Harsens Island (10 page)

Venetian blinds, sandwiched between the double-glass windows, dropped, slanting the light, causing Hannibal’s form to be dampened by shadow.

The door behind her opened.

“Yes, sir,” the majordomo said.

Hannibal addressed Sam.

“You must excuse me as I’m coordinating the final pieces of our fireworks display. Serhad will escort you to the door. Please give my condolences to the sheriff regarding his upcoming re-election.”

“Why was Hunter murdered? Who killed her?”

“Serhad? The young lady has mislaid her mental and physical bearings. Can you escort her to the parking lot?”

The majordomo smiled wickedly.

“Madam?”

Sam disliked personal insults, but these men wallowed in them, so when she addressed Serhad she used words she knew would anger him.

“Was your mother really a stripper?”

The majordomo’s neck and face reddened.

Hannibal’s laughter echoed around them.

She walked onto the beach. For what felt like a long time, she watched the water and the boats and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face and arms.

She kept her thoughts in order, unperturbed by Hannibal’s attempt to bully her.

There had never been a time when she was overly fearful of life or the actions of the men or women in it. There were the usual passing fears that came in seconds and might last minutes, the adrenaline fueled instants of aggression or threat of death, but fear was not her companion, master, or adversary. Fear was an occasional, unwanted visitor, nothing more.

She went back to her cottage. When she was within eye distance of it, she saw Rowland’s cruiser, an ambulance, and another cop car from Algonac. There were two unmarked cruisers on the front lawn. She could see Snake’s Camaro in front of her garage. Yellow caution tape fluttered between the trees at the driveway entrance. There were maybe ten people in her front yard. Rowland saw her and approached her.

“Sheriff. What’s the problem?”

“Sam. Your house alarm tripped. It looks like someone tried to break in through the backdoor, but as far as we can determine nobody made it inside.”

“So why all the fuss?”

“Let me show you.”

He started toward the house.

“If you have anything to say, Sam, now’s the time.”

They each took three steps.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Jesus,” he said.

“You’re blushing.”

“No shit.”

He escorted her to the backdoor.

“First off, there’s this.”

There was a smattering of blood on the cement steps and frame of the white screen door. The inside door was slightly ajar; she could hear the alarm control box beeping.

“Then there’s this.”

They walked to the Camaro she’d sold to Snake.

The driver door was open.

“When Emily arrived everything was like it is now, only the car was running. I turned it off, and when I did, I saw that.”

He pointed.

Sam peered in, her hands behind her back, not making contact with the car. A
Coach
computer bag sat on the passenger side floor.

“Recognize it?”

Sam stood straight.

“It’s Lynn Hunter’s.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Rowland’s blue eyes locked onto hers.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” she said, teasing him.

Rowland opened his mouth but she interrupted him, speaking quietly.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Alright,” he said. “Good. I’m glad.”

“Let’s hope it all turns out okay in the end.”

Rowland smiled.

“I’m optimistic.”

“I am, too,” she said.

“Alright. Wait a second. Haberski just got here”

Haberski’s head and neck formed a thick, pillar screwed atop a stout body that was more muscle than fat. He was crowned with short, bristly hair, a mix of gray and black; his eyes were a watery blue. He was well north of five-feet. He wore a grayish shirt that had once been white, a burgundy tie partially hidden by an ample chin, a black belt, black slacks, and unpolished black shoes.

“Detective Steve Haberski, this is Samantha Melillo. This is her cottage and land.”

She did not extend her hand or otherwise try to ingratiate herself.

“Detective.”

Haberski said, “Where is it?”

Rowland pointed to the car.

Haberski went to the opposite door, opened it, and removed the bag. Haberski flipped the bag over and shook it, expelling dust and detritus. There was no phone, passport, or laptop.

“Seriously?” Sam said, more to herself than to the detective or Rowland.

“Say again?” Haberski said.

For a split-second, the old man eyed her distrustfully. Then he cleared his throat and addressed Rowland.

“Let’s crack the nut,” and started toward the cottage.

“Steve,” Rowland said to the detective. “I’ll take the bag.”

Haberski seemed to forget he was holding the computer case. He handed it to Rowland.

“You dumped evidence on my lawn,” Sam said to the detective.

“What’s that, missy?” Haberski said.

“I said, aren’t you going to check the trunk?”

“Say again?” the old man said.

“The trunk. Aren’t you going to check the trunk?”

“Rowland!” Haberski said. “Check the trunk!”

The detective swaggered to the front of the house, John Wayne coming in from a long desert ride.

“Where’s the trunk release?” Rowland asked.

“On the left,” Sam said.

The trunk was empty.

“Sorry,” she said. “I swore I left a body in here.”

Rowland laughed softly.

“Jesus, Sam.”

“How old is this Haberski character?” she asked.

“Hell, north of seventy. He’s ex-trooper. He retired but decided to keep a hand in the game.”

“It’s my lucky day, isn’t it?”

They joined him and the other deputies, two women and two men, on the porch. Haberski motioned to the inner door and barked his unhappiness.

“Are you opening this or do I kick it in?”

“Go for it,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Missy, I don’t need a warrant...”

“…Did I say you needed one?”

Rowland said, “Listen, Sam…”

She unlocked and opened the door. It swung forward and back, almost closing. From inside, the alarm box beeped loudly.

“Go ahead,” she said, staring at Haberski.

