“Well, there's only one way to find out,” I thought, as I got up and hobbled up the stairs on my still-sore legs towards Kristi's room.

  When I reached Kristi's room, her door was slightly ajar and I could see her sitting at a desk typing on on her laptop. I stood in the doorway debating how to approach her. Should I be casual? “Oh hello, I was just walking by and I noticed...” Noticed what? Why was I walking by her room in the first place? Okay, scratch casual. Maybe a direct approach would be better. Walk in there like a real detective and put her on the spot with hard questions. If I could intimidate her a little, she might slip up and give me a clue that could crack this case. Me intimidate Kristi? Probably not. Okay, that was dumb. Back to square one. Maybe if I-

  “Are you lost, or just doing the world's worst job of spying on me?” Kristi said without looking up from her work, “Come in if you're going to.” So much for planning. As I pushed the door open and stepped inside Kristi said, “I'm quite well aware that you and your Aunt are playing detective and that you're here to interrogate me like a big tough gumshoe. You might as well get on with it so I can get this work done before I go to bed.”

  I noticed that she had an old fashioned tape recorder on her desk similar to the one that we had found in Brent's room.

  “You use a tape recorder, too?” I asked.

  She turned and looked at me. “How else am I supposed to turn Brent's rambling excuse for dictation into a coherent book? A sane person would simply email me, but, oh noooo, I have to use this fossil from the 80's because the famous Brent Maxwell was afraid that the CIA, KGB or the Knights of Columbus would steal his precious ideas.”

  “It doesn't sound as if you and Brent had the friendliest relationship.”

  “Brent was an arrogant, obnoxious, drunken, womanizing blowhard that annoyed the hell out of me and anyone else within the sound of his voice, but I didn't kill him. If I killed everyone who annoyed the hell out of me, the DMV would look like a slaughter house.”

  “I understand that,” I replied, “but I talked to Dawn today and she apparently had convinced Brent to fire you.”

  “So precious little Dawn thought it would be easy to replace me, did she?” Kristi sneered. “Why don't you give a listen to this!” She pushed the on button on the tape recorder and I heard Brent's voice: “So here's what Dick says and he really is a dick if you know what I mean, Krissie, Dick says to that gal, what's her name Bonnie or something, Come here, babe, I got something I want to show you, no I mean I got something I want to tell you about our old enema, oops, I mean enemy, unless you want to leave that enema thing in because it's funny as hell. Did I ever tell you that I went to a nature doctor who gave me a coffee enema? It was the damnedest thing. A waste of good coffee. Anyhow Dave says to Barbie that they need to go to what's that place in the south of Spain or France or something, I think, it's like a chapeau on a river, oh crap, what the hell, I think I just pissed my pants. Let's see, nope false alarm, stupid glass just tipped over. I remembered, it's called the Riviera, better write that down before you forget it and -” Kristi reached over and turned off the tape recorder. “Still think I'm that easy to replace? Truth be told, I am Brent Maxwell. These days, all he ever contributes is his name.”

  “How long has it been like this?” I asked.

  “Years. Decades, maybe. I haven't kept track. He was never much of a writer to begin with, and the more he drank, the worse he got. After a while, I quit sending the drafts back to him for rewrites and started writing them myself. It was easier.”

  “But don't you resent the fact that you do all the work and he got all the glory?”

  “Is this your amateurish way of trying to get me to say I murdered Brent because I was upset that he took all the praise for the Dirk Nightshade books? Well, little Miss Sherlock, if you can find one critic who's ever praised Brent for his silly spy books, I'd like to meet him. The books are drivel and I'm not interested in having my name associated with them. When I retire I'll write the kind of books I'd like to write, but for now this is a good job that pays very well. I have no motivation to knock off Brent Maxwell.”

  “What about the fact that he changed his will and left everything to Dawn?”

  “Oh please, that doesn't mean a thing!” Kristi snorted. “Brent has changed his will at least a dozen times since I've known him. Charlie has a 'Brent Maxwell Will Form' on his computer so that he can just change the names in Brent's latest will when he decides he wants a new one. Even if this latest will did hold up in court, Dawn would find out soon enough that she couldn't do without Vanessa or me. We've been through this will-changing thing before and we're still here.” She paused and then added, “Besides, you know that I have an air-tight alibi for the time that Brent was killed. I was in the library, putting that harpy Vanessa in her place when it happened.”

