Murder at Redwood Cove (10 page)

“T
ommy!” I yelled. “Tommy!” I screamed again, fighting the wind and the roar of the crashing waves.

His head moved. He looked up, blinking in the flashlight beam.

Relief exploded through me. “Are you hurt?”

“Ankle . . . sore . . .” His words floated up.

There was more, but I couldn't hear it. “Don't move! I'm coming to get you.”

I pushed back quickly from the edge, turned, and ran to Helen. I knelt down and put my arms around her. “It's Tommy. He's conscious. I think he's okay.” I hoped what I told her was true.

Helen clutched me and began sobbing as she struggled to stand.

“You stay here with Fred and watch for Daniel.”

“No!” She lurched upward. “I've got to get to him.”

“Helen, the track's narrow. It's dangerous.” I grabbed her arms.

She tried to pull away. The lantern cast dark shadows around her anxious eyes.

“I'm going. You can be the most help by signaling Daniel and holding on to Fred so he doesn't make the situation worse.”

She stopped fighting me. Her coldness seeped through the fleece. Her tense body was like an icicle—hard to the touch and ready to shatter into hundreds of pieces.

“Okay.” She started to tremble violently. “Hurry. God, please hurry.”

I ran left on the path, seeking a way down. The brush only got higher and thicker on my right. I turned back around and raced past Helen. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she hugged Fred to her side. The trail sloped downward. My flashlight picked up a narrow opening in the bushes, and I pushed myself through it, thorny plants grabbing at my jeans. There was a whisper of a trail.

The path veered left, back toward Tommy. Ghostly fingers of fog curled through the beam of light as if beckoning me to join them. I didn't look into the black void on my right. The boom of waves told me everything I needed to know . . . or didn't want to know. The damp, cold wind pierced my down jacket.

My anxiety raced forward but my feet placed themselves slowly and carefully on the narrow trail. It took a curve to the left. The beam of my light finally caught what I had been seeking—Tommy. Tall grass surrounded him on a small flat bed of earth and rock. I knelt beside him.

“Where are you hurt?” I touched him gently and ran my light over him. He grasped my arm, smudges of dirt on his cheeks and clothes. I leaned in, put my arm around him, and his bony shoulders shook through his light nylon jacket.

“My ankle hurts.” He clung tighter. “I lost my flashlight. I was too scared to move.”

I wanted to ask him what had happened but, more importantly, I needed to get him out of there.

“Let's get you home.” I looked up. A light bobbed at the cliff's edge above. Probably Daniel. I pointed my flashlight in that direction and turned it on and off twice. The bright dot in the distance winked in return.

Tommy started to stand.

“Wait. We can't be sure what shape your ankle's in.” I held him in place. “It's dangerous here. You might slip and fall.”

Boy, was it ever dangerous. The frantic race to find Tommy had blotted out the reality of the situation. Now that I'd reached him, I realized how close death was. One wrong step or crumbling piece of trail, and we'd fall hundreds of feet to the rugged rocks and crashing ocean below. How were we going to get him out of here?

“Really, I think I can walk.”

As if on cue, Daniel appeared. He bent down and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. “I believe you can do it, too, but let's not take any chances. Besides, I have an important job for you to do.”

“What's that?” Tommy asked.

“I won't be able to use the flashlight because I'll be carrying you. I need you to light the path for us so we can both be safe. Do you think you can do that?”

Tommy nodded vigorously.

“Daniel,” I hesitated. I didn't want to frighten Tommy, but there wasn't any way I could talk to Daniel privately. “Should one of us go for help? I know you can carry Tommy, but . . .” I looked at the meager trail disappearing into blackness.

“Kelly, I grew up running on these trails. As kids we thought it was fun to challenge each other to race as fast as we could.” He shook his head. “Dumb. I know. Somehow we all survived.”

I could barely make out his features in the dim light from the moon.

“I know how to navigate these trails.” Daniel handed Tommy his flashlight and picked him up as if he were nothing more than a light sack of groceries. “It's important you don't move, Tommy.”

“Okay.”

Tommy's left hand clutched Daniel's jacket tightly. With his right, he aimed the flashlight on the path ahead.

I followed closely behind, putting my beam with Tommy's. It was the longest shortest walk I'd ever taken. The crashing waves were deafening. One boom after another like a watery Fourth of July. Finally, the path turned away from the ocean and into the brush. Helen was waiting for us when we reached the main trail.

