Dead in the Water

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “It’s a poor showing for two gals who pride themselves on their fashion sense,” I said. “One of us is going to have to nag the matrons on the coast for items. Just because the stock market has bounced back doesn’t mean they won’t need a bit of cash to use at the casinos.”

  I combined two racks of dresses into one, making it look full, but tricks like that wouldn’t put more inventory in our store.

  “I’ll pay them a visit tomorrow,” Madeleine said as she pushed the empty rack into the back of the store. “They’ll come through with something. What other consignment shop comes to your house to pick up items?”

  The bell dinged, signaling a customer had entered.

  “Go ahead and take off, Madeleine. You’ve been doing more than your share here, and you’ll need to get up early to drive to the coast tomorrow.”

  Madeleine stared at the customer. “It’s just as well. She’s not someone I want to deal with anyway.”

  I was surprised at her comment until I realized the person was Darlene. Madeleine gave her a curt nod of the head and left.

  “I’m getting ready to close.” I wasn’t keen on dealing with Darlene, either.

  “That’s why I’m here. I’ve got something important to talk about. She reached back and flipped the sign in the window to closed. “I don’t want anybody to see me.”

  I wasn’t quite comfortable being alone in the store with her. I was taller than she was, sure, and younger too, but there was something edgy about the woman that set me on guard. Usually. Today, however, all I picked up from her was raw terror.

  “Let’s go back here. I’ve got a pot of coffee on.”

  “No booze?” She followed me into the back room.

  “It’s a consignment shop, not a bar.”

  She unwound the scarf she was wearing around her neck and over her hair. I noticed she’d been neglecting her roots, which were stark white against the bottle red.

  “I’ll just come right out with it. I took the money. Here.” She plopped her huge purse on the counter, and with shaking hands, extracted the other satchel Winston had carried the day of his death. “You take it. I know someone is tailing me, watching me. I don’t want it. It’s too much trouble.”

  I tried not to look surprised, but I was in a state of shock. Two missing bags of money appearing in one day. And dropped into my hands. I did not want the responsibility for either of them.

  “It’s not my money, Darlene. It belongs to the mob.”

  “Right. So you can return it to the mob.”

  “Why me?”

  “Cuz you’ve got mob contacts.”

  “So do you.”

  “Mine don’t like me or trust me much, and I feel the same about them. Your contact is your buddy, friend, the big Kahuna. He can get it to the right people.” She cleared her throat and looked around the room as if expecting someone to jump out from under the dress racks. “I gotta run.”

  I reached out and grabbed her arm. “Whoa. You’re not leaving until you answer a few of my questions. Sit.” I pushed her into a chair.

  “First, why did you take it? You knew it would cause trouble for Winston.”

  “I don’t know. I sort of panicked. It was sitting there on the floor of the boat, and Winston was babbling on and on about the ride with you. It just seemed so easy. I reached down and dropped the duffel into my purse. Once I’d done it, it was as if the money didn’t exist anymore. It was gone. It was mine then.”

  “You did this just before he was shot?”

  “Right after the driver of the boat did that wheelie thing, before we pulled up to the dock. Don’t you see? There was all this money and it was going into the hands of the wrong people. I’ve never had much of anything and—”

  “And he’d just dropped the ransom for the Russians in the swamp. He’d gotten directions to do that from the kidnappers, right? He was killing two birds with one stone: money dropped in the swamp for the Russian mob and money in the remaining duffel the delivery for the American mob, his bosses.”

  “Yes. I knew about the Russians taking Sophia and Boris’ sister. And he told me this was his last job for his bosses.”

  “You’re not making any sense. It was so stupid taking the money. You’d have been found out sooner or later.”

  “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking …. Then Winston was shot and I was ….” Darlene teared up.

  “You were home free. And wasn’t that a lucky break for you? I thought you loved my uncle. You had us running around in circles trying to figure out what happened. But eventually someone would suspect you.”

  “I know that now. So I returned it.”

  “Did Sophia and Boris know you took it?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think they suspect you took it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You can’t make this all go away by giving me the money.”

  “I guess being around so much money that day made me kind of crazy for a while. But now I know better.” She jumped up from the chair and ran for the door. She was faster than I expected for a woman of her age and girth. Before I could stop her she ran out into the parking area. I caught her just as she unlocked her rental.

  “I’m going to talk to Mr. Napolitani. I’ll tell him what you said and about the money. We’ll see what we can do. Where will you be tonight?”

  She turned to me, a black look on her face. “You are a foolish woman. Don’t you understand that he would only support his mob associates? I’m as good as dead if that man or Winston’s bosses get a hold of me.”

  “I have a place for you to hide,” I said. It was a stupid gesture on my part, but it meant I could keep track of where she was.

  Madeleine’s smile at seeing me on her doorstep faded quickly when she heard what I had to say. She was almost too enraged to speak. “Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not. First, I can’t stand the woman. Second, she’s a criminal. Who knows what else she will do? I don’t want it done in my house.”

