Island Intrigue (17 page)

Sabrina's stomach grumbled, and she rose and slipped away without anyone noticing. Sabrina wondered if Gary was cooking lunch, and if he was, what delectable treat he had prepared.

And she was just a little curious about what the Tittletotts thought about this whole business.

Chapter Nineteen

Elizabeth Tittletott couldn't remember the last time she felt so angry. She hoped her complexion wasn't suffering—one had to be careful as one advanced in age. She checked the mirror over her son's shoulder, but her skin was as tight as a drum, leaving no possibility for wrinkles. She couldn't resist smiling.

“If you are done admiring yourself, I have things I need to do,” Bradford snapped, and Elizabeth turned an astounded look on her son. Nobody talked that way to Lady Elizabeth. She loved it when people called her that, though it infuriated her that some of her more irreverent neighbors shortened it to Lady E.

“Bradford Huntly Tittletott! Apologize at once! How could you speak in such a horrible way to your poor mother?” She decided that a small pout and welling tears might be in order. Men could never resist a crying woman, she learned that a long time ago.

“I'm sorry, Mother.” Bradford sighed. He looked so handsome, enough to make a mother's heart swell with pride. Tall and blond with good posture (she had made sure of that—so many tall boys slouched), charming and confident. He was perfect.

“But how could you?” she whispered, reminded again of his betrayal. He wasn't quite perfect after all.

“What were you doing going through my trash?”

Elizabeth couldn't help checking the mirror again to admire her oh-so-offended expression. Yes, very nice. “I wasn't going through your trash, Bradford. I was merely—assisting Julie with her duties. She's so slow, and the waste baskets simply had to be emptied.” Elizabeth batted her eyes and dropped her voice an octave. “Sweetie, I just don't understand why you would want to throw everything away. We've—you've worked so hard to get where you are, and look at you, on the brink of becoming president! It's everything we ever dreamed of. And then I read the rough draft of that speech you were going to give last night, and I was shocked! Astounded—” Artfully widened eyes, Katherine Hepburn couldn't do a better job “—how could you say all that? You know it's not true!”

“And you know it is, Mother,” Bradford said grimly. “You know better than anyone that it's all true.”

Elizabeth was speechless for a moment. “Well!” she said, while she tried to think what to say. What a perfectly horrid thing for Bradford to say to her! She looked around the room, trying to think of something to put the boy in his place. They were alone in the back parlor, the doors firmly shut, the heady scent of burning leaves and fall roses drifting through the open windows.

“I don't know how you could say such an awful thing to your mother. After all I've done for you! I've always done what I thought was right for you, you know that. Everything I've done has been for you.” Now she felt on safer ground.

“Sometimes I wish you lived for someone else besides me,” Bradford said under his breath. Elizabeth believed that you should speak up if you had something to say and say it with conviction. She decided that she probably hadn't heard him right anyway.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she said in what she mistakenly thought of as her “soothing mother” voice. “Throw away that speech and forget all that nonsense. The election is in almost two weeks and I just know you're going to win by a landslide.”

“I don't know that I want to win anymore.”

Elizabeth saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned quickly to look out the window. That awful blond tourist was standing right outside the window, sniffing a crimson rose, and her eyes met Elizabeth's.

“Some people!” Elizabeth said loudly, and went to slam the window shut in the impertinent woman's face.

“Who was it?” Bradford asked.

“That tourist staying in the Old Wrightly place. Nosy woman, and I hear she's never been married. Maybe if she had a family of her own she wouldn't be so interested in everyone else's.” Elizabeth sniffed.

“Sabrina?” Bradford moved to the window and waved out the window. The woman had the audacity to wave back.

“Brazen,” Elizabeth said with disdain.

***

Sabrina continued along the stone path that meandered beside the Tittletott House through colorful flower beds. Virginia had told her that Gary was not quite ready to serve lunch yet, and had pointed her along the walkway that circled the house.

“I think we have the prettiest gardens on the island,” Virginia said.

And Virginia was right, the gardens were beautiful. Chrysanthemums and marigolds and other fall flowers bloomed in profusion in sweeping flower beds nestled under ancient trees. A solitary stone bench stood beside a pond filled with lily pads and lazy koi already dressed for Halloween in varying combinations of orange, black and white.

