Resort to Homicide

  * * *

  "How are you enjoying your stay so far?" Luke asked as we bounced along the road toward the north point.

  "I've been on your little island for exactly," I consulted my watch and did the calculation. "Seven hours thirty six minutes. I haven't really gotten to meet your other guests. They seem to be an eclectic grouping of people. Anyway, from what I've seen thus far, you've got yourself a pretty good set up. I still can't believe that you found a way to buy an entire island to build your resort on."

  Luke smiled. "I got lucky. Found the island, and then was able to get some investors who believed in what we could do here, and voila! I'm on the road to attaining my dream of having my own high-end resort.

  "I'm hoping that everything goes well with Missy and the baby, and that we can officially open before Labor Day."

  "Since I didn't get the tour when I got here, what do you have planned?"

  "We've got a stable with a dozen horses and an experienced guide to lead trail walks around the perimeter of the island. I recruited Deb from Tennessee. You remember her, right? Well, when things got moving here, I looked her up and she came out.

  "They've almost finished the eighteen-hole golf course, and we have tennis courts as well as the pool. Missy and I have been toying with the idea of hiring an activities director to coordinate things."

  "If things aren't ready, and you're not officially open, why do you have the other guests here? I mean, I'm family. I came here to be with you and Missy for a bit before the baby comes. But you've got several other guests that are here for the weekend. Wouldn't it be better to wait until everything was done before having the dry run?"

  We pulled up near the far end of the island. "We've got to go the rest of the way on foot. Only about a hundred yards." Luke said.

  I grimaced, pulled the hood of my raincoat tight, and stepped into the howling wind.

  Luke used a diving light to illuminate the path leading to the turbine tower. The massive blades made an odd noise as they twirled in the strong winds.

  Entering the shack at the base of the tower, Luke pulled back his hood. "Can you hold this and shine it over at the panel when I'm ready?" he asked.

  Taking the light, I tried again. "You never answered my other question, Luke. If you're not ready to open, why do you have guests here?"

  "The investors demanded it," he stated clearly as he pulled out tools from a cabinet hanging on the back wall. "In order for me to finance this place, I needed to have quite a bit of capital. Missy and I took our savings, and made the initial bid. We sold the house back in Virginia and took everything from that and added into the mix. But, we were still short.

  "I ended up going to a meeting that put entrepreneurs in touch with prospective investors. I was able to sell my idea and vision, and gained six new partners. With their resources, I was able to get a mortgage to cover the cost of the island itself and the restoration of the buildings.

  "When we had a quarterly meeting, in June, they asked if they could come out for a weekend to give the place a dry run, so-to-speak. I figured, sure why not? Never thought we'd get this kind of weather."

  He motioned for me to follow him through the next door. As he pulled the door open, an acrid odor assaulted our noses.

  On impulse, I scanned the room with the light.

  Black burn marks marred the white walls and wires stuck out of the main panel box. Glancing up, I noticed there was shrapnel of various shapes and sizes embedded in the ceiling tiles.

  Luke stuttered, "What the heck? It blew up! How? This shouldn't be able to happen."

  The light fell on a small item lying on the floor.

  I nudged it with my toe. "Part of a cell phone, that's badly burned," I said.

  Luke's head came up. "What does that mean?"

  "I don't think that this was an accident. Somebody wanted the power to be out tonight and blew the control panel up."

 

  -2-

  "Come on, Luke, there's nothing that we can do right now," I said. "We've got to leave this for the police."

  "The police?" he asked in a wavering voice. "Can't you handle it? You were a cop."

  "This was a deliberate act. Someone rigged your control panel so that it would explode, taking out all power along with the generator. This is a crime scene that needs to have police investigators going over it. And that doesn't include me. I'm not a cop any longer. The only mysteries I solve now-a-days are the ones that I make up in my books."

  Luke's shoulders drooped. "What am I going to tell every one else?

  I pulled him out of the room leaving the door open. "We're going to tell them that nothing we tried worked out here to get it back up and running, and that we're going to have to wait until the storm is over before we can bring out an expert to fix this.

  "Is there any place else on the island that would have a generator that we could snag so that we can restore some power to the main house?"

  Luke thought for a minute. "Yeah. Missy and I were living out of our camper for a few weeks while they finished the interior restoration. I've got a small gas powered generator there. Oh, I forgot, there's an antique monster out behind the house, but I don't think it's run in years."

