Canyons of Night

Chapter 18

“HOW DID YOUR DATE WITH CHARLOTTE GO LAST night?” Myrna asked from the doorway of the office.

Slade did not look up from the list of names on the computer screen. “If one more person asks me that question, I may have to fire everyone in the department.”

Rex was on the desk. He had his beaded clutch open and was busy selecting paperclips to go inside. He paused long enough to chortle a greeting to Myrna. She went to the desk and patted him a couple of times. Then she studied Slade.

“Fire everyone, hmm?” she said. “All two of us?”

“Yes.”

“Did things go that badly or that well?”

He pretended that he had not heard the question. “Where’s Willis? Did he finish checking out the alibis of Gaines’s known associates?”

Kirk Willis materialized in the doorway. “Just finished the last one, Chief.” He walked into the office and put a file folder down in front of Slade. “None of the people on your list seems to have been anywhere near the island in the past year, let alone on the night Gaines died. What’s our next move?”

Slade turned away from the screen and opened the folder. “There’s a rule that applies to situations like this. It comes from an Old World investigator, Sherlock somebody. Something to the effect that once you have excluded the probable, whatever remains, however improbable, is the answer.”

Myrna frowned. “What the heck does that mean?”

“It means,” Slade said, “that there’s a high probability that our killer is still here on the island.”

Kirk and Myrna stared at him, disbelief in their eyes.

“You really think so?” Kirk asked, dubious but intrigued.

“Yes,” Slade said.

“I can’t believe that any of the locals is a killer,” Myrna said slowly. “This is such a small town. Everyone knows everyone else.”

“You’re forgetting the B&Bs that are scattered around the island and the folks attending those Reflection Retreats out at the lake lodge,” Slade reminded her. “We can get the names and addresses of the guests from the innkeepers.”

“What, exactly, are we looking for?” Myrna asked. “We already know most of them probably don’t have solid alibis. Any one of them could have snuck out of a B&B or the lodge and met up with Gaines at Looking Glass.”

“But most of them probably aren’t serious collectors of the kind of antiques that Charlotte handles,” Slade said.

Kirk brightened. “You want me to see if I can find out if any of them are collectors?”

“I want to know about any connections at all that any of them might have to the antique or antiquities trade.”

“I can do that,” Kirk said.

“I know you can,” Slade said. “But do it quietly. I don’t want the killer to get the idea that we think we have a murder on our hands or that we’re looking for him on the island. He’ll be gone on the next ferry and we might lose him altogether.”

“What makes you think he didn’t leave the day after the murder?” Myrna asked.

“I don’t think he got what he wanted,” Slade said. “He stuck around because as far as he knows there is no murder investigation going on. He feels safe. We want him to continue to feel that way.”

“I’m on it,” Willis said. He straightened away from the doorjamb, preparing to head out.

“One more thing,” Slade said. “Good work on these alibis. I know that some of the people on that list were very low profile. I’m impressed that you were able to confirm their whereabouts on the night of the murder.”

Kirk reddened a little. “Yeah, well, I’ve always liked working on a computer.”

“Good skill to have on this job. Get back to me as soon as you’ve got some information on the island guests.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kirk turned and went briskly down the hall. A moment later the front door closed behind him.

Myrna gave Slade a knowing smile. “Young Officer Willis has certainly developed a lot more enthusiasm for the law enforcement profession since you arrived on the island. I think he’s starting to feel like a real cop.”

“It’s his first murder investigation,” Slade said. “The experience tends to have that effect.”

“Actually, I think it may be the first murder investigation we’ve had on the island since Letty Porter decided she’d had enough of her husband getting drunk and beating up on her. She got him drunk one last time, drove him to Death Wish Point, and pushed him off. They never did find the body. That was almost twenty years ago.”

“What happened to Letty Porter?”

“She’s still here. Has a cabin out on Higgins Road. She’s in her seventies now. Chief Halstead was new on the job at the time. He was never able to prove murder. Not that he tried real hard. As far as everyone around here was concerned, George Porter had it coming. He was one mean drunk.”

Slade leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the desktop. “She killed once.”

“Forget it,” Myrna said. “Take my word for it, Letty Porter has absolutely no interest in antiques. And knowing Letty, even if she had wanted to kill Gaines for some reason, she would have used the nearest blunt object.”

“All the same, see if you can find out where she was on the night Gaines died.”

“Okay.” Myrna glanced at her watch. “It’s not quite four o’clock. I can take a run out to her place right now.”

“Do that.”

Myrna started to step back from the doorway. She hesitated. “You know, I’m starting to get a little worried about Devin and Nate.”

“Wasn’t this the day of the big treasure hunt?”

“Yes, but they left early this morning,” Myrna said. “I expected them back by lunchtime. They’ve only got a few energy bars and some bottled water with them. They’re thirteen-year-old boys. They should be starving by now.”

“Maybe they’re living off the land.”

“Trust me, a few summer berries wouldn’t do it for boys that age. I called Nate’s mom a short time ago. Laurinda said she had expected them back earlier, too, but she wasn’t worried.”

“You are?”

“Devin’s a city kid. He doesn’t know his way around the island.”

“Nate does.”

“I know.” Myrna nibbled on her lower lip. “I’m being overly protective, aren’t I?”

“He’s a growing boy. He needs to spread his wings. This island is a lot safer place to do that than the big city.”

“I know that, too.”

“But you’re still worried.”

“It’s just that I’ve had this weird feeling since this morning.” Myrna sighed. “There are some dangerous places on the island. Steep cliffs. Rip currents in the coves and inlets. What if one of the boys fell?”

“The other would have come back to town to get help,” Slade said.

“What if they tried to get through the fence and got lost inside the Preserve?”

“When was the last time an island kid got through the fence?”

Myrna sighed. “It’s never happened as far as I know.”

“The fence works, Myrna,” Slade said.

At least it did when it came to keeping out those with no measurable levels of talent, he thought. Devin, with his newly stirring senses, might have been tempted to try to get inside but Nate would not have made it. If Devin had managed to get lost in the Preserve, Nate would have raced back to town to report the problem.

“There are other things that can happen to a couple of kids alone,” Myrna said.

“It’s okay to worry,” he said.

“Gee, thanks for that, boss. I feel so much better now.”

“Sorry,” Slade said. “That wasn’t very reassuring, was it? Look, Devin said that he and Nate were going to Hidden Beach to do their treasure hunting. They would have taken Merton Road. You could drive out there and see how they’re getting on for yourself.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t check up on Devin. He would be absolutely mortified if I did that to him in front of Nate.”

“True. I’ll tell you what, I’ll drive out there and take a look.”

Myrna looked inordinately grateful. “Thanks, Chief. I really appreciate this.”

Slade looked at Rex. “Let’s go, buddy.”

Sensing a new adventure, Rex chortled, grabbed his clutch, and bounded up onto Slade’s shoulder.

Slade looked at Myrna. “It has been suggested that hanging out with a dust bunny who carries a purse might have a negative impact on my image as a hard-core crime fighter.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Myrna said. “It’s a very nice clutch.”