The detective delivered a prepared speech.

“By allowing us in your home without a warrant you cannot later claim we conducted an illegal search. By allowing us in your home without a warrant you are waiving…”

She pushed the door open with her right foot.

“I said go ahead.”

Haberski glared at her as he entered.

“No weapons?” Rowland said. “No rifles, handguns, or illegal drugs?”

“Nada.”

Hunter had emphasized she could not possess a firearm. It had not been an issue for Sam: she’d had enough of guns and death from guns.

After the other deputies, EMT’s, and Haberski were inside, Rowland tugged at Sam’s elbow.

“Jesus, take it easy, will you? He’s an old man.”

“He’s an old idiot,” Sam said.

She settled in one of the living room chairs and watched them indifferently, the byproduct of her incarceration. They opened closet doors, examined kitchen cabinets, and searched under her bed with flashlights. There was nothing they didn’t open, lift, shake, or otherwise scrutinize. The EMT’s left after determining there was no one in the cottage needing medical attention.

She reminded the detective to not forget the garage.

“We’ll get there,” Haberski said. “Thanks for the hot tip.”

“No problem.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ve got an abandoned, idling car, blood on a door, and an alleged attempted break in. You’re searching for a wounded man or a body. The garage is the best bet for either. By the way, the trunk was empty.”

Haberski had old man eyebrows: long, unruly hairs that now scrunched down toward his nose in an almost comical way.

“You think we’re looking for a man? A
he
? Now why’s that?”

“I was using the grammatical
he
. I’m sorry if that confused you.”

The detective assumed an at-ease stance, feet shoulder width apart, hands behind his back. Sam deduced he’d been an officer in the Marines; his bearing and attitude was of a man convinced of his superiority.

“Keep talking, missy,” Haberski said.

“The car was originally mine. I sold it to Elon Adams. You might know him as ‘Snake’. He may be the one who drove the car and he may be the one who tried to enter the house. I would think you’d want to find him first. Maybe start with the garage.”

“Why would a tow truck driver break in to your house?”

“Maybe he wanted to use the phone. When you find him you should ask.”

“It could’ve been for money,” Rowland interjected.

“Say again?” Haberski said.

“I’ve already spoken to her about it, Steve, but when she first arrived she bought and paid for everything with cash – no checks or credit cards. I warned her about the habit, that if word got around she was sitting on a pile of cash...”

“…Old-fashioned B and E?” Haberski interjected.

“It’s a good bet.”

“And then the deal went south?” Haberski said.

“That’s a thought,” Rowland said.

Sam nodded, shifting her eyes from Rowland to Haberski and back again.

“A good thought,” she agreed.

The detective placed a hand on his chin and twisted his lips in a gesture indicating deep thought.

“Dowicki!”
he barked.

Emily startled the old man when she emerged from the kitchen.

“
Hell
, Dowicki, put a bell on your neck! Go to the garage and take another look around.”

“Okay, sure,” Emily said. “Uh, what should I be looking for?”

“
Think
, Dowicki,
think
.
Clues
, Dowicki! Maybe the guy she killed is out there.”

Emily crossed her eyes, turned, and exited through the rear door.

“You’re a real people person, Steve,” she said.

“Don’t call me Steve. I’m
Detective
Haberski.”

“Suit yourself.”

“So,” Haberski said, drawing the word out. “Tell me,
Nancy Drew
, where have you been?”

“I paid a visit to Four.”

“Four what?”

“
Four
. The lord of the manor.”

The old man scowled.

“Listen to me,
missy
,” he said, his voice angry and bitter. “I’ve known
Mr.
Hannibal longer than you’ve been alive. When you use his name, you use it
respectfully
. You get me?”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

“When did you see
Mr.
Hannibal?”

“About an hour ago.”

“About?”

“Fifty-seven minutes and ten seconds ago.”

“And why did you do that?”

“That’s none of your business, detective.”

Haberski, looking to Rowland, motioned with his right thumb.

“Is she yanking my chain?”

Rowland, staring at her, shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so, no.”

The back door opened and closed.

“Nothing there,” Emily said, entering the room. She hadn’t been gone more than two minutes.

“Didn’t think there would be,” Haberski said. “You got any more suggestions about how I should do my job, missy?”

She smiled at Rowland, and gestured to Haberski with a thumb.

“Is he yanking my chain?”

Rowland said, “The both of you need to relax.”

“I’d start with Snake,” she said. “Find him and you’ll find answers.”

Rowland and Haberski exchanged a look.

“Alright with you?” Rowland said.

“Give it to her,” the detective said. “Both barrels.”

Sam emitted a short laugh.

“Snake hasn’t been seen yesterday or today,” Rowland said. “He’s missing.”

She stared at them but said nothing.

“No comeback?” Haberski said.

“You’re impounding his Camaro, right?”

Haberski guffawed.

“What do you think?”

“Hunter habitually brushed her hair over her ears. If she was in his car, you’ll find strands of it. She shed like a cat.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then she wasn’t in the car.”

“It won’t prove nothing,” he said.

“Then it’s what it disproves.”

“Say again?” he said.

“I said, you would’ve done just as well to have torn up my backward with a monster truck. Footprints, car tracks, blood maybe – you’ve contaminated everything.”

“I think we’re done,” Rowland said.

“
Nancy Drew
,” Haberski said tersely.

“Do you think Snake’s dangerous?” she asked.