I could only stare at him. I’d never seen this man when I was a child. How could he know about the secrets I’d revealed to no one? Not even my parents or my grandmother knew the details of the moments I’d spent with Mike Wilson. And certainly not the doctor who placed my feet in cold steel stirrups, spread my knees and asked a million questions as he prodded and probed at my private parts. I’d kept the intimate details of my moments with Mike Wilson a secret. My secret.
“I’d never seen you before in all my life, Brick Vexton. I met you casually at a friend of my parents just before I left home to go abroad to college.” Maybe the blow on his head had addled him. But here was something he wanted to talk about—a subject that inflated his ego. I’d keep him talking as long as I could, no matter how painful the subject.
“But you do remember Mike Wilson, don’t you, Rafa? I won’t release you into sweet death until you tell me you do remember Mike Wilson. Remember those brown eyes? Remember his sable-colored hair? Back then, many women told me my hair felt more like a silky pelt than real hair. Did you feel that way about it?”
“Why do you think you can convince me you’re someone named Mike Wilson? Okay. So I’ll admit I once knew a guy named Mike Wilson.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He jerked on his arm, making the cuff on my wrist cut into flesh, bringing tears to my eyes. “Of course you knew Mike Wilson.”
“But you look nothing like the Mike Wilson I knew. Nothing at all. And your name? You’re trying to tell me that the guy I knew as Mike Wilson of Miami is now Brick Vexton of Key West? You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s simple for anyone to change his name. A person can do it upon request. Sometimes divorcees prefer to delete their married name from their lives and their memories and return to using their maiden names. No problem. Sometimes people hate their given names—and for good reason. What if Scarlet O’Hara had been named Pansy? Names make a difference.”
“Scarlet and Pansy were potential characters in a novel. Easy enough for the author to click a few computer keys and change their names. But how did you go about changing your name?” I hoped that question would keep him talking a few more minutes. Bisque coloring now crept into the eastern sky. Maybe I could keep Brick talking until sunrise.
“Changing my name took a little money for fees here and there. But I had lots of money—the Mariel Boatlift, you know. The name change took some trips to a lawyer’s office, then more trips to the courthouse and to a judge’s chambers. But at last my birth certificate read Brick Vexton.”
“You went to all that trouble to keep me from finding you again. You thought I’d come searching for you?”
“I thought it a strong possibility, not that I wanted to hide from you. You were very good in bed. That’s a good thing in a woman—any woman.”
“So you could and did change your name, but what about your looks? The blue eyes, for instance? Mike Wilson’s eyes were brown.”
“Contacts. I dislike wearing them, but someday I may remove them and tell anyone inquiring that I’m wearing blue contacts. Don’t know why that might not work. Should have tried it long ago. What do you think?”
“The sable pelt? Tell me about that.”
“At first I shaved my head and grew the moustache and beard. Then age took care of the hair problem. I’m probably the first male in the world who welcomed baldness. The beard, however, is natural. I think it lends me a lot of dignity.”
Now and then I heard a car passing on the street below the marina. I willed some driver to come to the chandlery. Clouds began to cover the sliver of sun peeking above the horizon, but they would soon burn off. Now I remembered that yesterday’s weather forecast mentioned sunshine and temperatures in the eighties.
“Brick Vexton.” I tried to ease away from him, but he jerked me back to his side. “How did you choose a new name? Did you have to find a name the courts and the judge approved, or could you pick any name you wanted.”
“I could choose and I chose Brick Vexton.”
“Why?”
“Several reasons, Rafa. Brick has a strong sound. Don’t you agree? The word Brick leaves a strong picture in a person’s mind.”
“And you wanted to appear strong. Right?”
“Right.”
“Vexton? Where did that name come from? Ancestors?”
