The Weekenders (56 page)

“That's the sheriff's car,” Riley reported. And as she watched, Sheriff Schumann, in a safety-yellow rain slicker with
LAW ENFORCEMENT
emblazoned across the front, dashed up onto the porch.

“Come on in,” Riley said.

The sheriff looked at the family members assembled around the table. “I'm assuming y'all have gotten the texts and alerts about the hurricane?”

“We have,” Riley assured him. “And I'm just getting ready to book our seats on the ferry.”

“Better hurry,” he said. Then, turning away from the family, he placed his lips near Riley's ear. “Uh, listen, can I speak to you in private? It's about your husband.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me now,” Riley said impatiently. “This is my family.”

“We followed up on that tip you gave us. About Melody Zimmerman? Now, I don't know how you got your information, but it turns out you were right about her. We checked the real estate records, and sure enough, we found out that last month she bought an oceanfront condo in Wrightsville Beach for eight hundred thousand dollars, but she only took out a four-hundred-thousand-dollar loan. Which got us to wondering how somebody affords that on an assistant bank manager's salary. We took a look at that aunt of hers, whose house she'd been living in here on the island, and it turns out she'd been embezzling money from the old lady's trust account.”

“I'll be damned,” Evelyn said. “That sweet little thing at the bank was an embezzler?”

“That's not all,” the sheriff said, looking chagrined. “After she was charged with embezzlement, she wanted to make a deal, so she admitted that she helped your husband set up those dummy corporations to defraud Coastal Carolina Bank. She forged your name on the mortgage documents for your house. And she pocketed hundreds of thousands of dollars in commissions from the bank for generating all those loans the bank later had to write off.”

Riley nodded. “Did she admit to killing Wendell?”

“She admits she was having an affair with him, and to cooking up the loan schemes, but she insists she didn't kill him.”

“I don't believe her,” Riley said. “She's been lying about her involvement all along. Who else would have a reason to kill him?”

“That's what we intend to find out,” the sheriff said. “Her story is that they were together that Thursday night, at your house on Sand Dollar Lane. He came over on his own boat, because he didn't want anybody to know he was meeting her there. Your husband changed the locks on the house, she told us, because of the foreclosure. She says they, uh, had relations there, and afterward, he told her that the real estate deals were falling apart, and he was afraid if you went ahead with the divorce, you'd find out about his financial misdeeds. He told Melody that when he met you at the ferry that next day he was going to beg you to take him back.”

“So that's why she killed him,” Riley said.

“She says not. Says they had a big fight because she had committed multiple crimes and put her job on the line for him. He shook her off and said he was leaving, so she went back inside your house and packed up her things and then went home to her own place. She insists that was the last time she saw him, and he was very much alive.”

“She's a liar,” Riley said flatly.

“Maybe not,” the sheriff said. “She claims that after she went inside, she heard Wendell arguing with somebody. A man.” He glanced over toward the table. “I intend to find out the truth, and charge that person with murder.”

“You won't find the killer here,” Evelyn Nolan called.

“Not tonight, no,” he said. “But the real reason I stopped in here was to make sure you all understand that this evacuation order is mandatory. I'm keeping track of everybody who is on this island, and we will be counting heads tonight, so we don't have to count bodies tomorrow, after that storm hits. Understand?”

“Perfectly,” Riley said.

 

65

Scott stood in the doorway, watching the police cruiser's taillights recede into the distance through a curtain of rain. They heard the words “mandatory evacuation” again just before he closed the door.

He sat down at the dining room table and looked at Riley. “The voice Melody heard that night at the house was mine.”

“Yours?” Billy said. “What were you doing there?”

“I'd just gotten the news from the hotel people that they were pulling out of the Pirate's Point deal. Wendell already knew. He'd known for some time. I'd sunk my own money into that project—because he assured me if I didn't sweeten the pot, the deal was doomed. I think he probably knew it was doomed from the start. I got over to the island that afternoon, determined to confront him, and I saw him with that woman, Melody. It was obvious that they were together, literally. I followed them to Sand Dollar Lane, and when I walked around to the back of the house, they were out on the balcony outside your bedroom, Riley. You know how voices carry in the night? I heard almost every word of what they were fighting about.”

