South Seas Shenanigans Page 3

  Which would describe her to a tee.

  “From what I’ve gathered so far,” Miss Vivee said ignoring my comment. “Madda had supposedly come to Fiji to bird watch,” She turned and looked at Mac. “Do people still do that?”

  “Apparently,” he said and smiled at her.

  “Yes, and ‘apparently,’” she made air quotation marks, “bird watching in the rainforest is a major tourist draw, but no one had ever seen her with a pair of binoculars, a handbook, or go more than 200-feet away from the resort. I guess it was a “come to me” bird-fest, her expecting the birds to fly within her view.”

  Oh, so that was the reason for the bird comment.

  I laughed. “She was here before we were, Miss Vivee,” I said. “She could have already filled up her bird journal, so to speak, before we arrived.”

  “I doubt it,” Miss Vivee said. “She was here to play pranks on people. Quite the little imp, so I’m told.”

  “If you’re not divulging any sources,” I said, “I’m not sure if I can rely on your hearsay.”

  “It’s my constitutional right not to reveal my sources,” she said, head held high, nose in air.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Avvy and Temo told us,” Mac said crunching on a slice of toast. “When we went to ask them about snorkeling, as the owners of this resort they were upset about it, they just kind of confided in us.”

  “Well if it’s already going around, unless Miss Vivee’s been spreading it,” I looked at her, “Avvy and Temo have been sharing it with a lot of people.” Miss Vivee raised her eyebrows. “Sooo, why didn’t they just have her kicked off the island?” I asked.

  “Well, it is their business,” Miss Vivee said. “They have to show goodwill. Be kind to their guests. Plus, she denied it. Every time. Even had an alibi for a couple of things. Said she was with Hank Harrison.”

  “Hank Harrison.” I repeated the name. “He was her alibi?”

  “Yep,” Miss Vivee said taking a sip of her drink.

  “Did he confirm it?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t want to pry,” Miss Vivee said.

  “Yes, Miss Vivee, I know you wouldn’t want to pry.”

  “But I would assume he did,” she said, not catching my sarcasm, “because she was still here. Still on the island. Still able to prank you with that plant.”

  I cut an eye at her.

  “He was down at the beach this morning,” I said. “Hank Harrison.”

  I remember he was the other guest who had offered an answer when I asked what happened. He told me that “he” had killed her. Like the “he” he was referring to meant to do it.

  Now I knew “he” was Campbell Gruger.

  And now I could see how that rumor mill was getting fueled.

  “Yes, Hank was there this morning,” Mac offered something to the conversation.

  Miss Vivee nodded. “He seem to take seeing the bodies pretty hard. But, even if they hadn’t told us,” Miss Vivee said, “Avvy and Temo. You should believe those things about that woman after what she did to you.”

  That was true.

  “So Madda Crawford was the one that caused all the trouble around here?” I conceded the point.

  “Yes. But no one could prove it until her little firestick prank. She showed her hand on that one.”

  “Euphorbia tirucalli,” I said and smiled.

  “Yes.” Miss Vivee smiled back. “Euphorbia tirucalli.”

  “But why would she be so obvious about that one?” I asked. “All of her other pranks she denied. Even got someone else to say it wasn’t her.”

  “How am I supposed to know?” Miss Vivee said and shrugged. “I’m just repeating what I’ve heard.”

  “Yes, I know. From your birdie.” I played around with my pancake while I mulled over the information I’d just gotten. “Sooo . . . Did your birdie also explain to you why Campbell Gruger would kill himself while he was in the act of getting Madda Crawford back for messing with his bike? Because in my opinion, it’s not such a good idea to die during your act of revenge.”

  “Well, I never said I believed the part about him killing her because she bothered his chain.” She broke off a small piece of her bacon, and before she put it in her mouth, she said, “I was just telling you what I’d heard.”

  So you keep saying.

  “Because,” she continued chomping down on the bacon. “Campbell Gruger was dead before he hit the water.” She swallowed the little morsel, and wiped her mouth. “Murdered.”

  “Oh brother,” I said. “Here we go again.”

