Island Blues (23 page)

Chapter Forty-six

After leaving Vicki, Sabrina steered the moped down the gravel road beside the harbor. She should be going the other way, toward her apartment and her packing, but she had unfinished business at Boathouse Alley.

The small nap she stole after returning from the hospital on the mainland was just a drop in the empty reservoir of her sleep deficit. She felt as if she could sleep for days, but when she was finally done with the police out at Shell Lodge, the choice had been either lying down to sleep or visiting Lima.

Lima was asleep, but still Sabrina told him everything that had happened. She hoped the story would relieve the boredom that abundant unconsciousness must be bringing him. Mary Garrison Tubbs listened in open-mouthed astonishment

“And he got away? They let him get away?” Mary pounded her fist on a nearby machine, making it sound an alarm. Nurses came running.

Amid the scrambling nurses, Sabrina nodded. “Michael must have heard Lance tell his story. By the time the police arrived, he and his father had left, and they found Michael's rental Jeep at the ferry docks. Cindy at the ticket booth said Michael bought a walk-aboard ticket, but by the time they got things organized on the mainland, the ferry had docked and Michael was gone.”

“Was Cindy sober when she saw him?”

“It was seven o'clock in the morning,” Sabrina protested.

“You didn't answer my question.” Mary tapped her foot.

“Anyway, it looks like he left his father on the island. The Hummers agree, though, that Joseph never uttered a word in their sessions. It looks like Michael was using him as a puppet, so the police have named Joseph a person of interest for his own safety. They still haven't found him.” Sabrina had not told them where to look. She wasn't sure why, but it somehow seemed a betrayal of both Joseph and Bicycle.

“And the Hummers, they're all here at the hospital getting those electrodes taken out?”

“I'm sure they're done by now. With the help of the files from Gilbert's computer, the doctors knew exactly where to look.” Sabrina gazed down at Lima. He looked so fragile, his cheeks drooping with age spots, his eyelids bruised and brittle. He would hate it if he knew he looked vulnerable.

Now, as she drove the moped down Hurricane Harbor Circle, she saw Sergeant Jimmy watching her, shaking his head.

“Where in the world did you get that contraption?” he asked as she pulled up in front of him. “Never mind. They've been questioning Lance Mayhew all day, but he's sticking to his story.”

“He could have killed Gilbert easily,” Sabrina mused as Calvin woke up and chirped at Jimmy. He liked the sergeant's beard. “And he had a very good reason to do so.”

“I'm not convinced he didn't go to Goat Island with the intention of killing the victim. Why didn't he sign out the kayak? Why weren't his fingerprints on it? By his own admission he was the last to see Gilbert. Whether he did it or not is anyone's guess. We're still sorting through the ramifications of this blackmailing scam. Of course, this just introduces a bunch more people who had very good reasons to want the man dead. I wish we knew where the murder weapon—the corkscrew—went. That bugs me, that the killer came back for it after Lance Mayhew saw the victim dead on the beach. I'm not sure what to think, but I have my money on Michael Siderius.”

“I think he was jealous of Gilbert.” Sabrina tried to keep the moped balanced with one good leg. “If Gilbert was gone, Michael would have complete control of the organization.”

Jimmy nodded. “Makes sense to me. I've got him figured for the attack on the model, and the ransacking of Myers' boat, at the very least. I think he must have figured out what Myers was up to and sacked his boat as a kind of warning.”

“Then he went on to attack Sophie. I wonder why?”

“He may have been looking for something, or he may have just felt like taking a go at her. She is a beautiful woman, and Siderius doesn't strike me as the type to control his impulses.”

“What about Sam? What happens to him?”

“Officially, he's still our guy, but we've widened the investigation. A judge set his bail this morning, and some group out of Taos raised it by this afternoon. We told him not to leave the island, and since we impounded his boat, he's staying down at Boathouse Alley.”

Sabrina didn't mention that she had already heard this piece of information through the island grapevine, or that Boathouse Alley was where she was headed now. She was in Jimmy's good graces at the moment, and she did so hate to ruin that.

“What about Marilee and the break-ins? What will happen to her?”

“Nobody wants to press charges, not even the absent owner of the rental cottage, once I explained the circumstances. I think Marilee's learned her lesson, and Matt Fredericks has apparently decided to capitalize on the whole thing. He's hired Marilee to be some sort of part-time prohibition tour guide at his lodge. Isn't that something?”

“It sure is,” Sabrina agreed, but her eyes were on a tall man limping down the street toward them.