“In my bedroom,” Riley said quietly.

“I waited until he came out of the house again. I was furious. He'd screwed me, screwed her, screwed you, Riley. I grabbed him by the arm and told him I knew about everything, including the affair. I threatened to tell you about Melody, about all of it.”

“Why didn't you?” Riley asked.

Scott shook his head and looked away.

“I think I know,” Billy said. “He told you about how I killed Cal, didn't he?”

“Who's Cal?” Evelyn asked. “Billy, you never killed anybody. What's he talking about?”

“Cal. He was my AA sponsor, Mama. Cal got me sober, saved my life, and then to repay him, I killed him, drunk driving. Drove my old Delta eighty-eight off the road with him in the passenger seat and wrapped it around a tree.”

Billy's hand clutched the tumbler of vodka. He stared down at the clear liquid, then suddenly pushed it away. “Cal was killed instantly. I didn't know what else to do, so I called Wendell. He came out and saw what happened. I was so drunk I could hardly stand up. But Wendell knew what to do. He cleaned up my mess and made it all go away.”

“For a price,” Scott said.

“He never said a word for the longest time. Then, he came to me last year, told me he had a great ‘investment opportunity.' He called it a loan, but we both knew what it was. I gave him everything I had, all the money in my trust fund.”

“He blackmailed you?” Riley said.

“Both of us,” Scott corrected her. “That night at your house, when I threatened to tell you about the affair with Melody, he said if I told anybody, he'd go to the police with what he knew about Billy. He had proof. Cell phone pictures of Billy, passed out behind the wheel of the Delta eighty-eight, and pictures of Cal, who'd been thrown clear of the car.”

Riley's eyes met Scott's. His were a pale blue, red-rimmed with worry and fatigue. “Did you kill Wendell?”

“No,” Scott said. “I wanted to. I could have, but I didn't.”

“Oh, my God.” Billy clutched Scott's hand. “I was sure it was you. I was terrified it was you.”

“And I thought you'd killed him,” Scott said sadly. “Your drinking was totally out of control.”

“I don't understand any of this,” Evelyn said. “If Billy didn't kill Wendell, and Scott didn't kill him, who did?” She turned to Riley. “You'd never.”

“No,” Riley said. “It wasn't me. And I know it wasn't you, Mama. You loved Wendell in spite of everything.”

“That bastard!” Evelyn said. “He tried to ruin my family. And he nearly succeeded.”

“I still think it was Melody,” Riley said. “Who else?”

“Helloooo!” Roo said, pounding the table with her heavy water glass. “Why does everybody always act like I'm not here? I killed Wendell, and I'm not sorry. You can send me to hell or to prison, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Oh, Roo,” Evelyn said. “Don't be so dramatic.”

“What? You think I couldn't do it? Think I'm too old?”

“Roo?” Riley said.

“He bulldozed the wildlife sanctuary,” Roo explained. “All those birds in the rookery, their nests, their eggs, all of it. He didn't give a goddamn about anybody but himself, the selfish bastard.”

Lightning crackled outside, and they heard the wind whipping tree branches, the rusty crackle of palm fronds beating against the side of the old house, and the low rumble of thunder.

“I was going to take Maggy over there, Memorial Day weekend, show her the nests,” Roo said. “But half of it was gone! I knew right away that it was Wendell. I tried to call him, but he wouldn't answer his phone. That night, I'd borrowed Evelyn's golf cart. One of my birding friends told me there was an endangered wood stork nesting in a live oak on the beach side of your property, Riley, and I took my telephoto lens because I wanted to get a picture of it. I didn't even know Wendell was on the island. I couldn't find the wood stork, but as I was walking up from the beach, I heard a commotion, and I looked up and saw people on that balcony at your house. They were having a huge fight, and that girl was screaming and carrying on and threatening to kill herself. When I looked through my telephoto, I saw it was Wendell, with that girl from the bank in town. They were both about half naked. I was so shocked, I didn't know what to do!”

“Why didn't you just leave and mind your own business?” Evelyn asked.

