Castle Cay (13 page)

So that was your secret, David,
thought Julie.
Rolly is your lover. For how long, I
wonder?

They were enjoying the strawberry shortcake
when the doorbell rang. David went to answer it.

Suddenly, he was confronted with video cams
and police.

“David Harris? You’re under arrest for the
murder of Marcus Solomon.”

* * * * *

“
J
ulie!”

David’s eyes searched frantically for her, as
the police handcuffed him.

Julie dug in her purse, and found the scrap
of paper on which she had scribbled a name and number.

Jacob Goldman
(305)
438-5253

She ran out the door, Rolly right behind her.
“Don’t worry, David!” she yelled to him as they ducked him into the
back of the cruiser. She waved the paper. “I’ll get Jake Goldman!
We’ll be there soon!”

The cruiser pulled away with David looking
back at her, a picture of distress.

Brushing past Rolly, Julie ran back in the
house and grabbed the phone. Hurriedly, she punched in the
number.

“Goldman Law Firm,” a woman’s voice said.
“Can you hold, please?”

“
No
, I can’t! I need to speak to Jacob
Goldman right away! Tell him David Harris has just been charged
with murdering Marc Solomon!”

“And who am I speaking to, please?”

“My name is Julie O’Hara, and I’m calling
about
David Harris
.”

“Just a moment, please,” the woman said in a
maddeningly calm voice. And then Julie was on hold…waiting and
waiting.

“I better go, Julie,” said Rolly. “I’ll call
you later.”

Julie nodded, still on hold, listening to
inane music. Suddenly, it ended. “Hello, this is Jake Goldman,”
said a deep, authoritative voice.

“Mr. Goldman! I’m Julie O’Hara. I’m a friend
of Joe Garrett in Orlando. He said for David Harris to call you, if
he needed an attorney. The police have just been here and arrested
him for murder! Can you meet him at the Key West police
station?”

“Yes. I’m just finishing with a client. But
I’m in Key Largo, near Miami, Ms. O’Hara…it’ll take me a couple
hours to get there.”

“Thank you so much,” she said. “I’m going
there now. I’ll tell David.”

Julie saw the keys to the VW on the kitchen
counter. She snatched them up, along with her purse, and ran out
the front door. There were some neighbors outside who had just
witnessed poor David’s ignominy. Julie asked one of the men if he
knew where the police station was located. He gave her directions,
and she thanked him and took off.

When she got there, reporters were milling
around outside. It looked like they were setting up for a press
conference. She went inside the crowded station and up to the desk.
Explaining who she was, she asked to see David.

“Sorry, Miss. Not right now. You can wait out
here if you want.”

“But I want to let him know that his lawyer
is on the way,” she said.

“When his lawyer gets here, he can go in.
Sorry.”

Julie knew there was nothing she could
do.

“Officer? Do you happen to know the attorney,
Jacob Goldman?”

“Yeah, I know Jake Goldman.”

“He’ll be here in about two hours,” she said.
“I plan to be back here waiting for him, but I’ve never met him.
Will you point him out to me when he comes in?”

“Sure.”

Julie drove directly to the nearest bar with
a TV, and ordered a scotch and soda. Sure enough, at the top of the
hour, David’s arrest was on the local news channel. She sat there,
astonished at the suddenness of the police department’s action.
Apparently, they felt they had enough circumstantial evidence to
move forward with a murder charge!

She shook her head, knowing that David had no
alibi.

•

Jake Goldman arrived about an hour after
Julie came back from the bar, and the officer signaled her up to
the desk. The attorney appeared to be in his fifties with hair like
steel wool and dark rimmed glasses. He’d set his briefcase on the
floor and was talking to the officer when Julie walked up.

“Mr. Goldman, I’m Julie O’Hara. I called
you.”

“It’s Jake. Nice to meet you, Julie,” he
said, shaking her hand. “It’s a good thing you did. I better get in
there. No point in you waiting here. He’ll be here at least
overnight. I’ll tell him you were here. He should be able to call
you.”

And with that, he was gone. The man’s brisk,
all-business manner was reassuring; he wasn’t wasting any time.
Julie made her way out through the crowd, and went back to the
house to wait for David’s call.

