A Killing On The Water Page 4

  I said, “You can text it to each of us so we have something to show people while we’re searching. I’ll also put it up online if that’s all right.”

  Ray passed his phone around, and we each entered our number. I put Shep’s in, too. Ray hit “send,” and each of our phones buzzed as the picture came through. I quickly added it to the web post, and then turned to my sister. “Page, you’ll stay here. Search the house and grounds and keep an eye on Elizabeth in case she wakes and needs anything. We’ll all report back to you if anything comes up.” I looked up. “Does everybody know what they’re doing?”

  They nodded.

  “Great, then let’s get out there. Let’s find Jacob.”

  I pulled on a rain jacket and put Jasper’s leash on him. I took him to Liam’s rental, and Liam drove me back to the café to get my car and pick up Claire, who was joining him in searching his section of the island.

  I noticed that Liam had brought his camera along and wondered why he was recording this tragedy. I assumed recording anything interesting had become instinctual for him, but worried that the camera would be a distraction from his search. I thanked him for the ride and waved goodbye as I got out of his car and headed toward mine.

  Jasper and I got in and turned south. Grateful the thunder and lightning had stopped for now, I was determined to get as much of my sector searched as I could while the weather cooperated.

  I parked near the old lighthouse at the southern tip of the island and looked around. I had only been to this spot once since an awful incident recently, when a murderer and jewel thief had tried to push me off the top of the lighthouse. I shoved the uneasy memory from my mind. There was nothing here to be afraid of now.

  Not seeing any sign of anyone at the lighthouse, I tugged on the leash and headed north-east. Sweet Jasper’s little body waddled in front of me with such determination that I felt he must know how important our mission was. We stopped at several vacant cottages along the coast. They were all locked, and I couldn’t see anyone inside through the windows, so I kept going. Moving out onto the beach, I showed two teenagers at a lifeguard stand Jacob’s picture, but they didn’t recognize him. They promised to call Page if they saw anything, but they couldn’t leave their post to help look.

  When I reached the northern end of my search area, I turned west and began making my way south down the first street I came to. More locals lived in these areas not directly on the coast, as the homes were less expensive. I began knocking on doors. The rainy weekend weather had kept many people at home.

  “Have you seen this boy?” I asked a couple at the first cottage. “He’s missing.”

  “No, we’ve been at home all day,” the woman said. “We haven’t seen anything.”

  “Would you be willing to help me search?” I asked. “I’ve only been through the east coast cottages, and I’m worried about what will happen if we don’t find him before the storm moves back in.”

  The couple agreed, going to get their shoes and rain jackets. I moved on to the house next door, repeating my plea. Several of the neighbors joined me, and I was able to search faster now that I didn’t have to stop at every house.

  There were about twelve streets from one side of the island to the other, thanks to a big park in the center. The park was mostly sports fields and playgrounds, so we didn’t have to search the woods. Searching the various pieces of playground equipment and inside dugouts and under bleachers seemed to take a long time, but in reality, the park had so much open space that it probably actually saved time. Searching a few more blocks of houses would have been much more work.

  As we searched, the people in the group were constantly rotating. Different families joined the search and left as we moved westward across the island. Most people that we asked agreed to help search for at least a block or two, and I felt grateful to have found a home with such generously spirited residents.

  By the time I was working my way through the cottages on the western side of the island, I felt defeated. No one had recognized Jacob, and they definitely didn’t know where he was. With a sigh, I checked the last cottage, which stood empty. I said goodbye to the remaining searchers, thanked them for their help, and began walking back toward my car.

  As I walked, I thought about Ms. Greenaway. How had she ended up in the water? I had been assuming it was an accident, but what if it wasn’t? I began thinking through different scenarios, trying to figure out where Jacob might be. If it was an accident, it was possible Jacob could be physically stuck wherever she had fallen into the sea, with no way of getting back to his parents. He could have fallen in, too, and his body could be drifting away on the waves, never to be found.

