Island Intrigue (20 page)

Gary's eyebrows rose. “Reveal something? Like what? I figured he told Brad he would get him for what he did when they were kids. That's what I meant by threatening.”

“No,” Sabrina said. “He came back to expose something about the Tittletotts. What could it have been?” She knew she was right. Why else would Rolo have said:…everyone will know about the Tittletotts and what they're really like.

Gary shrugged. “I'm afraid I'm not the depository of our family's dirty secrets. As a matter of fact, I'm honored if they bother to tell me what day the family reunion falls on.”

“Do you remember anything about that time when Rolo stole the silver? Why would he do something like that?”

“Rolo and Brad were nuts back then. Always doing something crazy. Right before Rolo left, they had something going on, I know they did, but as usual they left me out.” Gary still sounded bitter over a fifteen-year-old slight.

“What did Rolo and Brad have going on?” Sabrina felt she was close, but to what?

“I have no idea. But they were always poring over some map, and they kept digging holes under the treasure tree.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Sabrina went outside, her mind whirling. Gary wasn't able to add anything else to his statement, and after the phone rang two more times, Sabrina gave up.

Digging under the treasure tree? For what?

Of course, the obvious answer would be: for treasure, stupid. But what treasure? Again, the answer seemed obvious. For Walk-the-Plank Wrightly's treasure.

As obvious as all these answers seemed to Sabrina, she was still in the dark as to what it all meant. Did it have anything to do with Rolo's murder?

Sabrina tripped over Virginia and then fell on top of her.

“Oomph.” Virginia gasped as Sabrina struggled to lift herself off the smaller woman and succeeded only in elbowing her in the ear.

“I've been meaning to diet.” Sabrina finally managed to untangle her arms from Virginia's and got to her feet. “I'm sorry. I usually am capable of walking along without falling over stationary objects. What are you doing?”

“I was planting bulbs.” Virginia rubbed at her hip as she looked up at Sabrina. She sat on the ground in her pressed jeans and white T-shirt, with an impeccable pink bandanna protecting her golden hair.

“Here,” Sabrina said, offering her hand, and pulled Virginia to her feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Virginia rubbed at the back of her jeans again, and let Sabrina lead her to a wooden bench in the side yard shaded by a large weeping willow.

“Did I hurt your, um, hip?”

“No, no. Please don't worry about me. It was just an accident.” She looked away, her face drawn in unaccustomed lines of strain.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Sabrina said, “You don't look happy, Virginia, if you don't mind my saying so. Is anything wrong?”

Virginia looked at Sabrina for a long moment. “No. Yes. I mean, I'm fine,” she said, and then caught her breath in a sob.

“Obviously not.” Sabrina drew the woman into a hug and patted her back. “There, there. It can't be all that bad.”

“I'm just so unhappy!” Virginia wailed, and pressed her head into Sabrina's shoulder.

“What do you have to be unhappy about?” Sabrina asked gently. “You've got a wonderful son, a caring husband, and you live in what's got to be the one of the most beautiful places in America.” As if to prove her point, a pony ambled down the street and tore a chunk of grass out of the Tittletott lawn.

“Go away, Paint!” Virginia sat up and wiped at her eyes. “It's really silly. And you probably wouldn't understand since you've never been married.”

Sabrina held her face straight. “You might be surprised to know,” she said, “that I'm not completely ignorant about the relationship between a man and a woman.”

“Sabrina, I didn't mean to say, to imply—oh damn. I'm sorry.” Virginia looked contrite, and Sabrina smiled her forgiveness.

“You and Gary are having trouble?”

“Not really. Not any more than normal. But…” Virginia looked out over the harbor, her face remote. “There's something wrong with me. I can't love my husband like I should. I try, but I just can't. I guess that's part of my problem. I love the idea of being in love!” Virginia's troubled gaze came to rest of Sabrina's face. “But it never lasts, do you understand? I fall in love with men all the time, I just can't help it. I've been like that since I was a girl.”

