and we signed up. A bus that would take us to the appropriate dock was scheduled to leave at nine forty-five, which didn’t allow us much time to follow up with the shops Willie had visited.
We joined Gladys for breakfast in the dining room.
“And what do you two ladies have planned for today?” she asked.
I told her about the whale-watching trip, and that we intended to visit the Raptor Center.
“Sounds like a full day,” she said. To Kathy she added, “I see that Mr. Henderson isn’t joining us this morning.”
“I guess he slept in,” Kathy said.
“You look as though you could use some extra sleep yourself,” Gladys said.
She was right. There were dark circles beneath Kathy’s eyes, and she wasn’t as erect in her chair as she usually was. “Burning the candle at both ends,” Kathy said.
“My husband and I used to do that,” said Gladys, a wistful expression crossing her face. “He had insatiable energy and loved nightclubbing. My goodness, what a swath we used to cut in Paris and New York. London, too. But that’s a young person’s game, isn’t it?”
I pictured Gladys as a beautiful young woman, exquisitely dressed and cavorting in posh nightspots around the globe with her wealthy husband, a pair of jet-setters living the high life. That vision brought a smile to my lips.
“A word of advice?” Gladys said to Kathy.
“Sure.”
“Don’t allow your candle to burn too low. It’s difficult to relight once it’s gone out.”
“I’ll remember that,” Kathy said.
After Gladys had left the table, I asked Kathy if she knew why Bill hadn’t come to breakfast. She didn’t. “In fact,” she said, “he said he’d see me here this morning.”
“Must have overslept,” I said. “Well, time for us to get moving.”
We rode the tender to the main pier and took in the main street in downtown Sitka. As in Juneau, jewelry stores prevailed, one after the other. We stopped in one that Willie had visited, but no one remembered having waited on her.
“Just as well,” I said after we left the shop and stood outside, constantly having to move to avoid knots of tourists walking three and four abreast and taking up the entire sidewalk. “Obviously, the answer to her whereabouts won’t be found in the shops she visited. Let’s find a quiet spot for coffee or tea where I can call Trooper McQuesten and Detective Flowers.”
I first reached Flowers, who reported that there was no new progress in the search for Wilimena. He did say, however, that he would be in Ketchikan when the ship arrived, and he looked forward to spending time with us.
McQuesten had said he would be in Sitka when we arrived, and so he was.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“A coffee shop on Lake Street. Highliner Coffee.”
“I know it well,” he said. “Be there in a jiffy.”
He walked through the door a few minutes later and joined us at a tiny table near two computer stations that patrons could rent by the half hour.
“How was your sail?” he asked.
“Uneventful,” I said.
“For which you were grateful, I’m sure,” he said.
I agreed with his assessment.
“Is there anything new?” Kathy asked.
“No,” he replied. “Afraid not.”
“Did you drive here overnight?” I asked.
“Drive? You can’t reach Sitka by road. Only boats and floatplanes. One of our pilots flew me in this morning. I’ll be going on to Ketchikan later today.”
“I’ve never been on a floatplane,” I said.
“Jessica has her pilot’s license,” Kathy said.
“Do you really?” McQuesten said, obviously impressed.
“It’s a bit of a joke back in Cabot Cove,” I said. “I don’t drive, don’t even have a driver’s license, but I’m licensed to fly a single-engine plane.”
“We pretty much use floatplanes for everything up here in Alaska,” he said.
“So I’ve read. Maybe I’ll have a chance to fly on one before we leave,” I said, seriously doubting that I would.
“Hopefully, we’ll find an answer to your sister’s disappearance in Ketchikan,” he told Kathy. “Retracing her steps on the cruise was a good idea, but Ketchikan is where she was last seen. I have a feeling that we’ll do better once we’re there.”
“Are you working the case?” I asked. “I thought Detective Flowers was, and that you were only offering a hand as a friend. At least that’s what Mort Metzger told me.”