  “Yes, but you could have had an accomplice,” I pointed out.

  “An accomplice? Like who?”

  “Well, Gavin, for example.”

  “You are so ridiculous,” Kristi said, rolling her eyes. “Why would I conspire with Gavin, of all people?”

  “But Charlie suggested that you and Gavin might be lovers.”

  “And you believed that drunken pervert?”

  “Well, you did help him to his room that night. You two might be more than just friends.”

  “Look, there's a difference between friendship and pity; I was nice to Gavin because I felt sorry for him. I had a lousy father, so I sympathize with people who have crappy parents and Brent was as crappy as they come. I mean, what kind of father steals his own son's girlfriend?”

  I was stunned. “Dawn was dating Gavin before she got with Brent?”

  “You didn't know that? Not much of a detective, are you? Oh yes, they were quite an item. Gavin was head over heels in love with her and we all thought Dawn felt the same. Everyone assumed they were headed for the altar until Brent swooped in with his charm and money, (emphasis on the money) and swept the little golddigger right off her feet. Sweeping women off their feet seems to have been Brent's only real talent.”

  “Gavin must have taken that badly.”

  “Yes, if you call announcing you're going to murder your own father 'taking it badly'.”

  “Are you saying that Gavin actually threatened to kill Brent?”

  “Yes, and he might have brought it off if Vanessa and I hadn't managed to talk some sense into him. Or maybe we only thought we had convinced him not to do it.”

  My head was spinning. Was she telling the truth or was she just trying to convince me that Gavin had a better motive to kill Brent than she did? Having your father propose marriage to your girlfriend was a pretty darn good motive at that!

  As I was mulling this information Kristi said, “Do you know how I come up with all the different characters in the books?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “It's easy. I model them on real people. For example, I've decided to model a character for his new book on you.”

  I was startled. “On me?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I don't have a name for her, but I was thinking of something like Tearie McSlut since she's a cheap hooker. She gets killed on page four when her pimp pushes her into a wood chipper in a quiet cul-de-sac in the suburbs. I'll see that you get a copy. Now, if you don't mind, I have to get back to my work.”

  It didn't seem likely that I would get much more out of Kristi, and it also seemed unlikely that I could think up a snappy comeback to put her in her place, so I went back downstairs to see Aunt Sam. I found her in the library with Dr. Brad, setting up a game board on the coffee table.

  “Ah, Dr. Watson checking in with Sherlock Holmes, I see,” Brad said. “You're welcome to join us in our weekly game of Scrabble after you give your Aunt the latest news about her murderous lodgers.”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I'm not great at board games or spelling and I have a date with a hot shower and some Tiger Balm.”

  “Tiger Balm? Don't waste your money on that commercial stuff! I make my own special muscle rub and I'll send some over to you!”

  I remembered Brad's special wine and I almost shuddered. “Well, I already have the Tiger Balm so that will do for tonight, but I appreciate the offer,” I said.

  “So what did you learn from Kristi?” Aunt Sam asked.

  “She told me that Gavin had been in love with Dawn before Brent somehow stole her heart away. Apparently things had been really serious between Dawn and Gavin. Like 'wedding bells' serious. Then Brent stepped in and Dawn stepped out. As you can guess, Gavin didn't take it very well. Kristi said that he threatened to kill Brent and might have done it too, if she and Vanessa hadn't calmed him down.”

  “Gavin and Dawn! I'd never have guessed!” Brad exclaimed.

  “Yes, that is a surprise!” Aunt Sam agreed. “Although I suppose it does explain a few things.”

  “What things?” I asked.

  “Well, Gavin has never been terribly personable, but he's been in a more unpleasant mood than usual this visit. It would also explain his outburst at the party. Bad enough that your father steals your girlfriend, but then proposing to her right in front of you? That must have been awful.”

  “I wonder if Brent knew how Gavin felt about Dawn?” I said. “Brent was so self-centered that he may have been unaware of how close they were.”

