Blood Kin (15 page)

“That's for me to know and you to find out.” He shrugged. “Just consider me a man of mystery.”

“And where do you expect to sleep tonight? There aren't exactly any Holiday Inns on the island.”

He flashed her a charming smile. “Is your bed a double?”

“Forget that.”

He laughed. “It wouldn't be the first time. Remember New Year's Eve, when we got back from—”

“That night is something I prefer to forget. Lucky for you, Emma has an empty room. Sixty dollars.” She held out her hand.

“Well, actually, babe, all I've got is what I need to pay Captain Kidd to take me back to civilization, and an extra ten bucks for gas. I sort of hit Crisfield on empty.”

“Why does that sound familiar?” She'd have to pay Emma for his room, but she didn't really care. After what her ex had cost her, a night's lodging was peanuts. “I am glad you brought a bike, though. We can ride out to the farm in the morning. Wait until you see the view.”

“You're right,” Elliott said the following day after they'd explored the house, the beach, and the grounds on
Elizabeth's property. “This is worth a bundle. And I know just the guy who can help you get the most out of it. Why don't you come back with me this afternoon, and I'll set up a meeting with Steve? He handles big deals like this all the time.”

“Thanks, but no, thanks. I think there's some kind of thing in the will where I have to offer the house and land for sale to the locals first.”

“You can't do that,” he said. “Not until you know what it's worth. You could be sitting on a couple million here. How many acres did you say went with the house?”

“It's really a special island,” she said. “There's so much history. Even going to the churchyard gives me chills. All those ancestors buried there. It's like I have real roots, you know?”

Elliott plucked a blade of grass and bit it. “Dum-dum-dum-dum,” he teased. “First the innocent girl is lured to the island by the promise of a fortune. And then the vampires come out of the graves at night to
suck her blood
.”

“You're not funny. I've met some really nice people here.”

“Sure, like Miss Emma. Where did she get those overalls and those rubber boots? She looks like she wandered in out of a cow barn.”

“Emma's sweet. I like her. And I don't care what she wears.”

“Right. That is one ugly old woman. Her nose looks like somebody broke it and stuck it on lopsided.”

Bailey gave him a playful shove. “And yours is so perfect?”

“I like to think so.” He caught her by the shoulders and pulled her toward him.

When he leaned to kiss her, Bailey turned her face so that his lips brushed her cheek. “Don't.”

“Was it so bad?”

“Sometimes it was.”

“Don't you believe in redemption? We could give it another try.”

“I'll pass. I think I like having you for a friend better than a husband.”

“You're cold, Bails. Icy cold.”

“Actually,” she said, trying to change the subject, “I was thinking I might keep a few acres for a summer cottage.”

“It's the water. The water's drugged. Run! Run before the vampires get you. Isn't it a full moon tonight?”

“No.” She laughed. “It isn't a full moon, and there aren't any more vampires on Tawes than on the mainland. Just people who don't like change.”

“I worry about you.”

“Don't,” she said. “I'm doing fine. I've made friends here.”

“And you're coming back to Delaware when, exactly?”

“As soon as the attorney settles the estate. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Okay.” He dug into his waist pack. “But I'd feel better if you'd carry this with you.” He tossed her a key chain with a pepper spray container attached. “Just in case.”

“I thought you needed a silver bullet to stop vampires.”

“Nope. Pepper spray. It works every time.”

Elliott made a final plea for her to leave with him before loading his bike onto the waiting
Naughty Lady
in the harbor a little after three that afternoon. “Call me,” he insisted. “And don't listen to any scams about selling
that property to locals. Promise me you won't do anything until you talk to Steve.”

“Good-bye, Elliott. Hope you're not late for work. And next time, save more than ten dollars for gas. You'll be lucky if that gets you across the Maryland line.”

Elliott waved and she waved back.

“Hey, there.” Cathy called to her from the end of the dock. “I was afraid for a minute that you were leaving.”

“Just a friend of mine,” Bailey explained. “He thinks I'm going to be devoured by vampires.”

“Yikes.” Cathy laughed. “Should I be worried? Does he know something I don't?”

