‘Soft drink?’ she asked. ‘Our kitchen isn’t yet open.’
‘A Coke if you have one.’
We sat in lounge chairs by the side of the pool, which had been drained. Workers swarmed around in the deep end, shoveling debris out of the bottom and putting it in plastic sacks.
‘I’m sorry about Jaime,’ I said.
‘Thank you. He wasn’t much of a brother, but in my own way, I loved him.’
I took a sip from my can. ‘I’d like to talk to Alice. I promised her lunch, but looking around here, I think it will have to be at my place.’
Gabriele blinked and looked away. ‘We sent her home to Texas. Jaime’s death came as a great shock.’
I’ll bet. There were only two people who knew what really happened on that headland overlooking Poinciana Cove during the eye of the storm. Alice was one, and the other one was dead.
‘During the storm, Alice hinted that she might be pregnant,’ I said.
‘She is. Due in April.’
‘That should be a comfort to her, don’t you think?’
‘Al vivo la hogaza y al muerto, la mortaja, Papa says. Live by the living, not the dead.’
I sat quietly for a while, thinking. My late mother would have agreed with Rudolph Mueller.
‘Did Alice take the dog with her?’ I asked.
‘Beckham?’ Gabriele smiled sadly. ‘Yes, yes, of course. The paperwork was a nightmare, but she wouldn’t be separated from Beckham.’
There didn’t seem to be anything left to say, so I wrote my address on a napkin and extracted a promise from Gabriele that she’d give it to Alice the next time she saw her.
‘One thing else, Gabriele. Promise me you’ll take care of Alice?’
She considered me with cool green eyes, nodded, and walked away.
I invited Molly for dinner. Afterwards, we sat on the porch, sharing a chocolate bar by candlelight.
‘We’ve worked it all out, haven’t we, Molly.’
Molly put a square of chocolate in her mouth and licked her fingers. ‘You should write a book, Hannah.’
Paul lay in the hammock, only half listening, I was sure. ‘Worked out what?’
‘Jaime Mueller was running drugs,’ I said. ‘The plane would fly in from Colombia or somewhere, they’d off-load the drugs into the mini-sub and toodle over to the United States. Underwater.’
‘Way under the radar,’ Molly added. ‘I saw it on CNN. The Coast Guard and the Navy are making it so difficult for boats and planes to get through that drug smugglers are turning to submarines.’
‘Right. Jaime was the kingpin. The late Craig Meeks, Jeremy Thomas and maybe even trigger-happy Kyle were his accomplices.’
‘Who…?’ Paul began.
I held up my hand, still holding the chocolate bar. ‘Wait a minute. I’m coming to that. When Frank did that underwater dive, he saw the sub. Maybe he even watched it go out. Trouble was, Jaime saw him, too. So I suspect Craig and Jaime murdered Frank and Sally and stashed their bodies under the lobster trap.’
‘And after he sailed Wanderer back to Hawksbill Cay,’ Molly added, ‘Jaime bumped off Craig Meeks.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Paul wanted to know. ‘Why would Jaime kill Craig?’
‘Maybe Craig was OK with the drugs, but not with the killing?’ I shrugged. ‘Anyway, I figure he killed Craig to keep him from talking. Set his body on fire so it looked like the poor sap died in the wildfire. That’s why he was so eager to volunteer. Ugh.’
Molly chimed in. ‘But Jaime kept Sally’s ring, and the dog Duffy, and gave them to Alice.’
‘Right…’
‘Now that’s what I don’t understand,’ Paul cut in. ‘Stealing Wanderer and trying to cover it up was dim-witted enough, but holding on to the dog and that ring was just as good as saying, “Hey, look! I killed those people.”’
‘Yes, except Jaime never expected the bodies to be found. When they were, he panicked. Alice told me he asked for the ring back, but she refused.
‘As for Duffy,’ I continued, ‘Jaime probably thought a dog is a dog is a dog, until he discovered the microchip under Duffy’s skin.’ I paused long enough to pass the chocolate bar around again. ‘And then poor Duffy had to go, too. Alice told me Jaime threatened to throw the dog off Poinciana Point during the eye of the hurricane, but I think Jaime went over instead.’
Paul rolled on to his side, setting the hammock swinging. ‘She killed her husband over a dog?’
I shook my head. ‘It took me a while to put it together, but earlier in the week Gabriele mentioned that Alice had been under the weather. Then something Alice said during the hurricane finally clicked. “He said I couldn’t keep it.” At first I thought she was talking about the ring. Now that I know she’s pregnant, I’m pretty sure Jaime was pressuring his wife to have an abortion.’
Paul climbed out of the hammock and came to sit on the bench beside me. ‘The boat, the ring, the dog. It beats me how Jaime could be so stupid.’
‘Guys like Jaime think they’re above the law, like they’re born with a get-out-of-jail-free-card clutched in their chubby little hands.’
Paul shook his head. ‘But still…’
I raised a hand. ‘Why would Michael Vick risk a multimillion-dollar career with the NFL by staging illegal dog fights?’
‘I read it in the News & Observer,’ Molly said. ‘A twenty-two pit bull operation.’
I covered my mouth with my hand. ‘Eeeuw!’ Then forged on. ‘And there’s hotel maven, Leona Helmsley, who believed that paying taxes was only for “the little people”.’
Next to me Paul was nodding vigorously. ‘Martha Stewart went to jail because she wanted to save a measly seventy-five thou.’
‘I rest my case,’ I said.
‘Can we back up a minute?’ Paul asked. ‘Who’s Jeremy?’
‘He’s one of the staffers at Tamarind Tree,’ Molly explained. ‘He was around when the hurricane started, and he went out during the eye, but we didn’t see him at all afterwards. Gabriele came around looking for him.’
‘So, if Jeremy is gone and the mini-sub is gone…’
I threw my hands in the air. ‘Case solved!’
‘Not exactly,’ Molly added.
‘Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that Gator notified the Coast Guard to be on the lookout for the sub. But if Jeremy was dumb enough to take it out in the middle of a hurricane, it’s unlikely either he or the submarine will ever be found.’
‘Did Gabriele Mueller know what her brother was up to?’ Paul wondered.
‘I don’t think Gabriele knew, or Alice either. I’m not so sure about Jaime’s dad. He might have known, but simply looked the other way.’
‘With Jaime gone, what do you think will happen to the Tamarind Tree Resort?’
I shrugged. ‘Whatever Gabriele wants, I imagine.’
It had been several weeks since Hurricane Helen blew through, and things had returned more or less to normal. The Pink Store reopened at once, although pickings were slim until the barge steamed in with fresh supplies. The Cruise Inn and Conch Out reopened after a week with an all-you-can-eat conch fest which Paul and I attended with Molly and half the population of Hawksbill Cay.
The power came back on after six days, and we celebrated the return of the Cruisers’ Net to our morning routine.
Pattie confirmed what we’d learned through the grapevine, that Marsh Harbour had fared surprisingly well. Boats, docks and marinas had sustained moderate damage, but nothing like the havoc wreaked by Jeanne in 2004. Mangoes and Snappas were still closed, but planned to reopen soon, and the Conch Inn was serving dinner in the upstairs bar until their downstairs furniture could be replaced. Groceries, hardware and appliance stores were doing land-rush business, but most happily of all, Mimi called in to report that the horses had survived the hurricane as they had for centuries by taking refuge in the forest.