by Bill Noel
“We had supper the other night.”
“Donde?”
As If Dudespeak wasn’t hard enough to understand, he’s been throwing in Spanish. I’d asked if he was learning Spanish. He’d responded with, “Un poco,” which I’d remembered from high school Spanish as meaning “a little.” I suspected that donde meant “where,” so I told him Rita’s.
Tiffany returned with Dude’s martini. He took a sip, gave a thumb’s up, and said, “Cool.”
Brief, but English. We told Tiffany to give us a few minutes and we’d order. There were a couple of groups waiting for tables, several people seated appeared to be ready to leave, so I didn’t feel rushed. We were in the shade of a large umbrella and I was in no hurry to leave the deck. I asked about business. He threw together a handful of words that meant business was good. He asked if I’d heard about the murder, if so, was I helping the police catch the killer. I told him yes and no. He didn’t seem to believe me, so I changed the subject to the weather.
I hadn’t paid attention, but the table beside us had opened. The hostess was seating three people, one being Laurie Fitzsimmons. She wore a mid-thigh length black skirt, and a dark gray blouse. She looked much better than when Charles and I visited her house. She sat on the opposite side of the man and woman, a couple about Laurie’s age. The man was overweight, mostly bald, average height. His companion was slightly taller than the man, not heavy, not thin with no memorable features.
Laurie glanced at us and looked surprised. “Oh, hi, umm …”
“Chris,” I said.
“Chris, of course.” She smiled. “It’s good to see you.”
Her forced smile, added to the way she held her arms across her chest, didn’t seem to share her words.
Dude, not to be left out, said, “I be Dude, bud of Christer. Who be you?”
This was Laurie’s first exposure to Dude, so she probably wouldn’t know how to respond. I stepped in, figuratively, and introduced Laurie to my surfer friend. Laurie told us her friends were Dean and Gail Clark.
I remembered that she’d said that a couple from Jacksonville was coming to be with her for a few days.
“Dean, Gail,” I said, nodding their direction. “Nice to meet you. Are you from Jacksonville?”
Dean started to answer, when Gail interrupted, “Yes, we’re here to help Laurie get through the next few days.”
I said, “Sorry you’re here under such terrible circumstances.” Our tables were three feet apart. With the crowd noises, it was difficult hearing, plus I felt like I was intruding on their private time. “I’ll let you get to your meal.”
Laurie gave a sincerer smile. “Good seeing you again.”
Dude, seeming oblivious to my desire to let them have their privacy, said, “Slip slide tables together. You be joining us.”
Laurie looked at our table. “Thank you, Dude, but—”
Gail interrupted, “Great idea. It’d be nice for us to get to know Laurie’s friends.”
Friends wouldn’t be how I’d describe our relationship since I’d only seen Laurie twice. She’d known Dude for as long as it takes to smack a mosquito that just bit my arm. Before I could say, “Thanks, but no thanks,” Gail was slip sliding their table our way. Tiffany returned to our combined tables to see if Dude and I were ready to order, and if Laurie, Gail, and Dean wanted drinks. I said Dude and I would wait a little longer. Gail, without input from Laurie, or Dean, ordered a bottle of white wine.
Gail turned to me. “Laurie wanted to sit in her house and order pizza. I told her she needed to get out, get fresh air, get her mind off Anthony’s death.”
Laurie looked at the menu, ignoring what was being said.
Dude waved his hand toward Dean. “Be from gator state?”
Had he missed Gail’s earlier answer to the same question?
“Jacksonville,” Gail said, answering for Dean. “We’ve been friends with Laurie and Anthony for years. Neither of us have kids. We have lots in common. Played cards a couple of times a month. Dean and Anthony are, sorry, were history buffs. The second Laurie called to tell us what happened, I said we’d be up to stay through the funeral. I don’t work so I had the time.” She hesitated, nodded toward Dean. “My husband taught for five years with Laurie and Anthony, before taking over his dad’s tire business.”
