* * *
Since I was going to have to wait until the morning to do anything with respect to the destroyed turbine and generator, I decided that I'd spend a little time going through the photos that Luke and I'd shot at the crime scene.
The only one that was remotely helpful to me was one of Tony Moreno. Looking carefully at the contusions on his head, shoulders, and hands, I was able to guess at the basic shape of the murder weapon. A quick cross-reference to the tools that we'd identified as missing from the stable storeroom, and it sure looked like Moreno had been beaten with the manure scoop. Now, I needed to find it.
Looking out the window, I ignored the rain that was still pummeling everything in the area. My focus was on two yellow raincoats that were heading towards the south end of the island, and the beach there.
I didn't figure that they were looking for a rain-tan, but their body language struck me as if something intense was being discussed. Grabbing a set of binoculars that Luke had given me for bird watching, I tried to figure out who the two figures were.
Both were about the same height, and judging from the height of the shrubs they were near, I would put them at about 5'5". That didn't help me much. I'd have to go to plan B, whatever that was.
I headed down to the main sitting room and found it occupied by several other guests.
"Oh, look. It's Dr. Holmes," Michelle quipped to Theresa as I entered the room.
"Shelly, that'd be Mr. Holmes. It was Watson who was the doctor," Theresa responded before they both enjoyed a good laugh.
Their husbands sat, eyes glued to a television set watching some baseball game with Greg, totally ignoring them and, as far as I could tell, me. In the far other corner, Kevin, Donna, Tammy and Kim were huddled around a small table playing some kind of board game.
I watched the foursome for a few minutes. It was evident from the behavior that they were all trying to help Kim cope with what had happened, and keep her mind off the fact that nothing could be done right now.
Detouring through the dining room for a cookie, I headed towards the mudroom to gear up before sneaking out the back door.
"Where are you off to now?" Luke asked as he came in dripping.
"I think I've narrowed the murder weapon down. Thought I'd go take along the path to see if anybody might have tossed it into the brush some where along the way. I figure the killer isn't going to want it hanging around."
"If it was me," Luke stated as he hung up his coat, "I'd have thrown the bloody thing off of the cliff into the Atlantic. Less likely to find it."
"I've thought about that. With the way the wind's blowing, it'd be possible that it would have gotten hung up on the rocks before it got to the water's edge. That would pose a problem for whoever threw it. They couldn't risk going down to it, but they couldn't leave it there.
"Now, I can't count on whoever did this as being stupid, but I can sure hope for it," I said with a smile.
Luke reached out and touched my arm. "Laura. I need to thank you for stepping in on this. You're supposed to be on vacation, but you're running some weird investigation. The only positive is that the rest of the board is kind of just hanging out. Nobody's freaking out about Tony's death, because they know that you're on it."
I nodded. "Somebody should be freaking out because I'm on it. I'm going to nail this guy and nail him good."
Luke smiled. "Happy hunting, then."
-9-
Slogging through the rain, I made my way towards the maintenance shed, keeping my eyes alert for any signs that someone had done a little off-trail hiking. But nothing caught my eye.
Once at the shed, I veered away towards the eastern coast of the island. It took only minutes to walk the few hundred yards, but by the time I'd reached the coast, my legs were screaming. An interesting feature of Rim Runners', was that while the west coast was at sea level, the entire east coast was a two-hundred fifty-foot high rock cliff that dropped off into the Atlantic.
Here the view was breathtaking. Looking to sea, I could make out the variations in the clouds that defined hurricane Anna. From this distance, she didn't look all that menacing, but I tried to remember that I was standing on solid ground. As a category-3 storm, she'd be churning up the waters a few hundred miles off quite well.
I stood and looked at the turbulent gray waters swirling below me, and the rocks that jutted out from the water where the cliff met the ocean.
Wind pushed me back from the edge. Like the rain, the sixty-mile per hour wind was a leftover from the hurricane. In the inner regions of the island, the building, and the hills themselves, gave some protection from the wind. Here at the edge of the cliff, there was nothing to do that.
I pulled the binoculars from my pocket and did my best to search the immediate coast for any sign of what I suspected was the murder weapon.
Unsurprisingly, I didn't find anything. Now I had a dilemma: did I move down the coast and continue, or just head back to the house?
Closing my eyes, I tried to think of last night. What was the weather like? Which way were the winds blowing? And, what would be the logical choice of where to go if I'd just killed someone.
Getting away from the scene would be paramount, as would getting rid of the weapon. But where would you go on an island? One that was, well not swarming with others, but still had a count near twenty.
