Sunny Side Up (Lake Erie Mysteries Book 1) (18 page)

I didn’t know if I was out for ten minutes or ten hours, but when I tried to open my eyes, they felt as if burning needles were piercing my retinas. My ribs were sore and my head was throbbing. Something warm and sticky was congealing in my hair above my left ear. I was lying on a hard surface and a chilly breeze was sliding over my sore cheeks.

Very slowly, the blurred images around me began to take shape. June was at the helm of her houseboat, standing very stiff and looking very nervous. The hatch above the galley table was open, and the breeze I felt on my face was increasing in intensity. Wait. The boat was moving! But that was impossible. Although it was seaworthy, June’s houseboat had never left the dock, at least not under her power. She used the boat strictly as a summertime getaway, a place to kick back, relax, and enjoy leisure times at the dock with her friends. She couldn’t actually drive the thing to save her life. I must still be dreaming.

The gun in Sirena’s hand, though, was very, very, real. Wait. What had she told us? That wasn’t Sirena. What did she say her name was? I was confused, but regardless of the madwoman’s name, her gun was pressing into June’s side, which explained why she looked so uncomfortable. I was trying not to move or make any noise so I could clear my head and take stock of the situation, but after a few minutes of conscious effort, I could no longer tolerate keeping still on the cold, galley floor. I raised my hand, feeling for broken ribs, and then gingerly touched the egg-sized lump on my head. Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes, my mouth was as dry as the sand on the beach, and my nose itched. Concentrating, I stretched my legs out slowly in front of me, trying not to attract attention, but needing to get the blood flowing again. Cautiously, I flexed my ankles and pointed my toes.

Sirena’s unnaturally low monotone voice halted my progress.

“I see you’re finally up from your little siesta, Francesca. Stand up. Now.”

The gun, which was now pointed dead center at my belly, got my immediate attention. I swallowed fiercely, trying to keep the stinging bile from making its way up my esophagus, and put all of my remaining energy into rearranging my posture into an upright position. My immediate surroundings swirled around me like a 70’s psychedelic funhouse; voices were assaulting my ears, bouncing off the walls of some invisible tunnel; and when I tried to speak, all I could manage was a pathetic scratchy, squeak which sounded more like an abandoned kitten than a woman in charge of her own destiny. I finally managed to pull myself up to a sitting position, clinging to the edge of the galley bench seat for support. It took every ounce of concentration to hold my bobble-head still and focus my eyes on my best friend, trying to eliminate the crazy lady from my line of sight.

June caught my gaze as I painfully whispered, “June, what in God’s name is happening here?”

Her ghost-white face was streaked with tears, mascara, and shoe polish. “I think this might be the final act, Francie. This is not Sirena, and there is no hero waiting in the wings. Just do what she says, and maybe we will have a chance to get out of this alive.”

“Shut up! Just shut up, you two drama queens!” Sirena’s evil incarnation whirled around and stalked out of the cabin. Through the open sliding glass door, I saw her holding on to the rail and looking up into the dark starless night.

Directing her voice back toward us in the cabin, she commanded, “Stop here, June.” Senora’s order left no room for discussion or compromise. June pulled back on the throttle and gave me a fearful glance. Senora ducked her head back inside for a second, then instructed in a voice as cold as ice, “All right, all hands on deck, girls. And I mean now!”

June slouched out of the captain’s chair, terror emanating from her every pore, stepped over to where I stood on shaking legs, and slid her arm protectively around me to help me finally get my balance. At that moment, I offered up a silent prayer in thanksgiving for the friend I knew would die trying to save me. The boat bobbed gently from side to side in the dark water, which wasn’t helping the fact I was still wobbly and disoriented. After helping me straighten up, we clung to one another, and together, we walked the short distance out onto the deck where our captor was waiting. Finally, I regained my ability to speak.

“What have you done to Sirena, you witch?”

