Island of Secrets (5 page)

She held on to it with both hands, squeezing tightly as she worked the air bubble up his leg. D.J. realized what she was doing and tried to keep his other leg still. When she finished with that leg, she started working the other one, pushing the air pockets out. Then she took a deep breath and dove, dragging his feet down to the
sandbar. As she forced D.J. into an upright position, more bubbles worked their way free.

She surfaced and heard him shouting, “Over here! Hurry!”

Nancy turned to see a small fishing boat headed for them at top speed. It slowed when it reached them, giving Nancy the chance to take hold of the low gunwale to steady the boat against the breaking waves. Two men reached down and grabbed D.J.'s arms.

“Go around to the other side to help balance us!” one of the men told Nancy. She swam to the far side of the boat and held on to the edge. A third man leaned over on the same side, adding his weight to hers.

The two men reaching for D.J. paused a second, waiting for the next wave to help lift him. Timing it, they shouted, “One, two, three, heave!”

Nancy pulled down on the boat with all her strength. The hull rose up, lifting her almost clear of the water. D.J. was dragged over the side. The men grabbed his legs and flipped him into the bottom of the boat.

The little vessel righted itself. “Now you, young lady.” The third man grasped her under the arms and easily lifted her aboard.

Nancy sank down onto a cushioned seat, her breath coming in fast gasps. One of the men handed her a towel. “That was good work, miss. He owes his life to you.”

“And to you, too,” Nancy said, wiping saltwater off her face. “We sure were glad to see you coming.”

“He wouldn't have lasted till we got here if you hadn't helped. I saw a man drown in the same kind of accident. Once those waders are full of water it's like wearing a concrete suit.”

“Hey, fella”—one of the other men poked D.J.—“aren't you going to say thank you to this lady?”

D.J. sat in the bottom of the boat, next to a bucket of bait. His head was in his hands, the waders still binding his legs. Now he glanced up at Nancy and muttered, “Thanks.”

“Guess he needs a little time to recover,” one of the men said as he put the boat in gear and started back to the beach.

D.J. was embarrassed. “Sorry.” He began to work his feet free of the waders. “Th-thanks, all of you.”

“No problem, buddy.” The man beside him slapped him on the back.

“How did you know we needed help?” Nancy asked.

“Someone spotted you from the lighthouse and radioed us,” the man said. “We were fishing around the point. Glad we made it in time.”

Nancy smiled gratefully. “So are we.”

When they reached shore, Nancy and D.J. slowly walked back to the spot where D.J. had
left his things. Nancy could see D.J. was exhausted, so she silently picked up some of his fishing gear and carried it to his pickup truck. She noticed a sticker on the windshield, authorizing him to drive on the beach.

“You want a ride back?” D.J. asked when everything was loaded.

“Sure, let me pick up my clothes. I left my moped in the lot.” Nancy pulled her T-shirt over her wet bathing suit and climbed into the front seat. She glanced at his haggard face as they drove down the beach. She hoped he'd be willing to talk to her soon, but now wasn't the time to question him about his best friend's murder.

“Uh, well . . .” he said as he pulled up next to her moped. “I mean  . . . thanks.”

Nancy got out and watched him drive away. She shook her head, a thin smile on her lips. Some people sure have a way with words, she thought.

• • •

Hannah wanted to cancel their dinner reservation when Nancy told her about the rescue. “I'm glad you saved that poor man, but you must be worn-out. I think you need a quiet night at home.”

“I'm fine, Hannah, and I've been looking forward to dinner at the Bell Buoy. They say it's the best place in town for shrimp scampi.”

Hannah shook her head, but she couldn't hide
a small smile. As the sun began to dip over the west side of the island, they rode down the hill to the restaurant near the docks in Old Harbor.

When the hostess showed them to their table in the busy restaurant, Nancy was pleased to find that Angie was their waitress. She looked especially pretty, dressed all in white with a blue Bell Buoy apron and a matching blue ribbon in her long dark hair.

“Hi, Angie. I didn't know you were working tonight.” Nancy took the menu Angie handed her.

“I wasn't supposed to, but one of the girls is sick,” Angie said. “They called me because they know I'm always happy to make the extra money.”

“Hannah,” Nancy said. “This is Barb Sommers's roommate, Angelina Cassetti.”

“Hello,” Hannah said. “Nancy has told me about you.”

Angie smiled, then turned back to Nancy. “I heard about you rescuing D.J. today. He told Barb you saved his life.”

“How is Barb?” Nancy asked, anxious to change the subject. She hated to worry Hannah, and hadn't yet told her that she was investigating the murder.

“Barb is  . . . well, not so good,” Angie said. “On top of everything else, they've discovered that one of the burying beetle nests was destroyed
when that grave was dug. It's a real disaster, because there are so few of them to begin with.”

“That's a shame,” Nancy said.

Angie saw someone signaling her at another table. “I've got to go. Do you like swordfish? It's very fresh tonight—just off the boat.” She hurried away.

“Swordfish sounds good,” Hannah said.

After they finished consulting their menus, Nancy asked Hannah about Sarah.

“She's managing, but it's difficult,” Hannah said. “I stopped by Crazy for Crafts this afternoon. Thank goodness, the shop keeps her busy, but she's still upset. With the body being held for the autopsy, she doesn't know when she can have a funeral.”

Just then Angie returned to take their orders.

“Hannah will have the swordfish,” Nancy said. “And I'll try the scampi.”

Angie wrote it down, collected their menus, and said, “Gosh, Nancy, I'm so glad you're looking into this murder. Poor Barb has been hit with one thing after another—the murder, the beetles, now D.J. almost drowning. It helps her to know that you're going to find out who killed Tom.” She sighed and left.

Hannah frowned at Nancy. “You didn't mention you were checking into this murder.”

