Sea Salt Caramel Murder (A Maple Hills Cozy Mystery Book 4) (8 page)

Hawk whistled in the air. “You are a sly one,” he told Nikki, “but still, Nikki, it could be that the man's watch just stopped.”

Nikki gave Hawk a 'do-you-really-believe-that?' look. “We better get to Mr. Lane's cabin. I'm sure he'll be there by now. I've spooked him, Hawk. From here on out, I doubt he'll be on the bridge. He's going to avoid me at all cost.”

“Okay,” Hawk said, taking out his gun. “Let's go trap a rat.”

“Not a rat,” Nikki corrected Hawk. “Mr. Lane is a man who is simply very disturbed.”

“Disturbed or not, he's a killer, Nikki. Let's go.”

“
M
y dear
,” Brody said, placing a cold washcloth onto the forehead of a delicate Chinese woman lying very ill on a soft, king-sized bed, “it won't be long now before your suffering will end. I've gone through great trouble to get where we are right now, but it was worth it. We're together—we'll be together forever.”

The Chinese woman, resting unconsciously in a pink robe, didn't reply. Instead, she moaned painfully in her sleep. Brody brushed a sweaty bang from her eyes. “That woman, that Ms. Bates, she's a clever one. She has me all figured out. I saw that when I was up on the bridge,” he told his wife in an angry, bitter voice. “But they won't find the bomb. And they won't escape this storm. Oh yes, I've put us right in the middle of this storm, honey. No one will escape; everyone will perish along with us. It has to be that way. Too many crew members understand who I am. They think I'm a putz; they think I'm responsible for sinking the
Blue Pearl
. Oh, they'll pay, with their lives. I've got the bomb set just right. When it explodes, the sea will rush in and pull us under, I promise. Two hours to go...”

Brody stood up, walked into the bathroom connected to his small cabin, doused the washcloth with cold water again, and returned to his wife. “We're almost to the spot where we first met, remember?” he asked his wife, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath of the menthol vapor rub he had massaged onto his wife's chest, Brody smiled down at his wife's sleeping face as tears began to fall from his eyes. “I went out on deck to get some fresh air. It was midnight. The moon was full. I saw you standing alone. Oh, you were so beautiful, honey...I fell in love with you right then and there.”

Brody wiped at his tears. “Not long now, honey. We're going to die in the same spot we met. Well, maybe not the same spot, but close. This storm is throwing us off course a little, but no matter.” Brody sighed. “You know, I really didn't want to kill Mayfield or Rowen, but that cop—Daily... He didn't know, but I saw him listening when I spoke with Mayfield outside the dining room about the storm. I had to play it real cool, honey, real cool.” Brody paused and then sighed miserably. “Oh, who am I kidding? I panicked. I killed Mayfield because I was scared that cop was sent on board to arrest me—foolish paranoia. But if I killed Mayfield, then attention would be taken off me, don't you see? And then Rowen, he caught me checking on the bomb in the medical bay. I had to kill him, honey, you see? I had to. I've been real smart. I've managed to keep us on course, give or take, and so what if that nosy woman knows about the bomb. What can they do about it? Sure, they sent that brat kid looking for my bomb, but he'll never find it.”

Confused and angry, Brody stood up and began to pace around his cabin. The cabin was small, cramped and filled with cheap furnishings. “Ugly room,” Brody fussed, running his hands through his hair. Shaking his head, he stopped pacing and looked at his wife. “I never could lie to you, could I? You're seeing straight through me. You always could. The truth is, honey, I'm cracking up. Sure, I knew that cop overheard my talk with Mayfield, but so what? What could he really do? I killed Mayfield because I wanted to, because I despised the man. I panicked afterward, and that's when I wrote that note. I knew that cop would insist I take this ship back to port. And Rowen, I could have handled him differently, but...” Brody balled his hands into two tight fists. “He mocked me, he always mocked me. He deserved to die. They all do, don't you see? They all mock me, honey. They think I'm a joke—sure, good ol' Brody, the man who sank the
Blue Pearl
and became the lackey of a criminal.”

Brody punched the left wall of his cabin. Then he looked at his wife. Feeling his anger intensify, he punched the wall again. “Mayfield knew I needed money for your treatments, but did he care? No. As long as I did as he told me and made sure his precious cargo was delivered into the hands of thieves and criminals, I got paid. He didn't care that you were dying—no one does! No one cares that your doctor has given you a year to live, to live in pain and misery. No, I had to end it, honey. Tonight we die together, and those people who mocked me, they will suffer their fate.”

Brody walked back to his wife's bed and sat down. As he did, Hawk kicked open the cabin door. “Freeze!” he yelled at Brody.

