* * *
I awoke some time later in the dark. I could make out a small flashing red light, but nothing else.
Trying to roll over, I found my hands and feet had been tied together. Thankfully whoever had trussed me up had left my hands in front of me. My back ached so I tried to maneuver myself into a sitting position, but my shoulder hit something before I was totally erect.
My second attempt was better served, and I managed to get into a seated position, still totally unclear of where I was in the room. I needed to have use of my hands and feet before I did anything.
Slowly I slid myself towards the unseen object that I'd run into before. When my shoulder bumped it, I raised my arms together and tried to feel for an edge. It was thin and metallic. The door to the control panel, I wondered. Slowly I moved my hands until I found the front edge and began using a sawing motion to try and free my hands.
By the time the rope bindings felt slack, my muscles were aching and burning. Thankfully the rope snapped and my freed arms fell to my side.
As I waited for the ache in my arms to recede to a point that I might be able to function again, I looked around the room again, trying to remember what was here and where it had been the last time when Luke and I were here.
I spoke aloud to myself very softly in an attempt to keep myself calm. "If this is the door to the main panel, then that puts me at the back of the room, roughly centered. Therefore the door to get out should be about ten feet straight ahead and six feet to the right."
I frowned. The flashing red light was only a few feet ahead of me. I wasn't sure exactly how far ahead, but it was definitely closer than ten feet.
I started working on the knots that held my feet together while working on the rest of my plan.
"If I slide to the right until I hit the wall, I should be able to follow that up to the door. From that door, it's about ten feet straight across until I'm outside."
The ropes fell from my ankles, and I began pushing myself towards the wall.
When my hip hit the wall, I got a bit of a surprise. My phone was still in its case clipped to my waistband, which meant two things. Number one, I had access to a flashlight app so I'd be able to see where I was going, and secondly, I was probably still shooting video.
Carefully, I removed the phone from the holder, and touched the screen. Sure enough the video was still going. It took me a few tries, but I was able to turn on the little light and gasped at what I saw.
The room was as neat as a pin. All of the debris had been swept into a pile. On top of the pile sat two rectangular strips of what looked like clay. Wires ran from the substance to a small timer sitting on the very top of the pile with a red blinking light. Somewhere in the back of my mind, my subconscious realized that the two strips that looked like clay were actually something like C-4. "Silly putty with a bang," I said with the realization. "This definitely gives credence to the idea that the initial bombing of the control room was planned as a distraction. Somebody's been back to clean up the mess, and now plans to destroy the evidence of what happened here," I said as I panned the camera around the room.
I looked at the timer. Less than two minutes. Since I had no experience with explosives, this told me that I had two minutes to gather evidence and get clear.
I headed out the door, again taking only a few moments to video this room too. Everything was neatly put back into the containers and stacked along the wall. "This scene is beyond compromised," I complained.
I sprinted down to where I'd left Sonja, surprised to see her still there, nibbling on the tall grass.
"I'm sure glad to see you, girl," I said grabbing the reins and throwing myself back into the saddle. "Come on, let's head on home." I gave a slight tap with my feet, and she began to trot off towards the stables at a pretty good clip. We were about five hundred yards away when the place blew.
I pulled Sonja into the tree line, hoping to protect us from falling debris when I heard my phone ring. I glanced down at the display and saw my brother's name on the screen. Pressing the button, I answered, "Hey, Luke. I was just going to call you. You've got a real psycho around. They just blew up your turbine."
"What?" he stammered. "They blew it up? Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I lied. My head was throbbing, and I felt nauseous. "So, what's up?"
"What's up?" he nearly shouted. "What's up is that you've been missing for the past three hours. And now you tell me that somebody's just blown my wind turbine to smithereens. Where the heck are you?"
"Th-three hours? I've been out for three hours?" I closed my eyes and commanded myself to relax. "Sorry, Luke. I took a ride around the island, and stopped at the turbine to see if there were any clues there. Someone else was there as well." I didn't know what else to say. "Can you meet me at the stables? Just you. Please."
"I'll be there in five," he said before the line went dead.
"Three hours," I murmured to Sonja. "How the heck did whoever did this keep me out that long?"
She didn't know, and neither did I.
I was brushing Sonja when Luke came up from behind me, surprising me with a hug. "You okay?" he asked.
"I've got a pretty good sized knot on the back of my head from when I got coldcocked. Otherwise, I guess I'm okay."
"So, what exactly happened?"