I wondered if Dean was permitted to speak when he was at work. I’d wager it was rare at home.
Dude bobbed his head. “Cool.”
Tiffany returned with the bottle of wine and set glasses in front of the newcomers. “Ready to order?”
Gail said not yet, again, without consulting her tablemates.
Dean took advantage of the break in discussion. He turned to me. “Have you known Anthony and Laurie since they moved here?”
“Not really,” I said. “I met Laurie the day Anthony died.”
“Oh,” said Gail. “I thought you, oh well, never mind. Did she tell you Dean and I were supposed to be here that day? We were going relic hunting with them, but Dean had to go to a tire retailers’ meeting in Tallahassee.” She put her hand on Laurie’s hand. “If we’d been here, Anthony may still be with us. Laurie, I’m so sorry.”
Dude leaned toward Dean. “Me found injun head penny once. Be relic?”
Dean leaned closer to Dude. “Well, it could—”
“By the strict definition of relic, yes,” Gail interrupted. “Our interest is more in line with artifacts from the Civil War. Anthony had been telling us about the history of Folly Beach during that war. Laurie’s grandfather told her stories years ago. We were excited about joining our friends. Again Laurie, sorry we couldn’t be here.”
“You’re not as sorry as I am,” Laurie said. “Let’s order. I’m certain Chris and Dude aren’t interested.”
Gail waved Tiffany to the table, and each of them ordered. I was pleased Gail didn’t order for everyone. Tiffany looked at me, I nodded for Dude to say if he was ready. He and I ordered, while Laurie started talking to Gail and Dean about funeral arrangements. I heard Gail tell Laurie that Dean had to get back to the store in the morning, but she would be staying until after the funeral. Dean would return for the funeral then take Gail home the following day.
We ate mostly in silence. Our tables were touching, although our conversations, however brief, remained apart. Dude was determined to tell me about four vacationers from Maine who were in the surf shop where they got in an argument about who was the best surfer. It seems none of them had ever been on a surfboard. They were arguing based on how athletic they were on the golf course. Dude thought it was hilarious; I thought it was mildly amusing.
Dude and I finished before Laurie, Dean, and Gail, so we waved bye. I told them it was nice meeting them and again expressed condolences to Laurie.
On our way down the steps, Dude said, “Gail chick be big bundle of bull.”
Not necessarily articulate, yet one-hundred percent accurate.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, low-hanging clouds and light rain blanketed the area, so I was surprised to hear a knock on the door a little after eight. I was even more surprised to see Charles standing on the screened-in front porch. He wore a purple, long-sleeve, T-shirt with Alcorn State University in gold, block letters on the front, a canvas Tilley hat with water dripping off the brim and carrying a bag from Bert’s Market. His classic 1961 Schwinn bicycle leaned against the front of the house. I wondered why he’d peddled over rather than driving. I didn’t ask.
He pushed his way past me on his way to the kitchen. “You’re a wimp, so I figured you wouldn’t come out to meet me for breakfast. You’re a pitiful excuse for a cook, so I figured you wouldn’t have anything here to eat. I picked up donuts next door, figured we could eat in your never-used kitchen.”
What I figured was that it was too late to say, “Good morning, Charles. How are you today? What brings you out on such a lousy morning?”
I may be a pitiful excuse as a cook, if that good, but I was a wiz at fixin
g coffee in a Mr. Coffee machine. Charles found one of my three clean mugs, poured a cup, plopped down on a kitchen chair, and tore open the box of prepackaged donuts. He seldom appeared at my door without an agenda. If I asked what it was, he’d respond by saying something like, “Couldn’t I want to see a friend?” I wasn’t ready to play that game, so I sipped my drink waiting for the agenda to unfold. It didn’t take long.
“I was thinking,” he said then took a bite of donut.
“Would you like to share what?”
He pointed the mug at me. “Harnell Levi.”
It took me a couple of seconds to remember who that was. “Laurie Fitzsimmons’s grandfather.”