“Why did you marry Gary?” Sabrina asked. “You had to know that you would keep falling in love with other men, even if you married him.”

Virginia flushed and looked down at her wedding ring. She twisted it, and then pushed a nonexistent strand of hair under her bandanna.

“You had to, didn't you?” Sabrina asked gently. “You were pregnant with Sid.”

Virginia hesitated and then nodded. “Yes. I had to.” She looked at Sabrina appealingly, and Sabrina sensed that there was something more.

“Is Sid Gary's child?”

Virginia started, and looked at Sabrina with wide eyes. “How did—can you really tell—oh, it's worse than I thought. Everyone must know.” She hid her face in her hands.

“Who's the father?” Sabrina asked in a mild voice. She thought she knew.

“It was just a momentary thing. We were in college, and both just homesick for something familiar. We got together for dinner one night, and well, that was that. Nothing more ever came of it. That one night didn't mean anything to him and I know now we should have just stayed friends. I was hurt that he avoided me after that, and I was more lonely than I ever was before. It was right before summer break, and when I came home Gary still looked at me as if I walked on water…Then I found out I was pregnant with Sid and it seemed like an easy decision.”

“Brad's the father?” It was a calculated guess, but Sabrina wasn't surprised when Virginia hesitated and then nodded. “Does Gary know?”

The other woman shrugged. “Why would I tell him? He always had a crush on me, even when we were kids. When I came back from school that year, I didn't know I was pregnant until I got back to the island. Gary was so…kind, and quiet. He was exactly what I needed right then. We were married within the month, and he was so grateful, so happy, he never even asked why I was in a hurry. He's always treated Sid as his own. He loves that boy, more than anything.” Virginia shrugged. “And since we haven't been able to have any more, Sid is extra precious to him. I've always wanted a little girl, but well, it just wasn't meant to be.”

“And Brad? Does he know?”

“I never told him. There didn't seem to be any point. I knew by then I wasn't in love with him and that he wasn't ready to settle down with anyone.”

Sabrina sat back and studied Virginia. “So why are you so unhappy now?”

“I don't know. I made my bed, and I have to lie in it. But Gary's just not what I always wanted in a husband.”

What, he's caring, sensitive and honest? Sabrina wasn't sure why she was feeling so protective of Gary, but she kept the thoughts to herself.

“He's almost feminine,” Virginia said, her face twisted in distaste. “He loves cooking, he watches soap operas for God's sake, and I think he may wear my clothes when I'm not around. I called two days ago when I was at the school setting up for the rally to tell him Sid was going to your house after school, and do you know what he was doing? Darning holes in his socks and watching that stupid soap opera. What kind of man is that?”

“Did you ever consider that he may be as unhappy as you are? Have you talked to him?”

“What's the use?”

“What about Brad? You don't think he's ever suspected about Sid?”

“Brad very rarely thinks about anybody but Brad,” she said, her voice hard. “He treats me like a favorite younger sister, as if nothing ever happened between the two of us, and he loves Sid like an uncle should love his nephew. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Do you want more?” Could Virginia's disdain toward Brad hide deeper, stronger feelings for her handsome brother-in-law? After all, Brad was the father of her son.

“No, no.” Virginia shook her head impatiently. “I was cured of Brad Tittletott twelve years ago. He doesn't bother me. I guess…Rolo coming back and dying, it's just brought back all the old memories. I miss how we were back then, Rolo, Brad and I. We were still kids, and everything was so innocent, and I was happy. I look back on those days as the happiest of my life.”

“Those days you spent in the marsh under the treasure tree?” Sabrina kept her voice calm.

Virginia was nodding before she thought. “Oh!” She looked at Sabrina guiltily.

“You do know where the treasure tree is.”

“I didn't mean to lie, Sabrina, but everything is so crazy. I didn't want to admit I knew what it meant, because I was afraid the police would think I had something to do with writing the note.” Virginia fidgeted with the knot on her bandana, and then pulled it off her head, shaking her fair hair with a fierce shake.

