Treasure in Paradise Read online

  “Can I get you anything?” Kyle asked as he pulled a blanket I didn’t really need over my legs.

  “No, I’m fine. Is everyone okay?”

  “Yeah, they’ll be fine. The girls are shaken up, especially Gracie, so Ben is reading them a story.”

  “I can hear Echo whining.”

  “He’s shaken up as well. I locked him in the kitchen.”

  “Best to let him come in and check on me before he breaks down the door.” I knew my huge self-appointed protector wouldn’t remain contained for long.

  Kyle did as I asked. When Echo came into the room, I reminded him to be gentle. He stopped in his tracks, then walked over to the sofa and sat at my feet.

  “I’m fine,” I assured the large dog. “See, ten fingers and toes.”

  Echo placed a paw on my leg. I scratched him behind the ears.

  “Gracie is feeling sad. Why don’t you go up to check on her?”

  Echo looked toward the stairs and then back at me.

  “It’s okay. Go see Gracie.”

  Echo did as I requested.

  “You’re really good with that dog,” Savage said from his vantage point near the stairs.

  “He’s been trained in search and rescue, so he knows subtle hand signals. Plus, I swear he understands English.”

  Savage laughed. “Yeah, my dog does too.”

  “What did you find in the attic?”

  “Whoever broke in knew what he was looking for. The paneling along the back wall was pulled away, but nothing else has been disturbed.”

  “The map.”

  “Map?” Savage asked.

  I explained about the map we’d found after the last break-in and the fact that we’d sent it away to be dated. “Do you think our thief was Max?”

  “No. Even if the fog in his brain had cleared enough for him to have the presence of mind to come for the map, he wouldn’t have the physical agility to knock into you and run down the stairs. The poor man barely gets around with a cane.”

  “But if he left his cane here, how did he get all the way across the island to where he was found after he killed Buck?”

  “Good question. There has to be more going on than we thought. Someone else must be involved. It seems there has to be a player we haven’t considered.”

  “Any idea who?” I asked.

  “Not off the top of my head. Buck knew a lot of people and he did have a way of pulling you into his fantasy about the treasure. People—even good people—can get so swept up in treasure-hunting fever that they end up making bad decisions. I’m sure I can come up with a list of people who might have been lured into Buck’s treasure hunt; the problem is that I really can’t think of a single person who would want Buck dead.”

  “How can I help?” I asked.

  “Perhaps after you’ve rested up a bit you’ll remember some small detail about the person who pushed you down the stairs. Even a little thing could help. I’ll let you get some rest now, but I’ll check back with you tomorrow. In the meantime, if you think of anything, call my cell. If someone other than Max killed Buck, I intend to find out who it was.”

  Chapter 18

  Saturday, June 24

  I had a restless night in which I seemed to jump between very vivid dreams of Kyle kissing me and long bouts of wakefulness as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened. We didn’t know exactly when Buck Barnes had died, but we did know what day he’d gone to see Max. Savage confirmed that none of the locals had seen Buck after that day, so we had reason to suspect his theory that Buck had broken Max out and taken him to retrieve the map was most likely what had occurred.

  Initially, we’d believed the two men were alone in the attic, but after the events of the previous evening, we now suspected there had been a third person with the men. This third person, we thought, was most likely the one responsible for returning Max to the spot where he was found; it seemed unlikely he could have walked there on his own. The question was, had Max killed Buck, as we’d initially suspected, or had this third party used Max’s cane to kill Buck? And if Buck was already dead, why did the man—or woman—flee prior to securing the map?

  “Coffee?” Kyle walked up behind me with a large cup of hot liquid.

  “Thanks.” I had been unable to sleep, so I’d curled up in a blanket on the back deck overlooking the sea.

  “Head still hurt?”

  “Actually, it’s feeling better. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Can I help?” Kyle sat down in the lounger next to mine. I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder. It was nice to have someone who was there for me when I really needed him.

  “I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone else. At least not until I figure out what I’m going to do with all this information.”

  “Okay,” Kyle agreed.

  “After we visited the Gull Island Senior Home yesterday I got the idea that perhaps Buck Barnes had broken Savage’s father out of the home to help with his treasure hunt, and that perhaps something had gone wrong and Savage’s father had killed Buck.”

  I went on to explain that residents of the high-security unit did at times manage to sneak away, and given Savage’s father’s condition, he might not have even known what he’d done. Kyle agreed that this theory would explain why Savage was covering up the murder. When I then told him I’d confronted Savage the previous evening and found out that I’d only been partially correct and it was actually Garrett’s father I now suspected of killing Buck, he was as shocked as I had been.

  “Wow. That’s some story.”

  “I know. I couldn’t believe it when Savage explained it to me. Unfortunately, there are a lot of unanswered questions, due in part to the fact that almost everyone in the know is either dead or suffering from dementia.”

