Dumpster Dying

by Lesley A. Diehl

  Emily gasped. She opened her window and yelled at he manager. “You’ve got to stop that man.” Her voice was lost in the cacophony of sounds from sirens, shouting, and honking.

  “Lady, I told you to move on. You’re holding up traffic and endangering everyone’s lives,” said the volunteer who’d called on his radio for her earlier. “There’s nothing you can do here.”

  There’s a lot I can do, thought Emily as she pressed on the accelerator and headed out of the park. And I will.

  CHAPTER 22

  Naomi jumped out of the car and waved good bye to her friends who turned around and headed toward the exit. Before she could enter the house, an SUV with the insignia of the city police pulled up in front.

  The man in the driver’s seat rolled down his window. “You Naomi?” he asked.

  “Yes. Is there anything wrong?”

  “Nothing except for this fire. Your mother was worried and told Detective Lewis to find you and get you out of here.” He flashed his identification. “She was here but left.”

  “Why didn’t she call me?”

  “I guess she did, but you weren’t home. And she couldn’t get through on the cell. Detective Lewis said I should fetch you to the police station. She’ll pick you up there.”

  “Okay, fine, but I need to go in and get some things.”

  “I think she got almost everything. Go ahead, but hurry. Soon they’ll throw even us cops out of here.”

  He watched Naomi enter the house and smiled. With Quigley on ice until the lawyer got in from the coast, Toby was safe for a few hours at least. Time enough to finish business so he could collect what was due him. He chewed on his wad in contentment, occasionally spitting out the open window and leaving a dark stain on the cement.

  The detective was right. Emily had cleared out the place. Most of Naomi’s clothes were gone. She entered the bathroom. Her toothbrush was still in the holder. She grabbed it and headed for the door, but hesitated when she passed the guest room. She turned the knob and entered. Darren’s backpack lay on the bed where he had left it when he went home with Clara.

  She sat down beside it and thought about Darren’s loss. The kid hadn’t had a very happy life. I wonder if he wants this, she asked herself. She began to toss all the items strewn on the bed into it, but stopped when she found the birth certificate that had changed everything he thought was true about his father. She unfolded the official-looking paper and read it. Oh, my God, she said to herself. This can’t be. I have to show this to Mom right away.

  A figure in the doorway startled her. “You about ready?” asked the detective.

  For a fat man, he surely was light on his feet. She hadn’t heard him approach.

  “Scare ya?”

  “Yes. Uh, no.”

  “Whatcha got there?”

  “Nothing. Stuff that belongs to a friend, that’s all.” Something about this man gave her the creeps, but she reminded herself he was Detective Lewis’ partner and as much as Emily protested otherwise, Naomi knew her mother liked and trusted Lewis.

  She crammed the birth certificate into the backpack and hoisted it onto her shoulder. It was surprisingly heavy. She wondered what other stuff Darren had hidden away in its pockets.

  “Let’s go then,” she said, pushing past him, careful not to make contact. She wanted to get to Emily as soon as possible. “I’ll call and let Emily know we’re on our way.” She reached for the kitchen phone.

  “Best not to tie up the lines with other than emergency calls at this time,” said Toby. Naomi hesitated, then nodded and headed out the door.

  As they took their place in the line of cars exiting the park, Toby extracted his wadded-up handkerchief and swept it across his sweaty brow. He let out the breath he was holding in. She bought it, he said to himself. One step closer to his goal.

  Emily pulled Stan into the Burnt Biscuit’s parking lot, nearly empty of cars. She recognized the owner’s Beemer at the bar room door. Randolph’s probably getting the accounts together before he leaves, too. She pulled into the sandy area across the driveway from the bar and left the car next to a huge oak tree. It couldn’t be seen from the road, and she was certain the tree obscured Randolph’s view also.

  What she was doing was stupid, but she was certain the cop at the gate was Naomi’s husband. Emily needed to know whether he’d found her somewhere in the park. She had no choice but to go and search. Getting there was the problem because it meant working her way through two miles of pasture and swamp, and wading or swimming the canal that formed the back boundary of the park.

  She dug through Fred’s clothing and found his heaviest pair of pants, took off her clothes and put on Fred’s jeans then threw on a long-sleeved flannel shirt. The advancing fire would be driving animals before it and Emily knew she had every chance of running into snakes, gators, and other unhappy creatures fleeing the conflagration. She grabbed several pairs of Fred’s socks, put them on, and then shoved her feet into his high top leather hiking boots. There. That should make it easier to trek through the palmetto scrub and harder for biting critters to get to her ankles and legs. If the back canal was deep enough to swim, she’d have to rethink her garb, but until then she felt somewhat protected.

  She took several of Fred’s work handkerchiefs and dunked them into the rain barrel at the side of the bar. It crossed her mind that she might come down with some kind of disease from the stagnant water, but she did her best Scarlet O’Hara and decided to think about that tomorrow. She tied the wet bandanna over her mouth, took the large flashlight she always carried in the glove box and set out across the fields toward her condo park.

