Old Bones Never Die
Page 6
She turned to look at me for a moment, then the anger she had been venting on others was directed at me.
“I know who you are. You’re the one who broke my son’s heart. And you show up here. What for? Now you feel bad, do you? Well, it’s too late. He’s dead, for all you cared about him.”
“Edith,” said the man I assumed was her husband, “Let’s go back to the hotel. You need to get some rest.”
He gave me a sad smile. “She’s distraught. It was an early flight down here and she didn’t get any sleep last night or on the plane this morning. I’m George Montgomery, her brother-in-law. My brother, Alex’s dad, is deceased.”
“I didn’t know. I’m Eve, Eve Appel, and this is my grandmother and her husband.”
“Oh, we know who you are, you bitch.” Mrs. Montgomery drew back her arm and slammed her large purse into my shoulder. I staggered backward for a moment, regained my balance and moved beyond her reach.
Montgomery gently moved his sister-in-law toward the exit, murmuring, “Let’s get you into bed.”
“We’re staying at the Hyatt,” a woman whispered in my ear. I moved one step backwards and looked into eyes the same azure as Alex’s.
“I’m his sister, Adelaide. You’ll have to forgive Mom. She’s got her own mountain of guilt over Alex’s death and looking for someone to unload it on. Call me later, and we can talk then. Time to get some happy pills into her.”
Whoa, I thought. That was a boatload more family issues than I needed to hear right now. If Mom was always this filled with vitriol, no wonder Alex didn’t say much about her.
“She’s just in shock, honey,” said Grandy. “Don’t take what she said to heart.”
Maybe. Or perhaps not, if Adelaide’s surprise confidence was accurate. I was certainly going to follow up with Adelaide before I left Miami.
“One thing is for certain,” said Max, slipping his arms around Grandy and me. “That young lad needs a better lawyer, and I say that knowing he was probably responsible for the death of a man I truly admired and liked.”
“Yes. He could use some help,” I said.
“You just stay out of this,” Grandy said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She shook her white curls and made a tsking sound.
Max drove us out of Miami and south toward Miami Beach, where we chose a New York style deli to grab some food. My appetite hadn’t returned, so I picked at the eggs on my plate then pushed away from the table.
“I’m going to take a walk down by the beach.”
Neither Grandy nor Max questioned my decision.
“Sure, honey. We’ll meet you back here in an hour.”
I cut over the short block east that led to the busy street lined with restaurants and night spots across from the sandy beach. It was still early in the day, but the “beautiful” people—those out to be noticed—sipped coffees at outside cafés, laughing and catching the eyes of others intent upon similar displays of shapely bodies and expensive clothing.
I crossed the street and stepped onto the concrete walkway, removing my shoes as I walked into the sand. The beach began to fill with sun worshippers, young men and women who wore only the briefest of clothes to enable them to perfect already dark tans. Others, including elderly singles and couples, strolled the sidewalk while families carrying beach umbrellas and chairs struggled to control young children eager to rush into the blue water. I gave the ocean only a glance, content to enjoy the breeze coming off the water and turning my thoughts inward to memories of Alex and me. Grandy was right, as usual. I had to guard against blaming myself for Alex’s death. He was here in Miami not because I rejected him or because he needed someplace outside of Sabal Bay to hide. He was here because more and more he chose to take work in the area. I sighed deeply and stopped beneath a palm tree, where I slid to the sand and leaned against its trunk. I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and dialed the Hyatt, asking for Adelaide Montgomery’s room.
Chapter 6
I was back at the deli where Grandy, Max, and I had eaten our late breakfast. The lunch crowd had left, and the place was deserted apart from two police officers who were seated at the counter drinking coffee and eating slices of pie.
I had convinced Grandy and Max that they should take a quick run to Key Largo to check on their boat while I talked with Adelaide. They agreed, Grandy relieved that rather than trying to find Jerome Singer better legal representation I was instead meeting Alex’s sister to find out about arrangements for his funeral.
Adelaide slid into the chair across the table from me. Her hair was wind-blown, fine like Alex’s but not the same light brown. I assumed she’d altered the natural color by using a red rinse. It had begun raining and the raindrops in her hair sparkled golden in the deli’s lights.
