The Monarch Graveyard

by James R Nelson

  A knock on the door startled her. Who could that be at this time of night? She pulled the curtain aside and looked out the window. It was some kid. She slid the lock with the safety chain into place and opened the door a crack.

  The young man looked up. “Is your name Bonaventure?” He was holding a small package.

  “Yes.”

  “Some guy gave me ten dollars to deliver this to you.” He jammed the box into her hand, turned, and ran down the corridor.

  She yelled through the doorway. “Wait! What man? What did he tell you?” Footsteps echoed down another set of steps, then it was quiet. She walked over to the kitchenette, grabbed a small knife, and slit open several layers of tape.

  She didn’t scream when she lifted off the lid. Instead, her knees buckled, and she ended up on the floor next to a bloody note that had fallen out of the box. She crawled over to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet.

  Twelve

  Tony Palmeri was sleeping soundly when a loud pounding on the door forced him awake. He rubbed his eyes and glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was ten after eight. He pulled on his suit pants and opened the door. Two state police troopers were standing there.

  “Morning, Mr. Palmeri. I need to see you’re ID.”

  “My ID? What for?”

  The policeman held out his hand. “ID, please.”

  Tony pulled his wallet out and handed his driver’s license to the cop.

  “Do you mind if we come in and ask you a few questions?”

  “What kind of questions?”

  The other officer pushed the door open wider. They both stepped inside the small motel room. One of them pulled out a notebook. “I see you live in Los Angeles. Can you please state your business here in Grand Marais?”

  Tony stared at them. “You guys got a search warrant or something? How can this be legal? I go from one state to another, and I gotta tell you why? It’s none of your damn business.”

  The other trooper moved closer. “Do you know anyone named Paulie DeLuca?”

  Tony thought for a moment. “No. I never heard of him. Why?”

  “He broke out of prison recently, and he was involved in some dealings with Mr. Kahle. Now you show up, a complete stranger, and you start asking about Mr. Kahle. Does that seem like a coincidence to you, sir?”

  Tony nodded. “It not only seems like one, it is one. I never heard of this guy.”

  “Why are you looking for Mr. Kahle’s residence?”

  “Like I said. It’s none of your business, but let’s just say an associate of mine would like to possibly do some business with him. How’s that? Is that okay, or do we need some kinda special Michigan license for something like that?”

  “You don’t, but I’ll tell you what. We’re going over to Mr. Kahle’s and ask him if he knows you or has any interest in meeting with you. If he says no, then we’re going to come back here and talk to you again.” He leaned in closer. “This time down at headquarters.”

  Tony smiled. “Oh, he’ll be happy to hear from me. I can assure you of that.”

  Ten minutes after the cops left, Tony tossed his suitcase into the rental car and sped out of the parking lot.

  ###

  Amber pushed her cart of cleaning supplies and linens up to Mrs. Bonaventure’s room. She looked over the railing and saw her pacing back and forth down on the beach. Was she crying?

  She unlocked the door with her pass key, changed the bed, grabbed the soiled towels, and replaced them with new ones. She dusted the furniture and then stepped into the bathroom. She bent down to take a new roll of toilet paper out from under the sink and noticed a small package sitting on the floor. Amber picked it up. She lifted off the cover. Was that…? Yes, yes it was. A severed finger. She dropped the box, backed out of the bathroom, and tried to catch her breath. Oh my God. She looked down at the tile. A finger! What? How?

  She stopped. What was it with that box? Why did it look familiar? She reached out and turned it over. The gray and gold pattern was the same design as the box that held the costume jewelry she had bought down at the drug store the week before. The name Emerson was engraved on the lid just like it was on her box at home. How could that be? A wave of numbness washed over her. No. Please God. No.

  She threw her cleaning rag on the floor. She had to get home. Right now.

  ###

  Dwayne pushed the door to the trailer open and set down a twelve pack of Bud. He spotted his sister sitting in the living room. “What the hell you doing here? Why ain’t you working?” He looked over at her again. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

  Amber held up a silver necklace. Her hand was shaking. “Where’s the box for this?”