Daniel put Tommy down, and I pulled Fred's leash from Helen's hand as mother and son embraced.

“I'm sorry, Mom.” Tears streamed down his face.

“Hush, baby.” Helen stroked his hair. “Are you all right?”

“My ankle hurts a little, but that's all, I think.”

I took off my down jacket and draped it around Tommy's frail shoulders. I smiled at Daniel in the lantern's feeble glow. “I wanted to do that before, but I was concerned it might make him more awkward to carry.”

Fred was baying and pulling toward Tommy, so I let the leash out enough for the hound to touch him with his nose, but not to jump up and knock him over.

“Fred, I'm sorry to you, too.” Tommy pulled away from his mom and wrapped his arms around the squirming dog. “I'll never leave you behind again.”

Daniel picked Tommy up. “Ready to go home, sport?”

“Yep.” Tommy shined the light on the path.

Helen grabbed the lantern and walked at her son's side, her hand never letting go of Tommy's arm.

“I know what we need to have tonight,” Daniel said.

“What's that?” Tommy asked.

“Daniel's famous triple chocolate hot chocolate. What do you say to that?”

“Oh boy. I love that.” The light wavered for a moment. “With lots of whipped cream?”

“You bet.” The light snapped back on the path.

I followed with Fred trotting at my side. We made the last part of the walk in silence.

Daniel stopped at his VW bus. Tommy let go of his jacket, and Daniel helped him down. The boy gingerly placed his left foot on the ground. Daniel opened the side door, and Helen got in. Daniel lifted Tommy up onto the seat. Fred struggled to follow, and Daniel gave him an accommodating lift.

“It's only a couple of blocks,” I said. The van was packed. Between Helen clinging to Tommy and Fred's thick, wildly waving tail, it didn't leave much room. The back was full of boxes, and the passenger seat held several books. “I'll walk and meet you there.”

“Miss Kelly, here's your jacket.” Tommy pulled the jacket off, and Daniel handed it to me. “I'm warm now between Mom and Fred.”

My light picked up the worn planks of the boardwalk. Tommy had clearly been lured out to the bluff for some reason. I didn't believe Allie would lie. Was it one of the kids who'd gotten her password and did it as a prank? But Allie and Tommy had planned on changing it this afternoon. Maybe they hadn't gotten it done.

Daniel's van drove by. By the time I got back to the inn, they were in the kitchen inspecting Tommy's ankle. The dirt was washed off his arms. A few small, angry-looking red lines remained.

“I don't think it's anything serious.” Daniel tousled his hair. “Time for a shower. We need to see if anything is hiding under the rest of the dirt, then the hot chocolate.”

Daniel looked at me. “We talked to Tommy about the e-mail. We told him Allie didn't send it. He doesn't have any idea who could have done it.”

Now I could ask the question that had been consuming me. “Tommy, what happened? How did you end up on that ledge where I found you?”

He looked at me and gulped. “Someone shoved me off the path.”

H
elen emitted a primal moan as Tommy's words sank in. Her eyes widened with a look of horror mixed with hate. Her lips formed a thin, tight line and her hands balled into fists.

“Who pushed you?” The words were a raspy whisper from Helen's emotion-choked voice.

“I don't know. I didn't see him.” Tommy slid off his chair and huddled next to Fred. “At least I think it was a man. I'm not sure.”

I hesitated questioning him, but the sooner we knew what happened, the better. Gently I said, “Tommy, tell us from the beginning.”

“You already know about the e-mail I thought was from Allie.” He took a deep breath and stroked the dog's head. “I went to the headlands, and I saw a light flashing. It disappeared before I reached it.” He stopped talking.

“Then what?” I prompted in a soft voice.

“Someone grabbed me from behind and knocked my flashlight out of my hand.” His voice quavered. “Then he picked me up. It felt like he was getting ready to throw me over the edge of the cliff. I fought to get away.”

Helen's knees began to buckle. I grabbed a kitchen stool and scooted it under her. She sat down hard. I kept an arm on her shoulder in case she began to sway. Her face was pasty white.

“Someone else yelled ‘no' and I think pulled at his arm. One of his hands let go of me. I got loose. Then he shoved me. I went over the edge. I grabbed at anything I could find to hold on to and ended up where you found me.” He put his arms around the stocky neck of the dog and pushed his face into the mottled fur.

The only sound in the room was the shrill whistle from the teakettle. I'd been holding my breath. I exhaled. Daniel seemed frozen in place like a bronze statue. Helen clutched the counter, her knuckles pressed white against her skin.

