Murder at Redwood Cove (11 page)

T
he alarm clock's incessant buzz snapped me out of a fitful sleep. I welcomed the intrusion; it had been a long night. I reached over and punched the button, stretched, and winced as bruises reminded me of their presence. The events of last night poured into my mind. I closed my eyes, and visions of a dirt-covered Tommy lying on a cliff flashed on my mental television. Time to get up. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. I needed coffee. Strong coffee.

Walking into the suite's living area, I slid the divider to the sunroom back. The morning sun hadn't made the black beast of night flee yet. I was completely exposed to anyone who might be outside while I could see nothing. I quickly closed the partition.

I went through the steps of coffee prep while my mind wrestled with questions. Who tried to kill Tommy? What did the boy know? Had he seen something? Who was the second person on the cliff? Was this recent attack connected to the BlackBerry theft and Bob's death?

Only questions. No answers. I had to make a plan.

My shower was a fast one. I did my daily makeup routine on autopilot. Dressed, I sat and began jotting ideas. I needed to question Tommy about Allie changing her password. When did she do it? Who was present? I wanted him to go through the last couple of days again. I believed him when he said he didn't know any reason why someone would want to hurt him, but there had to be something. I needed to explore at the site of the incident. We had Bob's schedule. I would read it over and talk to the most recent people he'd seen. I'd check with the Sentinels and see if they'd discovered anything new.

I put the pen down, relieved I now had a direction.

Scott. What was I going to do about him? Would he take over? He was higher up in the organization and could do that. Then there was the growing attraction I'd been feeling. He'd been popping into my mind more and more. The idea of risking another relationship made me as cold as a winter night in Wyoming.

I needed to put thoughts of him in a mental box right now. I had other things to deal with. Among them, managing the inn.

I went to the kitchen.

Helen was busy with the breakfast baskets.

“Did you and Tommy sleep okay last night?”

“He did.” Her voice was raspy from shouting the night before. She arranged raspberry croissants on a plate and garnished them with fresh berries. “He's still asleep.” She nodded toward a blanket-covered bundle in a large overstuffed chair. Fred snored on the floor near him. Helen wrapped the plate with plastic wrap. “Little sleep for me.”

It showed. Her face was tight and drawn. The sunken areas under her eyes were blue-black splotches.

“I'll have Daniel check the windows and doors of your cottage to be sure the locks are secure. Then I'm having an alarm system put in.” I paused. “Even if this hadn't happened, I think it's a good idea.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Helen wiped her hands on a blue-checkered towel. Her shoulders slumped.

She's carrying their world—Tommy's and hers—on that gaunt frame. It must be tough.
“Let me help you.”

We completed the food preparation and packed the baskets. The blanket began to move and make noise.

“I'll deliver these so you can stay with Tommy. After that, I'm going for a short walk.”

“Kelly, thanks once again.”

After the baskets were placed, I shrugged into my jacket, unbolted the front door, and headed for the scene of last night's attack. The rising sun was hidden in the hills behind me, but it had pushed the blackness away to a drab, gray dawn. The tent poles for tomorrow's festival were piled on one side of the expansive front lawn. They looked like a pile of giant bones in the sparse morning light.

I reached the spot in less than ten minutes. Fresh soil had been turned over where Tommy had pulled grass out by the roots, trying to stop his fall. I leaned over, peered below, and shuddered. Huge rocks and crashing waves were hundreds of feet below, and the drop was only a few feet beyond the ledge where I'd found him.

A flush of anger rushed through me. I clenched my fists. I'd get this person. If it was the last thing I did, I'd get him. I looked around, and it hit me why the attacker chose this spot. Aged, gnarled pines, bent by years of relentless winds, grew a few feet away in a huddled bunch. Scanning the bluff, I spotted no other stand of trees. The perfect place to hide. That answered one question—why this place on the cliff.

I walked slowly back to the inn. A collection of locals occupied a corner near a coffeehouse. Some dogs lounged on the boardwalk, while others greeted their doggie friends. Rusted, dusty pickups raised high on oversized tires sat nearby. A Great Dane mix wagged his tail at me and looked with hopeful eyes for a friendly pat, or better yet, a cookie. His owner talked with a bleary-eyed individual clasping a large mug with both hands.