“I sneaked away while Mom was taking a nap. She wouldn’t be happy to know I was speaking to you. I’d like to say you should forgive her what she said, that she’s grieving, but she’s always had a sharp tongue and a nasty way. One thing you cannot say about her is that she’s been a good mother. Most of the time she seems oblivious to the existence of her children. She’s too wrapped up in self-pity, blaming Dad for dying on her and not leaving her enough money. She’s a bitter woman, Eve.”
“Losing her son in this way can’t be helping,” I said.
Adelaide shook her head. “You’re right, of course. Sorry for unloading family stuff on you.”
“Alex never talked about his family. I didn’t even know he had a sister.”
“We weren’t close. Alex left home soon after Dad passed. That was fifteen years ago when I was only in my teens.”
I shifted around on the hard chair and said, “Would you like to go someplace else, maybe for a drink?”
“Let’s. It’s still early so the bars should be empty.”
The rain had let up and the sun was again shining. Steam rose off the pavement as we made our way toward the beach and a restaurant I’d spotted earlier. We chose a table in the back where we wouldn’t be disturbed by servers or patrons and each ordered a glass of wine. I might have preferred my usual Scotch, but it was early even for wine.
“Tell me about Alex when he was a kid,” I said. “Where did you grow up?”
Adelaide talked about their early childhood in Virginia. Their father worked as an accountant for the local school system while their mother stayed at home. “Mostly she watched soaps on television and smoked cigarettes,” Adelaide said. They had a cleaning woman who came in once a week. Until their father died, it seemed like a pretty typical family situation, although their mother always seemed to be angry, dissatisfied with their standard of living and short-tempered when it came to the children.
“I guess we were normal kids, getting into the kind of trouble kids get into, but our antics drove Mom crazy. As soon as Alex graduated from high school, he left, and he told me I should do the same when I graduated.” Adelaide took a sip of her wine and stared across the room. “Mom guilted me into staying to take care of her. I know now what a mistake that was.”
I looked across the table at her. In her late twenties, she was attractive and clearly bright and personable. I marveled at how an unhappy parent could ruin her child’s life.
“Maybe it’s not too late. If Alex knew his death would make you rethink that choice, I think he’d be very happy.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Do you really think so?”
I reached across the table and patted her hand. “Sure.”
We continued to talk over a second glass of wine, mostly about the kind of work Adelaide might obtain if she left her mother’s home. She had followed in her father’s footsteps, earning a degree in business and working out of the house taking in accounting jobs, mostly tax-related.
“I’ve managed to save a little of the money I made, but most of it went to Mom. There always seems to be something she needs done to the house or car repairs.”
The bar began to fill with an after-work crowd eager t
o talk, laugh, and drink. It became difficult to hear each other, and we’d run out of conversation. I think Adelaide was feeling guilty about unloading all her family troubles.
“I’m talking your ear off.” She looked at her watch. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to the hotel.”
Before we left, I asked her about funeral arrangements. She told me, then gave me some advice.
“Don’t come to the funeral. Mom won’t want you there. She’ll use your presence as an excuse to start something that will make not only you but everyone else uncomfortable.”
“I’ll have to think about that. I need to say goodbye to him.”
Adelaide gave me a quick hug and said, “I know you do, but I had to warn you.”
“Thanks anyway.”
She gave me a rueful smile. “So, see you at the funeral then?”
Grandy, Max, and I drove back up the turnpike and onto the Beeline Highway to Sabal Bay. It was dark when we pulled up in front of the house, and the answering machine was blinking when we entered.
I didn’t bother checking the messages because I knew who had called. I picked up the land line and was about to dial Sammy’s number when someone knocked on the door.
I opened it to Sammy.
“Grandfather said you should be coming home about now. Could you use a canoe ride?”
I threw my arms around him and stood on tiptoes to kiss his full lips.
Yes, oh my yes!
“Be back soon,” I said to Grandy.
She gave me a knowing smile.
When Sammy opened the door of his truck, the smell of barbecued ribs wafted out from within.
“I thought you might be hungry,” Sammy said. “You usually are.”
