Valerie Wolzien - Death in a Beach Chair

“Definitely,” Jed agreed.

“But, Jed, we forgot to tell them that you were dr-”

“Let’s go, hon. Our reservation was for seven. We don’t want to be late.” He grabbed her arm with more force than necessary, and Susan got the idea at once.

“Yes, you’re right! Thanks for your help,” she added to Lila as her husband guided her away.

“Why did you do that? The police should know if you were drugged!”

“They should and they will in good time. But, Susan, if I was drugged, it happened here.”

“You think one of the staff did it? Which one?” Susan peered around at the numerous servers on the crowded patio restaurant.

“I’ve been thinking about that. Assuming that my food was tampered with, it may have been someone in the kitchen or the waiter or maybe the bartender. I had a beer with my meal. Draft, not bottled. Or…”

“Or?”

“Or it could have been someone who stopped at my table to chat. Let’s sit down and I’ll try to think who I spoke to during lunch.”

“You have reservations for three, I believe, Mr. Henshaw,” the hostess said, approaching them with a slip of paper in her hand.

“Yes, Mrs. Gordon won’t be joining us this evening,” he answered. “I wondered if you could find a table with some privacy for Mrs. Henshaw and me. It’s been a long day, and my wife has a slight headache.”

Now, Susan had never had a “slight headache” in her life. She either felt fine or as though a brick had knocked her over the head, but she tried to look appropriately wan and droopy as the hostess led them to a small table on the patio around the pool.

“I’ll tell a waiter to serve you here,” she said before walking away and leaving them alone.

“This is pretty good. If we speak softly, no one should overhear.”

Susan scooted her chair slightly to the right so she could look up at the restaurant without turning further. “So who stopped at your table?”

“Lord, Susan, you know I’m not good at names.”

“Then just describe them to me.”

“Well, all the bridge players were there. They were playing at a table right next to mine, and whoever was dummy usually took the opportunity to order another drink and stop over and chat. That foursome really packs away the alcohol.”

“Well, three of them do anyway,” Susan said. Their waiter came for their drink order and to announce the dinner specials. “So tell me who else appeared at your table,” she asked when they were alone again.

“Well…” The sun was sinking into the sea in the west, and Jed’s face reflected the vivid hues of the sky. He frowned.

“What about the honeymooners? They didn’t stop to talk to you, did they?”

“As far as I know, they followed their usual pattern and didn’t leave their cottage until well after the rest of us had eaten both breakfast and lunch.”

“So they’re out.”

“Yes.”

“What about Joann and Martin?”

“Yes. How she nags him. Now if someone had to die, why couldn’t it have been her? My guess is that Martin would be a very happy widower, although he would never put it like that.”

“So they stopped at your table?”

“Yes, but not to see me. Ro was dummy and sitting with me, and Joann wanted to talk to her about a kayaking trip. She sat down and chatted for a while, managed to let everyone within hearing know that she was tired of kayaking with her husband-apparently he can’t keep up with her-and then they both headed over to the pool. Joann needed to work on her tan.”

“How about Peggy and Frank?”

“I don’t think I know who they are.”

“Good-looking couple. He has bright red hair. Around our age. They’re from Connecticut. They’re very athletic. Always swimming laps in the pool or taking off on long kayaking trips. They’re here on their second honeymoon and like to tell everyone about it.”

“Oh, I know them. They stopped by and talked for a while. In fact, she gave me a message for you. She wanted to be sure you knew about some sort of scuba-diving class that James is holding tomorrow afternoon.”

“Really… I’ve always wanted to try that. Remember when we were in Bermuda with the kids and Chad learned? He’s always said that was one of the best trips we ever took.”

“I think that may have had more to do with the bikini-clad instructor than the submerged flora and fauna.”

“Oh, well, I’ll probably be busy tomorrow anyway.”

“This trip sure isn’t turning out to be the relaxing vacation we planned,” Jed said.

“No, but it may be getting better. Lila is on her way here. With two police officers-oh, no.”

“What?”

“Those officers were here this morning. They think Kathleen only pretended to be assaulted. I wonder what they’re going to say this time. Now that she might have been abducted and her cottage searched.”

It turned out that the officers were in a rut. This time, however, it was Susan they didn’t believe. And this time they threatened her with arrest if she-or any of her companions-continued to waste the island police department’s valuable time.

Susan was so angry she couldn’t sleep. She was also nearly paralyzed with worry. Jerry was in jail. Kathleen had been assaulted and then disappeared. And Jed, her husband, the person she loved more than anyone else in the world, had been drugged. The police refused to help out, and apparently, the embassy couldn’t. Jed, claiming to still feel the effects of whatever had caused him to sleep all afternoon, had dropped off as soon as he lay down. Susan hadn’t even bothered to take off her robe, and finally tiring of trying to read, she put down her book and wandered out on the deck.

It was still early and Compass Bay was hopping. Susan leaned against the deck rail and watched the vacationers. The bridge players were still at it, sitting at a round table, illuminated by the lights of the bar nearby. She wondered if the convenience of the light outweighed the convenience of so much alcohol close by. The honeymooners were sitting together on the breakwater, their arms locked around each other. This really was a resort for couples. Susan spied two women she didn’t recognize chatting together by the pool, legs dangling in the water. They probably were here with the two unknown men sitting at the bar. New guests had arrived. Their vacations wouldn’t be tainted by Allison’s murder.

She spied Joann and Martin heading down the path toward their cottage. They would soon pass by her. She hurried back inside, not wanting to talk to them.

Getting ready for bed, she realized that, in the morning, someone was going to have to tell Jerry about Kathleen’s disappearance. She went to sleep hoping that somebody didn’t have to be her.

Jed’s long nap combined with a good night’s sleep had him up at dawn.

“Sue. Hon. I’m going to go see Jerry. I’ll tell him about Kathleen and… and I guess I’ll take it from there.”

Susan, drowsy with sleep, muttered agreement, punched her pillow, and rolled over to find a cool spot on the mattress.

She woke up an hour later and stared at the ceiling. She was alone. Her friends were in terrible trouble. Not knowing what to do, she decided to head over to the restaurant. Food didn’t sound terribly appealing, but a cup of coffee might be a big help.

She found a seat by the wall and, her back to the still empty restaurant, stared out at the sea. A young woman approached almost immediately, and Susan looked up, expecting a menu. She was handed a folded sheet of notepaper. “Your husband called. He said to give you this. I’ll find your waiter.” Susan grabbed the paper and opened it anxiously.

“I’m with Jerry. I told him about Kathleen, and while he looked a little worried, he didn’t seem unduly upset. I’m going to see his lawyer. Maybe we can do something here. You stay there and relax.”