Brick laughed. “People are strange, Rafa. Certain words call up taboo subjects. Any name with an x in it, calls up the word sex. Vex, sex. You get the connection. I consider Vexton an attractive name, sexy, steamy.” I felt myself running out of questions, but I grabbed a deep breath and kept talking. “So returning to Key West disguised as Brick Vexton made you a new person. But why was that change so important to you? Did you think I’d fall for you again in your new disguise? Guess you’ve learned by now you failed.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I grew up in Key West and I wanted to live here again.”
“So you are living here. I see no problem with that.”
“I had a deep fear that one day you might recognize me, perhaps by my voice. But that proved to be no real problem. Maybe voices change over the years, too. But I had no real problem with my disguise until you and Threnody started poking around at Marathon, looking up and questioning Snipe Gross.”
We were talking in circles. We’d been over this before, but I had everything to gain by talking and nothing to lose—except my life.
“What could Snipe Gross have told us that would send so much fear into you? That would make you so uneasy you had to murder Threnody?”
Brick hesitated so long before answering that I thought he might refuse to talk any longer. I prodded him with another question. “What did you think Snipe Gross might reveal to us?”
Brick remained silent.
“Did you think Capt. Gross might reveal that you murdered Diego?”
Brick’s laugh sounded more hollow than before. “No, Snipe had no way of knowing that.”
“So what did he know that threatened you?”
“He knew my real name.”
“Mike Wilson? That knowledge could endanger you?”
“He knew my original name.”
I heard a siren wailing somewhere in the distance. How I wished I had a way of signaling that cop car to drive by the marina.
“Wishing you could call that cop up here, aren’t you?” Brick asked, reading my mind.
“I won’t lie to you. Yes. I wish the police would come, would find you here, would find Threnody’s body, would find you threatening me.”
“Well that’s unlikely to happen. In a few short moments you will join Threnody and Diego in eternity.”
“Eternity. Nothing I can do to hurt you from there. So what will it matter now if you tell me your birth certificate name? You’re a clever person, Brick Vexton, Mike Wilson, or whoever or whatever else your original birth certificate says.”
Again, he hesitated. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jumpsuit and when he looked at me his eyes glazed. He sat down on the catwalk pulling me down with him. I squelched a scream as the handcuff cut more deeply into my wrist.
Chapter 42
“Brick, you’d feel more comfortable if you’d unlock the cuff. There’s no reason to keep us bound together in this painful way.”
“You mean you’d feel more comfortable without the cuff. Forget that. I’m not about to release it and let you make a bolt for freedom. Not that I couldn’t bring you down with one shot. Think die, Rafa Blue. Your time is up.”
“Be real. Please unlock the handcuff. How could I run away with you holding me at gunpoint?” I squirmed in my cramped position. With my leg hurting and bleeding, I doubted I could muster the strength to rise and run. Pain shot through my arm when I pulled on the handcuff, but pain must be coursing through Brick’s arm, too. I gritted my teeth.
“Your birth certificate name, Brick. Who are you? Are you sure you really know who you are?”
“It’s a secret I’ve kept for over two de
cades.”
“So tell me now your real name so I’ll know how smart you’ve been—how brilliant. I can understand why you’re so proud of yourself. Not many people could have kept a secret that long.”
“Reach into my shirt pocket and pull out the key to the cuffs. You may be right about our being more comfortable without them.”
Hope soared. I found the key and held it where he could see it.
“So unlock the cuffs.” He held the gun aimed at my heart. He lifted his wrist, and mine so I could find the lock, insert the key, turn it. He pulled his wrist free first and I let my hand fall to my side before I struggled to free myself from the steely grip.
Pain stabbed my arm from my fingertips and wrist to my shoulder when the cuffs came loose and clanked to the catwalk. We both heaved sighs of relief. I wanted to shove the cuffs into the sea so he would have no chance to use them again, but that might arouse his anger. I left them where they fell. I struggled to stand, hoping he might rise, too, and help me to my feet. He remained seated and prodded me with the gun.
“Stay where you are and I’ll let you live a few more minutes. How cool will that be!”
I remained seated beside him.