Taken off guard, Brody jumped to his feet. Startled, he stared at Hawk. His mind quickly jumped into action. “What is this all about? How dare you?” he yelled. “My wife is a very sick woman!”

Nikki eased past Hawk. “Mr. Lane,” she pleaded, “we know you set the bomb. We know you killed Captain Mayfield and Dr. Rowen. Please, don't take any more innocent lives.”

Feeling a click in his mind, Brody exploded. “Innocent lives? What about my wife's life?” he yelled at Nikki. “Look at her! She's suffering! And who cares? Did Mayfield or Rowen care? Yes, I killed them, and I enjoyed it. And tonight, everyone will suffer, the same way my wife has suffered!”

“Where is the bomb, Lane?” Hawk demanded.

“At midnight you'll find out,” Brody yelled at Hawk. Sitting down on the bed, he took his wife's hand. “Place me under arrest, but allow me to stay at my wife's side. I'm not going anywhere. I want to die at her side, holding her hand. We will drown together as husband and wife.”

Nikki drew in a deep breath. Walking over to a flimsy wooden chest, she carefully lifted the lid. Bending down, she reached in and retrieved three bamboo darts and a small, glass medical vial holding a deadly green poison. “Mr. Lane,” she said, standing up, “Let me help you. It's obvious you have had a nervous breakdown. Detective Daily and I will help you if—”

“Help me?” Brody interrupted Nikki, lowering his voice almost to a whisper. “Lady, you're the one that needs help. Your only chance is to get up to the lifeboats. But even if you did get off the ship, the sea would swallow you up. You see, I've made sure no one can escape. I want everyone to suffer the same way my wife and I have been suffering. Oh, they'll pay. They'll all pay.”

Hawk lowered his gun. It was clear to him that Brody was no longer a physical threat. As Nikki had claimed, the man was broken, mentally and emotionally. Desperate to save innocent lives, Hawk spotted a Bible lying on a wooden desk. Calmly, he walked over to the desk and picked it up with his left hand. “Your wife is a Christian?” he asked.

“Yes,” Brody answered raising his eyes to Hawk. “Put down my wife's Bible, do you hear me?”

“Is this what she would want from you?” Hawk asked Brody. “Before you answer me, look down into your wife's face and ask yourself, is this what she wants?”

Brody lowered his eyes onto his wife's lovely face. Suddenly, tears began falling from his eyes. “She's dying, and no one cared. I want them all to suffer the way she has suffered, the way I have suffered. They've mocked me, and I've had to withstand the pain because I needed money to pay for my wife's medical treatments. I've become a criminal, Detective, and you dare ask me is this what my wife wants? At least now it's all coming to an end. I'm doing this for her.”

“Killing innocent people isn't what your wife wants,” Nikki told Brody in a caring voice. “Mr. Lane, please, let us help you.”

Brody shook his head no. “At midnight this ship and everyone aboard is going to die. And who will hear their cries? Who will hear their screams? No one—just like no one heard my cries and my screams.”

Hawk walked over to Brody and handed him his wife's Bible. “Take the Bible,” he said.

Brody took his wife's Bible. “Leave us alone,” he told Hawk.

“Come on, Nikki,” Hawk said, “let's leave them alone. There's nothing we can do here. Our best bet is to search for the bomb.”

Nikki placed the bamboo darts and poison into the front pocket of her dress. “I'm sorry, Mr. Lane, for your suffering. You may not believe that, but I am.”

Nikki began to walk away, but a weak, faint, voice began speaking. “No...don't.” Brody's wife spoke in a pained voice. “Brody...”

“It's okay, I'm here,” Brody promised his wife, taking her hand. “You rest, honey. Everything is okay.”

“No...bomb...heaven...we won't...together…” Brody's wife said as her eyes struggled to open. Unable to open her eyes, the woman began breathing heavily. “Heaven...promise...don't...bomb...” And then the woman stopped breathing altogether.

“No!” Brody yelled, jumping to his feet. Putting the Bible down into the bed, he began doing CPR on his wife. “Help me—somebody help me!” he yelled as tears stormed from his eyes.

Hawk grabbed Brody, pushed him aside, and yelled at Nikki: “You breathe for her; I'll do the chest compressions.”

Nikki jumped into action. Running to the bed, she carefully got into place as Hawk began doing chest compressions on the dead woman. “No...” Brody cried, backing up to the left wall. “No!” Feeling his spirit begin to die, he watched as Hawk and Nikki worked to bring his wife back to life. And then, just when all hope was lost, Nikki yelled, “She's breathing!”

“What?” Brody yelled and ran back to his wife. Looking down at the bed, he saw his wife begin breathing on her own. “But how? She...”

Hawk placed a caring hand on Brody's shoulder. “People do care,” he said, breathing hard. “We may all die tonight, Lane, but not everyone who is going to die is your enemy.”

