“Yes. Hang on, I’ll get a pen and take some notes while you read.”

Drake waited until she was settled at the table with a pen and a pad bearing the legend The Marina Inn on each page. Then he started to read aloud. It didn’t take long to pick up the telltale signs.

“Crisp was looking for an angle, right from the start,” Drake said.

Alice frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He realized that the real money involved in the case was the Whitcomb fortune. He started hunting for a way to tap into that the minute you walked out of his office.”

“You mean he tried to sell his services to Ethel Whitcomb?”

“No, at least not yet.” Drake turned another page. “But he did what the cops should have done more thoroughly—what I plan to do as soon as we get the computers up and running again. He looked into the background of everyone who was closely associated with Fulton Whitcomb.”

“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense. Did he find anything that might point to the killer?”

“Do the initials AH mean anything to you in connection with the Whitcomb Museum?”

Alice went still. “The director of the museum is Aldwin Hampstead. He was the one who hired me to work in the gift shop.”

“If I’m interpreting these notes correctly, it looks like Hampstead was operating a thriving business in black market Alien antiquities out of the basement of the museum.”

“Good grief, are you sure?”

“Looks like Crisp was certain about it, which is the critical point.” Drake flipped another couple of pages. “I think it’s safe to say that, after a short but evidently solid investigation, Crisp believed that he had found a way to turn a handsome profit on the Whitcomb case.”

“By finding out that Aldwin Hampstead was dealing in illegal antiquities?” Alice asked. “How does that—?” She broke off, her eyes widening. “Yes, of course, he intended to blackmail Aldwin. But that makes no sense. Aldwin wasn’t the one with the money.”

“No, but Aldwin Hampstead had a pipeline into the Whitcomb money. He had evidently been convincing Ethel to spend a fortune on fake antiquities for years. Looks like Crisp figured Hampstead could find a way to get more money out of Ethel and use it to pay Crisp for his silence.”

“So how did Crisp wind up on Rainshadow?”

Drake turned another page. “Here we go. At some point along the way Crisp realizes that Hampstead and Fulton Whitcomb are into something very, very big here on Rainshadow, an important Alien find. Compared to the potential profits of a discovery that yields a substantial amount of Alien technology, blackmail would be penny ante stuff.”

Alice put down her pen. “He wanted in on the project?”

“Yes. Hampstead agrees. They set up a meeting here on the island to show Crisp the ruin.”

“Instead of taking Crisp on a tour of the ruin, Aldwin Hampstead murdered him,” Alice concluded.

“Looks like it.” Drake turned the last page. “Crisp notes that he made a reservation here at the Marina Inn.”

“Well, it’s not like there are a lot of options here in Shadow Bay,” Alice said. “There are a handful of B-and-Bs, but people tend to remember you in small establishments. The Marina Inn would have seemed much more anonymous.”

“Given that Crisp’s body was found in the basement of the tavern, we can assume he was killed at the inn.”

“It still seems strange that the killer stashed the body in the freezer.”

“He was probably killed there,” Drake said, “or somewhere close by. It’s not easy to dump a body in a small town like Shadow Bay. The obvious location is inside the Preserve, but that would require the killer to carry the corpse through the inn and outside to a vehicle. There would have been too much risk that someone would see something suspicious.”

Alice tipped her head to one side. “We’re assuming that because Crisp came here to meet Hampstead, Hampstead is the killer. But what about Zara Tucker?”

“Zara is a very petite woman. She would not have had the upper body strength to lift Crisp up onto that shelf in the freezer where you found him.”

“Petite, huh? And I think you also said she was beautiful.”

Alice’s tone was a little too neutral and her expression was unreadable.

Drake suddenly felt as if he was walking on eggshells. He cleared his throat. “Take it from me, Zara is not the one who stuffed Crisp into the freezer. She never does her own dirty work if she can avoid it.”

“Which leaves Aldwin Hampstead as our most likely suspect.”

“If Hampstead and Zara are both in on this, which seems likely, you can be sure that Hampstead is taking orders from Zara Tucker. She’s the one running the show.”

Alice nodded once. “I believe you. What’s our next move?”

Drake got to his feet and went to stand at the window. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Crisp’s body wound up in Burt’s freezer, not the freezer at the grocery store or the one at the fish market.”

“Good heavens, surely you don’t think Burt Caster killed the investigator.” Alice hesitated. “Unless he’s Zara Tucker’s spy here in town.”

Drake shook his head. “I don’t think Burt is the killer. He wouldn’t have sent you downstairs to clean out the last of the frozen hamburger meat if he had stashed a body inside the locker.”

“Right. Whew. That’s a relief. Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.” Alice held up one hand and ticked off facts. “Samson Crisp came here to Rainshadow to meet with Aldwin Hampstead. Crisp wanted a piece of the action at the ruin that Zara Tucker is excavating somewhere on the island. The meeting between Crisp and Hampstead took place at the Marina Inn where Crisp was killed.”

“It seems likely that Hampstead would have been staying here at the inn for the same reason that Crisp got a room there,” Drake said, thinking it through. “It’s the largest and most anonymous motel in Shadow Bay.”

Alice jumped to her feet, excitement sparking in her eyes. “If they both stayed here, there will be a record.”

“The killer would have used a fake name,” Drake warned her. “Rainshadow isn’t a major tourist destination in the Amber Sea, but it gets a fair number of day-trippers during the summer months and on the weekends.”

“But we’ve got dates and descriptions of both men.”

Drake smiled slowly. “We also know that one of the guests never checked out, at least not in person. In a community the size of Shadow Bay, you can be sure that someone will remember something.”

Alice made a face. “Small towns. Gotta love ’em.”

Chapter 27

“I REMEMBER THE DEAD GUY NOW.” SYLVIA BENETZ peered at the card she had taken out of a file box. “Checked in as Fred Smith. Paid cash. Didn’t see him the next morning. Just assumed he left on the early ferry. I didn’t worry about it at the time. After all, he’d paid for the room.”

Alice studied the card that Sylvia set on the inn’s front desk. She was not the only one examining it. A sizeable crowd was gathered around the desk. In addition to Drake, Kirk Willis, Myrna, Rachel, Charlotte, and Dr. Harrison were present.

Houdini and Darwina were the only ones who did not show any interest in the murder investigation. They were out in the street in front of the inn, learning how to play hide-and-seek with the half dozen children left in town.

The fog had retreated for the day, leaving behind another heavy sky. The parents of the kids had all agreed that the little ones needed to work off excess energy, and the dust bunnies were thrilled to take on the role of camp counselors. With a natural talent for turning anything and everything into a game, they had picked up the essential concepts of hide-and-seek almost immediately. Shouts of laughter interspersed by short bursts of hushed silence were followed by excited chortling and more giggles echoing through the partially deserted town.