“It's good to have Doc Hailey back in town.” Jimmy had followed the direction of her gaze.

The doctor approached the two of them and tipped his head in a cordial nod. “Sergeant, Sabrina. I trust you are doing well?”

“Have you heard anything about the Hummers, doctor?” Sabrina asked. He had coordinated the five Hummers' visit to the hospital on the mainland to remove the electrodes.

“The whole thing is very interesting,” he said. “These electrodes are based on the principle of transmitting sound through the skin, bones, and liquids of our body, which in theory allows people to hear without using their ears. I really would like to do some more research on the whole matter. Perhaps after my next trip.”

“The Hummers are back from the mainland, and we've asked that they stay around a while longer,” Jimmy said. “This whole thing is still up in the air.”

“However, they are all so happy to be rid of the electrodes and the resultant hum that they are treating these extra days as a sort of vacation,” Doc Hailey said with a smile that lit up his irregular face.

“I guess I can't help but wonder about all the other people out there who are hearing the Hum,” Sabrina said. “They aren't connected with Hummers International and their blackmailing scheme, so what's causing their Hum?”

“I looked into it after I heard Joseph Siderius speak all those years ago. It seems clear that there are thousands of people who are suffering but, because their symptoms are so ephemeral, it's hard to get anyone to pay attention to them. It's a shame really, because these people may very well be tuning into something that is affecting all of us, and we don't even realize it.”

“Sounds pretty deep,” Jimmy said.

“I'll be going now,” Doc Hailey said. “Sabrina, please feel free to come see me if your injuries should trouble you. As a matter of fact,” he hesitated, the first time Sabrina had seen him show anything but complete confidence, “perhaps we could have dinner one night?”

***

Calvin trilled in delight as she sped toward Boathouse Alley. Well, sped was not quite the word for it. Calvin enjoyed the wind through his feathers, but he considered anything over ten miles an hour too fast. That's why Sabrina was leading a parade of impatiently honking cars around Hurricane Harbor Circle toward the ferry docks. She understood their agitation as the ferry's horn blew, announcing the last departure for the evening. She pulled off the road and watched the cars barrel past her, only to brake at the roadblock set up in front of the entrance to the ferry.

The police weren't taking any chances. Sabrina nodded in approval and waved at the police officers manning the blockade. The public beach was empty this cloudy, windy evening, except for a few diehards who were searching the sand for shells. The sound looked dark and unsettled as the wind pushed at it fitfully, and thick clouds were drawn over the sky.

Ahead was the hulking row of two-story boathouses. The old dames of Comico Island, made up in bright colors for their last birthday party, were considered one of the island's historic landmarks. Sabrina couldn't imagine the waterfront without them. They were moored on the old ferry docks, which were damaged in a long-ago hurricane. Beyond the boathouses, behind a fence, were the ruins of the rest of the docks. It was a large complex, as the Navy had built onto the existing docks to use as a supply depot during World War II. The military soon abandoned the docks to move to a newly built base on the other end of the island.

Every year someone would start kicking up a fuss about tearing down the docks because they were an eyesore and a danger to the fisherman who snuck past the padlocked gates. Every year the initiative failed out of inertia. There wasn't enough money to tear them down, and besides, no one really cared.

Sabrina got off the moped and limped toward the Boathouse Alley office, which was a small shack perched on the edge of the docks. An old golf cart, with “Boathouse Alley” painted across the side, was parked out front. The boathouses were rented out weekly and monthly, and a few of them had year-round inhabitants. Right now they were rocking and creaking in the freshening gale, straining against the massive ropes that held them in place.

Sabrina stared down the row of boathouses, wondering how she was going to find Sam. Most of the boathouses contained two apartments, and it looked as if some of them were occupied. However, there was no clue as to which might house Sam Myers. For all Sabrina knew, he was watching her out the window right now.

Her only warning was a startled chirp from Calvin before an arm came down across her windpipe, and Sabrina was dragged backward into the shadows beside the empty office. Sabrina choked and clawed at the arm holding her, but it felt like a sinewy piece of board across her neck. She couldn't breathe, and all of her exertion was not improving her oxygen supply. She could hear Calvin shrieking and hoped her attacker would not harm him as well.

She began jabbing her elbows into her attacker's abdomen, and kicking her heels back into sensitive shin and ankle bones, wincing as her own sore ankle protested this treatment. Just as Sabrina felt the edges of her vision turn black, her assailant yelped and let go. She stumbled forward a few steps, drawing in great gasping breaths of air, and then forced herself to keep going. Her moped was only a few steps away, but her attacker wasn't down for the count. Footsteps were already staggering behind her in pursuit.

