Dead in the Water

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “I need to talk with you, Sammy.”

  Grandfather got up from his chair, picked up the chocolates and headed into the house. “I’ll leave you two to plot whatever it is Eve now wants to plot.”

  I heard a chuckle as he closed the door behind him.

  “The cold has chased the mosquitoes away. Like to take a walk down by the canal?”

  I nodded and took his arm. He seemed to accept my touch as the friendly gesture I intended.

  I got right to it. “No one has seen the Hardy brothers around since the fire, and Frida tells me it was arson. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own troubles with money and with Madeleine’s kidnapping, I haven’t thought much about them, but I imagine they’re still on your mind.”

  We stopped by the chickee and he pulled two stools out from under the counter.

  “Sit. I wish I had something warm to offer you.”

  “No, that’s fine. You can offer me your opinion on a number of things. That will keep me warm.”

  “Sure.” He settled onto the stool.

  “You told me the Hardy brothers were into transporting people in and out of the swamps. What do you make of that?”

  “I can’t prove anything, but I think they were picking up illegal aliens at a drop-off spot in the swamp and taking them up the river to another location where the ‘cargo’ was transferred and carried north by truck.”

  “This was their operation?”

  He laughed. “You give them too much credit. They were working for someone, someone big, someone not from around here.”

  I nodded. “Maybe, just maybe they were given a second job for the same folks.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “My uncle was carrying drop-off money for the family that employed him, really the one that owned him. Winston came to my friend Nappi because he wanted to retire. He was tired of the life. He had his own family, children in trouble that he needed to see to, and a woman he cared about. Nappi arranged with Winston’s mob bosses to do a final big money drop, here in the swamps. I’ll bet it was to the Hardy brothers.”

  “Okay, but why did your uncle dump it in the swamp? Why not just hand it off in some inconspicuous way to the Hardys?”

  “He didn’t drop the Hardy’s money in the swamp. He had that money in another duffel, which he placed at his feet. He dropped a ransom payment, his own money to pay the kidnappers, in the swamp. Someone took it before the kidnappers could pick it up.”

  “He was carrying a considerable sum of money then?”

  “A total of one million, all in cash, in two separate duffel bags, half a million of the mob’s money for the Hardys’ and half a million of his own money for the kidnappers. And like the one dropped in the swamp, the bag for the Hardys never made it into their hands. At least that’s what I think.”

  “So, they couldn’t come up with the money they were supposed to take care of. Ah, now I get it. The people they worked for were furious, wanted the money and threatened them.”

  “Yeah, but the money was gone. What could the Hardys do?”

  “Not much.”

  “They didn’t see it that way. I think they were the ones who ran me off the road and threatened me. Then they tried to find the money at my uncle’s condo. That’s why they were at the funeral and the get-together after. I found them rummaging through the bedrooms. They did nothing for a while, something their bosses didn’t think well of. The bosses wanted action, so they decided to light a fire under the brothers, to remind them of the kind of people they worked for. They burned the airboat and produce stand operation to make their point.”

  “So you’re suggesting the reason we haven’t seen them around is that they’re dead?”

  “Nope. As Nappi has pointed out many times. The mob does not kill you when you owe them. They do things to make you wish you were dead. And you find the money. Somehow.”

  “Madeleine.”

  I nodded. Then whispered, “The bastards.”

  Sammy reached out and took my hand. His was big and warm and totally enveloped mine, a comforting feeling, a feeling of safeness.

  “Thank you.”

  He looked puzzled. “What did I do?”

  “I know you’re not real crazy about white folks, yet you helped me when I needed you. You gave me the information I needed tonight and listened to my suspicions and you didn’t laugh at me.”

  “I didn’t give you much information, only what I knew about the brothers.”

  “Yes, but because you listened without a word of doubt when I connected all of what I suspected, it confirmed I was on the right track.”

