A man who appeared to be about a hundred years old was slowly making his way up the road on an adult tricycle. “Need help?” he croaked, pulling to a stop beside me. I told him that I was fine. “Okay,” he said as he rode on. “Just mind the snakes.”

  Snakes? I was up like a shot. I checked myself out. I had a long scratch on my leg from where the bike pedal had scraped it, but other than being covered with dust and having some sand in my mouth, nose and ears, I was okay. Well, maybe “okay” was too strong a word. I was alive. More or less.

  I looked at my watch. We had been riding for about 15 minutes, so it should only take me that long to get back. 45 minutes later, I finally maneuvered the bike up the driveway of Aunt Sam's. I started to take the bike back to the shed, but I was barely halfway there when I noticed a hammock strung between two palm trees in the yard and I collapsed into it. I was still lying there about a half hour later when I saw Nick approaching.

  “Good Lord, you look awful,” he said.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I replied. “What are you doing here?”

  “We caught a lot of nice red snapper today and I brought some to give to Dodie for tonight's dinner, but seriously, are you okay?”

  “Yes, rumors of my death are partially exaggerated.”

  “What happened to you? You look wiped out, you're covered with dirt and you have a big scratch on your leg.”

  “I was bike riding with Vanessa and she kicked my bike over on purpose.”

  “Did you hit your head? There's something red in your hair.”

  “That's just red nail polish. I was at the swimming pool with Dawn and she wanted to get my attention. In her mind, the best way to do that was to put her foot on my head and push it under water. It was pretty effective. She certainly had my undivided attention after that.”

  “Wait a minute,” Nick said. “Why are you hanging around with Vanessa and Dawn? I thought you didn't like them.”

  “Well, I have to help find out who killed Brent so that Mayor Croaker doesn't fire Lois Landon and give her nephew the job and Aunt Sam isn't getting any younger and she might lose her business if-”

  “Whoa! Hold on! This sounds like a really long story. Scoot over.”

  “What?”

  “I said scoot over. This is a double wide hammock and I've been standing on the fishing boat for hours so I'm not going to stand here while you tell me how you got into what sounds like a godawful mess.”

  I gave a loud sigh so he'd know that I was irritated with him, but I moved over. He lay down beside me and asked, “Now how is this supposed to work? What exactly are you trying to do and who asked you to do it?”

  “Aunt Sam is trying to help the sheriff and I'm trying to help Aunt Sam, I guess. She just wants me to talk casually with some of the guests and see if I can get any useful information or catch them lying about something, that sort of thing.”

  “And did it occur to either of you that you might be putting yourself in danger if they realized what you were doing? There's a good chance that one of them is a murderer, so if they thought they had talked too much in front of you what's to stop them from doing you in?”

  “How could they do that? Wouldn't it be too obvious?”

  “Well, what if you happened to hit your head on a rock when Vanessa knocked you off your bike and you bled to death at the side of the road? Or what if you hit your head on the side of the pool and got knocked out when Dawn pushed your head under the water and you drowned? Both of those situations would look like accidents, but you'd still be dead.” It was about 90 degrees out but I shivered. Nick put his arm around me. “I'm not trying to scare you,” he said.

  “Well, for someone who's not trying you're doing a pretty good job.”

  “So you'll stop trying to do this detective thing and leave it to the sheriff to find the murderer?”

  “I can't do that. I promised Aunt Sam that I'd help. I mean, what if Sheriff Landon doesn't solve the murder? The bed and breakfast's reputation would be ruined. Aunt Sam could lose the business. She might even end up on the streets or-”

  “Okay, okay,” Nick sighed. “I get it. You're in this for the long haul. We'll just have to figure a way to keep you safe then. For starters, you had better not talk to any more of these misfits until someone can be there with you.”

  “Like who?”

  “Like me, of course.”

  “But don't you have your own work to do?”