Nancy blushed slightly and said, “I was going to tell you. I just didn't want you to worry.”

“And why
shouldn't
I worry?” Hannah said. “You go risking your life, tracking down criminals—”

“There really isn't any danger, Hannah,” Nancy assured her. “I'm only asking a few questions because Barb really wants me to help out. She's sure D.J. is innocent. It's important to everyone, especially Sarah, that we find out the truth.”

Hannah sighed. “Poor Sarah. Not knowing is so hard on her. All right, Nancy, I see your point. Only promise me you'll be careful.”

“I promise,” Nancy said.

Nancy changed the subject while they ate, concentrating on their plans for when George and Bess arrived. They finished up by ordering two slices of double-fudge cake.

Angie was serving them their desserts when she stopped and gasped out loud. Nancy turned to see what she was staring at. Walt and Scott Winchester were following the hostess to one of Angie's tables.

After the Winchesters were seated, Angie turned away from Nancy and Hannah, stopping the hostess as she passed by. “I can't serve that party,” Angie said, sounding desperate. “Please put them somewhere else.”

“That's the only free table, and they've been waiting for twenty minutes,” the hostess said.

Angie's face was white with tension. “You don't understand.
I absolutely can't serve them!”

The hostess's eyes hardened. “Sorry, but you've got to.”

Angie stood still, her lips quivering. Without warning she untied her apron, dropped it to the floor, and ran out of the restaurant.

A
STONISHED,
N
ANCY WATCHED
Angie rush out of the restaurant.

“Do you know what's wrong, Nan?” Hannah asked.

“I have no idea.” Nancy studied the Winchesters, wondering which of them Angie couldn't stand, father or son. The two men were so involved in a discussion—or was it an argument?—that they apparently hadn't noticed anyone else in the restaurant.

Nancy couldn't imagine what Angie could have against Walt Winchester, but Scott was easy. He was so handsome, so arrogant. His smile was forced, even with his father.

What was the connection between Angie and Scott? Maybe he'd asked her out, or dated her for
a while, then dumped her. Whatever it was, he must have treated her badly.

Nancy resolved to ask Barb about it the next day.

Barb called in the morning and suggested a picnic lunch at Mohegan Bluffs. Nancy rode over to the Nature Conservancy near Great Salt Pond to pick her up a little before noon.

“Hi,” Barb said when Nancy stepped into the office to the right of the door. “Let me grab some food out of the refrigerator and we'll be off. I can't wait to show you the cliffs.”

She disappeared into a back room and returned a moment later with a paper bag that she was stuffing in her knapsack.

“How's your work going?” Nancy asked, avoiding the delicate subject of D.J. and Tom.

“Everyone is still upset about the nest that was destroyed,” Barb said as they went out to their mopeds. “All the babies were killed, although it's possible the parents escaped.”

“If they did, will they mate again?” Nancy asked.

“Maybe, but it's late in the breeding season.” Barb mounted her bike. “Enough shop talk. I need to get away and not think about D.J. or Tom or anything. I'd like to try to have a little fun!”

Nancy followed Barb to Center Street and up into the hills toward the southern end of the island. They passed a number of freshwater ponds as well as the airport.

Finally Barb slowed and turned off onto a narrow lane. When it ended, they left their mopeds and followed a path through wild rosebushes to the edge of a high cliff.

“Wow, what a sight,” Nancy said. Off to her left was the redbrick Southeast Lighthouse and before her was a steep cliff that dropped down a couple hundred feet to a rocky shore below. A strong wind was kicking up whitecaps far out and choppy waves rolled into shore.

“I love watching the ocean from here,” Barb said. “Do you realize, if you started swimming from here the first land you'd reach would be Portugal?”

“I'm a good swimmer,
but
 . . .” Nancy smiled.

“Why don't we eat our lunch here, then walk down the path to the beach.”

Nancy checked out the narrow trail that snaked its way down the cliff. “How do you walk down a cliff that's almost vertical?”

“Never fear, the most dangerous part of the trail is the poison ivy growing along the sides.”

Grinning, Nancy said, “Now you've got me worried.”

Barb sat down on the grass and dug their lunch out of her knapsack. “There's a staircase closer to the lighthouse, but I like this spot. Angie and I discovered it, and not too many people know about it.” She shivered slightly and zipped up her windbreaker. “Wow, the wind is strong.”

“The radio said a storm is on the way. It's
supposed to hit sometime this evening,” Nancy said, taking the tuna sandwich Barb handed her.

Barb opened a bag of potato chips, then stared thoughtfully at the high white clouds scudding across the sky. Finally Barb broke the silence and spoke about what was on both of their minds. “I saw D.J. last night. I want to thank you again for rescuing him, Nancy. He's not too swift with words, as you might have noticed, but he
was
grateful.”

“Maybe now he'll talk to me,” Nancy said.

“I asked him to cooperate, but he's funny, full of stiff-necked Yankee pride. Plus, he was really shaken by Tom's death, and furious that anyone could think he might have killed him.”

Nancy took a bite of her sandwich. “But they did fight a lot. Maybe this fight got out of hand and Tom was killed accidentally.”

“Don't let D.J. hear you say that,” Barb warned. “Look, he's building a house not far from here. We'll stop by on our way back, but be careful. Right now he's a keg of dynamite—with a short fuse.”

They were quiet for a while, eating and watching the boats bobbing in the rough water far down below.

“Something odd happened last night,” Nancy said after a few minutes. She told Barb about Angie's strange behavior in the restaurant. “Did Scott and Angie ever date?”

“They sure did,” Barb said. “For a long time.
They met last fall in college, and when Scott dropped out of school this spring and came to Block, Angie followed him as soon as the semester was over. They really seemed to be in love, so I was surprised when they broke up last month.”