Sweet Taste of Revenge

by Mary Ellis

  Kate approached the plank with a friendly yet professional expression. ‘Good afternoon, sir. Forgive me for disturbing you. I’m Kate Weller of Price Investigations. I’ve been hired by Lainey Westin to assist with the investigation.’ She pulled out both her PI license and a photocopy of the contract and passed them across the yellow barrier.

  He inspected both carefully and even held the contract up to the light, as though waiting for the ink to disappear. When satisfied, he offered Kate his hand. ‘I’m Lieutenant Julian Buckley of the Sheriff’s Department. You haven’t disturbed me, but it’ll be at least another day or two before we release the Arrivederci Sorrento to Miss Westin or her representative. This is an ongoing homicide investigation, Miss Weller.’

  ‘Yes, sir, I understand, and I wouldn’t dream of crossing your tape.’ But I could listen to your charming accent all day, she thought, hiking her leather tote up her shoulder. ‘From your terminology, may I assume natural causes have been ruled out in Mrs Westin’s death?’

  A slow smile revealed sparkling white teeth. ‘You may not. Until the medical examiner finishes his autopsy and all evidence has been processed, nothing has been ruled out. But we do prefer to err on the side of caution.’

  ‘Very wise.’ She nodded energetically. ‘May I ask who made the initial 911 call?’

  He frowned. ‘Why would I tell you that, Miss Weller?’

  ‘Knowing who made the call would go a long way in easing the daughter’s mind, because whoever made the call most likely discovered Mrs Westin’s body. And Miss Lainey Westin is hoping her mother hadn’t over-imbibed and fallen overboard.’ Looking appropriately mortified, Kate dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘The daughter hopes that Mom hadn’t been spotted by a fisherman floating face down in the inlet. The poor woman would have been at the mercy of carnivorous fish or worse … sharks.’ Kate clutched her throat with the mental picture.

  ‘Stop surmising, PI. First of all, sharks don’t usually come into Santa Rosa Sound, so I caution you against starting baseless rumors. And secondly, although the tox screen will reveal whether or not she had over-imbibed, I assure you Mrs Westin was never in the water.’ Buckley pushed his sunglasses up his nose. ‘There, you wormed something out of me. So if you can return to your post, I’d like to finish up here.’

  ‘Thank you, Lieutenant, for sharing that with me. I came all the way down from Natchez, Mississippi to work this case.’ Kate pumped his hand like a well handle.

  He discreetly extracted his hand. ‘So I noticed on your license.’

  Just then they both heard sounds of a scuffle, along with irate male and female voices. Buckley most likely recognized the male voice, while Kate knew exactly who the female voice belonged to.

  A portly uniformed officer dragged Beth Kirby around the ship’s main cabin. ‘I found this woman sneaking onto the crime scene, Lieutenant. She crawled under the tape and was heading down the crew staircase.’

  ‘I tried to explain to your officer that this is all a misunderstanding.’ Beth shook off the cop’s hold. ‘I was cutting across the Arrivederci from the Dancing Fool on my way to the dock. I know the Westins wouldn’t mind me stepping over their yellow party ribbon.’

  ‘Oh, yeah? Then why were you headed down the crew staircase?’ The officer didn’t loosen his grip on Beth’s arm.

  ‘I got scared when I saw all the cops. So I tried to hide below deck.’

  Beth might have gotten away with her bizarre explanation if not for growling sounds coming from Kate’s throat. And the fact that when the lieutenant demanded Beth’s ID, a Mississippi driver’s license was one coincidence too many.

  ‘I take it you know this woman, Miss Weller?’ asked Buckley.

  ‘Yes, sir, unfortunately I do. Miss Kirby is a brand-new investigator who’s still learning the ropes. I hope you won’t formally charge her.’ To Beth, Kate muttered, ‘What did you think “Crime Scene – Do Not Cross” meant, Kirby?’

  Beth played along with the juxtaposition of roles. ‘Sorry, Miss Weller, I thought it didn’t apply to me because I’m an investigator. Please don’t tell the boss. He’ll fire me for sure this time.’

