A Compass Bay beach towel was still draped across the lounge. Instead of the yellow police-line do-not-cross tape that would have been wound around the area in the States, here a bright red rope strung across the middle of the pier prevented the curious from getting too close to the crime scene. On the other hand…
As she watched, a head popped up out of the surf, looked around, and apparently spying her, ducked back down.
Susan jumped up and ran across the few feet to the water and waded in, trying to keep an eye on the underwater swimmer, but he-she was pretty sure it was a he-was impossible to spy beneath the lambent sunlight on the water.
“See something interesting, Mrs. Henshaw?”
Susan looked up and over her shoulder and discovered James striding down the stairs to the beach.
“Someone-there’s someone swimming out there-underwater.”
“Snorkeling?”
“Excuse me?”
“One of the guests snorkeling?” He paused in his descent and, shading his eyes with one hand, peered out to sea.
“Yes. I guess that’s who it was. I was surprised by how long whoever it was remained underwater.”
“Probably someone snorkeling and you didn’t see the tip of the snorkel above the water,” James said, putting down his hand and turning to Susan. “Good news. The Robbinses are going to kayak with us. The more people we have, the more fun we have,” he added without much enthusiasm.
“Can she-I mean-” Susan was too much of a lady to ask the question.
“Many of our larger guests do just fine on the sea kayaks,” James said, answering the question she hadn’t asked.
“I know the kayaks aren’t as unsteady as they appear. But I still have trouble getting on and off,” Susan said, chatting as though nothing untoward had happened. She was still staring out at the sea. “How long can someone stay underwater when they’re snorkeling?”
“All day if they’re good. You don’t want to get water in the snorkel. Or in your eye mask, of course. You never tried to do it?”
“No.”
“You try. You might like it. Many of our guests like it. Oh, here are our companions all ready to go out to sea.”
“Yes. We’re ready!” Joann agreed, making her way slowly down the steep steps.
“Some of us are readier than others of us,” her husband said, trailing behind.
Joann threw him an angry look over her shoulder. “We’re here to have fun. We’re here to experience new things. There’s no reason we shouldn’t go kayaking.”
Martin Robbins flushed. “I don’t think I said anything to imply that I wasn’t going along.” His pale blue eyes glanced up at Susan for a moment before looking down at the boats.
Susan suddenly realized that Martin must have been exceptionally good-looking when he was young. He still seemed to be in excellent shape-tall and athletic. The contrast with his wife made her look even dumpier. Susan wondered what had brought them together when they were younger. Had she been thinner, less demanding, less annoying? Had he been the dominant partner in their relationship in the early years? She sighed. There was no time to speculate about such things now.
“Mrs. Henshaw, do you want to use the same kayak you used yesterday?” James asked, pushing the red plastic crescent toward her.
“I guess.”
“And I’d like that yellow one over there,” Joann spoke up. “Martin, you take the blue one.”
Susan couldn’t help hoping Joann would get soaked while trying to board her kayak, but, in yet another example of the lack of justice in the world, Joann slid onto her kayak without even mussing her hair. Martin, benefiting no doubt from the long list of instructions his wife offered, followed suit. The dunking that Susan got almost made her forget why she had suggested this activity in the first place.
James waited patiently for her to right herself, regain her balance, and begin paddling. Then he jumped into the last kayak and began to paddle. “Where do we go?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Susan answered honestly.
THIRTEEN
Susan’s experience in touring kayaks was once again not helping her to get the hang of the little sea kayak on which she was perched. She was having so much trouble, in fact, that she was forced to accept James’s offer to travel by her side.
Joann smirked and Martin looked concerned, but Susan had gotten what she wanted-the opportunity to talk with James in relative privacy.
“I heard you were walking on the beach last night.” She jumped right in, not knowing how long Joann would be content to bounce around on the waves, displaying a surprising skill in this sport.
“Ah, you know about that, do you? I am courting a lovely young lady who works in the kitchen. Her parents are very old-fashioned. They think I’m unsuitable for some reason.” James offered his most charming smile, and Susan could understand why a young woman’s parents would worry if their daughter was interested in him. “So we spend time together here when we can,” he continued. “The staff isn’t really supposed to be using the beach,” he added, lowering his voice. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention seeing me to Lila.”
“I’d never do that,” she assured him. “I mean, you have a right to your privacy. I’d imagine the beach was pretty deserted yesterday evening, wasn’t it?”
“No, ma’am! Cottages are all full this week. At least, they were until three emptied out this morning. But, still, there are few places where a man and his girl can be alone.”
“Did someone interrupt you yesterday?” Susan asked.
“We are always interrupted. You all okay?” he called out as the Robbinses steered their kayaks to the east.
“We want to see that large coral reef we’ve heard so much about,” Joann called back. “Just follow us.”
James looked over at Susan and shrugged. “That one, she likes to have her own way.”
“She seems to get it, too,” Susan muttered, guiding her kayak toward the east. She looked down into the water at a row of sand dollars lying in a line on the floor of the sea. “It’s amazing how close everything looks,” she said, momentarily distracted.
James chuckled. “It is close. Tide is low. Water not more than one, one and a half meters deep here.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No. Course, tide coming in. Soon it will be much deeper.”
Susan paddled along, considering whether or not this might have any bearing on the murder. “Can a person walk-wade-to the gazebo when the tide is low?”
“A tall person, yes. The water is maybe five meters at low tide this time of year. Later, in the summer, it is less. There is a blackboard in the bar. There, low tide and high tide are listed. The person who tends bar makes daily change.”
“That’s good to know.” Susan thought about this for a moment.
“You are wondering if someone walked out to pier and kill that woman,” James said.
“I was thinking of that, yes. Do you think it’s possible?”
“Not last night. Last night tide was high. Killer either walk on pier or swim.”
“Or kayak,” Susan suggested.
“Not kayak. Not in one of my kayaks. They are locked up when sun go down.”
“Why? Are you afraid someone will steal them?”
“No. Kayaks used to spend the night up by gift shop. They were leaned against walls. No one thought anything about it. Then one night some guests got drunk, took two kayaks, and drifted out to sea. They were rescued by U.S. Coast Guard the next day. Suffered sunburn and nothing else. Damn lucky they didn’t drown. One man was a lawyer. He threatened to sue. Said kayaks should be locked up. So now we lock them up. Can’t let stupid people do stupid things.”