  He stared at what she was holding. “How the hell should I know? I don’t keep track of all that shit you buy down at the pawn shop?”

  “I didn’t buy this at the pawn shop. I got it at the drug store.” She dropped the necklace. Tears rolled down her face. “How could you? When they find out, they’re going to send you to prison for the rest of your life. And…and I’m going to lose my job. They’ll probably think I was involved, too, and go to jail.” She buried her face in her hands. “How could you?”

  Dwayne whirled around and pushed the screen door open. It was time to end this now.

  ###

  Cyrus stumbled out of the tent holding his bandaged hand. He walked over to Everett. “Look. See that red line? It’s moving up my arm. The damn finger, what’s left of it’s infected. And how could it not be? Sitting out here in the middle of a swamp. No bath for almost a week. Once this infection gets to my heart, I’m going to be dead.” He stared at Everett. “Is that what you want? If I’m dead, then you’re going to be facing a murder charge. I don’t have the money, Everett. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  Everett tossed down a Field and Stream magazine Dwayne had brought with him on one of his trips. “Look around. You see a damn telephone? You see a boat we can use? What the hell you want me to do? Sprout some wings and fly us outta here?” He spit on the ground. “I tried to tell Dwayne about your money situation. You heard me.” He stood up. “He don’t care. All’s he’s interested in is getting his hands on that fifty grand.”

  Cyrus walked over to the edge of the river. “There has to be a way to get off this island. I heard some boats out there yesterday. Maybe we could build a big fire or something. Get somebody’s attention. I just want to get back to my wife. I told you, I get off this island, I’m heading back to California. I don’t want revenge.”

  “With it raining every afternoon, there’s no way we’d be able to start a big fire. And even if we could, we’d run a chance of this whole island burning up. Wouldn’t that be fun? Burn ourselves up trying to get outta here.”

  Cyrus looked at his arm. “There has to be a way. This line is moving fast. I sure as hell don’t want to spend my last days out here.” He reached up and felt his forehead. “I think I’m running a temperature, but how in the hell would you know with all this heat and humidity.”

  Everett picked up his magazine. “Just shut up. Neither of us are going anywhere soon.”

  An hour later, Cyrus turned toward the river. An airboat was headed toward the island and it was going fast. He looked over at Everett. He was sleeping in his chair. The radio was playing “Gotta Serve Someone” by Bob Dylan.

  The airboat flew around the bend and beached itself on the muddy bank. Everett shook his head and stood up. Dwayne jumped off the boat holding a gun in his hand. He walked up to Cyrus and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “This shit’s over with. Either you tell me how we can get that money now, or I’m gonna put a bullet through your head and roll your bloody corpse into the river so the ‘gators can get rid of the evidence.” He cocked the gun. “You got ten seconds.”

  Everett threw himself in between them. “Get it in your thick head, Dwayne. The man’s broke. We ain’t getting any money. It’s time to end this thing! Let the man go.”

&nb
sp; Dwayne shoved Everett away. “I am ending it. If he’s broke like you keep saying, then dead men tell no tales.”

  Everett stepped closer. “I’m sick of the snakes, mosquitoes, and everything else out here. Come on.” He grabbed Cyrus and started walking toward the airboat.

  “Hold it!”

  Cyrus turned. Dwayne was crouched down, holding the gun in both hands in a shooting stance. Dwayne yelled, “Everett! Stop right now.”

  Everett continued to walk toward the airboat, his back to Dwayne. “The man said he wouldn’t turn us in if we let him go. He ain’t got no money, so we’re going to let him go.”

  An explosive sound came from Dwayne’s gun. Everett fell face down onto the ground. A bullet hole in his back. “I don’t think so,” Dwayne whispered.

  Cyrus stared at Everett’s dead body. Dwayne’s gun was now pointed at him. Cyrus dropped to his knees and hoped Dwayne thought he was about to beg for his life.