It was 10:00 pm when he finally did.

“Julie, it’s David.”

He sounded tired, beaten down.

She hit the mute button on the TV remote.

“David! I’m so glad to hear from you! I tried
to get in to see you,” she said. “Have you seen Jake Goldman?”

“Yes, thank God. Thank you for calling him.
An arraignment is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Jake said that ‘I
shouldn’t worry’.
As if!
Anyway, he expects that I’ll get
bail, because I have no record and long ties to the community.”

“Should I be there to pick you up?”

“No. Jake said once bail is arranged, the
police will take me home. They’ll make me wear an electronic ankle
cuff.” He sighed.

“This is a
nightmare
, Julie.”

“I know. But Jake’s right, don’t worry,” said
Julie. “Do you know Joe Garrett, the private investigator in my
office building? He’s helping you, too, David. He’s following up on
a lead right now! And Jake Goldman has an
excellent
reputation. You’re in good hands…and I’ll stay right here at the
house with you.

“Their case has to be flimsy, David. They
can’t prove it, because they’ve got the
wrong
man. It’s
going to be all right
.
I’ll be waiting here for you when you
get home.”

“Thank you, Julie. I’m so grateful. I have to
hang up now, bye.”

Julie wished that her confidence would catch
up with her acting.

At midnight, she went to bed, sick of the
hyper television coverage.

•

Julie tossed and turned, checking the
illuminated clock every half hour.

She was desperate to get some sleep! At two
o’clock, in the soft light from the pool patio, she crossed the
house to the master bedroom. She went to the medicine cabinet in
the adjoining bath to look for something to help her sleep.

Fortunately, David had a prescription for
Xanax and she took one.

Julie shuffled back through the silent house
to the guest room, climbed into bed and was soon fast asleep.

She never noticed the date on the
prescription.

* * * * *

I
s that my cell phone ringing?

Julie stumbled out of bed, fished around in
her purse, and pulled out the phone. It was too late. She checked
the caller ID.

Area code 305? Isn’t that Miami?

Half asleep, she called the number. It rang
just once.

“Hello?” a familiar voice said.

“This is Julie O’Hara,” she said.

“Merlin! It’s Joe!”

“Hi…Are you in Miami?”

“Yes. I’m at Will Sawyer’s house. “We’re
flying to Castle Cay this morning. We’re just heading for the
airport now. I saw the news about David’s arrest on TV! What’s
happening?”

“I don’t know anymore than you do, Joe.” said
Julie. “I did meet Jake Goldman, though. He seems like a good
attorney. Poor David is beside himself with worry. I’m hoping he’ll
be out on bail later today.”

“I hope so, too,” he said.

“Julie, did you say that there’s a caretaker
on Castle Cay?”

“Yes. John Drum. His wife’s name is Mary…and
there’s a boy, Alfred.”

“Okay. We’ll get some aerial shots and I’ll
try to talk to him,” he said. “I’ve got to go, Merlin. Will’s
waiting for me. Be sure you tell Jake Goldman about the island, and
Holiday’s offer to buy it. A deal that big…it’s hard to imagine
it’s not connected. Gotta go. I’ll call you when I get back. “

They hung up, and Julie thought about all the
people and events cropping up in her investigation. She showered
and dressed quickly. Then she put on a pot of coffee, and went up
to Marc’s studio.

The loft had large, sliding windows all
around. Outside, the storm shutters were lifted high, cranked fully
open. The view of the Gulf was spectacular. An unfinished canvas
was on the easel, and Marc’s voice echoed faintly…
“I love the
sunset after a storm…”
Julie inhaled sharply, closed her eyes
and turned away from the painting.

Finished canvases were stacked, one after
another, on a rack in the right corner of the room. A counter ran
along two of the walls, just under the windows. Art supplies filled
the shelves below: canvas and wood, smooth boards, pads, papers,
palettes, etc. On the top, more supplies: oil and acrylic paints,
watercolor paints, brushes of every size and shape…and cans, cans,
everywhere.

