Windward Secrets (21 page)

Peterson sat down hard in his chair and waited until he heard the outside door to the station close. Picking up the form lying on his desk, he crushed it into a ball and hurled it into the waste can beside his desk.

***

Diane’s phone rang. It was Jill. “What’s going on? I thought you would be back by now.”

“Peterson was not cooperating. Did you call Drew?”

“Yes, but he still didn’t answer.”

Caroline was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel. Diane sure didn’t need any help. Caroline guessed Diane didn’t need much help with anything else either.

When she hung up Diane turned to Caroline. “Drew didn’t answer. I wonder where he is.”

Caroline turned to look out the passenger’s window.
Where was Claire? Was she safe? And… where was Drew?
“Why didn’t you tell Peterson what you found at Wendell’s? Wendell could have taken Claire,” she asked, turning back to Diane.

“Because I don’t trust Peterson. I think if he thought we suspected Wendell, he would protect Wendell before he would help us. I also don’t want him hindering an investigation into Wendell. We’ll let the State Police handle that.”

“Diane, let’s make one more stop.”

Diane took her eyes off the road for a second to look at Caroline. “What did we miss?”

“The marina.”

“Caroline, you’re right. How could I have forgotten that? Did something happen when you were painting to make you suspicious?”

“Not really. I just noticed how easily boats slipped in and out and nobody paid any attention because that’s what happens at a marina. People are having parties and inviting guests onto their boats all the time. And….”

“And what?” Diane asked, skeptically.

“There was that Scot that Claire liked. Maybe she was riding around the marina and wanted to take another look at that boat. He could have invited her onto his boat and….”

Diane pulled into the marina parking lot. Both women got out of the car and quickly walked toward the docks. Diane located the dock where they had met Angus Querry and walked to his slip. The Sea Nymph was gone. Diane and Caroline exchanged worried looks.

As they walked toward their car, they saw a young man trimming bushes along the side of the parking lot.

“Excuse me,” Caroline said, approaching the young man.

The young man stopped what he was doing and turned to address Caroline, “Yes ma’am, what can I do for you?”

“I was just wondering, when a boat leaves the marina does the captain have to report where he’s going? You know, like pilots do at airports.”

“No, ma’am. They come and go as they please.”

“Well, how does the marina keep track of what boats are in what slips?”

The young man took his cap off and wiped perspiration off his brow with his sleeve. “Forms are filled out when the slips are rented so the marina knows who to charge.”

“What if the boat is not going to be here for a long time?”

The young man was getting curious. “Do you want to rent a slip?”

“No. I was just wondering how a marina operates,” Caroline said, smiling up at the young man.

“If there is a slip available, all you have to do is fill out the paperwork and pay in advance.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

Back in the car Caroline looked at Diane. “Well, we can find out who the Scot is, but not where he was headed when he left. I guess that’s up to the Coast Guard.”

Diane thought for a moment and then said, “I think we better get back to the house and see if Jill has heard from Claire or Drew.”

***

Claire

Claire opened her eyes but she couldn’t see anything; there was something covering her face. She was lying on a flat, rocking surface. The movement made her nauseous. She couldn’t move her right arm or leg without stabbing pain. There was something heavy on top of her. She wiggled the fingers of her left hand to see if they moved. Feeling around, there was something warm and sticky under her left hip and side. She reached up to feel the weight on her body. Tracing the object she realized it was her bike. Claire moved her hand to her face and smelled blood. She couldn’t feel her face because her head was covered with cloth. When she pulled at it, two strong hands grabbed her arm and held it to the floor. She tried to move away but it was no use. The arms holding her were much stronger and the pain so intense she had to stop. The next thing she felt was a needle sliding into a vein in her arm.

***

The kitchen at Windward Cottage was overflowing with food. There was fried chicken, potato salad, a carrot cake and brownies cooling on top of the stove, and a fruit salad in the refrigerator.

“What the heck is all this?” Diane asked Jill surveying the kitchen.

Turning from the sink Jill wiped her wet hands on a tea towel. “I cook when I’m nervous,” Jill answered. “Did you find her?”

“No,” Diane said. “How about you? Any news?”

“Nothing.” The more Jill wiped her hands the faster she paced around the kitchen. “Where is she? I can’t understand why we haven’t heard from her. And, where’s Drew? Why isn’t he answering his phone?”

Diane and Caroline were bringing Jill up-to-date on their activities when there was a knock at the front door. All three arrived at the door at the same time.

A uniformed, Overnight Express, delivery man stood on the porch. “Special delivery for Ms. Jill Stone,” he said, holding up a large envelope. Caroline ran for a tip while Jill signed for the envelope and started opening it.

Jill quickly fanned through the contents. “It’s pictures from Joe. He was able to open the disks from the security cameras and print the frames that showed activity.” Suddenly, all but one picture slipped from her hands and she turned white.

Caroline bent to pick up the photos and Diane grabbed the one in Jill’s hand. “What is it?”

Jill slumped down into the nearest chair. “Look closely at the men in the photo.”

Diane and Caroline sat down on the sofa next to Jill and studied the picture.

The picture showed four men walking along the dock that ran parallel to the Marina Restaurant in the direction of Swift Runner. The image was excellent because they had not yet turned onto the dock that led to the slip where Swift Runner was berthed.

The faces of three of the men could be seen clearly. They recognized two of them. Wendell and Peterson. The third man’s head was turned looking at the water.

Caroline pointed to the fourth man. “Jill look at this man. He was at the restaurant today with Peterson. I know him from somewhere.”