  "Let's go," I said pulling him out of the shack towards the truck.

  It took nearly ten minutes to go less than a mile to where Luke stored his camper. Thirty minutes later, we were pulling back up to the main building.

  Luke walked into the sitting room first to let everyone know what was going on. It was empty except for Missy who was sitting in a rocking chair knitting little booties.

  She looked up at us. "You're back, but the power's not on."

  Luke crossed to her, "We've got a problem, Missy. Somebody blew the control panel and the main generator to bits," he said quietly to ensure that anyone unseen couldn't hear.

  Missy gasped. "What do you mean?"

  "Everything in the shack is pretty much in pieces. Laura found something that she said was important, and that we need to call the police."

  I nodded from the door way as I stood waiting for the officer on duty to transfer me to the right person.

  "What'll we do?" Missy asked.

  Luke shrugged. "We brought the generator up from the camper. That will get lights and essential appliances back on line. Tomorrow, Mark and I will see about that old monstrosity out back. Even then, we'll be roughing it for the next few days."

  Finished with my call I walked over to them. "I left a message for a Chief O'Brien. Hopefully we'll hear back from him fairly soon. In any case, they informed me that they wouldn't be able to send anyone out here until after the storm passes. Apparently, the surf is getting close to eight feet, which means that the waves are breaking over your little bridge."

  "I know O'Brien. Met him a couple of times at some town functions over the last year or so. I might have mentioned my favorite, ah, famous sister to him a time or two," Luke said with a chuckle. "He's a good guy."

  It took Luke and I nearly twenty minutes to get the generator hooked up. Once power was running to a few selected outlets, I curled up in one of the wing back chairs. I needed time to think. I may no longer be a badge-carrying member of the NYPD, but my training was still intact.

  Pulling a notebook out of the little table, I wrote down the facts as best as I could recall them. I had to approximate the time that we'd found the control room, but I knew I would be within a few minutes. I'd checked my watch on the trip there, and it hadn't taken us much longer to reach the turbine. I noted where each person was in the sitting room. A quick check of the clock that sat on the bookcase in the sitting room helped to determine when the power went out.

  Once power was up, Missy asked Linda Carlson, one of the housekeeping staff, to let everyone know that the sitting room had power. Over the next fifteen minutes, almost everyone came back down. The only person missing was Anthony, but his wife didn't seem
too concerned.

  "So what happened to that big generator that we purchased to put in to keep the lights on, Luke?" Michelle asked.

  "Not sure," Luke responded warily. "We checked everything, but nothing we did made any difference. We've already called the dealer, but they won't be able to get anyone out here until the weather clears."

  "Nice to know that everything works so well," Greg sneered. "I told you that we'd be better off going with the major service from the mainland."

  Missy spoke up this time. "Part of what we wanted with this resort was a green facility. And by putting up the turbine, not only are we independent of the grid, but we can sell the excess to the power company, which brings in some revenue each month."

  "Greg," Kevin said. "We went through all of this in the past. Just because your family owns a major percentage of the electrical provider in the area, there is no reason for this resort to kowtow to your whims. When we," he used his hands to draw a circle in the air, "the board, went over everything, this is the solution that made the most sense. It helps to keep the cost of operation lower, provides the resort with monthly income, provided major tax breaks and theoretically, it should be more reliable than having a half-mile line laid under the bridge."

  The conversation continued to be bounced around the group.

  I sat in the chair, with my feet tucked and Scooter on my lap, watching the dynamics. Luke had never told me who the actual board members were, but since only Kevin, Greg, Michelle, Jim and Beth were adding to the conversation with Missy and Luke, I concluded that these were most likely the board members. Since Kim wasn't paying any attention, to the goings-on, I guessed that it was Anthony from that pairing who was on the board.

  I grabbed a book from the shelf and returned to my chair. This gave me the cover I wanted; I was able to monitor the conversation unobtrusively.

  Things quieted down about fifteen minutes later. I wondered how I was going to get Luke alone to get him to confirm my observations. After watching the interactions among the group, I was fairly confident that I knew what role each member played on the team.

  "Has anyone heard from Tony?" Kim asked looking up from her phone.

  There was a chorus of no's from around the room.