“Bucky Varnum.”
At first I didn’t realize he meant Bucky Varnum was his real name. But then I remembered Kane telling me about Bucky Varnum—the Mariel water taxi captain.
“Bucky Varnum.” I repeated the name, giving myself a few moments to think, to plan what to do next.
“Clever, don’t you think? Bucky Varnum. B.V. I kept my original initials. Thought I might need them some day when I returned to Key West.”
“If you liked this rock so much, why did you leave?” I tried to ease away from him. He didn’t prod me with the gun, but he lifted its barrel as if to take a better aim. I sat still.
“Didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to leave at all.”
“So why’d you go? You were rich, rich, rich. Kane told me you made millions running a water taxi between Key West and Cuba.”
In dawn’s growing light, I saw Brick smile. “Right. Few shrimpers controlled as much money as I did. I deposited my take in many banks throughout the Keys. Wanted nobody to know the extent of my wealth.”
“Okay, so you had it made. You were set for life. Smart guy. So what happened to all that money?”
“Wealth’s a hard thing to keep secret. Truth leaked out. Gossip and rumor made my wealth expand with each telling.”
“So that made you Mr. Important. At least Mr. Important to those who knew you on the shrimp docks.”
Brick gave a short derisive laugh. “Not just the shrimp docks. Throughout the island, people called me a big shot. Called me that behind my back. Called me that to my face.”
“And how cool was that!” I repeated his favorite phrase, hoping he heard my touch of sarcasm.
Not many shrimpers could afford to live high on the hog. Or should I say high on the shrimp shell. Most of them worked hard to eke out a living.”
“So you were king. What happened?”
“Jealousy. Jealousy rides the tail of gossip. Island folk began to resent not only my wealth, but the way that I’d made it—no, not made it, earned it. Island loudmouths said I’d earned my wealth on the backs of helpless Cubans—refugees.”
“Refugees like Diego?”
“There were thousands of them—all wanting to escape from under Castro’s thumb.”
“And you gave up your successful shrimping business to help those poor people to a better life.”
“Right. I did those people a big favor. And they did me a favor, too. A big, big favor.”
“What favor did those poor people do for you?” Keep him talking.
“One day when we were waiting for the tide to change, they took me to Daiquiri.”
Good. I had him rattled. “Took you to Daiquiri. Tell me about it.”
“Yesh, they took me to Daiquiri, Cuba. A tiny village. Villagers were known for their daiquiris. At least that’s the story they told me. Rum. Lime juice. Sugar. My favorite drink. Later, I named my dock after that drink to thank the thousands I took to Key West. Very lucky for them. They might have been trapped in Cuba with no freedom at all.”
“Did you think that some of them might be criminals? Did you ask yourself if any of them might be mentally deranged?”
“Watch your mouth, woman! You hinting that I might have brought bad people here?”
“That’s what President Carter realized—too late to do much about it.”
“The Cubans I hauled felt nothing but grateful. I only charged two thousand a person. Could have squeezed them for three, if I’d put a little pressure on.”
“I’m not surprised that the locals here on the island wanted you off the rock. But what did it matter to you. You created your own realm in Miami, right? For a while Mike Wilson was king.”
“Right. He was—until you caused a problem that ruined that name and my marriage. But later, I was a little wiser in my name choice. When I returned to Key West, everyone had forgotten about Bucky Varnum and the Mariel Boatlift.”
“So you changed your name again, married Threnody, opened a marina, and the rest is history.”
“And I’m proud of it, very proud.”
“Is that old ship’s bell for sale, Brick? I told you before I’d love to buy it for Kane. It really belongs in its rightful place on The Buccaneer. In fact, now that Kane’s opened his boat as a floating monument, a historical monument honoring Key West’s former shrimping business, he may want to change the boat’s name back to its original name.”
“No. The bell isn’t for sale. At least not to Kane Riley.” Brick surprised me by standing. “Up, woman. Up. Need to see that Threnody’s still in place before I take you to a more secret spot and help you join her in death. Get up! Now!”
