Chapter 17: A String of Misdeeds

“I called you that?”

“I’ll admit it was upsetting, Hazel. Very upsetting,” Phinn declared. “Honestly, I’m disappointed in you.”

The teen detective kept an eye on their surroundings as they returned to Ellison House via the hiking trail. With Leighton helping escort Hazel, who had her hands tied behind her back, Phinn shone the flashlight in the direction of any noise in the woods. The redhead had been delayed in reaching the gazebo, in large part, by spotting a person in the nearby forest. She’d given chase until the anxious sleuth’s screams reached her.

“I’m…sorry. I don’t remember saying that. I swear!” Hazel denied, her eyes glistening yet again.

“It was hurtful,” Phinn responded, causing Leighton to roll her eyes in amusement.

“I’d never kill you. I swear!”

“But you did try to.”

“Yet, you’re more upset about Hazel calling you a white devil than trying to cut your heart out,” Leighton remarked, shaking her head.

“I didn’t try to do that!” the tied-up singer shrieked.

“I thought you didn’t remember anything?” Leighton challenged.

“I don’t! But I’d never kill a person. I couldn’t even harm an animal,” Hazel insisted, sobbing.

“I don’t explicitly know she planned to cut my heart out. It just seemed implied,” the bespectacled teen admitted. “She might have been merely planning to stab me in the heart.”

“Still, you’re more upset about her calling you a white devil? Normal people would focus on the knife part,” Leighton pointed out.

“It’s a dagger,” Phinn corrected, gesturing to his backpack.

“I’m not sure if you’re weirder than I recall, or if you’ve gotten worse.”

“Hey, I’ve been on hit lists since before puberty. It’s a byproduct of your investigations. You get used to it.”

“Is Jake used to it?” their client inquired.

“Jake’s different.”

“He’s sane,” Leighton muttered before Phinn swung around abruptly to shine the flashlight into a rather thick section of brush. “I wonder what Dusty or the Sassers think of it.”

“Go ahead. Ask away. Dusty or Jake never seem to attract as much hate as I do,” Phinn revealed, peering forward to check the forest before deciding he didn’t hear a person.

“I wonder why. Uh, are you sure this thing is safe?” Leighton asked, holding up the crystal ball. “It won’t start on fire or release more of that gas?”

“Doubtful. But I offered to wrap it inside the robe.”

“But not inside your backpack,” Leighton countered, shaking her head again. “Besides, Hazel needed the robe to cover herself.”

“Not my fault that she chose to wear that skimpy costume.”

“I didn’t choose to wear this! I don’t know where it came from, or how I got it on! It’s not mine!” Hazel squealed.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry. You didn’t pick it out,” Phinn said, holding his free hand up to calm her down. “I’m just saying…You’re a singer, and I don’t know what type of role-playing you might like in the bedroom.”

“I’m not into that!” Hazel denied.

“However, you are into role-playing lately, aren’t you? Adora mentioned turning you into an actress,” Phinn recalled, thinking back to when the women were sunbathing.

“I am,” the singer replied meekly. “Or I hope to be. I know Hollywood isn’t much better than the music industry, but I can’t deal with those men any longer.”

“I get the sense that you’re not confident about the switch,” Phinn speculated.

“No. I’ve been shy with terrible stage fright since I was little,” Hazel revealed.

“B-But you’re a singer!” Leighton pointed out, aware of her shyness, but not about the other part.

“When I sing, I transform. That’s how I can get through performances.”

“Ah, you transform from Hazel into Zarana. So it’s not just a stage name,” Phinn stated, pleased with the information.

“Something like that.”

“Now, I suspect that Flamand’s not only helping you deal with your trauma. He’s also helping with your stage fright and transition into acting, isn’t he?”

“He is! How did you know that?” Hazel asked, genuinely in awe of his deduction.

“Don’t ask. He’ll just pontificate,” Leighton warned.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Phinn argued, yet his face grew a slight shade of red in the moonlight. “It seems obvious. You put on a performance in the gazebo, not as a killer, but as a character in a scene. Have you been practicing reading scripts with Flamand?”

“Yes, we have…Wait, I know we have during my sessions, but I can’t recall what the roles are,” Hazel said, straining to remember what she practiced.

“Don’t overthink it. I have a good idea about what happened,” Phinn stated before turning toward Leighton. “What did you say this person had on again?”

