Silent Witness (6 page)

Jennie focused her attention on Sarah. Something had happened out there, but what?
Think, McGrady. What did you see? It might be important.
But the moment had slipped into a black hole in her brain. She replayed the scene over and over in her mind as Sarah finished her session, and she, Gram, Maggie, and Sarah walked back to the cabins.

It wasn't until Jennie and Scott were swimming laps in the pool that it came to her. She stopped dead in the water and Scott plowed into her. He came up sputtering. “What's going on? Why'd you stop? You had a good ten feet on me.”

“She smiled!” Jennie grabbed his arms. “Sarah smiled!

“You're nuts,” Scott said, treading water.

Out of breath from the swim, Jennie gulped air and tipped her head back. “No …” she panted, “… it's true. She was out … with Delilah … had her back to us. Delilah turned and I saw it. I wasn't sure at first …”

“Probably a mirage. Or a nervous twitch.” He leaned back and floated on the water's surface. “I just saw Sarah this afternoon. She still has that creepy stare.”

Miffed, Jennie pushed his head under water and swam toward the sun deck at the deep end of the pool. Scott issued a challenge and raced after her. Jennie reached the deck ahead of him and was toweling off her hair when she heard him step out of the water. “I know what I saw …”

His arms went around her, and Jennie's feet left the ground. “Scott Chambers, put me down this instant.”

“Okay.” He let her go and she landed in the water. Jennie came up sputtering but ready for revenge. “You asked for it.” Scott was still laughing as he reached a hand down to help her out.

Jennie took his hand and with a hard yank pulled him in with her. They splashed at each other until Jennie called for a truce. Since their towels were soaked, they sat beside the pool and dangled their feet in the water while the sun dried their suits. “I did see her smile, Scott.” Jennie closed her eyes and leaned back on her arms.

“If you expect me to disagree with you again, you can forget it. I think I'm beginning to understand what they mean by ‘a woman scorned.'”

Jennie jabbed his arm.

“You are one cruel woman, McGrady.” Scott winced and massaged his muscles, then lay back against the wood decking. He lifted his arm to block the sun. “Anyway, what's the big deal? I mean, so what if she did smile? It doesn't seem to have made much difference.”

“It could mean she's getting better.” Or, it could mean she's faking. This second thought popped into her mind like a camera flash—too new and startling to reveal until it could be developed. It was definitely time to talk to Sarah Stanford.

Just before dinner Scott invited Jennie to go into Fort Myers for pizza with him and a couple of the other staffers. Even though pizza sounded great, she decided to look for Sarah instead.

When she arrived back at the cabin after her swim, Jennie learned that Maggie had gone into Fort Myers to pick up her brother at the airport and had asked Gram to look after Sarah while she was gone.

After a dinner of lasagna florentine (which Jennie discovered meant a dish created to foist spinach on unsuspecting kids), Jennie asked Gram if she could take Sarah for a walk on the beach. “It might be fun for her, even if she doesn't …” Jennie paused, unsure of what to say.

“I think that's a wonderful idea,” Gram replied. “I need to finish going over my notes and get them into the computer.”

“Great, but how do I … I mean, how can I get her to come with me?”

“Just take her hand. She'll go along.”

Like an obedient puppy
, Jennie thought sadly. Sarah followed Jennie down the path behind the cabin to the beach. Wanting to assure their privacy, she led Sarah away from the compound and, after about five minutes of walking, dropped to the sand. Sarah had stopped a few feet away and stood staring into the sea. A light breeze ruffled the skirt of her pink sundress, reminding Jennie of a pastel painting.

“You can sit down if you want,” Jennie said. When the girl didn't move, Jennie shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever.” She glanced at Sarah, then fixed her gaze on a sailboat in the distance. Jennie wasn't sure where to start and took a few minutes to gather her thoughts.

“Your mom told us about your dad's murder,” she blurted out finally. “And that you were there when it happened. It must have been awful for you.” Jennie picked up a pebble and tossed it in the water.

“My dad's gone too. He disappeared five years ago. He worked for the FBI, and they told us his plane had gone down and that he was dead. Afterwards I felt numb, like an empty shell. My body was there, but I wasn't—you know what I mean?” Jennie drew circles in the sand with her fingers.
What are you waiting for, McGrady? She's not going to answer you.
She looked up at Sarah and went on. “I don't know why I'm telling you this, except … well, I guess I'd like to help. And I wanted you to know I understand … I mean … I couldn't even begin to understand what it would be like to see somebody murdered—especially if it was your father …”
Oh shut up, McGrady, you're making a mess of things.

