1 Sunshine Hunter Read online

  I moved the mouse up to click the browser closed, but my eye caught a familiar sight on the page. Two rows back from Jenny, in my line of sight as I moved the mouse up the page, sat Skinny Guy! My heart started to pound. The color drained from my face. I went cold. Dead, pale, cold. Skinny Guy. Marlon Brando. And he was from Ohio. He knew Jenny. My mind was screaming out of control. Was this the guy who she was tight with? He knew Jenny. He didn’t know Darby. What was his name? I was so shaken, I couldn’t match the captioned names with the faces in the picture. His name, his name, what was his name? There it was. Wicker Barnes. Wicker Barnes? Who names their kid Wicker? It had to be a stage name. I was cold. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to get back to the room - fast.

  I ran to the elevator, jumped in, and repeatedly jammed the button for seven. I was shaking, my teeth were chattering. The doors closed behind me. Why didn’t I take the stairs? What if the elevator stopped on another floor and Wicker Barnes got on? I was in a full-blown panic.

  I ran to my room and slammed the door behind me. I ran to the door between our rooms, banged a couple of times, and threw the door open. I jumped onto Darby’s bed and started shaking him to wake him up. I didn’t realize it at first, but I was crying.

  “Susan. Susan, honey, calm down,” he said gathering me into his arms. I was practically rolled into a ball and shaking hard. “Susan, what is it? Tell me.”

  “Darby,” I sobbed. “I know who Skinny Guy is. And he’s not after you, he’s after me!”

  Chapter Ten

  Darby wrapped a blanket around me and held me close until I finally stopped shaking and my crying was under control. He got up and handed a box of tissues to me. I blew my nose – loudly. “Can you talk about it now?” he asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “Well, let’s start at the beginning. Why are you up at 2:30 in the morning?” he asked.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I told him. “I was thinking about everything that’s happened this week, and I’m homesick, and I miss Mick, and . . .” I hesitated and looked at him sheepishly, “. . . and I thought I would run down to the lobby and get on a computer to see what Jenny looks like.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asked incredulously.

  “Noooo,” I replied, embarrassed. “But Darby, she looked nice, and it didn’t bother me to see her picture, and I realized I was being snoopy, so I went to close the page, and I saw Skinny Guy, Wicker Barnes,” I rolled my eyes at the name, “in the same picture with her.”

  “Wicker Barnes?” he asked. “What kind of a name is Wicker? Are you sure it was the same guy?”

  “I’m positive,” I said emphatically. “I’ve seen him enough times now, I’d know him anywhere. The curly hair, the Brando face, the build - it was him!” I was getting worked up. “Darby, he doesn’t know you; he knows Jenny. That means he probably knows who Mick is, and for some reason he’s after me. But I don’t know why, or what this could possibly mean.”

  “You know, Susan, we could just find him and ask him what he wants,” he said. That was typical Darby, always logical.

  “No, we can’t.” I pleaded my case. “He ran us off the road on Tuesday. He wanted to hurt us. He’s been following us. He gave me four flat tires. Talking to him isn’t going to resolve this.”

  “Then we need to go to the police,” he said.

  “Oh my gosh, no!” I shrieked. “Darby, we’re leaving Saturday morning, and I’m not getting involved with the police here. I don’t want to risk being delayed for any reason. I’ll call Mick in the morning and tell him about Wicker. Maybe he can find out what he’s doing in Florida.”

  “I talked with Johnny this evening,” Darby said. “He said the girls didn’t see anyone acting strangely or looking around during the show, and he never saw Skinny Guy, well, Wicker Barnes, again either.” He thought for a moment. “Johnny invited me to go out into the gulf tomorrow to do some fishing. Come with us. I don’t want you to be here alone.”

  “No,” I shook my head. “You go. I’ll be fine in my room. I’ll watch television, pack my bags, and get ready to leave.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “You’re welcome to come with us.”

  “Positive,” I assured him. “I’ll probably sleep anyway. I’ll be ok.”