Sabrina stopped enjoying the garden when she heard Elizabeth and Brad's voices coming from the open window. The Tittletotts really must learn to close their windows if they expected to have private conversations. She hadn't eavesdropped. No, she merely stopped to smell the roses.

What did Bradford plan to say in his speech that Elizabeth was so angry about? Was Brad planning to withdraw from the campaign? Why would he do that? It sounded as if he was going to confess to something. Did he steal the silver and set the fire after all? But how could he? He was on the other side of town when the fire was set.

Sabina sighed. Since he was unable to give his speech, she might never know. Elizabeth Tittletott would probably be successful in browbeating her son into changing his mind.

Sabrina followed the path around the other side of the house, back to the front door. Hopefully, Gary would be ready to serve lunch.

Inside, Elizabeth was speaking to Virginia behind the desk.

“Hello Sabrina,” Virginia said. “I think Gary's ready now.”

“Wonderful,” Sabrina said. “You were right, the gardens are lovely. And how are you doing, Mrs. Tittletott?”

“Fine,” the older woman snapped, the bright slash of her lips pressed together in annoyance.

I do believe I irritate the woman, Sabrina said to herself as she went into the dining room and sat at her favorite table. What a pity.

Missy brought her ice tea without asking. “Morning, Ms. Dunsweeney,” she said. Today, her shirt read: “Friends help you move. Real friends help you move bodies.”

“Let me see, we've got,” she glanced at a note card, “fresh salmon spread on pita points with a celery relish and homemade potato chips, or fresh blackened mahi-mahi with a spicy salsa and potato and egg salad.”

“They both sound wonderful. You'll have to explain to me what mahi-mahi is, however.”

“Dolphin.”

“Please?”

“That's what you want?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say please?”

Sabrina's face was blank, and then she laughed as comprehension dawned. “Oh! I see. It's just something we say in Cincinnati. It can mean a number of things, but in this instance I guess it means ‘what?' You're serving dolphin? I didn't know—”

“Not Flipper,” Missy said, laughing indulgently. “Don't worry. It's the fish. That's why they call it mahi-mahi, ‘cause people get all bent out of shape when we say dolphin.”

Sabrina sighed with relief. “That makes me feel better. I think I'll have the salmon spread, though. That sounds refreshing.”

Missy nodded and turned to go.

“What do you think about this murder, Missy? Pretty unusual for around here.”

“It's horrible.” Missy turned back and settled a well-cushioned hip against a nearby table. “And for it to be Rolo Wrightly! Enough to make someone cry. I used to baby-sit him and Thierry when I was in high school and I always thought he was such a good kid. Very solemn and sweet with a rare smile that would light up the room. Then he got older, and he was so good to his grandmother, always helping her with her roses. I couldn't believe it when they found all that stolen stuff from Edie Lowry's house in his room, and then he ran off. I guess you never really know people, though. We're all wondering what he was doing back, and who killed him. Live by the sword, die by the sword, I guess.”

With that, Missy headed for the kitchen.

Sabrina glanced out the window and was surprised to see two policemen walking up the sidewalk to the front door of the Tittletott House.

“Uh oh. I wonder what this is all about?”

The police entered the lobby and Sabrina saw them talking to Virginia. They showed her a piece of paper, and she shook her head and picked up the phone. Hmmm.

After a few minutes, Virginia led the policemen through the office door.

Missy appeared with the food and Sabrina exclaimed with delight at the pleasing and original plate presentation. “How pretty! Is that a mango sauce used to decorate the edge of the plate? Yes, it sure is!”

“Anything else for you, Ms. Dunsweeney?”

“Do you know why the police are here?”

“Police?” Missy frowned. “Hadn't noticed them.” Distracted, she went into the kitchen, and a few minutes later Gary, green apron still wrapped around his waist, emerged from the kitchen and went toward the lobby.

“They arrived about five minutes ago,” Sabrina called helpfully. “Virginia took them into the back. By the way, this spread is simply out of this world. You did a wonderful job.”