  Missy took a seat near Kim and asked, "What's up?"

  Kim shook her head. "Just after Luke and-is it your sister-in-law?-it doesn't really matter. Just after they left, Tony got a text and said he needed to make a phone call. I didn't worry at first, but I figured that it's been about half an hour, so I just tried his phone. It rang five times and then went to voice mail."

  "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Tony's always been wheeling and dealing with people. He seems to be doing fairly well in the investment game. Perhaps he just needed to lie down for a bit," Scott suggested before taking another belt of whiskey.

  Missy pressed a button on the house phone. "Mark, one of our guest, Mr. Moreno, hasn't come into the sitting room. Would you please check his room and be sure that he's all right? Hmm-mmm. Thank you."

  She turned to Kim. "There you go, Kim. Mark's going to check in on Tony for you and make sure that everything is all right."

  The young woman smiled in thanks and went back to staring at her phone.

  Everyone jumped at the odd buzzing sound. Missy picked up the receiver. "Yes? What do mean? Oh. Well, that's sure a mess. Yes, please let Linda know. It might be best to call in Pam, Ken and Ron as well. Thank you, Mark."

  As Missy hung up the phone, all eyes were on her. "Mark said that Mr. Moreno is not in his room, and that there appears to?have been some kind of altercation."

  Kim popped out of her chair, "What do you mean an altercation?"

  "It appears as though some furniture was knocked over, and some clothing was strewn about the room."

  Kim sank into the chair, covering her face with her hands and sobbing.

  Kevin spoke up, "Luke? Can you get us a few flashlights? I think we should split up and search the grounds as well."

  "I've already asked the staff to begin that process as well," Missy said. "But I'm sure it will go much faster with everyone working together."

 

  -3-

  Fifteen minutes later, we were searching the house for any sign of Anthony Moreno. It had been decided by Michelle that it would be best for us to work in teams of two. The couples opted to work together, and I paired up with Luke, while Missy sat in the sitting room with Kim.

  "Tell me about Mr. Moreno, Luke," I said as we were descending into one of the cellars.

  "I don't really know that much about him, honestly," Luke said. "When I knew that I was going to need funding, I mentioned it to Kevin. I figured with his business contacts and all, he'd have an idea on where to go for it. Kev mentioned there was a symposium for local investors coming up, and invited me to go along.

  "He e-mailed me some paper work, and then coached me over the phone as I filled it out. At the symposium, I was given the opportunity to talk to about fifty potential investors. I showed them the business plan that I had and answered a bunch of questions.

  "About a week later, I was asked to meet with a group of people. We talked about several points that they wanted clarification on. In the end, we decided to become partners in the project. Missy and I combined own fifty-one percent of the resort. I'm the Chief Executive Officer, and Missy is the Chief Financial Officer for now. The others put up various amounts that gave us the total that we were looking for.

  "As for Tony-I believe that he put up about a quarter of a million for his share, the same as Kevin did. He's one of the larger shareholders in Rim Runners'. Between him and Kev, they hold thirty percent of the remaining stock. But, I've only met him three times before this weekend."

  I thought about that as we made our way through the dark cellar. Moreno owned roughly a fifteen percent share of this resort. "How much of percentage do the others hold?" I asked.

  "As I said, Kevin owns about fifteen percent, same as Tony. Michelle, Greg and Jim each own a five percent share. Beth holds the last four percent."

  "Do you think that Beth is upset only having four percent?" I tried.

  "I don't think so. She was friendly with one of the others. Greg, I think. Anyway, Beth wasn't at the initial meeting. Pretty sure that it was Greg who contacted her about the investment. She came to the second meeting, but didn't want to commit immediately, saying she needed to talk it over with her partner. After a few days, she called said they'd thought about it and would like to invest. When I told her how much was left, she agreed immediately."

  We were in the third cellar, one that had likely been used for storing vegetables when the building was first built. Luke and Missy had filled the space with several shelves worth of supplies. We were looking between sacks of flour and sugar when the scream came from outside. Luke and I scrambled to the nearest set of stairs.

  "What do you think that scream meant?" Luke asked taking the stairs two at a time.

  "If I had to guess, I think that they've found Mr. Moreno. And something tells me he's not doing too well."

