Island of Last Resorts Page 7

  Nate slurped the last of his cold coffee. ‘Two discrepancies stand out in the official report of the Frazier murder-homicide. First of all, the officers arriving on the scene reported no signs of forced entry, not at the windows or at the doors. Yet Frazier insisted he set the alarm before going upstairs. So either the assailants knew the code, which is unlikely in the case of the Fallons, or Frazier was mistaken about arming the security system.’

  ‘Even if he forgot to arm the system, he still would’ve had to leave a door or window unlocked,’ Michael observed. ‘That doesn’t sound like our illustrious host.’

  Nate nodded. ‘I agree. Sanborn’s report states “one or more perps entered the residence without force.” Sanborn’s report describes the crime as a “random neighborhood break-in” and that “assailants had been unaware that the residents were home.”’

  ‘That guy sure made up his mind in a hurry.’ Michael stacked his sheets into a pile.

  ‘I agree. There’s absolutely no indication that this break-in was part of a larger conspiracy or paid for by a third party.’

  Nicki popped to attention. ‘Frazier said he would come back to that part of the story, but he never did.’

  ‘That’s right. In the meantime, let’s make sure we learn what we can from this case file. We’ll switch piles and go over everything again.’

  Nicki picked up each sheet they discarded to read. Within the hour, Nate pressed the button on the chair.

  Jonah Creery stuck his head into the dining room. ‘Need more coffee, Mr Price, or bottled water?’ he asked.

  ‘No, thanks. What we need is to interview the detective, Charles Sanborn. We’ve got plenty of unanswered questions based on this case file.’

  A grin spread across the assistant’s face. ‘And so you shall. I’ll have the detective join the entire team at dinner tonight. In the meantime, a guard will escort you to your rooms. You can rest until the other team returns. Then Mr Frazier and I will see everyone back here at eight o’clock.’

  Creery was soon replaced by several armed guards who marched the three back to their rooms. Not one of them uttered a single word, even though Nicki did her best to stimulate conversation.

  When Beth left with her teammates after breakfast, she hadn’t expected to be escorted by armed guards. ‘What’s going on, Mr Frazier?’ she asked. ‘Is this your private militia? I thought you brought the Price team here to solve a cold-case murder.’

  ‘Exactly right, Mrs Preston, I don’t know whom to trust since I have all five suspects on the island.’ Frazier gestured toward the guards. ‘These men are well-paid mercenaries – hired guns, if you will. You and your co-workers are here to find my wife’s killer. Then you will return home well-compensated for your time and trouble.’ His lips drew into a thin line. ‘But I know you were trained as a Natchez police detective, despite having left the force in disgrace. So I want to make sure you and the others don’t try to leave the island before your job is done.’

  Beth blinked. ‘You’ve done your research on our backgrounds. But wouldn’t our ability to research help us solve this case?’

  ‘You’ll be provided every tool necessary to succeed, including the internet, should I deem it necessary. Right now, you’ll be escorted to your quarters to change into appropriate clothing. Then you’ll be released outdoors to search for suspects. Don’t forget your pens and tablets.’

  Frazier nodded and re-entered the dining room, leaving the team captain with plenty of questions.

  ‘Follow me, Mrs Preston,’ said one guard. ‘Mrs Price, Mr Galen, if you would be kind enough to follow your respective guards.’

  ‘Team two, we’ll reconvene outdoors as soon as possible. Follow each instruction as given.’ Then Beth followed a rather nasty-looking guard to her room, feeling like a total idiot. Really? This creep would shoot me if I didn’t follow orders? But, for the moment, the man with a very real assault weapon was hard to argue with.

  Beth followed him to the room she’d shared with Michael last night. The guard unlocked her door and motioned her inside. Once in her room she pulled out her cell phone, punched in 9-1-1, and received an immediate recorded message saying her call could not be completed as dialed. Next she tried the landline that the host had promised would be working this morning. That proved to be as worthless as her cell and her windows remained nailed shut. So, pursuing her only available option, Beth changed into warm sweats, a thick sweater and hiking boots. Yet when she tried the door, it wouldn’t budge.

  ‘Hey, I can’t get out of here,’ she shouted and beat her fist against the thick wood panel.