Charles shrugged. “You know any other Harnell Levis?”
“I didn’t know the one who was Laurie’s grandfather. What about him?”
“The geezer died six or seven years ago. I knew him from when I did some cleaning at the Sandbar Restaurant.”
The Sandbar Restaurant had been behind Charles’s apartment building, and was one of Folly’s most popular eating spots for ages but has been closed a few years. It’d overlooked the Folly River, and had a memorable view of sunset.
“Why didn’t you tell Laurie you knew him?”
Charles started on his second donut, took a sip of his drink, then said, “Teddy Roosevelt said, ‘If you could kick a person in the pants responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn’t sit for a month.’ That was old man Levi. Figured if I couldn’t say anything good about her gramps, I’d better keep my mouth shut.”
“Tell me about him.”
“The old coot was short, doubt more than five one, portly, if he could smile, I never saw it. The old man was plum cranky. He was also paranoid, always looking around like a KGB agent was hiding around every corner. I never saw him when he wasn’t mumbling something, or whispering.”
“What about?”
“Best I could decipher, he’d found some Civil War artifacts. Told me once he’d been a prospector in the old west. It didn’t make a lick of sense since the old west was long gone before he could’ve been there. Some of his mumble-talk was about relics and other stuff, said he knew where it was.”
“Other stuff, like what?”
“He never said. Probably wasn’t frankincense, or myrrh. I’d lean toward silver, or gold.”
“You never heard him say silver or gold.”
“Nope. He was one weird dude.”
“Laurie seemed to have been close to him. If he talked to you about relics and other stuff, he probably shared more with his granddaughter. You think that’s why they were hunting relics?”
“Yep.”
“And he claimed to know where some were.”
“Yep.”
“It’s possible that they either found something of value, or had a good idea where to look, then someone else found out about it. That could’ve been motive for killing Anthony.”
“Yep.”
I hoped that Charles would stop imitating Dude and add something more to the discussion. “If that’s true, who would’ve known? Laurie and Anthony hadn’t been here long. If they truly had an idea where to find buried relics, or treasure, why would they tell anyone?”
“Therein lies the mystery.”
After three more donuts, two more cups of coffee, Charles noticed the rain had stopped. He decided that he needed to get to his apartment before the weather turned worse. On his way out, he said I should meet with Chief LaMond to tell her what he’d learned from Harnell Levi. I asked why he didn’t want to meet with her. He said that she would believe me before believing him. I said I’d think about it.
The phone rang before I could give it more thought. Theo called to remind me that I’d agreed to go with him when he met with his daughter-in-law. I told him that I remembered.
“Good,” he said. “She just called, said she’s in Charleston, and asked if I could visit today. Are you available?”
Even if I didn’t want to go, I didn’t have enough time to think up a reason why I couldn’t. Besides, I was curious about his daughter-in-law.
“Sure.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at noon.”
Theo wasn’t as time obsessed as Charles, so it was five after twelve when his late-model, black Mercedes pulled in the drive. Knowing that Theo walked at turtle speed, I’d been watching, so I could meet him at the car before he got out. He thanked me for going three times before we’d made the short trip off island, twice more on the half-hour ride to the hotel.
Theo’s daughter-in-law was staying at a Comfort Inn near downtown Charleston. Theo was to call her cell once he was at the hotel. He was slower than usual as we walked from the car to the lobby of the attractive, seven-story building. It took him a couple of minutes to catch his breath after he flopped down on a sofa in the lobby. He was breathing heavily as he stared at his phone.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Scared. Chris, I don’t know if I can do this.”
“It’ll be fine. Besides, you’re in better shape than she is. Imagine how she must feel meeting her late husband’s father.”
Theo smiled. “Good point.” He tapped her number in his phone.
She was quick to answer. Theo said he was in the lobby but, before he could say anything else, she must’ve said she’d be down.
