Chapter 38
Jane and Cora made their way to Cashel’s room, where the others were already waiting, seated on the balcony. The sky was darkening and waves pounded on the sand. The rushing noises of the waves would have calmed Cora, but she was so keyed up from all the worry and excitement.
“So, what happened to you?” Jane said, eyeing Cashel.
Cashel was sitting in a lounger, legs propped up, sunglasses on. His coloring was still off.
“I was drugged,” he said. “We’ve gotten the tox reports.”
A hush fell over the group.
Adrian’s arm slipped around Cora’s shoulder. Her head went into her hands and she glanced at Cashel. “What do you think this means?”
“Someone wanted me out of the way for several hours,” he said.
“Gave him a tiny bit of the date rape drug, Rohypnol. Wasn’t like they wanted to kill him,” Ruby said.
Cora thought about the way he had acted as if he’d been drunk and she supposed it made sense.
“So they wanted you down long enough for . . . for what?” Adrian said.
“I’ve been trying to figure that out.”
“The only thing that’s happened is, well, Zooey was killed,” Jane said.
“Maybe someone wanted to you to look suspicious, you know, a lawyer on drugs,” Cora said.
“But why? What would be the point?” Jane said. “He has no connection to any of these people, except that he’s Adrian’s lawyer.”
They all glanced Adrian’s way.
“Well,” Adrian said, then cleared his throat. “I’ve an alibi for that. We tried to call you, but couldn’t reach you. They questioned me and Cora and understand I had nothing to do with that one, at least.”
“Good,” Cashel said, nodding. “Because here’s the thing. Those two murders are most assuredly connected.”
“How do you know?” Cora said. She had considered this. But the women were killed in different ways. She was unable to find a solid connection between them—except for Adrian, who thought he recognized Zooey as Marcy’s old, long-time research assistant, Susan.
“Zooey was Susan Twiliger,” Cashel said to Adrian. “Ring a bell?”
“Yes, I thought so. Her hair is different and something else. I could not quite put my finger on it,” he said.
“Nose job,” Cashel replied.
“My, my, you have been digging around,” Jane said.
“So Susan used to work for Marcy,” Cashel went on. “First it’s too coincidental that they were both murdered within days of one another. I wasn’t aware of her murder until thirty minutes ago, though. But her name did come up in the research anyway.”
A vision of Zooey’s beautiful face came to her mind. Cora didn’t care for her—it turned out she was not your ordinary fake, but a REAL fake. She had a carefully constructed new self that had become a famous crafter.
“Susan and Marcy were cousins,” Cashel said. “Marcy’s family was and is quite wealthy. Marcy’s family lived on the other side of the island. Marcy’s mother was a sister of Susan’s mother.”
“What part of the island does Susan’s family live on?” Cora asked.
“They live in what people call the swamp area, though it’s not a true swamp. It’s just a marsh,” Cashel said.
Cora’s spine tingled. The beautiful wind chimes flashed in her mind.
“Josh’s family is from over there, too,” she said.
Cashel nodded. “Josh is Zooey’s cousin.”
“So Marcy and Josh were related?” Cora said.
“By marriage. Not blood related at all,” Cashel responded.
“So, what does this have to do with anything? My case? Why you were drugged?” Adrian said with a note of impatience.
“I researched Adair Development,” Cashel went on. “They are planning to back off the resort plans.”
“Yeah, I found that out today,” Adrian said.
“Did you happen to notice who is on the board for them?” Cashel asked.
“No,” Adrian said.
“Mathilde Mayhue,” Cashel said.
Once again, the group was silenced.
“So Mathilde Mayhue is on the board for Adair, and she owns the Drunken Mermaid?” Cora said.
“Odd, isn’t it?” Ruby said. “How many professional crafters do you know who could afford all that?”
“Not the majority, but she is outrageously successful,” Cora said. “She created this retreat years ago and helped to make this island what it is—quite a success.”
“Or a travesty,” Adrian said. “Depending on how you view it. Marcy hated the retreat, the resort. She said the island was better off without it. Of course, her family didn’t need to worry about making a living, like some of the other residents who were gung-ho about the resort. It meant jobs for them.”
Cora remembered the conversation she’d overheard between Hank and Mathilde about the tiara. Mathilde did not like Marcy. That was obvious. But Hank seemed to have a high opinion of her.
“What else did you find out?” Cora asked.
He hesitated, letting out air. “That’s pretty much it. But it was enough to get me out of the way, obviously.”
“Just finding out about Adair Development and that Mathilde is a board member? Ridiculous!” Jane said.
“I would agree,” Cashel said. “Which leads me to believe there’s more going on here than meets the eye. But my focus is not on solving all the local issues—and there seem to be a great deal. My focus is on absolving Adrian from a ludicrous murder rap.”
“Do you have enough information to do that?” Jane said.
“I don’t know. But that’s not quite the question. They have to prove him guilty. If they can’t prove it, they can’t hold him here. So, Adrian, if there’s anything else you could think of that you need to tell me, now is the time,” Cashel said.
Adrian shook his head.
“Don’t you think that if we find the killer it will help Adrian?” Cora said.
“Of course it would,” Cashel said. “But none of us are cops. And some of us have work to do here. Like you. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, knitting something?”
Ruby reached over and smacked his head, playfully.
Cora ignored him, as she often did.
“Cashel, when you were in the Drunken Mermaid, did you see anybody you knew?” she asked.
He thought a moment. “I recognized a couple of people. Mathilde’s assistant . . . What’s his name?”
“Hank,” said Jane. She looked at Cora, for they had noted him there as well, not more than a few hours ago.
“And Josh’s mother? She was there with a group of women,” Cashel said.
“Rue the psychic?” Cora asked.
“Yeah, psychic,” Cashel said, and laughed.
But Cora’s stomach was knotting. Were Rue and Hank acquainted? It seemed an odd connection. But then again, Cora didn’t know much about Hank, other than he was Mathilde’s assistant, they had been quarreling for days, and finally, he quit or was fired.
“That Hank character? I don’t like him,” Ruby said. “He’s a bit too pretty for me. I never liked a pretty man. Besides, his nose was always in Mathilde’s ass. No life of his own, I suppose.”
“You know he no longer works for her, right?” Jane said.
“I think we should talk with Hank,” Cora said.
“Cora—” Cashel said.
“Can’t hurt to talk with him,” Jane replied.
“I think we need to talk with Rue, too. I’ve been wanting to interview her for my blog,” Cora said.
Cashel shook his head. “Can’t you control your woman?” he said to Adrian.
“I don’t think I’d even want to try,” Adrian said, grinning.
“Seriously,” Ruby said with sternness. “If these folks are drugging Cashel for knowing too much, which is nothing at all, imagine what they might do to one of you for not minding your own business. We need to untangle Adrian from this mess and get on home. Let’s not complicate things, shall we?”
Cora grimaced. Ruby was right—but of course, that wasn’t going to stop her. She’d just have to be extra careful.