  Sammy shrugged. “I can’t prove any of what I said. I was lucky to spy them doing one drop-off. I couldn’t go to the authorities and say they seemed to have a lot of people on their boat at night and were transporting them up river. What does that prove?”

  I looked at Sammy and wondered how honest I could be with him. “Of course there was your inherent distrust of the authorities …. Didn’t that also keep you from reporting them?”

  At first I thought I’d made a mistake. He drew back from me, got off the stool, and took a few steps toward the canal. He stood there a moment, hands in his pockets, looking out over the water. Then he returned to his seat.

  “Grandfather and I have discussed in detail what I saw, what all of us in the tribe have seen and think about the Hardys. They seem to us to be the worst of the white people around here. I think a sense of despair settled over me and I felt as if no one other than my family would care what they did in the swamps. The people in Florida—the politicians, ranchers, farmers, and developers—only think about the swamp when it creates problems for them. They’d like all of it to disappear.”

  I agreed with what he was saying. I’d seen the bulldozers and earth moving equipment churning through the watery expanses of land alongside the highway as I drove between Sabal Bay and the coast one morning last month. By the time I headed back in the afternoon, piles of trees, brush, and other vegetation stood in mountainous heaps and the land was stripped down to bare earth. I could only imagine what this rape did to the wildlife that depended upon the swamp to breed, nest, and eat.

  He continued. “What good is swampland unless you can drain it and build condos or plant sugar on it? Look what they’ve done to the Everglades and the Big Lake? Confined the lake with feeder canals, levees, and locks and almost succeeded in draining the Everglades. Most people consider it a big dump, like folks out west see the deserts—land where trash can be tossed. Why should I want to step in?” His voice was filled with anger, disdain, and fear.

  Then his face brightened for a moment. “Grandfather says we have to trust some of the white people or we will lose everything. Maybe he’s right.”

  “I think we can begin by taking down these two brothers.”

  “Their bosses will only send others.”

  “Maybe, but it’s better to take a stand against two brothers instead of waiting until many more like them cruise the swamps with boats full of desperate people. I’ve got a way to confirm part of what I suspect. It’s a beginning.”

  Sammy wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “And I’ll bet you’re going to bait them out of hiding. Right? Offer them something so enticing they can’t resist. I want to be in on it.”

  “Sure.”

  Nappi and I had split up the responsibility for bringing Madeleine’s kidnapper and Winston’s killer to justice. He would deal with the Russians, and I would handle the Hardys. With a little help from my friends, of course.

  One friend I hadn’t counted on was Alex, who rolled in that night from Pensacola, announcing he had finished his case and was free to hang around. He was promising to wine and dine me. How could I tell him I was hot on the heels of a kidnapper, that a romantic interlude didn’t fit my schedule right now? Oh, that would change, I was certain, but at this moment I didn’t have time for the two step, tango, candlelit dinners, and hot kisses, even if they were great hot kisses. I couldn’t tell hi
m that. He’d be hurt. And he’d be furious that I’d plunged my acrylic nails into another bowl of murder.

  I thought I should ease him into what I was up to. Of course, I had no intention of telling him every little detail of what I was doing, but I’d practice a bit of easing and see how it went. I couldn’t lie to him forever.

  The night after I enlisted Nappi and Sammy as co-conspirators in my plans to find the Russians and the Hardys, Alex took me to the coast. We sat overlooking the St. Lucie River, sipping a bottle of very nicely chilled Pinot Grigio, my very favorite wine. Asparagus with hollandaise sauce topped with crab meat was the appetizer, followed by blackened mahi and a side of polenta. Yummy.

