An Unfinished Storm, page 5
“I think she’s going to be interviewing us,” said Tish.
“They always think that,” said Tobias cheerfully.
Tish was about to give up and go talk to Nash, but he was on the phone and seemed to be doing a lot of eye-rolling. The minutes ticked by, and eventually, Tish saw the detective walking back down the path from the tower. Pamela Warshaw looked well-tailored but practical except for the police-issue baseball cap, which was still very stiff-brimmed.
“What do you think is with the hat?” asked Tish. “It doesn’t seem to go with her ensemble.”
“It does look a bit… fresh,” said Tobias. “Hard to tell with her kind of individual, though.”
“Granddad, what did that mean?”
“Policemen are not known for their sartorial skills.”
“Police officers,” whispered Tish, trying to get the gender-neutral label in before the detective came into hearing range.
“All right,” said the detective, stopping in front of them and scrutinizing her notebook without looking up.
Tish looked from the new detective to the Sheriff’s vehicle—where Nash was leaning against the hood with his arms crossed—and back.
“Yearlys…” the detective said, flipping to a fresh page.
“Yes, Yearlys, but where is Detective Spring?” asked Tish.
“He’s out on medical leave,” said Pamela, giving Tish’s outfit the once over.
“Ah!” exclaimed Tobias. “He must have finally committed to the knee replacement surgery. I’ll have to call him.”
A sour look crossed the detective’s face.
Someone doesn’t like that we’ve got Spring’s number.
“He was debating ceramic versus titanium,” said Tobias, turning to Tish. “I want to hear how it goes. The doc said last time that I might be able to upgrade because there have been advancements since the last plane crash.”
“The last plane crash?” demanded Pamela. “How many have there been?”
“Just the six. We don’t count the other three since they never got off the tarmac.”
She’s considering how to respond. She thinks Granddad’s messing with her, and she’s not wrong, but he’s also not lying.
“Let’s get back on topic,” said the detective.
Oooh. Look who’s refusing to take the bait.
“Miss Yearly, if you could wait over there with Deputy Nash,” the detective pointed to the Sheriff’s vehicle, “I’ll talk to you after I finish taking Mr. Yearly’s statement.”
“Uh…” said Tish.
“Oh, I don’t think I could possibly feel strong enough without Tish’s support,” said Tobias cheerfully. “I’m old and frail.”
“Mr. Yearly, it sounds less believable when you announce it so loudly.”
“We do need to work on your delivery,” agreed Tish.
“Doesn’t have to sound believable,” said Tobias, cheerful. “Just has to be said. I want Tish to stay.”
“Well, I’m the detective, and I say no.”
“Oh. Too bad. Tish call Sam. Tell her the police are harassing me again and to dig up all the paperwork from last time.”
“I’m not harassing you. I’m attempting to eliminate unnecessary people from this investigation. And I would like to get the two of you off my crime scene as soon as possible. And back to your lives.”
The last part was said through clenched teeth.
“It’s easier if you give in,” said Tish. “Didn’t Peter say that in his notes?”
“Detective Spring has his methods. I have mine.”
So he did say that, but you’re choosing to ignore it.
“Why are you here, Miss Yearly? The call report didn’t mention you—just Mr. Yearly and a Ms. Meadows.”
“I called her,” said Tobias.
“Do you usually answer for your granddaughter?” asked Pamela drily.
“Only when I think she’s going to be rude to the police,” said Tobias. “She has a little bit of an authority problem.”
“Must be genetic,” said the detective.
“Oh, yes, yes, I agree,” said Tobias, nodding. “Her grandmother was very anti-establishment.”
Tish tried to smother a laugh behind her hand but only partially succeeded. She cleared her throat and pretended to cough.
“So glad the death of a human being is amusing to both of you,” said Pamela.
“It isn’t, actually,” said Tobias, “but then, neither is a police detective who is too busy protecting their territory to talk to witnesses like human beings.”
And boom. You just got Granddaded. That one is going on Twitter.
“The problem is that you two aren’t witnesses or human beings. You’re private investigators. That makes you professionally up in my territory, and I don’t particularly feel the need to share.”
“I’m not a private investigator. I’m a producer,” said Tish. “Of the movie the deceased is supposed to be directing, and Granddad discovered the body. Like it or not, we’re involved.”
“And I would like to get you uninvolved as soon as possible. So, if you would wait over there next to your boyfriend, I’ll get to you after I’ve taken the witness’s statement.”
Tish looked at Tobias. They could dig in. Being annoying AF was a Yearly specialty, but was antagonizing the detective worth it? Tobias raised an eyebrow, and Tish nodded.
Not worth it.
Tish walked past the detective, pretending to head for Nash, but after a few steps, she veered off and headed for Tobias’s truck and Brianna.
But also not going to do what I’m told.
Nash raised an eyebrow as she went past but didn’t move.
It’s possible that I do have an authority problem.
Brianna opened the car door as she approached.
“Hi, Tish,” she said with a sad smile. Brianna’s hair was up in a ponytail, and she managed to nail the vacation beach vibe with linen trousers. “I can’t believe this. I just can’t believe it.”