  The heavy door swung open. ‘No need to cause a ruckus, Mrs Preston. We’re right here,’ said the sweet voice of one of her two armed guards.

  ‘Now there’s two of you to watch little ole me?’ she drawled.

  ‘Mr Frazier seems to think you’re a force to reckon with,’ said the second guard. ‘But I’ve dealt with women like you my whole life. Bring on your best.’ Then he called Beth a name her mother wouldn’t approve of.

  ‘Hey, no need to get vulgar. I just wanted to tell you my door was stuck.’

  While one guard scowled, the other nudged her down the hallway toward the stairs. After a circuitous route through several hallways, the guard pushed Beth out a door at the back of the house. She landed in a heap at the bottom of the steps.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Hunter hauled her unceremoniously to her feet.

  ‘What took you so long?’ Izzy brushed dirt and dead leaves off Beth’s clothes. ‘We were starting to worry about you.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she muttered, yanking down her sweatshirt. ‘I tried to get an outside phone line, that’s all.’

  Izzy glanced left and right. ‘At least it doesn’t look like any guards are out here.’

  ‘Good.’ Hunter’s face held a tight, unreadable expression. ‘So what’s the plan, team leader?’

  Beth knew they had few options. ‘We’ll scout the island to see exactly what we’re up against and if there’s a way off this rock, like a boat somewhere. Maybe we’ll find a caretaker’s cottage with a landline that Frazier forgot about. At the very least, if we find a beach we’ll write “send help” in the sand for a low-flying aircraft to see.’

  Hunter tilted his head back to study the windows on the second and third floors. ‘Our host might be a madman, but Frazier has put serious thought into his game. I doubt he would leave a sailboat hidden in the weeds or easy access to a phone.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’ Beth pulled up her hood as a light rain began to fall.

  Hunter frowned. ‘I hate leaving Nicki here in the company of trained mercenaries. Maybe we should find another way in and try to free team one from the dining room.’

  Beth arched up on tiptoes to get face-to-face with Hunter. ‘Nicki isn’t alone. Nate and Michael are with her, and they would die before letting one of those creeps touch her.’

  But Hunter wouldn’t back down. ‘So all three end up dead while we’re hiking the trails, looking for one of Frazier’s stupid suspects to question.’

  Isabelle wedged herself in between them. ‘Hey, we’re a team, remember? We have no reason to believe Frazier means to harm us. Let’s just play along with his game. The sooner we solve his mystery, the sooner he’ll let us leave. Agreed?’ Izzy looked from one to the other.

  ‘Agreed. Sorry, Beth,’ Hunter added.

  ‘No problem. I’ll take the lead. Hunter, you bring up the rear. Izzy, you keep your eyes peeled for clues along the way.’

  Thus, the threesome set out across the lawn toward a stable that looked much better from far than up close. The old horse barn was so deteriorated that Beth feared the floorboards might not hold their weight. Following a twenty-minute perusal of every cobwebby nook and cranny, their team discovered only a rotted harness, moldy straw, and one dead mouse. After they left the stable, they spotted a path into the woods beyond the pasture. For the next hour, the team members swatted black flies, tripped over
hidden roots, and got scratched by every type of thorn and bramble. Beth suffered a gash on her cheek from a low branch; Hunter tore his cashmere sweater, and Izzy limped from her new fashionable boots.

  ‘Those are not hiking boots, Izzy,’ said Beth, stating the obvious.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting Survivor Elysian,’ Izzy shot back.

  ‘Shhh, both of you,’ said Hunter. ‘Do you hear that?’

  ‘Hear what?’ Beth swatted a buzzing insect by her ear.

  ‘The sound of waves hitting a shore.’ Hunter passed them both up on the path and didn’t stop running until he reached a wide-open expanse of sand, sea, and clear blue sky. ‘It’s the beach!’

  Beth caught up to Hunter first. ‘At least we’re out of the jungle!’

  ‘Can you see St Simons Island?’ asked Izzy, panting like a dog.

  Beth shielded her eyes to study the horizon. ‘Nope, nothing but water for as far as the eye can see.’