“I hope not.”

“Isn't it awful about Creed Somers? I guess you heard right away. You'd have to, what with Emma and Daniel at the house. What's up with Daniel? This is getting to be a bad habit, his discovering bodies.”

“I know,” Bailey agreed, falling in step beside her as they walked toward the center of the village. “Creepy, isn't it? After the senator.”

“Faceup under the ice. Yuck. Could it be any worse?” She grimaced. “It gives me nightmares just thinking about it.”

“My nightmares are all about someone whistling nursery rhymes.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bailey shook her head.

“Have you got time for a cup of coffee? I just put a pot on. I'd like to ask a favor.”

“Sure, if I can.”

“We turn here. It's not far.”

“Nothing in Tawes is far,” Bailey replied.

“You've got that right.” Then Cathy's mood grew serious. “I just heard from Margaret Thomas that the medical examiner found the remains of a second body in the ashes of Creed's house. They think it's a woman, but they can't be sure. There wasn't much left after the fire.”

“A woman? How terrible. Bad enough that Creed—”

“It's probably Ida Love.” Cathy waved at a boy sitting on the back step of a white clapboard two-story house with a picket fence around it. “Hi, Josh.”

“Hi, Mrs. Tilghman.”

“Tell your mom I said thanks for the baby clothes.”

“I will.”

Cathy lowered her voice as they walked past the far corner of Josh's yard. “I don't know if you could say that Ida was Creed's girlfriend, but they drank together a lot. And they were always getting into scraps. Afterward, one or the other would have a black eye or a fat lip.”

Bailey stopped. “That's terrible. I didn't know Creed that well, but he didn't seem like a man who would abuse a woman.”

Cathy shrugged. “It was probably mutual abuse. She wasn't particularly pleasant when she drank. Not that I condone such violence.”

“Is it common on Tawes?”

“No, no more than anywhere else, I suppose. No, less, I'd say. People generally look out for their neighbors here. If a man hit his wife or if he abused his children, it wouldn't sit well with people. Forest McCready or Matthew Catlin would have a talk with him.”

“But they didn't with Creed?”

“They tried. From what I hear, they tried more than once. But Ida was as bad as Creed. It was the drink.
When he wasn't drunk, you couldn't ask for a nicer man. He'd help anyone in trouble.”

“But the body might not be Ida's,” Bailey suggested.

“Maybe not, but it looks bad. Ida's been missing since yesterday. She went to Emma's for the birthday party, but never came home after. Amy heard Ida's cats meowing yesterday morning. Their food and water dishes were empty. And that's not like Ida.”

“How awful, but I don't see what—”

“First coffee and then I'll beg,” Cathy said. “It's complicated.”

“First your problem and then coffee.”

“All right, but I really wanted to soften you up first.” She pointed to a Dutch gambrel with a basket of orange begonias on the doorstep. “Here we are. It's small, but it's all ours.”

“It's charming. I love the blue door and shutters.”

Cathy led the way through a sunny living room into a country kitchen. The table was already set with two cups, a cream pitcher, and a plate of cookies. “Party leftovers.”

Over coffee, Cathy explained that it was Ida who'd assisted at the summer-school program. “If I can't find a replacement, I'll have to cancel classes, and some of these kids will be left high and dry. It's only a few weeks, and—”

“Aren't you rushing things?” Bailey asked. “You don't know for certain that Ida . . . that she was killed in the fire. She could be anywhere.”

Cathy stirred cream into her coffee. “She could be, but she's never left her cats shut in the house without food before. She adores them. Calls them her babies. Usually, no matter how much she's had to drink, she comes staggering home, puts medicated powder on
the tom's bald spot, and lets them out to potty. She's been gone a day and a half now. It doesn't look good.”

“It just gets worse and worse, doesn't it?” Bailey toyed with the handle of her coffee mug. “I'd like to help you—if Ida doesn't show up, I mean. But I really wasn't planning on being on Tawes that long. Forest McCready said—”

“Don't say no yet. You're my only hope if we've lost Ida.”

