FIFTEEN

A burp of pepper-flavored acid rose up in my throat and I swallowed it back down. I reached for my Diet Coke and took a big sip, but that did nothing to neutralize the nasty burn, only intensified it. I’d been at Sunshine Acres only a few hours ago. That Hank guy could have been the killer. He must be involved somehow. Spiro must be hidden away in any of the numerous buildings of the compound. And I’d bought groceries from them for years. My God, I was supporting them!

“Georgie, are you there?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m just surprised, is all.” I fished around in my desk and came up with a lone antacid tablet wrapped up in a curling peel of paper. I chewed it up.

“Well, I was too. Although when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. They’ve been organized as a farming and living cooperative for forty years. It’s not that big a leap to think that they might have branched out into a more lucrative business now that they’re all senior citizens and thinking about retiring. Maybe they want to buy an island someplace tropical. I don’t think they’re getting a lot of new recruits.”

“Who’s Hank?” I wasn’t sure why I wanted to know, but somehow it seemed important.

“Hank? That must be Hank Miller. He’s a local guy. In fact, I think Sunshine Acres started out as his family’s farm. He seems to be the unofficial leader of Sunshine Acres. I’ve always thought he was a pretty decent guy.”

“Could there be a secret splinter group within the commune, one that Hank doesn’t know about?” For some reason, I wanted Hank to be innocent.

“It’s certainly possible. Hank is business savvy. He’s been running the Acres for decades. But I wouldn’t have thought he could run an extortion business and get away with it till now. I certainly wouldn’t have thought he was capable of murder, or being involved in a murder.”

I glanced down at my watch. “I’ve gotta go. Thank you so much for lending me the boat. I’ll have it back by midnight.” I hoped.

“Why don’t you ask Keith to go with you, if you won’t tell me what this errand of yours is all about?”

“I can’t. I just can’t.”

“You will call me as soon as you get back, at any hour of the night,” she ordered. “If I don’t hear from you by one a.m., I am calling the police. Your trust and your friendship are important to me, but I’d rather have you alive and not trusting me than dead. I know this is somehow mixed up with Big Dom’s death and Spiro being missing, and I am warning you that you are playing with fire.”

That was fair enough, and I would have done the same for her. “I promise I will call as soon as I get back.”

*   *   *

I returned to the kitchen and asked Sophie to accompany me into the hall. She got up stiffly, wincing for the benefit of the kitchen staff, and followed. “Sophie, you need to go home with Marina this afternoon, and spend the night with her again,” I said in a voice I hoped brooked no opposition. She started to protest, but I gave her a look and she stopped midsentence. “This is important. I think I know where Spiro is. I’m hoping he’ll be back tomorrow.”

Her face lit up. “You mean, he’s not dead?” No doubt she had already been on the phone with the Bay’s one funeral home and was trying to figure out the cheapest way to get his corpse back to Greece. Her smile morphed into a furious scowl. “Wait until I get my hands on him, that thieving, ungrateful brat!” She started swearing in Greek, but I put my hand on her arm to stop her.

“Sophie, I have to go and get him.” And do some other things, but she didn’t need to know that. “I don’t want you to be here alone. We’re going to shut down the Bonaparte House tonight.” I waited for the eruption.

“What? It’s Thursday night! Our third busiest night of the week! Do you know how much that will cost me? I’ll go bankrupt!” she shrieked. “We are not closing tonight!”

“Yes, we are,” I said as calmly as I could. “I am going to get Spiro, and you are going to Marina’s when she leaves to go home for the afternoon. We’ll be open again tomorrow for Pirate Days, and we’ll be very busy and make lots of money. Call her, and tell her to wait for you until you get there. Now.”

I stepped back into the kitchen and asked Dolly to oversee the kitchen cleanup and send everyone home early, assuring the staff that I’d pay them their regular wages. A broad smile showcasing her dentures creased her face. She fiddled with the giant gold cross around her neck again.

“Is that new, Dolly? I haven’t seen that pendant before.”

“Yup. Russ bought it for me. He’s such a good son. It’s real, too. I had Roger down at the jewelry shop check it out with that little eye microscope thingie he has.”

Russ? Our dishwasher gofer whom we paid twelve dollars an hour, plus the occasional steak? “Does he have another job?”

“Nah. He didn’t say where he got this. I don’t know if he, uh, paid for it,” she added. “I didn’t see a receipt.”

“Have you talked to him today?”

“Yeah, he called me a while ago. He’s sore but all right. He’s out in his garage right now getting ready for huntin’ season.” Hunting season wasn’t due to start for two months.

