Dead in the Water

by Lesley A. Diehl

  Chapter 11

  Alex drove me home, and I invited him to spend the night. We flung open the French doors that led from my bedroom onto the back deck. I loved to sit here at night, listening to the coyotes call when the train came through. We slipped into the chairs and held hands. The moon was brilliant, making sharp the shadows of the palms and live oaks in the far field.

  “Care for a nightcap? I’ve got Courvoisier,” I said.

  “I think all I need tonight is an evening with you. Alone.” Alex got up from his chair and stood in front of me, holding out his hands. “Let’s leave the doors open and let the night air into the bedroom.” He grabbed both my hands, and pulling me up into his embrace, he pressed his lips against mine. Lovely. The man could kiss, yes he could.

  We parted and headed toward the bed. I lay back on the pillows and patted the space next to me. “It’s been so long since we had time together. I’m sorry for all the interruptions.”

  “Me too. It’s not only you and your, er, unusual life. It’s also my job. I hate being out of the area for so long.” He rolled toward me and began another kiss, this one more passionate than the first. I was crazy about this guy. That’s why I wish I hadn’t fallen asleep before it ended, but damn, I was tired. Camping in the swamp does that to a gal.

  Coffee awaited me when I awoke. There was a note from Alex beside the pot: “Don’t beat yourself up about last night. I know you were exhausted. I didn’t even mind your snoring.”

  I took a sip of java and peeked at my watch. I had arranged to meet Nappi at my bank at ten this morning. It was almost that now. I grabbed a tee shirt and jeans out of my bureau and then spent some time scrambling around on the floor of my closet, looking for another pair of boots to wear. Another run-in with my furry slippers, which I flung over my shoulder and onto the bedroom floor. More time on my hands and knees searching in the dark, but no boots. I really needed to replace that burned out bulb. I grabbed a pair of sandals with open backs and three inch heels in coral leather. Damn. I looked at my tee and realized the fuchsia color did not go with the shoes. Should I check the closet floor once more or change the shirt? I changed the shirt to one in turquoise. I looked a little like a poster for the Florida Department of Tourism, but what the heck.

  Someone knocked on the front door.

  “Just a minute.” I gelled my hair, swiped mascara over my lashes, and looked in the mirror. The mascara was only one shade blacker than the dark circles under my eyes.

  “Where have you been?” Sophia said.

  “In the swamps, getting killed.”

  She looked puzzled for a moment, but then recovered enough to push me back into the house and slam the door behind us.

  “I need the money. Now. We’re being threatened.”

  “There have been some complications. There’s no money in Winston’s accounts.”

  “What? Where is it then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t want to give it to us. You don’t care about my sister. Winston cared, but you don’t.” She turned to go.

  “Wait. I want to talk to you.” I tried to grab her arm and explain, but Sophia interrupted.

  “There’s no waiting. No waiting at all. We are dead people. My sister is dead. And you want me to wait.” She stalked to the door, and before leaving, she turned and fixed me with her cold eyes. “I will get you for this, Eve. I will.”

  She slammed the door.

  Her threat sent shudders through my body and almost toppled me from my fancy footwear. I tried to run after her, but she was already in the car. She gave me one last hard look then gripped the wheel and squealed off.

  Oh crap. Now what could I do? I’d just have to meet Nappi, get the money and drop it off in West Palm. Maybe Nappi was right. Maybe I should forget about going through with paying the ransom. Could I trust Sophia? She sure did not want to listen to anything I had to say. And where had all my uncle’s money gone? That was a question I’d have to pursue with the lawyer and perhaps a good private detective. I was a lucky girl. I knew a great PI.

  I was still standing on the porch watching Sophia’s car in the distance when Frida pulled up. Now what? I’d have to hustle her out of here if I wanted to be on time for my date with Nappi.

  She got out of the police cruiser with all the enthusiasm of someone on her way to get a root canal.

  “I was just leaving. What’s up?”

  “You’re not going to be happy with me, but I thought I owed it to you to tell you.”