  Dwayne walked over to him. “Now, let’s talk about that money.”

  Cyrus dug his hands into the ground and threw two fistfuls of leaves and dirt into Dwayne’s face. Then he sprang to his feet and dashed over to the airboat. He didn’t know how to drive it, but it couldn’t be much different than a car.

  Dwayne brushed his face and blinked several times trying to clear his eyes. When his vision cleared, Cyrus was scrambling onto the airboat. Dwayne squeezed off a round and ran toward the vessel.

  Cyrus jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key. A loud noise startled him as the airplane engine kicked in. Where was the steering wheel? There was only a long lever on the left of the seat and one pedal on the floor. He pushed the pedal with his foot. The propeller spun faster but the airboat didn’t move. Dwayne was getting closer. Frantically, Cyrus tried to get the boat to take off.

  “Get the hell off there, you fool. You’re going to kill yourself!” Dwayne jumped on board and grabbed him. Cyrus threw a punch and fell against the long pole. Suddenly the airboat jerked backward and flew out into the river.

  Dwayne tumbled over Cyrus and fell against the wire cage in front of the propeller. The boat accelerated toward a line of cypress trees and then hit a large clump of black mud. Cyrus grabbed onto the seat as the airboat spun around several times and then began to tilt. There was an enormous crash as they smashed into a group of black mangrove trees.

  Cyrus was thrown back against the wire propeller cage. A sharp pain seared through his left arm. He looked down and saw a long deep gash. As he tried to stand, a strong odor of gas hit him.

  Dwayne was hanging off the side of the boat. He reached up. “Help me. You need to turn off —”

  A huge explosion shot flames thirty feet into the air.

  Two fishermen were sitting in a twelve foot Jon boat when a ball of fire erupted over a green horizon of mangroves about a quarter of a mile away. “Jesus, Sam, what the hell was that?”

  Sam glanced behind him. “Hell if I know. Sounded like something blew up.”

  “Pull up your line. Let’s see what’s going on. Somebody’s boat must have exploded.” Beau Pettit swung the boat around and headed up-river toward where he had seen the fire-ball.

  As the boat rounded the second bend, Sam shouted, “Looks like we got a body over here.” He pointed to a clump of cypress knees. A man was floating face down in the water. Beau eased up on the throttle and drifted next to it.

  Sam leaned over the side of the boat. “He ain’t movin’.”

  “Look. Up ahead.” Beau pointed. “There’s an airboat turned on its side. Somebody’s lying behind the seat.” He steered the Jon boat closer.

  Sam grabbed on to the hull of the airboat. “This poor bastard’s all burnt up.”

  “But he’s moving. Wrestle him into the boat. We’ll take him back to Gator Creek Landing. They got a phone. We can call for help.”

  Sam looked back at the blackened body floating in the water. “What about the other guy?”

  “We’ll have to leave him here and hope there’s something left of him when the cops get here.” He pointed to the riverbank. “There’s a six foot gator sunning himself over there right now.”

  ###

  Sunlight streamed in the huge kitchen window at Cliffside Manor. Cora handed Jeanette a bag of rye flower. “Okay, now measure out three cups.”

  Jeanette picked up the measuring cup and carefully followed Cora’s instructions. “I’m so glad you’re teaching me how to make Norwegian Rye bread. I’ve been enjoying yours for so many years. I can’t wait to make some for Stephen.”

  Cora smiled. “I had no idea you wanted to learn how to make it. If I would have known, we could have done this a lot sooner.” She pointed to a bag of brown sugar. “Now we need to add—”

  Barbara Jenkins burst into the kitchen and stomped up to Cora. “Okay, I want my earrings back now.” She stuck out her hand.

  Cora stepped back. “What earrings? What are you talking about?”

  “I had a pair of diamond stud earrings sitting on my dresser. Johnny gave them to me. You came in with the pot of coffee and now they’re gone.” She took a step closer. “I know you took them. I want them back.”