  The glow from the fire backlit the field, and she could make out movement in the long grass. To her left several coyotes fled along the fence line, then faded into the stand of oaks to the north. A snake slithered across her boot and moved quickly away from the fire. Soon the heat and smoke made walking more difficult. Despite her mouth covering, she coughed with each breath she took. Human figures moved in front of the flames, lighting the underbrush in an attempt to create an area where there would be no fuel for the advancing fire. She detoured north to avoid them and came to the canal running the length of the back of the park. It formed the tail end of a slough.

  Luck’s with me. Due to months of dry weather, the canal was only several feet deep. She waded through it, the mud at its bottom sucking at her boots. She looked around as she came up on the other side. It appeared that no one was left in the park, but the heat from the fire slowed her down. She could see only several feet in front of her and the temperature was almost like sticking her head into an oven. Sweat ran in streams down her back and legs. She pushed on thinking of what fate might await Naomi if her husband found her.

  She sat down on a bench positioned in front of one of the bath houses, pulled off her clothing down to her underwear, and shucked the socks and boots from her feet. She left the clothes in a heap on the ground. She’d come back for them later. Now she could move. She ran up the deserted street to her house.

  The door was locked just as she’d left it, but the house felt different somehow. She grabbed the key hidden under the sego palm next to the drive. Her new hiding place. Not as benign as the plastic turtle. Fred would be proud of her. Ouch, ouch. The thorns on the damn palm stuck into her hands and arms. She congratulated herself on selecting such a good hiding place.

  The living room, kitchen, bath, and master bedroom looked the same as when she abandoned them earlier. Wait. Had she left the door to the guest bedroom open? She peeked in.

  “Naomi?” No one answered. She began to walk back into the hall when she looked again at the bed. Darren’s back pack was gone. So Naomi was here, but had left.

  She looked through the large window facing the canal. The palm trees across the water were in flame and the wind generated by the fire was blowing burning limbs and fronds across the water. One flaming frond landed on Vicki and Carl’s house. Nothing she could do about that now. She’d better h
urry. She turned on the faucet in the kitchen and wet her bandanna again, placing it over her mouth as she fled through her door and into the car port.

  She locked up, but carried the key with her. Now the air was acrid with smoke so black and thick she could barely see Vicki’s house.

  And she certainly didn’t see the man who grabbed her by the arm.

  “Donald,” she said, once she calmed down enough to find her voice. The man scared the hell out of her. “What are you doing here?

  “Following you, of course. I was on my way out here to see if I could help when I saw your car pull into the Biscuit, so I wondered what you were up to.”

  “I was looking for Naomi. Her husband came into the park as I was leaving. I think she’s been here, but I don’t know if he took her.”

  “He didn’t,” said Green. “I saw him in his Mercedes heading back into town when I pulled into the Biscuit.”

  “You know about him? How?” asked Emily.

  “That’s a long story, and I don’t think we have time for it unless you intend for us to be the main course in a barbeque.”

  Emily coughed into her bandana and noticed Donald wore nothing over his nose. “Here. Take this.” She handed him one of the cloths she’d wet back at the Biscuit.

  “Thanks. We’d better get moving. The fire has encircled the east side and front of the park and is burning a path across the back canal and soon we’ll have no way to get out of here except to swim Nubbin Slough.”

  Emily shuddered. The slough was filled with alligators, most of whom liked to hunt at night. She recently read an article in the paper reporting that a young man lost his arm to a gator there when he took a two am swim.

  Emily looked at Donald and could tell he was thinking of the same incident.

  “Well,” she said, “Wildlife and Fisheries killed over five gators to find the one with the kid’s arm in his belly, so I guess we should look on the bright side.”

  “Which would be that the gators recently dined?”

  “No, that there are fewer of them now.”

  “Let’s move,” said Donald. He grabbed her arm.

  “Can we stop by the bath house down the road?”

  “You can pee in the bushes. We don’t have time.”

  “But I left my clothes there. Didn’t you see me take them off?”

  “This smoke is so thick, I can hardly see you now and I’m holding your hand.” He leaned in closer. “You only got on underwear and no shoes.”

  “Right.” She prepared to follow him, but when she stepped outside the carport, she said, “Ugh. What’s that?”

  “What?”

  “I stepped in a puddle of something wet and sticky. I hope it’s not the carcass of some animal dead or dying because of the fire.”

  “Let me see that.” Donald lifted up her foot while she clung to him for balance. “Nope, it’s not a squished or partly burned anything. It’s . . .” He held his finger near his nose. “Chewing tobacco.”

  “Oh, God, it must be one of those old farts who’s always chewing and spitting in the pool room. The woman who cleans the buildings here complains that someone misses the toilet, and she was to wipe it off the floor and the seat.”

  The image of the fat detective and his spit can the night she was arrested came to mind, but what would he be doing out here? No time to dwell on that now. She and Donald sped down the street dodging flying embers from the trees and grasses, but what she feared most met them at the end of the road. The fire had reached the back canal blocking their way out of the park. Emily grabbed her clothes and shoes, hurriedly put them on, and she and Donald ran for the slough.

