Ransom at Sea (11 page)

At the table in the center of the room sat Marcella and Emily with Lynn and Rebecca, the latter of whom was uncomfortably aware of the animosity being directed toward their table. It wasn't just toward her aunt: in the sidelong glances Rebecca perceived the implied criticism that she shouldn't have brought Marcella on the trip at all, or barring that, she should've made it her duty to keep a closer eye on her. Or a tighter muzzle.

While the passengers ate, the captain got the boat under way, heading out of the harbor and up the coast to the next stop on the tour. Rebecca and Marcella had seen him on their way to the dining room, and he'd greeted them with nothing more than a cheery good morning, which made Rebecca realize that the subject of last night's disturbance had been dismissed. Then again, she thought that was probably a good thing, because her aunt had made no mention of the incident since getting up, and for all Rebecca knew she could've entirely forgotten the episode.

After breakfast the passengers retired to the white deck where the chairs were all instantly adjusted to the reclining position.

Emily and Lynn had taken seats along the starboard railing where they could again enjoy the passing scenery. Marcella sat to Emily's right, and Rebecca was beside Lynn. It was less than ten minutes before Marcella's eyes drifted shut, and she began emitting an energetic wheeze that closely resembled steam escaping from an old-fashioned radiator.

“She's asleep,” Rebecca said quietly.

“I gathered that,” Lynn replied with a smile.

There was a pause. “I don't know what I'm going to do.”

Lynn turned her eyes toward her. “About what?”

“This trip. I really didn't realize how bad she'd gotten. I don't know if … after last night, I don't know if we should get off at the next stop and I should take her home.”

Lynn experienced an unexpected pang. “I suppose you could do that, but don't you think she'd … resist the idea? Kick up a fuss?”

“You're probably right,” Rebecca said with a heavy sigh.

Lynn glanced at Emily, then turned back to Rebecca. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, Emily had an interesting insight about last night's business.”

“What's that?”

“She thought your aunt probably did see someone.”

“What?” Rebecca said this more loudly than she meant to. Marcella sputtered noisily, then quickly settled back into her regular wheezing.

“I don't mean she saw something shifty going on. Emily just thinks she might have seen something that she misinterpreted—like, maybe somebody heard a noise in her room and just took a peek in to make sure everything was all right.”

“But … but why wouldn't whoever it was have owned up to that?”

“As hysterical as your aunt was? Probably out of fear.”

Rebecca looked out toward the shoreline as she considered this. It wasn't long before she began to relax. “You know, I hadn't thought of that. Maybe you're right.”

“Not me,” Lynn said with a smile. “Emily. And there's no maybe about it. Emily's almost always right.”

*   *   *

It took a little less than an hour and a half for the
Genessee
to reach their second port of call, Macaw. Much smaller than Sangamore, the meager number of year-round residents rated only one mail box, and that was located in front of Friendly's General Store, which also housed the counter that served as the town's post office.

Friendly's was a long wooden structure with its back to the water, and had docks extending outward from it.

“Macaw is a great nature outpost,” Samantha explained to the company as the boat slowly flowed into a slip. “Just to the south you'll find a visitor's nature center with maps of the trails through the wooded areas and along the lake. Just in case you're worried that the trails might be a little rough, the people of Macaw and the neighboring villages have marked them out with plenty of benches, so there's a lot of places to sit and rest. There are also campgrounds in every direction so there's usually a lot of people around, and even though it's a little early in the year, the weather is bound to have brought out some. And there's plenty of public facilities should you need them.”

“Public facilities,” Driscoll said in a loud whisper a few inches from Emily's right ear. “That'd mean a hole in the ground with a box around it.” Today he wore a white shirt over tan and white checked pants.

“I see you've regained your humor,” Emily said lightly.

“Ha! That's the one thing they can't take away from me!”

“Although there are a few little shops here for those of you who are so inclined,” Samantha continued, “there aren't a lot of places to eat, so we'll be serving lunch on the boat at twelve-thirty, and dinner at six.”

“It's just after ten,” Lynn said with a glance at her watch.

“That will give us time for a nice little walk before lunch,” said Emily.

The gangplank was secured in place and the passengers disembarked, much in the same order as they had the previous day, with the single exception of Lily DuPree, who had decided to stay behind and read on the deck. This decision left Muriel bobbing amongst the remaining passengers like a pinball searching for a slot.

Samantha smiled and shook her head as she watched them go, then went down to the dining room to make sure it had been cleared of the breakfast things. She found the room properly cleaned, but was surprised when she heard the clink of glassware coming from the lounge. She went around the corner, stopped and folded her arms. David Douglas was behind the bar, unnecessarily wiping the insides of the glasses.

“David, there's no need to do that now,” said Samantha.

“Huh?” He started, and his head snapped in her direction. “Oh, I just like having everything shipshape.”

She gave him an indulgent smile. “Yes, I know, but it's time to get the cabins in shape, and Hoke's not supposed to have to do that alone.”

“But I thought—”

She shook her head. “Everyone has gone ashore except Miss DuPree, and I doubt if she'll be wanting a cocktail.”

David laughed as he came out from behind the bar. “You're probably right.”

“Now, come on, David,” Samantha said without rancor. “You know you're supposed to help with everything.”

“Aye, aye, Skipper! Didn't mean to shirk my duty!”

She laughed. “It's all right.”

“Why didn't little Miss DuPree go ashore with the rest?”

“Afraid to, I think. The point of stopping here is for the passengers to go on some nature walks, but I think she's a little too frail. She's sitting up on deck reading a book.”

“Ah,” he said as they went through the starboard door.

“Which reminds me—Neil and I are going for a walk ourselves, so you might want to check on Miss DuPree in a little while and see if she needs anything.”

“Will do.” He gave her a cheery salute, then hopped down the stairs to the blue deck.