  Oh, oh. I hated it when people said they needed to tell me something. That usually meant bad news.

  “I just arrested your friend, Nappi Napolitani, at the bank.”

  “Was he robbing it?”

  She gave me a look of disgust. “I’m doing you a favor here and you have to get smart with me?”

  “Sorry. Let me do this again. Why in the world would you arrest Mr. Napolitani?” I wanted to remain calm, but my voice rose to a high-pitched squeal, a sound of distress Frida couldn’t help but detect, being a detective and all.

  “Calm down. Let me explain.”

  “I’m calm, but you? You are out of your mind.”

  “He’s connected to the mob.”

  “I know that, but so what? You have to have a reason to arrest him, more than just his family connections.”

  “I arrested him for murder. Your uncle’s murder. With the placement of the bullet and all, it sure looked like a mob hit and we’re pretty certain Nappi took the contract.”

  Did he? Was Nappi involved in the hit on Winston? Not impossible, but improbable.

  “What are you thinking, Eve? I can tell you’ve got something on your mind. I can almost smell the smoke from the gears grinding.”

  “When can I visit him?”

  “He’ll be arraigned tomorrow. I assume his lawyer will get him out soon after. Look, I’ve got to run. Detective Tooney and I are letting him sweat a bit; then we’ll question him. Unless he lawyers up. I told Tooney I’d go out for pastries before we started.”

  “I don’t think Nappi likes pastries much. He’s more of a bagels man, I’d guess.”

  “The pastries aren’t for him. They’re for us.” Frida shook her head, got back into her car and drove off.

  I knew Nappi could take care of himself. I was certain he’d been “sweated” many times and in places more sophisticated in police interrogation than our little jail. But I was in a real pickle. I needed to get the money to Sophia, but someone had taken all of the inheritance Winston left me. Who? I shoved that concern to the back of my thoughts. I couldn’t deliver the money to Sophia and Boris, not Winston’s money, not money from Nappi. I knew Nappi was good for the loan, but right now, he was tied up with two pastry wielding detectives. Maybe Sabal Bay was small potatoes in the police department, but until he got out on bail—if he got out on bail—I was empty handed. All Sophia had to do was to make the Russians believe her. All I had to do was make her believe me.

  I called Winston’s condo and there was no answer. I really didn’t expect one, because Darlene said she had moved out of it and was sharing digs with Sophia and Boris. I had no number for them. Perhaps Winston’s lawyer did. He was in court when I called, but his secretary said she’d check my uncle’s files.

  “There’s no phone number listed for them, or for Darlene. But I do have a street address in West Palm.”

  I jotted it down and tapped my fingernail on my phone case. God, I needed a manicure. And a pedicure. And new boots. And half a million dollars. And a shoulder to cry on. I called Alex and got voicemail. Sammy and his grandfather didn’t answer either their home phone or the one at the airboat business, and neither place had an answering machine. I tried Madeleine, followed by Grandy, then Jay and Antoine. I ran out of names. I considered calling Jerry but thought better of it. I rescued Jerry, not the other way around. All my contacts seemed to have something better to do than listen to my troubles. I again scrolled through my phone contacts and considered
calling Lord and Taylor’s. Really, Eve?

  I grabbed my purse. Off to West Palm to track down the kids and Darlene. If Sophia had been angry with me this morning, she’d pop a rivet when she heard how my loan fell through.

  The address was east of City Place, somewhere off Okeechobee Boulevard. When I located it I was surprised. It was a bit seedy, a two story condominium built in the early seventies and in need of renovation. Well, I never did ask Darlene and Sophia and Boris what they did for work or even if they worked. Winston seemed to be crazy about Darlene when they were at my place. And if he was willing to put up half a million dollars to rescue the sister of Sophia and Boris, he must have also felt something for them. None of this made sense.

  I pulled over to the curb and punched the lawyer’s number into my phone. This time I caught him on his way back from court but with a client sitting in his office.

  “This will only take a minute. I want to know who owns Winston’s condo now.”