  Buckley handed back Beth’s driver’s license. ‘If I see you anywhere near my crime scene again, I’ll get the real owners of the Dancing Fool to press trespassing charges at the very minimum. Now get out of my sight.’ He pointed at the plank leading to the dock.

  ‘See you back at the car, Miss Weller,’ Beth said meekly.

  After a final scowl, Kate turned back to the police. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant. I’m grateful you didn’t throw her in jail.’

  ‘I’ve already got a mountain of paperwork with this case.’ Buckley studied Kate for a long moment, and then handed her his business card. ‘The ship’s captain along with two crew members found Mrs Westin slumped in a chair. The captain called in the 911. No one else was on the ship.’

  Kate nodded. ‘Thank you, sir. Now if I might return the professional courtesy. Miss Westin said her mother often entertained here without staff – both for business and with personal friends. But if the captain and crew showed up, she must have planned an evening sail. Mrs Westin was a stickler for privacy. Although if she allowed other boats to raft off the Arrivederci, I don’t know how much privacy she had.’

  ‘The Dancing Fool was tied up snuggly in its own slip when I arrived.’ Buckley peered down his nose at Kate. ‘My guess is your protégée took it upon herself to untie the ropes and raft the Dancing Fool off the Arrivederci – something owners of expensive ships would never do.’

  Kate’s expression revealed utter shock. ‘Oh, no, I’ll take care of that right now.’

  Buckley waved off her suggestion. ‘No. Since I have sailing experience, I’ll return the Dancing Fool to her slip. You just keep the new PI away from me.’

  ‘You have my word.’

  Buckley studied her face for a second time. ‘Why don’t you call me in a few days? I might have some information I can share. In the meantime, let me give you some advice: Tell your boss about Kirby’s stunt. If he fires her now, it’ll save you plenty of stress down the road.’ Buckley turned on his heel and walked away.

  Kate had no idea why the police detective was being so nice, but she smiled all the way to her car.

  Santa Rosa Correctional Institution

  At the appointed hour, all the doors in the cellblock slid back, allowing Liam and his fellow inmates to proceed in orderly fashion to the dining hall. No pushing, shoving, or talking in line. It was very much like elementary school except that, instead of a young pretty teacher who could make you spend recess on the bench, guards armed with batons made the rules. And, since every single movement made inside prison walls was caught on video, other guards armed with highly lethal weapons could materialize at a moment’s notice. That succinct fact had been made clear to Liam and every inmate upon arrival. Liam had no desire to tunnel beneath concrete walls sunk well below ground level, or to make his grand escape in the back of a garbage truck. He planned to learn a trade and serve his time, so when released he would never end up back here.

  He had never fallen victim to the addictive allure of alcohol or drugs. Money and the power it conveyed had been his personal Achilles’ heel. But his plan to share in great wealth had earned him twenty years, stripped of privacy and without the ability to change the tiniest variable in his life. Thus, Liam queued silently with the others to receive a tray of nutritious but barely palatable food and take his assigned place in the dining hall. Although talking was permitted, most men had little to say to those they had nothing in common with, except for current circumstances. Familiarity breeds contempt, never more so than among incarcerated prisoners.

  Liam peered at the roast beef in dark gravy over mashed potatoes and began to eat, starting with the canned green beans first. Nothing tasted particularly different than usual in the two-week rotation of meal menus. But as he sopped up gravy with his sole slice of bread, Liam felt an uncomfortable rumble deep in his gut. He set
his fork on the tray, took a drink of water, and swallowed. After a moment, the uncomfortable rumbles morphed into wrenching spasms that made it difficult to breathe. Liam pushed away the tray and glanced around the table. None of the other men seemed to be struggling with the bland potatoes and overcooked beef.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, man?’ asked a burly man named Carlos.

  But Liam couldn’t speak. Gripping the edge of the table, he waited for the spasms to pass.

  ‘Try drinking some water,’ suggested the helpful Carlos. ‘This horsemeat won’t go down without it.’

  But water wouldn’t help in this situation. Soon the spasms turned into a pain so intense, Liam expected to see blood staining his shirt. Struggling to his feet, he prayed he would reach the men’s room in time. But as he tried to step over the bench, he tripped and sprawled helplessly into the aisle. Falling, he tasted both blood and the bile that had risen up his throat. Although Liam couldn’t be sure, he thought he heard Carlos say, ‘Man, that guy’s been poisoned,’ right before his head hit the hard concrete floor.

