Death in a Beach Chair

Valerie Wolzien

Death in a Beach Chair

Book 15 in the Susan Henshaw series, 2004

This book is dedicated

to everyone who loves to read.

ONE

“What is it about the Caribbean that makes everyone feel so sexy?” Jed Henshaw asked, moving a bit closer to his wife and slipping an arm around her shoulders. “The warm, soft air? The sound of the sea? The scent of exotic flowers? The sugary drinks full of rum? Susan? Honey? Susan, are you sleeping?”

It had been a long day. Susan and Jed Henshaw had gotten up before five A.M. to catch their nine-thirty flight from Ke

They had arrived at their resort, expecting to find Kathleen and Jerry Gordon, their best friends, checked in and ready to greet them. But what they found was a message left at the front desk: Kathleen and Jerry were having di

“Susan?”

“I’m not asleep. I was just lying here wondering. Jed, don’t you think it’s weird that Kathleen and Jerry aren’t here?”

“Not really. Remember, we should have arrived hours ago. They were probably assuming that we would go to town with them, and when we didn’t show up on time, they just went ahead with their plans.”

“Yes, but Kathleen said one of the things that appealed to her the most about this resort was its restaurant; it’s known all over the island for its food. Kathleen and I liked the fact that everything we wanted was here, that we wouldn’t have to leave unless we wanted to. So why would they go off to town to eat their first day on the island?”

“Perhaps they thought you and I would want to stay here all week and decided to take advantage of our absence to explore on their own.”

“Well, maybe, but…” Susan sat up and looked over at her husband. “Jed, has Jerry said anything to you?”

“Jerry’s said a lot to me-at work, at the Field Club, at the boring di

“I was wondering if he’d said anything about Kathleen… you know, about their marriage.”

“No. What do you know that I don’t know?”

“I don’t think they’re getting along,” Susan answered quietly.

Although she and Jed had been married for more than thirty years, her words shocked him more than anything else she had ever told him. “Not getting along? You’re saying they have marriage problems? Kathleen and Jerry?”

“I don’t actually know anything. That is, Kathleen hasn’t said anything specific, but recently I’ve been getting the impression that she’s unhappy about something… something to do with Jerry.”

Now Jed sat up straighter and turned away from the view. “Hon, I thought this was going to be a romantic, relaxing vacation.”

“Oh, it is, Jed. It is. Don’t you see? That’s why it’s so perfect that we’re all here together.” It was too dark for Susan to see the expression on her husband’s face, but she was fairly sure he didn’t look happy. She sighed. This vacation was sure not starting out the way she had pla

The idea had come to her one miserable sleety day in January when she and Kathleen were talking on the phone. Kathleen was stuck in her kitchen, baking cupcakes for an upcoming bake sale at her children’s elementary school. Susan was in her kitchen, stuffing her face with leftover Christmas cookies, thinking that her nest was bleak and empty.

“I can’t wait until winter break. Jerry’s mother and father have offered to take the kids so that Jerry and I can get away for a bit. It’s been years since we went anyplace without the kids,” Kathleen said.

Susan could hear the KitchenAid whirring in the background on the other end of the line. She looked out the window into her icy backyard and wondered if the dozen red-stemmed dogwoods they had planted in the fall would survive the storm. “It would be nice to go someplace warm,” she said. “In fact, Jed and I have been thinking of heading down to the Caribbean. I’ve been pla

“Susan, I have to dash. This dough is begi

Susan had headed straight for the computer. A few hours and a couple of cups of coffee later, she was ready to present her idea to her husband and their best friends.

“Compass Bay.” She handed Jed a sheaf of computer printouts along with a goblet of deep amber liquid. A maraschino cherry bobbed in his drink.

“What is Compass Bay? And what is this?” he asked, taking the time to kiss his wife before hanging his Burberry in the hall closet and heading back to his study, where Susan had a fire burning to accompany their usual predi

“That is rum punch, and Compass Bay is a small, funky resort on an island near Nassau.”

Jed sat down on the couch and sipped his drink. “And?”

“And the good news is that Compass Bay has room for us all the last week of February.”

Jed took another sip. “This is excellent. A little sweet, but excellent.”

“And wouldn’t a week spent in the sun, swimming, kayaking, and eating good food and drinking rum punch be excellent, too?”

“Susan, I’ve been slogging through freezing slush for the past five days. The heat on the train was on the blink tonight and my toes may never thaw out. I had lunch with one of the agency’s most important clients today. He ate and drank and I talked and talked and talked, so I’m starving and this rum is going straight to my head. If you’re suggesting that we go someplace warm for a few days, the answer is yes, fine, great. Let’s go ASAP.”

“The Hancock schools’ winter break is the last week of February.”

Jed placed his drink on the coffee table before him and looked up at his wife. “Susan, we haven’t had anyone in the Hancock schools for over three years.”

“I know that, Jed! But Alex and Emily are still in elementary school.”

“Jerry’s kids? What do they have to do with it? Good lord, you’re not telling me that you’re pla

“Of course not, Jed. But I was thinking how much fun it would be if the four of us-Jerry and Kathleen and you and I-went to this place, Compass Bay, together. And they can’t get away until their kids are on vacation. Jerry’s parents have offered to baby-sit them.”

“So you’re serious about the last week of February.” Jed was reaching into his shirt pocket for his Palm Pilot.

“Yes.” She waited a moment while he pressed an amazing number of buttons. “Is it a good time for you to be away from work?”

“It is. Tell me more about this Compass place.”