Brody slowly turned his head and looked at Hawk. He didn't see a man who was his enemy. Instead, he saw a decent, honest, man—the type of man he himself used to be. Looking down at his wife, at her pale, sick face, he began to cry. “My wife has one year to live.”

“Let us help you,” Hawk pleaded with Brody. “Let us be your friends.”

“You'll send me to prison,” Brody said. Through his tears, he glanced down at the gun Hawk had shoved down into the belt holster on his hip before doing CPR on his wife. With fast hands, he grabbed the gun. “Get out,” he told Hawk and Nikki, aiming the gun at Hawk's chest. “I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't get out, I will kill you both.”

Hawk stared into Brody's eyes. It was clear the man was insane, suffering from a dysfunctional emotional state that had transformed him into a deadly killer. “Come on Nikki, let's—”

“Wait!” Brody yelled, turning the gun in his hands on Nikki. “Give me back my poison. I don't want to hurt you, but I'm sorry, you both have to die. I can't let you walk out of here alive.”

Nikki looked at Hawk. Hawk bit down on his lower lip. Kicking himself for allowing his gun to be taken, he desperately searched for a way out but could find no exit. Watching Brody ease over to the cabin door to close it, he knew once the door was closed, he and Nikki were both dead. That's when a hand reached through the door, smacked the gun out of Brody's hand and then punched the man in the face. Brody stumbled backward toward Hawk. Hawk grabbed him and slung him down onto the floor. “Good timing,” he told Herbert, placing handcuffs on Brody.

Herbert stepped into the cabin with Lidia following behind him. “My wife and I have talked,” he told Nikki in an apologetic voice. “Can you forgive me for being a fool?”

Nikki ran to Herbert and hugged him. “You're my hero, not a fool,” she said.

“How did you two know we were here?” Hawk asked.

“We went to the bridge,” Lidia explained. “A nice man said that Mr. Lane had gone to check on the passengers, but most likely would check on his wife first. He told us what deck Mr. Lane's cabin was on.”

Nikki let go of Herbert and hugged Lidia. “We still have a bomb to worry about.”

“You'll never find the bomb,” Brody yelled. “Everyone is going to die; everyone is going to suffer.”

“Medical…” Brody's wife struggled to speak.

Nikki ran to bed. “Ma’am, can you hear me? Please, where is the bomb?”

“Medical...” Brody's wife managed to say through heavy breaths, “Rowen...” Unable to say any more, the woman fell unconscious.

“Medical? Rowen?” Nikki whispered checking the woman's pulse with loving hands. “Her pulse is weak but stable.”

“What was she trying to tell us?” Hawk asked Nikki.

Herbert and Lidia looked at each other for answers but were unable to help. “All I heard her say was the word 'medical' and the name 'Rowen,’” Lidia told Hawk.

Nikki stared down at Brody's wife, into the woman's sleeping face. “Medical...Rowen...” she whispered, and then the answer came to her. “The bomb is in the medical bay! Hawk, go find Mr. Johnson and meet me there. Lidia, Herbert, stay here and watch Mr. Lane and his wife.”

Before Herbert or Lidia could respond, Nikki was already on her feet and dashing out of the cabin. On nervous legs, she rushed through the ship, fighting to stay balanced as the ship struggled through the stormy sea like a battered soldier trying to make his way back to a safe foxhole. When she reached the medical bay, she rushed in. Ignoring Captain Mayfield's and Dr. Rowen’s bodies, she stood very still as her eyes searched the medical bay. “Where could the bomb be?” she asked herself.

Cautiously, she walked around without touching anything as her eyes wandered. “Where would you hide a bomb, Mr. Lane?” Nikki asked aloud. Feeling cold air coming down from the metal duct attached to the ceiling, Nikki looked up. Spotting three vents attached to the metal duct, she raised her hands into the air. Something wasn't right. The vent she was standing under, the vent closest to the door, was pushing out a steady stream of air. But when she had walked past the vent located at the back of the medical bay, Nikki had felt no cold air.

Curiously, she walked back to the vent located on the back wall and raised her hands. No air was coming from the vent. “Something is blocking the air from coming out...” Feeling fear grip her stomach, Nikki ran to the desk, grabbed the desk chair, and dragged it back to the vent. Praying for good balance, she stood up on the chair, reached up, and, with scared hands, removed the metal vent covering without much struggle. Dropping the vent covering down onto the floor, Nikki placed her hands against the metal duct for better balance, leaned up onto her tippy-toes, and peered into it. And there, sitting in the duct, was a bomb, glowing with red and green lights.

“Nikki!” Hawk yelled, running into the medical bay with Mr. Johnson behind him.