A Death on the Island Read online

  “Jimmy,” he started, sounding as if he were talking to an old friend. Which, I supposed, he probably was. Everyone on the island knew one another, and Shep and Jimmy were both longtime islanders. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to arrest you—”

  Before Shep could even take a step, Jimmy had taken off running across the yard, heading for the fence that separated Robert Baines’ yard and Mason’s property. Shep, finally realizing I’d been telling the truth, cursed and sprinted after Jimmy, yelling for him to stop. Jimmy, however, ran as hard as he could for the fence line, leaning into his sprint, not wasting even a second to turn around and see where Shep was.

  As they ran, it became clear that Jimmy was outpacing Shep. Even though Shep and Jimmy were similar heights, both of them with incredibly long legs, Jimmy was much thinner than Shep, making him quicker. Shep seemed to realize this, so he stopped, bent to one knee, and pulled out his firearm.

  “One last chance, Jimmy,” he shouted, leveling his weapon at the man.

  Rather than stopping, Jimmy threw himself even harder into his run, clearly hoping he could outrun a bullet.

  As it turned out, he couldn’t.

  A single shot rang out, crisp and clear, cutting through the wind and the rain, and Jimmy fell.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away. I didn’t care what Jimmy had done. I didn’t want to watch him die.

  Shep ran to Jimmy, rolled him over onto his stomach, and cuffed him.

  “Relax,” Shep said, hauling the weeping man across the yard. “I hit you in the leg. You’ll be fine.”

  Just then, two deputies came from around the side of the house and ran towards us. I stood dumbly off to the side as Shep explained what had happened and handed Jimmy off to the two men, instructing them to find the two doctors.

  It took me a minute to register that the two doctors Shep was referring to were Shanda and Ward, who were just inside the house.

  “Oh, they’re inside,” I said. “They were guests at the party.”

  Immediately, one of the deputies split off and ran towards the house to fetch Shanda and Ward while the other led a pale, limping Jimmy across the lawn.

  It was almost bizarre how swiftly Jimmy’s demeanor had changed. Just before Shep’s arrival, he’d been haughty, almost enjoying the power he was wielding. Now, though, he slunk away in cuffs, his head down, not even attempting one last withering glare at me. He looked pathetic, and I wondered how I ever could have been scared of him.

  “What’s going on?” a voice called.

  I turned around in time to see Mason running from the door that led to the glass hallway, his eyes wide, practically glowing in the dark, the rest of the guests following him.

  “We saw the police car out front, but didn’t see Shep. And then we heard a gunshot and an officer came in to fetch Shanda and Ward,” Ethel said, relaying the events back to Shep and I as if we hadn’t just lived it.

  Shep held up a hand to calm the crowd and explained the situation to them. I was grateful for his presence, relieved that I could sit back and let someone else take charge now.

  “Why did you sneak off again without telling me?” Mason asked, his tone scolding.

  “It wouldn’t have been sneaking off if I’d told you I was going to do it,” I said, smiling, though Mason didn’t smile back. He apparently didn’t enjoy my attempt at humor.

  “I’m sorry,” I added. “I thought I was making a big deal out of nothing, and I was only planning on being gone for five minutes.”

  “Next time you decide to go hunt down a murderer, would you please give me some advance warning?” Mason asked, nudging me in the side with his elbow. “I’m tired of arriving after the big showdown.”

  I remembered how relieved I’d been to see Mason in the moments after my fight with Martin Little. How safe I’d felt when he’d pulled me into his side and helped lead me back up the trail from the beach to the bed and breakfast. Craving that same feeling, I scooted closer to him until I could feel the warmth of his body against my arm. Almost as if he could read my mind, Mason wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulder, his fingers massaging my bare upper arm. Not wanting to break the spell we were under, I said nothing and leaned my head onto his shoulder.

  Shep had just finished filling everyone in on the situation as he understood it. There were obviously still gaps in his knowledge, but I knew I’d have time to fill him in later. As I was looking around at the guests and their shocked faces, I realized one was missing from their number.