My feet started moving me north along the coast. I tried not to think about what I was doing, but rather tried to think how someone would have moved last night. I could almost see it now.
The rain obscured most of the visibility, but you could still see more than 100 yards ahead. The light was dim, with almost a rose hue to it from the interaction of the clouds and sunlight. Running back towards the house, would have increased the opportunity of being seen, so you'd run away. That would bring you to the coast and the cliffs.
"What would happen if you weren't expecting the cliffs?" I asked aloud.
The only answer that came back was from a songbird that was braving the rain.
I spun in a slow circle to take in the whole of where I was standing. The tree line was only a yard or two from where I was, and the edge of the cliff was only a few feet the other direction. "If I was running from something, I'd probably be looking over my shoulder to see if anybody is following me. Not thinking about what's ahead," I orated. "If I tripped at this range either from surprise or from a physical object, whatever I had would go sailing over the edge. Not exactly what I would have planned," I told my friendly songbird.
Twenty feet ahead, I saw an indent in the underbrush where something large had laid down. Walking up, I could see that just a foot back, an exposed root snaked up ready to snare an unsuspecting person's foot.
I pulled out my phone, and took a picture of the site as well as what appeared to be the imprint of where a hand had slammed into soft mud.
Pressing my brother's number I peered over the edge as far as I dared.
"Laura? What's up?" Luke answered.
"I may have something here. I'm on the coast, top of the cliffs. I've got an area that looks like somebody took a tumble here. I'm trying to see how I can peer over the edge to see if there is anything down there."
"You really think that you're going to find the murder weapon on the rocks?" he asked dryly.
"You never know. I can say that the wind is strong enough that it pushed me back a few steps, and the indentation of where this person went down is nearly three yards from the brink. Figure if he goes down, the scoop goes flying, it doesn't have to clear the edge by a lot, but it becomes virtually impossible to retrieve."
"Okay, okay, okay. I'll be out there in about ten. You're going to owe me for this, Laura," Luke said before the phone cut off.
I went back to studying the imprint while I was waiting. Setting my phone on a nearby tree limb I turned it to record video.
"Pacing off the external dimension
s, this indentation is just under two yards long and about," I paused while I turned and took one step. "And about a foot-and-a-half wide," I said for the record.
Bending down near the handprint, I placed my own over it. "The hand print left in the mud is larger than my hand. This would lead me to believe that the killer is most likely one of the men."
I heard the snap of a branch and turned quickly, expecting to see Luke.
"Well, what are you doing out here, Ms. Merrifield?"
"Mr. Carlson, isn't it?" I searched my memory for the name. "Yes. Mark Carlson, you're with building and grounds, correct?"
He smiled at me as he wiped rain away from his eyes. "Yes, but please, just call me Mark. Anyway, Luke radioed me and asked that I meet him out here. He said he needed help with something."
"Actually," I admitted, "I'm waiting for Luke. He's coming to help me with a project I guess you could call it."
A muted curse came from the trees. "Laura? Am I anywhere close?"
"Keep walking, Luke. I can almost see you." I shouted back.
When Luke emerged, the knees of his pants were muddy and soaked. "Couldn't you have found a better place to do this?" he asked.
"I didn't pick the spot, remember?"
"So what's the plan, Luke?" Mark asked.
"Not sure. Before we go any further, Laura, show me what we're dealing with."
I hesitated, not really wanting to show anyone that I couldn't be sure wasn't involved with Moreno's death what I'd found. But, I didn't really have much of a choice since Luke asked Mark to join him.
"As I said, I found a mark where it looks like someone went down hard," I said pointing to the ground.
"Hmmm," Luke said scratching his chin. "Not sure I'd have seen that from this. However, since I just made one very similar back a few yards, I'm going to guess that you're on the right track. Mark, we need to find a way to look over the edge of this here cliff."
"Ya'll trying to win some award for being crazy? We got a bleeding hurricane pounding the snot out of us, and ya'll want to look over the edge of a cliff?" Mark grumbled as he looked around. "I reckon that we could tie off some ropes to these trees and you could repel down a ways if you really wanted to," he said rubbing his face.
The reflection of his watch caught my attention. "Do you have any mirrors? You know, like shop mirrors that extend out a ways so you can inspect hard-to-get-at areas?" I asked.
Luke and Mark looked at me stunned.
"Well, shoot. Sure we got us a couple of them. They'd be back in the maintenance shed though. And Luke said we weren't supposed to go in there until you said it was okay, ma'am." Mark said.
"I've documented the scene already, Mark. Could you get me two of those inspection mirrors?"
