Down River (23 page)

She knew if Sheriff Moran dared to question Graham, his lawyers, and especially Ellie again, it was all over for her at Carlisle, Bonner, no matter what had just happened here.

“Just make sure,” Spike told Christine as they stood by his truck outside the lodge, “that Lisa doesn’t get near me. I don’t care if they are all helping to move Ginger’s things this afternoon.”

“Listen to yourself,” she told him, putting her palm against his chest. She was surprised to feel how hard his heart was pounding. The doctors had stabilized Lisa’s heartbeat, but she was worried about Spike’s blood pressure. “You nearly had a fight with Gus,” she said, “and now you’re at war with Lisa. Please, Spike, don’t let Ginger’s death turn you against folks who—”

“If I thought the sheriff had done a decent job looking into Ginger’s death, I’d get him in on this again.”

“Mitch called him. The entire thing may be reopened, but you can’t let on. Lisa finally decided they needed official help—”

“I don’t care if she’s had it rough. She should have told the sheriff the second she got back to the lodge from her river rescue that someone pushed her in. Then he would have gotten on Ginger’s case, too. I read there’s like a twenty-four-hour golden period for investigations for murders.”

“I think that’s for kidnappings, not murders.”

“Hell, you ought to know.”

Christine felt as if he’d slapped her. She pulled her hand back from touching him. Tears filled her eyes. Spike hung his head, looked away.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I just can’t stand it that Ginger died that way, and Lisa should have screamed bloody murder from the first. And the man you think can do no wrong should have filled me in right away.”

“Maybe, but she and Mitch thought they could figure out who it was, but if it was public, they’d never know.”

“Maybe they even thought I pushed her, trying to keep her away from Mitch. And see, you’re defending him again—her, too. They hurt Ginger, hurt me. But I’m sorry I hurt you. See you later. I gotta lot to do.”

H
elping Spike in honor of Ginger was, Lisa thought, an appropriate way to spend time waiting for the sheriff. She was sad, for their activities emphasized Ginger’s loss. And her stomach kept cramping over nervous expectation of the sheriff’s imminent arrival. Maybe he would insist that she and the others stay behind for complete questioning. Or he might learn enough to make an arrest. Nervously, she kept twisting her seagull bracelet around her wrist.

She, Christine and Mitch were manning the lodge, storing items that Jonas and Vanessa, Ellie and Graham brought back in large vehicles from Ginger’s cabin, where Spike was sorting through her possessions. Lisa and Christine put things away that were meant for the lodge. Most of Ginger’s baking equipment was stored in the kitchen. They also made a pile on the front porch that would go to Spike’s place later. All the activity meant that people—suspects—were scattered between the cabin and the lodge on the winding forest road.

Mitch was sticking close to the phone, waiting for the sheriff’s call, or even better, his arrival in person. If anyone asked why Mitch wasn’t helping to unload, Lisa and Christine were just to say that, since they had overstayed their reservation, he had to phone or e-mail future guests to be sure their travel plans were set.

“So where does this load go?” Lisa asked as she and Christine went out to meet Jonas and Vanessa. Jonas opened the trunk to reveal boxes of clay pots for plants and an array of garden tools.

“Spike said it’s for the lodge and not his place. That’s all I know,” Jonas said. “At home or here, this kind of stuff’s not my thing.”

“I’ll go ask Mitch,” Lisa said.

She saw he stood away from the front windows but was looking out. She and Christine had orders to not so much as go to the bathroom without the other waiting outside the door. As Mitch had put it, “We’re so close to telling the sheriff that I don’t want anything else to happen.”

Earlier, after Lisa had come back in from hearing Graham offer her the senior partnership, she and Mitch had huddled briefly in the back hall by the library. “Yes, he offered it to me, and I said I needed some time,” she had whispered.

“Did you say you’d go back with them tomorrow?”

“No, but he insisted. He said he’d fly you to Florida soon about that consultant position he’s offered you.”

Mitch had hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Yeah, I just blew that off, almost forgot about it. No way that’s going to happen.”

“Another bribe? I have to think his offer to me was exactly that. And, if so, he’s very adept not only at managing people but at hypocrisy and underhandedness. Which means he could definitely be the spider at the center of the casino-case web. How much did Graham want to have his own fortune, however he got his hands on it, rather than living in the lap of luxury because of his wife and her family’s wealth? Maybe he saw a way to make big money, then got scared it would backfire and he’d be caught, especially when he had to take the case, then sabotage it so he couldn’t be traced. We never could figure out how whoever tracked us and bugged us knew so much about our lives. He must have made a bargain with some devil, and got burned himself.”

