Plundered Christmas (14 page)

While sounds came out to fill the space, I couldn't decipher them into words no matter how hard I craned my neck and encouraged my ears to decode the whispers. I couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman.

“But you checked and it wasn't there, so someone else got it.”

The mumbles occurred again.

“No!” the man shouted. “I am not taking the blame for your incompetence. You've made things a lot more difficult than they needed to be. This was supposed to be a quick operation.”

The other person obviously was defending himself or herself yet again.

“Granted. No one can control the weather.”

If only I could figure out which direction the voices were coming from, then I could get close enough to hear everything. But I wasn't entirely sure. The rooms were so spacious that the sound seemed to bounce.

They could have been in the room next door, out in the hallway or even outside under the window. If I moved too quickly, they would surely hear me, and I didn't like that option either since they seemed to have something to do with William's death. Or perhaps they tried to take advantage of his death to find
it
, whatever
it
was.

“… that guest is too nosey for her own good. You should stay away from her.”

I assumed he meant me since the only other female guest was Josie. Anne couldn't really be called a guest since she was family.

It sounded as if the other person didn't want to stay away from me from what I could make out. I liked to think it was because I was so friendly and personable.

“A map? Are you sure?”

So much for that estimation
. Whoever it was wanted to stay close to me to get the map.

I knew James was waiting on me, but I didn't dare leave the room in case one of the people who belonged to those voices saw me. And now I had another mission. I looked in the kids' luggage as quietly as I could. Thankfully, they hadn't rezipped it.

That meant Justin must have been the last one looking for something.

Josie was as compulsive as her dad about closing and locking things.

In the back pocket, I found what I was looking for. Josie had packed some schoolwork and notepaper. I'd never known my little girl, once she could read and write, to go anywhere without at least some of her work. I took a sheet of paper and carefully began to trace the map. I figured that if I just hid it somewhere in the room, or elsewhere in the house, whoever it was would just keep looking for it and maybe put me or my kids in danger.

I traced the map as best I could, marking all five stars especially clearly. Then I folded the map copy and placed it inside the novel I had brought with me to read. Secure that I could follow the map even if, or I should say
when
, someone stole it from me, I listened to the walls and heard nothing. I looked at my watch. Just over fifteen minutes had passed since I had left James to get Jelly ready. I put the extra shirt on, tucked the book back in the suitcase where it had been before, and put on the jacket with the original map in the pocket.

Checking one last time at the door to make sure I didn't hear anything, I inched it slowly open and peered around it. No one was in the hall, so I hurried out, shutting the door behind me.

I met up with James and Jelly at the front door. “What took you so long?”

“I was cold,” I said loud enough so whoever was listening would hear me. But I mouthed to him, “we'll talk.”

We headed out into the night with Jelly, hand in hand, James holding our dog's leash. In Jelly world, James was the alpha-male. He had worked with him and trained him as a puppy. Our lovable bulldog walked directly in line with James's heel no matter how much leash my husband gave him. With me or the kids, he was mostly good. With James, he was angelic.

It wasn't raining as much as it was misting. The wind, too, had diminished quite a bit. I hadn't heard if Mary had got a recent weather report, but it certainly seemed to be subsiding.

If I were to hazard a guess, I'd even say it had warmed a little from last night, but not enough to yet call it warm, at least not by this Southerner's standards. Maybe sixty-five. Tops.

I liked holding James's hand, but even if I didn't, I wouldn't have let go of it. The cloud cover, combined with the lack of electricity meant that other than the flashlight I held, we had absolutely no light. The moon and all the stars hid behind the blanketed sky.

To say that we walked along an obstacle course was an understatement. It had been bad when the kids and I had taken Jelly out in the morning. Now, at least twice as many branches and debris littered our way. It wasn't as much walking the dog as negotiating him through the pooch-sized obstacle course.

Poor James had to pay attention for me, too.

I was so distracted by everything I heard and everything that had happened in the last few days that I kept tripping over things. So one hand of James encouraged Jelly past things while the other had to balance me and keep me from falling over. Like I said, poor guy.

We kept negotiating until we got to the wading beach. While some detritus had washed up on the shore, it was pristine compared with the rest of the island.

“OK, what happened?” James broke the silence. Well, vocal silence anyway. I don't think one can truly call the crashing and banging of the post storm waves silence. But its rhythmic noise made it feel like a safe place to talk.

“I overheard part of a conversation when I went to our room to get an extra shirt. Someone had tried to get something from William, not sure if they meant when he was dead or alive, but it wasn't there. But then they talked about the inquisitive female guest and her possession of a map. The voice I could hear definitely intended to steal the map from me, so I made a copy.”

James was quiet for a minute.

Jelly tugged a little towards the nearest tree and we followed. Obviously, that was our intent for heading out in the first place so we had to let the dog do his duty.

Then, he asked, “Did they really call you
inquisitive
?”

What? His wife could be in danger, we were stuck at a crime scene in a storm with an assortment of angry, confused, and at least one murderous person, and that's what he chooses to ask about?

“Well,” I hedged. “That's what they meant.”

James put his free arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “Let me guess, my sweet. Was it busybody?”

I shook my head aggressively enough to shake him if he couldn't see it. “No-o-o.”

“Then, maybe nosey?”

How did he do that? “They might have used that word. But that's only because they were already not-nice people.”

He kissed my cheek. “I do think you established that. But also, you tend to sweeten the descriptions of yourself that other people dish out. I personally would never call you nosey. But you do tend to be more curious about most things than the average person.”

“Perhaps that's where Josie gets that from?”

