30

The rapid acceleration knocked me sideways. I fell against the side of the speedboat, hitting my injured arm in the process. Screeching with pain, I struggled into a sitting position. Peering over the side, I spotted Sile leaping into her boat, high-jump style.

“Good luck,” Lenny yelled over the roar of the engine. “She won’t get that boat started any time soon.”

When we were a safe distance from Dolphin Island, Lenny slowed a little and got us both into our life jackets. My arm hurt like the devil, but I breathed through the pain and coped. To distract myself, I filled in Lenny about Liam’s jewel smuggling investigation and my theory that Theresa was involved.

“But why was her bag in Noel’s cottage?” Lenny shook his head. “I don’t get it. Does that mean Noel was involved too?”

“I don’t know,” I shouted over the noise. “Right now, I’m more concerned about where we’re going and if we have a plan for what we’re going to do when we get there.”

“We’ll visit the caravan park,” Lenny replied at an equally deafening volume. “Sile was on her way there when her father called and ordered her to pick you up. I want to learn more about Theresa from the people she lived and worked with.”

As plans went, it was sound. In any case, I was too exhausted and pain-ridden to create a foolproof strategy to clear our names. “Okay. Sounds good.”

The noise precluded further conversation, and we spent the rest of the journey back to Whisper Island in silence. I battled the wind for control over my hair and kept an eye out for Sile. No boat was yet in pursuit.

After a tense and bouncy ride, we roared into the harbor at Smuggler’s Cove and docked at the pier. Lenny helped me remove my life jacket and I struggled out of the boat. Unused to boats in general and speedboats in particular, my legs were wobblier than my one and only attempt at a cheese soufflé.

I staggered down the pier, barely acknowledging the shouted greetings from sailors and people waiting in line to catch the ferry to the mainland. When we got as far as the car park, Trudy Nelson had pulled into the space beside Lenny’s purple VW van. My stomach sank. I wasn’t in the mood to discuss my lack of progress in locating her cat, but I could hardly ignore the woman.

As expected, Trudy pounced the moment she saw me. “Maggie,” she called. “Any news on my Quibbles?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Trudy. I’ve scoured the island for him, but no luck.”

The old lady’s lower lip trembled. “He must be somewhere, though. He’s such a sweet cat. He doesn’t like to be away from me for long. What could’ve happened to him?”

In my opinion, Quibbles had had a close encounter with wheels, but I couldn’t be that direct with his doting owner. Equally, I wasn’t prepared to let her keep paying me to search the island for a cat I was never going to find. “Listen, Trudy, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but I don’t think there’s much point in my continuing this investigation. I’ve asked all over the island and plastered the place with posters. No one’s seen Quibbles.”

“He can’t have vanished into thin air,” Trudy protested. “Please keep trying. I’ll increase the reward money and I’ll double your weekly fee.”

A vision of my pile of unpaid bills danced before my eyes. Con’s money would take care of them, but as I’d failed to find the person responsible for sabotaging his set, I could kiss goodbye to the bonus. I placed a hand on the old lady’s shoulder. “I can’t take your money, Trudy. I’m sorry to say it, but Quibbles might’ve been hit by a car or met with a farmyard accident.”

Tears spilled down her wrinkled cheeks. On autopilot, I pulled a clean tissue out of my pocket and handed it to her. “I’m holding out hope until I know for sure,” she said after she’d dabbed at her eyes. “One more week, Maggie. Please. I’ll double your fee.”

I met Lenny’s impatient gaze and sighed. “Okay. One more week, but at the rate you’ve paid me up to now.”

Trudy’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, Maggie. I’m sure you think I’m a silly old lady, but Quibbles is my companion. Even if he’s…gone, I need to know.”

“I’ll do my best to find him, but I can’t make any promises,” I said gently.

“I know, dear. I realize it’s a lot for you to juggle with the death on your sister’s film set. I really am grateful.”

Had anyone else on Whisper Island made reference to Theresa’s untimely demise, I’d have suspected them of fishing for information. Trudy wasn’t like that. She was pretty self-contained, and had no interest in local gossip.

“Why don’t you call by my office on Friday, and we’ll talk over coffee?” I suggested, hoping against hope that the mess of the assault charge would be sorted by then. “Say, around ten?”

“I’m more partial to tea,” Trudy admitted, in an unconscious parallel to my conversation with Theresa on Thursday.

I recalled the dusty pack of Darjeeling, still languishing in my office, and added fresh tea bags to my mental shopping list.

Lenny opened the driver’s door to his van and cleared his throat.

“I’ve got to go, Trudy. I’ll see you for tea on Friday.” Leaving the old lady brooding over her loss, I climbed into the van, and we shot out of the car park.

When we reached the road, Lenny hit the gas. We zoomed past the food trucks and left the town, taking the road to Happy Campers. “We’ll start by questioning people at the caravan park,” he said, “and then head back to the harbor and ask at the food trucks.”

“Good idea.”

We bumped up the dirt track and swung through the open gates of the caravan park. A gaggle of kids was enjoying the lovely weather, and a group of mothers hung laundry on washing lines to dry in the warmth of the sun.

“Sammy mentioned that Theresa didn’t get along with her neighbor, Ann Russell,” I said. “Do you know her?”

“Only by sight,” Lenny said. “I know her husband better. Or ex-husband. I’m not sure of their current status.” He stopped the van in the middle of the park, and we climbed out. Lenny drew my attention to a mousy-looking woman who was hanging laundry in front of her caravan. A caravan, I noted, that stood beside Theresa’s. 