“A dark red robe with a hood. Pretty similar to the one Hazel has on,” the redhead recounted. “Probably a slim person. It was hard to tell precisely.”

“That fits,” the secretive sleuth replied, not sharing anything else. “I wonder how Jake’s moonlight meeting went down.”

“Oh, no!” Leighton exclaimed, suddenly recalling that both investigators found notes.

“Um, I’m sorry. Did you say Jake was meeting someone, too?” Hazel asked.

Noting that Jake’s meeting started thirty minutes after his, Phinn wondered aloud about what Adora had waiting for his partner. The two young women’s minds both went in the same direction. Leighton also rightly worried about Troy. He’d clashed with Jake and Phinn already in fits of jealous rage.

The trio reached the trail exit near the Ellison backyard just past midnight. The house appeared to be dark, while cracks of light shone through the barn’s walls. Phinn immediately directed them to the barn, the location of Jake’s meeting.

“Put on clothes!”

The murderous screech caused Leighton and Phinn to share a look after they’d hurried past the stables. No matter what Jake had walked into, he must be alright, and Paisley had fulfilled her duty by appearing.

“I guess Jake’s not dead,” Phinn cracked, glancing up at the loft’s open windows.

“We’d better make sure Pais doesn’t finish him off,” her cousin added, helping Hazel, who stumbled on the uneven ground.

Entering the barn, the trio found a strange arrangement. Chained to the workshop, Troy demanded to be released, insisting that he had done nothing wrong. Adora stood in bewilderment, wearing a clingy, damp baby blue babydoll negligee. With her back to Jake, Paisley faced the couple.

“Um, so you’re sure you’ll be okay watching them while I go–”

“Yes! Go change!” Paisley shouted before noticing the newcomers. “Thank god!”

“It looks like we missed a party,” her cousin commented, barely able to hold back a huge grin upon spotting a stunned, naked Jake.

“Uh, I should get dressed.”

“Stop saying it, do it!” the ice queen yelled, still refusing to look at him.

“Right! Back in a jiffy.”

Leighton admired Jake’s toned figure and butt as he raced up the stairs to the loft. After her view vanished, the redhead turned toward her relative with a smirk. She asked if Phinn should strip to make things even.

“Eww! No!” the pale blonde squealed.

“Would you stop with the screaming?” Troy roared, rubbing his forehead.

Instead of responding, Paisley picked up a nearby hoe. Raising it slightly off the floor, she moved the implement in the direction of the other investigator.

“Make a move to undress, and I’ll hit you,” she warned.

“Simmer down. Unlike Jake, who probably undressed willingly, I had it done to me while ****,” Phinn relayed, gesturing toward Hazel.

“Haze!” Adora gasped, sounding surprised and impressed.

“I don’t remember doing it. I swear,’ the singer said, keeping her voice calm for Troy’s sake.

Up top in the loft, Jake burst through the doorway, shirtless, while buttoning his shorts.

“Phinn, you’ll never guess what happened!” the athletic detective announced, hurrying down the stairs.

“Let me guess. Adora seduced you, Troy found the two of you, and he tried to kill you,” Phinn speculated.

“You did what?!” Troy bellowed, suddenly piecing together an event he didn’t recall.

“I guess. I don’t know. It just happened. I don’t remember doing it,” Adora replied, not sounding as shocked or upset as Hazel did about her night.

“What…Whoa…Dammit! Why can’t you be surprised for once?” the blond-haired detective complained, muttering a few choice words under his breath.

“Oh, Phinn got surprised tonight,” Leighton revealed, chuckling. “He’s not infallible.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, let’s not act like you didn’t almost get me killed,” Phinn shot back before addressing his oldest friend. “Long story short, I got knocked out by some sleeping gas in that crystal ball, woke up tied to the gazebo table, and Hazel, acting as Zarana, Jungle Princess, planned to sacrifice me to her panther moon goddess.”

Holding up the crystal ball first, Leighton shifted to opening Hazel’s robe to reveal her costume. Adora gave the ensemble a double-take before smiling. Her boyfriend stared in admiration until he caught himself. Finally, Jake whistled.

“Wow, that sounds fantastic! Can I see it?” the stocky sleuth asked, motioning toward the crystal ball.

“It wasn’t fantastic. Hazel…sorry, Zarana, was a moment or two away from slamming a dagger into my heart,” Phinn explained, but his partner had moved onto a new toy.