  Chapter Five

  “Oh please, Miss Vivee,” I said, almost begging. “Please don’t go there. We’re on vacation.”

  “Go where?” she said as if she actually didn’t know what I was talking about.

  “You don’t know that he was murdered, Miss Vivee.” I surely didn’t want to hear anything like that. “There is no way you could know. For all anyone knows he could of had a heart attack.”

  Miss Vivee laughed. “You hear that Mac? A heart attack.”

  “I heard her.” Mac gave a smile and nodded his head.

  “The girl has no imagination.” Miss Vivee shook her head. “Not a creative bone in her body. She could never write a good mystery.”

  “Is that what you’re aiming for?” I asked. “Enough material to write a book?”

  “Honeybun, my life would be a best seller.”

  I had to laugh. Because I was sure that was true.

  “So,” I directed my next question to Mac. “Since you two are sure Campbell Gruger was murdered, I’m sure you know how.”

  “Vivee said he was murdered, not me,” Mac said, stirring his cup of cold coffee like it would make a difference with the tempature.

  “You disagree with her?” I asked surprised. Mac’s opinion was usually the same as Miss Vivee, and included whatever craziness she was offering at any given time.

  “Of course he doesn’t disagree with me,” Miss Vivee said and dropped her fork down on the plate with a clang. “Don’t go trying to make a rift in my marriage.”

  “I didn’t do anything.” I held my hands up. I looked at Mac, hoping he’d help me out.

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin and then winked at me. “But of course I agree with her.”

  “And,” Miss Vivee said and looked at Mac then back at me. “I haven’t figured out what or who killed him. I was thinking we’d have to put our heads together on that one. Have a pow-wow after we gathered a little bit more information.”

  “I’m not going around questioning the guests, Miss Vivee,” I said. “And you have no reason to try and investigate this. No reason.”

  “I don’t need you to help me question anyone. I have a husband now, he’ll assist me. Won’t you, Mac?”

  “We’ve made friends with nearly all the guests already,” he said. “Don’t believe it would hurt anything if we find out what they know.”

  He may have had to blindly follow Miss Vivee and jump in line with all her maneuverings, until death do they part, but I didn’t. And I wasn’t.

  “Well, count me out,” I said.

  “You were never counted in,” Miss Vivee said.

  And before I could counter that, she popped up straight in her seat. “Well look-a-there!”

  Miss Vivee was the first to notice the police helicopters heading to the Malolo shore. There were two helicopters. I figured a medical examiner must be in one. We saw them land and walk toward the bodies. I knew there was no way she was going to let those law enforcement officers tend to those dead bodies all by themselves.

  “Let’s go,” Miss Vivee said and hopped up from her seat. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

  I just bet you don’t.

  I didn’t squawk about going back. I was interested in what was going on as most people would be, two dead bodies is an unusual sight. I wanted to see what was being done and said, even if I didn’t want to go around interrogating the guests.

/>   Leaving out of the Complex heading back to the beach, I saw Hank Harrison standing hidden halfway behind a door. He had his eyes fixed in the direction we were going.

  Why didn’t he just go down there?

  As we walked, I could see that now the officers from the choppers were laying out yellow tape. It gave me flashbacks of all the crime scenes I’d seen as of late.

  What was this one? Number seven? Number eight? Or was it number eight and nine? There had been too many for me to keep count.

  Other guests and staff had also started to gather around again. And as we got closer, I saw that the bodies had been place in black bags, and Avvy and Temo speaking to a man in a black suit, and a black tie. I figured he must be in charge.

  Avvy was crying. It was the first I’d seen them that morning. But if what they’d told Miss Vivee about Madda Crawford being the prankster, Avvy couldn’t have been too sad about her death.

  Avvy Sovaia and Temo Mara. They were young, slim, and shapely. They looked more like they enjoyed the island rather than working it, friendly to everyone, always smiling. But their business acumen, I’m guessing must have been top notched.

