Turning Tides (25 page)

I studied them all, friends and family and strangers, and took comfort in the knowledge that I had plenty of backup.

Before beginning, I reached for my magic, sending some of it out to the ocean and attaching it to the water molecules. I fed on its peace, letting it fill me with a calm certainty. Whatever happened in the next hour, whatever was revealed, I had to remember I was a water. I was Aidan Brook, descendent of the old ones, born from the earth’s first magic. It was what I carried in my veins, now and always, and I could not forget that. Not now.

I moved to the center of the room and waited until every eye was on me. No one spoke.

“Thank you all for attending the island’s first annual, one time only, murderer unmasking. It was a pretty exclusive invite, so I’m glad to see you could all make it. Quite simply, everyone in this room has either been a suspect for the killings or holds information that will help uncover the true killer. Or they’re related to me and I couldn’t keep them away,” I added.

Everyone who wasn’t a blood relation erupted at my words, filling the room with indignation and loud proclamations of innocence. I let them speak for a few seconds, then held up my hand.

“We’re here to learn who’s been killing waters. I have no idea why any of you would be opposed to that.” I looked at each person with the sort of sincerity that might fool someone who’s never seen an actual expression before. Everyone in the room recognized it as the threat it was. If they were vehemently against finding the killer, it only made them look guilty.

The room quieted again. Grams poured tea and coffee, as if she was hosting an afternoon salon rather than a murder investigation.

I looked at each person, trying to read them all. They appeared worried or annoyed, serious or amused, but none had a sign on their foreheads that said “Guilty” in blinking neon letters. I was just going to have to do this the old-fashioned way, then.

I smiled. “Shall we begin?”

Chapter 25

I spun in a small
circle, trying to look perfectly at ease while a roomful of people stared at me with expressions ranging from curious to downright hostile. “There’s this game I used to play with my aunts,” I said. “The object of the game was to determine who committed the murder, where, and with what weapon. Players did so by sharing information and through process of elimination. Well, we know the where for Edith Lake, at least, and we think we know the weapon.”

“It was fire, wasn’t it?” Lana interrupted. “I’m pretty sure that’s what we saw.” She glanced to David for confirmation.

“Yes, but that’s like saying someone was killed with a gun. It could have been a Smith & Wesson or a Glock. The trick is finding out the type of weapon and who used it.” I thought I sounded pretty convincing. Mainly, I was pleased I remembered two kinds of guns off the top of my head. “The point is we don’t know the who or the details of the how, which is why we’re all here today. Process of elimination through shared information.”

Everyone considered my words. Most of them even began to relax as they accepted my reasoning.

“Lana and David, I’m sure you understand why we need to consider you. You appeared on the island a day before bodies started dropping.”

David looked serious. Lana, as usual, looked mildly surprised.

Michael stood up and immediately sat back down. “I don’t understand why we’re wasting our time with waters, or even that stone. We know who did it, don’t we? It was a fire, and there are two in this room. One of them already confessed. Can’t we wrap this up before someone decides to blow me up next?”

Josiah only offered him a mild stare, but fire sparked from his fingers. My father wasn’t a man who lost control. He just wanted to mess with Michael. The councilman blanched, so I’d say it worked.

“Humor me,” I said. “Lana, did you kill anyone since arriving?”

“Kill? Oh, goodness no. Why would I do that? That would be a terribly mean thing to do. My karma would never recover.” She reached one shaking hand to her throat, wrapping her fingers around the crystal necklace she wore.

In truth, I had no evidence that would either exonerate or condemn Lana, but I’d also have an easier time believing a basket of puppies committed the murders than believing Lana was responsible. The bemused faces about the room suggested they felt similarly.

“And David, what about you?”

He gave a single shake of his head. Otherwise, his face was as immobile as the granite from which his powers were born.

Assuming, of course, he was a stone. There was still room for doubt.

I stared at him, my skepticism evident, until the room began to murmur questions.

“It would not be difficult for a fire to appear to be a stone, if he was motivated enough,” I reminded him. The quiet murmurs rose, one voice after another adding to the growing cacophony. “Vivian, would you please share what you’ve learned about David Flint?”

Heads swiveled to the quiet earth on the computer screen. “David was raised with his family in Hawaii.”

The voices became a roar, complete with pointed fingers. Sera and Josiah studied David with renewed interest, trying to place him. Vivian waited until the noise subsided before she continued.

“He lived there until he was in the fifth grade, when his mother died. At that time, he and his father moved to the mainland. They settled in North Dakota, but once David was old enough to pass as a human adult, he began moving. Frequently.”