  We came up in the kitchen, which was currently empty. Through the windows, we could see several bobbing lights moving away from the house. Going out the kitchen door, we started running towards the group that was assembling.

  "It looks like they're over by the maintenance shed," Luke huffed out."

  "What do you keep there?" I asked keeping stride, knowing that I was going to pay dearly for the run tomorrow.

  "We've got a couple of small tractors. I keep a tool set out there for when I'm working on one of them."

  The maintenance shed was a not much more than a twenty by twenty box. A garage door opened into the main yard. A pair of small Kubota tractors stood at the ready, each with mower attachments.

  Missy was pulling Kim out of the group of onlookers. Kim was about doubled over, her mouth opened wide, but no sound coming out and her
fist rubbing her eyes.

  "What is it?" Luke asked as we came into the crowd.

  "Tony," was all Kevin said.

  I took a quick glance at all of the other people standing there. There were the five couples; in each the husband was comforting his wife. The men were all staring at the body, while most of the women had their faces pressed into their husbands' shoulders. Trying to keep the image out, I guessed.

  Missy had pulled Kim back towards the house. Luke was alone in the front of the crowd of onlookers. I recognized the trail instructor, Deb, who stood towards the back close to Pam. There were four others that I didn't know standing close by. A woman who looked to be in her sixties was leaning on a sturdy man, while two other men stood with their heads down and their hands in their pockets.

  More than a decade of training took over.

  "Okay, folks. It's wet out here, and by everyone being here, we're liable to do more harm than good. Now I need to know, did anybody touch the body?"

  "Who put you in charge?" Greg demanded.

  "Greg," Luke said turning to face the man. "Laura was a homicide detective in New York before she left the force and began writing. She'll know what to do right now."

  The man of the couple that I didn't know nodded. "I did. When Linda found him, I went over to check for a pulse. He was already dead."

  "You are?" I asked.

  "Mark. Mark Carlson. My wife and I take care of housekeeping, maintenance and grounds. Linda is the one who found him."

  "Did you move the body in any way, or was this how you found him?"

  Mark shook his head. "No, ma'am. He was stretched out like he is now. I approached him from over here, and checked his pulse on his neck. I didn't move the body."

  "Okay, let's get everyone back into the house. Luke, I'm going to need a list of everyone who is currently at the resort, either as guest or employee." And, I thought, a whole lot of luck.

  While Luke headed to the house with the others, I pulled out my cell phone. It took about four minutes for me to get connected to the person that I thought would be best able to help me.

  "Chief O'Brien," the gravely voice said.

  "Chief? This is Laura Merrifield. I'm currently standing in the maintenance shed at Rim Runners' Resort. We've got a body, tentatively identified as Anthony Moreno."

  "Please tell me you're kidding," O'Brien's voice sounded strained. "You do realize that the entire area is under a hurricane warning, right? The storm surge is expected to be nine feet, and that little spit of concrete that your brother calls a bridge out to that God-forsaken island is less than three feet above the water. There is no way that I can get anybody out there to do anything about a dead body until maybe Monday."

  "Monday?" I choked. That was three days away. Besides, everyone here would be gone on Monday. I knew what I was going to have to do, but it didn't make it sit any better. "Chief, I'm positive that Anthony Moreno was murdered. As you've so eloquently pointed out, getting on or off of this island right now is impossible. That means that whoever killed Moreno is one of those here at the resort. I'd," I sucked in a deep breath, hoping to gain some courage before I plunged onward. "I'd be willing to take charge of the crime scene, get the photos, secure the body in some type of cold storage, and begin interviewing those that are here."

  I had to wait through his laughing fit.

  "Listen, Ms. Merrifield, I know that you write about crime and you seem to have a fairly good imagination, but this ain't no place for a fiction writer."

  "Chief O'Brien, you may know my bio that is on the back of my novels, but you don't know me. I spent six years in uniform for the NYPD, followed by nearly eight more as a detective in homicide. If you want to take some time to make a few phone calls, I'd recommend Lieutenant Carl Weaver, he's out of the thirty-second precinct. Give him a call and see if what I say holds up. I'm giving you a chance to have eyes and ears on this case now, less than an hour after it occurred rather than starting in seventy-two."

  When he spoke, there was no doubt that he was frustrated. "I'll make those calls. If, and that's a big if, I'm satisfied, I'll call you back at this number, and we'll discuss how we're going to proceed with this case."