  Dr. Brad snorted. Well, at least I think it was a snort or maybe he just had sinus problems, but he said, “Brent never gave a damn about Gavin during his entire life! I've met plenty of men like Brent Maxwell in my life, and I can tell you they don't hesitate to go after anything or anyone they want, no matter who it hurts. And don't forget, Dawn didn't mind hurting Gavin as soon as she saw Brent's bank balance! I've met a few women like her too.”

  “I'll bet you have,” Aunt Sam said, smiling. “Did you learn anything else, Teri?”

  “Just that Kristi hates me.”

  “Don't be silly, dear. I'm sure Kristi doesn't have anything against you personally.”

  “And if you believe that,” Dr. Brad grunted, “then I'm the Easter Bunny. Now, if you should change your mind about playing a game of Scrabble with us, I feel it's my duty to warn you that your Aunt cheats.”

  “I cheat?! How many five syllable names of so-called new pharmaceutical drugs have you used?” Aunt Sam said.

  “Probably the same number of words in a foreign language that you claim mean 'dental floss'. Funny how most of them have so many Q's, X's, and Z's in them, isn't it?”

  “Well, ours isn't the only country where people care about their oral health.”

  This seemed a good time for me to make an exit. “Thanks for the offer, but I'll leave you to it,” I said, as I headed out the door. “See you in the morning.”

  It was times like this that I was thankful that I had chosen to stay in the RV. I actually make good decisions sometimes. Now all I had to do was question the unspeakable Gavin tomorrow and my part would be over in this ridiculous sleuthing thing. I didn't think he'd have much to say to me, so that shouldn't take too long and then I'd be done with all this. Or so I thought.

  Chapter 7

  I got up early the next morning and put on a handkerchief hem tunic tank in a pink floral print and a pair of white Bermuda shorts. I pulled out a new pair of white strappy sandals that had a special cushioned “comfort” sole and a waterproof foot-bed in case they got wet. They seemed pricey but the lady at the shoe store said that you can never pay too much for comfort. I hoped she was right. Summer isn't that long in Ohio and I had never spent $49.95 on a pair of sandals before. My body was still achy from yesterday's bike ride but at least my feet would be comfortable.

  When I went over to the B & B Dodie was in the kitchen cutting some thick slices from a fresh loaf of country bread. “Hi, Teri,” she said. “I'm just about to make a grilled ham and cheese sandwich for Brody before I start on breakfast for the guests. Would you like the same?”

  “Sounds great,” I said. “What can I do to help?”

  “Well, I'll take care of the sandwiches, so why don't you get the deviled eggs, pickles, and sliced star fruit out of the fridge? Oh, and over on the counter there's a big bowl of homemade potato chips that you can put on the table. I use garlic and taco seasoning on them so I hope they're not too spicy for you.”

  It sounded like a lot of food for breakfast, but I would probably need all the energy I could get if I was going to have to face Gavin, King of the Jerks later on. I hoped I would be able to get some useful information out of him. I didn't feel like I had been very helpful to the investigation so far, but maybe Aunt Sam would be able to make some sense of this whole mess and catch the murderer. Then maybe Brent Maxwell's kids, cats, sacks and wives would all go away and I could forget this whole mess. Investigating a murder wasn't my idea of a fun vacation activity.

  My thoughts were interrupted when Brody came into the kitchen with an large ice chest. “Hey Dodie! Nick and me caught a whole lot more shrimp than we usually do, so we saved some out for ya,” he said, dropping the ice chest on the floor with a resounding thud. “Made a handy profit from the restaurants too, so these are on the house.”

  “Brody!” Dodie exclaimed, “What are you thinkin'? I spent half the mornin' mopping the kitchen and that old chest of yours is leakin' fish oil all over my nice clean floor!

  “Oh relax,” Brody said, hoisting the ice chest onto the table, inches from my plate, “ It ain't leakin'. It's just some condensation on the outside. Now come take a look at these beauties.”

  He threw the lid open and a wave of raw fish odor hit me in the face like a boxing glove.