  Darby looked at the clock. It was 3:00 A.M. “Susan, just stay here with me. You’ll be able to rest better. Try to get some sleep.”

  I nodded. I was still wrapped in Darby’s blanket. I settled myself on a pillow, rolled over, and closed my eyes. He turned off the light.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  The bed was rocking. Why was the bed rocking? I opened one eye and realized Darby was lightly shaking me. “Susan … Susan … wake up,” he was saying.

  “What? What’s wrong? What time is it?” I asked. I was tired and groggy.

  “It’s 8:00. I was going to let you sleep longer, but your phone is in your room, and it’s been ringing a lot the last hour. I thought you might want to know.”

  “I’m tired,” I told him, “and I don’t want to move.” My head hurt from crying so hard in the middle of the night.

  “I’ll get it for you,” he said. He walked into my room and retrieved the phone from the nightstand where I’d left it the day before.

  I stayed half-buried under the blanket and flipped the phone open. Six missed calls, all from Samantha. Something was definitely wrong.

  I punched #2, send. I didn’t even hear it ring, and she was there. And she was animated. “Susan, you have to come home. Things have changed here. The detective on Jerry’s case wants to talk to you, and it’s serious.”

  I sat straight up. She had my attention. “What? Why? What did I do?” I asked.

  “Detective Bentley was at my door early this morning. He wanted to know if I knew where you were. I had to tell him, Susan. I couldn’t lie to him.” She sounded unnerved. “I told him you were in Florida, and you would be back tomorrow. He said if I talked to you again, to ask you to come down to the station when you get home and have a talk with him.”

  “But why would he want to talk with me?” I asked. I was starting to freak out.

  “Dick’s been digging around all morning trying to find out what’s going on, and, Susan,” she paused, “they know now what poisoned Jerry.”

  “What?” She didn’t answer right away. “What?” I asked again nervously.

  “A large dose of potassium chloride,” she said. “It was given to him in apple juice. Dick said he’s hearing that Jerry was taking more steroids than were prescribed for him, and the autopsy showed he already had an enlarged heart and some heart damage. The potassium chloride didn’t kill him outright, but the overdose triggered the heart attack that did. Susan, you left a glass of apple juice for Jerry before you left Saturday night. Larry said Dick thinks you’re a suspect in Jerry’s murder.”

  I was stunned. “Sam, that’s horrible. I had nothing to do with Jerry’s death.” I could see Darby’s shocked and puzzled look at my comment. “What about the Thursday night man? I thought they arrested him for Jerry’s murder?”

  “There’s no information on him,” she said. “Dick couldn’t find out anything about him at all.”

  “What should I do?” I asked her. “We’re flying home tomorrow morning. Are they going to arrest me when I get off the plane?” My voice was shaking. I was near tears.

  “Susan, don’t panic. I don’t think it’s anything like that,” she said. I could tell she was attempting to sound calmer. “The detective is simply talking to everyone who was at the club Saturday night. It’s just unfortunate you left the apple juice for him. They’re setting up an interview center at the station today to talk with all of the people who were at the Cable Connect party. You aren’t here, so the detective wants you to come in for your interview after you get home. Try not to worry too much about it. I didn’t mean to scare you so much, I just wanted you to know right away.”

  “Ok, Sam. Thanks for the information,” I told her. “I’ll call
you tomorrow.” I was sick to my stomach.

  My mind was starting to whirl. I had to think. There was something about the party that night. What was it? The Cable Connect employees were a rowdy lot. They had kept me so busy, and I hadn’t paid attention to details. Could Wicker have been there? Maybe that was why he seemed familiar to me when I first saw him.

  I pulled the blanket around me again. “Darby, I’m scared,” I told him. “Jerry was poisoned with a glass of apple juice that I might have left for him. The police want to talk to me. I’m a suspect!”

  “Oh, Susan, I’m so sorry,” he said as he sat down beside me on the bed and put his arm around me. “Everyone knows you wouldn’t hurt a fly. This has to be a big mistake.”

