Valerie Wolzien - Death in a Beach Chair

“You know, that’s true. I guess part of being on vacation is leaving the world behind.”

“Which you haven’t been able to do, unfortunately,” Veronica added.

“No.”

Veronica looked at Ro, Randy, and James. Stronger paddlers, they were about five hundred feet away. “Ro is one of my oldest and best friends, but I don’t always agree with her.”

“Of course not.”

“I think she’s wrong about your friend.”

“Kathleen?”

“Yes. Ro thinks she staged this whole abduction scenario to cast doubt on her husband’s guilt.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t want to upset you. So I didn’t say anything before-not even to Ro-but I think she may be suffering from dementia from her concussion and she may have just wandered off.”

“Why do you think that?”

“She looked so distraught when I saw her in her cottage and…”

“And?” Susan prompted.

“And I think I may have seen her leave Compass Bay by the employees’ entrance. I’m not sure. It was getting dark and I just saw something out of the corner of my eye. But I went back to my cottage for a second, and I know I saw someone moving between the Gordons’ cottage and the gift shop. It could have been Mrs. Gordon. The person was tall with long hair.”

Susan pursed her lips. There seemed to be an excessive number of guests at Compass Bay who fit that description. “You could be right. She could be confused and wander off…”

“I was thinking of amnesia.”

“Oh. But she knew who she was after she was attacked-” Susan shut her mouth.

“Attacked? I thought she fell and hit her head on the beach wall.”

“That’s possible, but it’s also possible that she was hit with something. I mean, Kathleen is in good shape and she doesn’t drink excessively or take drugs. Why would she suddenly fall and hit her head on a perfectly smooth sand beach?”

“I never suggested that she had been drinking,” Veronica said. “Why would you think of that?”

“Why else would she fall down like that?” Susan asked, bewildered by Veronica’s hostile response.

“People are always judging. I had thought that with all the problems your friends were having, you might be different. But I guess I was mistaken!” Plunging her paddle in the water with a strength Susan would never have suspected, Veronica skimmed across the surf to rejoin her group.

Susan remembered Veronica and her husband’s strange drink exchange too late to change to a subject that they both might find acceptable. Oh, well. She was now about a quarter of a mile behind her companions. To her left, the breeze off the water bent palm trees toward the silvery sand of deserted beaches. To her right, the water reflected the darkening sky. A pair of pelicans flew overhead. Looking down into the water, Susan saw her own reflection blending with the colorful fish below. It was beautiful. It was quiet. It was a perfect spot to think through everything that had happened in the past few days. Susan began by considering the possible suspects. Allison had made a point of being friendly with everyone who was staying at Compass Bay (except for the honeymooners), so why couldn’t one of them be the killer? Peggy and Frank were from Connecticut. Perhaps they had known Allison. Perhaps Frank’s affair had been with Allison. Peggy claimed to have forgiven, but Susan got the impression that her feelings weren’t exactly under control. What if they had arrived here for their second honeymoon only to discover the woman who destroyed their marriage already in residence? Would Peggy have killed her husband’s lover for revenge? Would Frank have killed his ex-lover for any reason at all?

Susan wasn’t sure that made sense, and she suddenly realized that she wasn’t going to find out-at least, not now. Now she had more serious problems. Her kayak, no longer floating on the water, was on the way to becoming a submarine.

“Hey! James! Ro! Veronica! Randy! Hey!” She held her paddle across her chest with one hand and waved the other. “Hey! Help!”

The quartet turned at her call and waved back, big smiles on their faces. For a few seconds, Susan wondered if they were glad she was about to sink into the water, if her kayak’s demise was intentional. Then she realized the wind was blowing away from her. They couldn’t hear her. She grabbed both ends of her paddle and raised it in the air above her head. In Maine, this was known among kayakers as a distress signal. Either the same was true in the Caribbean or it was such an unusual thing to do that it couldn’t be ignored, but as she watched, James spun his kayak around and began to paddle toward her.

Susan smiled, relieved, although she knew he wasn’t going to be fast enough. Gently, as though rocking a baby to sleep, her boat sank below the surface. Supported by her life vest, she clutched the paddle and waited for rescue. Looking down, she spied a green parrot fish doing figure eights around her knees. A nearby pencil-thin barracuda, thankfully, didn’t show the same interest.

“Mrs. Henshaw! Are you all right?”

“I’m just fine. Can’t say the same for my kayak,” she added.

“That’s not important. Now we have a problem. How can we get you onto my kayak?”

“It won’t support us both,” Susan protested.

“I can swim by your side.”

“I have a better idea,” Susan said. “Why don’t I just hang on to the back and you can kind of tow me in?”

“That would work, but… are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“I’m sure. The water is wonderfully warm. If you’re strong enough to paddle back carrying the extra weight…”

“No problem. Let’s make everyone understand what we’re doing and we’ll start out.”

Ro and Veronica appeared with Randy, paddling vigorously, trailing behind. James explained their plan.

“What a horrible thing. You could have drowned!” Ro exclaimed.

Susan, busy trying to figure out how to hang on to the ropes tied to the rear of James’s boat without getting rope burn, just smiled.

“And now Mrs. Henshaw gets a free ride back to Compass Bay. The rest of you will have to paddle for yourself.”

No one said anything more. As the tide was coming in, they easily made it back to shore. As soon as Susan’s feet hit the sandy sea bottom, she dropped the rope and swam. If anyone had asked, she would have described the last half an hour as innocuous.

Apparently Lila didn’t feel that way at all. She was waiting on the beach, towels in hand, ready to help Susan (who didn’t need it) out of the water and up onto the sand.

“Mrs. Henshaw! Are you all right? Should I call a doctor?”

“I’m fine. Absolutely fine,” Susan assured her honestly. “Your kayak is sitting on the bottom of the ocean, but I’m fine.”

“I’m certainly glad to hear that. But why don’t I find Lourdes and she can give you a massage on the house.”

“Well, I…” Susan hated to refuse, but she really had other things to do. “I need to meet Jed,” she lied. “I’ll just go back to my cottage and shower.”

“If you’re sure…” Apparently satisfied, Lila directed her attention elsewhere. “James, you’ll be in my office as soon as the kayaks are secured.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Before he turned back to his task, Susan was surprised to see the expression on his face. He looked afraid.

Jed was nowhere to be found, and Susan decided that the shower she had used as an excuse to get away by herself was an excellent idea after all. She had learned a lot this morning, but nothing intrigued her as much as Lila’s reaction to the kayaking accident. The woman had been what Susan’s children would have called “off the wall.” Why would a simple accident upset Lila more than a murder or Jerry’s arrest or Kathleen’s assault? Susan was pouring cream rinse into her palm when the answer struck her. It hadn’t been an accident. Someone had tried to kill her. Lila wasn’t seeing what happened as an individual accident, but as the latest event in a line of horrible events. Events that could damage the reputation of Compass Bay.