  “That's quite a mess of shrimp,” said Dodie, as she looked into the ice chest. “I was just tryin' to think of what to have for dinner tonight, and these just might do the trick. I shredded some fresh coconut this mornin' so I can do coconut butterfly shrimp. I might even have enough left to make cheesy grits with shrimp and bacon for breakfast tomorrow.”

  I took a bite of my grilled ham and cheese sandwich, but it tasted like fish. I tried one of the deviled eggs. It also tasted like fish. The star fruit. Fish. Okay, I guess I'm done with breakfast.

  “Have you seen Gavin, Dodie?” I asked, getting up from the table. “Aunt Sam wants me to ask him a few questions.”

  “I think he's gone out,” Dodie replied, looking up from the ice chest. “At least, he wasn't in his room when I went upstairs a little while ago. Don't know where he went, though.”

  Terrific. Not only do I have to question the most unpleasant person on the planet, I have to track him down first. With my luck, he would probably be running a marathon.

  “Oh, Gavin ain't gone far,” Brody chuckled. “I seen him settin' in a chair on the front porch when I got here. He looked like somethin' that's been washed up on the beach. Guess he ain't much of a mornin' person, huh?”

  I went out the kitchen door and walked around to the front of the house. I peeked around the corner and saw Gavin slumped in a porch chair. He hadn't shaved, his hair was a rat's nest and his skin held a pale greenish hue. Looks like somebody had closed down a few bars last night. He was wearing sunglasses so I wasn't sure if he was awake or not. Actually, I couldn't even tell if he was alive.

  I was cautiously making my way up the porch steps when his phone rang. The ringtone was a rock ballad from some 80s hair metal band whose name I couldn't remember, but in the morning silence it sounded like a school fire alarm. I scurried around the corner as Gavin groaned and stirred in his chair. He grimaced as the ringtone continued to blare and fumbled in his pocket. After an uncomfortably long time and several profanities, he managed to get his phone out and up to his ear.

  “Yeah?” he growled. Whoever was calling had a profound effect on Gavin. He suddenly sat up straight in his chair like a soldier called to attention. “Oh, hi,” he said, his voice far more respectful than it had been seconds ago. “I was wondering when you were gonna call... Yeah, I can do that... When and where?... Sure, I know the place...”

  Suddenly, Gavin looked to his left and right. I quickly stepped back behind the corner of the house, hoping he hadn't seen me. There was silence for a minute. The Gavin's voice resumed, a little quieter. “Yeah, I can get away. No, there's nobody around. I can be there in about an hour, okay? Just sit tight.”

  I heard Gavin's phone beep as he hung up. I stood with my back to the wall, hoping Gavin couldn't hear the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I was on to something big! Gavin had just arranged a secret meeting with some mysterious person on the island. Was he involved in some kind of illegal business that nobody knew about, like drug trafficking? Had Brent found out about his son's criminal activities and had to be silenced? Or was Gavin meeting with his accomplice to hide some damning piece of evidence that would link them to his father's murder? I knew one thing: if I could follow Gavin to his secret rendezvous, I might just get the break I needed to solve Brent Maxwell's murder!

  I slowly looked around the corner. Gavin had left the porch and was approaching Brody, who was loading his ice chest onto his truck. “Hey, Brody,” he said, “can you give me a lift to the Doldrums?”

  “Sure,” Brody replied, “I'm heading out that way. Gotta make a couple stops first, but I can drop you off there.”

  Gavin took a wad of bills out of his pocket. He peeled off a twenty and held it out to Brody. “How about you drop me off at the Doldrums first and make your stops later?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Brody said, ignoring the twenty and taking the wad of bills out of Gavin's other hand. “Hop in!”

  Gavin climbed into the passenger side, muttering to himself.

  My heart sank as I watched Brody's truck rumble down the driveway and turn onto the street. My first big break in the case and all I could do was watch it drive away! I needed to follow them and find out who Gavin was meeting. But how? I didn't have a car and I doubted that Admiral Archibald's Falls had an Uber service.

  Of course, there was the bicycle. I think I actually heard my knees groan at the thought of getting on a bike again. I scratched that idea and hurried out to the road. Maybe I could hitch a ride with someone going into town. I looked both ways but the only car on the road was Brody's truck, getting smaller in the distance every second. So much for that idea.