“I intended to,” Roo shot back. “I kind of snuck back to where I'd parked the golf cart, and that's when I saw Scott. He and Wendell were having it out. I heard Wendell tell Scott about Billy killing that man. And then he said he'd go to the police and tell them about Billy if Scott didn't shut up about his affair with the girl.

“I watched you leave,” Roo told Scott. “And then I saw Wendell go into the house. He came out a few minutes later and got in the golf cart and left. I followed him. He never even saw me. Nobody ever notices an old woman like me. He parked in the ferry lot, but walked over to the marina. I rode Evelyn's cart right up behind him, and he still didn't see me. His boat was tied up there, and he was fiddling with the lines.”

Another jagged streak of lighting lit up the sky outside the dining room windows, followed by the sickening crack of a tree limb, and a loud thud as it struck the ground close by. The overhead lights flickered, then went out.

“There goes the electricity,” Evelyn murmured. “Riley, I think maybe you're right. Maybe we should think about getting out.”

“Could you please let me finish my story?” Roo said peevishly.

“By all means,” Evelyn said.

“I rode up right behind him and got out of that cart, and I was just so mad, I couldn't see straight. I told him I knew he'd bulldozed half the wildlife sanctuary and I was going to call the Department of Natural Resources and report him.

“He just laughed and called me an old bag and said I should go ahead, because nobody cared, and it was the family's land, and he could do what he wanted with it. So, then, I told him I knew all about his girlfriend, and how he'd borrowed money from everybody in the family. I said I was going to go to Riley and tell her everything. He thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He laughed and laughed! And then he said everybody knew I was senile.”

Roo turned to Riley. “It was the last straw. He was still laughing when I grabbed the first thing handy.” She gave Evelyn an apologetic shrug. “It was your seven iron. I grabbed it and I swung it, and I bashed Wendell as hard as I could in the back of his head.”

She lifted her water glass and took a sip, then patted her lips with a napkin. “He looked so surprised! Then he was laying there on the seawall, and I was afraid somebody would see him. Lord knows I couldn't lift him, or try to hide the body, so I just sort of rolled him over toward the boat. Then I got the anchor line and tied it around his waist, as best I could, and rolled him off the seawall into the water.”

“Oh, my God, Roo,” Evelyn said, her eyes round with shock. “You really did it? You killed Wendell?”

“With your seven iron,” Roo admitted. “I didn't plan anything. It just happened. After that, I parked Evelyn's golf cart in the ferry lot and drove Wendell's cart back to the house. That girl was gone by then. I used the garage door opener that was in the cart to park it there, then I let myself out. I took Wendell's cell phone, and I walked down to the beach and pitched the phone out into the water. Then I walked back to the marina, and got in Evelyn's cart and drove home, and went to bed and acted like nothing had happened.”

She turned to her sister-in-law. “I'm sorry about your seven iron, Evvy. I buried it out behind the garden shed, under that big Nikko Blue hydrangea.” And then she looked at Riley. “But I'm really not sorry about Wendell. You and Maggy are better off with him gone. He was evil, honey. Pure evil.”

 

66

O
ooowwwww.
This time Mr. Banks ran down the stairs and to the front door, howling a protest at the shrill siren screaming through the din of the storm. “Looks like the sheriff's back,” Billy said, half standing. All heads turned toward the glass storm door and the red lights flashing atop the police cruiser.

“I guess I'll just go on and surrender right now,” Roo said.

“Everybody stay right where you are,” Evelyn said. “This is my home, and I'll handle this. You just keep quiet, Roo. You hear?”

But before she could get to the door, they heard the loudspeaker again. “This is Sheriff Schumann. You folks need to get off the island. Now.” As they watched, the cruiser did a three-point turn and sped back in the direction it had come from.

Riley reached for her phone but hesitated. “Everybody go get whatever you want to take to Southpoint. I'm calling the ferry and praying it's not too late. Mama, could you go see about helping Maggy get ready? Make sure she has her kit and enough meds for two or three days? Billy, can you and Scott—after you run home to get your stuff—can you meet us back here to make sure we've got everything ready to go? And could you run by Parrish's house and tell her we're all bugging out?”