  When Liam awoke, he was lying on a narrow hospital bed and staring at a dingy white ceiling. A thin beige blanket had been pulled up to his throat and, surprisingly, his wrists weren’t tied to the bed frame.

  ‘Where am I?’ he croaked, his throat painfully dry.

  ‘In the infirmary.’ A wrinkled, weathered face appeared above him. ‘You passed out in the dining hall. I’m Doc Murphy. Try to sit up and drink this. You’re no doubt dehydrated, considering you threw up all over yourself. The man who has to mop that up ain’t gonna be happy with you, Weller.’

  ‘What happened?’ Liam struggled to a sitting position and sipped from a plastic cup. His insides churned as the water hit his stomach, but at least the searing pain had stopped.

  ‘Who knows? Something sure didn’t agree with you.’

  ‘Did anybody else get sick?’ he rasped.

  ‘Nope.’ The doctor refilled his cup from the pitcher.

  ‘Doesn’t that strike you as strange?’ Liam supported himself with his elbows.

  ‘Nope, funny thing about food in this place. Some men can tolerate it just fine, others don’t handle it well. I notified the warden, but he said if nobody else gets sick, I’m to write this up as stomach flu in my report.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe that’s it.’ Liam studied the aging medical practitioner, but Murphy returned the gaze with benign interest. Nothing about his behavior indicated he was part of a conspiracy to poison certain inmates.

  Just then the phone on the wall rang. Doc Murphy took his time answering it. ‘Infirmary,’ he finally barked into the mouthpiece.

  ‘Right now?’ he asked.

  ‘But I’ve got a patient in here …’

  ‘Fine, no need to get hot under the collar.’

  Doc Murphy hung up the phone and turned back to Liam. ‘Sorry, but I gotta step out for a little while and protocol says I must lock you down. Nothing personal.’ Adroitly, he snapped a handcuff on Liam’s wrist and attached the other end to the metal frame. A second pair secured his other arm in the same fashion. ‘I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, try to get some sleep. The Donnatal I gave you for the cramping should make you drowsy. If this is the flu, sleep is the best cure I can offer.’ Murphy punched a code into the keypad on the wall, and when the door unlocked he stepped into the hallway. A cool draft blew in behind him.

  With not much else to do, Liam closed his eyes and felt his muscles relax one by one. But his fitful slumber didn’t last long. Without warning, someone jerked him by the shoulder, upright enough to slip a black hood over his head. Instinctively, Liam fought to free his arms from the wrist restraints. The cloth smelled foul, but he was no match for cold steel, even if he hadn’t been sedated.

  ‘Relax, Weller,’ a voice whispered next to his ear. ‘I ain’t here to kill you, not this time anyway.’ The hand on his chest pushed him down on the bed.

  ‘What do you want?’ Liam asked, fighting back a wave of nausea.

  ‘Just to give a smart boy like you a bit of advice.’ The hand exerted pressure on Liam’s ribs. ‘How did ya like that special seasoning on your meat? Kinda put an extra kick into dinner, no?’

  Straining against his restraints, Liam let loose with a string of expletives. But with each name, the pressure on his chest increased until he gasped for breath.

  ‘I’d shut that mouth of yours, Weller, and just listen. Or I’ll accidentally wring your neck like a chicken.’

  As the rough, nasty cloth tightened against his face, Liam let his body go limp.

  ‘As I was saying … this is only a warning. Stop whatever it is you’re doing in the law library. And, if I were you, I wouldn’t tell that new lawyer of yours to start digging up the past. You might get a stronger dose of seasoning that kills with just one bite. So, unless you plan the longest hunger strike in prison history, let the sleeping dogs lie.’

  Suddenly the pressure on his chest lifted. For a moment, Liam thought his tormentor had gone. Then the man whispered in his other ear. ‘And that sister of yours? What a pretty thing little Katie turned into, or so I’m told. Why did she come back to town, Weller?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Liam rasped. ‘Whatever her reason, it’s got nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Then how come she came to visit you with that red-haired PI from Savannah?’

