Chapter 27

Kyle touched Thelma Mae’s shoulder. Upon seeing him, her soft sobs became keening wails. From inside Thunder Island, lights popped on, and people rushed to the windows calling out, “What’s wrong?”

Kyle gently shook Thelma Mae’s shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”

Thelma Mae’s sobs only escalated with each question. Now she was hysterical, doubled over on the grass and pounding the ground with her fists as she cried. Jesus! This had to be damn serious. Thelma Mae, the epitome of cool and control, had fractured into a thousand pieces.

“What’s going on?”

Tyler had appeared, asking the question. Beside him stood Plotzy and Raven, anxious expressions on their faces. Kyle looked at them, shrugging his shoulders. Other guests ran out of the house, heading their way in various states of dress, but he didn’t see Jennifer.

Kyle told Thelma Mae, “We can’t help you unless we know what’s going on.”

Thelma Mae threw her head back, gasping for air, but she made no attempt to answer the question. Instead, she seemed to be asking heaven, “Why? Why? Why?”

Lisa and Chuck rushed up. “What’s going on?”

Kyle shook his head. “I’m not sure. An accident, I think. She said something about her son being killed.”

“Impossible! She doesn’t have any children. Do you, Thelma Mae?”

Kyle noticed Plotzy had said this from a safe distance. Thelma Mae was now pulling up chunks of grass and hurling them toward the beach as she sobbed.

Raven ventured up to Kyle’s side, saying, “Thelma Mae, do you have a child?”

“M-m-my boy, Ch-chad.”

“Chad Roberts?”

Lisa’s voice was indignant, almost outraged. Kyle had to admit this was a stretch. No two people seemed less likely to be related than blond, blue-eyed Chad and dark-eyed Thelma Mae with her gloss black hair.

“She’s lost it,” Lisa said in a low voice to her brother. “Sometimes people go like that. They just snap.”

“No,” Kyle said, “something’s happened.”

He looked around at the small group, most of them in night clothes, hair tousled. There were a couple of new faces, tourists he didn’t know who must have arrived just that evening. The regulars were all there except for Jennifer and Chad.

He asked, “Has anybody seen Chad?”

The instant he uttered the name, Thelma Mae wailed even louder. She’d stopped throwing grass now and was clawing at the dirt with her bare fingers. Raven tried to pull her upright, but the older woman shoved her away.

“Let’s call a doctor,” suggested Tyler.

“Right-o. I’ll call Dr. Martens.”

“Plotzy, you dummy. Dr. Martens are shoes,” Chuck said.

“Let’s call an ambulance,” Tyler said.

“Tell them it’s a psycho case,” Lisa said. “They may want to bring a straight jacket.”

“Oh, no,” cried Raven. “She needs a doctor. That’s all.”

Kyle wasn’t so certain. He had zero experience with grief-stricken women, but this seemed to be much too intense to be normal. It might be some type of psychotic episode.

Raven touched Thelma Mae’s shoulder. “If we can’t help you, we’re going to have to call an ambulance to take you to the hospital.”

Thelma Mae’s sobs became quieter, and she stopped clawing the ground. Tears were still coursing down her cheeks, but she managed to speak.

“Ch-ch-chad … my baby.” Thelma Mae stood up and walked toward the water.

“See, I told you she was ready for the funny farm,” Lisa said. “Chad would have told me if Thelma Mae was his mother.”

“Right-o. She never mentioned it to me, and we’ve been friends for years.”

“What’s Thelma Mae doing?” Raven asked.

She was standing in the water, the foaming surf covering her shoes. Her arms were outstretched as if she were reaching for someone.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Lisa protested with a disgusted huff. “Let’s call nine-one-one.”

As much as he resented Lisa’s callous attitude, he thought she might be right. They needed professional help.

“Tyler, watch Thelma Mae. Don’t let her do anything foolish,” Kyle said, taking charge.

“Like what?” Plotzy asked.

“Like hurt someone or herself, you idiot,” Lisa said.

“Lisa, you call nine-one-one,” Kyle said. “Chuck, come with me. We’ll check Chad’s room and see if he can help.”

“What’s Chad’s room number?” Chuck asked his sister.

Lisa shrugged. “I don’t know. He always comes to my room.”