“Did you?” Sabrina looked at Virginia with steady eyes.

“No! But I knew—I knew who it had to be. I didn't want to talk about it until I had a chance to think about it.”

“Who wrote that note? Do you know who killed Rolo?” Sabrina tried to keep her excitement at half-throttle.

“Not exactly. But it would have to be one of us, wouldn't it? One of us who knew what the treasure tree was. I didn't want to think about it being one of the rat pack.”

Sabrina sat back, deflated. She'd hoped that Virginia somehow knew who the killer was, but Virginia had come to the same conclusions that Sabrina herself had. Rolo's killer was most probably one of a small group of people who knew about the treasure tree: Bradford, Virginia, Gary or Thierry.

“What's the story behind the treasure tree, anyway?” Sabrina asked, changing tacks. “Why did you call it that?”

“Rolo found it. It was in the diary his dad gave him when he turned eighteen. At first, Rolo only showed Brad where it was and the two of them would disappear for hours at a time. But then he took us all to the tree and we hung out there for months, built fires, roasted oysters. None of our families knew about it, so we could effectively disappear. It was very peaceful.” Virginia's gaze was soft and faraway.

“Dock gave Rolo a diary when he turned eighteen?”

“It was an old-timey diary and a sword. Rolo started wearing that sword around everywhere he went. We used to make fun of him, but Rolo was always so serious, we finally just left him alone. He was saying the strangest stuff, saying that he had proof that the Tittletotts didn't rightfully own the island, that his family did. Which was funny, since no one really owns the island, now. The Tittletotts own a lot of property which has been passed down to them through the years. I guess if someone proved that all that land didn't belong to the Tittletotts, they—we—would be pretty poor.”

Virginia looked thoughtful for a moment, and then continued. “Rolo was dead serious about the whole thing. He wouldn't tell the rest of us what he meant, but I'm pretty sure he told Brad. He and Brad were always digging under the treasure tree looking for old Walk-the-Plank Wrightly's treasure. Rolo was convinced it was under the tree.”

“Whose diary was it?”

Virginia shrugged. “I have no idea. Rolo was pretty secretive about it all. I guess I always thought Rolo was making it up, except of course, he wouldn't. He wasn't like that. But I just remember feeling left out, because Rolo and Brad were palling around and leaving me out. I had to hang around with Thierry and Gary.” She wrinkled her nose and laughed. “I was such a snotty kid.”

Sabrina heard crunching gravel and looked up to see Brad Tittletott coming up the front walk, carrying an armful of his election posters crumpled and torn in his arms. His face looked strained and white, and a little green around the mouth.

“Brad, the police came around again,” Virginia called. Was that malice sharpening the other woman's voice?

Brad stopped, his posture weary and defeated. “I'm sure they'll be arresting me soon. Why is all this happening?” He looked a shadow of his former self, his coat wrinkled and stained, his hair hanging over his eyes.

“Buzz, buzz, buzz.” Brad fumbled in his coat, brought out a cell phone, and continued walking toward the house. Sabrina stared after him, her brow wrinkled.

“Yes I heard,” Sabrina heard him say into the phone. “No! I don't want you doing that, do you hear me?”

Sabrina's eyes narrowed as he disappeared into the house.

Chapter Twenty-four

Sabrina walked on down the road, her mind racing.

Dock gave a sword and a diary to Rolo when he turned eighteen. What was in the diary that convinced Rolo that Walk-the-Plank Wrightly's treasure was buried under the treasure tree? Did it matter? And what evidence did Rolo have that proved that the Tittletotts didn't own the island?

“No,” Sabrina said. “That's not quite what she said, is it? She said that the Tittletotts didn't rightfully own the island. Not quite the same thing, is it?”