Mark nodded. "I can do that. Okay, Luke?"
With Luke's agreement, he was off, and Luke and I were alone.
"So what else do you have here?" he asked.
"The evidence has given me some real good clues. Right now I think I've got it down to two suspects."
"Really? Who?" Luke demanded.
"I'm not giving names yet. I want to verify a few things."
It took Mark the better part of ten minutes to return with the inspection mirrors. "Here you go, Ms. Merrifield," he said holding them out to me.
Taking the mirrors, I lay down in the soft mud. "Hold my feet, Luke, just in case," I ordered. Extending my left hand and the mirror over the edge I looked at the reflection. "Think I just found your manure scoop, Luke," I said.
"Now what?" he asked helping me to my feet.
"I think it's time we go back to the house, and have a good old group discussion around the table."
"Are you going to arrest anybody?" Luke suddenly asked. "I mean, if you are, we're going to have to find somewhere to put them while we wait for the sheriff."
"No. I'm just going to let them stew over what I know. I'm pretty sure that when O'Brien gets the information that I'm looking for back to me, I'll be able to tie this up nice and pretty for him. So, why don't we head back? I'm in the mood for a slow roasted turkey."
-10-
I woke to an almost pleasant dawn. Looking out the window, I could see the trees still bending dangerously in the beginning daylight. It took me a moment to realize why everything looked weird. For the first time in days, there was no rain.
I turned towards the door when there was a soft rap on it.
"Laura?" Missy whispered loudly from the other side.
I sighed. So much for some alone time watching the sun come up.
I opened the door and ogled at my sister-in-law and the tray that she was carrying. "What do you think you're doing carrying all that?" I asked, taking the tray from her.
She followed me in. "We haven't had much time to just visit, you and I. I know that you're an early morning riser, so I thought that we could share a cup of tea."
"Are you allowed to have tea at this stage?" I asked motioning her to one of the desk chairs in the room.
"I've got decaffeinated for me, Earl Grey for you, as I know your preferences."
I poured out and we sat looking at each other in silence for a long moment.
"So," I said, "What happened after I left dinner last night?"
I almost thought she was going to spit up her tea as she tried to laugh with her lips tightly closed.
"You always did have impeccable timing," Missy finally said. "Well, after you let on that you had a few suspects that you were going to be turning over to Chief O'Brien tomorrow and then simply walked away, it turned into a free-for-all. Mike Carter stormed out into the rain with his trusty phone, Jim Parker was bickering with Michelle Carter about which lawyer they should call. Greg and Tammy were having their own private argument," her voice trailed off. "I wonder if they're separating."
She looked up through her eyelashes, looking slightly embarrassed. "They've had issues for years according to Beth. I know for a fact that they've been at each other since they got here. And then last night, she stormed off to their room and he requested a separate room for the duration of their stay.
"Scott Campbell sat pretty much alone at the bar, drinking heavily. To the point that Luke had to cut him off. I'm guessing that he's not going to have a nice head today.
"The rest of the group, with the exception of Kim, Kevin and Donna, were gathered around speculating on who you were going to turn over to the chief. As far as I could determine, they've got it narrowed down to Greg and Michael. Either right?" she asked quickly.
"I can't comment further on an on-going investigation," I replied. "What were Kim, Kevin and Donna doing?" When she glared at me I continued before she could say anything. "I can't remember how long Luke and Kevin have known each other. It seems that they've been causing trouble together since they were in elementary school. But I need to have a complete picture."
"I hate spying on friends," she blew out a long breath. "They went into the dining room. I only caught snippets of the conversation, as I walked between rooms for coffee or chocolates or what not. The first thing I caught from them was Kevin and Donna helping Kim pick out some things for the funeral. The next time I went through, Kim was asking if Kevin knew anybody who might be able to serve as a mentor. Apparently she and her step-kids are going to be partners in the business, but none of them have too much experience. It sounded like she was trying to get a plan together that would help them all through this."
"Sensible," I remarked, remembering my conversation with Kim the day before. "She may have been much younger than Tony, but she seems determined to make things work."
Missy nodded as she sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Yeah. That sounds about right. I haven't known her long, but from what I've seen, she's always ready and willing to learn and not afraid to get her hands a bit dirty in the process."
By the time Missy had left I was feeling energized and began to plot out my plan for the day. I
had two people that I considered suspects, and would have loved to find a way to tail both of them, but I was alone on that front.
Not totally, I realized. I could ask Luke to keep an eye on one of them, but could he do it without them knowing that he was watching? After a quick internal debate, I opted to err on the side of caution and be sure we didn't spook these two.