Looking paler than usual, Gary nodded and went in search of his wife and the policemen.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Sabrina said.

She lingered over her lunch, but the policemen did not emerge. After about fifteen minutes, Virginia returned to the desk. No one had come up to the reception desk while she was gone, though the phone rang non-stop.

Sabrina paid her bill and went into the lobby. Virginia was shuffling papers nervously, and despite her cool blue dress, she looked anything but cool.

“Are you all right, Virginia?”

The woman about jumped out of her skin at the sound of Sabrina's voice.

“What? Sabrina, you frightened me. I'm fine. The police have got me all worked up.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. What do the police want?”

Virginia looked down for a moment. “I know I probably shouldn't be talking about it, but since you don't know anybody…they found one of Brad's business cards on Rolo's body. They just came in with a search warrant. They're searching the house right now! My God, I can't believe this. And they've been asking us where we all were yesterday afternoon. They're asking us for alibis! They didn't actually call it that, but they asked all of us where we were from ten in the morning to three-thirty in the afternoon yesterday, though they seem more interested in the afternoon. None of us has got an alibi to speak of, of course!” Virginia shook her head, and not a hair stirred in her elaborate braided coiffure.

“Of course not,” Sabrina said. “Innocent people don't have alibis.”

Nettie saw Rolo at just before two o'clock, she mused, and he was killed before Sabrina returned home at three-thirty. Only an hour and a half window in which a killer had to work.

“I was helping at the gymnasium most of the day,” Virginia was saying, “getting ready for the rally. I got home around four. Brad was out at Lighthouse Beach. Usually you can't keep him away from his office with a stick, but ever since his office burnt down he's been out of sorts. He said he was nervous about the rally and was going over his speech. Gary was here working the desk all day. Elizabeth was helping Julie with her housework, and then she took a nap around two or so for a couple of hours. The water heater busted around one yesterday, and she and Gary spent an hour cleaning it up. Of course, she's complaining that I wasn't here to help clean up, but by the time I called from the school at three to tell Gary that Sid was going to play practice at your house after school, he said they had it all cleaned up…” Virginia's voice petered out. “I know I'm babbling, but it's all gotten to me. And now the police are questioning Brad, and he's still so sick from that twenty-four-hour flu he came down with. He's been throwing up all night. But his card was in Rolo's pocket, and Nettie Wrightly said Rolo saw Brad a couple of days before he died. Why didn't he tell anyone?”

He told Gary and Elizabeth, Sabrina thought to herself.

Virginia dropped her head into her well-manicured hands. Her shoulders shook, and Sabrina hastened around the desk to pat her on the back.

“There, there. The police are just doing their job. Everything will be all right, you'll see.”

“Poor Rolo.” Virginia's voice was muffled by her hands. “He was so beautiful when he was a boy. So cocky and masculine, but he loved those roses. Sometimes I thought I would marry him when we all grew up. And even after we grew up, I thought…and sometimes I thought I would marry Brad, he was so charming, and after Rolo left…” Virginia glanced up as if she hadn't meant to say what she just said. “Anyway, Rolo was always the good one. I can't believe he's gone. Always before, I knew he was out there, and that if I needed to talk to him, I could…. now he's gone.” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking silently.

Sabrina noticed that Virginia did not mention Gary as the subject of her adolescent dreams. Of course, most people never married their childhood sweethearts. Life had a tendency to smash the life and fun out of youthful fantasies.

Sabrina patted Virginia's back, murmuring calming, nonsensical words. Virginia pulled herself together quickly, as Sabrina expected. It must be very unusual for her to lose control.

“I'm sorry.” She wiped away her tears with the tips of her pinkies and smiled.

“Sometimes you have to get it all out,” Sabrina said, returning to the other side of the desk. “Do you feel better?”

“You have a gift for listening.” Virginia smiled through her tears.

Sabrina smiled back. “I just thought of something. Did you hear that Rolo had a note on him, something about a meeting at a ‘treasure tree'? It sounds like a name a child would make up for a favorite tree. Presumably Rolo knew what it meant. Have you ever heard of the ‘treasure tree'?