  “Winston didn’t own the condo. He rented it.”

  “Any leads on those accounts?”

  “I’m working on it,” he said.

  After thanking him, I ended the call. So it wasn’t because she couldn’t handle the sad memories evoked by being in the condo. Darlene had probably moved her things out of there because she didn’t have the money to pay the rent. Hmm. What else had she lied about? I mentally chided myself for my suspicions about Darlene. Maybe she was just too embarrassed about her financial situation to tell the truth about living off the kids.

  The plantings around the aging buildings were mature and lent a softening effect to the drabness of the stucco gray walls. I pulled into a slot marked for visitors and followed a broken concrete path to the back of Building #1 to the door marked 1G. I knocked and waited, then knocked again. The third time I banged on the door, I heard a voice from inside. “All right, all right. I’m coming. Don’t get your Spanks twisted.”

  Someone released the safety latch and opened the door. It was Darlene, clad in a ratty flowered bathrobe, a towel around her head. Red dye dripped from beneath the towel and ran down her face. Without her makeup she looked ten years older, not at all like the glamorous, mature beauty I had grown to know and dislike.

  “You have the money? C’mon in. I was just doing my hair. Have a seat. I’ll be back in a jiffy. Got to rinse this out.” She fled toward the back of the condo. She seemed happy to see me.

  I looked around the room. This place was sad. It wasn’t dirty or messy, but it was certainly not what Darlene was used to with Winston. The décor was in keeping with Florida—coral and turquoise, white rattan furniture—but the pieces were worn, one sofa arm split along the upholstery seam. It looked as if the place contained the furniture selected when it was built fifty years ago. The laminate countertop on the pass-through to the kitchen was chipped in several places.

  “It ain’t The Ritz, is it?” Darlene had reentered the room, using the towel to dry her bright red hair. She had applied coral lipstick and a swipe of mascara when she was in the bathroom.

  “No.” I felt guilty. Darlene had been Winston’s partner for over a year, and he had married Boris and Sophia’s mother, but he left the three of them almost nothing. Yet he was willing to pay the ransom. What did he mean when he talked to me about family coming first? I thought he meant his stepchildren and Darlene. Did he remove the money from his accounts? What had he been thinking?

  Darlene gestured to the couch. “Have a seat.” She fell into a matching chair and sighed.

  “I don’t understand all of this.” I gestured with my hand to take in the room and its contents.

  “I don’t either, honey.”

  “Why would Winston not leave you and the kids his estate?”

  She shrugged. “I understand from Sophia that you were going to come through with the money and then you backed out. I guess if I were in your shoes I might do the same. I mean, you don’t know their sister. Or them, for that matter. And that’s a lot of money.”

  “Sophia did not let me explain what happened. All of Winston’s accounts have been emptied. There’s nothing left.”

  I don’t know how I expected her to react, but her fit of laughter took me by surprise.

  “That’s rich, it is. So you’ve got nothing to give us.” She was laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face. She wiped it with the end of her towel.

  “I don’t have Winston’s money, but I have other money.”

  “You? And just where would you get ready cash? You’ve got that little consignment shop and your house. You get some kind of divorce settlement from your ex-husband?”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. The divorce settlement left both of us nothing.” I decided not to share with her that I got a house through Nappi and Jerry got a job with him.

  “So?” She leaned back into the chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “So I’ve got a source, but I need a few days to get the cash together. Where are Sophia and Boris? Can they figure out a way to put off the Russians for a few more days?”

  Darlene stared at me squinty-eyed, as if trying to peer into my truth center to see if I was putting one over on her. I guess she decided I was honorable.

  “I’ll let them know you were here and what you said. Sophia’s pretty hot over this. I think she went off for a while to think things through. She’s unpredictable sometimes.”

  “Do you have a number here? I can call when everything is arranged and we can meet.”