He laughed. “No doubt.”

It was so much more peaceful out here than in the house; we were reluctant to head back into the chaos of emotions and attitude. Or at least I was. I didn't know why James made no move to leave the beach.

“Do you remember how your curiosity got you into trouble when we met? I took a picture of you because I thought you were cute and you thought I was a spy? Boy, as a new lieutenant I had a heck of a time explaining that to my superiors.”

I leaned into him, giggling slightly. I did remember. Maybe I did get too nosey sometimes. But it had come in handy ever since we moved to Gentle Springs.

“Even so, I will be keeping an eye on you Mrs. Talbott. Getting someone to steal the map and reveal their purposes might help resolve things, but I don't want you getting hurt at all.” He kissed my ear and whispered, “I kind of want to keep you around, Neenie.”

I turned off the flashlight and gave him a real kiss before we headed back to the manor.

 

****

 

When we walked in with a much-relieved Jelly, and a more-anxious James, my dad was on the couch closest to the tree, alternating between watching Josie sleep, keeping Justin quiet, and trying to comfort Margo. He looked utterly and totally exhausted.

“Take a break, Dad. We're back.”

He acknowledged our presence, but kept looking at his granddaughter. “I could watch her sleep all the time. It reminds me of when you were her age.”

I kissed his forehead. “I know. But you look beat.” I turned to Margo. “Can I relieve him? Would you be OK with that?”

“By all means,” Margo said. She looked over at my dad as if she thought anything he would do or say might change the fate of the world. “Jeanine's right. We were so busy talking that I didn't realize how awful you looked.”

“Awful, eh?” grunted my dad. “I thought you believed me a handsome rogue.”

She tried to laugh, but regretted it immediately. Her shoulder, even with our best and regular attention, needed a real doctor to attend to it. “You'll be more handsome after a good night's sleep, Robert.”

He stood slowly, walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. “With a prescription like that, who could resist? Is that why they call it beauty sleep?” With that, he waved to the rest of us, got a good night hug from Justin and headed to his sleeping zone.

While Justin remained awake and James nearby, Margo made small talk about the weather, asked James how long to repair the generator or what might be involved, and asked how we'd like to spend the rest of our vacation on the island once the weather let up. In other words, she talked about everything except the parchments and the map. For some reason, she wanted that to be between her and me.

James went over to Justin under the tree, ostensibly to pray with him and then hug him. However, in the process of leaning against each other and talking, both fell asleep. If I hadn't kept my eye on her somehow, I would have sworn she gave them something to knock them out—so conveniently did their exhaustion fit her wishes.

“Finally!” she breathed. “I know Charlie had a chance to talk to you and explain some parts of the island and the letter my Mark found years ago.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “But I'm confused. Why all the secrecy about the letters and the legend? Most families would give their eyeteeth to be connected with someone so famous, or infamous, as the case may be. Yet, you and Charlie and the others act like the family could implode should the word get out.”

For several uncomfortable moments, she just looked at me. I knew she was weighing my ideas, but her expression made it look like she was weighing me in the balances and found me wanting. “I know what you're saying is true, for some people. But the Banets are taught from birth to focus on the good of the future and to ignore the sin of the past.”

Something in the way she said that made me think it was more than what she'd learned as a wife. “You had Banet roots, too, didn't you? You didn't just learn that attitude from years of marriage.”

She inclined her head ever so slightly. “You are nosey, aren't you?”

The use of that word set off warning bells. My voice tensed and got higher. “Nosey? I would prefer to think of myself as inquisitive.”

Margo sighed. “I didn't intend to offend you Jeanine. But someone else was talking about you today, and they used that word. It stuck with me. I do apologize.”

“Who said that? It could be important.”

She brushed it aside with a wave of her hand. “I don't know. Someone could have been talking with me, or I overheard it. I've been rather captive on this couch at the center of everything and have talked with just about everyone two or three times.”

I put my hand on her knee. “If you do remember, please tell me.”

She looked at me as if I had lost every little gray cell I possessed, but agreed. “If it's that important to you, I will try.” Margo then calmly removed my hand from her person and asked about what I had learned about the documents and the map. Only after we had finished talking, sipping on the hot cider that Juliana brought us, and I'd gone to my pile of blankets next to Josie did I realize that she had used my noticed curiosity as a tactic to deflect that same curiosity. She had never told me anything about her Banet side of the family.

 

****

 

My dreams didn't terrorize me the night of December twenty-sixth. I slept soundly. Perhaps too soundly. I usually wake up once for a pit stop, but not that night.

What woke me were loud, insistent bangs on the front door. “Coast Guard!”

Charlie, donning his virtual butler hat, headed off to answer the door.

While I watched him going that way, I picked myself off of the floor and stretched to wake up. I creaked from two nights in a row without a bed. If I knew that we would camp on Banet Island, I might have insisted on sleeping bags and ground pads. At least, the definite glint of sunlight streaming in the windows made it look possible to actually sleep in a bed and next to my husband tonight.

“Is it morning, Mommy?”

My movements woke Josie.

“It does look that way. And from what I can see, it looks like it might be a pretty one. I believe the storm's over. At least the officials made it here finally.”

Two men and one woman, all in blue uniforms, entered when Charlie opened the door. The woman, carrying a large bag which I assumed carried medical supplies, asked Charlie a question, and he pointed out the reclining form of Margo on the couch.

The men announced to the room at large that they were going to look at the body of William and examine it compared to the pictures they received from James. “Expect to be questioned at some point today. We also don't want anyone leaving the island until we are satisfied with the information at our disposal.”