  I shuddered. I wasn’t going to accept that possibility until all the others were proven wrong. What about if Ms. Greenaway didn’t end up in the water by accident? Maybe she had angered the wrong person. Jacob could have seen them kill her and found a place to hide. He could just be too afraid of the killer to come out. Maybe the killer could have offed him at the same time as Ms. Greenaway, but I wasn’t ready to accept any possibility that left the boy dead.

  The other possibility was that the killer still had Jacob and was hiding him somewhere. That was only slightly better than his already being dead, since I could see the killer getting irritated by the boy rather quickly and deciding it wasn’t worth it to keep him alive. I sighed, hoping Jacob was just hiding somewhere and would come out when he felt it was safe.

  As I approached my car, I gazed up at the rickety old lighthouse. Not long ago, I had found a criminal hiding in there. It looked exactly like a place that a young boy might also be drawn to. Perhaps he, too, had chosen it as a hiding spot? Deciding to take a closer look, I said a few soothing words to Jasper and walked toward the tall structure.

  Chapter 8

  The lighthouse’s white paint was flaking off badly, revealing the weathered brick beneath. Jasper whined nervously as we made our way around to the door.

  “I know, boy,” I said. “We both have bad memories of this place, but we have to check while we’re here.”

  Although the door had been boarded up, the board had partially rotted away. The hole at the bottom was large enough to get through, so I knew I had to keep going.

  I turned on the flashlight on my phone and crawled in, tugging Jasper in behind me. Dust, broken boards, and rotting pieces of furniture littered the floor, but there was no sign of anything living.

  “Jacob?” I called up the spiral staircase that wound up the middle of the building. All I heard in response was the moan of the wind from above. I shuddered, imagining Mrs. Harris’s ghosts swirling around the top of the lighthouse.

  With a shudder, I scooped Jasper into my arms and began cautiously climbing the stairs. As I had found out the last time I was here, the steps were very narrow, and I had to stay as close to the outside of them as possible to avoid tripping. That, however, kept me constantly aware of just how high we were going, and I clutched Jasper as tightly as I could while keeping the light pointed ahead.

  It took us several minutes to make it to the top, and it immediately became clear that no one else was there. I set Jasper down to rest my arms and turned the flashlight off. Some of the glass in the upper enclosure was broken, and the wind whipped through my light brown hair. I tied Jasper’s leash to the sturdy metal base of the broken lantern and forced open the door that lead outside.

  I stepped out cautiously, clinging to the handrail. The rail was newly installed by the historical preservation society. If that little feature had existed the last time I was up here, I might not have nearly been pushed to my death by a desperate jewel thief. I shook the memory from my mind.

  The wind was fierce, and I moved nervously around the circumference, hoping to see something I’d missed on foot. I checked the water, too, afraid that I’d spot Jacob’s body like I’d spotted his nanny’s hours earlier, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary on land or sea.

  Feeling even more defeated than I had ear
lier, I went back inside after I noticed lightning in the distance and realized another storm was headed for the island. I picked up Jasper and moved as quickly as I dared down the stairs, eager to escape the stale air, wailing wind, and walls that seemed to creep ever tighter around me. I didn’t usually get claustrophobic, but Jasper’s puppy breath was the only thing keeping me sane on my dark, dizzying descent. Jasper and I crawled through the door, and fat drops began to fall as we ran to the car.

  Although it was summer, I was shivering, so I turned the heater on when I started the car. Jasper stretched out on the passenger seat, gave me a dirty look, and grumbled as he rested his head on his paws and dozed off. He wasn’t used to such intensive walks or to being hauled hundreds of feet up creepy winding staircases. I was grateful that he had been willing to keep up with me today.

  My stomach growled, and I realized I had only had one piece of dry toast to eat all day. I decided to go back to the B&B to check in with Page and see if any of the others were back yet. I knew that Page or Shep would have called if Jacob had been found, but maybe someone had come forward with new information. I drove carefully in the heavy rain, stretching the tension out of my shoulders when we finally made it home.