“So, where does the sleeping gas come out?” Jake queried, lifting the stand high so that he could peer underneath. “You know, this reminds me of that clock that shot out those darts.”

“Right, that creepy clockmaker. But those were poisonous, not sleeping darts,” Phinn reminded.

“Ohmigawd! Are you crazy? You were both nearly killed,” Paisley pointed out.

“They’re not exactly normal,” Leighton agreed. “Are you going to do something about the **** attempts?”

The remaining two-thirds of Busybody, Inc. shared a look. Then, Phinn unzipped his backpack, pulling out the remaining pieces of rope that they hadn’t used to secure Hazel.

“You better tie her up, Jake,” the slim sleuth said, handing over the rope.

“Do I have to?” Jake questioned, leaning in to whisper. “It’s not like she tried to kill me. Is being sex-crazy really that dangerous?”

“Yes, it is. We don’t know what else they might do, so we can’t trust them. Rope her up, Magnum,” Phinn ordered.

“Shit,” Jake mumbled, turning to walk over to his most recent lover.

“You better fucking stay away from her! I mean it! Don’t touch my girlfriend,” Troy threatened.

“Troy, please,” the actress said, gesturing for him to calm down. As Jake opted to tie her hands in front of her body, she asked, “Not too tight, okay?”

Biting his lip, Jake held in a comment about her tightness and sexiness. Don’t say it. It would be rude, inappropriate, and ungentlemanly. Save the praise for later, and maybe some advice about making eye contact and being more vocal…or whatever.

“Alright, time to confront Flamand,” Phinn announced when Jake finished. “Paisley, you’ll have to stay here and watch our…guests.”

“Me? What if they go all psycho again?”

“They probably won’t,” Phinn replied with a shrug.

“Use the hoe. You’re pretty handy with one,” Jake suggested.

“Wh–What did you call my girlfriend?!”

“Oh, my…” Hazel trailed off, covering her mouth in shock.

“Troy!” Leighton admonished.

“I meant that!” Jake roared, jabbing his finger at the farm implement. “The thing Paisley used to knock you out cold!”

“Let it be,” Phinn directed, placing a hand on his friend’s arm before he could attack the bit-part actor.

“The hell?” Adora challenged, staring at her boyfriend, who suddenly seemed paralyzed by the mistake he’d made.

“Better grab a weapon. We don’t know how Flamand will react,” Phinn advised Jake and Leighton, although he opted to skip picking up an item.

Jake grabbed a hammer while the redhead selected a wrench. They swiftly closed the distance from the barn to the house’s side door. With a nod, the pair of detectives entered first, their eyes wary and their flashlights shining. Deciding to skip the more obvious route down the hallway, they cut through the dining room and library to reach the foyer. As they moved, Leighton patrolled their rear.

Their flashlights bobbed up and down as the stairs came next. Fortunately, the hallway to the old nursery was closest to the stairway. A whispered instruction led Leighton to watch Selene’s door around the corner while the two crime-solvers stealthily tiptoed down the hallway.

Using the sign language they concocted years ago, Phinn tested the doorknob. Suspecting a trap as the door sat unlocked, Phinn nodded at Jake before twisting the handle and shoving. Jake followed the door’s movement, rushing into Flamand’s office/bedroom. Phinn leaned around his larger friend, pointing his flashlight into the room.

“Empty,” Jake said, knowing to keep his voice low.

The pair of junior investigators repeated the room breach with the former governess’s bedroom. Both rooms were empty. Phinn gestured at Jake to check the balcony while he did the same with the hallway. No one had slipped out of the second room while they entered the first, nor had anyone escaped onto the balcony.

“Let Leighton know,” Phinn directed, immediately searching the current spiritual room.

By the time Jake returned, Phinn had finished searching the sparsely furnished room. With the additional manpower, they proceeded to toss Flamand’s room. However, it didn’t take long to realize they’d struck out. Phinn specified the missing case for Flamand’s crystals.

“He’s likely on the run by now.”

“Not even that eppie thing, or the bag that smelled of peanuts,” Jake pointed out. “I guess our surviving ruined his plans.”

“Killing us wouldn’t have made his problems go away. Even if he hid our bodies, the sheriff would’ve been called once we never reappeared,” Phinn explained. “No, the attack on us was probably intended to buy him extra time to get away clean.”

