Read Online On the Rocks: A Willa Cather and Edith Lewis Mystery by Sue Hallgarth - Free Book Online Page A

not their cottage. What mattered was where she had been, not where the cottage stood. Edith wished briefly that before they left, they had gotten out her easel and repositioned it in the spot she had been the previous afternoon. But had she done that, Edith guessed, they probably would not have been able to see the easel from this distance, even with binoculars. After all, she had barely been able to make out the red shirt and the business suit, and she supposed her body would have been pretty well camouflaged by tall grass and underbrush. The easel too.
    “It could have happened here,” Willa broke in again. “Both the weir and our cliff would have direct views. And if Mr. Brown had been talking to the red shirt from where I am,” Willa spoke from her rock, “you would not have been able to see him, would you?”
    T HE second outcropping of spruce, about ten yards further on, turned out to be less promising. Standing in the open area there they found themselves more likely to face toward Ashburton Head than Whale Cove. Willa tried but found no comfortable spot for sitting and no easy access to the woods behind.
    “Let’s go back to the first place for another look,” Willa suggested. “That must be the spot.”
    Twice more they retraced their steps, then settled together on the first site. Besides the three spruce and a few patches of grass, the area totaled probably less than a hundred square feet of almost solid rock, its bit of surface dirt packed tight. The trail ran in varying degrees near the edge for twelve feet or so then swung back in again toward the woods behind. They were approximately twenty feet south of the waterfalls.
    With the site determined, they separated to comb the area carefully. They could hear the waterfall and the waves below and an occasional cry from a gull off shore. They had no idea what to look for. Scuff marks, perhaps, a drop of blood, a fallen pen knife, a gun. Nothing appeared to give them a clue.
    Twenty minutes later, Edith broke their silence. “I do believe this is the right place,” she stood at the edge of the cliff, her hands on her hips, looking down to determine the trajectory of Mr. Brown’s fall and the site of his landing, “but I do not understand why we are finding no sign of their being here.”
    “It seems likely that neither Mr. Brown nor the person in the red shirt took time to tidy up.”
    Edith smiled at Willa’s joke. It was a very long way down, and even at full tide, Edith guessed, the larger rocks along the base of the cliff would signal their danger, their formidable heads rising well above the incoming waves. Edith couldn’t imagine anyone being careless enough to stand as close to the edge as she was now, certainly not someone in city shoes. But then Mr. Brown hadn’t stood near the edge, had he. He had come from somewhere behind, suddenly and fast. Edith turned her head to look back. Why?
    R OB F EENEY retrieved a paper clip from the top drawer of his desk and attached the passenger list to the names of the crew members who had made the crossing the day before with Mr. John T. Brown. Then he drew out a pen and added his own name to those of the crew. So few passengers and no strangers among the crew, but Mark Daggett eventually would want to know who they all were, Rob was sure of that. Daggett was a thorough man. He was probably already busy finding out who on the island knew Mr. John T. Brown and why he had been on the cliff at Seven Days Work. Rob would have the lists ready when Daggett came by, whenever that might be.
    Later that afternoon, Rob thought, he would drop by for a visit with Miss Edith. What a frightening experience she had just had witnessing Mr. Brown’s demise. Rob caught an inner glimpse of the ashen face he often saw arriving on the S. S. Grand Manan and smiled at the set of its lips. Tough lady, Rob heard himself saying and realized that Miss Edith didn’t need sympathy. And, he reminded himself, Miss Willa didn’t like