Island Intrigue (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-eight

Sabrina had never been to a wake quite like the one held after Rolo's funeral. She was puzzled by the jackets most of the islanders wore to the funeral, considering the mild temperature, and even more puzzled by the identical bulges in each of the pockets. As they filed into Nettie's big green house, she was astonished to see person after person pull a bottle of liquor out of his or her coat and place it on a table set up by the front door, which was already groaning with its heavy load of bottles.

Lima saw Sabrina studying the growing pile of liquor in perplexity.

“Don't have nothing like this in Sin-city-nati, huh?” Lima swaggered over to Sabrina, munching on an hors' doeuvre.

“Not quite,” Sabrina said, accepting her defeat gracefully. She just wished she could take the old man to Cincinnati and see how he felt in the big city. She was still absorbing Brad's amazing story, and from what she could hear, so was everybody else.

“Weell,” Lima said in satisfaction. “There was a day when there was no money on the island to speak of. We didn't need it, you understand? We had our gardens, the cows and goats in the marsh, and the bounty of the bitch in blue. The ocean.” Lima explained quickly, seeing Sabrina's disapproving look. “We had everything we needed right here. Except liquor. That we had to ship in. Of course, you had your random stills and toxic moonshine, but it wasn't quite the same thing. Liquor became more precious than gold. Whenever anybody died, the people would all get together and chip in for a bottle of liquor, and gave it to the bereaved. It was better than money, you see. Now, we all give a bottle of liquor to show our respect. Every day before a funeral the liquor store's wiped out completely.”

All these old traditions were making her head spin. “What,” she asked, “does Nettie do with all this liquor?”

“We'll open it before too long, don't you worry,” Lima said, winking.

“I see.” Sabrina gazed around the room. None of the Tittletotts were in sight. Apparently the truce between families only lasted through the funeral. Either that, or the scene at the funeral had changed their plans. It was too bad, because Sabrina wanted to talk to them.

Lima and Sabrina went through the crowded front room to the kitchen, where a fire was blazing and the counter was laden with plates of food in mismatched plates. She could see her own coconut and saffron rice pudding at the dessert end of the table. While she watched, Bicycle Bob loaded a scoop of the pudding on his plate and took a big bite. He burst into a coughing fit, his eyes watering.

“Cut out your heart,” Horatio crooned, swaying back and forth on his perch and unfurling his top feathers. “Raawk! Here kitty!” Horatio glared at a child who strayed too close to the cage.

Sabrina tsked in the bird's direction and loaded a plastic plate with food.

“Um, Lima? What's this?” Sabrina held up a dark gray ball studded with what looked like nuts.

“Oyster ball.”

Sabrina took a tentative bite and then a larger bite. She went through her plate, asking Lima to identify the more bizarre items and ate with gusto. Dock was wandering around the kitchen, drinking from other people's cups and digging into the food on the serving plates with his fingers. He seemed oblivious to the people around him and was making sounds in his throat that sounded like: “Bugabugabuga.”

“Have you got your costume for tonight?” Lima asked. “I'm going to be Elvis, in honor of Rolo. He loved Elvis when he was a kid. I got a purple leisure suit and I've been practicing my sneer. What do you think?” He twisted his face into a grotesque grimace.

“Er—yes, Lima, very nice. You don't think it would be disrespectful to celebrate Halloween when someone's just been buried?”

“Oh Lordy. Nothing could stop Halloween. We don't get much of a chance to let loose around here, so when we do, we go all out.”

Sabrina hid a smile. From what she could see, the islanders got plenty of chances to let loose, and they took advantage of every occasion.

“On Comico, Halloween's more for the adults than the kids. The kids go around to the houses and trick or treat from five to six-thirty or so, but then they go home and their parents go out. We all get to pretend we're someone else for the night. You don't get too many opportunities like that.”

Sabrina nodded thoughtfully and chewed on a scallop pancake.

“I've got a question,” she said after a moment, aware that both she and Lima had stayed far away from Brad's confession. It was still too fresh. “Who is Shelby? And why did Nettie put his fishing pole in Rolo's casket?”