Julie saw the items she had come up for: a
large, white sheet of heavy paper, a fat pencil and a roll of
masking tape. She brought them all downstairs, and taped the sheet
of paper to the refrigerator.

There. Now I’m going to organize this...

The phone rang. It was Rolly, worried about
David.

Julie told him that she didn’t know anything
that wasn’t on the news, except that she expected David to be out
on bail later in the day. Rolly asked her to have David call him as
soon as he could.

Were they lovers when Marc was alive?

The phone rang again.

It was David’s mother in Illinois. She was
hysterical. Julie explained who she was, and told her David’s
arrest was a terrible mistake, that he would be home later today,
and that she shouldn’t worry….and yes, of course, she would have
him call her right away.

She hung up again.

And the phone rang again!

The Caller ID said, “Key West Citizen”, a
local newspaper.

This time Julie didn’t pick it up.

She began her chart.

I’m going to assume David is innocent, in
spite of his relationship with Rolly. I have to find out how long
that’s been going on. Still, I don’t think it matters. David is
grieving for Marc.

So…if there was no forced entry, and no one
but Marc and David had a key…then Marc had to let someone in,
right? Someone he knew.

Oh, God. That could be anybody! Never mind,
I’ll put in what I know.

Julie listed the few names she had: Avram
Solomon, Frank Martino, Rolly Archer and Susan Dwyer.

In her own shorthand, she filled in
everything she knew about them, including events and possible
connections: The Solomon auto dealerships, the sale of Castle Cay,
the Sandpiper Art Gallery and Marc’s Boston show.

Meanwhile, the phone kept on ringing.

Around noontime, David came home.

* * * * *

J
ulie had never seen David looking
like this, so tired, red-eyed and disheveled. She hugged him and
led him to one of the comfortable kitchen chairs.

“I was just about to make a BLT and have a
glass of Chardonnay. Want some?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, please,” he said, “especially the
Chardonnay.”

“David, your mother called, and Rolly called,
too. They both want you to call them as soon as possible. They’re
worried about you.”

“I’m so tired,” he said. “But I’ll call them
right after lunch. I’m just glad to be home. It was so
terrible
in there…” He started to cry. “I miss Marc so
much.”

Julie pushed the napkin holder toward him; he
took one and wiped his eyes. She understood what it was like to
suddenly lose someone you loved so much. But, she couldn’t imagine
being humiliated and thrown in jail, on top of it.

Like kicking a hit-and-run victim.

When David looked up, he noticed the big
chart taped to the refrigerator.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Julie poured them a glass of wine and began
preparing the sandwiches.

“Somebody killed Marc, David…and it wasn’t
you. Joe and I are collecting a lot of information right now, and
I’m organizing it,” she said, putting a plate of bacon in the
microwave.

“What can I do to help?” he said.

“Well, we need to talk some more about some
of these people, and maybe some others. Right now, though, I think
you need to get some sleep.”

“You’re right. I haven’t slept at all since
they took me in yesterday,’ he said. “After we eat, I’ll call my
mother and I’ll call Rolly. Maybe he can come over tomorrow and
help us, too.” He sighed. “After that, I think I will go to
bed.”

It seemed like an opportune time to let him
know that she was aware of their relationship.

“David, I know about Rolly.”

He set his wine down, shocked.

“He
told
you?”

Without waiting for a response, David rushed
on. “He didn’t do it, Julie! He never left my side; I would have
known! He was just as shocked as I was!”

Julie closed her mouth, which had fallen
open.
Rolly Archer stayed here that night. That’s what David was
hiding.

“Why didn’t you tell the police Rolly was
here, that you found Marc
together
?”

“Didn’t he tell you?” he said, confused.

“David. Rolly never told me anything. I
guessed that you two were on intimate terms with each other.
That’s all I meant.
“

“Oh, God,” he said, his hand covering his
mouth. It was much too late, as the truth had already escaped like
a canary from an opened cage.

* * * * *

B
elow the helicopter, the Caribbean
Sea was a sparkling vision of blue and green shades, from pale aqua
to emerald. There were white caps here and there, rippling across
the surface, and they were flying low enough to clearly see the
fishing boats and pleasure craft.