“She’s dead. I told you. She couldn’t keep her interfering nose out of my affairs, so I did what had to be done. I made sure she was in Ruby’s shop when it burnt.” There was not even a hint of remorse in her voice.

I grabbed June’s hand instinctively. We stood in shocked silence for a second then, in unison, let out a sigh of disbelief, “Noooo!”

Anger boosted my courage to confront her. “How could you? She was your sister. Why would you do these horrible things?”

“Why? For what was coming to me. For what I deserved. For the money that should have been mine. Sirena always had it so easy. She was the golden child, loved by everyone, and everything she touched turned into a success. I had to scratch and claw for every scrap, and no one ever appreciated me, not even my geriatric husband. I had to tolerate that idiot until he died of natural causes, so I could finally enjoy the fortune I had earned. Even after he was dead and buried, I had to fight and scrape to get any of Jerry’s estate. It all should have been mine. I’m the one who smiled at his side, kept track of all his pills, cleaned the drool off his chin, and worst of all, put up with his ridiculous friends.

“But no. It was unbelievable. He cut me out of his will in the end and left everything: his money, his house, his four cars, and all of his assets to his buddies who shared his bizarre fascination. Seriously? The Naked Jugglers’ Foundation? I wasted ten years of my life just to have it all yanked away by those morons. Thankfully, I discovered one important oversight on the part of his legal counsel. My dear hubby’s treasured coin collection somehow didn’t get itemized or catalogued with his other assets. It just would have ended up being auctioned off by those flipping fools anyway.”

We needed to keep her talking until we could come up with something resembling a counter attack. June asked, “What about the guy in black who keeps trying to kill us? And didn’t he try to blow you up as well? Obviously he wasn’t successful, but he can’t be your loyal partner.”

“Oh, you’ve met my friend, Kenneth. He doesn’t look like a brain trust, but he does have a few redeeming qualities. He agreed to help me steal Jerry’s coin stash before the error could be discovered, and it wound up for sale, or worse yet, donated to the juggling jerk-offs. Overmayer has some pretty solid connections out East. He knows some professionals who could help us liquidate the coins into lovely, spendable cash, and the rest, as they say, is history. With the backing of my new friends, I invested in a booming business moving very authentic-looking designer merchandise all over the Midwest.”

June and I were both incredulous. She was first to ask the question that was foremost on my mind. “You were the one selling all those knock-offs? But how?”

I was slowly regaining my focus. My adrenaline had caught up with my fear and anger, and the creative juices were starting to flow again. I had spotted my purse wedged between a chair and a table leg just inside the cabin door. It must have landed there while I was being knocked out and kicked around. I angled my body so I was partially behind June, and while she kept the crazy lady engaged in conversation, I carefully stretched my right leg through the open cabin door. I finally looped my toe under the shoulder strap and painstakingly nudged the bag, willing it to move a little closer to the door.

“So, you were really willing to kill not only your husband, but even your own twin sister, just to get rich? Was it worth it, Senora?”

“Oh, it was worth it. Profits were just starting to roll in on a regular basis. I was already pushing my wares in tourist towns up and down Lake Michigan. I was working from my home base in Chicago. Once I had that market under control, it was time to expand into Lake Erie. I could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Little Miss Perfect had unknowingly laid the groundwork for me with her new little island boutique. And for once, I was actually glad that we were identical in appearance. I was delighted when I saw her beautiful tattoo. How convenient for me. It’s an exact mirror image of my own.”

Senora lifted her black tee shirt to reveal rock-hard abs, a sexy black bra, and an intricate, richly colored scorpion winding its way across her chest.

An image of our evening at the Island House flashed through my mind. I remembered having a fleeting sense that night that something was a bit off. Now, it was crystal clear. The tattoo, the martini, the change in attitude. It was her all along. But I still couldn’t figure out how Senora had taken her sister’s place at the Island House. All I could picture in my mind was that strange look on Sirena’s face as she checked her phone on her way inside the building. It was a combination of fear and excitement, but it really didn’t matter now. No one might ever discover the truth, at least no one who would live to tell the story.