  Inside, Blaire was sitting next to Mrs. Harris, holding the old woman’s hand as Mrs. Harris fretted and muttered about darkness and evil. When we first moved into this house, we had all been creeped out by the aging attic resident, so it was sweet to see Blaire soothing her now.

  Blaire shook her head to tell me she hadn’t found anything, so I went to find Page in the kitchen. She was sitting on a stool next to the stove, stirring something in a pot and staring into space.

  Without looking at me, she said, “He’s not in the house or on the grounds. Blaire got her friends to help her search the north end, but they didn’t find anything. She said most of the cottages were empty and locked up.”

  “Same as the south end,” I replied, dropping onto a stool and turning to face her. “I checked the lighthouse, too. I even went up to the top in case I could see something from there.” I shrugged. “No luck.”

  “You went up in that lighthouse again?” she said, finally looking at me. “Haven’t you had enough of that place?”

  “Sure, but a boy is missing. I did what I had to.” Jasper came running in, and I realized he was still wearing his leash. I put it away and put fresh water in his bowl, and then returned to my stool.

  “Where was Jasper while you were inside?” Page asked.

  When he heard his name, Jasper sat up, watching our exchange in apparent amusement.

  “I carried him up with me, but I didn’t bring him out on the walkway. I left him inside,” I protested at her raised eyebrow. “We’re fine.”

  “But it was a waste of time because you didn’t find anything.” She sighed. “Don’t do dangerous things,” she ordered, shaking her head, “and especially don’t repeat dangerous things that nearly killed you once before.”

  “I figured if Jacob was hiding, the lighthouse would be a place a little boy would go, right?” I got up and walked over to peek into the pot, hoping whatever Page was making would be ready soon.

  She paused as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to say what she was about to say. “You’re good at this stuff,” she said reluctantly.

  “Murder and mayhem?” I grinned.

  “Figuring out puzzles. Solving crimes,” she corrected me. “I was thinking.” She slapped my hand when I tried to take the ladle from her. “The chili needs another twenty minutes or so.”

  I frowned and sat back down.

  “Anyway, I was thinking you need to do your own investigating. Shep…well, we all know Shep’s good hearted but a bumbler. And everybody is so focused on the search for Jacob that I feel like we’re all missing something.”

  “I feel the same way,” I admitted. I drew my phone from my pocket and pulled up the community social page online to scroll through the comments people had left on my earlier posts. They were all variations of “Good luck!” and “Sorry I can’t help!” Nobody had anything helpful to say.

  I brooded while Page went back to stirring the chili.

  “Okay, Jacob and Ms. Greenaway left after breakfast but came back here. What time did you say you saw them?” I asked Page.

  “10:30ish. Oh, and he tore the cover off that book from the living room shelf,” she said, pointing to the damaged hardback lying on the windowsill.

  I got the superglue out and brought the book back over to my seat. I spread the glue on the book’s spine and put the cover back in place. “And they were gone by about 10:45?”

  Page nodded.

  “So, we need to figure out where they went after breakfast and why they left again,” I said.

  “Ray said they didn’t know what Ms. Greenaway and Jacob were going to do today,” Page reminded me. “Did they have the car?”

  “They must have,” I answered. We sat, thinking for a few minutes.

  “The way I see it, there are three possibilities,” I said. “First, Jacob is dead, either by the same accident that killed the nanny or by the same killer.”

  Page shuddered.

  “Second,” I continued, “Ms. Greenaway was murdered, and Jacob has been kidnapped by the killer.”

  “That’s not better than the first one,” Page said. “Any kidnapper would want to kill him within the first twenty minutes.”

  I nodded. “I agree. The third option is that Jacob saw what happened to Ms. Greenaway and is hiding. If it was an accident, he’s more likely to come out on his own than if she was murdered.”

  “Why?”