*   *   *

The passengers had to make their way down the dock to the back of the general store, which had large barnlike doors that were closed to keep in the air-conditioning, and bolted from within. There were a pair of windows on either side of the doors. A walkway circled the building in both directions, and the passengers split into two groups and started around it. When the group that had gone to the left reached the side of the building, the Millers stopped in their tracks. A narrow, deserted beach stretched north as far as the eye could see.

“
Look
at it!” Laura exclaimed delightedly. “Look at all the deadwood!”

“Make for some great pictures!” her husband agreed.

There was a two-foot drop from the walk to the sand below. Martin jumped down, then Laura took a more tentative leap while her husband held her waist. As he lowered her to the ground he spun her away from the walk. Laura giggled and the two of them embraced, then they hurried away up the beach.

“Sort of like a wrinkly ballet, isn't it?” said Driscoll.

Emily couldn't help laughing openly at this.

“If I didn't know better, Miss Charters, I would think I was winning you over!”

“I wasn't aware you were trying to.”

Their group came around the front of the store just as the rest appeared at the opposite corner. They converged in the middle, where they lost another member when Stuart Holmes disappeared into the store.

“He said to go on without him,” Jackson Brock explained. “He wants to make some calls.”

The group stood there for a moment getting their bearings. The store was on a two-lane paved road, the opposite side of which was bordered by a thickset forest. A handful of shops were nestled among the trees, and a pair of hikers were peering into the window of one of them—a small wooden building above whose door was a slab of driftwood on which the word Leatherworks had been burned.

“That must be the visitor's center over there,” Brock said with the tentativeness of someone who doesn't want to be viewed as trying to assume command.

They all looked to the right. Beside the general store was a small parking lot, and beyond that a wide, solidly worn path leading up to an octagonal, gazebolike structure. They moved toward this in an untidy mass.

“This is really an odd place to bring an elderly tour, isn't it?” Rebecca said, keeping her voice low.

“Why?” Lynn asked.

“It's mainly nature trails. All that walking…”

“I'm surprised at you, Becky.” She fell into using the nickname without a thought. “None of these people are infirm. You've seen them shop!”

For the first time in their acquaintance, Lynn was treated to the sound of Rebecca's laugh.

“But seriously,” Lynn continued, “I think being out in nature is very healthy, and the Farradays seem to have chosen this stop with a lot of care. They picked a place with benches and facilities and people all around. Everything will be fine.”

When they reached the visitor's center, Driscoll propped open one of the screen doors and struck a comic salute as the group passed through. Inside, the building was devoid of furniture save for two rustic benches. The walls were covered with slots containing maps of the trails, schedules of summer activities in the area, and brochures advertising everything from fresh fruit to hay rides to guided nature tours.

Claudia Trent, clad in a mint green suit, a pair of dark green sunglasses, and the inevitable sunhat, marched across the room to the rack, grabbed one of the trail maps, then turned on her heel and strode out of the building without a word to anyone.

Driscoll and Brock watched her leave, then Driscoll gave the remainder of the company a quiet once-over. Emily, Lynn, Rebecca, and Marcella were looking through the brochures. On the other side of the room, Muriel Langstrom's lips were moving as she surveyed a notice about campground safety.

“Well, Jackson,” Driscoll said as he gave him a genial slap on the back, “looks like it's you and me.”

As he said this he unceremoniously ushered Brock toward the door, but he wasn't quite fast enough.

“Oh! Oh! Mr. Driscoll! Mr. Brock! Are you going on a walk?” Muriel sputtered.

“Why, yes, Miss Langstrom,” Driscoll replied, not quite covering his dismay. “That's the general idea of comin' here.”

“
Could
I go with you? I'm terribly timid about going into the woods! I'm sure I couldn't do it alone.”

“Well, we're going to walk pretty fast, I think—”

“Oh, that's fine!” she cut him off eagerly. “I'm a very good walker. I walk all the time! I know I could keep up. It's second nature to me!”

“Don't you think…” Driscoll gave a nod in the direction of the other four women.

Muriel glanced at them, then stepped closer to him and said in a spirited whisper, “I wouldn't feel safe going out into the woods with only
women.
I would just be too frightened. There's no telling what could happen to us. I'd feel much safer with a man.”

Inwardly crestfallen, Driscoll had no polite way to refuse, so he acquiesced. “Sure, ma'am. You can come along with us.” He called across to the other women. “Emily? Ladies? Would you like to go with us? Make up a good team!”

“Oh, no,” Emily said pleasantly. “Thank you for asking, but you go ahead. We're going to take our time.”

His puttylike face fell. “Oh. Well. Okay.”

He held the door open again, and Muriel took the lead followed by a suitably bemused Brock. Driscoll shot Emily a resigned grimace before trailing after them, closing the door behind him.

Lynn had been looking at one of the trail maps. She said, “One of the trails starts right across the road from here. Why don't we try that one, and just have a short walk this morning? After lunch we can see if we want to try a longer one.”

“Sounds good,” said Rebecca.

Emily agreed, and Marcella grunted as if she saw a secret flaw in the plan but was unwilling to point out what it was. However, she was happy to be on the move. She led the way, banging out through the screen door and coming to a stop at the edge of the road.

“There it is!” she exclaimed happily when the others caught up with her.

On the opposite side there was an opening among the trees marked with a green shield-shaped sign that said Trail Three.

Marcella started to charge across the road but Rebecca grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Wait! I hear a car.”

They looked to their right where the road inclined and crested. Driscoll, Brock, and Muriel were walking up a path alongside it toward its top. An olive green sedan came into view and whipped past the three on the path, then past the four women. It stopped quite suddenly when it was even with the parking lot for the general store, then pulled in.

“Now, that is very curious,” said Emily.