Jill looked more closely. “We saw him at the newspaper office. Remember. I think he’s the owner.”

“Who’s the third man?” Diane asked.             

Jill and Caroline shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads.

Diane looked at Caroline. “Where’s the backpack. We need to look at dates.”

Caroline ran to the third floor and pulled the back pack out from under Claire’s bed. Back in the parlor, she started reading off dates when girls had gone missing while Caroline and Jill searched through the stack of photos for matching dates in the lower left corner of each photo. They only needed to match three or four dates before Diane exclaimed, “Oh my God! Peterson and Wendell. What have I done? I just turned Peterson loose on Claire. He may be involved in her disappearance. We have to find her before he does.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when they heard Ike barking in the distance. It was more of a soulful wail.

Jill raced to the door hoping to see Drew with Ike.

Ike was racing out of the woods on the other side of the road toward the house. He didn’t wait for the door to be opened but burst through the screen and directly toward Jill. Grabbing her pant leg with his teeth he started pulling her toward the door.

“Something’s wrong. We have to follow him,” Jill said, trying to calm Ike.

Faster than what seemed humanly possible Diane ran to the kitchen and grabbed flashlights and jackets. Returning to the parlor she threw one of each to Jill, opened her handbag and pulled out her gun. “Caroline, you stay here to take calls. If Spence, or anyone else for that matter calls, tell them which way we’ve headed; that is, anyone other than Peterson and O’Reilly.”

Ike let go of Jill’s jeans and ran back through the hole in the screen door barking frantically. Jill and Diane followed him.

Diane stopped on the porch and looked back at Caroline. “Lock all the doors and windows. We’ll call you if we find anything.”

***

Ike led Diane and Jill through trees and brambles up the hill that overlooked Windward Cottage. At one point they trudged through a stream in knee deep water. Ike would race ahead and then return to urge the women on. As they climbed higher Ike barked less.

“We must be getting close to whatever he wants to show us,” Jill said. “He’s not barking as much.”

Diane stopped to catch her breath and called Ike to her side. Patting his head she said, “It’s okay Ike. Take it easy.”

The dog seemed to understand and continued more slowly and without barking.

After an hour of steady climbing they came across a dirt road and Ike once again hurried ahead of them. Within minutes he was back tugging at Jill’s pant leg pulling her toward the side of the road.

“I think he wants us off the road,” Jill said. “Let’s stay where there’s cover.”

Even Ike was treading carefully and making very little noise. Twenty more minutes and Ike stopped and stood perfectly still. Peeking from behind trees, the women saw a dilapidated shack with two vehicles parked in front. One was a white van backed up to the shack and the other was a black Mercedes with a Massachusetts license plate.

Jill stared at the black Mercedes with an expression Diane couldn’t read. Diane carefully walked to Jill and whispered, “You stay here with Ike. I’m going to see if I can see inside the shack.”

Jill nodded and watched as Diane carefully made her way to the back of the ramshackled structure. Dusk was upon them making it difficult for Diane to pick her way quietly to the shed. There was only one window at the back where Diane could see in through a ragged curtain.

Claire lay on the floor in a heap like a disjointed doll. Her face was turned in the opposite direction. Diane couldn’t tell whether she was breathing. There was a large, dark stain on her shirt.

Three men stood looking down at her. Diane could not see their faces. The man closest to Claire pushed her shoulder with his foot and she flopped onto her back.

“You idiots,” he snarled. “You got the wrong one.”

The other two stepped closer to Claire and looked down at her. “What do ya mean? She fits your description better than any of the others.”

“You morons. I never should have entrusted you with this.” Then to himself he added, “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

“What are you going to do?” one of the other men asked.

“I’m going to finish what you started?” he said, turning toward the door.

The other men followed.

Diane slipped around the side of the building to see where the men had gone. Peeking around the front corner of the shack she saw the man, who had rolled Claire over, open the trunk of the Mercedes and remove a large, red, gasoline can.

“Hey man,” called one of the other two who were now standing near the white van. “We want our money.”

“You’ll get it when the job’s done and not before.”

From nowhere, Ike burst past Diane and went for the man holding the gas can. The man saw him coming and was ready for him. Holding the can with both hands, he swung the can toward Ike’s head just as Ike leaped. The can hit Ike squarely in the head and knocked him into the Mercedes. Ike slid down the side of the car and lay motionless on the ground.

Diane stepped around the corner of the building with her gun grasped in both hands and pointed it directly at the man with the gas can. Taking a police stance she called out, “drop the can and don’t move.”

“Oh, come on lady,” the man yelled. “Who do you think you’re kidding?”

With practiced precision Diane slipped the safety off, pulled the trigger, and took out his right knee. Screaming, the man dropped the can and collapsed.

“Now, does that look like I’m kidding?” Turning quickly, she aimed at the other two men.

“Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot,” they yelled, and raised their hands above their heads.

Jill was now beside Diane.

“Jill, go into the shed and see if Claire’s alive.”

Diane motioned to the two men beside the van to walk closer to the man at the Mercedes. “Move over there and if you try anything you’re dead.”

Jill did as she was told and returned shortly. “She’s breathing, but barely.”

“Look in the van, and car, to see if you can find a blanket.”

“Diane, is that Drew?” Jill asked, nodding toward the man near the Mercedes.

“I don’t know, I didn’t get a good look at his face. Take care of Claire.”

Jill found a blanket in the van and went back inside the shack.