Permanent Sunset by C. Michele Dorsey Page B

which Sabrina kept stocked in her refrigerator for their relaxing nights on her porch.
    “Well, apparently he has a hair across his ass about Ten Villas and especially you, Salty. He didn’t like it that you managed to turn the murder out at Villa Mascarpone around and got a certificate of heroism from the department. And he thinks you got away with murder on Nantucket.”
    Sabrina treasured her certificate, which had been personally given to her by Lee Janquar. She bit back an unladylike comment and kept listening while Neil continued with the bad news.
    “There’s no way he can pin Elena’s death on Sabrina,” Henry said with conviction.
    “No, that’s not his angle. He’s going to go after your Ten Villa’s real estate broker’s license. He’s saying you don’t know how to protect the public and that you place them in jeopardy by using poor judgment. Two murders at your villas in three months is his proof. He’s also going to enlist the press in his attack, including that barracuda Faith Chase,” Neil said.
    “That is just so unfair!” Sabrina realized as she said it how ridiculous that sounded. When had anything in recent years been anything but unfair?
    “We better set this story straight quickly then,” Henry said.
    “Yes, the sooner the better. You need to show that Elena’s death has nothing to do with the villa’s management and everything to do with whoever was motivated to kill her and why,” Neil agreed. “The story starts with Elena. What do we know about her?”
    Sabrina shared with Henry and Neil what she’d learned about Elena’s background, and Henry reported on his ride with Gavin.
    “Good work, Salty. I’ll make a couple of calls about Elena in the morning. I know a couple of lawyers up inthe Boston area who should be able to help with the Harvard and Babson connections,” Neil said.
    “Maybe someone should check out her history in San Juan at the caserio . I could try to go over tomorrow.”
    “Not without playing into Hodge’s hand, Henry. You were told not to go off island, remember?” Neil asked. “I could go, but I’d need to fly. I’ve got two bartenders out right now. A boat would take too long. I’d wait until Monday to be sure government offices were open,” Neil said.
    “You won’t get in trouble for doing this, Neil?” Sabrina asked. She remembered Hodge’s foreboding words about practicing law without a license.
    “Hell no, Salty. I’ve got every right to go to San Juan and look information up. But thanks for watching my back. This would be a lot easier if Larry were still around. We could hop over in his seaplane and be back in a couple of hours,” Neil sighed, taking the last draw of his beer.
    Sabrina toyed with the lemon slice now sitting at the bottom of her empty glass.
    “Would Cassie be willing to rent the seaplane?” she asked, looking over at Henry.
    “Sure, but who’s going to fly it? No one on the island that I know has a pilot’s license,” Neil said.
    “Unfortunately, someone I know does.” Henry raised his glass in a mock toast.

Chapter Sixteen
    Sabrina woke early the next morning without an alarm. She had so much to do, so she leapt out of bed and began making a list. She loved lists. They made her feel as if she had some control over her life. And when she crossed off items, she knew she was in charge, or at least felt accomplished.
    Before she went to bed, she had remembered her promise to get the fresh laundry over to the Keatings first thing in the morning. Exhausted, she hadn’t worried too much about special-care instructions and had dumped the contents of the black plastic bag into the washing machine with a small amount of detergent because the water on island came from cisterns that collected rain water, which was softer. Everything got washed on cold. Island living was pretty simple.
    The first item on her list was to “put clothes in dryer.” Next, “call Cynthia at St. John Car Rental to let her know her jeeps