Sabrina stopped in the middle of the street. Could that be a motive for murder? Would someone kill to keep Rolo from revealing that the ancient deed that Elizabeth Tittletott hung so proudly over her mantle proclaiming her family's ownership of the island was a fake? What proof could he possibly have? And would his proof affect the Tittletott's current landholdings?

But all this happened fifteen years ago. If Rolo didn't spill the beans then, why now?

Did he bring this proof, whatever it was, back with him and plan to reveal it at the rally? Is that why he was killed?

“But that's crazy,” Sabrina said.

“Look who's talking,” a woman said loudly.

Sabrina realized that she was standing in the middle of the street opposite Tubb's Community Store, her mouth gaping open and her eyes slightly crossed as she thought. She looked around and focused on Lima who was leering at her from the porch of Tubb's. Mary Garrison Tubbs stood beside him.

“Hello.” She climbed the steps to the porch and sat down in one of the rocking chairs. Lima watched her, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“Miss Sabrina, you look as if you're thinkin' awfully hard.”

“It looks like hard work.” Mary swung the plastic bags she carried.

“It's all so sad,” Sabrina said impulsively. “Why did someone have to kill Rolo?”

“Ah,” Lima said, nodding. “Yes, it's sad. Sadder yet is that one of us on the island saw fit to do him in. I shore hope Brad knows what he's doin'.”

“It does look bad for him, doesn't it?”

“Of course he didn't do it,” Mary said. “No one else on this island did it either. It was some tourist come down here from the mainland, all hopped on some drug or another. You know how these tourists are.” She stared at Sabrina.

“I heard several people saw a blond woman who looked suspiciously like Mrs. Virginia Tittletott going through Waver Town around the time of the murder. I thought she was supposed to be helping with the rally,” Lima said. “I wonder what she was doin' there?”

“Just walking through, I suspect, like anybody's got a right to do,” Mary said. “Anyway, everyone saw her at the rally. She was there the whole time, I know it.”

“Just because she's your kin…” Lima said. “Anyway, I also heard the police found Rolo's camp, and the boat he used to get to the island. It was in the marsh, right close to the old Wrightly House.” Lima looked at Sabrina. “I also heard that the gun they found, the one in Brad's room, was almost certainly the gun used to shoot Rolo, but that it was jammed, and that was probably why the murderer had to finish Rolo off with the pruning shears.”

Mary sucked in a breath, her face twisted in consternation.

“And I hear tell everybody in the Tittletott House is under suspicion, because they found old CQ's gun in Brad's room,” Lima continued, ignoring Mary. “Anyone could have put it there, you see. I hear they got alibis from everybody at the house, and handwriting samples to match to that note they found in Rolo's pocket, I suppose. Ms. Elizabeth was in the house all day, though I ‘spect she could have slipped out if she wanted to, but someone would have seen her, wouldn't they? She's not exactly subtle, if you know what I mean. Ms. Virginia was supposedly down at the school gym, though she looks to have a double going through Waver Town about the same time. Gary was manning the desk, probably watching that godawful soap opera of his, but was he there the whole time? Brad definitely lied about where he was. Why on earth did he tell the police he was at Lighthouse Beach when he most assur-red-ly wasn't?”

“The police don't have no right to be poking into a body's private life,” Mary said. “I'm glad they don't think I'm guilty of murder, they'd be asking what type of shampoo I use, and what I write in my diary. I'm sure Brad has a pretty good reason for not telling the police where he was that day. And, you know perfectly well Elizabeth always takes a nap in the middle of the day. Virginia was at the school, everyone saw her. I know Gary was at the Tittletott House that afternoon, because he called me and asked if I knew where Henley's daddy was, because they needed a plumber for their water heater. I called him right back at the house and told him Big Henley would be there later that afternoon. So there, it couldn't have been any of them, it must have been some tourist, just like I said!”

Lima shrugged. “If you say so, Mary, you've always been the smartest, brightest woman I ever knew. Prettiest, too.” He winked at Sabrina as Mary looked mollified. “I'm just saying it doesn't look real good, aren't I?”

