Part 2 of 6

As they jostle at the door, Dwayne asks, "Eh? Whatchoo mean, all the clues? What clues?"

Fidel ushers them carefully inside, everyone very aware of where they step, touching nothing, trying to look everywhere at once, and he points to the dish-drainer beside the kitchen sink. "Look, one plate, one glass, one set of cutlery. Are these breakfast or supper dishes?"

Camille huffs a breath, "Those are his supper dishes. He only uses a smaller plate and a knife for his toast in the mornings along with a cup for tea." This earns her inquisitive looks but she doesn't care, "So, he came home, had supper, then what?"

Fidel nods, "He was here until it got dark."

Again Dwayne has to ask, "How ya figure that?"

Fidel points up the little set of steps into the main room, "All his lamps are on; bedside, table, desk, and veranda. The Chief would never go to bed and leave all the lights on."

As the trio ease up the steps, taking it all in, Camille hushes, "No, he never would."

"Yeah," Dwayne adds, "the Commissioner would dock his pay fer the extra electrical charges."

The officers can see for themselves that the bed is made to military precision, pillows punched, everything shipshape and Bristol fashion, everything accounted for… except for the man himself. And there, on the bedside table, sits his cell phone.

"Well," Dwayne drawls, "now we know why he ain't answerin' his phone."

Fidel steps up to the little sitting area in the middle of the room and whispers, "And then… there's this." His hand sweeps down to hover over a book.

Dwayne looks at the book then up to Fidel, "What? That? Itsa book!" He gestures to the room, "Look around you, man! This place is fulla books. How can a book be suspicious in THIS room?" Then he sees the look on Fidel's face… which exactly matches the look on Camille's face. "What?" he barks, "What ain't I gettin' here? Tell me!"

Camille reaches down slowly, runs a fingertip along the spine of the book. Dwayne is concerned to see her finger is trembling. "Look at the book," she mutters.

Dwayne looks, sees nothing, "So? It's just layin' there like he put it down to go do somethin'…"

Fidel intones, "That's just it, Dwayne! It's lying face down with no care to the spine. He once told me that books have to be handled like a bad back, with kid gloves so the pages don't misalign. He also never leaves them lying open. He even uses bookmarks, vellum bookmarks, so as not to bruise the pages or abrade the type."

Dwayne sighs sadly, "Yeah, that sure sounds like the Chief, a'right. Worryin' more 'bout books than his own self." Hands to hips, he growls, "So, what do we think so far?"

Camille does a slow 360, saying low, "He came home, had supper, did the dishes. It got dark so he turned on the lights and started to read… but he never went to bed. Something made him put the book down in a rush… he went out into the dark… but he didn't… didn't come back?"

Fidel chews his lip, "Um, I think the 'something' might have been a visitor."

Camille doesn't like the sound of that, not at all. "What? Why do you say that?" she snaps.

Fidel begins leading them out to the veranda, "Well, come tell me what you think." They follow him outside to stand looking down at the wobbly little bistro table.

Dwayne blinks, blinks again then shrugs, "So? I don't see nuthin' out o' the ordinary…"

Camille gulps, "That's because we're all slobs compared to him, Dwayne. Look at the chairs."

Dwayne does, "I see two chairs facin' the ocean, so?"

Camille nods, "Yes, two chairs pulled out and…"

Fidel nods, "… and the Chief never pushed them back to the table like he always does. You know him, Dwayne…"

Together all three recite in hushed unison, "… always checking the furniture."

"Right," Camille says, casting narrow-eyed looks up and down the beach, "did you find anything on the beach, Fidel? Clothing? Shoes? Towels?"

At this, Dwayne perks up, "Eh? You think maybe the Chief went swimmin' after dark with someone? The CHIEF?! C'mon, Camille! He's come a long way here on the island but even THAT is a step too far!" He shakes his head and mutters, "The Chief. Swimmin'. No way."

Fidel shakes his head, "No, I only got to the west end. No sign of anything. Fortunately, that's the long end. I was just going to go east when…" He stops and points east, "Hey! Isn't that the 'Roast Beef' way down there? What's it doing so far from the house?"

The team rush down to the sand, once again very careful where they step, as they jog smartly to the little boat pulled up above the tide-line about 200 yards east of the house. When they near it, they all slow down, fearful to see what they might see.

Dwayne puts up warding hands, motioning the other two to hang back, "Here, lemme go first, in case…" He eases forward, craning his neck, then stops and simply stands stiffly.

After a few moments, Camille all but yelps, "Well? Is he in there? Is he alive? Is he…"

Dwayne shakes his head, "He ain't here… but there's somethin' I'm not sure I'm really seein'…"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" she grouses with annoyed relief and pushes past the man to stare down into the little boat… and freezes her own self.

Fidel can't take the suspense and pushes in, "What are you two looking at? What…"

Now they all stare down into the little boat… at a smear of blood on the middle seat… at an empty wine bottle and two wine glasses… at a single oar… at a pair of ladies leather sandals.

In Richard Poole's boat.

After several moments of stunned silence, Camille whispers, "My shoes. My missing shoes. What are THEY doing here?"

Dwayne cocks an eyebrow, "Eh? Those're your shoes? You sure?"

Camille nods jerkily, "Of course I'm sure! I paid a fortune for them. I've had them re-heeled twice! I looked everywhere for them this morning. No wonder I couldn't find them. How did they get here? I wasn't here last night." Now she looks up to the clouds as if dazed as well as confused, "Was I?"

Then she sets her determined little chin and faces them, "Look, I know this is going to sound as guilty and suspicious as hell and I probably should have said something sooner but…" she takes a deep breath and blurts out, "… I have no memory of last night after I got to La Kaz for supper. I don't remember how I got home. I didn't even make it to bed. I woke up this morning on my couch wearing yesterday's clothes and…" she gulps, "… I have no memory of any of it."

She looks at the two agog men then whispers, "I'm in trouble, here, aren't I?"

END – part 2