Rigged for Murder (Windjammer Mystery Series) (18 page)

“Brie’s at a crossroads in her life. She needs to decide whether to hold her course or come about and try a different tack.”

“Spoken like a true sea captain,” Garrett said, his hostility mounting. “You’re such an authority on what Brie needs—how long have you known her?” he asked.

John was silent. He wasn’t about to admit that he’d known her for only five days.

“Hmmm, my detective skills are telling me it’s probably less than a month. Right?”

“Your detective skills be damned. Brie doesn’t need you or me to make up her mind for her. Time will do that nicely, and she’s made a wise choice to give herself plenty of that.” This conversation was escalating into all-out war, and John decided to call for a cease fire. “Look, Garrett, Brie should be back in a few minutes and I’ll have her call you. All right?”

“Fine, and don’t forget—I have some information that may help her.”

John hung up the phone and walked over to the big window behind the desk. The conversation had brought the strength of his feelings for Brie into sharp focus, and he was forced to look at them. At 39, he had known his share of women, but none of them had held the fascination that Brie did for him. She was smart, pretty, and she had character too. He decided to face the possibility that he might be falling in love with her.

What was more—Garrett’s pontificating aside—he was going to try his darnedest to keep her in Maine a while longer so things might have a chance to develop between them. He planned to ask her if she’d take Pete’s job and stay aboard the
Maine Wind
for the summer. After all, she had been a sailor. She had the necessary physical strength, and what she didn’t know, he’d teach her. He knew Will would want the job now, but Will was just too negative and arrogant, and there’d already been enough crew problems for this season.

John headed back to the game room, where George had just set down a steaming bowl of buttered popcorn and a large pot of hot cocoa. In spite of the circumstances, George was doing his best to pamper the passengers and raise their spirits a bit. It seemed to be working—there was actually some joking about putting on an aerobics video to work off the popcorn after they were done.

The sound of a pickup truck drew John to the window. Glenn was just pulling up in front of the inn. John headed for the front door to meet him.

“Glenn, this is a surprise. What’s up?”

“I would have called, but the phone lines were down on the other side of the island, and I thought it was important enough to drive over here.”

“Let’s go into the living room where we’ll have some privacy,” John said. At that moment they heard the back door of the inn open and close. “Let’s make that the kitchen, Glenn. I think that’s Brie just coming back in.”

They found her in the kitchen, ruddy cheeked, shaking the water off her raincoat. “Any sign of Tim?” John asked.

“I found him, but he wanted another fifteen minutes by himself, and there was no way of forcing the issue.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell John about the gun. It made her look like the bumbling detective—definitely not her M.O. until now. “Glenn, what brings you back to the inn?” she asked, walking over to the coffee and pouring herself a mug.

“I was telling John the phone lines are down, and Betty remembered something I thought might be important. She was convinced that there was something familiar about Pete’s name, and she finally remembered. She’s pretty sure he worked for a lobster fisherman here on the island a few years ago. She thinks it was Jack Trudeau.”

“Is this Jack Trudeau still on the island?” Brie asked.

“Yup. Keeps his boat down in the cove when he’s not out working his traps.”

“I’m going down there and see if I can find him,” Brie said. “Do you know if he lives in the village, Glenn?”

“His is one of the last houses at the far end of town. Ask anyone down there—they’ll direct you. You might try his boat first, though.”

“Will do.” She took a large swig of her coffee to fortify herself against the cold wind and headed over to collect her coat and rubber loafers. She walked with John and Glenn to the front door.

“John, if Tim’s not back within ten minutes, send Scott after him. Okay?” She put on her coat and shoes, and was just turning the knob when John remembered Garrett’s call and told her about it.

“Maybe you should call him before you leave. He seemed eager to talk to you—said he had some information.” John refrained from telling her what a snit Garrett was in about her leaving the inn alone.

“I’ve been waiting for his call. I’d better take care of it now.” She took her coat and shoes back off. But before heading to the library, she walked back over to Glenn and gave his forearm an affectionate squeeze. “Thanks for bringing me the information, Glenn.”

As she padded down the hall, Glenn turned to John. “I have to go,” he said placing a hand on John’s shoulder. “I promised Betty I’d get right back.” They walked out onto the porch together, and after the door was closed Glenn said, “You know, John, I really like that girl—she’s got something special.”

“I know,” John said wistfully. “Me too.”

In the library, Brie picked up the receiver and punched in Garrett’s number. He answered on the second ring. “Homicide division—Parker speaking.”

“Garrett—it’s Brie. John said you called.”

“Brie! What are you doing traipsing around that island by yourself with a killer on the loose?”

“Take it easy, Gare. There’s this thing called an off-duty gun—I carry it just in case.” As she spoke she unclipped the empty holster from her waist and put it in the top drawer with her fanny pack.

“Well, just be careful—okay? By the way, it sounds like the captain is falling for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Gare, we’ve only known each other for five days.”

“Five days,” Garrett guffawed. “Wow, I way overestimated.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I told him he’d probably known you less than a month. But five days—that’s rich.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Gare. I’ve dealt with killers—I think I can handle one sea captain.”

