While she sat, she glanced around the compact lot. Rose’s small white Fiat with the Maine license plates wasn’t there. If he could be believed, Rex did not have a vehicle on either side of the channel. Besides, the two pickups and single SUV that now sat in the lot were old and rusty—typical of vehicles that had logged lots of miles on remote island roads, not of one belonging to a former restaurant celeb from the city.
It was odd, she supposed, that only three vehicles were in the lot, Saturday being the busiest day of Christmas in Edgartown, and two weeks before Christmas itself. Annie wondered if it was because most folks who lived on Chappy were scouring the Vineyard’s north side, hunting for Bella. That morning, as she’d walked through the great room, she’d overheard a man she’d recognized but didn’t know suggest canvassing the vacant summer houses and cottages on Chappy—which Annie presumed were numerous.
Resting her forehead on the steering wheel now, she let herself cry a little. Not a sobbing, noisy, all-out cry, but more like a whimper of exhaustion and frustration. It was interrupted when she heard theOn Timechug back into its berth.
She wiped her eyes, inhaled, and got out of the Jeep. She left the engine running.
Captain Joe, Lottie Nelson’s husband, was working the day shift. Annie had come to know the family fairly well; they were good people, good neighbors.
“Annie!” he shouted when he saw her. “Any word yet?”
It made sense that Joe knew about Bella’s disappearance. In addition to the grapevine, he must have ferried many of the volunteers.
“Afraid not,” she replied. “But I’m trying to find one of our tenants. I think we got our wires crossed. There’s so much going on.”
“Who you looking for?”
“Rose Atkins. She drives a little white Fiat. You know her?”
“I know the car, but not the woman. Haven’t seen it today, though. Sorry.” He signaled a lone Toyota that it was okay to board.
“I think she went over last night. Do you know who was on then?”
The Toyota drove onto the raft of a ferry, and Joe hooked the canvas strip across the boarding ramp. “That’d be Captain Fred. I can shoot him a text. Will that help?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Instead of heading out, Joe stopped what he was doing, pulled out his phone, and looked to be busy texting. He signaled Annie to wait in the lot; then theOn Timeengine gulped a few times and came back to life, and off it went toward Edgartown.
Annie returned to the Jeep and got inside to get warm. While she sat there, she thought about Rose. The truth was, she couldn’t imagine what the woman’s motive could be to kidnap Bella. Nor could she picture her actually taking the child, any more than she could picture Rex doing it. Just because their personalities were quirky, it didn’t make them villains. Annie had created enough shady characters in her books to know that.
Thinking of her books, she was reminded of Trish. And of the big deal that awaited Annie’s blessing. If only she had the time to think about it with a clear head that wasn’t jammed up with thoughts of Bella. So jammed up, in fact, she hadn’t even thought about the wedding. She hoped that John wouldn’t feel slighted if he knew that. Then again, she doubted he’d thought about it, either.
By the time she looked back to the ferry berth, theOn Timewas docking again. Annie got out of the Jeep and was assaulted by a wind gust that hadn’t been there three minutes earlier. She walked to the shack next to the berth and took shelter. From there she could tell that Joe had no vehicles or walk-ons on board.
Joe waved, and Annie moved from the shelter close to the pilings.
“He said yes,” Joe shouted. “A woman in a white Fiat went over last night on the ten o’clock. She didn’t go back on the eleven, and there weren’t any emergency calls during the night. I’ve been on all morning and haven’t seen her, so she’s not back on Chappy unless she left her car at the wharf and swam across.”
Annie offered a weak smile and thanked him. Then she went back to the Jeep, wondering where the heck Rose Atkins had gone. And why—unless it really had been due to the “ruckus,” as she’d claimed. But if she’d gone to Edgartown last night, what would have stopped her from taking the early boat out of Vineyard Haven this morning and leaving the island completely? Annie doubted that John would have thought he needed to interrogate the entire Steamship Authority queue to see if someone connected to Bella’s disappearance had been trying to escape. Besides, who would have thought that Rose, of all people, would need to sneak away?
Then another thought surfaced: should Annie unlock Rose’s room and peek inside? Though Lucy and the cops from Oak Bluffs had examined all the rooms, as far as Annie knew, they’d only been looking for Bella. Annie could poke through Rose’s things and perhaps find a clue, unless she had taken her belongings with her—which, of course, would suggest much more than a clue. Of course, Annie would be breaking the unwritten Innkeeper’s rule not to trespass on a guest’s or a tenant’s space (she’d done that once before with nearly fatal results), but this wasn’t about being nosy. Bella’s life could be at stake.
And some things were worth taking a chance for.
Revving the engine, she drove back to the Inn faster than she should have.
Chapter 31
Since Rose had moved into the Inn for the eight-month, off-season stint, Annie hadn’t been inside her room. Long-term guests were expected to clean their own spaces; cleaning supplies were kept in the upstairs hall closet for them to use whenever they wanted. So far, Annie hadn’t had any complaints from tenants about any of the others’ housekeeping habits, not that they’d know for sure. But unless there were aromas from cooking (which was prohibited in the rooms) or any dubious odors wafting throughout the second floor, cleanliness was assumed. And privacy was honored.
But Annie saw no good reason to care about that now.
Because it was nearing lunchtime, the kitchen was a cauldron of activity. Several new volunteers had arrived; she nodded a quick hello and thanked them for their help as she passed through the great room and went toward the reception area at the front door. Once there, she looked over both shoulders and up the staircase. When she was certain no one was nearby, she unlocked the reception desk, shuffled through the duplicate keys, and retrieved the one to room 2, Rose’s room. She slid it into her pocket, relocked the drawer, and breathed. She felt as if she were breaking and entering into her own home.
“Stay with me, Murph,” Annie whispered.
Murphy didn’t respond, which was exasperating given the circumstances and the number of times the two of them had performed questionable antics—mostly at Murphy’s bidding.
