A Sporting Murder

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A Sporting Murder Page 6

by Lesley A. Diehl


  “There she is,” he said, pointing to me, “the woman who helped me take down those bad guys.”

  In the distance I heard the airboat. As Sammy turned the boat toward the landing I could see it was full. Something was going on. Business was booming.

  The women waiting to take the tour turned their attention to the boat’s arrival. I overheard one of them say to another, “Wow, he’s even more handsome than we heard. Look at those muscles.”

  Grandfather Egret came out from behind the counter.

  “What’s going on here? I couldn’t get through to Sammy’s cell, and it looks as if you’re chock-a-block full with customers,” I said.

  “It’s your doing. You sent us that group of women from the coast yesterday, and word has spread through West Palm, it seems. We’re all the rage with your wealthy lady friends.” Grandfather’s impish smile said he liked being surrounded by all these women as much as he liked taking their money for tickets.

  Grandfather addressed the waiting customers. “If you’ll just step to one side and let them off the boat, you can find your seats, and we’ll be off again.” He directed them down the path toward the landing, where Sammy was refueling the boat. Sammy looked up and saw me and waved. He set the gas cans down and started up the path. When he got to where I stood, he put his arms around me and hugged me close. The women watching swooned in envy, and I almost lost my footing as he lifted me off the ground and spun me around. Wow.

  “I haven’t seen you much lately.” He set me back on my feet and held me at arm’s length. “You look good.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?” asked one of the women.

  Before I could answer, Sammy nodded.

  “Sammy,” I said so only he could hear. “What are you saying?”

  “You could be my girlfriend, you know.” He gave me a roguish grin.

  “Alex might protest.”

  “Yeah, but he’s not my worry. You are.”

  Sammy was in a mood I’d never seen before—flirtatious, something I didn’t know he did.

  “What’s got into you?” I asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He looked around him, at the sky and then the river beyond the landing. “It’s a beautiful day, and I’ve got more customers than I can handle.”

  “Oh, I get it. All this money is making you horny.”

  The words had leaped out of my mouth. It was the kind of sassy, sexual teasing I might say to some of my cowboy friends from the Burnt Biscuit, but I’d always been careful around Sammy. We’d spent a night alone in the swamps, and had never talked about the feelings that had developed out there. It seemed to make us both self-conscious. Besides, Alex and I were a couple.

  “Sorry, Sammy. I didn’t mean that.”

  He gave me one of his soul-searching looks. “Didn’t you? Too bad for me.”

  Both of us stared at the ground; then the uncomfortable moment passed. Sammy broke the spell.

  “Well, you did us right, woman. Sending all these folks our way. I may be able to buy a new shirt for the first time in five years.”

  “Keep that one. It looks great.” I liked Sammy’s understated handsome looks and rugged style—the faded pink and turquoise Miccosukee-pattern long-sleeved shirt, which pulled tightly across his broad chest, and the jeans bleached almost white from too many washings. The clothes did not make the man. Not in this case, anyway. This man—tall, dark-skinned, with long black hair—made the clothes. On anyone else they would just look worn. On him, they looked like a very attractive second skin.

  “So if there’s anything I can do to repay you, let me know,” he said.

  Boy, was this easy. “As a matter of fact, there is. Can you help Madeleine and me move out of our shop?” I explained to him about the loss of our lease, David’s arrest, and Alex’s job in Miami.

  “So I’m what, third best in your choice of movers?” His black eyes twinkled with good humor.

  “Yeah, something like that.” Good. Sammy and I were once more on familiar, friends-only footing. I was relieved and he seemed to be at ease as well, the earlier discomfort gone.

  “And before you get a big head, I wondered if you could bring along some of your good-looking cousins to help out. We can’t afford to pay them, but we could provide pizza and beer afterward.”

  “You know you’re not supposed to give firewater to Indians,” he said. Yep, Sammy was in a good mood.