“I wonder if Selene will talk,” Jake replied.

“I suspect she’s gone too.”

Phinn’s guess proved correct. Instead of Selene, they found Leighton finishing a search of the assistant’s room. She threw up her hands, motioning toward the empty hangers in the closet and open drawers.

“All her clothes are gone. Although I did find those,” the redhead said, showing them a corner of the closet filled with telephones.

“Hand over that one with the speaker phone,” Phinn directed. Once he had the phone, the brainy sleuth turned to go downstairs.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Jake asked, with Leighton following them.

Phinn waited to speak until he led them through the foyer and library, finally stopping in the den. Right away, he unplugged the phone on the desk and replaced it with one that had a speakerphone.

“We need any information we can get.”

“Wait, you’re calling the girls? At this hour?” Jake questioned.

“It’s not even one in the morning. Do you really think the Sasser sisters are sleeping?” Phinn asked, pulling up the girls’ numbers on his cell phone. He decided to call Camryn. As the older sister, she fell into the unofficial leader slot.

It took six rings until someone answered on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” a male voice answered.

“Ollie? Put Camryn on,” Phinn directed, assuming the male sidekick of the Sassy Girls answered. With the loud voices and background music, he found it difficult to tell.

“No. Who’s this?” the male voice responded aggressively.

“Well, who’s this?” Phinn challenged, raising his eyebrow at Jake and Leighton. “Max?”

“Dante.”

“Oh, you’re still sniffing around,” Phinn responded sarcastically. Then he mouthed the name at Jake, which elicited a disgusted expression. “Put Cammie or Cassidy on the phone.”

“Not until you tell me who this is?” Camryn’s classmate demanded.

“Here, let me–” Jake started to say, while leaning forward to push the speaker phone button. However, Leighton hit it first.

“This is Leighton Ledford. Put Camryn on the phone now, creep!”

Several mutters could be heard over the phone, but Leighton stopped Jake from responding. Instead, Camryn got on the line about two minutes later.

“Leighton!” What’s happening, girl?”

Jake grinned at their friend’s extra cheerful voice. Camryn had served as cheer captain until graduating from high school a few weeks ago. While Phinn frowned, Leighton greeted her fellow Camp Little Weasel alumnus.

“I’m here with Phineas and Jake. They wanted to ask what you found. You’re–”

“What?!”

“You’re on the speaker with Jake and Phinn!” Leighton yelled, suddenly wincing as she worried that her voice might wake up the whole house. The redhead hurriedly shut the door.

“Hey, boys!”

“Cam, could you please go somewhere quieter? We can’t hear you with all that racket,” Phinn said loudly, but refusing to shout.

“Huh? I can’t hear you. Hold on!” The noise died down somewhat a moment later, though Camryn continued to shout. “Okay! This is better!”

“What is…Are you on a case?” Phinn questioned, causing Jake and Leighton to roll their eyes.

“No, we’re at–”

“Who’s on the phone, Cam?!” another voice shouted way too close to the phone.

“Jake, Phinn, and–”

“Hi, boys!”

“Hey, Cass! Are you at a party?” Jake responded first.

“We are! We’re at Karina’s graduation party!” Cassidy revealed.

A cry of “Whoo!” could be heard further in the background.

“Please, no. Are you drunk?” Phinn inquired, staring at the phone in disbelief.

“Absolutely!” Cassidy responded.

“Camryn sounds more sober. Put her back on,” Phinn directed.

“Why?” the younger Sasser sister challenged, causing the bespectacled sleuth to groan in frustration.

“Because Jake and I were both nearly murdered less than two hours ago!” Phinn shouted, finally breaking down and raising his voice.

The trio could hear Cassidy repeat Phinn’s revelation to her sister and several other friends. Several of those friends gasped in shock. However, Camryn swiftly reassured them that Phinn and Jake regularly had criminals try to kill them.

”It’s nothing new,” Camryn finished before getting back on the line. “What did you do now?”

“Is Pearl there? Can you put her on? I assume she’s sober,” Jake replied, reaching over the desk to cover his partner’s mouth.

“Oh, yeah! Peal’s the designated driver as usual,” Camryn revealed, as her sister giggled in the background.

It took five minutes for the person the sisters sent to find Pearl Bonnet and bring her back. While they waited, Leighton went out to the barn to get Paisley, after the investigators agreed the tied-up threesome should go into the sitting room.

