“What are we going to do?” I asked as I followed her up the stairs.

  “We need to make sure that he doesn't do something foolish.”

  I was startled. “You mean you're afraid that he might harm himself?”

  “No, I'm afraid he might harm my bottom line. I don't intend to refund any of his money for the unused rooms if he has a temper tantrum and sends the rest of the group home!”

  “Is that likely?”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but I'd like to distract him before he makes any rash decisions,” Aunt Sam said. “Help me butter him up if you can.”

  We found the door to Brent's room partly ajar and I could see him sitting at a large oak desk, gently polishing the Sneaky with a towel.

  Aunt Sam knocked on the door frame as she stepped into the room and said, “Excuse me, Brent, but would you mind very much if Teri could look at your Sneaky? She's never had the opportunity to see anything like it before.”

  Brent's eyes lit up. “I'll do much better than that!” he said. “I'll pose with the Sneaky so you can take some pictures to show your friends back home. They'll be quite impressed!”

  “That will be just great,” I lied as I took out my phone.

  “I still recall everything about the show where I received this honor; an exciting night, very exciting,” Brent said. “Literary critics often compare my work with that of Ian Fleming, but personally I don't think there's any comparison between the wimpy, martini drinking James Bond and a real man's man like Dirk Nightshade. Fleming didn't really know anything about the dark world of espionage, so how could he create a virile, macho hero like Dirk Nightshade? I'll let you in on something that I've never told anyone before; I model Dirk Nightshade on myself. That's how I know what he's thinking and how he'll react in life-threatening situations. It's the real secret to my success.”

  After posing for a few photos, Brent sat down at the desk again and took a big old tape recorder that looked straight out of the 1980's out of a drawer, along with a box of tapes.

  “Wow, I haven't seen something like that in ages!” I said.

  “Yes, the Sneaky is great, but this where the real gold is!” Brent said, patting the tape recorder smugly. “I've always worked the same way ever since I started over 30 years ago. Kristi keeps nagging me to get a computer, but I don't believe in changing my winning formula. Besides, if I did that, every punk hacker in the world would be trying to steal my valuable ideas! No, I'm a creature of habit and that's how I intend to stay; you see, every night before I go to bed I plan my schedule for the day and record it all on tape. I get up bright and early at 5 AM the next morning to meditate. That's when all my best ideas come to me, so that time is sacred and I never allow any interruptions. After that, I exercise before breakfast (you've got to take care of the body as well as the mind) and Vanessa gets the tape and tells everyone what I expect them to do. It's a very efficient routine and it's made me the writer I am today!”

  “That's fascinating,” I said. I tried to come up with something else to say about his books which I had never read. “Uh, what about Brigitte, the French policewoman? Did you model her on someone?”

  “Oh, yes, Brigitte. Now that's a very interesting story, but a little long to go into right now. How about you come up to my room for a nightcap after the dinner party and I'll be happy to tell you all about her?”

  “Dinner party?” asked Aunt Sam.

  “Yes,” Brent replied. “Didn't I mention that I invited a few friends over for dinner tonight? I thought it would be nice to make a party of it for my first night back on the island.”

  “How many friends?”

  “I'm not sure. Let's see, there's Mayor Croaker, and Police Chief Landon and her husband, and Harlan Ringo the realtor; he's always fun at a party, right? Oh, and what's the name of that doctor? Dr. Hendrix! Yes, I don't know if he's a good doctor but he's incredibly clever when it comes to wine making, so he's a must! There are maybe a half dozen others, too, but I forget all the names now...”

  “And what time did you tell everyone to be here for this dinner party?” Aunt Sam inquired.

  “I thought eight would be a good time,” Brent replied. “Oh, and tell Dodie that we'll want some of that great sangria she made for our going away party last year. That'll be a real hit with my guests.”

  Once we were out in the hallway Aunt Sam let out an impressive stream of cuss words, some of which I'd never heard before. “The gall of that creature to order up a dinner party for a dozen people without giving me any notice!” she fumed. “It was all I could do to keep from strangling him with my bare hands!”