Sarah turned and walked toward her, then sat on the sand at her left. The vacant look had disappeared. A tear trickled down her cheek and dropped onto her sundress, turning the spot it touched into a deep rose.

At that moment, Jennie heard a whisper so quiet it was barely audible above the lapping waves.

“You know, don't you?”

Jennie's heart caught in her throat. She closed her eyes, expecting that when she opened them the voice would have been a figment of her imagination. When her eyes opened and she saw that Sarah was waiting for a response, Jennie's mouth gaped open and she nodded. “I wasn't sure. At the airport, I thought I saw something in your eyes. Then, when you were swimming with Delilah this afternoon, I saw you smile.”

“You won't tell anyone.” It wasn't a question but a statement.

“Who'd believe me? You really put on a good act. What I don't understand is why.”

A man's shout interrupted them. “How could you leave her with strangers?” The voice came from the cabins. “Especially without adult supervision! This whole thing was a crazy idea. Sarah doesn't need dolphin therapy. It's expensive and risky.”

Jennie looked in the direction of the angry voice. Maggie and the man she'd seen at the airport were running toward them. “Tim, be reasonable.”

Jennie looked back at Sarah, who'd turned to stone. You won't tell anyone. Sarah's haunting words lingered in her mind. She's afraid. And if Jennie's suspicions were right, she had good reason to be. If the wrong person learned Sarah could talk, and could identify the person who really killed John Stanford, Sarah could be in serious danger. “Don't worry,” Jennie murmured. “I won't tell.” When Maggie and Tim approached, Jennie got to her feet. Tim squatted to the ground and picked Sarah up in his arms. “I don't know what you're up to, young lady,” he barked in Jennie's direction, “but don't you ever take Sarah out here again.” He gave Maggie an I'll-talk-to-you­later look and strode back toward the cabins.

“I'm sorry, Maggie,” Jennie offered, still stunned by Tim's reaction. “I didn't know bringing Sarah out here would be a problem.”

“No, I'm sorry. Tim's so afraid something will happen to her he gets a little crazy … but he means well.” Maggie raked her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face. “I'm sure Sarah enjoyed her visit with you. And don't worry about Tim. He'll settle down.” Maggie shook her head and smiled. “Tim's like an M&M, all crusty on the outside but soft and sweet in the center.”

Obviously you've never heard of peanut M&Ms
, Jennie felt like saying. Jennie did, however, intend to talk to Gram.

She found Gram curled up on one end of the sofa reading. When Jennie stormed in, Gram set aside her book and reading glasses. “I take it you've had a pleasant chat with Sarah's uncle.” Gram patted the empty space beside her.

“Very funny. That guy is some piece of work. Did he talk to you?” Jennie kicked off her sandals, plopped down next to Gram, and stretched her legs over the coffee table.

“Yelled,” Gram corrected. “His exact words were, ‘A woman your age should know better than to entrust a child like Sarah to a …' what did he call you … oh yes, an ‘unpredictable teenager.' How about you?”

Jennie recounted the beach scene, being careful not to reveal Sarah's secret. It was too soon for that. Besides, Sarah had confided in her, and there was so much more Jennie wanted to know.

“What do you make of it, Gram? I mean, doesn't it seem strange to you that an uncle would be that upset?”

“He did overreact a bit, didn't he?”

“A bit? That's like saying the nuclear bomb was a bit explosive.”

Gram chuckled. “I wouldn't go quite that far.”

Jennie tucked her legs up under her, turning so she directly faced her grandmother. “Either the guy's a certified nut case or …” Another possibility occurred to her. It was a frightening thought but one worth exploring.

“Or …?” Gram prompted.

Jennie got to her feet and began pacing from the couch to the kitchenette. “I know this sounds really wild, Gram, but suppose Tim wasn't overreacting, but
over-acting
?”

“I'm not sure I follow you.”

“Okay.” Jennie stopped in front of Gram and dropped to the floor. “We know Tim is worried that the real murderer is still at large. We also know he doesn't want Sarah out here working with the dolphins. He claims it's dangerous. What if all that is an act to cover his real motive? What if he wants everyone to believe he's concerned about Sarah, when he's really concerned about himself?”

