“Soon, I hope. I rather enjoy working alone at The Frangi, but I’m eager to get back to writing full time. Of course everyone’s been a great help to me the past few days. Couldn’t have kept The Frangi running so smoothly without help.”
“You’ve done a great job, Rafa. Don’t put yourself down.”
No point in telling Kane I was used to putting myself down where Mother and Cheri were concerned. The black sheep of the family. That was me.
“Kane, I need to investigate Diego’s murder. I need to do it to help get that killer off the streets.”
We’d finished our salad, and when we stood, Kane pulled me into a deep embrace. We exchanged several long kisses, before I pulled away—reluctantly, and I tried not to let his nearness distract me from what I’d needed to say.
“I have to investigate Diego’s murder, Kane. I have to.”
“Nobody’s asked you to do that.”
“And I’ve thought of another thing.”
Kane shook his head and sighed. “I’m almost afraid to ask. But what else have you thought of?”
“Maybe I have an agenda that goes beyond taking a killer off the streets. I can’t help thinking I could take careful notes during my investigation and use them later in my writing—in writing a book, perhaps a mystery novel. Having my name on a dust jacket is high on my list of lifetime goals.”
“You were planning a column on Diego, right?”
“Right. And maybe I’ll still write it after the talk about his death dies down, but one day I’m going to write a novel. It could be a book based on this horrible murder. I’m going to involve myself in primary research, in unearthing facts that nobody else is privy to. My need to write a book may help solve Diego’s murder, and every case that’s solved takes a criminal off the streets. That’s important to me and to everyone who lives here.”
“Guess there’s nothing I can say to stop you.” Kane shook his head in defeat. “But Rafa, please remember this. I insist on fitting into your life somewhere—somewhere important to both of us. And remember that right this minute a killer who might harm either one of us walks free on the streets of this island. Also remember that anyone officially or unofficially trying to nab that guy could be the next person on his hit list.”
“I’ll remember all those things. I’m well aware of them.”
“So where do you intend to start your investigation? I want to help you if I can.”
“Thanks, Kane. I appreciate that, and I’ll call on you for help any time I need it.”
“That sounds like my exit line.” Kane grinned and we left the balcony, carrying our salad dishes to the dishwasher before he headed for the door and the elevator. “I’ll walk to The Buccaneer. Need to rest awhile before I get ready for our night at The Frangi. Okay?”
“You could rest here. Bed’s made up.”
Kane patted my fanny. “Too many distractions here. I think we both need to rest—really rest.”
“Okay, if you insist.” Reluctantly, I followed him to the door. We shared another kiss before he stepped onto the elevator. Closing the door to my suite, I was headed for the shower when I thought I heard someone call to me. I turned to see if Kane had forgotten something.
Before I reached the door, I heard my name again.
“Rafa? Rafa blue?”
The sound came from outside my suite and I hurried to the balcony entrance, listening. Then, hearing nothing more, I stepped onto the balcony and peered over the railing at the revelers in the pool. I saw nobody I recognized. I had started to lean farther over the railing to peer directly below when I heard an ominous creaking and grating. I gasped when I felt the railing sway.
It took me seconds to realize the scream came from my own throat. Clutching at air I felt myself falling.
Chapter 13
(Still Sunday Afternoon)
I felt a wild fling through space before something jerked me to a stop. Every joint in my body ached. I thought my neck might be broken and I lay there dazed and hurting. I wiggled my fingers first, glad they still worked. And then my toes. They worked, too. No broken neck. That was first aid information Gram had taught me in my childhood, because I was the tomboy of the family, prone to taking falls—especially when I was staying at her home on Big Pine.
“Rafa! Rafa!”
Now I recognized Kane’s voice. Very different from the voice I’d heard shouting my name before my fall. Lower. More authoritative. But where was he? I welcomed hearing his voice and knowing he was near, but I had no strength to raise my head and look for him. No strength to answer him.