  Things were going so well. I was about to start my easing into the truth approach when Madeleine walked in with a date. Uh-oh. There was one little detail I’d forgotten about. I hadn’t told Alex that Madeleine had been nabbed. Well, give me a break. I was busy trying to figure out how to rescue her. Over the phone he kept saying I should tell the authorities about the ransom demand for Sophia and Boris’ sister, which I took to mean I should report any ransom demand. I’d again indicated I wouldn’t go to the police, so while Madeleine was being held by the peanut butter guy, the calls between Alex and me were short. I was in no mood to reveal what I was doing, so why would I tell him I was trying to borrow money from Nappi to rescue Madeleine? Why would I tell him she needed rescuing? He didn’t need to know that I was ignoring his advice … as usual. Or that I was into something not quite legal … again.

  I’d neglected to tell him about losing Nappi’s money, Jerry’s stint in the hospital, or Madeleine’s diet of peanut butter followed by our swim in the canal lock. So I guess he didn’t know much of what had transpired in the past few days. The truth? He didn’t know anything about what I’d done.

  All of this raced through my head as Madeleine came over to our table and gave Alex a hug. “I’m so glad you’re back. You can’t imagine what it was like all that time ….”

  I tried to stop her from saying more, but I knew this was a train wreck I couldn’t stop. Alex turned accusing eyes on me and indicated how much he’d like to hear more. He invited them to join us just to ensure he didn’t miss a detail. I was screwed.

  They had a great evening while I lost my appetite for my dinner. Why hadn’t I phoned Madeleine and told her to hush up about her kidnapping and the mugging until I filled Alex in on the story? Again, I said to myself, it’s because I’m involved in yet another scheme that’s taking up my psychic energy and chasing other items out of my brain. Like who knows what and who shouldn’t know anything.

  We were in the ladies room repairing our lipstick when she gave it to me. I knew it was coming, so I’d steeled myself with a brandy after dinner.

  “Alex is your boyfriend. How can you not tell him what happened to me, to you, to Jerry? Besides, it’s over now. How mad can he be?”

  I looked at her reflection in the mirror and gave her a nervous smile.

  “Now what are you up to, Eve?” Madeleine said.

  The ride back to the coast was accompanied by loud silence.

  “Want to come in for a nightcap?” If I sounded less than eager to spend any more alone time with Alex, it was only because my plan to tell him slowly about my adventures of the last few days needed serious revision. I had such a headache from the tension over dinner that I couldn’t think well enough to construct another approach.

  “Do you want me to? I mean, because you seem to be so preoccupied with your other men: Nappi, Jerry, that Russian guy, the Russian mob, the missing Hardys, Madeleine’s kidnapper …. Have I left anyone out?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, Sammy Indian and his grandfather. Am I right?”

  “Don’t be mean, Alex. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re always sorry after you get caught. How about your vow not to get involved in this business? Tell Frida everything and let it go.”

  “I can’t. I made promises. I have to keep them.”

  “You made promises to your uncle’s stepchildren, which was fine until you found out you didn’t have his money to pay the ransom. It’s not your problem, Eve. The police need to be in on this one. Now.”

  “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “How not simple is it?”

  “Come in and I’ll tell you everything. Then maybe you’ll understand.” I had my fingers crossed behind my back. How could I tell him everything without lengthening the distance between us?

  He nodded, and I unlocked the door.

  “Have a seat. I’ll get us coffee.”

  He sat on the couch, but got up again. “Something’s poking me in the butt.”

  He flipped aside the cushions and extracted a small plastic object, a cellphone.

  “You left your phone here, and you also forgot to charge it. It’s dead.”

  “What?” I left off brewing the coffee and came to see what he was talking about.

  “See. It won’t even turn on.” He handed the phone to me.

  “It’s not my phone.”

  “It must belong to one of your many men.”

  “Don’t start that again, Alex.”

  But I figured he was right. It did belong to one of my “men.” I was sure it was Uncle Winston’s discarded burner phone.

  Chapter 17

  I held the phone in my hand and knew I’d confronted one thing I ought not to keep to myself.

  “You know what you have to do, don’t you?” Alex’s voice was calm and steady, the kind of lifeline I needed with all the craziness happening around me.

