A Body on Fitzgerald's Bluff

by Anna Celeste Burke

  I’m not sure why Mark’s disclosures hit me so hard. I suppressed a gasp as another of the men in Diana’s life was mentioned in connection with a story that didn’t end well. Neely must have felt the same way. She glimpsed at me as she spoke to Mark.

  “Well, how do you like that! Andi told us Diana was dating a guy by that name. Poor sap!”

  “That’s not surprising, is it?” Mark asked.

  “Did he see her lift the items?” Mark shook his head in response to my question.

  “No. That was part of the reason he didn’t bother to say anything about it. Mostly, he was just relieved he didn’t get into more trouble than he did. The laptop and camera and other stolen items were pricey enough to get him charged with a felony.” Mark appeared to be staring at the menu above the counter in the shop that featured Mediterranean-themed dishes. Something told me his mind had drifted elsewhere.

  “You’ve been very helpful. Let us buy you lunch, okay?” Neely asked.

  “That would be nice. Thanks. I hope none of this will keep you from opening a shop if that’s what you want to do, Tara. Don’t let Diana Durand’s troubles kill your dream, okay?” I smiled at his earnestness and felt another twinge of guilt about lying to him about who I was. I’d never be good as an undercover cop or a spy.

  “I hear you. There are troubled people everywhere, aren’t there?”

  “You’ve got that right!” He beamed at me again. “You can’t let them stop you!”

  What an upbeat, resilient guy, I thought, studying him as he stood there smiling. One of the blessings of youth, if it wasn’t a ploy to cover up his true feelings toward Diana. Bitterness had entered his voice at times when he’d described what Diana had done to Howard and Edgar Humphrey, Judi Stephenson, and Mike Evans. How disturbing had he found Diana’s behavior? Had it enflamed the anger he felt about the wrong she’d done to him enough to provoke him into killing her? Given his age and apparent fitness, he could have strangled her and then dragged her body into the water. Nothing in his demeanor gave him away as he continued our conversation.

  “Do you two want something? I’m going to take my sandwich back with me to the employee break area. You could join me for lunch there.”

  “I’m full. What about you, Tara?”

  “No, Mom. I’m stuffed too.” I replied, still playing out my role as Tara Brown. “We’ll walk back with you, though. It would be interesting to hear what Howard Humphrey has to say about Diana Durand. Maybe he’ll talk to us.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. He’s big on keeping it ‘all in the family’ when it comes to talking about whatever went on between him, his uncle, and Diana. That’s what he told me when I asked him about Edgar and Diana, along with a request that I ‘butt out.’ I’ll be right back,” Mark said as he stepped up to the counter to place his order.

  “All in the family, huh? That’s an odd way of putting it. Do you think that meant Howard was acting in a protective way toward his uncle or was he still hoping to keep his options open with Diana after she dumped him and cheated on Edgar?” I asked.

  “Who knows?” Neely replied, shrugging her shoulders. Then she added another point. “Howard was seen with Diana after Edgar told her to take a hike. He must have had some sort of unfinished business with Diana if he wasn’t still stuck on her.”

  “Hmm, that’s a good point. I wonder what kind of unfinished business that could have been.” Before Neely could speculate, Mark was back. She rushed to the cash register to make good on her offer to pay for his lunch.

  “That was fast!” I exclaimed.

  “I always order the same thing—gyro with tzatziki sauce. They started boxing it up for me when I opened the door. Great food! Great service!”

  Once Neely returned after paying Mark’s lunch tab, we headed back to the golf shop. That’s when I remembered another question for him about Diana.

  “Mark, did you ever hear that Diana had a boyfriend who worked in security?”

  “Not that I recall, but why not? She made friends easily enough, as you know. Men friends, anyway. Why do you ask?”

  “We heard about Judi Stephenson’s situation and wondered how Diana was able to plant merchandise for security to find at just the right moment, if that’s what happened. We thought maybe a boyfriend in security told her they were on the way since the visit was intended to be a surprise.”