  Hunter wiped sweat from his face and neck. ‘If my sense of direction is any good, we’ve reached the opposite side of the island from St Simons.’

  ‘Who will see writing in the sand way out here?’ wailed Izzy.

  ‘Maybe no one, but I’m writing a message anyway.’ Beth picked up a piece of driftwood. ‘Then we’ll search the beach in that direction – south, judging by the sun’s position. We’ll look for clues, along with a better path through the woods to the house.’

  Surprisingly, no one argued with her. Izzy plopped down on a log to rest, while Hunter found her a better writing stick and searched the dunes for anything out of place. Once Beth had etched her message as deeply in the windswept sand as she could, she led her teammates down the beach. She and Hunter took turns plodding through the sawgrass where the deeper sand tired their legs.

  Izzy, less accustomed to exercise, kept to the hard-packed beach at water’s edge, hoping to flag down a passing boat. ‘Oh, no,’ Izzy moaned. ‘What’s that up ahead?’

  Looking in the direction of Izzy’s finger, Beth tasted stomach acid surge into her mouth. During her years on the Natchez police force, she’d seen her share of dead bodies. She broke into a run, shouting over her shoulder, ‘Wait here, you two.’

  Of course, neither listened. Hunter almost beat her to the body and Izzy arrived close on his heels. ‘Oh, my goodness, is that—’

  Hunter finished Izzy’s sentence. ‘Suspect number one, I presume.’

  ‘Reuben Fallon, Mack’s accomplice at the murder of Mrs Frazier.’ Beth dropped her voice to a whisper, more out of respect for Ariana Frazier than the recently deceased. Since Reuben’s eyes were still open and his hand had frozen in an outstretched pose, no one bothered to check for a pulse.

  ‘Look.’ Izzy pointed at a piece of metal, partially buried in the sand. ‘Is that the …’

  Beth completed her sentence. ‘The wrench that Mr Frazier had in the dining room last night. Looks like it was used to kill Reuben.’

  ‘If that really is Reuben Fallon.’ Hunter apparently decided to be the voice of reason. ‘And that wrench may or may not be the actual murder weapon used eight years ago.’

  ‘True,’ Beth agreed. ‘But one thing is clear – Mr Frazier’s ploy to have us solve Ariana’s cold case is no longer a parlor game. Whoever that man is, he’s dead. And we need to get back to the house.’

  Without warning, Jonah Creery, Mr Frazier’s assistant, stepped out from behind the dunes. And he wasn’t alone. Several armed guards were with him. ‘Well done, ace detectives on team two. You have not only found clue number one, you’ve eliminated a suspect. And yes, that miscreant indeed is Reuben Fallon.’

  ‘What’s wrong with you people? Frazier can’t go around killing people like this!’ Beth rushed toward Creery, but Hunter’s grip on her arm stopped her progress.

  ‘Well done, Galen. I’d hate to see the fireball, Mrs Preston, accidentally shot so early in the game.’ Creery glared down his long nose.

  ‘I want to go back to Mr Frazier’s house,’ Izzy whimpered.

  ‘Of course, Mrs Price. Your host has no animosity toward you, only those culpable in his wife’s death.’

  Beth fought against Hunter’s restraining arms. ‘Frazier has his other killer now. He should let the rest of us go home.’

  Flanked by his protectors, Creery glared down his nose at Beth. ‘Allow me to rephrase. Mr Frazier also wishes to hold responsible those who withheld evidence from the police. After that, you’ll be free to return to your mundane, mediocre lives.’ Creery turned on his heel and strode down the beach. ‘Accompany members of team two back to their rooms. Make sure no one goes astray. Shoot anyone who wanders off.’ After a few steps, Creery looked back at them. ‘If your team members manage to return, you’ll be reunited with your spouses at dinner. And you’re in luck – I believe there’ll be a standing rib roast tonight.’

  As Creery headed down the beach, they plodded along slowly behind him. Beth came to the frightening realization that Mr Frazier wasn’t the only madman on the island.

  FIVE

  Charleston, Sunday p.m.