“Yes, it’s very upsetting,” said Tish, and Brianna looked up at her with a quizzical expression.
“Tobias said the same thing.”
“Well, it is upsetting?” offered Tish, not sure where to go with the comment.
“Yes, but I think what you both meant is that it’s upsetting for other people.”
Shit. Totally got called out.
“Um… It’s not that it’s not upsetting. It’s just that the only help we can offer now is to help find the killer.”
“Yes, but you both are not upset by the physical reality of seeing a body. I’m afraid I had to sit here and think about not throwing up for a while.”
“Oh. That kind of upsetting. Yeah. That’s a reality. How are you feeling? I’m sure I can find you some water.”
“As long as I think about other things, then I’m all right. Mostly, I’m looking at pictures of my daughter.”
“Is that her?” asked Tish, smiling at the photo on Brianna’s phone. It showed a bouncy-haired teen in a cheerleader uniform.
“It’s been a while since she looked like that,” said Brianna, looking at the photo with a nostalgic smile.
“I think that every time I see my high school photos,” said Tish with a laugh. “Sometimes I think I look like a completely different person.”
“Yes,” agreed Brianna, shutting her phone off. “It’s hard not to miss those days.”
“I think that’s the parent in you,” said Tish. “I don’t miss the days of zits and endless ruminating on whether or not he really liiiiiiikes me.”
Brianna laughed. “Yes, it’s definitely the parent in me. But what do you think happened to Skip? You don’t really think he was murdered, do you?”
“Um… I mean… It’s possible Skip climbed out over the parapet and fell, but it’s actually pretty hard to fall off that tower. Otherwise, I would have died about eighty times over when I was nine, and Nash wouldn’t have made it past twelve.”
“Oh,” said Brianna.
“Um, I wanted to warn you that the police detective seems a bit… brusque. So you might need to bring some press junket attitude to the situation. She’s just grumpy because she doesn’t like Granddad and me.”
Brianna’s forehead managed a wrinkle. “Why wouldn’t she like you?”
“Mmm… you may not have noticed this about us, but we are somewhat lacking in our ability to follow rules and toe lines, which annoys law enforcement personnel.”
“But didn’t Tobias say you’re dating law enforcement personnel?”
“Yes, but Nash reads a lot of books.”
Brianna stared at her, and Tish tried to come up with another answer because it seemed like one was expected.
Nope, I’ve got nothing.
“So, anyway, if you say that you just met us, she might like you better. But mostly, just answer her questions, and we’ll get you back to the hotel.”
“But Tish,” said Brianna, “what are we going to do about the movie?”
We’re screwed. The movie is dead, along with Skip. I was delusional up there with Grandad. There’s no way I can salvage this situation. Face facts.
“Well, this is why studios have insurance. I’ll see what I can do about keeping us afloat. Maybe they can ship us a new director, but it might just be that this movie wasn’t destined to get off the ground.”
Brianna nodded. “It’s really too bad. It had such promise.”
At least it did until Skip got ahold of it.
“I wonder what he was even doing up there,” said Brianna. “He wasn’t usually a morning person.”
“No, definitely not,” agreed Tish.
Brianna smiled and shrugged. “He was probably reviewing the shooting plan for today.”
“Or new ways to screw up the shooting plan.”
“Oh, Tish,” sighed Brianna.
“Yeah, sorry,” said Tish, realizing the thought had been tactless, if honest. “I’m going to talk to Nash for a minute. Like I said, maybe distance yourself from us, and the detective will untwist her knickers.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Brianna, looking amused.
Tish backed away and turned back to Nash. He gave her a raised eyebrow, and Tish made a face. What she wanted right now was a hug. The detective knew she was dating Nash, so that could probably be OK.
She had almost made it to the bastion of safety that was Nash, when she heard her grandfather raise his voice.
“Well, detective, why don’t you just write up my statement for me since you know so much!”
She paused in mid-stride, her eyes locked on Nash.
“So close,” he said, shaking his head.
“But so far,” she agreed and turned back around.
Chapter 7
Repercussions
Tobias was already stumping her direction, his eyebrows set to furious.
“She said I was prejudiced!” he barked at her.
“Well, I mean… Everyone has a little—”
Tobias gaped at her. “I am not! Sam is my lawyer. I support all the alphabets!”
“Oh. That kind of prejudiced. Um… I think maybe they wouldn’t like being referred to as alphabets?”
“Well, I will stop saying that when they stop adding letters.”
I am not laughing. That is not appropriate. An ally would not laugh. Oh, God, this is really hard.
“Gah!” Tobias waved his cane in fury and headed for his truck. Brianna was getting out and staring at the commotion.
“Well, Ms. Yearly,” said the detective, approaching in his wake, “do you have something to say about my hat?”
Tish looked at the hat in consternation. “Uh… It looks new? I don’t really…”
Pamela stared at Tish, and Tish stared back. She had no idea what Tobias had said, but if he was being offensive on purpose, then the list could be extensive.