  Madeleine had a right to be angry with me. Everything she said about Darlene was true, but I didn’t know where else to stash the woman. It had to be a place where I could keep an eye on her and where no one she knew would look for her. Since everyone was aware of the enmity between her and Madeleine, it seemed like a perfect solution. Except Madeleine didn’t like it, and it was her house. She stamped her foot and stood unmoving in her front doorway. There was no way of getting beyond her without the help of an army of invading Visigoths.

  Darlene sat slunk down in my car, my wonderful Mustang that I’d just gotten back from the repair shop. I’d followed her to the local rental place to drop off hers. I knew it wasn’t an ideal solution if anyone wanted to track the car. They’d find it here and soon figure out she was no longer on the coast but in Sabal Bay. Still, it was the best I could do. I was running low on schemes.

  Madeleine slammed the door as I walked back to my car, my shoulders slumped in defeat. I’d used up any reserve good will she might feel toward me by asking her to hide Darlene. I’d be lucky if Madeleine spoke to me again this month.

  “She hates me.” Darlene slid farther down in the passenger’s seat.

  “Not enough to kill you but enough that she won’t have you staying with her.” I started the engine and stared ahead into the gathering twilight. The streetlight overhead came on like a light bulb in my head. I pulled away from the curb.

  “Where to now, jail?” Darlene’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Why was I trying to help this woman? I asked myself again for about the tenth time.

  “To a friend’s house. He’s gone for a few days.”

  I’d tell Alex I stopped by to water his plants. And left Darlene.

  Chapter 20

  “You left her where?” Nappi was clad in my apron and stirred a pot of bubbling sauce at the stove.

  “She was terrified. I had to do something. I was afraid she’d bolt, and we’d never find her again.”

  “I can find anybody.
” He held the spoon out to me. “Taste.”

  “You’re quite a crook, I mean cook.”

  He gave me a grim look, then burst into laughter. I joined him. When we recovered, the two bags of money sitting on my living room floor captured our attention.

  “What do we do about those?”

  “It’s impossible to make a sound decision on an empty stomach. We eat first, have a little vino, an espresso and a cannoli. Then we plot our next move.”

  The food sounded delicious, and I favored the idea of plotting rather than merely reacting. Before I twisted linguini onto my fork, I knew there was something I had to clear up with Nappi.

  “Why did you lie to me about how you contacted my uncle? Frida said the burner phone I found in my couch had contact numbers on it for you.”

  He picked up his fork and directed his attention to the pasta. He took a bite and nodded as if in approval. “I assumed the burner phone had been disposed of in the manner intended, so why should I worry you? You’d only do something foolish if you found it, like dispose of it. As it was, you took it to Frida.”

  I thought about his answer. So cavalier, but so in keeping with what I knew about Nappi. Yeah, that sounded about right.

  We finished out meal, cleared the table and put the dishes into the dishwasher, then took more comfortable seats in my living room.

  “What did the Russians think of your offer of half the amount?”

  Nappi’s look of contentment changed and his eyes clouded over. “They turned me down.”

  “Maybe I was mistaken about that glove thing. Maybe Boris really did lose his glove and it wasn’t the one I grabbed off the ninja couple who robbed Jerry and me. If Sophia and Boris were the guilty parties, you’d think another quarter of a million would satisfy them and give us some evidence they were the kidnappers.”

  “Not so. Who was the couple then?” Nappi took a sip of his espresso.

  “I guess I just don’t like the siblings and want to believe the worst of them. I was certain they were the ninja robbers and the original ransom demand was just a ruse to get money. Now that we know it was real, we don’t have a clue who the robbers were, and the Russians still want half a million dollars.”

  We both leaned forward and our gazes landed on the duffels.

  “We have the money, and I have the drop-off instructions.” There was determination in his voice.

  “Is this the end game? We give it up, and that’s all? We never find out who killed my uncle or why?” I put my head in my hands.

  Nappi got up from his chair and came over to wrap his arms around me. “We’re not through with this yet. We have until late tomorrow night to find out more. Then we’ll give them this money.” He pointed toward the beaten-up duffel.

  “Because it was what Winston wanted.”

  As for the money in the other duffel, the one Darlene had taken, I knew it would have to go back to Winston’s bosses. Nappi would take care of that in time.

  Neither of us was happy with this outcome, but unless tomorrow produced some detail we didn’t already know, we were stuck. Our only hope was to foil the drop-off, get the sister back and hope the pieces of this puzzle would realign themselves to reveal my uncle’s killer.

  It was a lousy plan.

  I awoke in the middle of the night and knew it was simple. The kidnappers insisted that the authorities not be contacted, and that was Kidnapping 101. The parties involved—my uncle who was a mob lackey, Darlene with her mob connections and the Russian siblings whose experience in their home country made them suspicious of the police—would never want the authorities in on this. That made sense to me. Frida didn’t know a thing about the kidnapping of Winston’s stepdaughter. Our only source of information was another mob member, Mr. Napolitani, but he didn’t have any “ins” with the Russian mob.