  “If it was an accident, he’s probably just upset,” I explained, “but if it was murder, he might be scared that the killer will come for him.”

  Page stood, pulled a couple of bowls out of a cabinet, and ladled some chili into each. I pulled spoons out of the drawer beside me and handed her one as she slid a bowl over to me. I ate slowly, trying not to burn the roof of my mouth.

  “Okay, but what does all of that mean?” Putting a lid on the pot and turning the burner down, Page dragged her stool away from the stove and over to where she’d set her bowl.

  “Well, regardless of where he is, Jacob’s disappearance has to be connected to Ms. Greenaway’s death, right?” I took another bite to give myself time to think. “So, if we’re not finding Jacob just by searching, we need to come at it from the other side. Figuring out what happened to Ms. Greenaway will lead us to what happened to Jacob.”

  “All right…how do we figure out what happened to Ms. Greenaway, then?” Page had set her spoon down and was staring at me.

  “Well, we start by searching the house.”

  Chapter 9

  “I already searched around the house,” Page protested.

  “Yeah, but you were looking for the kid. We need to look for clues about where they went and what they were doing. Do we even know why the Prestons are on the island to begin with?” I asked.

  Page shook her head. “I don’t think they ever said.”

  “Maybe you can work on finding that out? Try to get Elizabeth talking when she wakes up?”

  She nodded slowly. “I can do that,” she said. “I’ll bring her tea, or maybe some broth.”

  “Perfect,” I said, hurrying to eat the rest of my chili. “I want to search that room before Shep gets back.”

  “And I should check on Elizabeth.” Page picked up her spoon, excited to have a mission.

  I set my dishes in the sink. “I’ll get that later,” I promised Page, and she didn’t even look irritated when she nodded. I left Jasper in the kitchen and tried to run quietly up the steps.

  Blaire was just coming down when I was opening the door to Ms. Greenaway’s room. “What are you doing?” she asked, coming to meet me.

  “I’m going to search the room to see if I can figure out where they went this morning,” I said.

  “I’ll help,” Blaire offered, following me into the room.

  Ms
. Greenaway and Jacob were staying in the blue room, which was my favorite of the guest rooms. It had white raised panel wainscoting that came two thirds of the way up the wall. The upper part of the walls was painted dark blue. The bedframes and dresser were stained dark brown, and the duvets were lacy and cream colored. Decorative pillows on the beds had a geometric pattern that mixed the room’s dark blue and cream with a red that brought a nice pop of color to the room. Shaggy blue rugs lay on the wood floors.

  What was normally one of my favorite rooms to clean currently held little resemblance to the peaceful blue refuge in my mind. Jacob’s bed was obviously the one closer to the window. The bed looked like someone had been jumping on it. Little boy clothes were strewn about the floor and hanging messily out of the dresser. Toys were spilling out of a bag that had been knocked over by the window, and an empty juice carton sat on the nightstand.

  “Good thing we cleaned up this morning,” Blaire said sarcastically.

  “He did this in fifteen minutes?” I asked, gaping.

  Blaire shrugged. “I guess I’ll take his side,” she said, stepping over a pair of Jacob-sized sandals.

  “Try to keep everything close to how it is,” I told her. “Technically, this might be a crime scene.”

  She nodded, carefully looking through the dresser drawers. I opened Ms. Greenaway’s bag and began poking through her things.

  “Who buys their nine-year-old such an expensive tablet?” Blaire asked, holding up a device she had found.

  I shrugged, too busy searching to come up with an answer.

  After ten minutes of searching, we hadn’t found anything useful. We headed downstairs just as Shep and two officers from the mainland came in. Liam was behind them with his camera, and Ray was sitting in the living room with a drowsy-looking Elizabeth.

  “Oh, good,” Shep said. “You’re back. Get Page and we’ll all meet in there,” he nodded at me.

  I poked my head in the kitchen, where Page was pouring hot water into a tea cup. “Shep wants us in the living room,” I told her, and she grabbed the tea before following.