  “Where’s Samuel?” I asked, remembering that he wasn’t entirely innocent in this affair either.

  Richard stepped forward. “We were in the entrance hall when I saw Shep arrived. Samuel said he’d go fetch the other guests, but he must have run.”

  I looked at Shep, nervous.

  “We’ll find him,” he said. “The ferries are closed until morning, and we’ll have people there looking for him. No matter what, he won’t be getting off this island until he is thoroughly questioned.”

  Relief washed over me.

  “Speaking of which,” Shep said, “I’m going to need a statement from each of you before you can leave here today.”

  Ethel checked her wristwatch. “But it’s 2 AM already.”

  Shep nodded. “And if you want to be home before lunch, we better get started.”

  Everyone groaned, exhaustion plain in all of their features, and turned to walk back into the house, but Mason and I stayed behind, looking out over the lawn where I’d just fought yet another murderer. The rain had slowed to a mist, and the thick cloud cover that had washed the sky in a flat gray all evening was breaking up, swaths of stars peeking through.

  “You might be able to convince someone to move that fence now,” I said, thinking of Mason’s complaints earlier in the evening that the fence blocked his view of the ocean.

  Mason sighed. “Was that really my biggest concern a few hours ago? It seems ridiculous now, doesn’t it?”

  I chuckled. “Most things seem ridiculous in the face of death.”

  Mason shifted until he was standing in front of me, his other arm resting on my shoulder, as well.

  “This doesn’t,” he said, his dark brown hair falling forward over one of his eyes. “This seems more important than ever.”

  My heart spluttered in my chest not for the first time that night, but this time I enjoyed the sensation. The warm prickling under my skin that left me itching for him.

  All night long, the burden of solving the case alone had been heavy. I hadn’t wanted to bring anyone else to danger over my theories, so I’d tried to solve them on my own, and it had nearly cost me my life. Not to mention, seeing Daniel fawn over Julia all night had made me jealous. Not because I still wanted to be with Daniel, because I decidedly did not want to be with or near him ever again, but because I’d needed someone to fawn over me. I needed someone to check in that I was alright, that the events of the night hadn’t been too much to bear. I needed someone to care.

  And here was Mason. Caring.

  He’d opened up to me immensely over the course of the night, more than I’d thought him capable of, and I realized how safe I felt with him.

  Mason had been the first person to find me after my fight to the death with Martin Little on the beach. He’d led me back to my house and waited until the police arrived. And even now, after wrestling with Jimmy in the mud, barely escaping with my life, Mason could almost make me forget.

  “You’re right,” I said. “This seems incredibly important.”

  I stepped forward into the circle of his body, and delighted in the way his lips trembled at my closeness. Seeing Mason nervous was a new experience, and I intended to savor it.

  Slowly, I rose to my tiptoes until our faces were level, and I leaned in. He caught my lips with his own expertly, as if we’d done it a thousand times before, and in the same grass where only moments before I’d been pinned to the ground, fearing for my life, I nestled into the warm embrace of anot
her, much kinder man, and let him take care of me.

  Epilogue

  Page texted me several times over the next few days, letting me know that she and Blaire were doing well, and reminding me over and over again that they’d be coming back on the Friday evening ferry. She said that Blaire was over the moon excited about her new school, and they’d gone to the Galleria for some seriously extravagant school shopping, despite her barely being able to afford it. Page and Blaire’s relationship had been slightly rocky ever since Page and Blaire’s father got divorced, and I didn’t want to be the person to ruin their girl’s week trip with talk of more murders and my second near-death experience in as many months, so I stayed quiet about the events of Robert Baines’ party, thinking I’d tell them when they arrived back on the island.