  The background information that the Feds and other police organizations might examine in a kidnapping wasn’t in play, and when I thought about not having it, that bothered me. A lot. I knew nothing about my uncle’s Russian family: where they came from, who they were, any details about their personal histories or their present status. What a dope I’d been, letting myself be run back and forth, panicked by threats about the kidnapped sister and then Madeleine. It kept my adrenaline pumping and sidelined my thought centers. I should have done this before. I needed the services of a good PI. I knew one. I called, even though it was two in the morning.

  “Hi, Alex? Look, I know it’s late but this is important. You have contacts. Could you help me out?”

  There was a lot of grumbling at the other end of the line, but when I assured him I only needed information, that I wasn’t planning anything illegal, he said he’d work on it. I told him he had until tomorrow afternoon.

  “What happens then?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Eve.”

  “Really. Nothing. Not until later.” I told him about the ransom drop-off.

  “The authorities still aren’t in on this?”

  “No. No one wants to play around with the Russians. They’re too unpredictable. But Nappi’s going to spearhead the drop-off.” Once the words slipped out of my mouth, I regretted them.

  “Oh, well, then things should be great.” Alex was wide awake now. I could tell, because his words were dripping with sarcastic dislike of Nappi.

  “Call me. And thanks, honey. Oh, and before you hang up, I thought I’d let you know I watered your plants.”

  “I don’t have any plants.”

  “That’s just my way of saying I dropped by your place. I should buy you one. Maybe a cactus.”

  “For getting you this information? I was expecting something a little more personal.”

  “No, the thank you is for putting up a person I know.”

  “Eve?”

  I hung up and made a note to buy Alex a thank you philodendron. He’d overwater a cactus.

  I got out of bed and fired up my computer. By five in the morning, I had information on my uncle’s Russian family. I couldn’t track their background in Russia, but I was certain Alex would ferret that out for me. I had another source I hadn’t mined yet, but I intended to do some excavating there later. I signed off and slid back into bed, setting my alarm for seven—time enough to pick up breakfast for two, then go to the shop. I fell asleep at once and dreamed of sailing with my parents on the sound. When I awoke, I felt refreshed, as if I’d slept for days. I made a pot of coffee and called Grandy to share my pleasant dream.

  “You sound better than I’ve heard you in days. Getting restful sleep is good for you,” she said.

  “Yep and so is using my head a little.”

  “You’ve always used your head, dear. Sometimes you’re a little impulsive.”

  “I know, but I’ve stepped back and looked at this kidnapping thing and I think I’ve figured something out.”

  “What is that?”

  “Did Winston contact you over the years, I mean, since I last saw him when I was a teen?”

  “Yes, he did. He called many times, always asked about what you were doing. I felt a little guilty not letting you know but he thought you’d find his business connections unpleasant. I encouraged him in that, I know, but I wasn’t keen on ruining your childhood memories. It was bad enough you lost your parents when you were so young. I wanted you to have good memories of Winston. He was so proud of you, although not really crazy about your choice of Jerry as a husband.”

  “Did he know about my friendship with Nappi and that Jerry was working for him?”

  “No. I don’t think he would have liked it, wouldn’t have understood.”

  “Well he found out right before his death. I think he did understand. He trusted Nappi, and since I did also, it might have been what influenced him to retire.”

  “Do you think that’s somehow related to his murder?”

  “Only indirectly.” I paused. “Hey, I’ve got to run. I just called to say I love you and Max.”

  “Wait. You said you fi
gured out something about the kidnapping. What was it?”

  “I always thought to be connected to another human being was more important than anything, but not everyone can feel that way.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Oh Grandy, that’s everything.”

  “Up and at ’em. Open up. It’s room service.” I had to bang on the door and yell twice before I heard footsteps inside.

  Darlene opened the door an inch and peered out at me. “Oh, it’s you. What time is it anyway? The sun’s barely up. I need sleep. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”

  “Yeah, I can relate. I have to open the store today, so I thought I’d bring you a little breakfast. I don’t suppose Alex has anything in the house. He hasn’t been home much of late.”

  She opened the door wide enough for me to squeeze in, poked her head out and looked up and down the street, then slammed it shut and turned the lock and the deadbolt.

  “I am hungry, now that you mention it.” She grabbed the coffee I’d set on the table, ripped open one of the breakfast sandwiches and took a huge bite. “Aren’t you having anything?”

  “I thought I’d eat the other sandwich.”

  “These are so small, only a few bites.” She grabbed the other one and held it to her chest. “You can get another on the way to the shop.”

  I brought her the food to make nice, get her to trust and like me, but now I thought I should turn her into the cops and tell them what she said about taking the money. Frida would believe me. I resisted the impulse. I wanted to pick her brain, and she might be more agreeable to spilling information if she was well fed and caffeinated.

  “No sign of anyone? No SUVs driving past?” I hoped I sounded concerned for her safety.

  “I didn’t see any. What do you know?”

  “Nothing. I think you’re perfectly safe here.” I pulled out a kitchen chair and gestured to it. She plopped into it, shoving the last bite of her first sandwich into her mouth at the same time she unwrapped the second one.

  “I feel pretty safe. The bed is comfortable and I took a long shower last night. Sophia and Boris are so mean about the hot water. They say it costs too much for me to have a hot shower whenever I want.”