“May I pet your dog?”

A denim-clad young man held the rope tied to the enormous tan dog's collar. “Sure. He's always up for attention.” He went back to conversing with his friend.

I rubbed the dog's ears as he leaned into me. As I scratched his side, the dog's owner said to the man next to him, “Did you hear about what happened on the headlands last night?”

“No.” His friend had the look of a long night—face unshaven, red eyes squinting into the distance.

“Someone tried to off the kid that lives at Redwood Cove B&B. You know, the little scrawny one that's with the funny-looking dog all the time.”

“You're kiddin'.” The man's eyes opened a fraction of an inch wider.

“Nope. Jake just told me.” He took a sip of coffee. “Tried to toss him off the cliff.”

“No!” Eyes a millimeter wider.

They stopped talking and contemplated their coffee cups.

Oh my gosh. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How did they know this? I had to find out. How could I keep them talking? Maybe feeding them some new information they could impress their friends with would do the trick. Something that wouldn't jeopardize the case.

“Thanks for letting me pet your dog. He's a sweetie. I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying. I was there last night.”

The man studied me. Wary. Conflicted. Probably wanted to learn more, but reluctant to talk to an outsider.

“What d'ya mean you were there?”

“I'm interim manager at the B&B. As I'm sure you know, the former manager, Bob Phillips, died recently.”

Both men nodded, looking somber.

The dog put his head in his master's lap.

The man scratched the dog's furry neck. “We heard about someone being sent to take over.”

“When Tommy went missing, I helped search for him.”

The man whom I hoped to trade information with inspected the contents of his cup.

“Rumor has it the hound tracked him.” He looked at me expectantly.

“Yes. His dog found him.” Now my turn. “How do you know what happened?”

“There's a communication system here that's like a wildfire.” The dog's owner exchanged furtive glances with his friend then looked back at me. “If something happens around here, everyone in town knows in half an hour, an hour max.” He tossed back his last bit of coffee. “One of my friends told me. Don't know how he found out.”

“Thanks.” I headed back to the inn.

Wonderful. The whole town already knew. There wouldn't be any covert questioning without people knowing where I was headed.

I entered the workroom just as Andy and Phil burst in. Tommy was eating cereal, while Helen washed dishes.

“Tommy, how are you? I heard about your terrible experience,” Phil said.

“Oh my. Oh my,” was the best Andy could produce.

Tommy's face paled.

Helen stopped washing dishes and turned to the men. “Andy and Phil, I think Tommy . . .”

A knock on the door, a turn of the handle, and there was Jason.

He rushed in. “My boy, are you okay? I came over as fast as I could when I heard.”

Tommy was as still as a statue.

As well-intentioned as the men were, Tommy's eyes were getting bigger by the minute.

“Guys, your concern is really touching, but I think we should go in the parlor and talk,” I said.

A look of understanding settled on Phil's face. “Good idea.” He grabbed Andy's arm and started for the front of the building.

I touched Jason's shoulder and nodded toward the front of the house.

“I made this for you.” Jason gave Tommy a cupcake with chocolate frosting, colorful sprinkles, and TOMMY written in purple icing on top.

“Oh boy. Cool.” He began to look like a normal little kid again, his eyes devouring the decorated treat, color returning to his face.

“If there's anything we can do to help either of you,” Phil said over his shoulder to Helen, “please let us know.”

“That's very kind,” Helen said.

“Mr. Phil?”

“Yes, Tommy?” The wine merchant turned back toward him.

“I have to stay home today from school. I'm working on a Greek mythology project. Could you help me with that?”

He beamed. “Absolutely.”

“We can't ask you to do that,” Helen said. “I know you have work to do.”

Phil puffed out his chest and threw back his head. “I'd be honored to help him understand the stories of my culture. Too many times people get it all wrong.” He looked at Tommy. “I'll be back in a little bit, and we can talk about gods, and goddesses, and Greece, and . . .” He stopped as he saw my arched eyebrows.

I shooed the guys into the front room. “How on earth did all of you find out about what happened?”

“The delivery man at the hotel told me,” Jason said.