It took me several moments more to realize that a pile of sheets on the slightly protruding balcony of the hotel’s laundry room below my penthouse balcony had broken my fall—maybe saved my life. In moments a Cuban laundry worker ran toward me, shock and fear etched onto her face.
“Senorita! Senorita Blue.” Perspiration dampened her forehead when she pushed her dark bangs to the side, her hands trembling.
Her nametag identified her as Maria. She babbled at me in Spanish, trying to lift chunks of plaster and iron spikes from where they lay on and around me. Grabbing my hand, she tried to ease me from under the debris.
“Gracias. Gracias.” Using my limited Spanish vocabulary, I punctuated the words with what I hoped was a smile. By the time I managed to pull myself to an upright position on the pile of sheets, someone in the hallway began pounding on the laundry room door.
“Rafa! Rafa!” Kane shouted. “Tell that woman to let me in there. Now. Now.” He continued to pound. “Rafa? Rafa?”
Growing even more round-eyed and open-mouthed, Maria ran to the door and admitted Kane into the steamy room. The commercial-size washers and dryers were doing their best to overcome the work of the A/C.
“Rafa! Are you okay? Can you stand?” Kane reached toward me. The touch of his strong hand encouraged me to cooperate with his effort to pull me to my feet. “What happened? What happened? Can you tell me what happened?”
For several moments I said nothing, concentrating on walking and getting out of the laundry room.
“Gracias, Maria. Gracias.” Kane reached into his pocket, pulled out a bill and thrust it into her hand.”
Gracias, Senor.” She babbled more Spanish which we could only respond to with smiles as I limped painfully to the elevator.
“What happened, Rafa? Shall I call 9-1-1? A doctor?”
“No 9-1-1, Kane! Don’t you dare. I’m over the worst shock of my fall and I’ll be fine in a few moments. The 9-1-1 guys don’t need to hear from me two days in a row.”
“Then how about calling your doctor or reporting to the ER? Doctors are on duty there twenty-four seven.”
“I’m feeling better already. Relax, okay?” In spite of my optimistic words, I clung to Kane’s arm and he inched toward the elevator, accommodating his pace to mine.
When we arrived at my suite, I followed Kane inside and then eased onto the sofa. He rushed to the refrig, rattled cubes into a glass, and then poured me some tea. Before I could take a drink, he dashed onto the balcony, stopping abruptly when he saw the bent and broken railing.
“How did this happen, Rafa? We were on this balcony only a few minutes ago.” He squatted to examine the balcony floor and the few railings that remained intact. “You must have leaned with a lot of force against these spindles to break them. What on this earth were you trying to do?”
“I’ll admit I was leaning over the railing a lot farther than usual. I thought the call might have come from someone below me, someone out of my sight. But I didn’t lean hard enough to break wrought iron spindles and cause them to crash down.”
“The call? What were you doing the moment before the crash?”
“I thought I heard someone calling my name from the pool area. At first I thought it might be you, that you’d forgotten something.”
“Not I! Did you see anyone at the pool you recognized?”
Feeling stronger, I set my tea glass on the coffee table a
nd joined Kane at the edge of the balcony, keeping far back from the damaged railing.
“Take care, Kane. More of the railing may break off. You’re very close to the edge. I need to call a maintenance person before there’s another accident.”
“Rafa?”
“What is it, Kane? You see something special in the rubble?” I hesitated before inching another step closer.
“I’m not so sure your fall was an accident. Think carefully. You saw nobody below that you recognized?”
I stepped back into the safety of my suite, far from the break in the balcony railing. “So many people crowded the pool and surrounding patio that I couldn’t focus on each one. The kids were playing volleyball in the shallow water, splashing and yelling and batting at the ball. Most of the adults were relaxing on chase lounges and sipping drinks. I saw nobody I could recognize from up here.”
“Before you call Maintenance, I think you should call the police.”
