Chapter 33

The next day was full of police detectives searching the grounds and asking more questions. The theory was that Melinda happened upon a burglar and met her doom. I wanted to leave for Charlotte but was told by one of the detectives that I needed to stay close. It was too late to rent another beach house and all the hotels were booked or too expensive to rent weekly. Perry was stuck with me. But with all the arrangements to be made regarding Melinda, I didn’t see him much.

I kept an eye out for David but I never saw him again. Maybe he finally understood that I was finished with him. Gene was upset about what happened and wanted me back in Charlotte immediately. Since I couldn’t, he offered to come stay with me. I told him that once the Pirate was inhabitable again, he could come for a week. There were plenty of rooms and I knew it would ease Wade’s mind. With the tourist season underway, he had little time to check on me.

There wasn’t much progress made on the case, though there were some peculiarities. The fingerprints found on my car and those found all over the bedroom were Melinda’s. The police turned to Perry for the answers. I overheard him tell one of the detectives that Melinda hadn't been in the house for extended periods in almost a year and had no reason to be searching the bedroom, because all the stuff in it was mine. Maybe she was searching for some proof that Perry and I were having an affair or just being nosy. If that’s the case, why did someone kill her?

Two days after Melinda’s death, the Chief came over to visit me and Perry, bringing along a troubling autopsy report! She had been bludgeoned to death, which was no surprise to any of us since we all saw her head trauma. But the coroner thought that the wounds matched the grip of revolver much like the one I was missing. The Chief explained the theory to us, using a diagram supplied by the crime lab. As he finished, Perry got a phone call. It was one of Melinda’s relatives, so he took the call in his bedroom. The Chief took the moment of opportunity to show me something that was found in Melinda’s hand during the autopsy.

He pulled a clear plastic bag from his pocket and asked, “Do you recognize this?”

I took the bag and examined it. Inside was a ring that I hadn’t noticed was missing. It was a small gold ring with a pearl and two rubies. David had it designed for me on my birthday last year. He said the pearl stood for our pure love and the rubies represented both of us, putting our heart into the relationship. I remember when he told me what the ring meant that I wept at the poetic symbolism. Then I declared to him that my romance writing was rubbing off. We shared a wonderful time that night. Sadly it was one of our last.

“Yes, my fiancé gave me that ring last year for my birthday. I didn’t know it was missing. I wonder what Melinda was doing with it?”

“I would love to know the same thing, Miss Rosewood.” He took the ring away. We were talking about the weather when Perry returned, looking troubled.

“Chief, would you give Melinda’s sister, Meagan a call and explain to her what’s going on with the investigation? She thinks I’m hindering it some how. It would ease the family’s mind and maybe get them to leave me alone for a few days.”

“Sure Perry.” He took down the phone number and then bide us adieu. I didn’t mention the ring, since the Chief failed to. I figured it wasn’t important. And to, it showed Melinda in a bad light, in my opinion.”

Three days passed and the police finally declared that the house was no longer a crime scene. I was leery about moving back into it. There was almost a month left of my vacation. When I mentioned leaving the island, Perry and Wade protested. So I relented and agreed to stay. Perry had a professional cleaning service to give the place a thorough cleansing. He also, had the carpet replaced in the bedroom and declared that he would use the room for something else. The bedroom furniture was put into storage and the room closed off. All my things were moved to the master bedroom on the top level, the one with the nautical theme and heavy oak furniture. I felt as if I were sequestered in a Pirate’s cabin and might even drown in a testosterone sea.

While all this was going on, Gene was calling me daily. As was common with his type of career choice, a wild imagination was his bane. His theory was that I was the real target and the “bimbo” from Banning House was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He badgered me about being careful and growing eyes in the back of my head. I got to the point that I hated answering my cell phone. Finally, he pushed me into inviting him to visi. He was obsessed that I was the target of a ‘sinister story plot.’ He packed it all nicely into a conspiracy theory, which made no sense to me. I invited him but not because of the conspiracy theory. I invited him because I missed my dear friend.

When I told Perry that Gene, my publicist was coming to visit for a week, he didn’t seem too pleased. I reassured him that Gene wouldn’t be a problem and he would sleep in the small bedroom off the kitchen. I was relieved that Perry didn’t have time to start an argument, because he had to pack an overnight bag and get his suit dry cleaned. Melinda’s funeral was in Raleigh the following day.

The stress was taking its toll on him and his temper was short. I saw him snap at Wade, which is something he’s never done in my presence. Once he got irritated with me about cleaning up the boathouse (I was trying to occupy my thoughts by doing some light house keeping). I didn’t take offense. He had a heavy burden on his shoulders. He looked tired and haggard, a pale wraith of the man he was a week ago. I had talked to Nova a few times on the phone and she said Melinda’s family was giving him a hard time about Melinda being murdered at the Pirate. They seemed to think he should do some detective work on his own.

I’m not sure if the island was prepared for Gene’s arrival. As a very powerful man in the publishing industry, his wardrobe was de rigueur for his image. But during his leisure time, he was a mid-thirties guy stuck in the 70’s with his flashy tie dye t-shirts and his love for Motown music. On the night before he was due to arrive at the Pirate Gene called from Raleigh to confirm that it was still okay for him to visit. He had spent the day with some clients, tying up loose ends so he could relax while he was visiting me.

As he drove into the driveway, Perry was putting his overnight bag behind his seat. Anticipating his arrival, I stood on the deck laughing, because I could hear Gene’s music long before he pulled up behind my car. I should have warned Perry about Gene’s grooving to the tune of another era, but it didn’t cross my mind.

When Gene shut off the engine of his car and opened his door, Perry walked over and asked, “Sir, are you lost?” I hurried down the steps to greet Gene.

“Gene, you made it!” I was giddy as a teenager. My eyes sought any eminent changes in his appearance. He had shaven off his goatee and sideburns, making him look much younger with a smoother face.

“Well, chickie? Are your arms broken? Give me a hug!” I wrapped my arms around him giving him a bear hug.

“I’ve missed you.” I said.

“Same here, kid. Woo ho, look at you. You’re a super freak with those blond streaks. Look at that tan, you foxy mama!”

“Look at you, dude. You’ve shaven off your peach fuzz.” I laughed, “You could pass for a teenager.”

Perry watched our tête-à-tête with an eyebrow raised. I swiftly remember my manners. “Perry, this is Gene Michaels. Gene, Perry O’Brien." The two men shook hands, each measuring the other as they exchanged pleasantries. I couldn’t help but hide a smile, thinking, “Men!”

As if I weren’t there, Perry said to Gene, “I’ll be back tomorrow sometime. Keep an eye on Kerrie for me.”

“I can’t blame you for hating to remove that eye. She looks fantastic, I say.” Gene’s reply surprised me. But I didn’t take the compliment, because being discussed as if I were wall art brought out the tiger in me.

“I think I can keep an eye on myself.” I replied dryly.

Gene winked at Perry, “She hates the truth, but we don’t, do we?”

Perry laughed, “Kerrie, retract your claws. We’ll behave.”

I smiled, “Have a safe trip. Is Nova going along?”

“Yes, she’s my moral support. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” He nodded to Gene and then he was gone.