  Darlene shook her head. “She’s got a cellphone, but I don’t know the number. I had to discontinue my service. Too expensive. You know, when we rescue that little gal I’m going to get out of here. All this sun is too much for a redhead’s delicate skin. I’m going back up north. I got friends there who’ll be glad to help me out.”

  “You certainly should be commended for your support of Sophia and Boris. And they of you, letting you stay with them and all.”

  She smiled. “It’s what Winston would have wanted.”

  “When do you expect Sophia back? Is Boris with her?”

  “I think she may be working some kind of deal to get the money from other sources, since she indicated she couldn’t count on you.”

  I wondered what her other sources might be, but since Darlene had avoided answering my questions about the siblings’ whereabouts and when they would return, I surmised her earlier positive assessment of me was only temporary.

  “Or she may be off diving,” Darlene added.

  Now that answer took me by surprise. “What do you mean ‘diving’?”

  She tucked her legs under her and leaned back into the couch. “When she gets stressed out, she goes diving.”

  “But her sister’s life is in danger. Don’t you think that’s kind of odd?”

  “Sophia is Russian. She does all kinds of odd things. I don’t pretend to understand her, but she and Boris are very athletic people. They jog every morning, work out in a nearby fitness center, and they dive. I think she also told me they’ve done Ironman Triathlons in places like Hawaii.”

  “Do they have jobs? Where do they get the money for all this? Renting scuba gear. Not to mention paying for airline tickets and hotels.”

  “Aren’t you the nosey one? Why all the questions?”

  “I intend to give them a lot of money, as soon as I contact my, er, supplier. I am just trying to figure this all out. Sophia is a mystery to me, as is this kidnapping. She’s—”

  “Abrupt? Unpleasant? Sharp? Yeah, I know. That’s why I gave up asking them questions. Besides, if I get too pushy, I’ll lose the roof over my head.” She rolled her eyes ceiling-ward. “Such as it is.”

  I gave up trying to pry information out of Darlene about the siblings. What she knew about them, she seemed unwilling to share with me, but I had the feeling she didn’t know very much. Her relationship with them seemed unusual, inexplicable, opaque. The whole situation seemed a bit fishy to me.

 
It was early afternoon when I returned from the coast. I assessed what the trip had netted me: aside from money for gas, not much.

  I was fortunate to have Madeleine as a partner. I knew I hadn’t been holding up my half of the business. When we set up our shop, we decided not to hire clerks. We’d cover the hours ourselves. In the last week, Madeleine had been responsible for opening the store and holding down the fort while I was wandering around in the swamps. Good old Madeleine. I’d stop by the store and tell her to take the rest of the day off.

  When I pulled into the parking lot in front of our shop, I noticed the lights were not on inside, and the sign in the window read “closed.” What was going on? There was an envelope taped to the door with my name on it. Oh no. Maybe there was an emergency in her family. But then why wouldn’t she call me on my cell?

  I unlocked the store, entered and ripped open the envelope. The note inside was worse than anything I could have imagined.

  Chapter 12

  The note read: “Missing something? Missing someone? We’ve got her. To get her back in one piece, we will need money from you. We’ll call to make arrangements. Please don’t make any trouble for us, like contacting the authorities.”

  Despite its cavalier tone, the note was deadly serious. So was this what Sophia meant by the other sources she mentioned to Darlene? I slipped the note back in the envelope with my pointer and middle finger. There might be fingerprints on it that Frida could use, but for now, I had no intention of contacting the police. I called Madeleine’s cell, then her home phone. Both went to voicemail.

  If this was Sophia and Boris, they would not get away with it. I’d track her down and then I’d … I had a plan, but I wasn’t going to be foolish enough to confront them by myself. I needed backup, serious muscular help for what I had in mind. And I needed it now. With Nappi in jail and Alex off on a case in the Panhandle, I had no choice but to jump in my car and head for my swamping partner, Sammy.

  He was heading back up the path to his chickee with a load of tourists following him. Others milled around the chickee. With the Hardy brothers out of business, Sammy’s trade was as brisk as that tea. I was happy for him, but right now I was desperate. I pulled him aside.