“That’s Ann,” Lenny said, confirming my guess.

We approached the woman, careful not to scare the wits out of her by suddenly rising up from behind one of her bedsheets. “Hey, Ann. How are you doing?” Lenny’s roar seemed unnecessarily loud.

Ann looked up and adjusted her hearing aid. Ah. That explained Lenny’s volume.

“Hello, Lenny.” Her gaze swiveled toward me. “I see you’re here again.”

It took me a second to follow what she was saying. “Yeah. I came to talk to Theresa yesterday morning. I suppose you saw me.”

“Theresa was the kind of neighbor that made me glad to be hard of hearing.” Ann shook her head. “That woman had a vile tongue on her.”

“She won’t be using it on anyone anymore,” I said.

The other woman nodded. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but I’m not sad to see the back of her.”

A noise emanated from within Theresa’s rust-streaked yellow caravan, causing Lenny and me to jump.

“What was that?” Lenny demanded.

“Shush,” I said, “and let’s listen.” We fell silent, but the sound had stopped. I shrugged. Strange. “Anyhow, Mrs. Russell—”

“Ann.” Her expression hardened. “And I go by Crane now. I don’t want anything to do with that man.”

I exchanged a glance with Lenny. Clearly, this answered his query about Ann’s relationship status.

To my surprise, Ann burst into tears. It took me a sec to react. Then I extracted my only remaining tissue from my pocket and handed it to her. “I’m sorry if I upset you, Ann. I didn’t realize you’d changed your surname.”

“All because of that witch.” She jabbed a finger at Theresa’s caravan. “I don’t care if she’s dead. She was a nasty piece of work, and she wrecked my marriage.”

I sucked in a breath, and the puzzle pieces started to fit together. “Was Theresa involved with your husband?”

“Involved?” Ann’s face contorted. “That’s a delicate way of putting it. They had an affair. They’re still having an affair, or at least they were until Theresa did the only good thing she ever did in her life and died.”

Whoa. Okay, then… “Um, Ann,” I began, “do you know anything about the death threats Theresa was getting?”

The older woman crumpled. Her face sagged, her shoulders slumped, and she collapsed onto a chair in front of her caravan. “How do you know about the letters?”

“Theresa asked me to investigate and discover who was sending them.” I didn’t add that the investigation had never been formalized and Theresa had fired me before she’d hired me. “I think I have my answer.”

Ann put her head in her hands. “I just wanted to scare her. I didn’t mean anything by them.”

“You sent her death threats,” I said, “including one with a deadline that ended on the night she died. That’s not a good look.”

“I know,” she wailed. “I’ve been living in fear that the police will come and arrest me. I don’t know how Theresa died, but if the police find out I was threatening her, they’ll think I killed her.”

I placed my one good arm on my hip. “Did you?”

“No,” she exclaimed. “I haven’t been near Dolphin Island this summer. I can’t bear the place after she and Tom…” Ann broke off on a sob. When she got herself under control, she turned to us, her pinched face drawn. “I swear to you I didn’t hurt Theresa. The letters were just meant to scare her. She ruined my life, and she ruined Tom’s life. Until she got her claws into him, Tom was doing just fine. He’d put prison behind him, and got a job as a taxi driver. We were making a go of things again.”

My conversation with Jim in the taxi yesterday morning came flooding back. He’d cursed out the taxi driver who’d cut in front of us—the cab that had Theresa as its passenger. And Jim had mentioned the driver by name: Tom Russell. “Do you know if Tom and Theresa ever visited Dolphin Island together?”

Ann took a shuddery breath. “That’s where they used to meet. That’s why I hate the place. Tom would borrow John Bellamy’s boat, and they’d go out to that island.”

“You mentioned prison,” I said gently. “Do you mind telling me what your husband did to get a prison sentence?”

“Do I mind? Yes. But everyone in this caravan park knows about Tom’s past, so what’s the point in refusing?” Ann squared her shoulders. “He was done for selling stolen goods.”

My pulse picked up the pace. “What sort of stolen goods?”

“Watches. Jewels. Cufflinks. But Tom’s specialty was crystal jewelry.”

I clutched Lenny’s arm. “It was him,” I whispered. “He killed Theresa. We have to call Liam.”

“What was that you said?” Ann demanded, fiddling with her hearing aid. “What did Tom do this time?”

Ignoring her question, my assistant pulled his phone from his pocket. Before he hit Liam’s number, an unnatural cacophony sounded from within Theresa’s caravan. The hissing and yowling of a trapped wild animal.

We all stared at the closed door.

“What’s that?” Ann cupped her ear. “Did I hear something?”

“Ann,” I asked, “does anyone in the caravan park have a key to Theresa’s place? I think something’s in there.” A vision of the blood in Noel’s kitchen danced before my eyes. Something…or someone?

“None of us could stand Theresa,” Ann replied. “Apart from stealing my husband, she had a reputation for being light-fingered, and bad-tempered. No way would anyone mind her spare key.”

“We don’t need a key to get into the caravan.” Lenny reached into his pocket and withdrew a Swiss Army knife.

“Are we adding breaking and entering to our long list of crimes for the day?”

He grinned at me. “Looks like it.” After a few seconds of fiddling, the lock gave way. Lenny stood back, triumphant. “Wanna see what’s in there?”

I regarded the closed door warily. “No, but I guess we have to.”

Lenny opened the door and stood back. For a moment, nothing happened. And then, with a blood-curdling yowl, a very large, very orange, and very angry cat hurled itself through the air, and flattened my assistant.

I peered at it in disbelief. “Quibbles?”