As I finished taking care of Sonja, I filled him in. "As I see it, the video from the phone may provide enough evidence for an arrest all it's own. But for now, I don't have much on the assault. But, I think I know who killed Mr. Moreno."
"Who?" Luke wanted to know.
"I'd rather have everyone, including Chief O'Brien here when I make my findings known."
Luke thought about it for a minute. "Well, you're the boss right now. So, how do you want to play it?"
"I'm calling O'Brien before we go back to the house to make arrangements for him and a deputy to be here right after breakfast tomorrow. We'll have to have the meeting before anyone can have the chance of leaving. Might even be a good idea to have someone guard the bridge overnight.
"For that matter, I think over dinner tonight, I'll let it slip that O'Brien will be coming to talk to everyone in the morning," I added. "Shall we go have a meal with your guests?"
-12-
Ignoring threats was something I'd perfected during my tenure with the NYPD, and thankfully, I hadn't lost my aptitude for it.
"This is borderline harassment," Greg said. "We are all very busy people here, and have responsibilities that we must be allowed to get back to."
"Mr. Nelson, I do understand, but as there was a murder here this past Friday, and the authorities have not been able to come out and interview us, Chief O'Brien has made it clear that we are all to stay here until he or one of his deputies let's us go. He should be here shortly."
I'd no sooner finished speaking when the chimes at the door sounded. I looked up to the approaching voices and saw one of Luke's employees walking two men down the hall.
Standing I approached the two officers. A quick glance told me the ranks. I extended my hand to the Chief, "Welcome, O'Brien," I said.
"Thinking about changing careers, Merrifield? I don't think you'd like being a hotelier. It'd take too much time away from your writing," he said with a grin.
I led him into the main sitting room, where all of the guests, and staff along with Missy and Luke, waited.
"Okay," O'Brien began. "We received a call Friday night regarding the mysterious death of one Anthony Moreno. According to notes supplied by Ms. Merrifield, the deceased was identified by Luke Robinson, owner of this establishment, Gregory Nelson, a partner of sorts of Moreno, and the widow.
"Due to circumstances that were beyond our control, we were unable to get out here to do any follow ups until this morning.
"I'm going to say this once, and only once. Everyone here is considered a person of interest in t
he murder of Mr. Moreno until one of my staff says otherwise." He looked around the room at the fidgeting figures. "Is that clear?"
Grudgingly, Greg, Michelle and Kevin all nodded.
"Now, as things progressed, we found ourselves lucky to have Ms. Merrifield on the island to run the preliminary investigation. At this time, I'd like for her to report to all of us what she has found."
I really hated doing group seminars, but you do what you've got to do. I stood and walked to the center of the room. Show time.
"When we first found Mr. Moreno's body, I asked the Chief to run everybody that was here. That means the twelve of you, me, my brother and sister-in-law, and the six employees. For the most part, everybody came out reasonably clean. There were some minor bumps, but nothing that singled anybody out immediately.
"From there, we started looking at the relationships between everyone and the victim. The employees, like me, had never met Mr. Moreno until his arrival on Friday. But it appears to me that the events of this weekend began long before Friday night, when the power went out," I stated. "I would in fact guess that the events were put into motion nearly six months ago when Luke went to a meeting to gain investors in Rim Runners'. At that time, he and Melissa met four of you for the first time. Michelle, Greg, Jim and the late Tony Moreno.
"Luke has known Kevin for many years, and in fact it was Kevin who helped build the relationships between the investors and Luke. Luke's records show that five of the investors: Kevin, Greg, Michelle, Jim and Tony requested another meeting and signed on the following weekend. The only investor who came on board after that was Beth Campbell."
"So what does that have to do with anything? The fact that my wife was out of town that weekend and only later heard about the opportunity through Greg sends up some kind of sign?" Scott asked.
"No, Mr. Campbell. I'm simply drawing the time line. I'm establishing that all of the investors have known each other for some time.
"The reality is, that most of you have known each other for some time. Kevin, you, Michelle and Theresa all went to the same college at the same time, and in fact you were all in several investing clubs at that time.
"And Michelle obviously knew her brother-in-law, Jim. Going out on a limb here, I'd say that it was quite possible that you, Jim, introduced all of them," I said pointing to the others I'd named, "to your racquetball partners, Tony Moreno and Greg Nelson.
