Was it possible that they were killers? One of them was almost always at the house. They’d both been there for the party when Amanda and Sean had been about to leave for Ireland, the party where, if his theory was correct, Sean had been fed the mushroom that made him so sick. But what about earlier in the day, when Eddie had disappeared? They would both have been there at the house, preparing.
Was there a way one of them could have crept away from the house? Tom, yes, Clara, no. Could Tom have killed Eddie and Clara have poisoned Sean? Yes, possibly.
No hard facts there, only instinct again.
Gut instinct.
Which told him that scenario was possible but unlikely.
What was possible and also likely?
Amanda. Kat hated Amanda and was convinced the woman wanted her father dead.
Cal and Marni. Cal could easily have put on that disguise.
So could have any of them, but…
Cal was young and strong. He would have been able to tackle both Eddie and Gary, and throw a knife with enough force and accuracy to have hit Jorey, if Caer hadn’t gotten in the way.
Providence and Newport were no more than thirty miles apart, though traffic could turn the drive into an hour or more at the height of tourist season. But this was winter, and well before rush hour, and Zach made it to the house in good time. He was feeling confident, because information was coming in now, clues were beginning to add up. The truth was going to surface, because it was true: eventually, even the most careful killer got careless.
He pulled into the long drive in front of the house, and stopped. The yard was black with birds.
It was eerie. No matter how often he told himself that they were just birds, he’d never seen birds do anything like this before.
He remembered the way Caer had seemed to dread their appearance.
She claimed she was a banshee. Maybe that was what her group in Ireland called themselves. The Banshees.
No, she wanted him to believe that she was the real thing. A howling, flying, crying, screaming, mourning, escorting-the-dead kind of banshee.
Impossible. Banshees did not exist.
And massive raven migrations did not take place, bringing the creatures to Rhode Island in the midst of winter.
He slammed his way out of the car, a sense of dread filling his heart as he burst into the house through the kitchen.
Immediately, he discovered one truth. Cal was not the killer.
Cal was lying on the kitchen floor, blood streaming from a wound to his head and one of Clara’s heavy, old-fashioned iron frying pans lying nearby. The blood on it made it clear that it had been the weapon that felled the younger man.
Zach dropped to his knees at Cal’s side and lifted his wrist, looking for a pulse, fearing the worst. The man looked dead.
But there was a pulse. Faint, but real.
Zach pulled out his phone, called 911 and asked for an ambulance. As soon as he hung up, he called Morrissey. When he got no answer on the detective’s private line he momentarily doubted himself, but then Cal opened his eyes, the pupils uneven, and mumbled, “Go…she’s crazy, they’re crazy.”
“Tom and Clara?” he asked incredulously, looking at the frying pan by the man’s head.
“Marni,” he managed. “Marni and Amanda.”
“Where are they? Are they on the boat?”
“It’s rigged. Gonna blow up. She’s crazy. Marni is crazy. I figured it out this morning…caught her and Amanda…whispering…in it together….” He groaned. Speaking was costing him a tremendous effort. “Stop them. Got to stop them.”
Zach could hear the sirens. What could be done for Cal would be.
He lit out of the house; he didn’t have time to talk to the cops or the EMTs, but with Cal conscious, he could take care of that.
Back in the car, Zach raced down the driveway, jerked out onto the street with reckless speed, then tore down the road, cursing every other car he encountered.
When he reached the wharf, he saw the Sea Maiden. She was about twenty feet out and moving steadily away.
‘She’s crazy,’ Cal had said of his wife. Marni and Amanda had been in it together.
The Sea Maiden was moving slowly, making her way past the channel markers. Whichever woman was steering her would be careful, wouldn’t take a chance of being stopped by the shore patrol.
Who was the brain behind the crime? he wondered. Marni or Amanda? His money was on Marni, plotting and planning, in the office every day, with access to charts and logs, listening to Eddie’s tales. With Cal as her husband, she had access to Sean, as well. He would even bet that she had introduced Amanda to him.
He couldn’t just dive into the water and start swimming after them. He would freeze before he reached them. He couldn’t motor up, either. Too obvious. Cursing, he burst into the charter office, and found a wet suit and diving gear, then headed out.