“Why are you here?” demanded Pamela.
“Skip is the director on Wind Above the Sea. I’m the producer. Granddad called me when they found the body. After he called the police.”
“Wind Above the Sea?”
“Title of the movie. Did Granddad say something about you people?”
Pamela’s face went stoically blank.
“I’m not saying it’s necessarily better, but he probably meant police officers. Everyone else is just people.”
“There is nothing wrong with being a police officer!”
“Nothing that great about it either,” said Tish. “It’s just a job. Is this really what you want to talk about?”
“No, I want to know why you’re here!”
“I told you. Skip is my director. We’re supposed to be shooting here today. In fact, I’m going to have crew showing up here in about an hour if I don’t start calling people.”
Pamela tapped her pen on her notebook. “So, if you’re not expected to start shooting for another hour, why was Skip here early?”
“I don’t know. But he looked, you know… stiff. I was thinking he might have been here last night.”
“Oh, and how many dead bodies have you seen?”
“Um…” Tish tried to count that up. “Four. I guess. Sort of five. They wouldn’t let me look at Mars’s body. Probably just as well. I don’t really want to think about it.”
There was more tapping. Tish had no response for tapping, so she went back to her original topic.
“Anyway, Skip wasn’t very bendy, and the blood looked dry. When will Mitch come back with a TOD?”
“Dr. Haverson,” said Pamela, enunciating the Island County Coroner’s title clearly, “will tell me the time of death when he sees fit.”
Well, excuse the crap out of me. If Mitch doesn’t have a problem with me using his name, I don’t know why you do.
“When was the last time you saw the deceased?”
“Yesterday about four-thirty. He stormed off set because I told him he couldn’t sexually harass people.”
“Did he usually do that?”
“As far as I can tell, yes. I’ve never worked with him before, but the implication seems to be that he’s a walking MeToo violation and a general asshole while also being a talented director. Can’t say I saw much of his talent.”
“I meant storm off the set.”
“Oh. No? He usually just took an early dinner or lunch or whatever. Didn’t bother with storming.”
“I’ll need to talk to anyone who could have seen him after he left.”
Tish shrugged. “Knock yourself out. Pretty sure the island is used to it at this point.”
“Hey, Detective Warshaw,” said Mitch, jogging down the path from the summit in his white bunny suit. “Hey Tish! What did I say about getting you a punch card? Stop finding bodies for me!”
“It was Granddad this time!”
“We’ll just put all the Yearlys on one card. Find a dozen bodies, and the thirteenth autopsy is on me!”
Tish laughed as Mitch jogged by.
“I’m just going to grab a few things from the van, but I’ll let you know my best guess on TOD as soon as I can!”
Oh, my God, I’m trying not to laugh. I think her eye is starting to twitch. She’s even more peeved off than Detective Spring on his first outing with us.
“No,” snapped the detective. “They are not police personnel!”
“Yeah, of course!” said Mitch, miming a big thumbs up, and Tish suspected that even the detective could tell it was a complete lie. Pamela growled in anger.
“Anyway,” said Tish, “you were going to ask people about Skip?”
“Yes, I’ll need you to make a list of who talked to him.”
“Oh. I don’t know who talked to him. He was staying in a rental in West Sound. But I don’t know where he went after he left the set.”
“Well, then where did you go?”
“I went to Nash’s for a few minutes and then had dinner at the Orcas Hotel. Then I went home, talked to Granddad for a little bit, and went to bed.”
I want to say that her face is going to get stuck like that, but I think it’s too late.
“Thanks, you can go now.”
“Gee, can I, really? How nice of you. Oh, wait, just like Dorothy, I could leave at any time. It was always within my power.”
Wizard of Oz, 1939. Yes, I am a friend to the friends of Dorothy, but you are being a bitch.
“What about Dorothy?”
Tish realized with startling clarity that she and the detective were not speaking the same language.
“I… Can’t talk to you,” said Tish. “You’re not my kind of people.”
“Sorry, my hat doesn’t say MAGA,” snapped the detective.
“What?” Tish blinked at the detective in confusion. “Oh. This is how Granddad ended up here. OK. Well…”
I feel a deep need to explain myself, and I somehow think that will not go well at all.
“I’m going to back away slowly,” said Tish, matching her movements to her words. “Nash usually keeps a vegan protein bar in his glove box. You know, in case that’s of interest. OK, bye.”
She could feel Pamela’s eyes on her all the way over to her grandfather’s truck.
“How’d it go?”
“Same as you. That really got weird in a hurry. I suggested she get a granola bar out of Nash’s glove box in case she was hangry.”
Tobias chuckled, but Tish shrugged.
“It works on Claire. And to be honest, most of the other people I know. Hunger rage is real. Still not sure what was up with her hat.”
“Who knows,” said Tobias sourly. “At this point, I think we should head out and start trying to figure out how Skip got here. Whatever clues are here at the scene, we’ve either seen them already and don’t know it, or we’ve missed them. But if we didn’t catch something, she’s not about to tell us about it. So there’s no point in staying. Plus, I want to get Brianna home.”