  Even in the face of the island wide blackout and flooding, the entire island had been abuzz with nothing but news of the party and the events that had transpired there. Jimmy’s Daily Catch had been closed since the party, and everyone was sad to see one of the few good restaurants on the island closed, though they were relieved to know a murderer was off the streets. As far as I was concerned, though, the island was split into two camps: the first believed that I was a hero who should be rewarded with a medal or a ceremony of some kind, and the second believed that I was a no-good troublemaker who left death and despair in my wake.

  Even when the police eventually captured Samuel trying to escape the island and extracted a full confession of his own slight involvement in Jimmy’s deeds, people’s opinions of my meddling weren’t altered. So, that was pretty fun. Mason helped me navigate the slightly more vocal islanders, teaching me the hermit ways he’d picked up when the island had wrongly believed him to be the person who murdered his ex-girlfriend. I did my grocery shopping as soon as the stores opened, and only answered the front door when I was expecting a visitor.

  Now that Page and Blaire were coming home, though, I’d had no choice but to leave the safety of my house and stand on the dock in full view of the other islanders, who apparently had no issues with openly staring at people.

  “Hey,” a quiet voice said.

  I looked up, expecting either an admirer there to congratulate me on solving another murder mystery or a dissenter there to tell me to get off the island and go back where I came from.

  What I found—or rather, who I found—instead was Matthew Pelkey, the son of Greg and Tillie and the boyfriend of Blaire.

  “Hey, Matthew,” I said, relief clear in my voice.

  “You’ve had an exciting week,” he said.

  I chuckled. “No kidding. How are your parents holding up?”

  By the time I’d left Robert Baines’ mansion at nearly 10 AM, Greg Pelkey was royally hungover from his very long night of drinking, and Tillie, as expected, was leaning against a wall in the entrance hall with a cigarette pinched between her thin lips.

  Matthew shook his head. “I’m not even sure they remember most of the night. They don’t seem to think the evening was a very big deal. I keep asking them what happened, but they don’t say much beyond, ‘two people died and the fish was dry.’”

  To be fair, it was easy for me to forget that Greg and Tillie were even at the party. They had kept to themselves, and never strayed too far from the bar cart. I’d even suspected that it would have been easy to convince them that the murders had been nothing more than a drunken dream and had never actually happened.

  Not wanting to get into the details of the party, I nodded. “They about summed it up,” I said.

  Matthew groaned. “Not you too. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me more.”

  I shrugged, and Matthew turned away from me, annoyed, and stared quietly at the ever-approaching ferry.

  When Page and Blaire disembarked, Blaire dropped her suitcase and sprinted for Matthew as if they were in a romantic movie. He scooped her up in a hug, and they twirled. They actually twirled.

  Page rolled her eyes and grabbed Blaire’s suitcase, apologizing to the people who had nearly tripped over it, and then made her way towards me.

  I waved and smiled, surprised at how excited I was to see her after only a week apart. However, Page did not return my enthusiasm. As soon as she saw me, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a hard, flat line.

  “How was the trip?” I asked cheerily, thinking that perhaps Page and Blaire had another argument on the ferry and that was why Page was so cool.

  “It was fine,” Page said, her words short and clipped. “I didn’t attend a murderous dinner party and then neglect to tell my sister about it. How was your week?”

  My stomach dropped. I’d intended to tell her almost immediately, but I figured I had a little bit of time.

  “Who told you?” I asked, wincing.

  “An old woman on the ferry,” Page said, practically fuming. “I could hardly believe the story she was telling me, and then she mentioned that the woman who caught the killer was the same woman who solved the murders of Maggie Summerfield and Nathaniel Sharpe. You can imagine my embarrassment when I assured her that couldn’t be true because that woman was my sister, and she would have told me if she’d almost been killed. The woman insisted, and told me the entire island was talking about how brave Piper Lane is.”

  “I’m sorry, Page. I was going to tell you, I just—”

  “You just like keeping ginormous secrets from me? You just love putting yourself in horrible danger? You just want your sister to have a heart attack?”