Daniel turned off the stove, and the shrieking became a hiss then died away.

Tommy sat up. “I heard arguing above, but it stopped when I heard Fred's baying.”

“What did they say?” I asked.

“I couldn't hear much. The wind was really loud.” Tommy tugged on one of Fred's ears. “I heard the words
murder
and
accident
.” He buried his face in the hound's thick neck. “I don't know who they were,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”

“There's nothing to be sorry about.” I got on my knees beside him and gave him a hug. “Do you have any idea why someone would want to hurt you?”

He shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip.

I got to my feet.

Color began to return to Helen's face. She released her death grip on the counter, stood, and went to Tommy. She held out her hand. “Come on. Let's get you in the shower.”

Tommy grasped her hand. Helen pulled him up and wrapped her arms around him. She held him against her, rocking him back and forth. She let him go at last, took his hand, and they walked out. Fred stumbled sleepily after them.

Daniel and I looked at each other. No words came. Someone had tried to kill a little boy. Icy fingers of fear clutched my heart.

“I need to call nine-one-one.” I went to the phone.

Daniel took the teakettle off the stove and poured steaming water into a red mug. A deep frown marred his smooth forehead as he opened the cupboard and pulled out a can of cocoa. He poured milk into a saucepan and turned on the burner.

This time I got Dispatch. “I want to report an attempted murder.”

“Does the person need medical attention?”

“No.” Thank goodness.

“Who was the intended victim?”

“Tommy Rogers, a little boy.” Almost murdered.

“And your name?”

“Kelly Jackson.” A name they must be getting to know.

“What happened?”

“Someone shoved him off a path.” With certain death waiting in the ocean below.

“Where did it happen?”

“The headlands behind the visitors' center.” On a cliff.

“Where is he now?”

“At Redwood Cove Bed-and-Breakfast.” With all of us watching over him.

“I'll send an officer right out.”

I hung up. With a jolt, I realized we weren't all watching over him. He and Helen were by themselves.

I walked over to Daniel. “Do you think there's any danger to Helen or Tommy now?” I looked at him. “They're alone in that little cottage.”

He pulled a tea bag out of the cup, dropped it in the sink, and turned off the heating milk. “Time for Helen's tea.” He headed for the door. “I'll stay there until they're ready to come back.”

“Thanks.” Now it was my turn to sit down with a thud. What was going on? Why had someone tried to kill Tommy?

I stretched my back and groaned. Time to call Corrigan. I went to the wall, picked up the portable phone, and entered his number.

“Hello. Corrigan here.”

“Hi, Michael. It's Kelly.” I took a deep breath. “There's been an incident.”

“What happened?”

I recounted the story and waited as the silence on the other end of the line lengthened.

“I'm glad to hear the boy's okay.” He sighed. “I'm sending Scott out. He'll get there as soon as he can.”

I didn't argue. I knew the company rules. Any serious incident called for a second manager on site. I had talked him out of it once. This time I wasn't going to try.

“How soon do you think he'll get here?”

“Probably sometime tomorrow afternoon or early evening.”

That gave me some time to try to sort things out on my own. Once Scott got here, that might not be so easy.

“I'll stop by the inn as soon as I get in on Saturday. It'll be helpful to me to have Scott there, as well.”

A knock sounded on the front door. “There's someone here. Probably the deputy.”

“See you Saturday then. And . . . Kelly, be careful.”

“Right. 'Bye.”

Be careful. But who was the threat? Who was I supposed to be careful around?

I went to the front door and peeked through the small hole. Deputy Sheriff Bill Stanton stood under the porch's light.

“Good evening, Deputy Stanton.” I swung the door wide. “Please come in.”

“Evenin', ma'am.” He moved his six-foot-plus frame with grace through the opening. “I hear something else has happened. This time an attempted murder?”

Did I detect a hint of skepticism?

“Yes. Someone tried to kill Tommy.” I walked ahead of him to the kitchen, biting my tongue in frustration. Mom's voice spoke to me, reminding me to think before speaking, especially when I was mad.

Memories of Mom's words corralled the rush of anger by the time I reached the workroom. I turned to the deputy sheriff. “Tommy's showering. Daniel and Helen will bring him over here when he's done.” I took a deep breath. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”
Be polite, Kelly, be polite.

“No thanks.” The deputy removed his hat and placed it on a nearby chair. “What happened?” He pulled a notebook from his pocket and leaned against the counter.