  “What can I do to help?” I asked. “I mean with the dinner party; you can handle the strangling part yourself.”

  “Well, the first thing is to bar the doors so Dodie can't escape,” Aunt Sam said. “I'll have to give her a massive bonus if she can bring this thing off. Let's go down and break the news. Be prepared to duck.”

  We returned down the hall toward the stairs. The doors to Vanessa and Kristi's rooms, which were directly across from each other, both stood open and the two women were calling insults back and forth.

  “Of course I don't have your makeup case! What would I want your streetwalker makeup for?”

  “Who else would have taken it? You're the only kleptomaniac here!”

  Charles' door was shut and I could hear the clink of a bottle and glass inside, and Charles trying to hum a tune but keep losing it part way through and starting over. Gavin's door was shut too, but he had left his luggage sitting outside his door, blocking most of the hallway.

  “Looks like everyone's settling in nicely,” Aunt Sam said as we went downstairs.

  When we reached the kitchen Dodie was sitting at the table chatting with Brody, who had stopped to drink a glass of iced tea before taking the last of the luggage upstairs.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Dodie,” Aunt Sam said, “but, how hard would it be to throw something together for a dinner party of 12 by eight o'clock tonight?”

  “I hope you're jokin',” Dodie replied, “but if you're serious you'd better have a helicopter to bring in a catering service from the mainland because I sure couldn't do it.”

  “And yet, I'm not joking. Is there any way we could bring this off? Brent wants some of your famous sangria so maybe if we get them drunk they'd settle for a lot of scrambled eggs and toast.”

  “Drunk or not I don't think we can get by with that. Oh, what are we gonna do?”

  “Hey, I know somethin' you can make fast,” said Brody. “How about a beach boil? Toss everythin' in one pot and it'll boil up in about an hour or so.”

  “Now that's a great idea, Brody!” Aunt Sam said.

  “Oh yes, it'll boil up in an hour, but how long is it goin' to take to get everything ready to boil?” Dodie said. “Plus I still have to chop all that fruit for the sangria!”

  “I'd be glad to help,” I said. “I can't cook very well but I can chop things.”

  “Okay, a beach boil it is,” Aunt Sam said. “We'll all pitch in. Dodie, make a list and Brody can get what you need from the farmers' market in Archibald Village and I'll call Nick to bring the seafood.”

  Soon I found myself out on the beach behind the B&B, helping Aunt Sam set up tables to work on, while Dodie set up a huge pot on a propane stove. I knew what a low country boil was but I had never heard of a beach boil, and I wondered what went into it. Dodie was too busy to ask, but I found out soon enough; Brody arrived loaded down with bags from the market, and a few minutes later I was chopping onions and smoked sausage, dicing potatoes, cleaning ears of corn and peeling garlic cloves, and putting everything into bowls for Dodie. She added everything to the pot along with her special seasoning blend and brought the water to a boil. After that clams, Florida spiny lobsters, shrimp and blue crabs went in the pot. It smelled delicious.

  “This is going to take a while,” Dodie told me as she fitted a lid to the pot. “You'd better go back in the kitchen and help Nick cut up the fruit for the sangria. We'll need lots; those folks go through it pretty fast.”

  When I got to the kitchen Nick was sitting at the table with his chair tilted back, eating watermelon. On the table there were starfruit, watermelon, strawberries, grapes, papaya, mango and blueberries, none of which were ready to go into the sangria.

  “Well, that took you long enough,” he said. “Your Aunt Sam asked me to help you cut up some fruit for the sangria but you were nowhere to be found.”

  “You mean you've been looking for me?” I asked.

  “Not really. If I found you it wouldn't make any difference because you wouldn't be in the kitchen and that's where the fruit is.”

  “And you couldn't start cutting the fruit without me?”

  “No, cutting is dangerous. That's why you have to use the buddy system. People always have a buddy with them when they go swimming so if they get in trouble they have someone to help them. Cutting is like that, too. What would happen if I were alone in the kitchen and cut myself? By the way, could you pass me a few of those grapes?”