“She sounded excited,” Theo said as he stood and walked to the large windows overlooking the parking lot. When the elevator door opened, Theo jerked around to look in its direction. Two men dressed in seersucker suits, and engrossed in a conversation, emerged. Theo sighed as he returned to the sofa.
The elevator door opened again, a dark-skinned woman stepped into the lobby. She was short, roughly five-foot-two, trim, in her early-fifties, with a short-cropped Afro haircut. She had on a black blouse, dark-gray Capri pants, and flip-flops. We stood and looked her way.
Theo whispered, “Think that’s her?”
The woman saw us standing fifteen feet away, smiled, then headed over. Theo’s question was answered.
She stopped in front of us, nodded, and said, “Gentlemen, would one of you happen to be Theo Stoll?”
Theo said that he was.
The woman’s smile increased; she held out her arms and wrapped them around his waist. He got a startled look on his face, which, fortunately, the hugger couldn’t see.
“Then, fine, sir, I am honored to say that I am Grace, your daughter-in-law.”
Her Caribbean accent, combined with an endearing smile, made her both pleasant to look at and listen to. She unhooked her arms from Theo’s waist and took a step back. Theo struggled with what to say, so I stepped forward, told her who I was, adding that I was Theo’s friend. The center of the lobby wasn’t the best place to continue our conversation, so I asked if she was thirsty.
“A drink would be pleasant,” she said as she continued to smile. Her teeth were glowing white, and flawless.
Theo didn’t respond.
I ushered them to the breakfast area then to a booth along the wall as far as possible from three guests huddled around a laptop. Large photos of scenic spots in downtown Charleston adorned the walls. I went to get drinks from a refrigerator in the corner of the room. Theo had found his voice by the time I returned.
“How was your trip?” he asked.
She smiled. “Long, exhausting. I’m pleased to finally have reached my destination after four days on the road. Thank you for meeting me. I know this must be awkward.”
Theo smiled for the first time. “True for you as well.”
Grace took a sip of orange juice. “Yes. I don’t know how to say this other than to say, I’m so sorry for the death of your son.”
Theo shook his head but didn’t respond.
I said, “Grace, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. It was devastating.”
Theo’s head jerked up, he leaned closer to his daughter-in-law. “You must know I had little contact with him. I didn’t know he was getting married until I
got the wedding invitation. I only knew your name because it was on the invitation I received days after the event.” He took a deep breath. “Grace, I don’t want to sound insensitive.” He took another breath. “Why did you come all the way across the country? What do you want?”
I was startled by Theo’s stinging words to someone whom he’d just met moments earlier. Grace jerked back like Theo had slapped her.
The conversation went downhill from there.
“Mr. Stoll, I’m terribly troubled that I’ve offended you. I was aware of your lack of closeness with Teddy, but—”
“Lack of closeness,” Theo shot back. “I hear nothing from him in years. He couldn’t find time to attend his mother’s funeral. Then, he gets married to someone I’d never heard of. Now, you appear out of nowhere, smiling like everything’s hunky-dory.” He sighed. “Like we’re one big happy family.”
Grace’s shoulders appeared to fold inward; she sank down in her seat; a tear appeared in the corner of her eye. I was shocked. I’d never seen Theo this agitated. He glared at her while shaking his head.
“Grace,” I said, “I hope you understand that hearing from you and now your arrival has thrown Theo’s world upside down. Perhaps you would like to share with him, with us, what inspired you to come from L.A. Did you say you were on the road for four days? That had to be a grueling trip.”
Theo continued to glare while remaining silent.
His daughter-in-law looked at him, then turned to me. “Yes, Mr. Landrum. Last night was the first night I stayed in a hotel since leaving California.”
“Where’d you stay on the road?”
“I have a sleeping bag in the food truck. It wasn’t horrible; rough on the back.” She tried to smile. It fell short.
I wondered if that meant she didn’t have any money. It was best not to ask. “Do you have family on the East Coast?”
“Just…” she nodded toward Theo.
Theo’s glare softened, although not much. He tapped his finger on the table. “Where’s your family?”