  “Okay, so if Buck is dead and Max is basically an invalid, who plowed you down last night?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. It’s totally possible Buck had an accomplice; we just aren’t sure who it could be. Initially I assumed that if he had an accomplice it wouldn’t be a local because the locals knew Buck well enough not to get pulled in his schemes. But what if he managed to convince someone that the man who had last been seen with the map had returned to the island and with a little help he thought he could get him to give it up? Couldn’t that be enough to get someone to take a few hours out of their day to find out if Buck was really on to something?”

  Kyle took a sip of his coffee. “I guess that makes sense. He did manage to get Adam Joyner to take leave from his job to help him. You don’t think the man you saw was Adam?”

  “No. He had the wrong build.”

  “What did you recognize about the man? Heavy? Thin? Tall? Short? Anything?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” I assured Kyle. “It all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think then, but I’m pretty sure now that my attacker was a male of average height and weight. I know that doesn’t narrow things down at all. Savage said the paneling on the back wall of the attic was pulled away, so the person knew exactly where to go to look for the map. If they’d found the map the night Buck died, why not take it then? Cuervo found the flaw in the paneling which led me to find the map, and it was obvious it had been tampered with. It seems as if someone found the map, put it back, and then went back for it last night. The problem with that theory is that it makes no sense from a time management standpoint.”

  “It really doesn’t. Even if he didn’t take the map with him for some reason on the night Buck died, he had plenty of opportunities to go back for it before we arrived. It makes no sense to wait until there was a house full of people.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I leaned my head back and listened to the sound of the waves. Kyle was
right. The person who’d barreled into me last night must have just found out about the map, but how was that even possible? Buck Barnes was dead and Max was safely tucked away in the senior home. Only people who were authorized to do so had been able to speak to him since he’d been returned after he managed to wander away.

  “More coffee?” Kyle asked.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Echo put his head in my lap as I continued to listen to the waves. I was so incredibly tired. I knew that between the slight headache that lingered and the fact that I’d gotten little to no sleep the previous night, I was going to have a hard time getting through the tasks I’d assigned myself for the day. Not that I had anything all that urgent to attend to. One of the nice things about living on Gull Island for the summer was that my list of responsibilities had decreased enormously. If I were home at Paradise Lake, I’d most likely spend the day helping out at the resort and planning the big Fourth of July blowout we held each year.

  “Yo ho, me hearties.”

  I opened my eyes.

  “Blackbeard?”

  “He was awake when I went in for the coffee, so I brought him out.” Kyle had tied him to a perch that had been set up on the deck for just that purpose.

  I smiled. It was sweet the way Kyle doted on the bird. “Good morning to you as well, Blackbeard. I hope you slept well. I’m surprised we didn’t wake you with all the commotion.”

  “Grog and wenches, grog and wenches.”

  Kyle laughed. “Where did you learn that?”

  “That’s what I asked him last night. I suppose he could have picked it up from a movie or maybe the person who owned him before Garrett. Garrett doesn’t seem like a grog-and-wenches type of guy.”

  “This is the first parrot I’ve ever really had any exposure to, but he seems really smart.”

  “Yeah. I mean, the whole ‘Charlie bad’ thing turned out to be really true. I wonder what other clues are buried in his little mind.” I turned and looked at Blackbeard. “Did you see who was in the attic the day Buck died?”

  “Charlie bad, Charlie bad.”

  “Did you see who was in the house last night?” Kyle added.

  “Grog and wenches, grog and wenches.”

  “I wonder if that’s a clue,” I commented to Kyle. “Maybe I should call Garrett to see if he knows what it means.”

  “Good idea. It’s a little early yet, but maybe in a couple of hours.”

  Kyle made a wonderful breakfast for the entire clan, and then I went upstairs to call Garrett. I felt like we were getting close to something; I just didn’t know what. Maybe Garrett had some insight he wasn’t even aware of.

  “Morning, darlin’. How are things on Gull Island?”

  “Things are good. It’s a beautiful day, although I think it might be cooler than it has been. Before I forget, I wanted to congratulate you on your very persuasive performance on Thursday. I haven’t spoken to a lot of people yet, but the ones I have chatted with seem to think Norton will roll up his blueprints and go away.”

  “Glad to hear it. I’m not really in a position to deal with a big legal battle.”

  “I assume you want to continue with the renovations?”

  “I do. Jack sent over his drawings.”

  “And…?”

  “And although they’re very well thought out, I would still prefer to sell to a single owner who will run the place as a small family resort.”

  “Did you tell him that?” I asked.

  “Not yet, but I will.” I could hear depression mixed with resignation in Garrett’s voice. “In the meantime, don’t say anything. I don’t want to leave him with the impression I came to a decision without giving his idea fair consideration.”

