by Betty Webb
Obviously I was no longer “goofy” because Roarke and Walt acting in concert didn’t sound right. “Who reached me first?”
“Roarke, as I understand it. Seconds later the fireman came along.”
“But Roarke was back at the restaurant having dinner. And anyway, the Tequila Sunrise is in the other direction from the Merilee. There’s no reason he’d be walking toward the harbor’s south end. And Walt, well, he’d been drinking. He and Roarke exchanged words before he left Fred’s in a huff.”
“The guy was hammered, all right. Both of them admitted there’d been some kind of altercation at the restaurant with you in the middle. Roarke said that as soon as you left, a couple of the liveaboarders headed for the door, too, so he told his wife to stay at the restaurant while he made sure you got home okay.”
I tried to envision the scene. Me, lying on the pavement, Roarke running to my rescue, Walt staggering along behind. “He left Frieda with the liveaboarders?” This didn’t fit with the new and improved Roarke, the Roarke who ran back to his boat to get a jacket for his wife, the Roarke who was already planning his son’s on-land education.
“That’s what he said. What do you remember before height="0ights went out?”
I closed my eyes but the darkness just made me more aware of my headache so I opened them again. “Fog. Maybe footsteps, but they might have been my own.”
He sat on the side of the bed. Now that my mother wasn’t there to disapprove, he took my hand and kissed it. “That’s not a love tap on the back of your head, Teddy. Whoever hit you meant business. Look, I know you’ve continued to ask around about Grayson’s murder and for that I blame myself. We’ve made our arrest, so drop it, okay?”
“You arrested the wrong person. By the way, where was Zorah last night?”
He couldn’t meet my eyes. “Attending her niece’s quince.”
A quinceañera was the coming-of-age celebration for a Hispanic girl, carried out with all the hoopla of a confirmation, bat mitzvah, and high-school graduation party combined. There would have been at least one hundred witnesses who would swear up and down Zorah never once moved from her niece’s side for the entire day and evening.
“So she has an alibi,” I gloated.
“Family members always lie for each other, that’s nothing new.” He didn’t sound like he believed his own argument.
“You know darned well Zorah didn’t ‘clock’ me, as you so delicately put it.”
“She’s strong enough.”
“But not sneaky enough. She can’t even hide a gun without screwing up.”
He spread his hands. “What can I say?”
“You can say goodbye, that’s what. I’m going home.” During my earlier look around the room, I had seen something that looked like a closet door. My clothes were probably in there. I’d slip them on and leave.
Joe gave me a pained smile. “To your boat? Your mother will never allow it. Obviously you don’t remember the hell she raised last night, screaming about you living alone on that thing.”
I tried to shrug, but it hurt too much. “That’s nothing new.”
“Right now she has a point. As sheriff, I’m saying it’s not safe to go back there. And as someone else who loves you, I’m in total agreement with her. She may not be the easiest person to live with but she’ll make sure you’re safe. Knowing her, she’ll probably hire an entire battalion of security guards.”
“I’m going back to the Merilee.”
“You do and I’ll come up with an excuse to have it impounded!”
What an impasse. If I stayed at my mother’s, he’d find an excuse to visit and might catch a glimpse of my father. It may have been twenty years since Joe had laid eyes on him, but he had a policeman’s memory. I searched for a compromise.
“Okay. I’ll stay at Caro’s for a day or two. But then I’m going back to the Merilee, where—I’d like tremind you—I have a guard dog.”
“That three-legged mutt of yours?”
“He’s vicious.” I didn’t tell him about the night my father snuck aboard and DJ Bonz failed the guard dog test. In an attempt to solve my other problem, I added, “Um, I was going to discuss this before my, uh, accident. I think we need to...” I searched for the proper phrase, something that wouldn’t be too harsh. “...put our personal relationship on hold for a while. Give ourselves some breathing room.”
He stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. “On hold? Has your mother issued another edict against me?”
“It’s just that I ... I...” Obviously I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I was afraid he’d run into my father at the house and arrest him. But since I hadn’t yet come up with a believable excuse, I said, “So much is going on, Joe. We need time to think about us, our future. If we have one, that is.”
His face intent, he leaned over the bed. “Teddy, are you dumping me again?”
I turned away so he couldn’t look into my eyes. “No, no. I just need a break for a while. Some space.”
“Space?” Then his expression changed and he grew terribly quiet. “What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me?”
I didn’t answer. How could I?
With a sigh, he stood up and walked out of the room. I could heard his footsteps echoing all the way down the hall.
It was the loneliest sound in the world.