“Weeell, back in my great-great grandpappy's day, there was a huge storm that hit the island, nicknamed the Black Friday Storm because the sun never came up that Friday, or at least not that anybody could see. Shelby Wrightly was out on his boat, and while he was trying to get back to harbor, a big wave came up and swamped his boat. Shelby was washed away by the waves, and he knew as sure as grits ain't groceries that he was going to drown. He drank so much of that ocean that afterwards he never drank a glass of water again. Right about that time come a casket just a bobbing along—this was before they started putting skillets in the caskets, you understand, so it was floating along just as pretty as you please. So, Shelby, he grabbed onto that casket and held on to the handles for dear life. Well, the storm rolled on for that day and then the next, but eventually it died down and Shelby looked around and found himself far out to sea, just a-bobbing on top of that casket. Well, days past, and Shelby grew awful hungry and thirsty, and the day came that out of pure desperation he opened up that casket while it was floating on the sea. And lo and behold he found a fishing pole next to the dried up old corpse. Someone had buried the man's favorite fishing pole with him, and it saved Shelby's life. He used that pole to catch fish, and rain came and he drank. After a month, he finally washed up on shore. And the only reason he stayed alive was because of that fishing pole. After that, everybody thought it was such a fine idea that they started burying a man's favorite fishing pole with him when he died. And who knows, if ever those skillets don't work, some poor adrift soul might need to use that pole to catch his dinner.”

Lima took a bite of Sabrina's rice pudding. His eyes got wide, and his face turned red as he swallowed.

“What in the hell is that?”

“It's coconut and saffron rice pudding. Do you like it? I made it. Here, there's plenty left.” Sabrina ladled another heaping spoonful onto his plate and went over to help with the cleanup in the kitchen.

***

It was almost three o'clock when Sabrina hurried toward town.

The afternoon was glorious, the cool breeze adding a salty tang to the golden air, like a perfect margarita. Sabrina strode through Waver Town, over the bridge and along the harbor where the pubs were doing brisk business as people geared up for Halloween. Sabrina was still not done with her costume, and she needed one last touch to make it perfect.

“Miss Sabrina!” a voice called, and Sabrina turned to see Sergeant Jimmy McCall bearing down on her, as unstoppable as a dump truck.

“Hello Sergeant.” Sabrina stopped on her way up the Tittletott sidewalk. “How is Thierry?”

“Upset. We released him into his mother's custody a little while ago. We'll have to charge him with something, but nobody wants to see him go away for this. He genuinely thought Brad was responsible for killing his brother.”

“And did he?”

Jimmy shrugged his massive shoulders. “What Brad did fifteen years ago is despicable. And whether or not he actually set Edie's house on fire, we'll never know, though someone did it on purpose, I know that much. But it doesn't mean he's Rolo's killer, though it certainly gives him a motive. As it is, we've got no proof. They're still questioning him at the station, but he'll be out soon.”

Sabrina nodded.

“Hmph. Well, what I wanted to tell you was this: be careful. I'm not sure if you meant to or not, but your eulogy made it sound as if Rolo told you something, maybe the something that Rolo was killed for. Do you follow my drift?”

Sabrina thought back on her words, and remembered Jimmy McCall's frantic hand waving. She hadn't meant to imply anything, of course, but she saw what the sergeant meant.

“My goodness. I did at that, didn't I?”

“What are you doing here?” Jimmy glanced up at the Tittletott House.

“I came to give my condolences to the family.”

Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “Lady, you haven't been here two weeks, and already you've got your fingers in every pie on the island. I can't imagine what would happen if you lived here full time!”

Sabrina waved good-bye to the sergeant and went up the sidewalk, letting herself in the front door.

Virginia looked up as she entered. She was still wearing the slate gray dress she wore to the funeral, and her eyes were red and puffy.

“Hello, Sabrina.” Virginia leafed through some papers on the desk and dabbed at her eyes.

“I'm so sorry for your family, Virginia. This must be hard for you.”

“I'm just glad the truth's out about Brad.”

“You knew?”