“That is so sweet of you, but not tonight. I just want to get out on the water.” I gazed up at the night sky, dense with stars. “How is it that there are so many more stars in the sky down here than in Connecticut?”
I knew there weren’t more stars here. I knew it was simply air and light pollution in the Northeast that made it difficult to see the heavenly points of light, but I needed to believe that some of the stars, the shyer ones, had come out tonight specially to greet Sammy and me and light the way for us as he paddled down the canal to our special place.
We said little in the truck or on our way in the canoe or even when we settled on a blanket in our broken-down shack on an island in the swamp. Tonight I felt more at home here than I did at my own place. After Sammy had settled the blanket on the floor, I snuggled against his warm body. We lay there without speaking, simply taking in the comfort of each other’s presence. It was after the moon came up that we realized we hadn’t eaten the ribs, but somehow we weren’t hungry for ribs. Sammy pulled me closer into his strong arms, making the pain of Alex’s death seem to fade into the swamps.
“Sammy.” I spoke into his shoulder. “You’ve been so patient with me, with my grief, but there’s also your own. Did you have a funeral for Walter?”
“Yes. Frida came. I know the tribe didn’t want her there, but I was glad to see her. She’s not so bad for a cop. I think she truly wants to help.”
“She does. I’m sorry we had to put off visiting the pawn shops.”
“I visited a few of them after the funeral.”
I was disappointed he hadn’t waited until I could go with him, but I understood how anxious he was to track down the watch Walter said he’d found on the body.
“I found nothing, but Renfro Pawn here in Sabal Bay was closed. The old man who ran it died, and the body was sent back to Ohio, where he originally lived, to have the funeral there.”
“Will it reopen?”
“The son has been running the shop and intends to reopen the beginning of next week. I wish it could be sooner.”
For his sake, I did, too, but that did give me time to fly to Virginia to the funeral and get back here to my own shop. In the meantime, there was the phone call I needed to make to my mob boss friend, Nappi.
I shared all this with Sammy.
“Why do you need to call Nappi?” asked Sammy. I could see suspicion in his eyes. “Is it because of that kid who killed Alex?”
I nodded.
“Grandy won’t like this,” he said.
“What about you? I can’t believe you think I should get involved.”
Sammy gave me a slow smile tinged with sadness. “I know there’s nothing anyone can do when you decide to take on one of your ‘projects.’ I’d be a fool to stop you, but is Nappi the person to talk with?”
“Oh, I’m only going to ask him to recommend a good lawyer. I’m not going to get involved.”
Sammy shook his head and laughed. “No, no, of course, you aren’t, Eve.”
To change the subject, I reached behind him for the bag of ribs. “Hungry yet?”
“I am, just not for hours-old, cold, dried-out ribs. I could use a cup of hot coffee and a nice sausage and egg scramble with home fries and rye toast.”
That sounded good, so we left the ribs near the bank where we usually beached the canoe—kind of a present for the momma gator who frequented these parts. Not that she’d ever thank us and not that I recommended feeding wildlife, but perhaps she would see it as the one-time offering it was.
I flew to Richmond, Virginia, two days later, taking an early morning flight and scheduling my return trip the afternoon of the same day. The taxi I’d hired at the airport dropped me in front of the funeral home an hour before the service. I hoped the funeral director would grant me a few minutes alone with Alex. I took Adelaide’s advice to heart. I had no intention of making my presence here about me. This was for him and his family. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. To make myself less noticeable during the service, I took up a position in the back of the room in a far corner. I wore a hat to cover my spiky blonde hair, a dark, full-length raincoat, and low-heeled shoes so I wouldn’t stand heads above the rest of the mourners.
When I entered the room, I was glad for the long coat. The air was cold and smelled of the flowers draped over the end of the casket and arranged around the front. Somehow the scent of all those blooms made the temperature of the room seem more frigid. Why did arrangements for the dead seem to do that while at weddings the flowers made the room feel happy and warm? I pulled my coat around me and stood a few steps inside the entrance. Did I really want to see Alex or would it be better to remember him as he was—sometimes with a broad grin on his face. At other times his features had been pinched with irritation and aggravation as he confronted me over one of my intrusions into some case. This would be my last chance to talk to him. I squared my shoulders and walked up to the casket.