Her ankle was sending sharp, stabbing signals up her leg, and she knew she couldn't rely on it much longer. Calvin was tangled in her hair, beating his wings against the back of her neck and screeching for help for all he was worth. Sabrina hoped someone heard him, because she didn't have the breath for screaming right now.

She reached her moped and threw herself on it. She started the engine and felt a hand come down on her arm just before she took off with a peel of rubber past the row of boathouses.

Here the dock was concrete and about as wide as a one-lane road. That was the good news. The bad news was that there was a fence up ahead, blocking the entrance to the ruined docks beyond. She should never have gone this way, but that was well and good to think now. At the time, there was no choice but to accelerate whichever way the moped was pointed.

A glance behind showed that any hope that her attacker had abandoned the chase was misguided. A golf cart—it must have been the one that had been parked in front of the office—was headed in her direction. It was already past the boathouses and was accelerating along the cracked concrete toward her. She still could not make out the person's face.

A trill of alarm had her looking around to see the rusty gate looming in front of her. She slammed on the brakes, skidding the last few inches so the front tire of the moped crashed into the gate. The rusty chain holding it together snapped, and the gate swung open in creaky invitation.

With no other choice, Sabrina revved the moped through the gate. She slowed, wondering if she should try to bar the gate in some fashion, but the sound of shrieking metal told her it was already too late. A glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicion. The golf cart was right behind her.

And now she could see the face of her assailant.

Chapter Forty-seven

Michael Siderius was smiling.

Sabrina had to look twice to make sure she was seeing correctly. She was. Michael seemed to be enjoying himself as he steered the golf cart around debris on the dock, so much so that a gleeful grin played across his handsome face.

Sabrina turned back around just in time to see that she was about to become airborne. At some point in the last couple of years, kids had snuck past the gate and built a makeshift skateboard park. The first ramped jump sent her flying two feet into the air at fifteen miles an hour, her legs flying out from beneath her as she clutched at the handles. Calvin whooped as they hit the ground with a jarring thump and she managed to regain her feet on the footrests enough to continue forward.

A quick look revealed that Michael had tried to avoid the jump, though he was only partially successful. Two tires hit the ramp, lifting them off the ground. For a moment it looked as if maybe the cart would tip over, but then the airborne tires came crashing down with a sparking jolt.

She thought she was better prepared for the next jump, but it proved higher than the first, and she hung in the air, fighting to keep her grip on handles and pedals while trying to ignore the hard concrete sliding beneath her. If she landed the wrong way, the results would be at the least very painful, and possibly fatal. Her moped hit the ground on the back tire and she felt like an inept cousin of Evel Kneivel as she roared along in classic wheelie presentation. She leaned all her weight forward and finally the front tire came down with a teeth-knocking thud.

The last jump she managed to avoid altogether, and as she accelerated past it, she saw that it was a good thing, too, as the jump was almost five feet tall. She couldn't even imagine children launching their fragile little bodies off it.

Michael had avoided the last two jumps, but was having trouble steering his larger vehicle around the trash and crumpled concrete that littered the docks. She wondered why he had come back to the island, and then realized he had never left. Cindy was mistaken about the identity of the buyer of the walk-aboard ticket.

Michael must have arrived at the docks after the first ferry sailed, but the police showed up soon after that and he was forced to leave on foot. Remembering the die-hard beach-goers she saw as she passed the public beach, she thought it was likely that Michael had hung out on the beach all day, watching for his chance to board the ferry. Clearly, that opportunity never arose. He must have seen her pass on the moped and stop at the boathouse office, though what he wanted with her was anyone's guess. What did Jimmy say?
Siderius doesn't strike me as the type to control his impulses.
Perhaps he was coming after her out of sheer anger that she helped unmask his blackmail scheme and engineered the fall of the Hummers International empire.

Whatever his reasons, he showed no signs of giving up. Sabrina concentrated on the seamed, trash-strewn pavement before her. She refused to think about what she would do when she reached the end of the long dock. She briefly considered the wooden finger piers that jutted off the main concrete pier, but they were rickety and marked with strident “Keep out” signs. Her only choice was to continue the way she was going until she reached the end of the line. But then what?