***
Later that afternoon the hospital released me, and by dinnertime I found myself ensconced with Bonz and Priss in the bedroom where I’d grown up. Caro had kept it unchanged, apparently believing the posters of Jon Bon Jovi, Gloria Estefan, and the Thompson Twins I’d collected as a teen would lure me home. While the Nineties’ Gloria still looked stylish, I now realized how weird all that hair looked on Bon Jovi and the Twins. I didn’t much care for the room’s turquoise and lime green color scheme, either. The bright colors hurt my eyes.
Although I felt fine except for the raw spot at the back of my head and some residual light sensitivity, Caro, changed into a yellow Betsey Johnson frock that hurt my eyes even more than the room, wouldn’t even let me out of bed to eat. She served my dinner on a silver tray piled high with rosemary chicken, roasted potatoes, a steamed artichoke in garlic butter sauce, and for dessert, a strawberry-kiwi torte. Obviously, my father remained in residence.
After watching me gobble down the food, she asked, “Ready for seconds?”
“What I need is to walk this off, so I’ll take Bonz out. Where’d you put his leash?”
She set the tray aside and leaned forward to dab at my chin with a snowy linen napkin. “He can use the old doggy door. You’re staying in bed.”
“I’m not an invalid.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Oh, please. I’m thirty years old and I’ve been living on my own for more than ten years.”
“And look how that turned out.” With that, she picked up the tray and left the room.
She did have a point, I mused, as I lay there staring at the ceiling with Bonz snoring at my feet and Priss curled on my stomach. My life choices had worked out so well that someone was trying to kill me and the man I loved had just walked out of my life.
I didn’t know which was worse.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning I was finishing up a chorizo omelet topped with tangy salsa and a dollop of sour cream, another of Dad’s culinary creations, when my bedroom door opened. Stiff with disapproval, my mother let in Walt McAdams. She waited by the door like an irritated pit bull.
Looking hung over, with red eyes but at least a different tee shirt than he’d worn the night of my attack, Walt carried a handful of wildflowers. “How you doing, tiger?” His breath still smelled like the Budweiser brewery.
I beckoned him closer for a kiss. Cheek-peck duly rendered, I said, “I hear you helped save my life.”
He shrugged, then winced, as if the movement hurt him. “All in a day’s work.”
I thanked him for the flowers, and stuffed them into the water glass on my nightstand, si
nce if I didn’t, my mother would throw out such a proletarian offering. We chatted for a while about boats and things, but when Caro grew increasingly restless, I asked him the question that had nagged me all night. “Do you know how long Roarke had been with me when you arrived?”
“It could only have been seconds. I’d just gotten back to the Running Wild and was taking a leak over the side when I heard what sounded like a scuffle. So I zipped up and went to investigate. That’s when I saw Roarke bending over you. Then I saw some guy running off and I went after him, but I ... Well, I wasn’t moving all that good. I was...”
“Drunk,” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry about my behavior at Fred’s and what I said to you. It’s the stress. We’re all worried about what’ll happen to our boats with the new harbor ordinances. None of us wants to move to another marina.”
“I don’t either.”
“I know. That’s why when I called you a...”
Time to stop the guilt-wallowing. “I’ve been called worse. Hey, what’s it like outside? Morning fog burned off yet?”
“An hour ago.”
We chatted until Caro, whose eyes had never once left him, said, “You’ll have to leave now, Mister McAdams. My daughter needs her rest.” With a look of distain, she added, “And shame on you, urinating into the harbor!”
She hustled him o the door, following close behind to make sure he didn’t steal the silver.
I lay there, hoping Joe would visit but knowing he wouldn’t. Eventually, bored out of my mind, I wobbled over to my bookcase and took down The Hidden Staircase, an old Nancy Drew mystery I’d loved as a teen. After reading a couple of chapters, I dozed off.
Caro woke me when she opened the door again. “Another visitor,” she announced, ushering in Roarke with great ceremony. He bore flowers, too, a professionally-arranged bouquet of color-coordinated chrysanthemums and petunias offset by a sleek calilysis.
“How are you?” He handed the flowers to my mother, who before I could stop her, scurried off to find an appropriate vase.
Not sure how I felt about being left alone with him, I gave him the best smile I could manage. “Fine, except for a headache. And thanks for what you did last night. I owe you one.”
“You’d have done the same for me. Frieda would’ve come along, too, but the poor girl’s suffering from morning sickness.”
We talked pregnancy and boats until Caro returned, bearing his expensive bouquet in the small Ming vase she’d hidden from the feds during their property-grabbing rampage. “Aren’t Roarke’s flowers beautiful, Teddy?”
Yes, they were, and too slick for my taste. I preferred Walt’s wildflowers. Feeling safer now that she’d returned, I asked Roarke why he’d left the restaurant to usher me home.
“Are you kidding? Those liveaboarders were baying for blood. You didn’t show great judgment by leaving right after that drunk fireman.”
“The others were as angry as Walt, most of them just as drunk. And they were still there. So why’d you leave Frieda anywhere near them?”