  A loud voice called from the hall, “Well, I'd stitch you up and send you back to help this poor girl chop that mountain of fruit!” I turned and saw a tall, well-built man of about sixty standing in the kitchen doorway. He had light red hair interspersed with gray and a very impressive mustache that tuned up at the ends. He was carrying a bottle of wine.

  “You must be Sammie's niece Teri,” he said. “I'm Dr. Brad Hendrix. I used to be a medical examiner on the mainland but I'm retired now. I still practice medicine here on the island though, so I'm perfectly capable of stitching up this goldbrick, should he need it. It wouldn't be the first time!”

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor,” I said. “I'd shake your hand but mine still smell of sausage and garlic.”

  “And if you stand too close you'll get fruit juice on that weird Hawaiian shirt,” Nick added.

  “Look who's giving me fashion advice!” Dr. Hendrix laughed. “Please call me Brad, Teri. Well, I won't interrupt your work any further, but I've been looking forward to meeting you. I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about your trouble with that despicable Walberg, but it will all turn out for the best in the end. You know the old saying; marry in haste, repent in leisure. And I've brought you a bottle of my special wine to cheer you up. I made it myself especially for you when I heard you were coming down here.”

  “Thank you so much! Apparently my breakup has been quite the topic of conversation here,” I said, glaring at Nick.

  “Oh right, like I'm the only one who told anyone,” Nick said.

  “So do you have your own vineyard?” I asked Brad.

  “No, no, when I retired to the island I had dreams of starting my own little vineyard but the soil wasn't right for growing grapes. I was disappointed, of course, but then I saw a video on the internet that showed how a person could make delicious wine from ordinary fruit juice! It took a bit of trial and error, but now I've really gotten the hang of it! Fortunately, I have have a highly unusual palate so I've been quite successful at blending just the right juices to make excellent wine; it's just a hobby right now, but everyone I give a bottle to just raves over it, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that I could turn it into a business.” He handed me the bottle, which contained a cloudy reddish liquid. “Even if you're not a wine connoisseur I think you'll every impressed with this particular wine. After you taste it I'll let you guess what kind of juice I used.”

  “That's wonderful! I'm looking forward to it,” I said. Actually, I wasn't. I'm not much of a wine drinker and I didn't think the odds were very good that I'd be able to guess what kind of wine Dr. Hendrix made, but I do know how to be polite.

  “Excellent! I'll bring over more for you to try while you're here. I'm already working on a new batch. Now I'd better go out back and see if Sammie needs help wrangling that group of psychopaths. Maybe they can get through dinner together without a brawl breaking out for once! I'll see you both later.”

  Once the fruit cutting was finally finished, Dodie came in and told me that the end was in sight; she didn't need any more help with the food, and Aunt Sam had told her I should come out and mingle with the guests. I quickly washed my hands and ran out to the RV to see if I could scrape together a presentable outfit. I rummaged through my bags and laid out a few possible options on the bed. Judging from the way Dr. Hendrix was dressed, it wasn't a very formal party, which was good since I didn't have anything that could be described as formal. I finally put together something that looked vaguely festive, and made my way out to the party.

  The guests were assembled on the back patio. Soft music was playing and everyone was standing around in groups talking. There were several tables around the edges of the patio, with blue and white striped umbrellas over them and little lights shining from inside the umbrellas. Dodie was setting up a serving table for the food at the back of the patio, assisted by Nick, who seemed to be doing more eating than helping.

  I saw Vanessa and Kristi on opposite sides of the patio from each other, mingling and chatting pleasantly with the guests, and Charles was in deep conversation with Dr. Hendrix over a bottle of the doctor's wine, while Gavin sat alone at a table, draining what looked like at least his second glass of sangria. Meanwhile Dawn stood by the door with a couple of other women, paying more attention to her phone than to the conversation. There was no sign of Brent Maxwell anywhere. If he decided not to show up at his own party after all the trouble we had gone to, I was going to go get my fruit cutting knife and show him my technique!