"Greg was involved with R.O.T.C. while in college and then served in the service as an officer, where he was forced to deal with an arrogant hot-head by the name of Scott Campbell. Surprisingly, from the data that Chief O'Brien dug up, it shows that a Lieutenant Gregory Nelson testified in the disciplinary hearing of Corporal Campbell shortly before Campbell was discharged.
"What does any of this have to do with Moreno's death?" Greg demanded. "So we knew each other? Big deal."
"Mr. Nelson, the fact that you were all acquainted before the investment in Rim Runners' is a big deal. You, in fact, are the one that brought Beth Campbell into the investment. Why? And of more interest to me, I'd like to know why you and the Campbell's each have a lawsuit against Moreno over past investments, but yet you both bought into another one with him? Makes me very curious."
Greg snarled his lips, but didn't say anything. Scott looked like he was ready to explode; his face was red and splotchy.
"Again referring to the time line, a little over a month ago, at one of the director's meetings, one of you requested that Luke and Missy open Rim Runners' early for a dry run. A chance for all of the investors to come together and see how this facility was fairing. This meeting is significant because it put into motion a series of events that led to Mr. Moreno's death.
"As investors and board members, each of you was intimately aware of the resort's power system and back ups, along with the security cameras.
"One of the first things that I found significant was that after the power went out, when Luke and I went to the turbine, the generator wouldn't work. Not because of any technical difficulty, or something simple that a tech could fix today. No. The unit wouldn't work because it had been sabotaged. Based on the damage that I saw, and the notes that deputy Jensen provided, I'm guessing it was sabotaged by a very small amount of explosives, such as C-4, and detonated with a cell phone."
"Wait!" shouted Michelle. "You're telling us that somebody blew up the turbine and the generator?"
"Twice actually," I said. "Luke and I didn't say anything about the first attack when we got back, partly because we didn't know what Chief O'Brien would want us to do. We were waiting for his call for that next step.
"Shortly after we got back, Luke got the one gas generator going so there were some lights in the house. That's when we discovered Mr. Moreno missing.
"Without going into too much detail about finding Mr. Moreno, I'll just skip to what my investigation turned up. We collected hair, fiber and blood from the scene, all of which has already been turned over to Chief O'Brien. The next morning, I found a trail that led from the stables to the maintenance shed. Upon investigation, it was determined that three items had been removed from the stable at some point. A ball peen hammer, an antique hoof pick and a manure scoop.
"From referencing the photos that we took of the crime scene, and based on the shape and size of the contusions, I made an educated guess that we were looking for the manure scoop. Working from the hypothesis that the killer would want to get rid of the murder weapon, I guessed the best place to ditch it would be in the Atlantic. So, I took a walk around the area. Not only did we find the scoop hung up on the rocks just above the water line, but I found an area where somebody of mid stature fell.
"Judging by the size and shape of the indentations in the mud, I'd put the suspect at about five-six and male. What would you say to that, Mr. Campbell?"
"I don't have to say a word. You've got no proof."
I turned and looked at him. "You see? That's where you're wrong. I had my suspicions after Saturday, but I wasn't sure. Then on Sunday, I decided to take a ride around the island, keeping my eye on a few of you.
"Spontaneously, I decided that I'd go back to the first scene. The turbine. In an effort to document everything that I did, I turned on the video recorder on my cell phone before I entered. It was running when you attacked me, Mr. Campbell. The attack is on video. As is your administering a small dose of a horse tranquilizer called ketamine to me as well."
"It was too dark in there for you to see anything when you got hit! You can't-"
"You're correct there Mr. Campbell, it was too dark. However, your voice print is more than enough proof."
"Well if I did it, how'd I blow the place up? I never left here after we got here Friday. Hmm, Ms. Smarty? You said a cell phone triggered it, but I don't have one. I lost mine more than two weeks ago. Ask Beth," Campbell said loudly.
"Sending a text via an iPad or other device is a fairly easy thing to do, Campbell. When Greg Nelson called the number that you sent him it triggered the cell phone that was attached to the C-4, and resulted in the explosion.
"Chief O'Brien ran the incoming calls and texts for all of our phones," I explained. "He was able to track your text back to your iPad. You seem to forget, that if your tablet has cellular capabilities, it has a unique identifier. Just as good as a fingerprint."
Beth turned and looked at her husband with tears in her eyes. "Scott? Why? Why would you do that? Did you really kill Tony?"
"Please, Scott," Chief O'Brien said. "We'd all like to hear your reasoning. But in any case, I'm going to read you your rights."