“Well, just be careful where you’re handling him, Brie. That guy’s in love with you, and you need to make a break for it or you’ll end up chained to the stove in his galley.”

“Oh, really! And you want me back at the department to make coffee. So who’s the bigger chauvinist?”

“You’re a city girl, Brie. Come home where you belong.” Garrett sounded ticked off now.

“So, did you call just to give advice to the lovelorn, or have you come up with something useful?”

“I ran a thorough check on all the names you gave me and came up with nothing but a few traffic violations, until I got to Will Thackeray.”

“What did you find on him?” she asked.

“He’s from a small town—Pawcatuck, Connecticut—now there’s a mouthful. There was an incident when Thackeray was a senior in high school. Even though no formal charges were filed, the sheriff remembered the case well. Apparently Will Thackeray threatened the life of a fellow student after losing a wrestling match to him during the state championships that year. The parents of the threatened student put a lot of pressure on the high school to expel Will. The school finally agreed to let him graduate with the condition that he undergo a psychological profile.”

“Did you get the results of the profile?” Brie asked.

“The report stated that parts of the test were inconclusive; still, the diagnosis read possible borderline schizophrenia.”

“Wow! Anything else?”

“I called the high school and found out where Will attended college. The college had no record of any incidents involving Thackeray, but, interestingly, he was never involved in sports during his four years there. Apparently he stuck strictly to academics. Graduated magna cum laude. I hope it’s some help.”

Brie’s mind had inadvertently wandered back to the “captain’s in love with you” statement.

“Brie? You there?”

“I’m here,” she said, trying to refocus. “You can be the judge, Gare. We’ve got a situation here where the murdered man beat Will out for a summer job aboard the windjammer that I’m sailing on—a job Will desperately wanted.”

“Interesting. What’s your gut telling you?”

“He’s arrogant, and I believe emotionally unstable. From what you’ve told me, he could be dangerous. Listen, Gare, I’ve gotta go. There’s another lead I have to follow up on. Thanks a lot for your help.”

“Be careful, Brie, and come home.”

“Talk to you soon, Gare.” She hung up. She thought about his concern and decided it bordered on jealousy. That didn’t make any sense, though. She and Garrett had known each other for almost four years, and they were good friends but no more. Obviously there was something he
didn’t
know about her, and that was the more he pushed one way, the more she’d push the other. The one thing she’d managed to keep from being sucked into the whirlpool of emotional chaos was her independence. She often felt it was her only lifeline to her former self, so she clung to it like a drowning victim, believing she might yet pull herself to safety.

Brie headed back toward the front door and donned her coat and shoes. John stepped into the hall to talk to her before she left, and he noted the quizzical look she gave him. No doubt Garrett had felt compelled to shoot off his big mouth about their heated conversation. Without commenting, he opened the front door and they stepped out onto the porch.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Brie said, heading for the steps.

John started to follow her, but then stopped himself. She seemed in a rush to get away from him, and before he could speak she was off the porch, moving across the lawn toward the road. He watched her go. Long ribbons of blonde hair escaped her hood, blowing out behind her in the strong wind. His throat felt tight—crammed full of words he longed to speak but didn’t know how.

O
NCE ON THE ROAD, brie moved at a swift pace to counteract the chill wind. The exercise felt good. Her muscles were still warm from the hike up to the bluffs, and as she walked, her fingers began to tingle, indicating her heart was pumping at a good rate.

Her list of questions was growing longer with each interview. The walk down to the village would give her time to sort things out. She thought about her encounter with Tim up on the cliff. By catching him off guard, she’d gotten a glimpse of a part of him he kept well hidden. Something tormented him. What was it? And did it relate to the murder?

Then there was the information Garrett had turned up about Will and the psychological profile. It confirmed her feeling that Will was unstable. He was also physically capable of killing Pete. He had a wrestling background, and while his motive didn’t seem strong enough, maybe coupled with his emotional instability, it was. And now, the news that Pete may have worked on the island. Another interesting twist. Funny he hadn’t mentioned living on the island when Tim talked about the hiking trails last night.

Brie quickened her pace, which had started to lag as she mulled over the case. She was surprised at how good the routine of conducting the investigation felt. The process of sifting through facts and motives had a comfortable familiarity, like a well-broken-in pair of shoes.
Maybe I’m ready to go home
, she thought.
But then again, this is different from back home. There I’m just a cog in a big city homicide division.
She realized she enjoyed directing this investigation. Perhaps she’d like working for a police department in a smaller community, or maybe even as a private investigator.

“City girl.
Not
. I may have always lived in a big city, but there’s a part of me that would leave that life in an instant,” she said to the trees that lined the gravel road. Stress, noise, crime, traffic. She wasn’t like some of her friends in the department who thrived on the night life of the city. She liked to find her adventure in the great outdoors, not in a down-town bar. In her day to day routine, curling up in her pajamas with a good book and a glass of wine was more her style. She’d always been driven when it came to her job, but that was more a product of her own self-expectations than love of any particular work environment. Which raised another issue she’d been struggling with.