“And have them come tromping into my suite? I don’t think so. Give me a break, Kane! It’s been a long, long day. We’ve had enough interaction with the police. And we still have the evening to face in The Frangi.”
“Humor me, Rafa. You say you want to investigate Diego’s death, right?”
“Right. I want to investigate without the help of the police. I want to investigate slowly—at my own pace.”
“But right now, you need the police to see this latest scene. Let them decide whether or not it was an accident or a scene more carefully planned. You’re a person of interest, remember? We’re both persons of interest. I think the police will want to know about this so-called accident.”
Much as I hated to, I saw Kane’s point. If the balcony scene hadn’t been an accident I needed to know the truth of it. If I was a target, I needed to be aware of that fact and be prepared to protect myself—if I could.
“You want to call, Kane? Or should I?”
“You call. The accident happened on your property. I don’t want any more police activity in my life if I can prevent it. But I’ll stay here to give you moral support while you deal with the officers and their questions.”
“Okay. And thanks. I’ll call Detective Lyon. If he wants Ramsey in on it, he can decide that.”
I made the call, and while we waited for Lyon to arrive, I changed from my ripped jeans and shirt and flung them into the hamper. After tugging a brush through my hair and applying a touch of lip gloss, I felt up to facing whatever came next. I suppose I knew all along that both Lyon and Ramsey would arrive. And they did. They brought a photographer with them. I told them the same story I told Kane. They both took notes. The photographer took at least a jillion pictures before they all started to leave.
“Miss Blue,” Chief Ramsey said, peering directly into my eyes. “Do you feel that you’re in danger?”
“No, Sir. I think this was a freak accident. I’ll call a maintenance person and have the rail repaired either today or first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Good idea.” Ramsey thrust his notebook into his jacket pocket.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you over nothing.”
“One never knows when something is nothing or when something is something. No apologies needed. I’m pleased that you called. My officers will give you and The Blue Mermaid some extra attention for the next few days.”
“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your interest.” I felt guilty at that lie. I wanted no special attention from the police.
Chapter 14
(Still Sunday Late Afternoon)
After the police left, I sat on the couch for a few minutes, resting and trying to avoid wondering if my fall had been an accident or if someone had planned it and I had stepped into a trap.
“Want a ride to your boat?” I asked Kane at last. “I’ve some errands to do and The Buccaneer’s right on my way.”
“I could walk to the dock, but if you feel up to driving, I might as well ride. Mama G can get in to The Frangi if she decides to bring tonight’s sandwich things over, can’t she?”
“Yes. Mother gave her a key. And if Dolly arrives while I’m gone she has a key, too. Anyway, I won’t be away long.”
I closed and locked the glass sliding door between my living room and the balcony and we took the elevator to my car. After I let Kane out near his boat, he didn’t question me about where I planned to go from there. Thank goodness. I wasn’t really sure of the answer myself. I still felt shaky and queasy from my fall. I watched until Kane stepped over the gunwale, waved him a farewell, and headed for Duval Street before I turned toward the police station.
For a few moments after parking in a visitor’s slot, I sat behind the wheel, planning my strategy. If I were to investigate Diego’s murder, one of the first things I needed was a piece of the blue cord the police found binding his feet. I needed that for starters. Other needs could come later.
I opened the car door, startled to see Chief Ramsey exiting the station. We saw each other at the same time and he walked toward me. If my presence surprised him, he didn’t show it.
“Miss Blue, are you returning to talk with me? Perhaps you’ve thought of something else that might be of interest to the police?”
“Sir, I have a favor to ask.”
“Then, let’s go inside where we can talk in private.”
And that’s what we did. Once the chief unlocked his office door, we entered, and I saw the box of evidence still under his desk.
“Sit down, please. I hope you’ve recovered from your fall.”
“Thank you, Sir. This won’t take long. I’ve come to ask you for a small piece of the blue line you found at the death scene.”