  Liam had never felt so helpless in his entire life. ‘I didn’t see no redheads, and I don’t know no PIs, from Savannah or anywhere else. My sister wanted to see what I looked like these days. She probably won’t be back for another sixteen years. We’re not exactly close.’

  ‘You’d better hope that’s the case, or little Katie will find something very bad in her morning yogurt.’

  This creep knew what his sister ate for breakfast? Lunging against his restraints, Liam launched another volley of expletives. But it was doubtful his tormentor heard them, because the man’s hands closed around Liam’s throat and squeezed until Liam saw thousands of flashing lights before his eyes. Then his world went dark and he was aware of nothing at all.

  ‘Weller,’ called a voice from far away.

  ‘Weller, wake up! What happened in here?’

  Liam finally roused to consciousness as Doc Murphy removed the left handcuff. ‘You tell me. I woke up to someone pulling a hood over my head. Then someone tried to choke me.’

  Murphy turned Liam’s face to the side to examine his neck. ‘Good golly. Who did that?’

  Struggling to sit up, Liam knocked away the doctor’s hand. ‘How would I know? You left me drugged and tied to the table.’

  Murphy uncuffed his other wrist. ‘Man, somebody’s really got it out for you.’

  ‘And you’re helping them.’ Liam coughed up blood into his palm.

  ‘I swear I’m not. I got called to the loading dock for an order of pharmaceuticals that just arrived. I’m the only one allowed to sign for them. But deliveries never come this late in the day.’

  ‘Let me guess: Nothing was waiting when you got there, right?’

  Murphy just stared at him.

  ‘If you’re not with them, you just played right into their hands.’

  ‘Not on purpose. I do my best for the inmates. I’m not out to do anyone harm.’ Indignation resonated in Murphy’s voice.

  ‘If that’s true, you need to get a message to my sister.’

  The doctor lifted a bushy white eyebrow. ‘I also don’t get involved in inmate squabbles.’

  ‘Whoever sneaked in here and tried to kill me also plans to kill her. Warn her to stay away from Santa Rosa Prison and anything that has to do with me.’

  ‘Is that it?’

  When Liam nodded, Murphy produced a pen and paper. ‘Write down her name and number. When I’m far away from this place, I’ll give her a call, but only this once. So don’t ask again.’

  Liam wrote down the number he’d committed to memory during Kate’s visit. Then he took a long look at his physician. Murphy had to be a
t least seventy, and the broken capillaries in his nose indicated a lifetime of alcohol abuse. The man walked with a limp, while his general demeanor could best be described as dazed and confused. Hopefully, he could rally his faculties long enough to see that no harm came to his sister.

  Because this old man was the best hope Liam had.

  FOUR

  Lost in her thoughts, Kate almost didn’t hear her cell phone ring.

  ‘Good morning, sunshine,’ said Michael Preston. ‘Did I wake you?’

  ‘Of course not. You’re talking to me, not to your fiancée. I’m out for my morning run in beautiful downtown Pensacola. What’s up?’

  ‘Is my intended bride with you?’ he asked with a laugh.

  ‘Let me repeat – of course not. It’s early. Did you want to talk to Beth?’

  ‘No, it’s you I need.’

  ‘Did Beth tell you about her shenanigans yesterday at my crime scene?’

  ‘She did.’ All frivolity vanished from Michael’s voice. ‘Beth felt terrible about jamming you up with that detective. Living in upstate Mississippi, she’s not had much boating experience, and none on sailboats that size. She didn’t realize the potential consequences of untying that yacht.’

  ‘Beth was lucky the bumpers were out on the Dancing Fool when it drifted up against the Arrivederci Sorrento.’

  ‘You’re not kidding, or she and I would be paying off damages for years.’

  Kate checked her watch. ‘Is that why you called? Because she and I have resolved our differences: Beth is hereby banned from my crime scene, plus she buys me lunch for a year.’

  ‘Well done, Weller, but no. I called because I have information. I did some checking on Agnes Westin. Should I wait until you’re back at the hotel to tell you?’

  ‘No way, let’s hear it now.’ Kate plopped down on a retaining wall.