  Maybe he was right. I was trying to take on too much. I’d start here. Whatever was on this phone couldn’t hurt Winston now, but it might just reveal who had killed him.

  “Unless you’re afraid there’s an incriminating message on there from one of your mob friends.” Alex searched my face for a reaction.

  Nappi? No, I knew there was nothing, not even Nappi’s phone number, that could connect him and Winston. He’d told me they only met in person. Unless he lied to me and thought I’d never find out because the burner was destroyed.

  “I’ll have to take that chance, won’t I?” I said.

  I reached for my own cell, but before I could call Frida, it rang in my hand.

  “Eve? It’s Darlene. I need to talk to you.”

  “If it’s about the ransom money, Mr. Napolitani is handling that now.”

  There was a moment’s hesitation on the line.

  “Oh, he is. That’s … good, right? I’m not calling about the money. Well, not really. I just have to talk to you. You’re the only one I can trust. I think someone is trying to kill me.” She began to sob.

  “Take it easy. Can we meet tomorrow?”

  As quickly as she had lost control, she regained it. “Yes. Meet me at Macy’s in City Place at noon.”

  “I’m not driving down there. I’ve got a business to run, and it’s not had much of my attention lately. You can drive up here and come to the shop.”

  “I’ll have to rent a car then.”

  “Borrow Sophia and Boris’ car. Tell them you need to go shopping for something.”

  “Sophia would want to come with me. She watches me like a hawk. I don’t think she trusts me. Sometimes I get the impression she thinks I’m responsible for the money disappearing.”

  “Are you?”

  “What? Like I’d be crawling around in a swamp absconding with that.”

  “You’re still living with them?”

  “Where else can I stay? I’ve got no money.”

  “Winston left you something in his will.”

  “I already spent that.”

  “On what?” I was about at my wit’s end with her and the siblings. I felt as if I was the parent of clinging, needy children.

  “I had some debts.”

  “Tomorrow. At the store.”

  “Can we go to lunch?” she asked.

  “Lunch. I thought you were afraid someone was after you, but you can think about
food?”

  “Why should I die on an empty stomach?”

  Why indeed?

  I ended the call.

  Alex frowned. “Don’t tell me. This had something to do with the alleged kidnapping?”

  “Only indirectly.” I told him what Darlene wanted.

  “I swear you’re like a social worker with too many cases. You can’t rescue every Russian girl who comes to you for help.”

  “Arguing about it won’t get us anywhere.”

  “You’re right. I’ll keep my mouth shut. For now. Call Frida.”

  I did. She wasn’t on duty, so I tried her home phone. She didn’t sound happy to hear from me.

  “You said I could call you here, you know.”

  “It’s after midnight. This better be important.”

  “A burner phone?”

  “You found it?”

  “Yup. In my couch. If you’re too tired, we can talk about this tomorrow, although I’ve got a pretty full schedule. Some cop told me I’d be better respected in the business community if I opened my store on a regular basis. I’ll try to fit you in between customers.”

  “Don’t get uppity on me. I’ll be right over.”

  Alex and I were only on our second make-up kiss when she pounded on my door.

  “Hi Alex. Long time, no see. I’m glad you’re back here. Maybe you can keep a rein on our gal here.”

  I batted my lashes in a feigned look of total innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “When I don’t hear from you in a while, I know you’re up to something. I heard a rumor that you and Madeleine took a dip in the lock at Deer Mound the other night. Any truth to that?”

  “We’d have to be out of our minds to swim in alligator infested waters.”

  “My very point. Hand it over.” She held out her hand for the phone.

  “Don’t I get to know what’s on it?”

  “It’s evidence in a murder case. You’ll find out when I decide to tell you.” Her expression softened. “Look, I know you want to find out who killed your uncle as much as I want to arrest the bastard, but it is evidence, and I’m glad you turned it in. Thanks. You did the right thing.”