  Suddenly, Page launched herself at me, and for a second I flinched, thinking she was so angry she’d decided to attack me. But then, she wrapped her yoga-toned arms around my shoulders and squeezed aggressively hard.

  “Next time you decide to get wrapped up in a murder investigation, DON’T. Okay?” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and holding me at arm’s length, her eyes stern. With that expression, she looked remarkably like our mother, thought I’d never tell her that. Page wouldn’t find it to be much of a compliment.

  I laughed. “I didn’t have much of a decision in the matter, but I’ll at least be sure to let you know when it happens next time.”

  Page sighed. “That’s a step in the right direction.”

  She turned her attention away from me and towards where Blaire and Matthew were locked in a passionate kiss, acting as though she’d just returned from a years long sea voyage. “Blaire, please wrap it up. I’m tired.”

  Blaire stopped kissing Matthew long enough to shoot her mom an annoyed glare, and then dove back in.

  “She’s going to need some serious lip balm when she’s done,” I said.

  Page laughed. “You should have heard her going on and on about how much she missed him. It was absurd.”

  “At least she’s making herself at home here,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m glad she likes it here,” Page said, grabbing her suitcase. I took Blaire’s, and we headed for the car. “When are we going to make ourselves at home here?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, thinking of the bed and breakfast, which was nearly finished and ready for opening day. “We are starting a business. It seems as if we are pretty ‘at home.’”

  “I mean in the same way Blaire has,” Page said, hitching her thumb over her shoulder at the young lovebirds. “When are we going to meet men?”

  “You want to meet a man?” I asked, surprise coloring my voice. Last I knew, Page was still rather hung up on the idea of being with Blaire’s father. She wasn’t hung up on him exactly, especially since he’d cheated on her, but she was hung up on the idea of having a normal, nuclear family.

  Page nodded. “I think so. I don’t want to be alone anymore, at least. Do you know what I mean?”

  I knew exactly what she meant. I nodded.

  “Do you think there are eligible men on this island? Or maybe we could go to one of those speed dating things in the city? I always thought those were stupid, but I don’t know, it could be worth a shot.”

  “Actually,”
I said, interrupting her. “I think I may have already found a man.”

  Page turned to me, her mouth hanging open for a second before she exploded. “ARE YOU SERIOUS? Do you tell me anything anymore? Who is he? Or am I going to have to find that information out from an old woman, as well?”

  “It just happened!” I cried.

  “So,” she said, her eyes wide and impatient. “Who is he?”

  “Mason Adams.”

  She hesitated. “The guy you thought may have murdered our neighbor’s daughter?”

  “That was over a month ago,” I said. “And I never had any hard evidence against him, and if you recall, I solved that murder and Mason had nothing to do with it.”

  Page shrugged. “Oh well. At least you have a date. Besides, on this island, it seems unlikely you’ll find an eligible bachelor who hasn’t been accused of murder at least once.”

  I rolled my eyes at her, and threw Blaire’s suitcase into the trunk before sliding into the driver’s seat. Blaire and Matthew were still held tightly in an embrace. Page yelled to Blaire to hurry, and Blaire yelled back for us to leave without her.

  “Matthew can take me home,” she said.

  Matthew took his eyes off of Blaire long enough to smile in our direction, and Page collapsed into the passenger seat of the car with a huff.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  Page nodded, and we set out on the short drive home. On the way, I filled Page in on the progress the construction crew had made on the house and on how, miraculously, the storm that had ravaged other parts of the island had left our corner almost entirely untouched. I decided to tell her about Mrs. Harris stealing the mail so that she could be on the lookout to ensure we didn’t have any more bills go unpaid, but I conveniently left out the part about Mrs. Harris plugging all of the drains and nearly flooding the entire house. It felt like that would only upset Page, and I already had a rather large piece of upsetting news to deliver to her.

  “So, I have some good news and some bad news,” I said.

  Page turned to me, her eyes narrowed. “Okay?”

  “Well, the good news is that our bed and breakfast had its first guest.”