Read Online Murder Walks the Plank by Carolyn Hart - Free Book Online Page A

Annie’s big flashlight. “Okay”—his tone was demanding—“here we are. I don’t see nothin’ that isn’t what it should be. The chains are up, the rails in place.”
    Annie swung her light toward the tarp-covered lifeboat beyond a chain. “Billy should be up here. Taking pictures. Looking for fingerprints. Figuring out what happened.”
    Max leaned against the railing, hands in his pockets. “Annie…”
    She jerked toward him, hearing a world of comment in the sound of her name: caution, concern, and—most disturbing—patience. His gaze was kind, his dark blue eyes filled with understanding. And resistance.
    â€œMax”—her voice was strained—“surely you don’t believe Pamela jumped.” Before he could answer, she pointed at the lifeboat. “That kid—Cole Crandall—was up here on pickpocket patrol for Billy, but Cole said he didn’t see Pamela. Yet this is the spot where she must have gone overboard for him to turn around and spot her in midair. Where was she right before she fell?”
    Max frowned at the projection of deck that curved over the water and was roped off by a chain. His gaze was measuring. “She must have climbed over the chain—or ducked under it—and squeezed past the lifeboat. She could have crouched behind the lifeboat and he wouldn’t have seen her. If she did, that means she was trying not to be noticed. If she hid behind the lifeboat, she meant to jump. Why else would she go out there?”
    Ben’s grizzled head nodded emphatically. “Clear as clear. Annie—”
    She bridled at Ben’s patronizing tone, gave him glare for glare.
    â€œâ€”you got murder on the brain. The poor lady decided to jump. Some people can’t get out on dark water at night without feeling lonesome and blue.” His raspy voice was mournful. “You know she ain’t got nobody at home. Her ma went and died last year, and maybe she got tired of always being an outsider—”
    Annie bit her lip, a sudden vision of Pamela walking alone into church, smiling, nodding, but yes, she was always alone, doing good works but coming and going by herself. Annie stopped the beam of light on the small sign that dangled from the chain:
    OFF-LIMITS
    The bright red letters glistened against a white background.
    â€œNo.” Annie spoke with certainty. “Pamela wouldn’t go past the chain. Look at that sign! It means ‘Don’t go there.’ Pamela followed the rules. All the rules. All the time. She would not go past that chain.”
    Max’s glance was still kindly. “Okay, let’s say she didn’t jump. You say there’s no way she would commit suicide. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe her hat blew off. Maybe she was trying to catch it.”
    When Pamela lay unmoving on the table, wrapped in the blanket, her wet head was bare. The hat might have come loose as she fell or when she went into the water. No matter. Annie was adamant. “She wouldn’t go past the chain. Not for her hat. Not for her purse.” As Annie spoke, she moved to the chain, swung her leg over it. She ignored the calls from behind her—
    â€œCareful now, missy.” Ben’s shoes clumped on the deck.
    â€œAnnie, watch out!” Max’s tone was sharp.
    â€”and pointed the sharp white beam at the painted surface. Ben and Max were right to warn her. The metal was damp and slippery as a slick skillet from the night air and sea mist. She leaned against the lifeboat, edged forward. Okay, the critical point was that Pamela wouldn’t step over the chain. The men, including Max, dismissed Annie’s claim that she knew what Pamelawould and wouldn’t do. Fine. But Annie knew she was right. The sun came up in the east, Max loved her, and Pamela Potts followed the rules. So if Pamela didn’t step over the chain, how did she get out on this ledge?
    Annie