Virginia nodded, and picked up a pen and wrote something.

“How long have you known?”

Virginia looked up, and Sabrina saw that her beautiful eyes brimmed with tears. “Brad told me years ago, that night we were together. I didn't know what to do, who to tell.” Virginia shook her head. “What could I do?”

Sabrina said nothing. “Is Elizabeth here? I'd like to talk to her.”

Virginia nodded. “She's supervising the girl cleaning a room for a check in. Come on, I'll show you.”

Sabrina followed Virginia up the wide stairs. The dim hallway stretched the length of the house and doors marched down the white walls. Floor boards creaked under their feet, and sounds from a TV floated from behind one of the closed doors.

“Gary, would you mind watching the desk? I need to get dressed.” Virginia paused before an open door. Sabrina glanced over Virginia's shoulder at the large luxurious bedroom, complete with fireplace and sitting area. Gary was feeding another log into the fireplace.

“I'll be right down.” Gary's voice was devoid of emotion. He had changed from his funeral clothes into threadbare khaki slacks and a rumpled shirt.

“Don't be too long,” Virginia said irritably.

Sabrina saw a costume, white toga, black wig, golden mask and serpent bracelet, laid out on the bed and whistled in admiration. “Is that what you're wearing tonight, Virginia?”

Virginia preened. “I can't wait to put it on.”

“It's revealing who a person decides to impersonate, isn't it?” Gary sat back on his heels.

Virginia ignored her husband. “I've always been fascinated by Cleopatra. What a woman!”

Sabrina smiled at Gary. “Are you going as Marc Antony?”

He made a sound halfway between a horrified snort and a laugh and indicated the monk's long robe and cowl on the bed next to the Cleopatra costume.

“I asked him to, but he wouldn't. Gary, the desk?” Virginia continued down the hall.

Near the end of the hall, Virginia poked her head into another open door. “Mother Elizabeth, Sabrina is here to see you.”

Virginia left and Sabrina faced Elizabeth, who was laboring to make the bed by herself.

“Well, don't just stand there. Help me!” Elizabeth snapped. Sabrina went to the other side of the bed and helped tuck the top sheet under the mattress.

“Can't keep good help around here,” Elizabeth said, smoothing her hand over the sheet. She had changed from the turquoise dress she wore to the funeral, but the gauzy mauve concoction she wore didn't look any more appropriate for making a bed. “The girl walked out just because I told her she was more than a few peas short of a casserole and that she couldn't empty a trash can without instructions on the side. It's true! She just didn't think. But she got all huffy-puffy and walked out, so now I have to do it all myself.”

They pulled the comforter up, and Elizabeth arranged the pillow shams until she was satisfied. “So what did you want?” She stood up and smoothed her frizzy hair away from her face.

“I wanted to ask you about these.” Sabrina pawed into her copious handbag and pulled out the crayon pictures she'd found under the hurricane hatch.

Elizabeth's eyes flickered as she glanced over the horrific pictures, but no expression dared to pass over her face. She handed the pictures back to Sabrina.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Elizabeth snapped. “Why are you showing me those?” She turned her back on Sabrina to arrange the knickknacks on the dresser top.

“I thought you might have seen them before.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I don't know where you got those horrible pictures, but I've never seen them before.”

“Not even twenty-five years ago?”

“I said I never saw them!”

Without comment, Sabrina put the pictures back in her bag. She knew in her heart that old Lora would have shared those pictures with the child's parents, seeking to help. Both Nettie and Elizabeth claimed they had never seen the pictures. Did that mean their respective children didn't draw the pictures? And did the pictures really have something to do with Rolo's murder, as she strongly suspected?

“Let's talk about Brad, then.”

“What about him?” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “It was a boyish prank. You can't hold a man responsible for something he did when he was a boy.”

Sabrina nodded, as if in agreement. A boyish prank, stealing silver and setting an unconscious woman on fire? “I'm really surprised Brad would set Rolo up, considering how close they were.”

Elizabeth's lips thinned as she turned and started rearranging the knickknacks on the dresser, slamming them down with unnecessary force.