“He’ll be in tomorrow?” The busboy hadn’t stopped complaining about doing the dishes since I came in. He wouldn’t be returning next year.

“Yeah, he’ll be back.”

“Good. Have a nice evening off.”

“How come we’re closin’ up?”

I thought fast. “I want everyone rested up for Pirate Days.” Incredibly lame, but she nodded. I don’t think she cared anyway—she was getting the day off and that was all that mattered.

“I’ll just finish up here then and head out.”

*   *   *

Less than an hour later, the last lunch customers had paid their bills, the evening reservations had been rescheduled, and the staff had made it out in record time. I lugged Sophie’s giant suitcase over to the Pancake Heaven and deposited my mother-in-law in a booth at the back of the diner to wait for Marina. A waitress hustled over and brought her a cup of coffee and a raspberry Danish, which looked pretty darn good, but there was no time for a treat.

Marina told me that they would be leaving shortly and that she would keep Sophie home tonight. I replied that Sophie hadn’t been feeling well but wouldn’t admit it. Marina nodded her understanding. “She has troubles now.” She thumped her ample chest. “Heart troubles.” My guess was that Sophie wasn’t suffering much over Big Dom’s death, maybe more like celebrating inwardly at the increase in business she was experiencing, but I decided to allow Sophie her fun and let her cousin make a fuss over her supposedly broken heart. Sophie had spilled the beans to Marina about Big Dom’s proposal, though in her defense there had been no reason to keep it secret prior to the murder.

I went back to the empty Bonaparte House and up to my room. There was time to kill so I started to pick up some of the mess. All the clothes went into a laundry basket I kept in the bathroom. Not knowing who had touched them made me squeamish to wear them, as though some kind of kidnapper cooties might have been transferred. I owned only a few items that would need to be dry-cleaned and pressed, so those just went on top of the pile. Tomorrow I would pay Dolly extra to run a few loads of laundry for me after I made up some story about how virtually every towel and article of clothing I owned got dirty at the same time.

I went back out to the linen closet in the hall, which for some reason had not been touched, and retrieved fresh, non-cootie sheets and a spare blanket from the shelf. I stripped the bed, then remade it, and replaced the rest of the flotsam and jetsam that had spilled out of the closet, stuffing everything in and slamming the door before an avalanche ensued.

I righted my overturned overnight bag and picked up the jumble of papers spilling out of a file folder. Spiro’s research about the Bonapartes and the supposed plot to bring Napoleon here. Frankly, I’d always had my doubts about whether that story was true, but in light of the fact that I’d just been proven wrong about there being a treasure in this house, I wasn’t taking anything for granted anymore. Those ghost hunters might be interested in this stuff for their show. After I had Spiro back, I would scan the most interesting documentation and e-mail it them to see whether maybe they’d want to use any of it as background information.

The room looked presentable, no worse than usual, but I decided to lock my door anyway on my way out. I looked at my watch. Marina and Sophie would definitely be gone by now. I opened my door, took a deep breath, and reached for the blanketed and shower-curtained table near the door. A noise caught my attention. I stood up and listened. There it was again, a very soft and muffled sound coming from Sophie’s room across the hall. She’d left her door open, most likely to try to keep the air circulating up here. I looked around for something I could use as a weapon. I grabbed the first thing I saw—a big barrel curling iron I had left out on top of the dresser. Too bad the thing wasn’t hot, but I’d be able to inflict some damage if I swung it hard enough.

I cautiously peeked out my door, then moved across the hall to Sophie’s door. The noise sounded again, a soft grunt definitely coming from inside. “Come out of there now, whoever you are!” I ordered. I sounded more authoritative than I felt. “People are downstairs and as soon as I scream they will be up here.” I walked in, brandishing the curling iron and nearly tripping over the cord. “You can’t hurt my family anymore!” The noise sounded again, and it seemed to be coming from . . . the wall. That wall adjoined Spiro’s room. I ran over to the wall and put my ear up to it and heard a shuffling sound accompanied by soft moaning.

I ran out into the hallway and flung open Spiro’s door. “Come out and show yourself, you bastard!” Adrenaline surged through me and my fear left. I looked under the bed, in the closet, in the bathroom, but there was no one there. The noise came again, softer this time, then faded out completely. I ran to the wall adjoining Sophie’s room and put my ear to that, but nothing. I was panting by now and stopped to catch my breath. There was nobody in the room with me. Nobody human, that was.