Andy, who'd recovered the power of speech, said, “The newspaper boy, and I told Phil.”

Another question to answer. Who first told what happened? Certainly not the murderer. Or could it be?

“I think it's best if we let Tommy try to have as normal a day as possible.” I looked at each of them. “That means not talking about what happened.”

The three men nodded.

“Why don't you tell me what you know? I'm curious to see whether it's accurate and if there is anything you know that I don't,” I said.

They had it all. Every detail. There weren't that many people who knew about last night—Tommy, Helen, Daniel, the deputy sheriff, me, the attacker, and whoever stopped him.

“That's what happened.” I stood. “Please watch for anything unusual happening around here, and let me know if you hear anything else.”

Again the three nodded.

Who was most likely to have told the story? I returned to the work area. Tommy was finishing his cereal and reading the newspaper comics.

“How are you feeling today?” I asked.

“Okay,” he mumbled, working on a mouthful of cereal.

“Did you tell anyone about what happened after you talked to Deputy Stanton?”

He nodded. “I texted Allie last night. I knew she'd want to know.” He took another spoonful of cereal and went back to reading.

Texted Allie. The whole school probably knew before first period.

Then their parents.

Then their friends.

What about the attacker? Did he know Tommy survived?

T
here was a quiet tap on the back door. I spied Rudy's face through the window and waved him in.

“Hi, Rudy,” Helen said.

He did a little bow to her and then looked in Tommy's direction. “Good morning to the both of you.”

Tommy glanced up and gave him a quick wave.

“Madam Kelly, is okay I help get ready for the festival tomorrow by weeding flowers beds?” He held up a garden trowel.

“That would be wonderful. How nice of you to offer.” The plethora of flowers and shrubs could employ an army in a never-ending battle to keep the garden neat.

“I want talk with you about couple of plants. Would work now for you?” His Russian accent was heavier than usual.

“Now's fine.” I got up and joined him.

Once outside, Rudy asked, “How is the boy? We heard what happened.”

We? Did all the Silver Sentinels know?

“He seems to be doing fine.” I looked at him. “How did you find out?”

“Mary's son called her.” He shrugged. “She called me. We have phone tree for getting to everyone fast.”

Of course. It made sense the Sentinels would have an efficient communication system.

“You said you wanted to talk about a couple of plants.”

“Pretend. Wanted to ask about the boy.”

“Thanks for helping with the garden.”

He nodded and bent down to pick up a small foam kneepad and he walked to the flower bed closest to the tent's skeleton parts. His once-black turtleneck matched his faded, heavy cotton trousers. Rudy dropped the trowel and the pad and then carefully lowered himself to the ground. Kneeling, he began to dig and pull weeds.

I went back into the work area and sat across from Tommy. He was about done with his breakfast. “Yesterday when there was the confrontation with the young thugs, as Allie called them, there was some mention of Allie's e-mail address being used, and you were going to change the password so it didn't happen again.”

Tommy nodded. “We talked about a new one as soon as we got back here. We made it Spreckles13.” He grinned. “The name of her new kitty and her age.”

“Did you tell anyone her new password?”

“No.” He looked at me, hurt in his eyes. “I would never do that, Miss Kelly.”

“I didn't think you would.” I touched his arm. “I'm sorry, Tommy. I had to ask. Someone sent you a phony e-mail, and we have to find out who.”

“It's all right.” He didn't look at me as he pushed the remaining soggy cereal around in his bowl.

I didn't think it was all right. I didn't want him to feel bad, but I had to know how his attacker had gotten the information.

“Was anyone nearby when you and Allie were discussing the new password?”

“Only grown-ups.”

Only. Adults didn't count.

“Do you remember who?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Phil, Andy, and Jason.” He pointed a slender finger in the direction of the worktable. “And Daniel was putting food away.” He shrugged. “That's all I remember.”

“Did Charlie, the water deliveryman, come while you were talking about the password?”

He frowned and then his brow cleared. “Yeah. He changed the bottle next to Allie. She had to move for a few minutes.”

All the people I thought could've taken the BlackBerry had an opportunity to hear the two kids. Any of them could've been involved in the attack on Tommy.