  Jeanette turned, still holding the bag of brown sugar. “You don’t really think Cora stole your earrings, do you?”

  Barbara spun around. “I’m having a private conversation with Cora. This is none of your business.”

  Tears welled up in Cora’s eyes. “Ms. Jenkins, please. I would never—”.

  Jeanette stepped in front of her. “Yes, this is totally my business. Ever since you got here, you’ve been ordering Cora around like she’s your private servant. I’ve known Cora since the first day I started working here, and I can’t believe you’d be rude enough to even suggest that she would take something from your room.”

  Cora undid her apron and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair. “Steal her earrings. I…I can’t believe anyone would think that I’d—”. She glanced over at Jeanette. “I’m sorry about the bread, Jeanette, but…but, I…I have to leave. I can’t work here anymore. I have to leave.”

  Jeanette reached out to her. “Cora! No. You can’t quit. Not because of this ridiculous nonsense.”

  Cora, tears streaming down her face, ran out of the kitchen.

  Barbara screamed, “Ridiculous nonsense? Those earrings cost over a thousand dollars. They weren’t some cheap crap like you wear.”

  Jeanette stepped back. “Are you kidding me? Now you’re going to insult me? After all you’ve done around here to drive everyone crazy?”

  Barbara put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I’ve had several talks with Phillip about your attitude. You think just because you cozied up to Phillip’s nephew, that you have a say around here. Well, you don’t. You’re just the hired help. A secretary with an attitude, that’s who you are.” Barbara spun around and ran out of the kitchen.

  ###

  Stephen was back in his room and was about to call his uncle, when the phone rang. It was Jeanette. He gripped the receiver tighter as she talked. Finally, he was able to speak. “What do you mean Cora’s gone?”

  “For the time being. She stomped into Phillip’s office and told him she quit after Barbara accused her of stealing her earrings. Phillip was able to calm her down. Remember that trip her sister wanted her to take to that canyon in Canada?”

  Stephen tried to remember. “No. I don’t think I heard about it.”

  “Anyway, Phillip convinced Cora to let him buy her and her sister tickets for it. She’s going to use some of her vacation time. Phillip told her to check with him in a week or two to see if Barbara’s still here.”

  “Who’s going to be doing the cooking?”

  “I guess I will. Phillip said he’d pitch in, but I’ve never seen him cook anything other than eggs and maybe a toasted cheese sandwich.”

  Stephen said, “I’m happy that Cora’s taking some time off, but I hope she’s not gone too long. Nobody cooks
better than she does.”

  “Well thank you for your vote of confidence.”

  “Oh, wait! I didn’t mean that.”

  She laughed. “I know. I’m just teasing you. But seriously, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Something’s happened to Barbara. She’s never been this demanding. It’s like she’s a different person.”

  “Is it her drinking? Is it getting worse?”

  “I don’t think so. She always drank a lot, but she was a happy drunk. Now she seems nervous and out of control.”

  “You’re going to have to have another talk with Phillip. Maybe now that Cora’s left because of her, he’ll listen this time.” Stephen paused. “I’ve been wondering. How’s your mother doing?”

  “Not so good. We have a hospice nurse coming to the house now.”

  Stephen heard her let out a little sob. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll be home as soon as I can. This shouldn’t take very long.”

  “I wish you were here now. I could really use you here now. You promise you’ll be home soon, right?”

  “Yes. I just have one more person I want to talk to.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe I’ll forget about it, and come home now. It sounds like Cliffside Manor’s falling apart.”

  Jeanette sighed. “No sense rushing back. Nothing’s going to change in the next few days. I’m trying to stay as far away from Barbara as possible. I need to spend more time with my mother.”

  “Yes. Take as much time as you can and spend it with her.” They talked for a few more minutes and then hung up. Stephen flopped down on the bed. Cora gone? He stared at the ceiling. His worst fear had just come true. Here he was, all the way across the country when Jeanette needed him the most.