  I wasn’t sure if they were husband and wife, brother or sister, or what. They didn’t have the same last name, which I found wasn’t uncommon in Fiji. They didn’t show much affection between them, and she acted as his equal – never walking behind him often moving in sync with him, not a common Fijian custom. All I knew was that Likuliku Lagoon Resort was a family-owned business, and they were the family that owned it. They ran it, and they, along with a woman that looked older than Miss Vivee (if that was possible), lived in a small house behind the main building. It was nothing fancy, and took me by surprise when I first saw it because, I was sure, with all the deluxe accommodations and smiling, happy guests at the resort, they had to be making millions.

  “Yoo-hoo! Hello!” Miss Vivee waved her hand at the police officers before we had gotten close enough to have a conversation. The breeze had kicked up a notch, and had almost become windy. She wrapped her long yellow scarf around her neck to stop it from flapping. “I saw the whole thing,” she yelled.

  The officer in the suit and tie smiled and waved at Miss Vivee, keeping an eye on her until she arrived, which was longer than most would take, the sand slowing her down.

  “Hello,” he said to her. His handshake brief and timid. Miss Vivee pulled her hand away and looked at it, then at him. I’m sure she wasn’t impressed. “I’m Inspector Tomasi Walota from the Nadi Police Station. And who are you?”

  “Look,” Miss Vivee said, she sounded out of breath. She pointed at his notebook and turned to look at me. “Good thing I picked up a couple from Hadley’s Drugstore before we came.”

  Had she been expecting a murder?

  “Yes, yes,” she said as she noticed he patiently waited on her to answer his question. “I’m Vivienne Pennywell.”

  The police detective started scrawling in his notepad.

  “Whitson,” Mac said, adding her now married name.

  The officer looked at Miss Vivee for confirmation.

  “Vivienne Pennywell-Whitson,” Miss Vivee said. “Of course, and this is my husband, Dr. Macomber Whitson.” Inspector Walota grasped Mac’s hand with a one-shake downward motion. Miss Vivee finished her introductions, even one for Bay who hadn’t arrived yet.

  “My grandson, Bay Colquett is on his way here now. To Fiji,” she said and nodded. “He’s with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

  “The FBI?” The inspector asked as if wanting clarification, then wrote something down in his notebook.

  Miss Vivee stopped talking and squinted at him. I hoped she wasn’t going to ask him if he was slow like she always did me. Instead she continued with her introductions. “Yes. He’s coming from Georgia, and’ll be here tomorrow. Unofficially, of course. And this is his fiancée, our granddaughter, Logan Dickerson. She’s an archaeologist.”

  “Ah?” He looked at me, but didn’t make any kind of notation.

  I hoped that was a good thing.

  “Yes,” Miss Vivee said. “She’ll be joining an archaeological excavation in Lautoka next week.”

  I just smiled. I knew better than to try and answer any of his questions, even if they were about me. Miss Vivee was in charge of this conversation.

  “So you say you saw what happened?” The inspector arched an eyebrow. He glanced at Avvy and Temo then back to Miss Vivee.

  “Yes, I did.”

  He wrote down something else.

  I didn’t know what the penalty for lying to the police in Fiji was, and he seemed to be keeping an accurate record of all the lies, but just in case it was death by firing squad, I stepped back, distancing myself from Miss Vivee.

  “I saw everything,” she said.

  I looked up to the sky. Lord, please don’t strike her down.

  “What did you see?” he asked

  For some reason my heart picked up its pace and my mouth got dry. I licked my lips and braced myself.

  “I saw Campbell Gruger murdered.”

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  Chapter Six

  Thank goodness for the loud rev and rumble of the motor of that boat speeding toward the shore. A boat that brought a guest who seemed to be well-known to Avvy and Temo. And a boat that interrupted Miss Vivee’s advent into the Outer Limits . . .

  Sassy Alcott-Gruger arrived by private speedboat. I didn’t know who she was as the boat came barreling toward the island, but I thought we’d travelled back to the 1950s.