  “Yes, but let me think a minute.” He yawned which made me yawn. “I'll just figure out our schedule for the next few ---”

  That was the last thing I remembered before I fell asleep. I was woken some time later by the sounds of talking and giggling. I opened my eyes and saw Aunt Sam, Dodie, and Vera Hayes, the elderly woman whom I had met at Becky's Bagels. They were standing on the porch smiling and laughing and looking at Nick and me. Vera was taking pictures with her phone and I could hear them saying things like, “What a cute couple,” “Do I hear wedding bells?” and “beach babies”.

  I didn't know what to say, but Nick did. “Well, I was just dreaming that I was in a forest but instead of trees there were gorgeous women, and my dream just came true!” He got up from the hammock and said, “I'd love to stay and chat, ladies, but I have an appointment. Gotta bounce!” He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving me to deal with the mob. The big coward!

  Aunt Sam had pity on me and before I could say anything, she said, “Well, dear, you'll probably want to go clean yourself up. Dodie is about to fix dinner and you won't want to be late. We're having fresh grilled red snapper fillets, zucchini coleslaw and baked beans. Vera brought over her famous chocolate peanut butter fudge because we usually have our weekly book club meeting here, but of course we'll have to skip this week.”

  “It's too bad,” Vera said, shaking her head sadly. “We were all looking forward to discussing this week's book: Funny, Jonas, But You Don't Look Dead by Mary McMullen. I guess it wouldn't be quite appropriate under the circumstances. Maybe Lois will have this murder solved by next week and we can get together then. Such a horrible thing about Brent Maxwell. I heard he was killed by a single shot from a high powered rifle. I'm concerned that we may have a sniper on the island.”

  “But that ain't---” Dodie started to say before Aunt Sam interrupted. “Not to worry, Vera, Lois told me that she's already ruled out snipers. Why don't I give you some of Dodie's special tea to take home with you? I think you'll love it,” she said as she led Vera toward the house.

  I took advantage of the situation to sprint on aching legs over to the RV. The first thing I did when I got there was to call Nick.

  “What?” he answered.

  “I just wanted to thank you for rushing off and leaving me with the hen party. Very gallant of you, Sir Lancelot.”

  “I've always seen myself as more of a Sir Galahad. Besides, I told you I had an appointment.”

  Just then I heard someone in the background asking, “Table for one, sir?”

  “Your appointment just happens to be in a restaurant?”

  “As a matter of fact, it is,” Nick said. “I have an appointment with a plate of smoke-roasted oysters topped with chorizo, spinach and gruyere cheese along with a lobster roll and steak fries. Being a sensitive person, I thought it best not to intrude on that little gathering because I knew you'd all want to do your girl talk in private.”

  “Well, I hope you don't get hungry if I'm in the middle of fighting for my life with the murderer.”

  “No worries. I would simply use my extensive array of martial arts skills to take down your assailant and then I would run out for a quick snack. I've always been good at multitasking.”

  “You're a trained martial artist?”

  “No, not really. So try to avoid any life-or-death struggles with murderers, okay?”

  “I'll see what I can do,” I sighed. “Enjoy your food.”

  “Back at you,” Nick said and hung up.

  I got cleaned up, changed my clothes, and went over to the house. My legs felt a little better. Maybe I wasn't hobbled for life after all. Dodie was in the kitchen fixing dinner and told me that Aunt Sam wanted to talk with me in her office. I went up the kitchen stairs to Aunt Sam's office on the second floor. She was at her desk staring at her computer screen. “My bank keeps telling me that I have $12.46 more than I think I should have and I can't figure it out,” she said as she shut off the computer. “As long as they think I have more than I actually have I guess I shouldn't complain. Now, what did you find out from Vanessa?”

  “Not much,” I said. “First she tried to imply that Dawn might be the murderer, then she sort of implied that it could be Charlie, then finally out and out said that it was probably me.”

  “You?”