  “I didn’t consider that angle. Since you two seem to know so much about what’s gone on around here, it may not be news to you that she had a relationship with a guy in management. Dave Winnick’s got big dreams and isn’t shy about sharing them with anyone who’ll listen. He wants to end up as CEO of the resort someday and intends to expand the property before that happens. I figured Dave slipped her the information to avoid a scandal over the fact that he’d been involved with a woman caught stealing from the company he hopes to run someday.”

  “Would he have been in the loop on an unannounced visit by security?” I asked.

  “I’m not certain who security reports to when it comes to something like that, but if it involved Diana, he probably got a heads up about it. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d helped her out.”

  “We heard she and Winnick let the flame die out once she made a move to cozy up with Edgar.” Mark looked at Neely as he pondered her question for a moment.

  “Well, I didn’t know about Edgar, remember? Diana did tell me she’d broken it off with Dave. When I asked her why, she said she’d figured out it wasn’t a good idea to date your boss.”

  “It’s hard to believe that would matter to Diana,” I muttered.

  “For me too. I’d be more willing to believe what she figured out is that it’s not a good idea to make it obvious that you’re dating the boss.” Neely nodded in agreement with Mark’s point.

  “That’s an interesting idea. Maybe she was continuing to see him even after she took up with Edgar,” I suggested.

  “And me, even after I confronted her about Edgar if I hadn’t told her to get lost. And maybe Howard. And Mike in Guest Services, until they fired him. Who knows how many other men she was stringing along? Good luck sorting out Diana’s messes.”

  “For a man with big dreams, Dave Winnick wasn’t too choosy when it came to women, was he?” I mused.

  “Well, like I said, Diana was gorgeous. She loved socializing and could really turn on the charm when she wanted to—quite a trophy wife. When I ran into her that day with Howard’s Uncle Edgar, it seemed clear to me that Diana had a different kind of marriage in mind. Why hook up with someone like Winnick and face years of work as a corporate wife when she could marry some guy like Edgar with a short ‘use by date’ and end up with his money?”

  “My, my, you have given this some thought, haven’t you?” Neely asked Mark as we found ourselves back at the Blue Haven Pro Shop.

  “Too much, I’m afraid,” he replied with a grim expression on his face.

  I wondered what that meant as I suddenly considered him, once again, as a murder suspect. He seemed to have come to grips with the kind of woman Diana Durand was and I didn’t hear anything in what he said to suggest he still had an ax to grind or bore her the kind of ill will demonstrated by the person who’d strangled her. Still, his comment was a curious one. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a chance to ask him about it.

  When we opened the door and stepped into the store, my mind went blank. Neely and I froze. Detective Miller was standing in front of us, looking around as if he’d just entered the pro shop. When he turned to see who’d entered the store after him, he spotted me. He did a double-take, glancing at me then Neely and back at me again. I felt trapped as someone else stepped into the shop right behind me, preventing me from making a quick escape.

  “Well, well, well, Miriam Webster, we meet again.”

  “Hello, Detective.” My voice sounded odd, almost squeaky as I acknowledged Hank Miller’s greeting. Off to my left, Howard Humphrey went on alert. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him step behin
d the counter from a back room. He stood, motionless now, not far from where he’d been when we left earlier with Mark. As his eyes moved from me to the detective, he shoved the papers he held into a large manila envelope.

  “Miriam? I thought you said your name was Tara?” Mark asked as he turned to face me. His eyes zeroed in on me in a way that made me squirm. “You’re not really interested in opening a bake shop, are you?” Hank Miller looked puzzled. I blushed under their gazes.

  Some Mata Hari! My first undercover operation and I’m nabbed, I thought. I glanced at Neely, who was smiling, but didn’t appear to be ready to come to my defense with some clever explanation.

  “Bake shop? I thought you were writing a script.” My heart raced at the sound of Andi Stoeckel’s voice as she stepped around from behind me, and stared now, too.

  “Hey, Hemingway, is that really you? What are you doing here?” Carl asked, emerging from behind a golf club exhibit.

  “Hemingway?” Mark asked almost in a whisper.