When I tried to stand, my head whirled. Maybe I’d lost too much blood. Bracing my uninjured hand on a dew-damp catwalk board, I pushed myself up until I stood beside Brick. He prodded me with the gun and we both stood looking down at Threnody’s head bobbing under the surface of the water.
I wanted to vomit again, but nothing remained in my stomach. I gagged and shuddered while dry heaves wracked my body. It took me a few moments to realize I no longer felt the pressure of Brick’s gun on my side. I hadn’t heard him fall, but when I turned to look at him, he lay sprawled on the catwalk by my feet.
Run! Run! I tried to run, but I had no strength left. At first, I thought Brick had fainted. Closer inspection told me he was no longer breathing. Was he dead? Had the fishing lure’s blow to his head felled him at last? Elation made me want to jump at this chance to escape. But I couldn’t move. Instead, I dropped down beside him. I grabbed the gun from his hand, clutching it so he couldn’t take it from me if he rose up in anger.
Dead? At least he lay there immobile. When I’d pulled the handcuff key from his shirt pocket, I’d felt his cell phone. Laying the gun on the catwalk as far from Brick’s body as I could reach, I forced myself to fumble into that pocket again and grab the cell.
I punched in 9-1-1. When the dispatcher’s voice answered and began asking questions, I said, ‘Daiquiri Dock Marina’ and closed the cell before I keyed Kane’s number.
“Rafa! What’s up? Where are you?”
“I’m at Daiquiri Dock, and I may have killed a man.”
Chapter 43
“Rafa!” Kane shouted into my ear. “What makes you think you’ve killed someone?”
“Brick’s lying here beside me on the catwalk. I’m not sure, but I don’t think he’s breathing.”
“You call the police?”
“Right, I did.”
“When they get there, don’t tell them a thing. Don’t say a word. Don’t answer any of their questions. I’m coming. I’ll bring a lawyer. Don’t say a word until you have a lawyer at your side to advise you. Learned that on Law and Order.”
Kane closed his cell, and I sat holding Brick’s phone, unable to bear the thou
ght of touching him, of slipping it back into his pocket. Instead, I picked up his gun, still afraid he might rise and spring into action. Maybe I’d won only a short reprieve.
The police arrived first with lights flashing, sirens wailing. Then an ambulance. Then a fire truck. I didn’t call out, and it took the officers a few moments to find me—and Brick—on the middle of the catwalk. From a distance I recognized Chief Ramsey and Detective Lyon. Lyon ran down the catwalk toward me. Ramsey held the safety line and plodded toward me at a slower pace.
“Rafa Blue!” Lyon exclaimed. “Are you all right? What’s happened here?”
Pulling my knees to my chin, I remained seated, turned my face away from him, and rested my head on my knees. I followed Kane’s advice and said nothing.
“Miss Blue.” Ramsey spoke in monosyllables without raising his voice. “Miss Blue, please tell us what has happened here?”
I didn’t reply.
Lyon hunkered down on the catwalk beside me. “Rafa, please. This is an official call that you instigated. Answer our questions.”
When I refused to reply, Lyon rose to his full height. He and Ramsey began talking to each other. They didn’t look into the water and see Threnody. What if they looked in a few seconds and thought I killed both Brick and Threnody? And Diego.
Lyon pulled a ballpoint from his pocket, eased it into the gun barrel, and lifted the weapon, dropping it into a plastic bag he pulled from his other pocket. Both men studied the gun and then looked down at me. Lyon sniffed at the gun but made no comment.
“Don’t touch anything else until the M.E. arrives,” Ramsey ordered.
The medical examiner arrived, stopping in front of the chandlery at the same time Kane pulled up, stopping his truck beside the M.E. By craning my neck, I could see a man dressed in pajamas and a robe step from the truck. The lawyer? Why did I want to laugh?
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