“That’s the way it was,” he answered, “but things have changed. The gentleman who was following you ends up very cold and dead in Glacier Bay, and Maurice Quarlé is a murder victim. There’s now more to this case than just Ms. Copeland’s disappearance. Flowers is still following up on the missing-person aspect. I’ve been assigned to investigate those deaths.”
“I never thought Wilimena’s disappearance would end up being linked to murder,” I said.
“No one did,” McQuesten said.
“Have you time for coffee?” I asked.
“Sorry, no, but thanks for the offer. I’m due at a meeting.”
As we stood on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, he asked, “What’s on your agenda today?”
“Whale watching,” Kathy replied, “and a visit to the Raptor Center.”
“Wish I could join you. They say the whales are plentiful this year, even orcas. Orcas don’t usually show up for another couple of weeks.”
“Wilimena took this same whale-watching excursion and went to the Raptor Center when she was in Sitka,” I said.
He smiled. “Knowing your reputation, Mrs. Fletcher, I was sure you had more on your mind than simply playing tourist. Well, good luck. Hope you see plenty of whales. See you in Ketchikan.”
We joined dozens of other passengers waiting for the bus to take us to where the whale-watching boat would depart. The expectation level was high. So often, going on a whale watch can be disappointing. You can spend hours on a boat and never see one of the magnificent creatures. In any case, Kathy and I had dressed appropriately: sneakers, jeans, sweaters and rain slickers, hats, gloves, and an extra sweater in case it was needed. Everyone else in the group was dressed similarly.
A large, modern bus pulled onto the pier, and we boarded. The ride to the embarkation point took longer than I had anticipated, considering Sitka’s relatively small size. As Alaska’s fourth-largest city, it has a permanent population of under nine thousand. But there are many who say it is Alaska’s most beautiful seaport, rich with natural scenery, including lush and stately spruce forests that stretch all the way to the water’s edge.
We pulled up next to a substantial-looking modern vessel. A young man and woman directed the boarding, and Kathy and I found seats at the front of a spacious enclosed center section. There was also a sizable deck at the stern, from which we could indulge our desire to see whales and other wildlife—provided there were any to be seen. A narrow deck that ran along either side of the enclosed space also provided vantage points, although I wasn’t sure I would want to be on it if the weather got rough.
We received a safety briefing from the captain over the PA, including an admonition to be especially careful when on the slippery decks. He also suggested that if we saw someone fall overboard, we should yell for help and keep our eye on the person in the water. He assured us that when the vessel approached wildlife, he would maneuver it to give us an optimal view and asked that if we were on the deck we move slowly and quietly to avoid startling the animals. He further asked that we close doors gently and speak in a low tone of voice. Flash attachments on cameras were to be turned off or covered with a tiny piece of tape that one of the crew members would supply. He ended his welcome by pointing out that there were snacks and soft drinks for sale and that a naturalist was on board to keep us informed over the PA of any sightings.
We were soon under way, slowly moving from the calm waters of the small harbor and picking up speed as we reached the open sea. It wasn’t long before we began to enjoy the purpose of the trip. We passed a rocky formation on which hundreds of stellar sea lions lolled, rolling on their backs, splashing down into the water, and in general putting on a show for us. At one point, the captain brought the ship close to a shoreline as the naturalist pointed out a huge eagle’s nest atop a clump of tall evergreens. “That nest,” she said, “has been there for years. Eagles mate for life and return to the same nesting areas year after year. That particular nest, as you can see, is more than six feet across. Eagles build the largest nests in North America. They lay one to three eggs per year, and their hatchlings mature very quickly, just in time to feed on the salmon runs that occur late each summer. Interestingly enough, female eagles are larger than male eagles. We have approximately fifteen thousand bald eagles living in south-eastern Alaska. We are really blessed to have so many of these magnificent creatures to enjoy.”
BOOK: Murder, She Wrote: Panning For Murder: Panning For Murder (Murder She Wrote)
7.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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