  “I won’t say a thing,” I promised. I had two practices next week with Jack for the softball tournament, so I just hoped it wouldn’t come up. I was a pretty lousy liar; if put in the position in which even a white lie was necessary, I’d usually fidget and hem and haw. A dead giveaway, or so those who knew me well had assured me.

  “How’s Blackbeard doing?”

  “Really well. He has a new saying I’m curious about: ‘grog and wenches.’ He’s repeated it several times.”

  Garrett laughed. “I take Blackbeard to Sully’s with me sometimes. Frank always has a treat for him and the locals get a kick out of him, so he loves to go. When we first pull up to the bar he always says ‘grog and wenches.’ I’m not sure how that started, but everyone gets a laugh out of it.”

  The bar. Now that I thought about it, it did seem as if my attacker last night had had the stench of beer on him. Could it have been someone who had been in the bar prior to coming out to the house? If so, maybe whoever was tending bar would know which of their patrons had spilled beer on himself the previous evening.

  “I must say, Blackbeard is the smartest bird I’ve ever seen.”

  “He is. Did you know he was the one who called for help when I had my stroke?”

  Garrett has an old corded phone in the kitchen. “He can dial a phone?”

  “No, but he can knock the handset off the receiver and peck at my speed-dial buttons. He happened to call Rick, although even I don’t think that was intentional. When Rick answered, he said, ‘Man overboard,’ and Rick came running.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “It really is. Blackbeard is a special bird. I’m glad he’s at home and you’re willing to take care of him. It means a lot.”

  “I’m more than happy to do it. He’s really something special and everyone is having a wonderful time with him, with the exception of my cat Cuervo, who isn’t fond of him in the least. Are things going well with your therapy?”

  “It’s going okay, but I have to admit that even though the circumstances weren’t ideal, seeing everyone via video feed the other night has made me even more homesick than I was. This damn stroke has really made a mess of things.”

  “I’m so sorry. I know this must be hard on you.”

  “I hate to complain, but it really has. Not only do I miss Blackbeard and all my friends, but I haven’t been outside of this darn center in days. After a while it gets pretty depressing.”

  “Don’t they have nurses who’ll take you outside for some fresh air?”

  “Sure, there are nurses who will take you out. In a wheelchair. I can walk just fine. I don’t need to be wheeled around in a chair. Damn nurses want to coddle me like I’m a babe in swaddling.”

  “You did have a major stroke,” I reminded him.

  “No need to remind me. My body does that every day.”

  I wanted to say something comforting, but the reality was that Garrett was going through a major life change that would most likely leave him with permanent disabilities for the remainder of his life. It must be a very hard reality to come to grips with.

  “Have you thought about transferring to the Gull Island Senior Home? It seems like you could get the care you need and be near the people you care about.”

  “I may be an invalid, but I’m not a senior. I just turned fifty-eight on my last birthday.”

  “Do they have an age requirement?”

  “No. Not really. Colin called me early on and we chatted about it. At the time, I told him I wasn’t a fan of the idea because I’d be the youngest one in the whole place, but he said there were advantages to being close to folks I know. Guess he might have a point, but I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that I may never be able to live on my own again.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’re going through and I’m certainly not suggesting I’m in a position to offer you advice, but I’m sure your friends would welcome the opportunity to spend time with you, and I’d be willing to bet that not one of them would think any less of you for being in a wheelchair.”

&
nbsp; Garrett didn’t answer right away, but it seemed as if he might be considering the situation. When he did reply, he changed the subject, leading me to believe he needed more time to consider his options.

  “I need you to make sure that Jack knows that the cabins closest to the turtle eggs aren’t to be touched until after hatching season. We don’t want to disturb the little darlings.”

  “I’ll tell him, and I know Digger has been keeping an eye on the nests and I will as well. The turtles are in good hands.”

  “Thank you, darlin’. It looks like it’s time for my therapy. Let’s talk again soon. It helps pass the time to listen to your cheerful voice.”

  I didn’t feel like the conversations I’d had with Garrett to date had been particularly cheerful in nature, but if he found comfort in them, I’d make a point to call him every day.

  Chapter 19

  After I finished speaking to Garrett I headed into town. He’d said Blackbeard referred to Sully’s as “grog and wenches,” and so far the bird had been spot on, so I figured it was worth it to talk to Sully. I doubted the bar would be open that early, but perhaps Sully would be around and would know who might have taken a beer bath the previous evening. Luckily for me, there was a delivery truck unloading supplies through the alley entrance, so I let myself in to the bar through a back door. The only person there, however, was Frank, who was speaking with the delivery guy and hadn’t seen me come in. I waited while he completed his conversation.

  “It’s been real nice working with you,” the delivery driver said. “I’m sorry to see you go.”