Kyle asked, “Does anyone know which room is Chad’s?”

“We could ask Thelma Mae,” suggested Plotzy.

“Sure, Plotzy.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “Great idea.”

“Chad’s staying in the widow’s waiting room.”

Kyle recognized Jennifer’s voice as she walked up to them. Even in the hazy light, he could see she’d been crying. “Jen, what’s wrong?”

“Why are you crying?” asked Lisa.

“Did Chad make you cry?” Plotzy wanted to know.

Jennifer didn’t answer. Her eyes were on Kyle as if she expected something from him. He rushed over to her and put his arm around her, pulling her close to his side. She leaned against him in a way that signaled she needed him.

“I’m all right,” she said, her voice ragged from crying. “I was just thinking about my mother … and things.”

“Did something happen to your mother?” Raven asked.

“She died years ago,” Kyle told everyone.

“Have you seen Chad?” Chuck asked as if Jennifer’s tears weren’t important.

Kyle hugged her closer, asking, “You okay?”

She looked up at him, her eyes misty. “I’m fine now.” She turned toward Chuck. “I haven’t seen Chad since sunset at Mallory Dock, but I know his room is up there.” She pointed to the widow’s waiting room behind the widow’s walk on top of Thunder Island.

“There’s nothing up there,” insisted Plotzy. “It’s a false room. Thelma Mae told me all about it.”

Lisa flounced over to Jennifer. “Chad’s staying up there? I don’t think so. He would have told me.”

“It’s a secret room,” Jennifer said, ignoring the jealousy in Lisa’s voice. To Kyle, she said, “Come on. I’ll show you.”

They started toward the house, the group following, and Kyle looked over his shoulder at Thelma Mae. She was still standing in the surf, deep sobs racking her body as she silently cried. Tyler was with her, talking to her, but they were too far away to hear what he was saying.

Jennifer led them inside and up the stairs to the second floor landing where a watercolor of the Donkey Milk House hung on the high-gloss paneling. The owner of the meticulously restored mansion was a friend of Trevor’s, and Kyle had attended a party there. He’d admired the painting each time he’d walked by, but he hadn’t paid much attention to the slightly larger grove in the paneling near the watercolor.

Jennifer put the palm of her hand next to the painting and pressed. The paneling popped open, revealing a very narrow staircase. At the top of the dark stairs, light seeped out from under a door.

“I’ll be damned. There is a room up there,” Chuck said.

“Chad’s room?” Lisa asked Jennifer, and she nodded.

“Why would Thelma Mae lie about the room?” Raven asked.

What else was she hiding? Kyle wondered.

“If the light’s on in that room, why didn’t we see it from the beach?” Raven wanted to know.

“Good question,” Chuck said as he winked at her.

“You’re pretty smart for a fan dancer,” Lisa added.

“There’s special paint on the windows.” Jennifer looked up at him as she talked. Her eyes were still puffy and red, but her voice no longer sounded teary. “Even if the lights are on, you can’t see them from outside.”

“Are we going to stand here talking this to death, or is someone going to see if Chad is up there?” asked Tyler.

“I thought you were with Thelma Mae,” Kyle said.

“Plotzy took over. He knows her better.”

“Great, just great.” Kyle stepped forward, disgusted. Plotzy was worth next to nothing in situations like this. “I’ll check on Chad. Everyone else stay here.”

“Why?” Lisa asked.

“In case it’s a crime scene.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” Chuck asked.

“I sure as hell hope so.” But inside he had a hinkie feeling about this. Thelma Mae had flipped out. There had to be a reason why.

Near the top of the dark stairs, almost hidden in the shadows, he spotted something on the floor. He bent down to pick it up, then stopped, reminding himself of crime scene protocol. He looked closer. It was a small, white cocktail napkin with TI in one corner. A Thunder Island cocktail napkin.

He kept going, calling out, “Chad, Chad,” as he approached the door. No answer. He knocked, then waited.

“Is he there?” yelled Chuck from the bottom of the stairs.

“I don’t know.” Kyle tried the doorknob and found it was unlocked. He swung it open. “Chad?”

His SEAL training kicked in and he quickly scanned the room to see what he was up against.

A broken glass on the floor.

Droplets of blood.