“Listen, sweetheart,” Mitch had said, grasping her upper arms, “I’m going to keep a good eye on you until the sheriff comes—and hopefully for long after. But I told Christine that, whatever happens, before the sheriff arrives and hears us out, she’s to stick with you. Promise me!”

She had promised him. But then she’d once promised to marry him, and that had been blown to smithereens. As far as she was concerned, that still had to be settled between them, but they had to get all this taken care of first.

Now, as she crossed the short distance to the
window where Mitch stood watching Jonas, Vanessa and Christine unload the car, she asked, “Nothing from the sheriff yet?”

“If I don’t hear soon, I’m going to call his office again. They can patch me through to the accident scene. It must have been a bad wreck, injuries or fatalities.”

Their gazes locked and held.
Injuries, fatalities…
She suddenly wanted to explode in tears, but she got control of herself. “Oh, I came in to ask you where garden pots and rakes and shovels go. I saw those tools in Ginger’s shed when we were looking for her.”

“In the boathouse for now, our general catch-all. Christine never goes in there, so tell her stuff should just be stacked along the west side to leave room for the boats and rafts when we put them away. I’ll sort through it all later.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” she told him with an attempt at a jaunty salute, when she actually wanted to just cling to him. She hurried back out.

The gardening pots and tools were piled by the porch, Jonas and Vanessa were pulling away, and Christine was on her way in, so they almost bumped into each other.

“I figured Mitch was in there, but I didn’t want to shirk my duty of being your second skin,” Christine said.

“You’ll be glad to get rid of me.”

“No, I really won’t,” she said as they went back out
and she hefted a box of pots as Lisa picked up a collection of rakes, spades and hoes. “At first I was afraid you would be bad for Mitch, but I see you love him, too—well, you know what I mean, not the same way I do.”

“If and when I do come back here when this is all over, it will be to see Mitch, but you, too. I wish you the best with Spike once he can get past Ginger’s loss. And I’m hoping our telling the sheriff I’ve been attacked twice will reopen the investigation of her death, so Spike won’t be so upset. Oh—Mitch said all this stuff can be stacked up in the boathouse.”

“Let’s go.”

They started to walk around the corner of the lodge. Lisa recalled Ginger peeking at them from here when Gus brought her and Mitch back from their river trek.

Mitch ran out onto the porch. “The sheriff was on his way, but had a flat tire just down the road about a half mile,” he shouted, pointing in the other direction. “I gave him a quick briefing, and he was all ears. I’m not going to wait for one of the vehicles to get back. I’ll just jog down to help him change the tire, or else bring him back here while we call for someone else to do it. You two stick together. I’ll be back with the sheriff one way or the other in half an hour.”

That was hopeful, Lisa thought as her stomach knotted again at all that was to come. Even if all these lawyers lawyered up at the sheriff’s questions, no one would dare to try to harm her again. It would
be like life insurance. If they all turned against her for bringing in the sheriff, she’d just have to find someplace else to work and live—maybe here?

They found the boathouse unlocked. Lisa had not been in it before, and it was obviously not familiar territory to Christine either. “Stack things on the west side,” Lisa told Christine. “He said to leave plenty of space for boats later.”

“Boats, kayaks, rafts,” Christine said as she put the box of clay pots down, then shoved it farther into the corner with her foot.

Lisa liked the boathouse. It smelled of cedar and had big beams holding up the roof. It wasn’t dark inside at all. Unlike the sauna, thank heavens, it was airy and light with a row of small windows overlooking the lake, though they were quite high up. She leaned the tools in the corner near the box of pots and said, “Either Mitch’s uncle was tall or he built this for Spike. I have to stand on tiptoe to see out.”

“I guess they wanted just the light, not the view. We’d better get the rest, a couple more loads, I think. The Bonners should be back soon with their next haul. We shouldn’t tell them to go and pick Mitch and Sheriff Moran up, should we?”

“No way,” Lisa said firmly.

As they started back to get another load, a shaft of sunlight slanting into the corner caught Lisa’s eye. Something gleamed. At first she thought it was a spider web, since one laced itself behind the tools, and she thought of Graham. Mitch had said he
believed Vanessa was first on their most-wanted list, but Lisa was picking Graham as the spider.

“What is it?” Christine stopped to ask as Lisa froze.

“The top of that spade caught my eye—not the reddish stain but something else.”