I breathed deeply. “Whoever tried to hurt you last night must have had a reason. Let's go over the last few days, starting with yesterday. Think back to what you saw or heard.”

Tommy turned to his mom. “Can I eat the cupcake now?”

Helen walked over and rested her hands on his thin shoulders. “May I,” she gently corrected him. “Half now, half later.”

“Thanks!” He plucked a piece of cupcake and popped it in his mouth.

“So, what did you do yesterday?” I pulled him back to the topic at hand.

“After Allie and I changed her password, I did some homework, then went to the post office for my mom.”

“Did you see anyone you know?”

He pinched off another piece of the pastry. “Yeah.” He looked at the ceiling, chewing on the cupcake. “The water guy was talking to Andy near the hardware store across from the post office.”

“You mean Charlie?”

“Yeah.”

Was there some kind of connection between the two of them? Or was it only casual conversation? “Then what?”

“I came home and ate.” His face clouded over. “Then I got the e-mail I thought was from Allie.”

“Let's go to the day before yesterday,” I quickly said. “Start with the evening.”

He thought for a moment. “I had dinner, finished my math, watched TV, and went to bed.”

“And earlier in the day?”

His face lit up. “Allie and I went to Noah's Place for ice cream. I
love
the banana chocolate fudge.”

I laughed. “Sounds good. I'll have to try it.”

He began pulling the paper off the cupcake.

“You're doing great, Tommy. Just keep working back through the day.”

“I went to the market for Mom.” He stopped. The expression on his face closed like a slammed door. “I really need to go do my homework now.” He squirmed in his chair. “Can we talk later, Miss Kelly?”

His face had gone pale; his eyes had an owlish look. An expression he'd been wearing a lot lately. But his jaw was clenched. That was new. Tommy, stubborn?

He knew something and wasn't telling. I was torn. Should I keep questioning him or let it be for now? He'd had a tough night. I didn't want to upset him, but someone had tried to kill him. “How about just a little more of the day?” I urged.

“I need to go.” He pushed his cupcake away with only a small portion eaten. “Mom, I don't feel like having any more now.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I'll wrap it up for you,” Helen said. “How was it?”

He lit up like a Christmas tree. “It was cool. There's even pieces of chocolate inside. Jason's cool.”

Tommy had plucked pieces from all around the sides, leaving his name intact.

The distinctive rattle of Daniel's bus came closer, and gravel crunched as he parked.

Daniel swung the door open. “Good morning.”

“Hi, Daniel. See what Jason made for me.” Tommy pointed to the prized treat.

Daniel walked over and peered down. “How great is that? It even has your name on it.”

“Yeah. And it has chocolate inside.”

“And we know chocolate's good, don't we?”

“We sure do,” Tommy said.

Daniel turned to me. “Is there anything in particular you want me to work on today?”

“Yes. I'd like you check out the locks on the doors and windows in Helen's cottage and research what it will take to get an alarm put in.”

“I can check the cottage now, if that works for you and Helen.” He glanced in Helen's direction.

“That's fine with me,” I said.

Helen nodded.

“I need to go home and work on my report.” Tommy slid off the stool and headed for the door.

“Tommy,” Helen called after him. “Do you remember what Deputy Stanton said last night about one of us being present?”

Tommy stopped. “Yeah. You, Daniel, or Miss Kelly need to be with me. But I'm only going next door to our house.”

“Let's follow the policeman's orders.” I hoped by making it sound official it would take the sting out of the situation. “We can talk to him about it when he comes this morning. Daniel's working over there, so we'll be doing what the deputy requested.”

“Okay.” Tommy shrugged. “C'mon, Fred.”

The dog pulled himself up and trotted after the boy.

“I'm going to have my work cut out for me keeping up with the dynamic duo.” Daniel followed them out the door.

I picked up the remaining dishes on the table and put them in the sink, thinking about what the deputy had asked us to do. Right now we could trust no one.

“Tommy asked Phil to help him with his project,” I said.

Helen bent to put a dish in the dishwasher. “He's such a kind man.”

“And one of us needs to be there when he's working with Tommy.”

She snapped upright. “What do you mean?”

“Deputy Stanton said one of us three was to be there at all times.”