While Vivian recited these facts, I watched David. His teeth clenched, tighter and tighter, until a small muscle in his jaw began to pulse.

“Anything notable about where he moved?”

David began to rise, but Lana reached for him, pulling him back. He sat, looking defeated.

“He went back to Hawaii, living not far from the Blais compound, in fact. Then Southern California for a time, then Texas. Most recently, he lived in Lake Tahoe.”

“Where he met me,” Lana interrupted. “That’s not a secret.”

Josiah peered at David. “It’s also where I was. I’ve spent time in each of those places when I was building new hotels. You aren’t stalking me, are you, young man?”

David glared, but refused to answer. He might just make this easy for me, after all.

“There are two issues on the table,” I said. “First, if we’re assuming Edith and Robin’s deaths weren’t random, then someone had a reason for killing those particular women. Second, someone chose to frame the fires for their deaths.”

Once again, I waited for the protests to die down. “I know they’re innocent, but don’t just take my word. When Edith died, everyone was happy to point the finger at Sera, and then Josiah, but they’ve all forgotten one key detail. Neither of them are a fraction as stupid as they’d need to be to commit these murders. If they were going to kill anyone, they wouldn’t light them on fire or blow them up, not when they were the only fires on an island full of waters. There’s something else going on here.”

I paused, hoping someone else would reach the same conclusion I had. My arguments would sound much more convincing if I wasn’t the only person who thought they sounded obvious.

Georgina jumped into the silence. “But why? None of us really know Sera, though I’m sure you’re lovely, dear. Why would any of us choose her to frame?”

“I think that was only the first part of a complicated plan.”

The room fell into silence, and I waited, attempting a dramatic pause. I caught Josiah’s eye. He looked downright intrigued. I was certain he’d already made the same leap I had.

Marie stared between Sera and Josiah. “Oh! I get it. You think someone either wanted Sera convicted, or they wanted a reason to bring Josiah to the island. Because he wouldn’t let his daughter be convicted without trying to save her, would he?”

Again, the room broke into quiet murmurs, but they sounded less indignant than before. People were beginning to think about these murders rather than just blame the nearest target.

I exhaled, daring to believe this might actually work. I reached into my purse and withdrew a rock the size of my fist.

“David, your history indicates an interest in Josiah Blais. Maybe even an obsession. We need confirmation you are what you say you are.” I set the rock on an end table and stepped back.

I didn’t want David to be guilty. He seemed like a nice guy, and anyone who could tolerate Lana for more than five minutes was far too patient to be a fire.

And yet, it made sense.

David glanced around the room and saw little support from the other elementals. Instead of arguing, he leaned forward and stared at the rock. A moment later, it crumbled into a hundred pieces.

The room sighed, both with frustration that a perfectly good suspect was innocent and with pleasure at the dramatic way he exonerated himself. I eliminated one of my possible scenarios, drawing a mental X through that picture.

David’s words were quiet, with only the thinnest hint of reproach. “There are rock formations in Hawaii, you know.” He put the rock back together, one piece after another merging until one would never know it had been broken, then he placed it in his jacket pocket.

Sera wasn’t done with him, though. “You’re not telling us everything. Don’t pretend it was a coincidence, you living everywhere he did.”

Though his hands clenched and released and his eyes held fear, David answered the question, chin jutting out in defiance. “I followed him because I hated him, and I wanted to kill him.”

Then again, maybe he could be a suspect for a bit longer.

“I didn’t know how. We all know what he is. One of the oldest of all the old ones, powerful and untouchable. I am a quarter stone. I couldn’t kill him without extensive planning, and so I followed him, from one city to another, trying to find a weakness.”

“Until you found one,” I said. “His daughter.”

David’s brows furrowed. “No. I never found one. I still have no idea how to kill him. I didn’t know he’d be here. I’ve been trying to get off the island since he arrived. I couldn’t bear to see him.” He looked around the room, eyes pleading for understanding, though he refused to meet Josiah’s gaze. “I wish I could let it go, but stones, well, we can be set in our ways, and I’ve wanted to kill him since I was ten years old. That will never change.”

I heard truth in his words, but I wasn’t ready to trust it, not yet.

Josiah watched him, much as one watches a pet capable of performing quality tricks. “What did I ever do to you?”

David’s eyes darkened, and one hand reached for the stone in his pocket, calling on his element for strength. “You killed my mother.”

Jaws dropped. Mine landed somewhere around my navel. Even Josiah looked taken aback. “I believe you’re confused. I don’t even know who you are.”

David met Josiah’s dark stare. “I’m the boy in the car.”