“A strange request, I must say.” Ramsey seated himself behind his desk. He said nothing more, and I guessed he was using one of my favorite tactics when interviewing a subject for a column. Silence. Let the other person break it. Ramsey asked no question, so I made no response. Sometimes keeping silent is much more difficult than speaking. It’s a hard thing to do. During awkward moments of quiet, a nervous person tends to speak. I wasn’t that nervous, and when I didn’t oblige the chief by breaking the silence, he waited for several moments before he spoke.
“What are your plans for the line, Miss Blue? I find your request a strange one.”
“Chief, I’d like to play at least a small a part in finding Diego’s killer. He was a friend who had done me many favors in the past, a friend I’d intended to feature in my weekly column. Someone got that blue line from somewhere, true?”
“Of course.”
“I’d like to learn where it came from. Almost every marina and tackle shop carries many varieties of nautical line. I’d like to make a covert check on shops carrying that blue variety.”
“What makes you think it’s special, Miss Blue?”
Nonplussed, I hesitated for a moment. I couldn’t tell him I saw line similar to it on Kane’s boat this morning.
“I think it’s special because, well, for one reason, because of its color. I’ve not been around a lot of nautical line, but I’ve helped Mother and Gram with their boats and boating supplies from time to time. I’ve never seen that shade of blue rope before. If you’ll lend me a snippet of it, I can save you and your men some time and lots of legwork.”
“In what way?”
“By visiting the local chandleries and looking at the various kinds of line they carry. Just an interested buyer, that’s all I’d be. And wherever I find similar line, I’ll let you know the name of that store. Knowing where the line came from would surely be a starting point in finding who bought it, when they bought it, why they bought it. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, I consider that a good starting point, but although the department’s shorthanded, I don’t want an ordinary citizen working on this case. That could cause too many problems.”
“Sir, I’d keep our agreement a secret. A policeman approaching shop owners and asking about the line would alert the owners that something was up. But I’d just be an ord
inary citizen searching for craft material to make a wall hanging.”
Chief Ramsey twisted in his chair. I won’t go so far as to say he squirmed, but he came close to squirming before he spoke again.
“All right, Miss Blue. I’ll let you check out a segment of the line as long as you’re willing to sign a release that indicates this evidence is in your possession.”
“And when I return the evidence, you’ll return the release with your signature?”
“That is correct.”
“Agreed. May I take the line with me now?”
With only a nod of consent, Ramsey pulled a printed form from his desk drawer, filled in some blanks on it, and shoved it toward me along with a ballpoint. I signed the form, and he placed it in a folder, securing the folder in the gray steel file behind his desk. He then pulled the evidence box from beneath his desk, snipped off a piece of line about 6 inches long, tucked it into a manila envelope, and sealed it before releasing it into my possession.
“Thank you, Sir. I’ll get back to you about this after I’ve had time to visit some nautical shops and ask a few questions.”
“I’ll expect to hear from you soon. After twenty-four hours a trail grows cold. Time is of an essence.”
His tone and a nod dismissed me, and when I left his office, he stood puttering with the contents of the evidence box. Once in my car, I drove to Chitting Marina first because it was close by. Would Ramsey follow me? Some careful glances in my rear-view mirror showed no evidence of that.
At Chitting’s, I parked in the graveled customer’s area. After I pulled the snippet of line from the manila envelope and tucked it into the pocket of my slacks, I left my car. I crossed a planked dock where incoming waves splashed against an array of boats tethered in their slips. A pelican perched on a pine piling hunched forward as if starting to fly, then changed its mind and resettled on the piling. I entered the chandlery and headed for the business desk. In the distance someone worked with a jackhammer.
The smell of hotdogs turning on a small grill beside the cash register blotted out the stench of gasoline and diesel fuel. My mouth watered even though Kane and I had eaten only a short time ago. In moments the sound of the jackhammer ceased.
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