  “When are you free?” If all this activity continued, Sammy might not be able to help us for a while.

  “It will have to be tomorrow evening. I can’t do it during the day, as you can see, and I’ve got tribal meetings the rest of the week. You say you have to be out by Saturday?”

  I nodded.

  “Where are you moving to?” he asked.

  I had no idea.

  I returned to the shop with our sandwiches. Madeleine, having dined on her thumbs and fingernails, ate only a little of hers. I put it in the fridge for a snack later. We agreed that she would attend David’s hearing while I kept the shop open. We couldn’t afford to close the shop and lose a half day of revenue, not when we might have a drought in income coming soon.

  Several customers came into the shop, not to buy but to check on the rumor that our store was being taken over by another owner. I set them straight on that matter, but when they asked where our new location would be, I couldn’t tell them anything. We were going to lose customers before we even closed down. We had to find a place and soon. I could apply for all the loans I wanted, but until they came through, we were in danger of losing the momentum and clientele we’d gained in the past year. I hated to think that this could be the end of Madeleine’s and my business together.

  I had Sammy and his cousins lined up to help us move our merchandise, but no place to move it to. We were screwed.

  The bell on the shop door rang. I looked up and groaned to see my ex, Jerry. But then my mood lifted. Right behind him walked Mr. Napolitani.

  “Nappi! Oh, it’s so good to see you.”

  He wrapped me in the scent of expensive male cologne and a more expensive silk suit as he hugged me to him. Today wasn’t so bad, I thought to myself. I’d been hugged by two very sexy men—first Sammy, now Nappi. The anxiety over the shop must have been getting to me. All I seemed to think about other than my business was sexy men. I wished Alex wasn’t gone this week.

  “How are things, Evie?” No one ever called me Evie except for Jerry, and I hated it when he did. I gritted my teeth and tried not to growl out loud at him. I was wrong. Not all the men today were sexy. There was Jerry, whom I once thought sexy but now only considered annoying.

  “Don’t call me—” I began.

  “Sorry, babe,” Jerry said.

  “Or babe.”

  “Sorry.” Jerry would have said something else equally aggravating I was certain, but Nappi placed his hand on my ex’s shoulder and squeezed. Jerry’s face turned a color between green and puke.

  “I hear things are difficult around here.” Nappi perused the shop as if the merchandise might be creating problems for me.

  “We’re having some ups and downs,” I said.

  He gave me a look that seemed to penetrate my brain.

  So I told him everything. How could I not? Dealing with Nappi Napolitani was like taking truth serum. You couldn’t leave anything out.

  He was silent for a moment.

  “Hmmm. I could float you a loan.”

  “We’re getting a loan from the small business administration. I think.”

  “That takes time. Until then, where will you operate?”

  “From my living room, maybe?”

  Nappi smiled. “You’re not zoned commercial, are you?”

  “No. I guess we could rent space at the weekend flea market.”

  “Limited income.”

  We both nodded.

  “My loan would come through today. No waiting for paperwork to go through,” Nappi said.

  “I know, but ….” I shrugged.
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br />   “Madeleine doesn’t like the idea of mob money,” he said. Nappi looked hurt for a second, then recovered. “I have an idea.”

  Before Nappi could spell out his idea, Madeleine rushed into the shop. Her face was blotchy from crying. She threw herself into my arms, almost knocking me over.

  She could barely speak but managed to get out the bad news between sobs. “No bail. David’s been charged with first degree murder.”

  Chapter 8

  “First degree murder? Why?” I was stunned by Madeleine’s pronouncement.

  Nappi and Jerry got her a chair, and I rushed for the bathroom and a glass of water. As I filled the glass, I wondered why water was considered such a comfort. What did it do, really?

  “Here. Drink this.” I held it out to her as if I thought it would erase all her troubles.