“Are you suggesting Tim had something to do with the murder?”

“It makes sense, doesn't it? Why would Tim be so suspicious if he didn't know something more than what the police turned up? Maybe he doesn't want Sarah here because he's afraid she'll remember who really killed her dad.”

“Hmmm. An interesting point.” Gram rose, reached for her empty teacup, and headed toward the kitchen. “Want some?” she asked.

Jennie shook her head.

Gram filled her cup and popped it into the microwave. “If Tim
were
the murderer, it might explain Sarah's emotional and mental reaction. If she really loved her uncle, it would be difficult, maybe even impossible, for her to believe he could have done it. I've heard of cases where people have been so shocked by their experience, they've completely repressed it and go on as though it never happened. Sort of a hysterical amnesia. With Sarah, the reality may have been so terrible, she shut the door to the outside world.”

“So you think Tim is the murderer?”

“It's possible, but not likely. For one thing, what motive would Tim have? From what Maggie has told me, Tim and John Stanford were close friends, and Tim took his death quite hard.” The microwave beeped, and Gram stopped to pull out the cup and drop in a tea bag.

“They could have had an argument.”

“True, but according to Maggie, Carl saw the killer. If it had been Tim, Carl would have recognized him, mask or no. His description of the killer didn't fit Tim at all.

Besides, if Tim killed John and was afraid Sarah would reveal his identity, wouldn't he have killed her too?”

Jennie's bubble of pride at solving the case began to deflate as Gram poked holes in her theory. “So you don't think he did it?”

“I didn't say that. Everyone connected could be a suspect—Tim, certainly, and even Maggie.” Gram brought her tea into the living room and eased herself onto the couch. “Don't look so disappointed. You brought up a valid argument. And I agree, this overreacting, or over-
acting
uncle of Sarah's bears watching.”

The next morning Jennie and Gram joined Scott, Debbie, and Ken on the docks to help feed the dolphins. Debbie gave each of them a different colored bucket filled with fish, on which a dolphin's name was painted.

“Watch this.” Scott held up Delilah's red pail and banged it a couple of times with a spoon. “They can tell which pail is theirs by the color.” Before he'd finished his sentence, Delilah appeared at the dock, raised herself halfway out of the water, and made some clicking sounds. “You hungry this morning, baby?” Scott asked. He tossed her a fish, which she caught in her mouth, swallowed whole, and nodded for more.

Jennie and Gram followed his example with Samson and Splash, while Debbie and Ken fed the others. After feeding the dolphins what seemed like a hundred pounds of fish, they rinsed the buckets and headed for the large warehouse, which housed a laboratory and giant walk-in refrigerator filled with frozen fish. There, as Ken had explained the day before, they received new fish shipments every couple of days and prepared fish for each dolphin by adding vitamins and minerals and medications they might need.

When the buckets had been properly cleaned and stored away, Gram and Jennie returned to the dock to observe another of Sarah's sessions with Debbie and Delilah. While they waited for Sarah and Maggie to arrive, Debbie showed them several new hand signals to which Samson responded beautifully. Delilah, however, ignored them. “Looks like she doesn't feel like showing off for you today,” Debbie said, signaling the dolphin to approach the dock. She reached out to pet Delilah and cooed. “You having an off day? Well, let's make it easy for you. Why don't you wave to them?” Debbie signaled her, and Delilah backed up, lifted her tail out of the water, and waved it back and forth.

“Isn't it amazing what they seem to understand?” Gram said.

Maggie, Tim, and Sarah had come up behind them.

They all agreed, except for Tim, who leaned against the post and scowled. “I don't know what you're so excited about. You can get the same response from a dog.”

Maggie patted his arm. “Ease up, Tim. You promised you'd come and watch with an open mind.”

After lowering Sarah into the water, Debbie signaled Delilah, who raced toward them, then abruptly turned. Jennie heard Maggie's scream as the dolphin's tail came within about an inch of Sarah's face. “What's she doing?” Jennie gasped.

Tim pushed past them and leaned out over the dock. “That's it. I've seen enough. Get Sarah out of there this instant.”

“Of course,” Debbie said, guiding Sarah toward the ladder. “Delilah's never done anything like this before. I don't understand …”