A double bed that no one had slept in. A cell phone on the nightstand. A Tiffany style lamp. A pair of cutoff shorts thrown or dropped on the highly polished wood floor.

Barefoot, he stepped into the small room and craned his neck to look into the adjacent bathroom. No one was in there. He took another step, taking care to avoid stepping on broken glass and saw flesh.

The heel of a bare foot was partially concealed by the dust ruffle on the bed. Aw, shit! Kyle inched forward, his height giving him an advantage. He could see over the bed at this angle, when most people couldn’t have.

Chad Roberts was sprawled across the floor on the far side of the bed, a knife in his chest.

Kyle backed out of the room, trying to put his feet exactly where they’d been to preserve the crime scene. Jesus! No wonder Thelma Mae had gone bonkers.

Jennifer could tell by the way Kyle carefully descended the stairs that something was terribly wrong. The others were asking questions, but she didn’t add to the confusion.

“Call the police,” Kyle said as he neared the group. “Chad’s been murdered.”

“Is he dead?” Plotzy had appeared on the stairs behind them.

“No, he’s still alive.” Chuck’s voice dripped sarcasm.

Lisa had collapsed against her brother, her fist shoved against her mouth to stifle a scream of disbelief. Jennifer tried to feel something but couldn’t. She’d been out on the beach, reliving the past, and thinking about her future. She’d cried so hard and so long as she had finally exorcised the demons who had possessed her emotionally all this time.

She had nothing left to give.

Of course, she didn’t want Chad to die, but the gut-wrenching emotion Lisa was experiencing or the quiet tears Raven was shedding, didn’t seem right for her.

“We were going to be married,” Lisa said as the tears began to fall.

Jennifer caught Raven’s eye. The brunette was standing beside Chuck, tears tumbling down her cheeks, but Chuck had his arm around his sister. Raven shook her head just enough to ruffle her long hair and let Jennifer know she understood. Chad had conned yet another woman.

Kyle took charge, closing the concealed panel and telling the group, “Let’s all wait downstairs for the police.”

“Police?” Plotzy questioned, wide-eyed. “We’re one street beyond Old Town’s boundary. Call the sheriff. We’re in his, his”—Plotzy turned to Tyler—“his what?”

“Jurisdiction. We’re in the sheriff’s jurisdiction.”

From the search for Holly Block, Jennifer remembered Sheriff Prichett, the redneck who despised her. An inexplicable feeling of dread waltzed down her spine.

They trailed along behind Kyle down the stairs and into the large drawing room where guests gathered. It was a room filled with comfortable wicker furniture, but everyone sat on the edge of their seats while Kyle made the call, and they waited for the sheriff to arrive.

Kyle hung up and came over to sit beside her. “You okay?” he whispered. When she nodded, he asked, “Why were you so upset?”

“I’ll explain later. It has nothing to do with this. It’s about us.”

He squeezed her hand and smiled. Her heart did a lazy backflip. She’d spent half the night walking the shoreline, thinking about her life, and finally coming to a decision about her future. She knew what she wanted—finally.

But did she and Kyle want the same thing?

“Help! Help!” a guest she didn’t know rushed into the room, waving her arms and screaming. “I think she’s dead.”

Everyone jumped up asking, “Who?”

“The lady who runs this place.”

They all ran out of the house to the beach where they’d last seen Thelma Mae. Her prone body was on the shore just beyond the surf. Two of the hotel guests were with her. From the looks of his clothes, one of the men had gone into the water to get her.

“W-we tried to save her but—but we couldn’t.”

Kyle kneeled beside the lifeless form and tried CPR. Jennifer waited with the others, silently wondering how all of this fit together. It was obvious Thelma Mae had ended her life by drowning.

Finally, Kyle rocked back on his heels and shook his head. “It’s no use.”

Plotzy stumbled forward, wailing, “Thelma Mae said she just wanted to avoid the curse. I knew she couldn’t swim, but I let her go into the water anyway. Avoiding the curse is so important, you know.”

“You said the curse strikes at sundown,” Raven pointed out. “This is sunrise.”

Plotzy turned red and shrugged. “I was confused.”

To say Plotzy was intellectually challenged would be an understatement, Jennifer decided. Either that or he was a terrific actor.