seemed smaller in person than in the papers. Medium height, medium build, brown hair, pleasant features. He seemed way too cheerful for anyone arriving at a site where a woman had been found severed in two, but he was talking to Clara Avery, and he was smiling and laughing.
“I wanted to buy the cruise line and try to hire you on for every show ever done!” he was telling her.
To her credit, Clara looked incredibly uncomfortable and overwhelmed. Her costars appeared to be baffled. A skinny, frazzled young woman stood slightly behind him, hugging an agenda, bored and anxious at the same time.
“Mr. Kimball?” Thor said.
The man stopped speaking and turned to him. “And you are?” he asked sharply.
“Special Agent Thor Erikson, in charge of the murder investigation on the island,” Thor said, keeping his voice level.
“Ah, yes. Of course, well, please tell me that you plan to bring this awful affair to a speedy resolution!” Kimball said. He smiled suddenly. It wasn’t a warm and cuddly smile. It had as much ice in it as the glaciers that loomed around the bay.
“Indeed we do. Why are you here?”
“I own the place!”
“I’m aware of that, Mr. Kimball. But at the moment, you have rented the property out,” Thor said.
“Not to the FBI.”
“No, sir, to Miss Fontaine. Who is dead. This is an active and intense investigation. I’m sure that my colleagues in Seward have spoken with you,” Thor said.
Thor kept his features carefully controlled. On the one hand, he was irritated. He’d met with men like Kimball before. They were accustomed to walking into a room and taking charge. Money seemed to cow many people.
But he was also amused. Thor was flanked by Jackson and Mike. He knew that they were a formidable trio and that Kimball was sizing them up. His zillions of dollars and attorneys could probably make many things happen, but at the moment, he was just facing the three of them.
“As this horrible thing occurred on my property, I came here as quickly as I could. I am an absentee landlord most of the time, Special Agent—Erkson?”
“Erikson,” Thor said pleasantly.
“I’m here to help in any way that I possibly can. I bought Black Bear Island because I truly love it. I know it like the back of my hand. I can help you search the island. I can tell you where little caches of survival supplies can be found. There is a great deal I can do to help you.”
Thor became aware that, despite the state police officers assigned to keep everyone separated, the crew members from Wickedly Weird Productions were also in the room watching what was going on—gaping a bit.
Along with the police officers.
He figured it was natural. Kimball was almost as rich as Donald Trump, or so the media claimed.
“Thank you again, sir. We appreciate your offer,” Thor said. “I believe, for now, the best we can ask is that you settle into your home for the night. Officers will be on guard. In the morning, they’ll be renewing their search of the island. If you’re willing to help with that search and remain with the officers, it will be deeply appreciated.”
“However,” Jackson said, stepping forward, “we have to warn you that we don’t know what we’re dealing with—”
“She was chopped in half!”
He turned. Becca Marle was standing there, staring at Kimball in awe, and yet horrified anew as she voiced a fact of the murder.
“The point is,” Jackson continued, “any search for this killer might be highly dangerous, and perhaps, for a man of your standing, not advisable.”
Kimball wasn’t a fool. “Agent... I didn’t catch your name, sir. You are...?”
“Assistant Director Crow,” Jackson said.
“I believe you’re not referring to the importance of me in the world, sir, but rather to the fact that you don’t believe I’m capable of defending myself. I am happy to advise you that I am a crack shot and have trained with some of the finest experts in the world in martial arts and various other forms of self-defense. I can provide documentation as to my prowess, if you wish.”
“We’ll take a signature on a waiver that you’ve chosen to work with law enforcement,” Thor told the man.
“I shall sign that I insist,” Kimball said. He looked at his watch. “Are you gentlemen aware of the time?”
Actually, he wasn’t, Thor realized.
“Nearly midnight,” Kimball continued. “Perhaps, with your permission, I can assign rooms to the people here, since—even with my boat and the vessels the Coast Guard can surely supply you—it might now be better for them all to remain in the safety of so many fine officers for the evening. Let them have a few hours of sleep, at the least.”
“We did have the place rented... We thought we might stay tonight. That, of course, was what Natalie wanted to do,” Becca said, her words ending in a sob.
Nate might be an extraordinary fabricator of stage and scene works, but he hadn’t seemed much like the demonstrative type, and he probably wasn’t; he awkwardly patted her shoulder.
“There are eight bedrooms and my master suite,” Kimball said. “And of course, the kitchen room, where Justin and Magda stay. I can’t accommodate all the officers here—”
“The officers are here to be on duty,” Mike interrupted. “We spell one another, and chairs and couches do us just fine.”
“As to the others, I believe it is up to them. We can arrange for the Coast Guard to get everyone back to Seward,” Thor said.
“But, they’re welcome to stay!” Kimball protested.
“I’m glad to stay,” Becca said. “Delighted, really. We have law enforcement here—it’s safe!”
“Whatever,” Tommy said with a shrug.
“Lord, yes!” Ralph said, looking over at Clara, Simon and Larry with excitement.
Clara was silent; she didn’t look at all thrilled.
Simon murmured, “Sure.”
And Larry said, “At this point and this time, yeah.”
“Wonderful!” Kimball said. “I’m assuming that during the day you’ve availed yourself of the kitchen, so you’re aware that the place is always well stocked. There are four rooms to the left of the kitchen and dining area and four beyond my office. Perhaps assign an officer to each hallway? Though I doubt that a cowardly killer would darken a door here, not with so many fine agents of the law in residency.”
His tone and word choice were irritating beyond measure.
But his offer made sense; it was late. They’d been debating themselves the best course