  Once the boat docked, I could see she had several men standing guard around her, making her look like royalty. She sat with her legs titled to the side, feet together and her hands placed primly on her lap. The pink chiffon scarf she wore delicately covered her shoulder length blonde hair, and the ends of it were looped and tossed over her shoulder. She was dressed in white capris, and a pink halter. Large white-rimmed sunglasses covered half her face, the other half housed her matte red, plump lips that were more large and full than the ones her DNA had dictated. At her feet was a giant Louis Vuitton satchel. She spoke money without saying a word.

  Everyone’s attention turn to her entrance, thankfully taking the conversation in a different direction than the one Miss Vivee had it headed in.

  Temo turned back to the Inspector, bowed his exit, and gave Avvy a look that said, “Follow me.”

  Temo went to the boat and offered his hand, she grabbed and he led the petite woman off then bowed his head as Avvy spoke to her. All eyes on her, we couldn’t hear Avvy’s words, but I knew they must’ve been devastating. I even felt tempted to run to the aid of this Harper’s Bazaar Woman when I saw her knees buckle. Temo swept her up, and beckoned for a staffer to bring over a beach chair, and another one brought a glass of water from the nearby beach bar.

  It didn’t take long for her to regain her composure, and when she had Temo leaned down and spoke to her. At the end of their conversation, both their heads turned and looked at us. She nodded and stood up. Pulling away from the offer of Temo’s outstretched hand, she held her head high and walked over to us, it seemed with all the grace she could muster with the sand and wind trying to falter her movements.

  “I’m Mrs. Campbell Gruger. Alcott-Gruger,” the woman from the speedboat announced to Inspector Walato in a very pronounced Southern accent, her lips curled into a warm smile. “But you can call me Sassy.”

  Everyone’s mouth dropped open, and Miss Vivee started thumping me on the side of my thigh.

  “Stop it!” I whispered to her.

  “Good lord, her husband is dead!” she said with another smack.

  “I know.” I grabbed her hand to keep her from hitting me again.

  “I understand that one of those bodies belong to my husband?” Sassy Gruger nodded to the bagged corpses.

  “Yes,” Inspector said with an arched eyebrow.

  “Do you suppose that you could make haste in removing his remains?” she said, never flinchi
ng. “I don’t want him to be made a spectacle. Afford him some dignity until I can make arrangements to have him flown home.”

  “Of course,” the Inspector said. He nodded to other police officers, who then scurried over. “But,” he said as they picked up one of the bodies and headed to their chopper. “We will have to take the bodies with us first to be autopsied. They will be no taking him home until we’ve finished out investigation.”

  And at that, with a sigh and a limp hand reaching for her brow, Sassy Alcott-Gruger fainted straight away.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hello,” Miss Vivee said. The first thing Sassy saw when she opened her eyes was Miss Vivee, her nose nearly touching the newly widowed woman’s face.

  Sassy pulled back and pushed herself up, propping up on her elbows.

  “I’m Dr. Whitson,” Mac said gently moving Miss Vivee out of the way, he bent over her. “I came to your aid when you fainted out on the beach. Do you remember that?”

  I bent in to hear her answer.

  “Of course she does,” Miss Vivee said.

  Mac, without hesitation had seen to Sassy, having staff carry her into one of the cabanas. Miss Vivee, announcing she was a mid-wife followed him, pulling me behind her saying, “Come, Nurse Dickerson.”

  I’m sure saying she was a mid-wife was the first lie that came to mind, but why she thought anyone would think a mid-wife would be needed for a woman who had fainted, I couldn’t understand.

  And why I was a nurse, when I had two Ph.D.s, and in most circles was referred to as Dr. Dickerson, didn’t make sense to me either. But I played along.

  Plus, I was intrigued by this Mrs. Sassy Gruger . . . I mean Alcott-Gruger.

  Sassy looked at the three of us, parted her crimson colored lips and let out a wail. The three of us stood upright and stepped back.

  My eyes got wide and I looked from her to Mac, then Miss Vivee. “Do something Miss Vivee,” I said.

  “Dearie,” Miss Vivee said and sat next to her on the lounger. “I know this is hard for you, but it will be okay.” She took Sassy’s hand. “The police will figure out who murdered your husband.”