Sabrina rushed past the road that led to her cottage, knowing there might still be a news crew there. Would she always need to fear and avoid cops and reporters? When she had been a television meteorologist, she interacted with reporters every day. There were some talented and tireless investigative journalists who she admired and with whom she worked side by side in blizzards and hurricanes. But sensational crimes seemed to attract the pond scum of the media, and no crime was more sensational than murder.
Winding up the dirt road that overlooked Reef Bay, Sabrina realized how much she missed her dog. Girlfriend brought routine and normalcy to her life. Their nightly swims were Sabrina’s favorite part of the day, made even more so when Neil joined them.
She pulled into the driveway of the Banks’ home, appreciating how the hibiscus hedge was always meticulously trimmed. She respected Evan Banks for not giving in to the Alzheimer’s disease, which was making him slowly slip away. She admired even more how his wife, Lyla, worked to help him hold on.
Lyla barely had the front door open when Girlfriend leapt to greet Sabrina. Sabrina laughed out loud as the dog kept jumping and landing kisses on her face and neck. Was there anything better than being loved by a dog?
“She’s missed you, dear,” Lyla said, stepping back into the house to let Sabrina enter.
“And we’ll miss her. Any time you need someone to watch her, you know who to call.” Evan gathered Girlfriend’s overnight bag, which Sabrina had filled with food and toys before dropping her off the day of the wedding rehearsal. It was just two days before, but it felt like a month to her.
“Do you have time for an ice tea?” Lyla asked.
“I wish I could, but it turns out the bride’s death wasn’t accidental, and it’s created a bit of a mess for Henry and me.” Sabrina wished she could sit and chat over ice tea and not have to worry about how another murder had landed in Ten Villas’ lap.
“We know. It’s all over the news. I hope you’re not taking it personally,” Lyla said.
“Don’t listen to that bore. Blaming Ten Villas for poor security is ridiculous. Everything is always someone else’s fault. It’s common knowledge murders are most often committed by family members,” Evan said.
Sabrina liked it when Evan sounded off. He was such an intelligent man. Alzheimer’s was a cruel disease.
“Wait, what bore? What are you talking about?” Sabrina realized she hadn’t fully comprehended Evan’s comment.
“The brother of the groom. He talked about the irony of the tragedy. He said his family was launching a new villa construction business, only to have his brother’s bride murdered the night before her wedding because the villa management company had shoddy security. I’m sorry. If it helps, he sounded like an arrogant prig.”
Lyla reached over to take Sabrina’s hand in hers. “I hate to add to your burden, Sabrina, but I think you’d better check in on your guests across the street at Villa Mascarpone. The husband came over a little while ago to ask if we had a break-in, too.”
“A break-in? Just what we need. I’m sorry. Did they have a break-in? Did you?” Sabrina couldn’t imagine what else could creep into this very long and disastrous day.
“Not with your watchdog. No one would dare come near us with that noble beast on the premises,” Evan said.
“No, we’re fine. But apparently the Hewitts had a visit from the so-called skinny-dippers and are upset. I hope you don’t mind, but I told them you were coming to pick up Girlfriend and that I’d have you stop by,” Lyla said.
Sabrina had the irrational urge to tell Lyla that she had no business putting one more item on her plate. She had surpassed her quota for unpleasant tasks for one day, and this next one was well past her limit. Now she would have to put on the Ten Villas smile and voice to calm the Hewitts down. Where was Henry when she needed him? He was the one with the charm and diplomacy, not her. She took a deep breath and bit her tongue, knowing Lyla was the messenger, not the message.
“Thanks, Lyla. I’ll stop by on my way out. Funny, but I think this is the first time the skinny-dippers have hit a villa that is occupied. I’ve been under the impression they chose unoccupied ones.” Sabrina considered how what had seemed like a series of innocent pranks could become ugly if there was a confrontation with villa guests.
Sabrina called “Inside” at the periwinkle blue gate before unlatching it and walking to the pool area, where she would never be able to enter without picturing the dead body of a man in the hammock hanging below the pergola. Months had passed since Carter Johnson’s murder, but Sabrina still had nightmares about finding his body and the investigation of the murder, which had almost ended her new life on St. John. Was this second murder a message? Did she not belong here?
“So glad to see you, Sabrina,” Martin Hewitt said, opening the sliding screen doors that led into the house.
Sabrina walked past the pool where the signature hibiscus was floating on the surface. In the living room, Vicki Hewitt was sitting in a chair with a half-empty martini glass on the end table next to her. Her expression told Sabrina the skinny-dippers were no longer funny.
“It’s pretty unsettling to be vacationing in paradise, doing a little shopping at Mongoose Junction, and hear a bride had been murdered the night before her wedding. But then to return to your villa to find a couple of fat naked people climbing out of the pool, well it’s scary,” Vicki’s voice trembled as she downed what was left of her martini.
“Did you see their faces?” Sabrina asked.
“That would have been merciful, but no, we only saw their naked butts,” Martin said.
“I’m so sorry,” Sabrina told them and she was. She could see how the skinny-dippers seemed bizarre at best, but when considered along with the fact a murder had happened on such a small island, the incident could feel frightening.
Sabrina explained that the anonymous skinny-dippers had been pulling their pranks for a few weeks and were considered harmless, although annoying.
“Did you report this to the police or shall I?” she asked, relieved to hear the Hewitts had not.
“I’ll take care of it right away for you. And I’ll have our local locksmith come out and reset the combination on the locks for you. Is there anything else I can do?”
Having appeased the guests, Sabrina got into her jeep, happy to have Girlfriend riding shotgun again. She pulled away down the steep curve until she found a spot with cell phone reception where she pulled over to make a call. The last number she was going to call was the police.