Hiss and Tell (22 page)

Cale hauled himself out of the cockpit in pursuit. Shadow led him a merry chase back and forth, but Cale managed to slam the hatch that led below decks before Shadow could reach it. “I want you out in the open,” the man growled. “When I catch you, you mangy little so-and-so, you’re going for a swim.”

They continued to play a vigorous game of pounce and skitter, but Sunny could see that Cale was driving the cat
toward the bow. Sooner or later Shadow would run out of yacht.

Sunny frantically fought with the tape holding her prisoner. Shadow’s teeth had managed to pierce the stuff in several places. It was sort of like a perforated line. But it took a lot of effort to tear it open. Pull, twist, pop a section apart. Then pull, twist, and pop the next.

Meanwhile, Sunny could only watch helplessly as Cale backed Shadow to the very bow of the boat.
Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to play “King of the World” up there,
Sunny feared.

“So now what are you going to do, cat?” Cale demanded. “I’ve got you—”

Shadow responded by going straight up, leaping past the dumbfounded Kingsbury to land against the bellying sail with his claws out. As Cale snatched after him, Shadow climbed up the sail and out of reach.

Swearing furiously, Cale started letting down the sail as Shadow kept climbing. Just as the cat was running out of room, the
Merlin
suddenly came to a jarring, grinding stop that nearly sent Cale off his feet.

Sunny could do the math and grinned savagely.
A boat that falls off to port plus tricky sailing equals running aground.

Cale let rip with an even stronger expletive, abandoning the sail and stomping back toward Sunny.

Is this where I get off?
Or is he going to start the engine and try to back away from these rocks under us?
Sunny sincerely hoped he was going with Plan B, but Cale surprised her, coming up with Plan C. He rummaged down in the cockpit and came up with a pistol.

Barely giving Sunny a glance he set off for the bow of the ship again, apparently determined on a little target practice with Shadow. Cale Kingsbury barely got a few steps, however, before a powerboat came thrumming up, and a cheerful voice shouted, “Hey, there! Can we give you a hand?”

Sunny found herself speechlessly staring at Ben Semple’s smiling face—and at Will Price already jumping for the deck of the
Merlin
.

Cale Kingsbury brought up his gun almost as a reflex action, but Sunny’s reflexes were better. She tore her way through the last of the tape, braced her arms on the deck, and scooted forward, aiming both of her bound feet behind Cale’s left knee. He stumbled forward directly into the roundhouse right Will was already unleashing. Cale flew back, his head smacking against the sail’s boom, and he slithered to the deck, stunned.

After kicking Cale’s pistol out of the way, Will knelt down, reaching into his back pocket. He might be out of uniform, but he’d come prepared, with his handcuffs at the ready. As soon as Kingsbury was safely restrained, Will turned to Sunny.

His lips turned in a sour smile as he used a pocketknife to get the tape off her ankles. “Part of a cop’s continuing education is learning to identify the latest looks in illegal drugs. The stuff in the picture you sent me came from Thailand. We just recently learned it was coming on the market over here. So what was the deal, a sex scandal to stop the marriage?”

“No, a sex scandal to blackmail a possible president,” Sunny told him. “Cale Kingsbury is the Taxman.”

Will turned to stare at the groggy Cale. “Keep a careful
eye on this one,” he shouted to Ben. Then his gaze came back to Sunny, the wheels obviously turning behind his eyes. “Sounds like you caught a big fish this time.”

“More like a shark.” Sunny shuddered. “He is a murderer, and he was going to throw me away like a piece of garbage once we got far enough offshore. That’s what would have happened if you hadn’t turned up.”

“Well, we know he had you tied up while sailing out to sea,” Will said. “But can you prove the blackmail scheme?”

“I found a bunch of cameras set up to record the scene. They have a wireless connection, and I suspect that when you trace the other end of that, you’ll find a computer with lots of incriminating evidence. Cale was clever, but arrogant.” She paused for a second. “But to do that, you’ve got to report to the police. How is Captain Ingersoll going to take all of this?”

“I followed his orders to the letter,” Will replied with a grin. “He told me he didn’t want to see me on the streets of Wilawiport.” He gestured at the open water around them. “Does this look like a street?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sunny said. “Although it is pretty clever.”

“You mean
why
am I here?” Will put both arms around her. “That was pure luck. We were just arriving when I spotted the rowboat heading for the yacht. That orangey pink dress of yours caught my eye.”

“Coral,” Sunny told him.