Helen shook her head from side to side. “But it's Phil. He wouldn't hurt anyone.”

“I don't think he would, either.”

Ours eyes locked. Helen's face drained of any remaining color.

“We have no idea who tried to hurt him,” I added gently.

“You suspect even people we know?” Her voice quavered.

“I don't think it's about being suspicious of everyone and filling our lives with fear.” I searched for the right words. “I think it's about being careful and not making exceptions.”

Helen thought for a moment, then nodded. “I understand.”

Phil burst into the room, humming. I recognized musical notes from “Never on Sunday.”

“Where's my student?” He gave an upward flourish of his right arm. “I'm ready to teach him the real stories about the Greek gods and goddesses.”

“He left a few minutes ago to work on it in the cottage. Your timing is perfect.”

“Fantastic.” Phil left, following in the tracks of Daniel, Tommy, and Fred.

“I'll go over and share with Daniel what we talked about,” I said to Helen. “Then we can catch up on tonight's guests.”

“Sounds good.”

“Helen, the inn's full tonight. I want you and Tommy to stay in my room.”

“Oh no. We couldn't do that. That's not right.”

I went over and stood next to her. “What's right is for you and Tommy to be safe. I need to be on site, so I can pull a roll-away bed into the small conference room.”

“Absolutely not. You can stay in our cottage.” She stopped for a moment. “Unless you don't feel safe there.”

“I'm not worried about myself. Tommy's the one in danger. I don't want to intrude in your home.”

“Fair's fair. If we use your room, I want you to have mine.”

“Deal. I'm going to go talk to Daniel now.”

A loud knock on the door changed my plans. Stanton stood outside.

“I'll go talk to Daniel.” Helen wiped her hands on a dish towel.

Maybe he had some information. Or better yet, maybe they got the guy. “Great.”

I opened the door. “Good morning, Deputy Sheriff Stanton.”

“Same to you, Ms. Jackson.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Very much so.” He sat on one of the stools and put his hat on another. Deep lines etched his face.

I poured the coffee and handed it to him. “Any news?”

“No. We searched the area and found nothing.” He took a sip and stared into the mug. “I came to ask Tommy some more questions.”

“Let's go in the study first, and I'll fill you in on what I've found out.”

He looked at me quizzically. “Playing detective, are we?”

I knew the heat filling my face ushered in a beet-red blush. Darn. “I'm trying to help figure out what happened . . .” I stammered. “I'm not being a detective . . .” I took a deep breath and willed myself to be calm. “I want to find answers to Bob's death and the attack on Tommy. I have a stake in both. So does the company I work for.”

Deputy Stanton chuckled. “Hold on. No reason to get riled up.” He took another drink of his coffee. “Anything that helps to find who attacked the little boy is appreciated.” He rose. “I look forward to hearing what you know.”

We settled ourselves in the inn's office, and I brought him up to speed about Allie's password, how everyone in town seemed to know what happened, what Tommy told me about his activities, and my suspicion he was holding something back.

“Deputy Sheriff Stanton, we have three crimes we're sure of so far—the theft of the BlackBerry and my being shoved, abalone poaching, and the attack on Tommy.” I paused. “I really feel the events are connected in some way.”

The deputy shrugged. “I'm listening.”

“We know Helen, Jason, Andy, Phil, and Daniel were here when the BlackBerry was returned.”

The officer nodded.

“Suzie knew about the return because of my conversation on the phone.” I paused. “Charlie was in earshot when I talked to Helen.”

Deputy Stanton jotted down notes.

“Charlie showed up not long after with a delivery.” I drummed my fingers on the desk. “They were all here when the kids changed the password, except for Suzie. She couldn't have e-mailed him. That lets her out of the attack on Tommy and, if the incidents are connected, she didn't steal the BlackBerry.” The face of last night's frightened mother flashed through my mind. “And, of course, Helen's not a suspect.”

Deputy Stanton shifted in his chair. “If we go with your train of thought, we're considering five possible suspects—Jason, Andy, Phil, Charlie, and Daniel.”

No. It couldn't be any of them. I didn't want it to be any of them. I shook my head in disbelief. And Daniel was on the list.

It couldn't be Daniel.

Could it?