“Are you guys calling from the phone booth at this time of night?” Pearl asked, in lieu of a greeting.

“No, we’re at Leighton’s aunt’s house,” Jake responded.

“You found the phone tap or bug?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We found a pair of notes from a singer and actress asking Jake and me to meet them at different locations a short time ago,” Phinn explained.

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t go. That sounds like a trap,” the brainiac of the Sassy Girls declared.

“We went and barely survived,” Phinn revealed.

“But had a great time while doing so!” Jake added cheerfully, earning an order from his best friend to shut up.

“Wow! You guys are lucky to be alive,” Pearl responded after Phinn gave a very brief rundown of events.

“Yeah! They almost got killed! Used up another of their cats’ lives,” Cassidy slurred.

“No way! They used up those nine lives years ago,” Camryn clarified, leading to laughter from her sister.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Phinn grumbled, tapping the desk in disgust.

“Hey, they have lives. It would be nice to have one too,” Jake pointed out.

“You get plenty of action during our cases!” Phinn shot back.

“Whoa! Calm down over there, guys,” Pearl ordered. “Now, I assume you want the info we dug up on those two individuals.”

“Yes!”

Leighton picked that time to slide back inside the den. She quickly whispered that her cousin and the others were in the sitting room. As she and Jake discussed the development, Phinn asked what they had found on Flamand.

"Jean-Paul Flamand barely registered a blip. We were unable to find any police records on him. The only mention we heard was a brief encounter with the Answer Angels about a year ago," Pearl reported.

“Hmm, the Answer Angels are located in Southern California, which fits with the people he assembled out here,” Phinn mused aloud.

“You find anything on Atwood? We think he’s the dead body we found,” Jake explained.

“You hit the lowlife jackpot with this man,” Pearl noted.

The research expert for her group listed Grover Atwood’s date of birth, birthplace, and early mentions in juvenile police records. Phinn knew better than to ask how she accessed supposedly private juvenile records. Pearl also found the details from his more recent driver’s license.

“Forty-five and a large man sounds about right for the corpse we found,” Phinn said, checking with Jake, who nodded. “Alright, let’s hear his priors.”

What followed caused Jake to raise his eyebrows, and slightly impressed Phineas. Grover Atwood had a long list of either suspected crimes or convictions.

“Apparently, Atwood is memorable for his sinister, if not supernatural, demeanor. Witnesses claim he has mesmerizing eyes.” Pearl passed along before rattling off several known aliases.

“Willie Brimley does sound like an early attempt at an alias,” Phinn agreed with the Sassy Girl. “What other ones stand out?”

“Ivar Vamm, an expert on cursed or haunted heirlooms,” the brainy girl replied, causing Jake to shudder. “Oh, you’ll like this one: Ammon, the Arcane. He allegedly used a crystal ball during seances. The same seances where his guests mysteriously fell asleep. Ammon claimed they’d been visited by their deceased relatives and possessed. Those same guests later discovered their money or valuables missing. He ran that racket for several years.”

“A crystal ball and people falling asleep. Such an amazing coincidence,” Phinn remarked sarcastically.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Jake interrupted.

“Why don’t we let Pearl finish before discussing questions,” Phinn suggested. “Did he get arrested for running that scam?”

“Ammon or Atwood, first had a run-in with the Brainteasers down in Blueview about four years ago. He managed to escape town before they caught on to the full scheme,” Pearl recounted.

“That’s not surprising. The Brainteasers are a hit-and-miss group,” Phinn remarked.

“Be nice, Phineas,” Pearl scolded. “However, his luck ran out when he moved from a tourist town to a wealthier location. The Gotcha Gems busted him. Atwood was sentenced to four years but was released after two and a half years for good behavior. That would’ve been three months ago, if you’re wondering.”

“The Gotcha Gems! Damn, those are some hot–”

“His assistant was only sentenced to a year,” Pearl continued, cutting off Jake’s comment.

“Assistant?” Phinn repeated.

“Yes, a Diane Delatte,” the Sassy Girl said before listing her physical details. “She went by the name Chalice while working the Ammon con.”

“Ah, yes, I believe we’ve met her,” Phinn noted, ignoring Jake and Leighton’s reactions. “Anything in his background about hypnosis?”

“Hypnosis? Wait…no way!” Jake exclaimed while Leighton also perked up.

