Free Murder Walks the Plank by Carolyn Hart

looks like.”
    â€œHow did it get there?” She kept her tone reasonable, simply an inquiry.
    Ben scratched his bristly cheek. “Maybe it blew there. Maybe it was stuck on a crewman’s shoe the last time somebody checked the boat.” He tilted his head. “Didn’t you find the cover loose?”
    â€œYes.” Annie knew why. There hadn’t been time to fasten the tarp.
    Ben tapped his flashlight on the boat. “A loose cover means that plastic could of got there a bunch of ways. The wind. Or maybe it was a crow. They carry things and put them the damndest places. One time on the Miss Jolene, I kept seeing a crow duck under a port lifeboat. I took a look and found a stash of shiny beads. That little scrap of plastic don’t mean a thing. Thing is, you’re trying to make something out of nothing.”
    Annie carefully replaced the tarp, her face grim.Ben dismissed the importance of the snagged plastic. One glance at Max told her his attitude was the same. Billy would agree with them. Not with her.
    Yet she knew what had happened as clearly as though she’d stood and watched. The murderer came aboard with a plastic trash bag folded as small as possible, tucked in a back pocket or a purse. At some point, the tarp on the lifeboat was loosened, the plastic bag spread between the seats, Pamela was knocked out, dragged to the lifeboat, and tumbled inside it. Later, when the coast was clear, the deck empty except for Cole Crandall walking aft, the murderer darted from the saloon, stepped over the chain, lifted Pamela from the lifeboat, and dumped her over the edge. Her attacker grabbed the trash bag, pulled the tarp over the boat, and ducked around the far side of the lifeboat to hurry along the deck to the stairs. By this time everyone’s attention was focused on Pamela’s fall. The bag was quickly folded and put in a pocket or purse.
    Annie felt certain she knew what had happened. No one would believe her. No one, not Max or Ben or Billy. But the murderer knew that Pamela had survived and was now at the hospital.
    Who was looking out for Pamela right this minute?
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    The taillights of the Maserati glowed.
    Annie pulled even with the car, fumbled to find the window controls, lowered the pane on the passenger side of Emma’s Rolls-Royce.
    Max’s window was down, too. “Annie, I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
    She shook her head. “There’s no need. You’re still wet. Go home and take a hot shower. If I leave the hospital, Emma can bring me.”
    In the glow from the dash, his face was concerned. “ If you leave?”
    â€œPamela’s in danger. If somebody pushed her off the boat—and I know that’s what happened—the objective was to kill her. Well, everybody on that boat knows she’s going to be in the hospital.” She wasn’t angry, but she was determined. “I’ll stay the night if there’s no one who will be with her.”
    It took him a moment to answer. But he wasn’t grudging when he spoke. “I understand. I don’t believe she’s in danger, but you could be right. Call me when you know what you’ll be doing.”
    â€œI will. Give Dorothy L. a hug.” Their plump white cat adored Max and most likely would never notice Annie’s absence.
    Max’s car pulled ahead. Once on Sand Dollar Road in a long line of cars, Annie drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. She wished Max agreed with her conviction that Pamela was in danger. However, she understood his attitude and Billy’s as well. They didn’t really know Pamela. They saw her as a single woman who might have succumbed to depression. But she was grateful that Max understood her decision to go to the hospital to protect her friend. She saw his taillights receding as she turned right, taking the road to the hospital.
    Traffic thinned and the big Rolls zoomed forward. Annie wondered if the