Sabrina got up to leave.

“I think I'll just go check on Roxanna, make sure she's not sending the letter to my sister to the pope by accident,” Mary was saying as Sabrina stepped over Bicycle on her way down the steps. He was humming a song, something she recognized.

It wasn't until she was down the street until she realized what it was:

It was a Police classic called Murder by Numbers.

***

Nettie was pulling taffy when Sabrina entered the cookie shop.

“Did you hear about Rolo?” Nettie's eyes were red and she looked old and papery like a sixty-year-old newspaper. “They've released his body. We're burying him tomorrow, on Halloween.”

“Where will you bury him?”

“They won't let us bury people in our yards anymore, like we used to. The only cemetery on the island is Dunetop, but at least Rolo will be home on Comico.” Nettie looked down at the blue green goop she was stretching between her tiny hands.

“Have you made the arrangements for the funeral? Do you need any help?”

“Oh no.” Nettie punched at the taffy and sighed. “Howard Dunsweeney, who runs the bait shop, he owns Dunetop and he's going to get Bicycle Bob to dig the grave, and he's shipping over a nice oak casket from the mainland. Pastor Josh, my nephew once removed who owns the little car lot over by the gas station, will give the service, and then everyone will come back to the house. The ladies have already started bringing food over.” Nettie glanced at the telephone. “I've been trying to get in touch with Rolo's wife, but I haven't been able to reach her.”

“Sounds like you have everything well in hand,” Sabrina said, resolving to cook something delicious to bring. Maybe a nice tiramisu or chocolate-raspberry ganache. “I have a question for you, Nettie. About Rolo.”

Nettie put the taffy aside, and went to the sink to wash her hands. “Thank you for being a friend to Rolo in his last days. It means a lot to me. What do you want to know?”

“Do you know why Dock gave Rolo the sword and a diary on his eighteenth birthday?”

Nettie stared at Sabrina in amazement. “How did you know about the diary? I didn't think anyone but the Wrightlys knew about that. Dock swore me to secrecy when we were first married, but I don't see where it matters now. Dock's dad had just given him the sword and diary, you see, and Dock told me it was a family tradition that had been going on for almost three hundred years in his family. The pirate's wife started it after Walk-the-Plank died. When their son turned eighteen, she gave him his father's diary and sword. Ever since then, when the oldest Wrightly son turns eighteen, he receives old Walk-the-Plank Wrightly's legacy. It's like a right of passage in the Wrightly family.”

Sabrina nodded slowly. Walk-the-Plank Wrightly's diary. What she wouldn't give to read that diary, to see the eighteenth century through the eyes of someone living it. It was a shame the family kept the diary a secret. It belonged in a museum.

“What does it say?” Sabrina asked. “Why is it such a secret? And what proof does it hold about the Tittletotts?”

“The Tittletotts?” Nettie frowned. “I don't know. I never read the diary. I do remember Dock told me once, when I was really put out with Elizabeth Tittletott, that the Tittletotts were no better than the Wrightlys and he had proof. He said, some day, when the time was right, everybody would know the truth. But he wouldn't say anything else about it. And then, when he gave Rolo the diary, Rolo started walking around with that sword as if he were ten foot high. It made me proud, to see him with so much confidence.”

“Hmmm.” What could it possibly say that could affect so many generations of Wrightlys?

“And then he brought it with him when he returned to the island. The diary and the sword. I saw them when I put some of my cookies in his bag one day. When I asked him about it, he started talking about righting old wrongs, and that it was time to tell the truth about this island's history. I was so happy to see Rolo after all these years, but he wasn't easy to talk to. I didn't understand what was going on with him. I wanted to talk about his wife and daughter, and all he wanted to talk about was what the Tittletotts had been doing for the last fifteen years. When he found out Thierry was going around with Brad, he got so angry he almost couldn't talk. I told him that Brad was only using Thierry to get the Waver vote, but he wasn't listening.”