Lisa went toward it, blocking out the shaft of sun. She lifted the spade, carefully. Moving it into the sunlight, she could see sticking to the reddish varnish on one side of the spade’s handle several matted red hairs were stuck.

Christine bent closer to it. Lisa’s mind raced. These red stains must not be varnish but blood.

“I guess,” Christine said, “she could have cut herself working and gotten hairs stuck on it.”

“No blood on her dock,” Lisa whispered, suddenly feeling nauseous. “But the back of her head was hit hard. Vanessa knew she worked a garden and had been out to see it. She knew right where it was. She told me to look in the shed for Ginger, and if that’s where this was, it doesn’t make sense. Still, she could have—have hurt her, then set me up to find the body….”

“You think Vanessa is behind everything?”

“Mitch does—we’re not sure. We have to hide this until the sheriff gets here.”

“Lisa, we have to go get Spike so he’s here when the sheriff arrives. We’ve got to tell him we’ve found something to reopen Ginger’s case—strong evidence.”

“Unless the Bonners have driven in, we don’t have
a car to get to him, but then, I don’t want them to think we’re running for Spike for any reason. Ellie and Spike arranged who would be where today.”

“Listen,” Christine said, whispering now, “Ginger’s boat is just outside, on the other side of the dock from Spike’s plane. Spike’s blaming you for what happened to Ginger, but I really think he should be here. We can take the motorboat and be to Ginger’s cabin and back in just over ten minutes. We won’t even go ashore, just shout to him to get back to the lodge. He can drive around while we head back.”

“If Mitch finds us missing, he’ll have a fit.”

“We’ll leave him a note, just saying we took a sandwich to Spike, in case anyone else finds it. Spike will be so grateful you found this extra evidence. Maybe it will stop his bitterness, because that’s not like him. I’d give anything if he’d just be himself again, not so angry. I swear he’s going to have a heart attack.”

Tears welled in Christine’s eyes. Lisa understood fearing for those you loved. And for Christine, after an abusive marriage, it must be so hard for her to trust another man, especially one who seemed to be losing control of himself lately. Yet Lisa desperately wanted Christine and Spike to be happy—and together.

“You do know how to run her boat?” she asked as she hid the spade behind two stacked barrels, then followed Christine outside.

“Sure, it’s easy. Come on, twin joined-at-the-hip. Let’s leave Mitch a note on the front door about
taking a sandwich to Spike, and we’ll explain the truth to him and the sheriff later.”

They dashed inside while Christine scribbled the note. Lisa was elated about finding what could be a murder weapon. And to think Jonas and Vanessa had delivered it! That meant once again, she realized, that perhaps Vanessa had not hit Ginger over the head with it after all, or surely she would have spotted it and hidden it. As she and Christine headed toward Ginger’s boat, she was grateful that the Bonners had not driven in with their next load.

Lisa sat in the prow and Christine easily started the old outboard motor. “Only twenty-five horsepower,” she said. “An antique with a pull cord no less, but it was always old faithful for her. It’s more like a plow horse than a racehorse, though.”

It was indeed, as they plowed their way through the low waves toward the other end of the lake. Lisa thought of the day she and Vanessa had taken a rowboat across and found Ginger’s body. Then her thoughts skipped to the day this all started, the day she and Mitch were going to take that red kayak to a picnic spot near Ginger’s cabin. He’d saved her with that kayak, so it was sad they had to abandon it. And that day they intended to talk things out near Ginger’s cabin, they had cans of ginger ale—how ironic. And appetizers Christine had fixed for what was to be their reunion feast while they tried to patch up their past. But instead of the appetizers, they’d ended up with fabulous wild blueberries and fresh salmon.

The motor sputtered at times. Its
putt-putt
barely drowned out the river’s distant rumble. But Lisa was not afraid. She had good memories as well as the bad. Once they learned who had intended to kill her and why, she would learn to stride into the future without past losses haunting her ever again.

She heard another sound and looked back to see what was loud enough to carry this far. Christine turned to look back, too.

“Oh!” Christine cried. “I think the engine of Spike’s plane is starting. Can you tell if the propeller’s turning?”

Lisa shaded her eyes. “Yes, I think so.”

“He must have driven in and seen us heading out and wants to get our attention, so we head back. We’d better go back. This won’t turn on a dime, but hang on.”

They made a small, slow circle, but the plane had left the dock and lodge behind. It was still revving up to taxi or take off. And, Lisa noted with increasing unease, it was making a path straight toward them.