Free Murder in the Mist by Loretta C. Rogers Page A

left leg first. Place your hands on the gunnel to steady yourself.”
    Laura did as she was instructed while Phyllis held the boat firm. Once both feet were on the ground, Laura grabbed the cooler. “How big is the island?”
    “Twelve acres of paradise. It’s populated with mostly pine, white birch, and wild blueberry bushes. Watch your step. The trail is rustic and reaches from one end of the island to the other. The highest point is in the center. We can see Cole Harbor from there.”
    The tunnel of growth opened into a clearing. Wild grasses dotted the winding path, thickly speckled with yellow and white flowers. Ahead of them a vast array of ferns spread out like a thick carpet. Towering oaks and birch trees waved their branches overhead, breaking the sun into a dozen pieces of gold. A Monarch butterfly darted in front of them. Laura sucked in her breath. “Beautiful. Simply beautiful. I can see why you wanted to preserve the island.”
    She spotted two birds playing tag in amongst the pine trees. She wasn’t into the great outdoors. She was more of a city girl, used to sidewalks and tall buildings, but a woman just had to take in nature once in her lifetime.
    Her hip throbbed by the time she and Phyllis arrived at a small clearing at the apex of the island. She drew in a breath and blew it out slowly—partly because of the pain and partly because of the circumference of beauty that unfolded before her.
    She and Phyllis spent the morning exploring and eating the wild blueberries they picked. After a morning swim, they lay on a blanket to soak up the sun. “Thanks, Aunt Philly. Just what the doctor ordered. It’s been a long time since I felt this relaxed.”
    Phyllis propped on an elbow. “Your mother and I used to come out here when we were children. After your dad died and she moved back to Cole Harbor, we’d spend Saturdays here.” Her voice wobbled. “Then she got sick, and that was that.” Phyllis wiped tears from her eyes. “Say, how about a lobstah roll and a cold beer?”
    Laura’s own voice seemed to hang in her throat when she tried to speak. “Sure. I’m starved.”
    At three o’clock Phyllis suggested they return to the harbor. “By the time we get back, shower, and dress, we’ll be ready to settle down for the night. There’s an old classic movie starring Gregory Peck that I’d like to watch.”
    Laura patted the tops of her legs. “I think I’ve gotten a little more sun than I intended. Let me guess. The name of the movie is Moby Dick. ”
    “You’d think, what with us living in a whaling community. But, no, give me a good western any day. Love the way that man sits a horse. And speaking of horses, there’s some good trails in the national park. We could rent a couple of horses and go for a ride, if you’re up to it.”
    Laura used her aunt’s outstretched hands to help her stand. She hugged Phyllis. “You are my heroine. Is there anything you can’t or won’t do?”
    “Give me a minute. I’m sure I can think of something.”
    Laura laughed at her aunt’s quick wit as they prepared to retrace their steps on the trail.
    With little or no warning, the sun hid behind the clouds, a wind kicked up, and the sky darkened. Phyllis glanced up, saying, “I checked the weather before we left. We’re supposed to have clear skies through next weekend.”
    Laura rubbed both hands up and down her arms to ward off the chill bumps. “It feels like the temperature has dropped ten degrees in less than a minute. Is this usual for this time of year?”
    “Not unless a storm is brewin’. Besides, Harmon would have sounded the fog horns to warn boaters to head for shore, and he hasn’t. C’mon, we’d better hustle back to the boat.”
    It was the sobbing that stopped them. Laura was certain the puzzlement on her aunt’s face was a reflection of her own. “Maybe it’s the wind.”
    “Whatever it is, let’s get the hell out of here.”
    Each woman grabbed an end of the cooler and ran,