  She sipped at it and seemed to recover her composure. “David admitted to fighting with his client—”

  I didn’t let her finish. “He shouldn’t have admitted to anything. He should have kept his mouth shut. If he’d had a lawyer with him, he would have known that.”

  Madeleine gave me a look filled with frustration. “Do you want to hear this or give your paralegal critique?”

  “Sorry.” I waved my hand to signal her to go on with her story.

  “They argued about the oryx, and then David followed the client as he stalked the animal. According to the DA, that gave him enough time to plan out what he was going to do. Premeditation. And because David has no family here, he’s considered a flight risk.”

  “His ex-wife is on the coast, not far from here.” I was offering a weak argument, and I knew it.

  “They allowed me some time with him after the hearing. He’d like you to get in touch with Alex. David thinks someone is setting him up to take the blame for the murder, and he wants Alex to do some PI work for him.”

  “I can’t believe Frida would think David did this.”

  Madeleine shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. “It isn’t about what Frida believes, according to David’s lawyer. It’s what the DA can prove. Do you think Alex can help him?” Madeleine’s voice was quavery, and I was certain she was about to lose control again, but she took a deep breath, looked at Jerry and Nappi and shifted gears.

  “Eve didn’t make any deals with you about this shop, did she?”

  “Madeleine, how could you think I’d go against your wishes? See here. I’ve been working on the loan application.” I moved the laptop screen around so she could see the form.

  Nappi took Madeleine’s hand in his. “Eve wouldn’t betray you. But there is the problem of what you’re going to do with the store contents until the loan comes through. You’re at a critical point in your business.”

  She looked up at him with curiosity in her innocent blue eyes.

  “I think I can help.” He held up his hand to prevent her from speaking. “Hear me out.” What he had to say wasn’t going to make everything perfect, but it went a long way toward repairing the damage and staving off complete business disaster.

  After he finished telling us his plan and before either of us could react to it, the phone rang. I was glad I was the one who answered it and not Madeleine.

  “It’s Elvira Reed. You know you must be out of the shop by Saturday. I’m picking up the keys at five, and I expect the place to be empty and clean by then.”

  Before I could deliver one of my clever and sassy replies, she hung up.

  Harassment, pure and simple. The bitch.

  Seeing the thunderclouds in my expression, Madeleine asked, “Who was that?”

  “Uh, it was our landlord reminding us we needed to be out by Saturday afternoon.”

  “We already know that. He’s harassing us. I should call Frida.” Madeleine reached out to grab the phone.

  “Let’s not do that now. You only think if you give Frida another case, it will take her mind off David. She’s a homicide detective, and unless we’re willing to kill someone, she’s not interested in us.” I’d goofed again. The minute the word “kill” was out of my mouth, I wanted to call it back. Madeleine’s eyes filled with tears, and her lips trembled.

  I sprang into action. There’s nothing like work to take your mind off murder. Well, there are other things too, like sex, food, dancing ….

  “We’ve got to get organized,” I said. “We need to get everything in here ready for our move. Sammy and his cousins will be here to help us, so no more boohooing.” I opened the laptop to make a list.

  “I can help too,” offered Jerry.

  No, no, no. The last thing I needed right now was Jerry to screw up everything. And he would too. The guy had a way of not getting anything right.

  Nappi interceded on my behalf. “Jerry, you have work to do for me. You bungled that real estate deal, and now you need to make it right.”

  See? Told you. Jerry messed up everything. Sometimes I wondered why Nappi kept him on. It had to be because Nappi’s daughter was still sweet on him.

  Jerry hung his head and didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

  “And it looks like I have work to do also. I will see you later.” Nappi took my hand and kissed it then did likewise with Madeleine.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I may have misjudged you.”

  That was quite a concession, for her. I couldn’t believe it wasn’t temporary—the outcome of her concern for David.