  Aunt Sam was talking with a few guests I didn't recognize, and when she saw me she motioned for me to come over. “There you are, Teri,” she said. “I'd like to introduce you to Marcie Croaker, the Mayor of our little island, and this is Sheriff Lois Landon and her husband Ralph.”

  Before I could say anything, Mayor Croaker, a statuesque middle aged woman with short brown hair, pulled a notebook out of her tote bag and said, “I'm so pleased to meet you dear, and my condolences for being left at the altar like that. Men like Wiggins should be shot.” She turned to Sheriff Landon and said, “Of course, I don't mean that literally, Lois. Now, Teri, I know you'll want to sign my petition that I'm sending to the Governor; Admiral Archibald Falls desperately needs a bridge from the mainland and no progress will be made unless we make our voices heard. I'm sure you can see how it would increase tourism and commerce for all our community, especially for your dear Aunt Sam. She isn't getting any younger, you know, and she doesn't have all that much time to build up her retirement savings. So if you could just take a few seconds and sign right here...”

  “But I'm just visiting,” I said. “I'm only here for two weeks.”

  “Well, you may want to stay longer, who knows?” the mayor said. “We all need to invest in the future of our community!”

  A red-faced man in a bright blue shirt with pink flamingos on it stepped up next to me and said, “I think this little lady is going to want to stay a whole lot longer if I have anything to do with it!” He put out his hand for me to shake. “Harlan Ringo's the name, and I'm not bragging when I say I'm the island's best real estate agent!”

  “You're the island's only real estate agent,” said Sheriff Landon.

  “And that's because no other real estate agent wants to come to the island and try to compete with me! I offer the best service in the state for both buyers and sellers and I have a nice property that would suit you to a tee, Tammy!”

  “The name is Teri,” Aunt Sam said, “and she isn't interested in buying property, Harlan.”

  “Only because she hasn't had a chance to see what's available! Everyone knows it's very hard to find a first class time share on a scenic island like this, but I've just put a beautiful condo on the market that overlooks the Gulf. Just imagine those sunsets! Imagine that beach! Imagine the rising property values! You can spend a couple of weeks there and when you go back to Ohio you can just go out to your mailbox and gather in the rent money for the other 50 weeks of the year! Property investment is the way to go, y'know. I call it 'giving your investments an address'. How about if I send someone from Team Ringo to pick you up at noon tomorrow and you can have a look at it?”

  Fortunately for me, Brent Maxwell, who had been nowhere in sight,chose to make his grand entrance at that moment. I doubt anyone had ever been so happy to see Brent Maxwell before!

  “Well, well, well, it looks like the band's back together!” he said. “I'm glad you're all here, and you're all going to be glad you're here, too, because this is not just a party; it's a surprise party! I have a couple of major announcements to make that I think will make your jaws drop. But we're going to save that for later! Right now the food's getting cold and the sangria's getting warm, so let's eat, everyone!”

  The beach boil had been spread out buffet-style on a long table that was covered with banana leaves and tropical flowers. Dodie stood at the end of the table handing out plates, and the guests all helped themselves. Brent Maxwell sat at the head of the largest table alongside Aunt Sam, Mayor Croaker, the Landons, Dr. Hendrix, Harlan Ringo and Dawn, who of course seemed more interested in her phone than the food. Gavin was at a second table nearby with Vanessa, Kristi and Charlie Gleason. There was room for one more at that table, but I decided to look for other options. It was then that I noticed a table behind the one where Brent sat which had a large sheet drawn across it. Judging from the lumpy bulge in the center of the sheet, it was covering something sitting on the table, but I couldn't tell what it was from the shape.

  I spotted a small unoccupied table and sat down there. I was not eating alone for long though, for Nick placed a plate heaped high with seafood on my table and sat down beside me.

  “Here I am,” he said. “What were your other two wishes?”

  “World peace and having a table to myself to eat in peace.”