Nightly routines completed, we got into bed. I stared at the white netting above our heads. It had been a long, strange day.
“You asked me our first day what I thought of them, what do you think of them now?” I asked.
She fluffed her pillows. “Nice group, I guess.”
“Do you believe them?” I asked.
“Believe who?” Charlotte asked.
“Our fellow travelers.”
“About what?”
“That Dr. Higgins’ death was an accident.”
“As opposed to what?”
“Murder.”
“Murder? What are you talking about?”
“Come on, he was a fastidious guy. A real rules follower. Do you really think he would have left his door open?”
“Maybe they opened it.”
“They who? The hyenas? Really, Charlotte. You think the hyenas opened the door?”
I got out of bed, got myself tangled in the mosquito netting briefly, and walked to the door. I looked at the secure lock on the door and turned it. I started to open the door.
“Don’t!” she yelled. “What happens if they are waiting outside the door…waiting to attack?”
I looked through the peephole. “No hyenas.”
“You wouldn’t be able to see them. They’re not that tall!”
I took another peek out, trying to see high and low, left and right. But there was nothing.
“Get back into bed. Go to sleep,” she pleaded. I took a last look at the door and then obliged. “Make sure that netting is secure. I don’t want any bugs getting in.”
I did as ordered and then got back into bed, but I couldn’t let it go. “You really think a pack of wild animals could unlock that door?”
“Maybe he didn’t lock it.”
“Fine, you really think the pack could get that door open?”
“Maybe…if they worked together.”
“This isn’t Jurassic World, Charlotte.”
“And this isn’t Murder She Wrote, Naomi.”
“What?” I asked.
“We’re on vacation, not on a murder mystery tour. And other than the dead body this morning, it has been lovely.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. “There’s something not right about it.”
“Man dies on vacation. No, that’s not right. But it happened. We move on.”
But I couldn’t.
Charlotte snapped the lights off and ordered me to sleep. She fluffed her pillows again and tried to get comfortable on her side, away from me.
I stared at the white mesh netting. The room remained visible with the light of the moon. I listened. It was quiet. Middle of nowhere quiet.
Charlotte sighed and mumbled a profanity. She rolled on her back. “All I’m saying is, what’s the alternative? Someone murdered him and framed the hyenas?”
“A hyena isn’t a likely scapegoat. Maybe that’s why it worked.” And worked so well.
She snapped the lights back on. “Who even knew hyenas could do that much damage?” I looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Fine, we knew, but not until Jack told us. You think he told anyone else?”
Jack could talk, so I had to assume everyone knew about the hyenas and their pack behavior and strong jaws.
“Besides Jack,” I said, “I bet if you researched the animals you’ll likely see on safari, you’d know. It was Hyena 101.”
“And you only know about 101 classes, don’t you?”
“Ha-ha. I made it to my sophomore year in college. So I know about more than just the basics.” I had left college because I thought life in the real world would teach me more. All it taught me was that life was hard.
“He looked like a professor, didn’t he? That was my first thought when I saw him in the boarding area. A college professor. We don’t know anything about him.”
“You think he was medical doctor?” I asked.
“I assumed so. I didn’t really care enough to ask.” She turned to me. “That’s a good question. I’ve had plenty of teachers in undergraduate that had doctorates or PhDs in their field. But does it matter?”
I shrugged. “Probably not.” I had tried to Google him on my phone but hadn’t been able to get a signal all day.
The silence returned. The five in the morning wake-up call was quickly approaching and we both knew we should get some sleep.
“Who would come up with such a plan?” Charlotte asked.
“Someone with a very devious mind.”
She tapped me on my temple. “Like this one?” she asked.
“Well, we both know I didn’t do it.”
“How?” She propped herself on her elbow and looked at me. “You snuck out the night before for a few drinks with Mr. Wallace. No escort.”
I smiled. “Don’t make it sound so lascivious.”
“Just saying you’d be the obvious choice. You found him and you’re known to leave the room at night unescorted.”
“Known to?” I asked.
“Please, gossip in a place like this spreads like wildfire.” She plopped back onto her pillows. “What’s a little jaunt to the next hut?”
“Once. I left once at night to go to the bar. Before I even knew we needed an escort at night. I missed that part of orientation. Thanks for telling me, sis.”
“It never crossed my mind you’d leave the room after I went to bed.”
I waited, hoping she’d continue. Surely, she didn’t think I had murdered Dr. Higgins. I didn’t think she had. Although I was relieved when I hadn’t found bloody clothes and a murder weapon in her luggage.
“Fine,” she finally said. “I know it wasn’t you.” I was relieved my sister knew I wasn’t a murderer. “I would have found your bloodstained clothes if you had.”
Trust but verify. It confirmed we were sisters. Sometimes I had my doubts.
Our father had learned the “Trust but verify” rule the hard way. Thanks to our mom. How many times had she said the guy from the gym, the office, or the bakery was “just a friend”? Each was a fleeting affair, which Dad unknowingly paid for, until Mother lost interest. Because she always lost interest. Dad learned that too the hard way, after the brief reconciliation. It made for interesting divorce court proceedings and an easy decision for me to go live with Dad.
“And the more obvious reason is I have no motive,” I reminded her.
“Motive…that’s your most obvious reason that this wasn’t murder. Why would someone kill him?” she asked.
“Can you say anyone liked him here?”
“No, no one liked him, but most people aren’t murdered just for being a pain in the neck.” She paused and swallowed hard. “Sorry, poor turn of phrase. But that kind of annoyance takes years to build up in order for someone to snap.” She turned on her side, away from me again. “Time for bed. You’ve talked out your paranoia. He was not murdered. He’d never been here before. He was traveling here alone. He didn’t know anyone here.”
I wondered if that was true.