  Naomi rode in silence, wishing Toby would drive faster. She wasn’t certain why Darren and Clara hadn’t been truthful about the name on the birth certificate, but she knew the lie was somehow involved in the murders. She dug around in the back pack and extracted the paper to read it once again.

  “You look worried about something,” said Toby. “Maybe I can help.”

  “I don’t think so.” She tucked the certificate back into the pack.

  “What’s the paper you got there?”

  “Nothing.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. A thin trickle of brown liquid ran from the corner of his mouth. The car smelled of sweat and the sour smell of wet tobacco. Suddenly Naomi wanted to be out of here.

  “Could we stop at the gas station up ahead? I’ve got to use the bathroom, and I don’t think I can make it into town.”

  Toby nodded, turned on his blinker and pulled off. He checked his rearview mirror and spotted a Mercedes several cars behind him. It drove on by, then pulled off and parked on the other side of an abandoned bait shop.

  Several minutes passed as Toby waited for Naomi to come out of the bathroom. He didn’t want to have to go in and get her if somehow she figured it out and locked herself in. Toby’s cell rang.

  “We can make the switch here. It’s probably better than closer to town where someone might see us.”

  “You got the money on you?”

  “I got two hundred. Your work is sloppy. You promised me you’d get her this afternoon. I had to go running around the park looking for her and for you tonight.”

  “Two hundred! You promised me five hundred over the two hundred you already gave me. No deal.”

  “You’re a dirty cop, Toby. I can make it hard for you.”

  Toby considered his options. All his so-called part-time jobs were in jeopardy. He’d just as soon get some money than none.

  “Okay. Here she comes.”

  Naomi opened the door of the SUV, placed her backpack on the floor, and put her foot into the vehicle. The man Toby had talked with on the phone appeared behind her. He gripped her arm and pulled her back out of the car.

  Toby grabbed the backpack, extracted the paper, and scanned it. One eyebrow lifted with a look of interest.

  “Well, well. This might be of some use to me.” He tucked the paper in his pocket and threw the pack at Naomi.

  Naomi grabbed it and whirled on the man who held her in his grip. “Get your hands off me,” she said.

  “Don’t let’s make a scene now, hear, or it’ll be harder on you when I get you home.” Her husband, Barry, tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her along with him as he strode toward his car.

  She slapped his chest with her free arm and kicked at his legs, but her struggles were as ineffective as a cattle egret in a gator’s mouth.

  “I hate you. I hate you. Let me go or I’ll . . .”

  “What will you do? Call the cops? That’s funny.”

  Toby watched the two of them from the police cruiser, saw the ugly smile on the husband’s face, and witnessed the young woman’s desperate look of resignation. Her body went limp, and she ceased struggling, gasping for breath, tears running down her face. The big man gave her a shake and she quieted. It reminded Toby of a macabre dance, the complicated steps memorized long ago.

  Toby jumped out of the SUV. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

  Her husband straightened his tie. “I don’t think there’s anything else. Unless you want to join the little lady here in calling the authorities.” A sound rumbled up from his throat, a scoffing laugh that increased in intensity until it shook his sandy curls and spittle flew from his open mouth. He yanked again at Naomi’s arm. There was no way Toby wanted to make trouble for this giant. He’d take what he had and like it.

  Toby watched the two of them round the corner of the building and heard the Mercedes start up. He should have been furious at losing the two hundred bucks, but he patted the paper in his breast pocket and thought of how he could triple his money if he got to the right people. And Toby knew the right people.

  CHAPTER 23

  The glow from the fire behind them lit up the slough with dozens of glowing red balls—gator eyes. Emily hoped they weren’t in the mood for hunting tonight. The fire could have riled them enough that they were off their feed. On the other hand, she worrie
d they were so agitated that any ripple on the surface of the water would be seen as an intrusion into their territory, and the attack would be particularly vicious.

  Donald and Emily exchanged wary looks.

  “Roast here and be grabbed well-done by the gators or wade in and let them have us rare. What’s your pleasure?” asked Donald.

  “Neither. There’s got to be some way around this.” The roaring of the fire blasted in their ears, and the heat intensified.

  Emily began to walk along the shoreline, parallel to the slough and the fire behind them.

  “If we head this way far enough, we should come to the railroad bed. The tracks cross the slough somewhere and that means there must be a bridge.”

  “That’s an abandoned line and the bridge probably fell down years ago,” said Donald.

  “It’s worth a try,” she said. And it put off making the awful choice of how to die for a few more minutes.

  They hurried along the slough, careful to keep well away from the water in case any reptiles large or small waited for prey to come rushing out of the fire.

  “Look,” said Emily. She pointed ahead where the supports for the railroad bridge rose before them like huge black towers guarding the entrance to a forbidden country. She ran toward them.

  But there was nothing between the structures.

  “You were right. The bridge is gone.” Emily threw herself onto the ground at the foot of one of the trusses.