  “Yes, she said that I killed him when I found out that he was going to marry Dawn and not me after I had a one-night stand with him.”

  “Good Lord, she should be the one writing fiction. Did she say anything else?”

  “Well, Vanessa didn't seem to be too concerned that Brent would get rid of her. She claims she's managing his money, his career, and just about every other aspect of his life. She makes it sound like his whole world fall apart without her.”

  “There might be more truth than poetry to that,” Aunt Sam said. “Still, that doesn't mean that Brent was smart enough to know it. He seemed to be going through a post-midlife crisis and wanted to start a new phase of his life with Dawn. He wasn't very happy and like a lot of people, he probably blamed everybody but himself. Could you determine if Vanessa and Charlie really were having a relationship?”

  “It seems so, although she wasn't hesitant to throw him under the bus when it came to a question of whether he had anything to do with the murder. She denied being his accomplice, but broadly implied that Charlie wasn't above killing Brent by himself.”

  “That sounds like Vanessa,” said Aunt Sam. “I'll call Lois and pass on what you've found out so far. Just between you and me, I had a little snoop in Dawn's room while she was down at the pool. Do you know that she left her very expensive engagement ring lying by the wash bowl in the bathroom? I'm not sure if that's an indication of how much she valued her upcoming marriage or just Dawn being her usual careless self.”

  “I don't suppose she left a signed confession next to it?”

  “No such luck. I didn't find anything that would help us, unless you consider her having a drawer full of energy drinks suspicious. She's obsessed with staying thin, but if that was a crime you could arrest half the vacationers down here. Speaking of being obsessed, your mother called me this afternoon because she wants you to fly back to Ohio immediately for a job opening at a local high school.”

  “Yes, she called me earlier and told me about that and she also thought I might be interested in knowing that Walter might be coming back to town for a visit,” I said. “I wasn't interested in either offer.”

  “Poor Lizzie. I love her to pieces, but she can be so oblivious sometimes. Maybe one of these days she'll realize that you're a grown-up. Well, after dinner you might see if you can locate Charlie. He usually goes down to one of the bars in the evening but maybe you can catch him before he leaves. “

  As it turned out I didn't have to catch Charlie; he caught me. I was crossing the driveway on my way back to the RV after dinner when Charlie came around from the back of the house and called, “Hey there, Teri! Hows about you join me on the front porch for a little aperitif? We can watch the sunset together.”

  “Sure,” I said. “You go ahead and I'll bring the drinks.”

  “Very gracious of you,” he said with a dramatic bow. “I am in your debt, milady.”

  I watched him head for the front porch, wobbling a little with each step. Charlie had clearly started the evening festivities without me.

  I went into the kitchen and asked Dodie to make some coffee for Charlie and me. I let her know that he was no doubt expecting something a lot stronger than that, but I wanted to keep him sober long enough to answer a few questions.

  “I just made some after dinner coffee,” Dodie said. “Hot milk, cocoa powder, cinnamon and vanilla mixed in with the coffee --- that should be enough caffeine to keep him awake for a while.”

  When I got to the porch and Charlie saw the coffee he said, “This isn't quite what I had in mind, but that's okay. I can have a nightcap later. I thought it might be nice if you and I had a chat, got to know each other better, that sort of thing.”

  “That would be nice,” I said. “I'm so sorry for what you've been through. Brent's murder must have been a terrible shock to you.”

  “Yes it was, and from what I hear, you and your aunt have been trying to help the sheriff solve the murder. I thought perhaps I could lend a hand.”

  “How did you hear about that?”

  “Oh, you know how it is. News travels fast on a small island like this one.”

  I assumed that this particular news traveled fast because it came directly from Vanessa. She had probably warned Charlie so that they could get their stories straight. Charlie continued on without waiting for me to ask him anything.