I told the story. I was amazed to see this bulk of a man making tiny notes in a miniscule pocket notebook. It must be something they taught them at the police academy.

He snapped the book closed and viewed me with weary eyes. “Sounds like a close call.”

“Yes. I agree.” I had a feeling it was linked to Bob's death, but I didn't know how. Murder and an attempted murder. Throw in robbery and poaching. They had to be connected.

The back door opened and a scrubbed, clean Tommy entered, his face flushed from the hot shower. Helen held his hand. Fred lumbered behind, and Daniel brought up the rear. Tommy stopped when he saw the deputy.

“Hi, Tommy.” The officer smiled. “I'm Deputy Sheriff Stanton.”

It was the first time I'd seen the deputy be anything but stern and, in my opinion, uncooperative. This was a nice change.

“I hear you've had quite an adventure.” He patted the stool beside him. “Have a seat. I'd like to hear about it.”

“Deputy Stanton, do you need to do this now?” Helen pulled Tommy closer to her. “Can't it wait until tomorrow?”

“Sorry, Mrs. Rogers. It's important I get as much information now as I can while it's still fresh in his mind.” He looked at Tommy. “Do you watch police shows on television?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then. We're going to act like we're on TV.”

Tommy looked at him with interest. I was beginning to see another side to the deputy.

“Hop up here on this seat, and I'll ask you questions like they do on television.”

Tommy clambered onto the stool.

The deputy extended his hand. “My name is Deputy Sheriff Bill Stanton.” His voice had a melodramatic ring to it.

Tommy's small hand disappeared in Stanton's large one.

He released Tommy's hand, opened his notepad, and straightened up. “What's your name, young man?”

Tommy straightened up, too. “Tommy Rogers, sir.”

“I have some questions to ask you.” The deputy frowned theatrically.

“Shoot.”

For some reason, I wished Tommy hadn't used that word.

Daniel interrupted from the kitchen. “Before you get started, I think our witness could use some hot chocolate for this interrogation.” The chocolate's rich, sweet scent permeated the room. He poured steaming liquid into a mug decorated with frolicking dogs and put a large spoonful of fresh whipped cream on top. He garnished it with curls of chocolate. “Time for triple hot chocolate.” He handed the boy the mug.

Tommy's eyes grew big as he accepted the cup with two hands. He took a sip and acquired a white, pencil-thin moustache. “Does it have the chocolate chips at the bottom?”

“You bet. It wouldn't be triple hot chocolate without those.”

“Deputy Stanton, would you like some hot chocolate?” Daniel asked.

“You know, don't mind if I do.”

What? The gruff deputy drinking hot chocolate? No way.

“Whipped cream?” Daniel asked.

“No. I'll pass on that.”

“That's the best part.” Tommy now wore a full white moustache. He licked cream from his lips.

Stanton laughed. “If I was your age, I'd have it. Got to watch the calories these days.”

Between the hot chocolate and the laugh, the tension in the room evaporated. Who would've thought the big guy could be so sensitive.

“Kelly, chocolate?” Daniel asked.

“No, thanks.”

“So, Tommy, tell me what happened,” the deputy sheriff said.

Tommy rattled away.

I heard nothing new.

The boy's eyes went to half-mast and then closed.

The deputy stood. “Tommy, I'll come back in the morning. I don't want you to go to school tomorrow.”

“Gee, thanks.” Tommy was now wide awake.

“You still have to do your homework and make up the classwork you miss,” Deputy Sheriff Stanton said in a stern voice.

Tommy nodded vigorously.

“And I want you to stay with your mom, Daniel, or Kelly at all times. Understand?”

Tommy nodded again.

The deputy looked from me to Daniel. “Is that okay with you two?”

We agreed in unison.

I'd been thinking about the coming night during the questioning. “Helen, I think you, Tommy, and Fred should stay in the inn tonight. The Magnolia Room is open. It has two double beds.”

Helen's haggard eyes spoke their gratitude. “Thanks.”

Stanton turned to Daniel. “I'd like to see where the incident took place tonight. Can you take me there?”

“No problem. Let me help them get their things, and then I'll show you where it happened.”

I picked up Tommy's empty cup and put it in the sink. Daniel went out with Helen, Tommy, and the ever-present Fred.

“Ms. Jackson,” the deputy sheriff said.

“Yes?”

“This opens a whole new door to what's been happening here.” He paused. “You could be right about Bob.”

I tried really hard to keep the I-told-you-so look off my face.