For the first time, Josiah looked bothered by David’s words. “That was years ago.”

“To you, perhaps.”

They might as well have been alone, so intently were they focused on each other. When Josiah pulled his attention back to the room, he did so with a forced smile. “This is between the boy and myself. It has nothing to do with the murders.”

“But could he be…?” I began, unsure how to finish the sentence in a room full of people. I feared saying the words “dual magic” aloud, lest someone draw the wrong—or right—connection.

“No,” said Josiah. The single word was terse, leaving no room for argument.

Sera’s head whipped between them, trying to read the unspoken meanings, but whatever truth the two were hiding, their faces offered no hint.

After a staring contest that seemed to last several days, David at last turned back to me. “I understand your suspicions. I am a stranger, and I freely admit to wishing harm on that man. However, that is between the two of us. The waters’ deaths aren’t on my conscience.”

It was hard to believe a man who admitted wanting my father dead was innocent, but his words were weighted with truth. While I’d been fooled time and time again by people who claimed innocence, the gravitas David carried made it difficult to doubt his words.

Plus, there was another suspect I still wanted to hear from.

Setting aside the question of David’s guilt, I again addressed the room. “Days ago, there were five council members, not counting my grandmother. Now, there are three.”

“I killed Rachel.” Everyone stared at Josiah, busy cleaning his nails with a letter opener. “It seems like a point worth clarifying. She threatened me, we fought, she died. I then said I killed the others to save Sera.” His voice gave nothing away. He seemed to believe his own words, having absorbed the necessary lie until it became the truth. I almost wished I could believe that truth, too.

“And what?” Michael sputtered. “Are we supposed to simply forget what you did?”

“Of course not. I will have a trial, when you have enough members. It’s worth noting, of course, that if you rush through my evidence as you did for Ms. Brook, the fire council would be quite displeased.”

No one in the room missed the threat. A particularly astute banana wouldn’t have missed the threat.

I glared at Josiah and Michael. Josiah held up his hands in mock surrender, but the twinkle in his eyes told me I was about as threatening as an angry toddler.

I did my best to keep the room focused. “So, we don’t need to worry about finding Rachel Strait’s killer. We do need to find Edith’s and Robin’s, however, and Josiah claims he didn’t kill them. As he’s confessed to the one death, can we assume he’d feel no compunction about admitting to the others?”

“If I killed them, absolutely.” So helpful, my father.

“Which leaves us with the council.”

Deborah stirred, her eyes slowly focusing back in the room. “There’s still the other fire. I think it was her.” Proclamation delivered, she disappeared once more into thoughts collected over thousands of years of life.

“It wasn’t Sera.” The council looked unconvinced by my certainty. “Fine, doubt me. How about this? If, in ten minutes, you still think it was her, I’ll willingly hand her over to you.”

Sera’s eyebrows ran for her hairline, but she said nothing. She was surprised, but she trusted me.

I could only hope I was right.

“Grams?” She stood and left the room.

“One at a time, then. Deborah is the oldest member of the council. She spends most of her time in Key West, only emerging for council meetings. She has nothing to gain by framing Josiah or Sera for the murders and, so far as I can tell, no motive for murdering Edith Lake.” Rivers blinked twice, her sole reaction. “Lydia, also, has no record of conflict with other council members.”

“Michael, on the other hand, has a long history of despising Edith, particularly after she convinced him to invest in a real estate deal that’s currently resting on the ocean floor off the coast of Dubai.” The man protested, but no one was listening. All eyes were on me, which was as it should be. I was about to have my big
Murder, She Wrote
moment, and I’d hate to waste it on the disinterested.

“However, hating Edith isn’t enough. As David has shown, wanting someone dead is a far cry from performing the act. Also, we must look at the full picture. Robin is dead. Someone tried to blow up Josiah, Sera, or me. Considering that the last time there was any crime on this island was when I shoplifted a candy bar in town, I don’t think I’m going out on a limb to say these are all connected. Michael might have despised Edith, but he had no reason to commit the other crimes.”

I studied every face carefully, looking for growing discomfort or even fear. Unfortunately, everyone looked nervous, the natural reaction when one is waiting to hear the identity of the worst killer the island’s ever seen.

I stretched out my water magic and felt a tapestry of power, every water in the room contacting the water fountain, the canals, the ocean. It was our security blanket, and it was our defense. We were ready.

Grams returned, handing me several objects she’d gathered.

“Oh, good. You found them. Did you test them?”

She nodded, then rested one hand against my cheek, her eyes gentle. The touch held all the words she dared not say in front of others. Be strong. Remember who I was.