“I always liked you in that dress. It’s very pretty.” He held her a little more tightly.

Sunny looked down ruefully. “I hope I can get it clean.”
She relaxed in the circle of Will’s arms—and then stiffened. “Shadow! No!”

*

Scrambling down from
the big curtain on a stick, Shadow had an excellent view when Sunny’s He arrived—and it was very good to see. Sunny kicked the bad Smells Good two-legs, and her He knocked him down. That was good. Even better, Sunny and her male friend stood very close together.

Maybe things will work out all right,
Shadow thought.
Sunny and I will go back to live with the Old One, and her He can come and visit.

He still had some business with Smells Good, though.
Chase me around, will you?
Shadow thought, strutting up to the helpless human who was just beginning to stir and mutter.
You like made smells? Well, here’s one for you.
Shadow braced himself, thankful that he hadn’t had a chance to relieve himself before this adventure. By the time he was done, Smells Good smelled very different.

By the time
Sunny and Will got to Shadow, the damage had been done. A reeking Caleb Kingsbury was taken into custody by several state troopers coming out on the commandeered launch from the Neal’s Neck compound. Ben Semple had been busy on the radio.

In the end, plenty of law enforcement wound up represented. Lieutenant Wainwright was there, and Captain Ingersoll, alternating between a slow burn at Will’s insubordination and astonishment not only at Will’s story, but how quickly it was proven—and how the story kept growing. Even the Maine Marine Patrol turned up to deal with the stranded
Merlin
.

Police technical types quickly tracked down Cale’s computer. Apparently in his rush to get to the bower after spotting Sunny on camera, he’d left the system on. And
her prediction proved true. They found plenty of evidence of previous “little projects,” as Cale had called them.

Scenting a sensational story, the media responded in its usual voracious way. But Sunny left the law enforcement types to deal with that. By arrangement with Ken Howell, she only gave one exclusive interview, to the
Harbor
Courier
—well, semi-exclusive, since Randall MacDermott participated.

“We wouldn’t have gotten the lead on the Taxman if it weren’t for Randall,” Sunny explained to Ken, who grudgingly went along with her request. Will insisted on accompanying her for the joint interview.

I don’t know why he feels he has to be here,
Sunny thought as Will took a chair beside her in the
Courier
office while Ken and Randall set up their recorders.
Does he think Randall is going to throw me over his saddle and head off to New York with me?

Of course, she realized, Will had just decked a guy—literally—who’d tried to run off with her, so maybe he was operating under an excess of testosterone.

She outlined the Taxman’s extortion business in general and then gingerly made her way into the specific scheme that had led to murder. It wasn’t easy. Ken and Randall were both proficient
Q
and
A
types who put her through an interrogation that would have made Lieutenant Wainwright green with envy.

Sunny fought to keep Beau Bellingham’s pill problem out of the discussion, just vaguely referring to blackmail. What was the use of ruining his life? But the story of Eliza’s sex tape had already surfaced, and she had to give some explanation of the plan to ensnare Carson. Neither of her interviewers was happy at her unwillingness to spill all the
dirty details, but Sunny felt she owed that much to Priscilla and Carson. Sunny and Will had already warned them about the coming media firestorm as soon as they got on dry land, so it wouldn’t hit the couple out of the blue. At last, realizing he wasn’t going to get any more out of her, Ken turned off his recorder, eager to get going on the story and a new special edition of the
Courier
. Randall did the same, before rushing to his computer and getting the story down to New York before the
Standard
went to press. By the time Randall flew back to the big city, his front-page story would be hitting the streets.

But now, he hesitated. “I want to thank you, Sunny, and to apologize for those stupid comments I made about you not being much of a reporter anymore. You’re a hell of a newsperson, digging up the facts, putting them together—”

“And nearly getting killed for it,” Will put in, shooting an unfriendly glare at Sunny’s former beau.

“Thanks, Randall.” Sunny did her best to drown Will out.

“That’s not all I’m sorry for.” Considering that he was a guy who made his living with words, Randall seemed to have a hard time getting these ones out. Maybe it was Will’s hostile presence. “If things had been different . . .”

“An old J-school professor of mine once told me that ‘if’ is one of the most treacherous words in the English language,” she said gently
,
thinking,
so he’s not eating crow in front of the Pulitzer committee,
but it’s a lot more than I ever really expected.

“So is ‘regret’—but that doesn’t mean that even hard-boiled old editors don’t feel it sometimes.” Randall looked over at Will. “Good luck with the election.” Then he looked back at her. “Good-bye, Sunny.”