  “The detective wants to talk to me when we get home tomorrow. I’ll go see him right away so he can see I have nothing to hide, but there isn’t anything to tell him.” I shook my head and thought about my pitiful story. “I didn’t drink a glass of apple juice, told Jerry to drink it or throw it away, and then I left.”

  I had to know if I had seen Wicker at the club on Saturday. “Darby, I need you to do something for me. Please? I really need you to do this.”

  “Anything,” he said. “Just name it.”

  “Go back down to the computers,” I told him. “Go to the Marshall Community Theater website and look up Wicker Barnes. Check his bio and find out where he works.”

  “Ok, I can do that,” he said and started for the door. “Why don’t you order room service? We’ll have breakfast before I leave to meet Johnny.”

  “What do you want?” I asked. “My stomach is flip-flopping, and if you’re going to be out on a boat, maybe you should eat light.” I thought for a few seconds. “How about toast, fresh berries, and tea?”

  “That’s sounds great,” he said and smiled at me. “I’ll be right back.”

  It would be at least half an hour before room service arrived, so I hopped into the shower. The warm water felt good after the chills and shaking during the night. I braced myself against the wall, closed my eyes, and let the warm water fall over me. I didn’t cry; I was cried out. I wished again I could simply snap my fingers and be at home in my own shower.

  As I was finishing blow drying my hair, Darby yelled over from his room, “Are you decent?”

  “Yep. Come on over,” I called back. I had already slipped into a pair of comfortable denim shorts, a pale yellow cropped tie top, and a simple pair of canvas sling-back espadrilles.

  “Well, it took me a little while to figure out navigating their site, and they really could use a better web writer to get the maximum value from their space,” he said. I shot him a hurry-up look. “But I finally found Wicker Barnes, and you’re right, it’s the same guy.”

  I was in a hurry and rushed him, “Where does he work?”

  “Cable Connect.”

  I nodded at him. “I knew that was what you would find out, but I had to be sure.”

  We were interrupted by a knock at Darby’s door. It was room service.

  We sat at the small table in his room to eat our breakfast, but I didn’t have an appetite. I sipped my tea and said, “Darby, help me think this through. This is more serious than we first thought. What if the poison in the apple juice was meant for me? We were so busy that night, and I sent Sam to the back for towels. Our glasses were left unattended at least once that I can remember.”

  “And you think Wicker put the drug in your glass?” He seemed unsure.

  “I do,” I said as I nibbled on a piece of toast. “It’s obvious now I’m the target, but why? Why would Jenny’s boyfriend want to hurt me? Or kill me?” A worse thought popped into my head. “Would she be capable of asking someone to murder for her? But Mick said she was the one who asked for the divorce, so why would she want to hurt me?” I gave up. I shook my head, “I don’t get it. She looked like a nice, normal person.”

  “Susan, I agree, none of this makes sense,” he said. “I think you’re right, there’s a connection between all of you, but I can’t see it either. Why is Wicker here? is the first question.”

  “Well,” I started to tick off a list, “he tried to run us off the road, we know that for sure now. He followed us to the boat races, but nothing happened.” I stopped and looked up at Darby with wide eyes. I had a thought. “Wait a minute. You went to get us a beer. Did anything happen when you bought the beers? Anything at all?”

  “Not that I can think of,” he said while devouring a bowl of blueberries.

  “Think harder,” I encouraged him. “Where did you go to buy them?”

  He thought for a moment. “The main concession stand was crowded, so I went to a cart vendor by the parking lot. Kids were running and playing in the area, a few other people were milling around. I only had to wait on one person ahead of me before I could order.” He paused to think some more. “One the kids playing bumped me, but that was nothing. I -”

  I interrupted, “Bumped you how? Why did the kid bump you?”

  “It was nothing. Just bumping from running. Maybe they were playing tag.” He concentrated on the memory. “I ordered our beers and nachos. The vendor put the beers on the ledge, and as I was getting my wallet out of my pocket, one of the kids bumped me, and I dropped it. The vendor was getting our nachos at the time. I picked up my wallet, paid him, grabbed our stuff, and came back into the stands.”