On the face of it, Sabrina and the moped should have won the race to the end of the pier hands down. Her moped was faster and more maneuverable than Michael's golf cart, which seemed to top out at about fifteen miles an hour. This equation, however, did not take Calvin into consideration. He had somehow made it to the top of her head, and was perched there precariously, his claws dug into her scalp for balance. Whenever she tried to push the moped faster than ten or fifteen miles an hour, he yelped as his grip on her head loosened. The thought of him flying off her head like a yellow feather duster and landing in the path of the golf cart kept her speed down. He'd never survive. Like a turtle following the sloth, she and Michael continued their slow motion race toward the end of the pier.

Sabrina tried to reach up and rescue Calvin from his dangerous perch, but as soon as her hand left the handle, a loose rock sent the moped's front tire jittering sideways. For a moment she thought she was going to lose control, and she fought to keep the moped from falling over on its side. She regained control, but Michael pulled his golf cart up beside her and began edging her toward the edge of the pier and the fifteen-foot dropoff into the water. Sabrina tried to accelerate, but Calvin screeched in alarm as his grip loosened. As the edge neared, she did the only thing she could, and slammed on the brakes. Then she dodged behind the golf cart and did a slow crawl past it on the other side. Michael looked around at her, his face twisted with frustration, and in that moment his vehicle slammed into a piling.

The golf cart bounced backward, two of its tires scrabbling for purchase on the concrete, the other two hanging in air. Michael slid out the passenger side of the cart as the vehicle slipped off the pier into the rough, hungry water.

There was no time to gloat over this victory, however, because the end of the pier was upon her. Sabrina reached it, slid the moped into a U-turn, and charged back the way she had come. She hoped to take Michael off guard and swoop by him before he knew what was happening, and for a moment it looked like it was going to work. At the last moment he took a charging leap across the concrete and grabbed the edge of her shirt. He lost his grip almost immediately, but she was thrown off balance. The moped wobbled back and forth as she fought for control, and then almost apologetically laid down on its side. Sabrina found herself sliding across the concrete, her hands over her head to protect Calvin.

When she sat up, she saw she had been jettisoned down one of the older wooden finger piers. Michael was coming toward her, and there would be no opportunity this time to get by him. Sabrina had no choice but to limp away from him, trying not to trip over loose and missing boards.

In front of her was new orange plastic fencing, and an old rusted sign that said “Keep out.” Sabrina grabbed the top of the flexible fencing and pulled it down enough so she could climb over it. Her ankle was throbbing now, as were several other newer injuries.

Beyond the fencing, the dock continued for ten more feet, and then petered out into horizontal girder boards connected to pilings. The dock slats had long since disappeared. The wind was blowing viciously, kicking up whale spouts of salt spray.

Sabrina threw a glance back over her shoulder to see Michael clambering over the orange fencing, ripping it in the process. Calvin chittered in fear, huddling against the back of her neck. Sabrina looked around for a weapon, but all the loose boards had been taken or fallen into the water below. Michael was almost upon her.

Sabrina stepped out onto the nearest girder. The board was only an inch and a half wide, and slippery with salt spray, but she was desperate. She shuffled sideways until she reached the first piling and clung onto it for dear life. She looked up to see Michael kicking his shoes off and laughing.

“I almost went to the Olympics, Sabrina, did you know that?” he called over the sound of pounding waves and cawing seagulls.

With a capsized feeling, Sabrina remembered. Michael's sport was gymnastics. She had made a horrific mistake. “Why are you doing this?” she called back. “Hurting me won't help you in any way.”

“Sure it will. It'll make
me
feel better. You've ruined everything, you know.” As he talked he stepped out onto the girder. He smiled as he spun around on one foot and then moved easily toward her. Sabrina turned and looked at the next girder, but she couldn't bring herself to go any farther. What was the point? He would just follow her. Her options were gone. Below the angry water swirled around large rocks. If she fell off now, it would be almost impossible to miss one of those rocks. And even if she did, they were a long way from shore, and the waves were rough.

She looked up to see Michael doing a handstand. He brought his feet down and stood, smiling at her. He was like a wild puppy off its leash, and had been ever since Gilbert died. Gilbert had been Michael's restraining influence, Sabrina saw now. Without him, Michael was free to give in to his every dangerous inclination.

“Did you try to run me over the other night?” she asked, the only thing that occurred to her.

“Sure did. Fred said you saw him taking pictures of the morons at their rituals. Then I saw you talking to Myers on his sailboat. I knew who Myers was, and I figured you and him were plotting against me. I followed you after you left the lodge. Once I saw you were headed for the bridge, I went around the long way and parked on the other side to wait for you.”

