Chapter 35

Is that my cell phone ringing?

Julie stumbled out of bed, fished around in her purse, and pulled out the phone. It was too late. She checked the caller ID.

Area code 305? Isn’t that Miami?

Half asleep, she called the number. It rang just once.

“Hello?” a familiar voice said.

“This is Julie O’Hara,” she said.

“Merlin! It’s Joe!”

“Hi…Are you in Miami?”

“Yes. I’m at Will Sawyer’s house. “We’re flying to Castle Cay this morning. We’re just heading for the airport now. I saw the news about David’s arrest on TV! What’s happening?”

“I don’t know anymore than you do, Joe.” said Julie. “I did meet Jake Goldman, though. He seems like a good attorney. Poor David is beside himself with worry. I’m hoping he’ll be out on bail later today.”

“I hope so, too,” he said.

“Julie, did you say that there’s a caretaker on Castle Cay?”

“Yes. John Drum. His wife’s name is Mary…and there’s a boy, Alfred.”

“Okay. We’ll get some aerial shots and I’ll try to talk to him,” he said. “I’ve got to go, Merlin. Will’s waiting for me. Be sure you tell Jake Goldman about the island, and Holiday’s offer to buy it. A deal that big…it’s hard to imagine it’s not connected. Gotta go. I’ll call you when I get back. “

They hung up, and Julie thought about all the people and events cropping up in her investigation. She showered and dressed quickly. Then she put on a pot of coffee, and went up to Marc’s studio.

The loft had large, sliding windows all around. Outside, the storm shutters were lifted high, cranked fully open. The view of the Gulf was spectacular. An unfinished canvas was on the easel, and Marc’s voice echoed faintly…“I love the sunset after a storm…” Julie inhaled sharply, closed her eyes and turned away from the painting.

Finished canvases were stacked, one after another, on a rack in the right corner of the room. A counter ran along two of the walls, just under the windows. Art supplies filled the shelves below: canvas and wood, smooth boards, pads, papers, palettes, etc. On the top, more supplies: oil and acrylic paints, watercolor paints, brushes of every size and shape…and cans, cans, everywhere.

Julie saw the items she had come up for: a large, white sheet of heavy paper, a fat pencil and a roll of masking tape. She brought them all downstairs, and taped the sheet of paper to the refrigerator.

There. Now I’m going to organize this...

The phone rang. It was Rolly, worried about David.

Julie told him that she didn’t know anything that wasn’t on the news, except that she expected David to be out on bail later in the day. Rolly asked her to have David call him as soon as he could.

Were they lovers when Marc was alive?

The phone rang again.

It was David’s mother in Illinois. She was hysterical. Julie explained who she was, and told her David’s arrest was a terrible mistake, that he would be home later today, and that she shouldn’t worry….and yes, of course, she would have him call her right away.

She hung up again.

And the phone rang again!

The Caller ID said, “Key West Citizen”, a local newspaper.

This time Julie didn’t pick it up.

She began her chart.

I’m going to assume David is innocent, in spite of his relationship with Rolly. I have to find out how long that’s been going on. Still, I don’t think it matters. David is grieving for Marc.

So…if there was no forced entry, and no one but Marc and David had a key…then Marc had to let someone in, right? Someone he knew.

Oh, God. That could be anybody! Never mind, I’ll put in what I know.

Julie listed the few names she had: Avram Solomon, Frank Martino, Rolly Archer and Susan Dwyer.

In her own shorthand, she filled in everything she knew about them, including events and possible connections: The Solomon auto dealerships, the sale of Castle Cay, the Sandpiper Art Gallery and Marc’s Boston show.

Meanwhile, the phone kept on ringing.

Around noontime, David came home.

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