  “Could Wicker have slipped the poison into one of the beers when you dropped your wallet? What if he was trying to poison me at the boat races?”

  “But he wouldn’t have known which beer you would drink,” he said doubtfully.

  “He doesn’t look like the rocket scientist type, Darby,” I said sarcastically. “He was probably just taking his chances. He doesn’t know Jerry had a heart condition, so he still thinks what he put in the apple juice was a lethal dose. It wasn’t, but it could have been enough to give me the symptoms I had that day.”

  “I don’t know, Susan,” he said still shaking his head.

  “Maybe that’s why he drove past me so slowly when I was hanging onto the light post,” I told him. “He wanted to see I was in distress and dying. He wouldn’t care if I saw him because he knew I wouldn’t live to identify him.”

  “I don’t know, Susan,” he said again. “It sounds so far-fetched, but it does sound like it could have happened. I know this much, we should call the police.”

  “No!” I looked at him with disbelief that he would suggest the police again. “Darby, I’m serious. I do not want to be involved with the police here. And what if they run my name and find out I’m wanted for questioning in a murder investigation, and they throw me in jail?” I was adamant, “We are not calling the police.”

  “Then I won’t take no for an answer,” he said, standing up and staring me down. “You are coming with me and Johnny today. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He turned and pointed for me to go back to my room. “Pack a light bag with sunscreen, a hat, sunglasses, and whatever else you think you might need on a boat. Johnny said he’ll bring seasickness pills in case we need them.” He looked at the clothes I was wearing. “And no fancy shoes. Put on your court shoes with the pink laces; they have rubber soles.”

  “I can’t wear my court shoes on a boat,” I protested. They’ll get fish guts on them, and they’ll get wet and be ruined.”

  Darby smiled, “There will be no fish guts, and you can get a new pair of shoes if they get ruined.” I hated frowning, but I frowned. My court shoes weren’t cheap. “I’ll buy you a new pair of shoes if they get fish guts on them,” he said. “Go get ready. We’re leaving in 20 minutes.”

  “Ok,” I said. “But I have to call Mick first. It’ll only take a couple of minutes. I have to ask him to try to find out why Wicker is here in Florida.”

  I went back to my room to make the call. It went right to voice mail. He was probably in a meeting or on a job site. I’d have to try him later.

  Chapter Eleven

  Johnny was waiting for us at the
dock of the Shark Trek when we arrived at Spanky’s Marina. This wasn’t a high-end marina. The wooden docks had seen better days and were desperately in need of a coat of paint. Most of the boats were older wooden styles rather than the swanky fiberglass boats I had been expecting.

  The Shark Trek was a 35’ wooden trawler that looked surprisingly like the boat that went down in the first Jaws movie. I leaned in to Darby and softly sang the Jaws theme to him, “duhn-DUHN … duhn-DUHN … duhn-DUHN/duhn-DUHN/duhn-DUHN.”

  “Oh, stop it,” he said, but he couldn’t help laughing.

  Johnny was in high theater mode this morning. “Susan, dahling,” he drawled. He gave me a big hug and air kisses on my cheeks, “I’m so glad you could join us.” He moved on to give Darby a hug with more air kisses.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” I said. “I’ve never been deep-sea fishing before, so this is a first for me.”

  “It’s very exciting when you catch the fish, and you will just love the experience of the being on the open sea. Shall we board?” He bowed and spread his arms and hands out to usher me onto the boat first. I laughed at his gallantry as I stepped aboard.

  Boating terminology was pretty much a foreign language to me, but I did know the front of the boat was the forward, the back was aft, left side was port, and the right side was starboard. That was it. Right now I just wanted to know where the life vests were.

  “Let me introduce you to my good friend and Captain of the Shark Trek, Jorje,” Johnny said, as a short, slightly overweight man appeared on deck from inside the cabin. “Jorge is a cook at the restaurant, and his mother, God rest her soul, helped him to buy this boat before she died. Jorje is one of the best fishermen in the area, and today he is going to help us catch the big one!” Johnny said excitedly with a huge smile on his face.