“She must have loved him very much,” Hattie mused, “even though she professed to have disowned him.”
“So perhaps you were the unconscious man the crew first carried to the beach,” Jordan told Seavey.
He shrugged. “Obviously, I have no recollection of the event.”
Jordan turned back to Charlotte. “Think, Charlotte. Can you tell me exactly who you saw on the beach that night?”
“There were so many people rushing around, what with the reporters trying to get us to tell our stories, the local farmers trying to help the injured, and others arriving in boats to transport us back to Port Chatham. Captain Williams wanted to go back on board, to see if he could find more survivors, but the rescuers felt the ship was too unstable. All I remember is being horribly cold, and feeling a terrible sadness. I didn’t want to believe that Jesse might truly be gone.”
“You cared a great deal for him.” Hattie said it very softly.
“Yes. Though Jesse struggled with his own demons, he was a true friend to me during that time. I’ll always remember him with great fondness.”
Hattie hugged her, saying, “I’m just glad you survived.”
“So pardon me for being the one to point out the obvious,” Jordan said, “but we still don’t know who murdered Michael, and I still don’t have the information I need about Sam Garrett.”
Frank roused himself from where he had been standing throughout Charlotte’s story. “Indeed, I doubt anyone truly cared whether Seavey lived or died, or even the manner in which he died.”
“Frank!” Hattie exclaimed, scandalized. “Michael is right here, you know.”
“His insults fail to disturb me,” Seavey replied mildly. “And as I’ve indicated, I’ve no wish to know the exact circumstances surrounding my death.”
“Well, I do,” Charlotte insisted. “And so does Hattie. You were kind to me, Michael, when I needed the help.”
“That’s a wonderful sentiment,” Jordan remarked, “but unless someone can give me a clue how to go about this, we may be at a dead end.”
“Good God, woman,” Frank protested. “Your humor leaves much to be desired!”
“Pardon?”
“Even I wouldn’t make fun of a man’s death by indicating that he had arrived at a dead end!”
Jordan closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “What I meant,” she explained, very carefully, “is that I may have run out of leads to investigate, to determine how Michael really died.”
Charlotte jumped up, hissing, and began to fly around the room.
“Oh, for …” Jordan began, exasperated.
“He’s back!” she screamed.
“What?”
“Danger! Danger!”
She meant the burglar, Jordan suddenly realized.
Giving the others a hand signal to stay put and remain quiet, she rose from her chair and crept over to the door that opened onto the hall and listened.
“Another human has broken into your house?” Seavey inquired from right beside her, causing her to jump out of her skin, swallowing the scream that bubbled up.
“Don’t scare me like that!” she whispered.
From down the hall, she heard a distinctive thump and a muttered oath.
Unbelievable. She pulled her cellphone from her pocket and hit speed dial. “The son of a bitch is back,” she said to Darcy, sotto voce.
“What?” Darcy sounded alert, even given the lateness of the hour. It must be a talent developed by all law enforcement, Jordan reflected. “Who? Your intruder?”
“Yeah.”
“Where are you?” she asked, all business.
“Kitchen.”
“Shit. Go out the back door, now. I’m on my way. And hang up and dial Jase. He should be home by now. For once, do not argue with me. Just do it.”
“I’m already halfway out the door,” Jordan assured, tiptoeing over to hold the door open while the ghosts floated through. She softly whistled for Malachi, who woke up instantly and trotted outside. Belatedly, he caught the sounds of more movement in the library and turned to let out a growl. Jordan shushed him and dragged him outside by the collar, which earned her a look of total canine outrage.
Ignoring him, she called Jase and quickly explained the situation. He hung up without bothering to reply, but not before she heard him running. Turning to peer through the darkness at Amanda’s tent, she saw nothing stirring inside. No help from that front.
“You should confront this person,” Seavey said beside her. “Never back down when facing your enemy. It merely encourages them to act more boldly the next time.”
“You’re absolutely right.” She was sick and tired of people breaking into her home and threatening her. Threatening her family.
A baseball bat landed at her feet, with Charlotte zooming up to hover above it. “Use this, Jordan.”
Hefting it in her left hand, Jordan stalked around the side of the house toward the scaffolding. She heard swearing coming from just above her. Looking up, she saw feet dangling from the hole above the French doors. The bastard was trying to crawl through.
Scrambling onto the first level of the scaffolding, she leaned over the metal pipe railing and swung the bat with both hands so hard her feet momentarily left the platform. It connected with a loud crack.
The intruder screamed, teetering for an instant on the header over the French doors. Then he fell backward. Grabbing for the metal crossbars holding up the scaffolding, he missed and fell to the ground below Jordan, arms and legs flailing. He hit the pile of siding, glancing off and toppling with it. Landing with a thud on the rock pavers, shingles falling around him, he let out a howl of pain, holding his ankle.
Malachi planted both paws on his chest, growling. The man went silent midshriek just as Jase skidded to a halt next to him.
Peering over the railing with bat still in hand, Jordan got her first good look at her burglar.
“Good Christ!” Michael Seavey said from the patio’s edge. “It’s that obnoxious little man who makes such a nuisance of himself in my hotel.”
Chapter 18
YOU broke my ankle, you bitch!” Clive Walters screeched.
“Shut up.” Jase pulled a still-snarling Malachi to the side and flipped Walters over on his stomach. Unconcerned with his injured foot, Jase rammed a knee into the middle of his back.
“Ow, ow, ow!”
Darcy, who was now walking across the yard toward them, tossed Jase her handcuffs.
“Bravo!” Seavey applauded, hovering at the height of the scaffolding and bowing to Jordan.
“Yes!” Hattie smiled up at her from below. “Well done, Jordan.”
Charlotte made enthusiastic clapping motions, glaring at Frank until he followed suit.
“I assume you’re okay?” Jase asked Jordan, craning his neck to glance up at the bat she still gripped.
“I’m fine. Really, really pissed, but fine.” She climbed down to the ground and walked over to Walters, who was whimpering in pain. “What gives you the right to break into my home and terrorize me, you asshole?”