  With a feeling of supreme satisfaction on many levels, Kate pushed back from the table. Sunday dinner with the Manfredis never failed to boost her spirits. The quirky, highly opinionated, and often boisterous group of people had welcomed her almost from the day she moved upstairs. Having lived alone for so long, Kate had been overwhelmed and offended by the family’s intrusiveness. But that’s just how the Manfredis showed their love – by sticking their noses into each other’s business. Everything was fair game, including her and Eric’s fledgling relationship.

  Kate locked gazes with the patriarch, a man she helped free from jail by tracking down the true killer. ‘Thank you, Mr Manfredi. That was the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted.’

  Her declaration created a minor uproar since everyone at the table took cooking seriously, including Eric, who pressed a palm to his chest and feigned a heart attack.

  With a raised hand, the patriarch commanded silence. ‘Then you should eat more, young lady. That’s how Italians show appreciation. And why do you keep calling me Mister? Alfonzo is the name my mother gave me, or you could call me Papa.’

  Kate squeezed Nonni’s hand. ‘Someday, when you least expect it, I’ll call you Alfonzo. It just won’t be today. And if I ate another bite I would explode.’ She placed both hands on her midsection.

  Alfonzo wagged a finger in her direction. ‘Son, that woman knows her mind. You’re in for a run for your money. I’m glad my wife only knows how to say “yes, dear” and “no, dear.”’

  With an undignified snort, Irena smacked her husband’s arm. ‘Don’t say things like that. People might think you’re serious.’

  ‘No one in this kitchen will.’ Eric winked at Kate across the table as she pushed to her feet.

  ‘Since Eric and I didn’t lift a finger for this meal, why don’t we clean up while everyone relaxes in the front room?’ The rambling stone structure, reminiscent of Tuscan farmhouses, had once been the Manfredi home, and the family maintained a private room off the foyer for watching Sunday football or sipping espresso by the fire.

  ‘Nothing doing,’ cried Bernadette. ‘You two are supposed to be on a company retreat. You’re only here because I wasn’t paying attention in a dark parking lot.’ Bernadette grabbed hold of her daughter’s arm with one hand and her husband’s arm with the other. ‘The Conrads have kitchen duty today and I will supervise. If you leave now, you should be able to get to St Simons by seven.’

  ‘Mom’s right,’ said Danielle. ‘You’re supposed to be on a romantic getaway.’

  Kate laughed. ‘You think talking shop with your boss and the rest of your co-workers will be romantic?’

  ‘Everything is what you make it.’ The seventeen-year-old wiggled her brows comically.

  Eric pulled Kate toward the back staircase. ‘If you’re sure you and Mike can handle Bella for another five days, then I intend to give romance my best shot.’

  Alfonzo scow
led. ‘What’s the matter with you, Enrique? Your mother and I were managing this trattoria while you were still eating Spaghetti-o’s out of a can.’

  As the family howled with laughter, Eric and Kate ran upstairs for their luggage. Three hours later, they exited I-95 onto Highway 17, a scenic two-lane road that crossed countless creeks and rivers, ran along tidal flats and great expanses of salt marsh, and offered a few glimpses of the mighty Atlantic Ocean.

  ‘Have you ever visited Georgia’s Golden Isles before?’ Kate asked, switching off the radio. ‘I read that slogan on a billboard.’

  ‘Hmm, let’s see.’ Eric joined the queue turning left onto the F. J. Torras Causeway to St Simons. ‘We went camping at Jekyll Island State Park when Bernie and I were kids. And once I went to Sea Island with my dad to visit his friend. If I remember correctly, we drove through St Simons to get to Sea Island, but I don’t remember more than that.’

  She pivoted to face him. ‘Hopefully you and I will make plenty of memories on this trip.’

  ‘Count on it, baby.’ Eric’s leer was downright obscene.

  As they reached the island, Eric had to drive around a rotary three times before Kate punched the address into GPS. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I should’ve done that before now. Now we’re really going to be late.’

  ‘Not to worry – at least we won’t get lost.’

  But being late or getting lost was the least of their problems.

  When they reached the location of Nate’s retreat, no lights were on and no one answered their knock at the door.

  Eric stepped back to check the second floor. ‘There are no lights on anywhere. Could you possibly have the wrong weekend or maybe copied the address incorrectly?’