He gave me an accusing look. “Nothing bad could happen to her at Fred’s.”
“How trusting. By the way, did you happen to catch a glimpse of the man who attacked me? Walt was here earlier and said you reached me first.”
He shook his head. “The guy took off as soon as he heard me. Like I told the sheriff, I saw somebody in dark pants and a dark hoodie running toward the parking lot, and Walt staggered after him for a few steps. I don’t think either of us could tell you the color of his hair or whether he was tall or short, fat or thin. The fog was too thick.”
After Roake left, I lay in my turquoise and lime room staring at the ceiling. It had been two weeks since I discovered Grayson dead in the anteater enclosure, and I was no closer to discovering who killed him than before. All I knew for sure was that it hadn’t been Zorah. What if...?
My train of thought was broken when the door opened and my father walked in bearing a big pitcher of orange juice and two glasses. “I wanted to add some champagne to celebrate your great escape, but your mother wouldn’t let me. I don’t remember her being that bossy.”
“Your memory must be failing,” I said, as he poured for us.
He laughed briefly, then his face grew grave. “I’m glad you’re feeling so perky again, but how many more visitors do you expect? I’ve been hiding in the attic all morning and I’m wondering if I should go back to Al’s for a while. It’s been wonderful being with your mother again, but if anyone sees me...”
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. With Joe and Chuckles Fitzgerald both on the alert, my father’s presence in Gunn Landing was getting more and more problematical.
A hesitant knock at the door sent him scurrying into my closet, where he scrunched himself among plastic and lavender-wrapped prom dresses and riding habits. Putting a finger against his lips, he softly shut the door.
Caro stuck her head into the room, obviously unaware that she’d interrupted my father in the midst of a visit. “Another gentleman caller.”
When she opened the door wider, I saw Barry Fields almost hidden behind a huge bouquet of long-stemmed roses. Taken off guard, I pulled up the covers around my neck, which sent Miss Priss flying. DJ Bonz gave the zoo director a brief growl, then went back to sleep.
“My poor Teddy!” Barry rushed toward me, roses flapping. “When I heard what happened...” Considering that he wasn’t a professional actor, he gave a pretty decent performance. His voice choked with emotion and he displayed all the appropriate body language, but his eyes were as calculating as an IRS tax auditor’s. No doubt he was running an inventory of the expensive goodies he’d seen since entering the house.
I gave him a feeble smile. “I’ll be back to work tomorrow.”
“No you won’t!” Caro rose from the chair. “Not with that disgusting anteater and those vicious bears! You’re not going back to that messy boat, either!”
“Yes I am!”
Barry groveled for a few seconds at my bedside, his eyes glued to the Ming. Then, forcing his attentions away from the vase, he took my hand. “Your mother knows what’s best for you, dear.”
Dear. I almost lost my chorizo omelet. “The dizziness is gone, my vision’s cleared, and my memory’s back.” I snatched my hand away and wiped it surreptitiously on the lime green comforter. “All I need is rest. Thanks for stopping by.”
I slid further underneath the covers and closed my eyes. A moment later, I heard the door close.
When it was safe, I peeked out from under the comforter. “Dad, you can come out now!”
He emerged from the closet. “You’re drawing too much heat. As soon as that jackass leaves the house, I’m going back to Al’s.” With that, he left, trailing a scent of lavender.
As soon as the door closed behind him, I crawled out of bed and threw on my clothes. I’d had enough of this.
The Merilee might be a mess, but at least she was my mess.
***
The next day I returned to the zoo, my hair combed carefully over the shset. “Yopot. At first it looked like I’d merely exchanged my mother’s over-protective behavior for my fellow zookeepers’ concerns, but unlike her, they got the message and backed off. All except for Zorah, who insisted on shadowing me during the early part of my rounds.
“I want to make sure you don’t keel over,” she explained, jumping down from her cart to help me lift feed buckets at the commissary.
“It was just a bump on the head.”
“Some bump. Did your mom tell you I stopped by the hospital to see you?”
I vaguely remembered my mother saying something about a big Amazon asking to see me, but I’d been too fuzzy at that point for visits. “Yes, she did, and I appreciate it. But I’m fine now. If I do start feeling sick, you’ll be the first person I radio.”
“Promise?”
“Scout’s honor.” I’d never been a Girl Scout.
She i
nspected my radio to make sure it was functioning. It was.
“Zorah, could I please get on with my work?”
With an unhappy expression, she jumped back into her cart and drove off.
Nothing would ever make me believe that a woman who cared that much for others could murder anyone, no matter the provocation. All right, so she’d once roughed up a man who had attempted to feed a razor blade to one of our animals. But murder? It simply wasn’t possible. To think of my friend facing a murder trial ... I couldn’t bear it.
I would keep searching for the truth, no matter how much danger was involved.
***