“But I'm not certified to teach in Maryland,” Bailey protested, putting down the chocolate-chip cookie without tasting it. “I couldn't—”

“Ida wasn't either. She was officially my assistant, and there's no reason why you couldn't fill the bill.” She rubbed her protruding belly. “Down, boys. He's so wiggly in there, it must be twins.”

“Could be a girl.”

“I doubt it. Not unless she's going to be a football player or a wrestler.” Cathy leaned forward. “I know it's a lot to ask. The job doesn't pay at all.”

“The money doesn't bother me. It's just that I—”

“Please, just consider what I have to say.” She took a big breath and rushed on. “Listen, I know you need somebody to do the repairs on Elizabeth's house. And I know you asked Daniel and he turned you down.”

“How . . .” Bailey began, and then she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. “I know. Nothing on Tawes is a secret.”

“Not for more than twenty minutes, anyway. But my point is, you need somebody on the island. If you hire a mainlander, you'll have to wait forever, and it'll cost you three times what the job is worth. You know Daniel is good at what he does, and he works cheap.”

“You're forgetting that he's already said no.”

“And you're forgetting that everybody on Tawes is kin. My husband happened to come home for a late lunch, and I happened to mention that Ida is missing.”

“To make a long story short?”

“My Jim is Daniel's first cousin and best buddy. If you'll help me out with the kids, just for a few weeks, then he'll get Daniel to do your carpentry work at a reasonable price.”

“You think?”

“Consider it a done deal,” Cathy assured her. “Scout's honor. Daniel owes us a favor, and we'll call it in. Pretty please, Bailey. Just think about it. It's a great deal.”

Bailey sighed. “I hope that Ida is fine and will show up with an explanation of where she's been, but if she doesn't . . .”

“If the worst has happened?”

“I'll consider it.”

“Good. Be at the school tomorrow morning at eight.”

“And if Ida's there?”

“If she is, we'll kiss her on both cheeks, and I'll find something to keep you busy for the day. I never let potential volunteers escape.”

“Now you sound like Emma.”

Cathy chuckled. “I couldn't find a better teacher, could I?”

My nerves were still on edge Monday morning after the authorities had verified that there had been a second fire victim. And I wasn't alone. Most people on Tawes were upset. I don't believe they'd been this fussed when the senator turned up dead.

When I become anxious, I need to be alone. I took the boat out two miles, cut the engine, and just let it drift. I do my best thinking out here with nothing but the sky and water and a few seabirds to distract me. Here, I can remember how things used to be, the wrongs that were done to me, and why I couldn't let it continue.

I'm assuming that the remains of the bodies were removed by the medical examiner for further study, but I doubt anything more will come of it. After all, how many accidental fires are there in Maryland in a year? And if there's enough bone left to show ax cuts, they might suppose that it was a murder-suicide. I can't imagine that there will be much fuss over two dead drunks. It was common knowledge that Creed once
served seven months in jail for smashing a chair over Tom Caulk's head in Tee's Bar in Crisfield.

My regrets weren't for the deceased. They brought death on themselves as much as Beth or Elizabeth. Creed couldn't let go of the past, and a fool and his life are soon parted. Isn't that the way the old saying goes? If it doesn't, it should. I'm not sorry I killed him. I'm sorry I didn't act sooner. One little, two little, three little Indians. . . . And then there were none.

It has to be that way. I've been negligent in not cleaning up the remnants of that old mess a long time ago. If Creed couldn't be trusted to hold his tongue, the others can't either. And there are those who must be protected at any cost.

I dip my hand in the water and find it warmer than it was a week ago. I wonder if this will be another bad season for the watermen. Most people seem to think the old ways are dying, and I suppose they are . . . one by one.

All but self-preservation.

Daniel was absent at breakfast that morning as Emma, red-eyed from weeping, served Bailey pecan pancakes, hot coffee, extra-crisp bacon, and scrambled eggs. “Hardly enough of him left for a decent burial.” She sniffed. “Ida's still not shown hide nor hair of herself. For my money, she died in that house along with poor Creed. No telling when the state will hand over what's left of him.” She poured glasses of tomato juice for the two of them. “Unless you'd rather have apple?”