“Sweet Alex,” I said, “we did have a time of it, didn’t we? You were such a good man. I hope these last months have been happy for you.”
Someone touched my shoulder, and I whirled around, thinking it was his mother, here to give me hell for intruding on her grief. But it was Adelaide and another woman.
“I knew you’d come, Eve, and I knew you’d be careful that Mom wouldn’t see you. I have someone for you to meet.”
The woman standing beside Adelaide was about my age, much shorter and much rounder, with soft brown hair in waves that hung to her shoulders. Her eyes were also a soft brown, shiny with tears.
“This is Margaret Spaden. She was one of Alex’s classmates in school here. She now lives in Miami.”
Adelaide didn’t need to say more. I knew. Alex had found someone to love, someone from his past he reconnected with. The weight on my heart lifted. I smiled.
The woman reached for my hand. “That’s a pretty good disguise, but even without the heels, your height gives you away. Alex talked about you.” There was no bitterness or jealousy in her voice.
“We were good friends. I’ll miss him,” I said.
She nodded. We seemed to understand each other without needing words.
“Well, I think I’ll find a seat somewhere back there so the family isn’t upset.”
M
argaret smiled. “You mean so that Alex’s mom doesn’t go ballistic. She hasn’t changed since we were in high school. I feel kind of sorry for her, but she’s ill, you know.” She paused. “I mean she’s mentally ill, but she won’t go for help.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’m a psychologist. I have a small private practice in Miami. Thank you for being so sensitive about all of this.”
“I just needed to—”
“I know. Say goodbye. Of course. I’m glad you came. Alex said you were loyal to your friends.”
And Alex had been a good friend as well as a lover. Being here was what I needed to do, to be able to come through for him this one last time.
I nodded and walked to the back of the room, where I found an empty seat between two men—uniformed police officers who must have known Alex through his work. A tall man sat in the row in front of me, effectively hiding me from the gaze of anyone near the casket.
Several minutes later, Alex’s mother entered the room on the arm of her brother-in-law, Adelaide at their side.
“Is she here? Is the bitch here?” asked her mother in a loud voice. “I won’t have it, you know.” She twisted her head in every direction, searching the far corners of the room. I slid down lower in my seat.
Adelaide and her uncle quieted the woman and seated her in the front row. Just when it seemed she had settled down, she jumped up and went to the casket.
“You were a shitty son, d’ya know that? You abandoned me and left me here with your useless sister.”
I sighed deeply. I’d done what I came to do, said goodbye to Alex. I’d even been given a surprise gift out of this. I now knew Alex had reconnected with Margaret, and the two of them had found some measure of happiness in the last several months. Good for you, Alex, I thought as I slid from my seat and slipped out of the back door.
The day I’d heard about Alex I promised myself that I’d get my PI license. I’d finally let the world know I was more than a snoopy gal who loved a bargain. I was a professional sleuth. The first step was to return to Crusty McNabb’s office and inform him of my intentions. As much of an old curmudgeon as Crusty was, I trusted Alex’s recommendation of him as a possible mentor. As was so often the case in my life, that visit would have to wait because I’d neglected my responsibilities at the shop, actually both shops. With Madeleine tied up in baby feedings and changing and all the duties that went with two new ones, I’d relied on Grandy to open the shop in the strip mall and left the motor home, our store on wheels, sitting idle in the local flea market where we usually parked it. Shelley had volunteered to take over the shop and let Grandy pilot the motor home to the coast to sell on the weekend, but it contained so little merchandise that it seemed not to be worth the gas it would take to drive the thirty miles there and same distance back. If I didn’t step up and visit our ladies in West Palm to procure some clothing and household items, we would soon find ourselves with nothing to sell. I pushed my grief over Alex’s death into the back of my mind and put the PI license on hold. I had to focus on the business and also accompany Sammy to the pawn shops he hadn’t already visited to look for the pocket watch he was sure was his father’s. Frida had entrusted this work to me, and I wanted to do it well, to prove to her and to myself that I had the stuff to work the clues, to be professional about my assignment. I was determined to lay the groundwork for my future.