“But they didn't find the diary when he died. Or the sword,” Sabrina said. “They didn't find anything on him but that note. Why wouldn't the killer take the note? It was incriminating. But maybe he or she was in too much of a hurry. Yet he or she still had time to take the sword and the diary?”

Did Rolo have the sword and the diary when he was killed? Wouldn't Rolo have been able to defend himself if he had been wearing the sword when he was attacked? And it seemed unlikely that the killer took the sword after the murder. It would have been almost impossible for the killer to conceal the sword as he or she made an inconspicuous exit from Sabrina's house. The diary, yes, the sword, no. It was possible that the killer hid the items, but the police searched the woods thoroughly. Maybe in the sound? But the water was shallow for yards and yards…Maybe Rolo hid the sword and diary before he was killed. Or maybe the killer hid them. Suddenly she had a pretty good idea where the sword and diary might be. It was the perfect place to hide treasure, after all.

“Nettie,” Sabrina said as she stood. “I've got to go. I think I know where to find the sword and diary.”

***

There was no wind in the marsh. At least, not down among the roots and mud. Above her head the top of the marsh grass fluttered in the sunny breeze, but among the rustling, scratchy stalks the air was green and stale.

“I know I'm going the right way,” Sabrina said, trying to convince herself. She trudged on through the stinking mud, slapping at bugs and watching as new battalions of the little beasties hummed their way toward her. Brown goop covered her legs well past her knees, and sweat glued her shirt to her back. It was the smell that was overwhelming, however, not the heat, the mosquitoes or even the creepy crawlies she kept seeing out of the corner of her eye. The smell of rotting vegetation, stagnant water and rich soil was almost overwhelming.

“Almost there, almost there.” She didn't know that at all, but the words made her feel better, so she kept saying them. She heard a splashing, sliding noise off to her right. Alligator? She shivered and hurried on.

Just about when she had decided she was completely lost, and doomed to wander the marsh of Comico Island for the rest of her short, miserable life, she stumbled upon the small clearing holding the treasure tree.

“Thank goodness,” Sabrina gasped as she stumbled over to one of the rotting old bus seats and collapsed in a cloud of dust and gnats. She breathed heavily for several minutes, gazing around at the quiet clearing as her breathing slowly returned to normal.

“I made it!” For a woman who was convinced that her car moved itself every time she went into the grocery store, leaving her to wheel the grocery cart in futile pursuit, she was delighted with her accomplishment.

After she caught her breath, she stood up and walked to the far side of the clearing. She'd noticed the ground was freshly disturbed the first time she was here. At the time, she thought an animal had been digging in the clearing, but now she thought she knew what lay under the raw dirt.

She had been in such a hurry that she didn't think to bring a shovel or a spade, so she started digging with her bare hands. She didn't have long to dig. No more than a foot under the ground she struck the long hard shaft of the sword. Digging carefully, she uncovered the plastic bag lying under the sword.

Inside was a small, leather-bound book.

Sabrina took the book and sat back down on the bus seat, not even noticing the dust billowing around her.

Two pieces of paper were slipped within the pages of the book. Carefully, she extracted one and unfolded it, wincing as the ancient paper tore a little along where it had been folded.

It looked familiar. It didn't take her long to recall where she had seen something like it. Over the mantle at the Tittletott House. This was also a deed to the island, dated 1716, which was four years earlier than the Tittletott's deed.

And it was made out to Roland Thierry Wrightly.

Sabrina had heard the story from Lima. She knew that Roland Thierry Wrightly the First legally owned the island before it was given to Lord Tittletott when Wrightly was exposed as a pirate.

It was the letter folded up beside the deed that surprised her.

It was a letter to a real estate lawyer, from Rolo, asking the lawyer to review the enclosed information and give his opinion on whether the Wrightlys could lawfully reclaim their rightful property, namely, much of the land on Comico Island.