“You almost killed me!” Calvin added a shriek of indignation and Michael laughed.

“I didn't figure I'd kill you, though I wasn't sure, really. I just wanted to get you out of the way for a couple of days until we left. You don't scare easy, that's for sure. Did you even notice how close I came to running you off the road that night on the causeway?”

“That was you? I thought it was just some drunk. And what about Gilbert? Why did you kill Gilbert?”

“Gilbert? I didn't touch a hair on his head, as much as I might have wanted to. I've never killed anyone before, though I had some fun roughing up the model. Now that I see how easy it is to do and not get caught, I think I'll start. With you.” His smile was wide.

“If you didn't kill Gilbert, who did?”

“You're asking me? I thought it was Lance. I was going to give the guy a medal but he punched me in the nose instead. Gilbert was losing it, he really was. Someone needed to put him out of his misery.” Michael raised his arms over his head and leaned backward until he touched the girder with the palms of his hands.

“What about your father? Where's he?” For the first time it occurred to her that Michael could have harmed Joseph.

“He wasn't in his room when I left, not that I would have taken him anyway. The old man has no idea what's going on. He would sit there and look wise while I intoned all this bogus crap. He's in his own world, has been since he started getting all mystical and then stopped talking. I think he started believing all his own hype about the Hum, can you believe it?” Michael laughed.

“That's when you and Gilbert stepped in and took over Hummers International.”

“My father didn't know what to do with what he had. He put together this organization of rubes, and then he squandered the gold mine. Gilbert and I saw the potential, and we did what needed to be done.”

“By blackmailing people?”

“It was a great scheme. It was. It's all over now, of course, but I have a new idea that will be even better. This time I can do it the way
I
want, with no Gilbert to ruin the fun. It'll be great.” Michael smiled with genuine pleasure. “I'd love to do a back flip,” he said, almost to himself.

“A back flip?” Sabrina stared at him in astonishment.

“A back flip is the only thing that kept me from winning Olympic gold, you know.” Michael bounced up and down on the balls of his feet.

“I bet you couldn't do one here.” Sabrina's hand slipped on bird excrement, and she threw both of her arms around the piling to keep her balance. The light was fading fast.

“That Olympics thing, it was a fluke. I'd've won gold if my foot hadn't slipped.” Michael was growing agitated, gripping and ungripping the girder with his bare toes.

“I bet you were never any good. Nothing I've seen you do looks very impressive to me.” Calvin was muttering miserably and Sabrina was beginning to shiver as the combination of spray and wind leached away her body heat.

Michael glared at her. “Not impressive? This from the woman clutching a piling covered with bird crap? Not so high and mighty now, are you?”

“I'm saying I don't think you're very good, that's all. In fact, you look pretty lousy to me.” Sabrina's teeth chattered as she said this. It was all or nothing. Either Michael would come after her, and that would be the end, or—

Michael took a step forward and then did the back flip. He executed it perfectly, coming down on both feet. He started to raise his arms triumphantly, but his foot slipped, and he fell forward. His head collided with the girder with a brain-smashing thud and he lay still, his arms and legs draped on either side of the girder.

***

A half an hour later, a battered and bruised Sabrina rode her hiccuping moped back down the pier. It had been no easy task getting to safety past an unconscious Michael Siderius. She had to clamber over him, praying he wouldn't fall onto the rocks below and take her with him.

But in the end, she managed that and more, as she pulled his insensate body the few feet to the relative safety of the dock. He now lay wrapped in flexible orange fencing. She had no illusions it would hold him for long after he woke, but she hoped it would be good enough until the police arrived.

Sam Myers was coming out of one of the boathouses as she rode up.

“Sabrina! Are you okay?”

Sabrina pulled her moped to a weary stop. Without asking any other questions, Sam helped her into the boathouse and called 9-1-1. Then he listened as she recounted her tale. Sirens were approaching as she finished.

“Your sister,” Sabrina said. “How did you know that the Hummers were involved in her suicide?”

“I found one of the pictures. This was after the police cleared me for the death of her ex-husband. I could have taken it to them, but…I couldn't do that to her. I burned it, but it put me on the right track. I hooked up with a group in Taos, New Mexico, who steered me in the right direction. I heard Hummers International planned to bring their next retreat to Comico Island, so I took a leave of absence from the university and got a job here as dock master a couple of months ago. Then I waited for my chance to avenge my sister.”