  “Now I suppose the first thing you want to know, of course, is if I murdered Brent. The answer to that is no; Brent and I met as college roommates and we developed a deep friendship which has lasted ever since. We were more like brothers than friends; just like the Wright brothers, or Romulus and Remus. I'm the last person on earth who would ever want to harm Brent.” He brushed away a non-existent tear.

  Actually that wasn't going to be my first question, but I decided to go with it anyway. “But Brent seemed to think that you were embezzling from him. I happened to overhear him talking with you in the library the night of the dinner party.”

  “Now see, that's what happens when people eavesdrop; they don't always get the whole picture. That was just a misunderstanding. Brent was a fine writer, the best since Ian Fleming and you can quote me on that! But he didn't know the first thing about the law; artsy types are like that, only using the left side of their brain... or is that the right side of their brain? Whichever side it is that doesn't have any business sense, that's the side Brent was using.

  “Anyway, there wasn't anything funny going on. Brent had just noticed a couple of invoices that he thought were too high and he decided I must be stealing from him. That's Brent for you, always jumping to conclusions! He just didn't understand all the things that I have to do as his lawyer! Negotiating his book deals, getting after the publisher to pay him his royalties; hell, helping Vanessa work out the deal for the Dirk Nightshade movie has been practically a full time job! Not to mention all the personal matters I've had to take care of for him,” Charlie added with a wink.

  “Personal matters? What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, I shouldn't really be telling you about this, lawyer/client confidentiality and all that, but I suppose I can make an exception, seeing as how he's been murdered and everything. You see, I've been getting Brent out of trouble for years. There have been numerous DUI's, bar fights, particularly when when he was younger, not to mention all the domestic violence incidents when he was still married to Kristi!”

  I was shocked. “Brent was beating Kristi?”

  Charlie laughed. “Hell no! Kristi was beating him up! I had to practically stand on my head to keep her out of jail. Brent didn't want her locked up and it wouldn't have done his reputation any good either. Can you imagine what would have happened if word got out that the creator of Dirk Nightshade, the manliest spy in print, was getting slapped around by his own wife? That wouldn't have been good for sales. If you're looking for who's most likely to have killed Brent you don't have to look any further than Kristi. I thought she might actually kill him during a couple of those incidents when they were married. That woman turns into a real hellion when she gets mad. You saw how she was at the party! If you're serious about trying to solve this thing you ought to talk to her.”

  “But Kristi has an alibi. She was arguing with Vanessa at the time when Brent was murdered,” I said.

  “Well, she could have had an accomplice or something.”

  “An accomplice? Like who?”

  “Like, well, uh, Gavin for instance.”

  “Why would Kristi conspire with Gavin to murder Brent? And do you think Gavin would murder his own father?”

  “Who knows? Maybe those two have got something going on with each other,” Charlie said, impatiently. “Look, I can't do all the detective work for you. Kristi's up in her room right now. You could probably catch her if you hurry.” He got up and headed for the door. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get myself a real drink.”

  “I thought you wanted to watch the sunset,” I said.

  “It'll probably set without me. Let me know if it doesn't.” And with that Charlie was gone.

  I stayed there watching the sunset, which was beautiful, finishing my coffee, which was delicious, and going over what Charlie told me about Kristi, which was puzzling. He was definitely trying to throw suspicion on Kristi which was probably Vanessa's idea. I wondered about the relationship between Kristi and Gavin. I just couldn't picture Gavin and Kristi as lovers, but it was Kristi who helped Gavin to his room on the night of the party.

  What if Gavin had only pretended to be drunk? He could have been wide awake and sober, waiting in his room until Brent came up and was alone in his own room. Maybe Kristi was just creating a distraction by arguing with Vanessa. Gavin's room is next to Brent's, so it would have been easy for him to slip into Brent's room, murder him, and then return to his own room without being seen. He could have done the whole thing in less than a minute. And yet, if Kristi and Gavin weren't lovers, what would be their motivation to kill Brent? Was it revenge for his cutting them out of his will or something else, something I hadn't uncovered yet?