 

  -4-

  Gray clouds covered the entire sky the next morning, giving everything an eerie overcast. When combined with the rain that continued to pelt down hard and the brutal winds, being anywhere but indoors was about insane.

  I sat at the dining room table, my head perched sleepily on my fist. I was trying to brace myself in more than one way right now.

  The other guests began arriving and taking their places at the table. When Luke and Missy came in, I knew that it was time to start.

  "Okay," I said between mouthfuls of toast. "Everyone here knows what happened last night. I need to bring you up to date on where things stand presently.

  "Chief O'Brien made some calls last night to check out my credentials. Since the weather precludes him from getting anybody here, and my credentials held up, he gave me the go-ahead from his office to handle this case. Everything that I do is being video recorded, so I need to use an assistant. I've already recruited Luke to be that assistant."

  "Don't you think that's showing a bit of nepotism, Ms. Merrifield?" Michelle demanded. When everyone looked to her, she continued. "Mike and I called our attorney. We are not happy about this whole thing. And now we find out that you're going to have your brother be the assistant? Smells like a cover up to me."

  I held up my hand. I really didn't want to do this, but I needed to establish a few things.

  "Mrs. Carter, let me answer everything in order. Do I see this as nepotism? Absolutely not. I chose Luke for one reason. He hadn't been out of my sight last night since the power went out and he was with me until the body was found. Now," I paused and looked around the table. "Since he is the only one that I am sure of, besides myself, that didn't kill Anthony Moreno, at this time, he's the only one I can trust.

  Forks clattered to the table and it seemed that everyone mumbled. Three of the guests, Kevin, James and Scott, sat stoic. The only movement that I saw out of these three was Kevin nodding his head.

  "I don't think I can find fault with your reasoning to pick your brother, Ms. Merrifield. However, I think it would be best if all of the data that you find is shared with everyone of us," Beth said.

  "No," I answered quickly. "At this point, everyone who is on this island is a suspect. It is definitely not good practice to give the person who committed this act the evidence that will be used to convict them."

  "What do you mean that we're all suspects? I find your claim preposterous," Mike said loudly. "If you don't retract that statement, I'll be getting in touch with my lawyer, and we'll sue you for libel."

  I let out a breath slowly, counting to ten before I began my reply.

  "Mr. Carter, I am not bending to your, or anyone else's, will. Before you say anything else, let me lay out a few facts. At this point, we know that Anthony Moreno was killed out in the maintenance shed last night. I'd guess most likely between the hours of eight and ten. When my brother and I left to check on the generator at seven-fifty five, he was alive. His body was found around ten-ten.

  "Due to the storm, no one has been able to get on or off of this island, so that implies that whomever murdered Moreno is someone that is sitting in this house right now. Those are facts, not libel.

  "She's right, Mike," Greg nodded. "You can try, but you're going to be wasting your money."

  Mike's face turned bright red. "So you're saying we should just sit here and let some broad who spins murder tales for a living consider us suspects? I don't think so!"

  His wife placed her hand over his wrist. "Mike, I think the best thing is to call Carmichael and let him know the situation. But, we'll have to trust him on this, I think."

  The others at the table nodded slowly. They didn't like what was before them,
but they had no way to change it.

  I swallowed and continued on. "Luke and I began to process the scene last night. Everything has been documented by using a good digital camera and my iPad.

  "We spent nearly an hour collecting evidence from around Moreno's body. After documenting the scene, we sent the photos to Chief O'Brien. With his okay, we collected everything into plastic zip-lock bags and have secured them in a temporary evidence locker. Following protocol, the body has been secured to protect it and the evidence until the coroner can come to claim it."

  I didn't think they really needed, or wanted, to know that Tony was currently wrapped in a layer of paper followed by a tarp, or that we'd moved the body into the cold storage unit behind the house. It wasn't being used yet, but had been running for several days prior to the electric being cut, so hopefully it would preserve him until Monday.

  "It is my understanding that Luke has already talked to his head guy, and they are working on getting another gas powered generator running this morning. With some luck, that will provide power to charge phones, computers and what-have-you.

  "As the morning goes on, I'm going to need to speak to each of you individually. If you don't want to speak without your attorney, we'll set up a time that we can Skype them to keep everything on the up-and-up."