  On Thursday morning, Madeleine was in the backroom wrapping breakable items and boxing up lamps, jewelry, hats, scarves and other smaller pieces of merchandise. We’d put a sign in the window saying “We’re moving. But you can go with us.” Madeleine nixed the next line I wanted to use, which was “Find us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.” I thought it was cute, but Madeleine was so practical. She suggested we insert what details we knew of our move on the line below.

  Sammy slammed open the door around eleven in the morning, and from the look on his face, I knew what he had to say wouldn’t be good.

  “What’s wrong?” I reached out and touched Sammy’s arm and maneuvered him toward the dressing room area. I decided that Madeleine had more than enough bad news right now in her life, and I didn’t want her to hear Sammy’s.

  “My nephew, Bernard, the one who went to college in Orlando? He’s missing.”

  “Missing? For how long?”

  “His folks hadn’t heard from him this weekend. He usually calls. They waited until Monday morning and then put in a call to the college. He missed all his morning classes. His roommate said he left their room on Friday night and never returned. He thought Bernard went home for the weekend. He said Bernard was depressed over the grade he got on a math test and thought he might have wanted to spend time with his family. No one’s seen him since Friday around five. His car is gone too. Campus security says it’s nowhere on campus. He has a parking permit for one of the student lots near his residence hall and usually parks there.”

  “I’m so sorry. Do they have any leads?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Eve, but I need to get out there and search.”

  “Isn’t that the authorities’ job?”

  “They are less than interested in an Indian boy.”

  “You can’t mean that,” I said.

  “I do. If he were white, they’d be all over the place. But a poor Miccosukee …. Get real.”

  I sighed. I’d seen it before around here. Indians were second class citizens. The prejudice was subtle, but it was there.

  “Do you have any idea where he’s gone?” I asked.

  Sammy shuffled his feet back and forth and then looked up at me. In his eyes was fear and anger. “I have some ideas. Did you know that a number of farm workers have gone missing around here in the past few months?”

  “No.”

  “And you know Grandfather and I spotted the Hardy brothers, who used to own the other airboat business, travelling into the swamp with people on board then coming back out alone?”

  �
�But they’re in jail. And they were transporting illegal aliens. I thought the authorities put a stop to that.”

  “They put a stop to the Hardy brothers’ work, but there are others who would take their place. Anglos can’t tell an illegal alien from a Mexican farm worker from a Miccosukee college kid.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” I said.

  “It means that these people are disappearing for some reason. I intend to find out why. And I will find Bernard too.” He clapped his beat-up cowboy hat onto his head and started to leave.

  At the door, he stopped. “Sorry I can’t be here. I’ll send a couple of my cousins to help with the loading. Will tomorrow night work for you?”

  “Sure. Say, who’s going to run your airboat business meantime?”

  “Jerry said he’d help Grandfather.”

  Oh, just great.

  He pushed open the door and left before I could express my concerns.

  “His nephew is missing?” Madeleine stood in the doorway to the backroom.

  “I was hoping you weren’t listening. You really don’t need any more bad news.”

  “You get a hold of Alex yet?”

  “I left a message for him to call me. He didn’t get back last night or this morning. I think he had a late night doing surveillance and slept in this morning. He’ll get in touch soon. Don’t worry.”

  Madeleine swept the curls off her forehead with a sweaty hand. “Here’s more bad news. The air conditioner in the back room cut out, and it won’t go back on. We’ve probably overloaded the circuit somehow. That’s been happening often lately.”

  “What do we care? We’re moving,” I said.

  Madeleine and I looked at each other for a moment. Then we burst out laughing.

  “We’ll see how fast the landlord fixes it for Mrs. Reed. She might find it mighty hot moving in here.” I pictured all that makeup cascading off her face. That image made the work of moving our merchandise easier. I shared the vision with Madeleine, and she shared in my levity.

  We worked late Thursday evening to ready the shop for our departure.

  I looked at the shop clock. It read eight. “I’m starving. Let’s stop and get a pizza and take it to my place.” I wiped away the beads of sweat from my forehead.

 

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