With that, Randall raced off to his keyboard. Will reached over and took her hand. Sunny wondered what kind of expression she must have on her face for him to look at her the way he was.

*

Soon enough, new
scandals and disasters pushed the blackmail story into the category of old news. Augustus de Kruk’s publicity machine remained remarkably quiet on the subject, but obviously the de Kruk-Kingsbury merger was on hold indefinitely—at least, that’s what
Eagle Eye
had to say when the original wedding date came and went with no marriage.

Sunny knew that already; Robin Lory had told her. After her brief brush with the Kingsburys and de Kruks, Robin had a very proprietary feeling about the whole story.

So, Sunny, had to admit, did she—along with a very un-journalistic wish that Carson and Cillie might yet reach a happy ending after all.
Maybe all the negative stuff about Uncle Cale will scare both families away, and it will come down to what Carson and Cillie want,
Sunny thought.
I guess I can only hope.

She killed the sound on the television set, turning to her father. “Do you think there’s any place we can tune in for the election results?”

“Primary results,” Mike corrected her. “And we’ll be lucky to see something in tomorrow’s paper. A sheriff’s race isn’t exactly big news.”

He was wrong, though. When he tuned into the second half of the ten o’clock newscast, they had a brief blurb on how Lenore Nesbit had ridden a tidal wave of sympathy
votes onto the ballot, which given Elmet County’s voting habits, meant she had a lock on the election as well.

“I was afraid of this,” Mike growled, glaring at the screen as Lenore waved to her supporters. “Even though Will did his job—and caught a murderer—it wasn’t enough.”

“Yeah, well, we kind of saw it coming,” Sunny reminded him. “As political slogans go, there’s a big difference between ‘Keeping Elmet County Safe’ and ‘Catching Another Murderer.’”

The doorbell rang, and she found Will on the doorstep.

“Figured I’d come over to ask Mike when’s the best time to concede,” he said with a wry smile as he came inside.

Sunny put her arms around him, shutting the door. “And maybe get a little consolation-prize therapy?”

Will looked over her shoulder. “I dunno, it looks as though the chaperone is already in business.”

Sunny turned to find a gray-furred face peering out at them from behind the cover of the archway into the living room. Slowly and mistrustfully, Shadow advanced toward them. But he came straight up, twined his way around Sunny’s legs—and then did the same to Will.

“He’s never done that before,” Will said. Shadow sat back on his haunches as though he were regarding his handiwork.

“He does that on rare occasions with Dad, and I’ve seen him do it with Jane Rigsdale when he visits her at the vet’s office. Looks as though he’s marking you as one of his official people.”

Will laughed. “Well, I guess that’s one election I’ve won.”

He was interrupted as the doorbell rang again.

“Kinda late for guests,” Sunny said, going to answer. She opened the door to reveal Lenore Nesbit.

“Congratulations, Madame Sheriff,” Sunny said.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” Lenore said, “but a little bird told me you’d be here, Will.” She made an abrupt gesture, as if she were erasing what she first intended to say. “I’m not here to crow. In fact, I’m here to make you an offer.” She took a deep breath. “We both know how the election is going to turn out. In fact, the opposition candidate may just withdraw after my showing today. Here’s the deal. After all the hoopla is over, I’d like to name you chief investigator for the sheriff’s department. It would be equivalent to the rank of sergeant, and you’ll get a raise.”

She smiled at the startled expression on Will’s face. “This did not make Dan Ingersoll overjoyed when I discussed it with him, but I think it’s something we need to do. We have serious crimes to deal with, including crime that has affected me personally.” Lenore was silent for a moment. “Times have changed, and we can’t just ignore what’s going on around us. As you said, we’ve got to be aware. I hope you can help us do that.”

“I—I don’t know what to say.” Will stumbled over the words.

“Luckily, I don’t need an answer right away,” Lenore told him. “Think about it. Talk it over with your friends and supporters.” She nodded toward the living-room arch, where Sunny’s dad had appeared. “I hope, though, that you’ll take the job.”

As she spoke, the final member of the Coolidge household came forward, sniffing in fascination.

“Well, hello there.” Lenore showed a familiarity with cats, bending over to offer Shadow a hand with the fingers curled under. Shadow immediately started pushing his head against her fingers, silently demanding a head scratch.

Well,
Sunny thought,
this could be the beginning of an interesting friendship.