  “Whoa, you look hot!” Joe bellowed as he popped out from the same location as Carl. “Are you on a date with the detective?” Then he took a closer look at Neely. “With a chaperone? Neely, that is you, right? Where’s all your hair?”

  I felt my face flush again—with embarrassment. I’m not sure what was more mortifying—getting caught sneaking around using a fake name to con people or being asked that question about dating the detective. As I stood there, speechless, I spotted Howard on the move again. This time he hustled as he headed out from behind the counter and into the back room.

  “Very funny, you guys. Nobody’s here on a date with or without a chaperone,” Neely said in a chiding tone.

  “Sorry. Miriam’s husband might not find it so funny,” Joe apologized.

  “He doesn’t seem to be around much though, does he? Maybe she figures what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Is that right, Tara?” Carl asked with that poker face of his.

  “What’s going on with the name game, Tara, Miriam, Hemingway—whatever your name really is?” Mark asked.

  “I’d like to hear the answer to that, too, if you don’t mind.” Hank Miller’s blue eyes seemed to see right through me.

  “So would I!” Andi added.

  My mind went blank again. My mouth was too dry to speak even if I could have figured out what to say. Fortunately, I was saved by the bell when a low ding-dong issued from the back room where Howard had taken refuge. Mark glanced toward the sound, and then took a closer look, this time, at Joe and Carl. His eyes lit up as he spoke.

  “Wait a second. You’re the guys from Seaview Cottages. I saw you in here talking to Howard a couple of weeks ago. If you were hoping to quiz him the way your friends did me, you just missed your chance. Howard Humphrey has left the building.”

  Mark’s comments got the detective’s attention. He turned in time to see Howard Humphrey outside through the large windows behind the checkout counter. Howard was taking big strides and moving at a good clip.

  “What’s the hurry?” Hank Miller asked in a low voice as if speaking to himself.

  “Hang on a second. Don’t anyone go anywhere.” He stepped away and placed a quick phone call. I presume it had something to do with picking up Howard Humphrey since I heard him say “out the back and heading to the parking lot.” When he returned, the detective ignored the rest of us and spoke to Mark Hudson.

  “Where were you between midnight and seven a.m. on the morning Diana Durand was killed?”

  Shoot! I thought. We should have asked him that question. I hoped Mark had a good answer since, despite my suspicions, I hated to believe he was Diana’s killer. Instead of answering Hank Miller’s question, he posed one of his own. I was surprised that his tone had become belligerent.

  “Why don’t you ask the woman with multiple names and phony occupations that question? I’ve had it with being set up by screwy women!”

  “As a matter of fact, I’ve already done that. Ms. Webster’s the one who discovered Diana Durand’s body on the bluff near Seaview Cottages.”

  “Really?” Andi asked. “Then why were you sneaking around, using a fake name, and asking a bunch of questions as if you had no idea what was going on?”

  “Bribing people, too. I’ll bet you didn’t even bake these, did you?” Mark asked, holding up the little box of scones he still carried.

  “Bribery is right. Those are the best scones I’ve ever eaten. Still, what’s the story? Are you a fake baker or a fake scriptwriter?” Andi asked.

  Detective Miller’s head was moving back and forth as Andi and Mark pummeled me with questions. It was almost as if he were watching a tennis match. He raised both hands and motioned for the action to stop.

  “Please, leave the questions to me. I already warned these folks not to do it, so I’m sure no one is here snooping into police business, right?”

  Neely shuffled. Carl and Joe did too, much to my surprise. I bowed my head to avoid making eye contact with Hank. That wasn’t strictly because I felt embarrassed. There was a tone in his voice I found irritating. Having been nabbed with my hand in the cookie jar now was probably not the time to glare defiantly at the lawman, so I kept my eyes focused firmly on the floor.

  “Oh, come on. What harm could there be in asking a few questions?” Joe argued.

  “Yeah,” Carl echoed him. “If anyone knows who else Diana was dating, it must be Howard. We wanted him to tell us if he’d spotted her out on the beach with someone since he’s renting the old Upton Sinclair place down there.”

