“So how did he get it?” R.J. asked. “More dogs, more tourists?”
Phyllis gave a little smile. “Now you’ve hit on one of the great mysteries of this island. Fenny hasn’t worked a day since his thirty-second birthday. All he does is make babies, but he’s always got money. I could tell you stories that—” She cut herself off to give a yawn that nearly made her come out of the top of her nightgown. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m exhausted. I must get to bed.” With that, she went up the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door.
“What a rude woman!” Ariel said in a tone that made it sound as though rudeness was the worst condemnation in the world.
Sara didn’t know about the others, but she was so tired she could have stretched out on the stairs and fallen asleep.
David smiled at her. “After you.”
Upstairs, they stood for a moment looking at the bedrooms, but didn’t move. “My kingdom for a toothbrush,” Sara said.
“Should I ask to borrow one from Phyllis?” R.J. asked.
“You enter that woman’s bedroom and you won’t come out alive,” Ariel said in absolute seriousness.
“Sounds good to me,” R.J. said.
Sara was too tired to care about the men’s lusting after that dreadful woman and took a step toward the bathroom, but Ariel beat her to it. She slipped into the room and shut the door before Sara could take a step. She leaned against the door and sighed.
“So how do we split the bedrooms?” R.J. asked.
David looked puzzled, but Sara knew what R.J. meant. “Boys in one, girls in the other,” she said.
“Darn!” R.J. said, and Sara smiled.
The three of them were standing just outside the bathroom door so they could hear everything that Ariel was doing inside. Water running, toilet flushing. Sara stepped away from the door. “Remind me to be extra quiet when I’m in there.”
In the next second, they heard a loud thump from inside the bathroom. It sounded as though Ariel had fallen.
“Ariel?” Sara said through the door. “Are you all right?” There was no answer. “Ariel?” Still no answer. She tried the doorknob. Locked. She rattled the door handle.
R.J. stepped forward. “I don’t think we should wake our landlady.” He turned the doorknob hard, but it didn’t open. He looked at her. “Sometimes in these old houses, the same key works on all the locks.”
He didn’t have to say more. Seconds later, Sara was back with a key taken from one of the bedroom doors and he inserted it into the lock. It wouldn’t go in. Squatting, he looked through the keyhole. “The key’s in the lock on the inside. I need to get it out.”
“Let me try,” David said. He had taken a wire coat hanger out of a closet and twisted it open. Kneeling beside R.J., he worked the wire into the lock, and seconds later they heard the key hit the tile floor inside the bathroom. To their ears it sounded very loud and all three of them held their breath. Would Ms. Vancurren hear?
When they heard nothing from downstairs, R.J. looked through the keyhole. Whatever he saw made his shoulders tighten and the back of his neck redden.
“What is it?” Sara whispered.
R.J. stood up while David put the bedroom key in the bathroom door lock. “Let’s get it open as fast as we can,” R.J. said and Sara knew that something was wrong with Ariel. A sense of panic came over her. If something was wrong, who could they call for help? The King’s Isle police?
The key worked and David opened the bathroom door. Lying on the floor, clothed only in her underwear, was Ariel. She was curled into a ball, her back to them, facing the tub. David reached her first and pulled her into his arms. “Ariel, baby,” he whispered.
Sara’s back was to the tub and the curtain was drawn across it. When she looked up at R.J. she saw that all the color had left his face. He was looking down into the tub, his eyes wide, his skin bloodless.
As Sara turned her head, R.J. said, “No!” but it was too late. Lying in the tub, half-hidden behind the curtain, was John Fenwick Nezbit. His eyes were open and he was as ugly as when they’d seen him in the bar, but he had a hole in his forehead. He was dead.
Sara was standing there, looking at that odious man and thinking what seemed to be rational thoughts, when R.J. grabbed her under the arms and pulled her upward. Without knowing it, she’d been sinking down toward the floor. Three more seconds and she would have been lying beside Ariel in a faint.
David looked up when R.J. moved so swiftly, and R.J. nodded toward the end of the tub. Whatever David felt, he stayed calm. He looked at the dead man, then turned his attention back to Ariel, who was just coming to.
“I’m fine,” Sara said, but when she tried to take a step, her knees gave way. R.J. swept her into his arms, carried her into the sitting room, and put her on one of the couches. There was no liquor in the rooms, but he got her a glass of water. Behind him came David, carrying Ariel. He set her on the couch across from Sara.
“Stay,” R.J. said to both of the women, but they didn’t need the order. He and David went back into the bathroom and closed the door.
Ariel looked at Sara and she looked back, but they said nothing. Sara reached across the coffee table and handed Ariel the glass of water. She sipped, then put the glass down on the table.