Senora smoothed her shirt back over her toned body and continued her story in a trance-like monologue. For the time being, she seemed to forget that we were even there.

“Once I got Sirena out of my way, which by the way, was entirely too easy, I had the perfect opportunity to start slipping my counterfeit designer goods in with real deliveries all over Kelleys Island. There were lots of products too, not just fashion accessories. I had a nice business going on with the pharmacies as well. Make-up, hair care products, heck, I even had counterfeit prescription drugs. There’s a pretty big market for cheap Viagra around here. It probably doesn’t work, but that’s not my concern.”

I remembered one of the red-circled newspaper articles in Michael’s backpack. It was about an FBI sting uncovering a network of underworld counterfeiters operating out of Chicago and New York. This was starting to make some sense now.

The crazy lady continued her story. “I already had a nice little export business going using Overmayer as my front man, but now that Sirena was gone, I could begin to openly do business myself and get things done much more quickly and efficiently. I had already made contacts at Put-In-Bay and some of the mainland retail and drug establishments and everything was lined up. My dreams were about to come true.”

She stopped talking then. The moment had passed. Senora was back in the present, and she stared at both of us with menacing eyes.

“It was perfect. Things were progressing exactly as I had planned until you two Nancy Drews started to interfere.”

June threw out one last-ditch attempt to keep her distracted while I tried desperately to get at my handbag, with the faint hope that I could somehow manage to come up with something that might buy us a little time.

“How did you do it, Senora? I mean, how did you trade places with your sister, right under our noses? You must be a real pro at this criminal stuff. It took a lot a nerve trying something like that right in front of a real detective!”

June must have struck a chord, appealing to Senora’s twisted vanity because she jumped at the chance to extol her evil skills.

“Oh, that law man has nothing on me. You all just made it way too easy. I sent my clueless sister a text message instructing her to meet me in front of Inscription Rock. It was an emergency, and she should come right away. No time for good-byes. We hadn’t spoken in eight years, and that brainless fool actually thought I wanted to see her and have a little family reunion. What I wanted, though, was to give her a permanent going away party.”

“But if it was you who joined us after dinner, how did you know what to wear? You were dressed exactly like Sirena.”

“I am a very patient and methodical person. I have been working my plan in the shadows for a very long time now. It just amazes me how oblivious everyone is around here. No one locks their doors. People trust their neighbors. I walked in and out of Sirena’s house so many times while she was at work, and no one ever questioned me. Instead, they waved to me! It was easy to sneak into her room and inventory her closet and drawers. I even copied her shampoo, soap, make-up, and perfume in case I needed to cozy up to her new boyfriend. After old, decrepit, Jerry, Mr. Sterling might have been a nice change of pace. I never did get the chance to find out for sure though.

“It was lucky for me Sirena was so gung-ho on supporting the local economy. Nearly everything she owned came from local vendors or else she made it herself. I’ll miss her hand-made soaps and lotions. They were actually very good. I thought it was very generous of me to share some of her last products with you, don’t you agree? For the rest of her belongings, I just made sure to purchase my duplicate items on different shifts than the ones she shopped. And then I watched. You two aren’t the only ones who can master a passable disguise.”

“Can’t you please just let us go? We won’t tell anyone about this, and you can just disappear. No one else has to be hurt.” June’s last-ditch effort seemed to have run its course. It looked like the conversation was about to end for good.

“It’s too late for that now. Sirena is dead. Clueless Clifton will soon be making his way to Davey Jones’ Locker. If he hasn’t already drowned, it won’t take long for him to die of hypothermia, and Francie, your darling Hammond’s body should be discovered in the old fish gutting shanty near the docks on the island’s north end one of these days. Once the two of you disappear, good old Detective Morgan might have his suspicions, but he’ll never be able to put all of the pieces together or prove I was connected to any of it, and I will be in the clear forever.