  “He is?” I asked as my head popped up. Joe and Carl both nodded. “Edgar said Howard was staying with him at the Twain Cottage.”

  “Not every night, obviously,” Carl retorted.

  “That’s good sleuthing,” Neely said either oblivious or in defiance of Hank’s statement that he’d warned us not to stick our noses into police business.

  “Thanks,” Joe said. “We’ve got to do what we can to help you ladies since that strangler might have seen you.” I opened my mouth to chide him about the use of that term “ladies” given how annoying it sounded. Mainly because Deputy Devers so often paired it with “old” in a derogatory way. Andi piped up before I could utter a syllable.

  “Is that true? If you found the body and the killer saw you, why can’t you identify the murderer?” Andi asked with alarm and suspicion.

  “I can assure you that if we’d spotted the killer we wouldn’t be nosing around,” I said with conviction. “Diana’s murderer has the advantage, I’m afraid. We’re almost certain the culprit was nearby when we found Diana’s body—close enough to have seen us.”

  “Wow! That’s creepy. No wonder you’re here pumping people for info. I’d be trying to find out whodunit, too.” Andi shrugged and then appeared as though she had more to say.

  Hank had both hands up making those stop motions again. He obviously wasn’t happy about Andi’s comment and appeared ready to do something drastic. That possibility ratcheted up my already sky-high stress level. Then I recalled the detective’s previous threat and fought hard to squelch a nervous giggle. I couldn’t do it.

  “You’d better watch what you say, Andi, or you’ll get hauled off to the hoosegow for promoting interference with the course of justice.”

  “Hauled off where? For what?” Mark asked in a worried way amid a round of snickers from Joe, Carl, and Neely.

  “That’s it!” Hank cried. “Get out of here or I will call a paddy wagon and have all of you transported to the hoosegow to spend the night.” Mark took a step toward the door.

  “Not you,” Hank exclaimed in an exasperated tone. Despite his attempt to grouse at us, Hank couldn’t keep his upper lip from twitching.

  “The rest of you—please leave now. I have a few questions for Mark, here. Then, I promise, I’ll help the ladies out by having a chat with Howard Humphrey. I’ve got plenty of questions for him.”

  The detective smirked at me, as if deliberately trying to annoy me with the emphas
is he placed on “the ladies” when he used that phrase. Two can play that game. I can be plenty annoying, too.

  “Oh, I can vouch for Mark, Detective. He’s been forthcoming and I’m sure he has nothing to hide. Tell him everything you told us, Mark. Don’t leave anything out, okay?” Mark nodded. Then I smiled my most irritatingly sweet smile. Hank’s brow furrowed as he wearily shook his head.

  “No wonder Devers is the shell of the man he once was. Go!” Hank commanded, pointing to the door. I doubt Deputy Devers was ever much more of a man than he is now, but I didn’t contradict the detective. My work here was done. Almost.

  “I’m leaving. I want to apologize for my deception, Mark and Andi. Let me make it up to you by bringing you more treats, okay?” Mark nodded but didn’t say a word.

  “That would be awesome. I’m going now, too. Good luck, Mark.” Andi smiled at him as we left en masse.

  “Call Judi. She wants to speak to you,” Andi whispered as soon as the door to the pro shop shut behind us. I nodded.

  “How did you know where to find us?” Neely asked.

  “You two aren’t very sneaky for a couple of sleuths.” Joe and Carl snickered at Andi’s remark.

  “We didn’t have much trouble seeing through your disguises either, did we?” Carl asked. Joe chortled. I glared at them and they stopped. Then I sighed. They were right. Andi was, too.

  “At least you didn’t have to go to much trouble since we apparently left a trail of bread crumbs for you to follow like Hansel and Gretel,” I offered.

  “Scone crumbs,” Andi replied as she waved goodbye.

  15 Murder, Men, and Motives

  “Wow! That was a close one, wasn’t it?” Joe asked as we walked to the exit that led from the mall to the parking lot. “The detective was ready to throw the book at us!”