Deception Cove

Chapter 27

“I REMEMBER THE DEAD GUY NOW.” SYLVIA BENETZ peered at the card she had taken out of a file box. “Checked in as Fred Smith. Paid cash. Didn’t see him the next morning. Just assumed he left on the early ferry. I didn’t worry about it at the time. After all, he’d paid for the room.”

Alice studied the card that Sylvia set on the inn’s front desk. She was not the only one examining it. A sizeable crowd was gathered around the desk. In addition to Drake, Kirk Willis, Myrna, Rachel, Charlotte, and Dr. Harrison were present.

Houdini and Darwina were the only ones who did not show any interest in the murder investigation. They were out in the street in front of the inn, learning how to play hide-and-seek with the half dozen children left in town.

The fog had retreated for the day, leaving behind another heavy sky. The parents of the kids had all agreed that the little ones needed to work off excess energy, and the dust bunnies were thrilled to take on the role of camp counselors. With a natural talent for turning anything and everything into a game, they had picked up the essential concepts of hide-and-seek almost immediately. Shouts of laughter interspersed by short bursts of hushed silence were followed by excited chortling and more giggles echoing through the partially deserted town.

“That’s not the address of Samson Crisp and Associates,” Alice said.

Kirk glanced at the card. “He was using a fake name so he went with a fake address, as well. Not that it matters now that we’ve got a positive ID. Damn. This is a genuine homicide. Too bad the chief isn’t here. He was FBPI. He knows how to run a murder investigation.”

“Well, Slade isn’t here, so we’re on our own,” Myrna said. She gave Drake a narrow-eyed look. “But this is Foundation Security business, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Drake said. “It is. Normally Harry would handle a Preserve-connected murder, but since he and Attridge aren’t around, I’ll take the lead.” He paused for a beat. “If that’s okay with you and Kirk?”

“Fine by me,” Myrna said. “Crisp wasn’t a local and it doesn’t look like the perp was from the island, either. Not our problem.”

Kirk gave a clipped nod of his head. “As the only representative of the Foundation available at the moment, sir, you’re in charge. But you need to keep Myrna and me in the loop. The chief will want a full report when he gets back.”

“Understood,” Drake said. He turned to the doctor. “What can you tell us, Dr. Forester?”

“Call me Ed,” Forester said. “And I don’t have squat for you. No visible wounds. If Sylvia had found Crisp’s body in one of the rooms upstairs, I would have said the guy had suffered a heart attack or a stroke.”

“Just like Fulton,” Alice said quietly.

With the exception of Drake, everyone looked at her.

“My ex,” she explained.

“Oh, right,” Rachel said. “The guy you spent your first honeymoon with here on Rainshadow.”

Alice flushed. “It was just an MC.”

Drake stepped into the short, awkward silence. “Given the facts, I think we can assume that Crisp was killed with the same weapon that was used on Fulton Whitcomb.”

Kirk’s jaw hardened into a grim line. “Alien technology?”

“I think so,” Drake said. “A couple of the people involved in this thing—Zara Tucker and Aldwin Hampstead—had access to a lot of Alien artifacts.”

“I don’t get it,” Charlotte said. “If the killer knew the death would look like natural causes, why would he go to the trouble of concealing the body in the freezer?”

“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Drake said. “First, he wanted to buy some time. He had to know that the body would be identified fairly quickly once it was discovered. It wasn’t like Crisp was working under deep cover. He just checked in with a fake name and address.”

Alice nodded. “And once the body was identified, there was a strong possibility that someone back in Resonance—Crisp’s last client, for example—would start asking questions about why he had gone to Rainshadow and what he’d found there. Said client might have gone to the police with her suspicions and convinced them to reopen the investigation.”

Myrna arched her brows. “Crisp’s last client being you.”

“Yep.”

Sylvia shook her head. “Told Burt ages ago that he needed to clean out that freezer.”

“What about the killer?” Drake said. He studied the handful of cards on file. “Doesn’t look like there were a lot of other folks staying here the night Crisp checked in.”

“It was off-season,” Sylvia said. “We weren’t booked solid. Looks like mostly couples, though.” She paused. “Here’s a single man. Roger Carter. Gave a Resonance City address and paid cash, too. One night only. Left early the following morning.”

“We think the killer is a man named Aldwin Hampstead,” Alice said. “He’s a museum director and he looks the part. Mid-thirties, slender, blond hair, good looking in a polished, classy sort of way. He would have been well dressed and rather aloof.”

“Huh.” Sylvia snapped the registration card against the desktop a couple of times and looked thoughtful. “I don’t think this is your guy. Hampstead sounds like someone I would remember. But I can’t recall anything in particular about Roger Carter. Medium height, medium build. Very ordinary type, I guess.”

“Damn,” Drake said softly. “Sounds like Zara Tucker found herself a pro.”

Everyone looked at him.

“A professional hit man who knows how to fade into the background,” Drake explained. “The kind of guy no one remembers.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s definitely not Aldwin Hampstead.”