“We didn’t find anything along those lines for Atwood,” Pearl relayed. “But I guess it’s not too far off from his usual methods.”

“Any family or known associates?” Phinn carried on.

“Very much so. You guys picked a doozy,” Pearl quipped. “He has a brother, Glenn, two years younger, who appears to have picked up the family business. However, outside of a listing under Mattias Janus, he’s mostly skated while being looked at.”

Phinn smirked as she rattled off Glenn’s physical characteristics.

“I don’t see what makes him such a doozy,” Jake opined.

“Grover and Glenn’s mother is Georgia Genew. You might know her better as the Whiskey Witch,” Pearl stated, dropping the bombshell.

“Whoa! That’s an old-school costumed crook, like from the Crime Challengers’ days,” Jake recalled. “The Whiskey Witch is infamous.”

“She also had a second arc after serving her first lengthy prison sentence,” Phinn mentioned, leaving out who caught her that time, almost a quarter of a century ago.

"Hang on! The Question Society busted her that time. Oh, wow! Are we taking on her kid?" Jake questioned, while sounding giddy. "We're in the company of legends."

“Wait,” Phinn commanded, disliking the legendary group that Jake admired. “What about this Sutter or Marr?”

“Rowan Marr. He seems to have had a significant falling out with Grover Atwood about five years ago. Sounds like they swore to put the other one in the grave someday. However, he’s currently in jail. The Key Club exposed him under his Najib Hassan alias, playing a cursed mummy.”

“Who the hell is The Key Club?” Phinn questioned loudly.

“Beats me,” Jake agreed, shrugging.

“You don’t know The Key Club?” Cassidy screeched from the background.

“Phinn hates other groups besides us,” Camryn told her friends.

“I know the ones who matter to us,” Phinn scoffed.

However, Pearl pressed on.

“Hoyt Sutter appears to be every grifter’s best friend. He’s a mix of a fence, a henchman, and an information broker. Sutter’s connected to the Atwood brothers going back decades, but he’s been lying low for the past five years, focusing on his fencing and information sales.”

“Why?” Phinn inquired, sounding intrigued.

“Sutter is still a person of interest in a film production investor scam from five, six years ago,” Pearl relayed. “It sounds like he was the bagman for a wannabe Hollywood player named Errol Ladd.”

“That’s original,” Phinn noted sarcastically.

Suddenly, the revelry grew louder in the background. Pearl struggled to hear or be heard. Eventually, she managed to explain that they hadn’t found anything else out. The girls might hear back about more details tomorrow, as they have several outstanding inquiries with groups currently on cases.

“Bye, boys!” Camryn yelled.

“Get Phinny a girl, Jakey!” Cassidy added.

“Well, that was quite an experience,” Leighton chuckled, once the phone call ended.

“See? That’s why you shouldn’t call around 1 am,” Jake told his partner.

“Fine. I get it,” Phinn replied, sighing. “Leighton, you might want to wake your aunt and the others. We’ll need to inform them about their so-called corseer, whatever that means.”

“Sure. We probably woke a few of them already,” the redhead responded, despite looking disappointed that she had to leave while they discussed the new information.

“Okay, so how can Flamand be Grover Atwood? Did he lose a bunch of weight in prison?” Jake questioned.

“No, I’m sure that Grover is the corpse we found on our first day,” Phinn replied. “Think about it. Paisley overheard the name Len when Flamand talked to Sutter on the phone. He was telling him to find Marr.”

Jake’s uncertain expression led his partner to continue.

“Len…Glenn…Sutter addressed Glenn while talking to Jean-Paul,” Phinn explained.

“Oh, shit! He killed his brother?”

“No, that’s where things get sketchy. Glenn wanted his friend to locate an old enemy of his brother. I suspect that Flamand, or Glenn, skipped his nightly swim to break into the morgue to confirm his brother’s ****. The question is who killed the older Atwood,” Phinn pondered out loud. “I have a few questions for our fellow guests that might fill in some of the puzzle pieces, but we’d better do the right thing and call the sheriff soon.”

“Don’t look so upset about making the call, buddy. It’s called maturing,” Jake teased, earning a one-fingered salute in return.

“Phinn, Jake!” Leighton shouted, racing down the stairs. “Cat, Portia, and Karter are missing!”

“Motherfucker!” Phinn exclaimed, slamming the table. “We’re in trouble now, Jake.”