Mud Bog Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “I thought you were staying in West Palm,” I said, opening the door to him.

  “I stayed here last night.”

  “As in Sabal Bay,” I said, knowing better than to question him further.

  I grabbed a coffee and stuffed a pastry into my mouth, savoring the simple carbs with all the relief of a drowning person being tugged to shore by a lifeguard.

  “Can this be fixed?” I asked, holding up my broken bedroom phone for Nappi. He shook his head.

  After I’d arrived home earlier I’d been awake enough to remember to put my cell phone on charge, so I got the county’s wildlife and game number to contact them about the alligator. As I waited for someone to answer, I filled Nappi in on the details.

  At the connect, I reported the reptile, and the person on the other end chuckled and said, “Maybe it’s a female looking for something classy to wear.”

  Everybody had a joke.

  “Just get it out of there before it poops all over the place.”

  “How big was it?”

  “I don’t know. Big, really big.”

  “About a size sixteen then?”

  And another one.

  “Ha, Ha. How soon before you get here? The cops need to take a look at the place.”

  “I’ll send Gator Gus right on over. Can you meet him there?”

  “Can’t he do this by himself? I’m not going to help him, am I?’

  There was the sound of an impatient sigh from the woman talking to me. “No, ma’am, but we do need permission from you to enter the premises.”

  “And does the alligator have to sign off on his capture, too?” I asked.

  The lady hung up on me.

  The front door was flung open, and Grandy stood in the doorway. For those who haven’t met her, she is the woman who raised me from the time I was nine years old when my parents were killed in a boating accident on Long Island Sound. She was as short and round as I was tall and skinny, but that’s where the differences ended. We were both sassy, in-your-face, never-back-down women. She was better at attitude than I was. She’d had more practice.

  “It seems I arrived just in time. What is going on, Eve? You look as unappetizing as yesterday’s oatmeal.” She dumped her suitcase on the living room floor and hugged me. Then, sniffing the air, she made a beeline for the pastries.

  “Nappi,” she said on her way to sugar heaven. She blew him a kiss and perused the donuts.

  “I thought you and Max were too busy with charters this weekend for you to come up.”

  “Yesterday we were slammed, but today we had two cancellations. Besides,” she said, puffing powdered sugar out her mouth, “it would seem there’s more than just your business that could use my help.”

  “I think I’ve got everything under control for now,” I said. That was Eve bravado speaking. I was secretly glad to see her. Whatever I couldn’t get on top of, I knew she could.

  “Really, Eve? Let’s see now …. Someone you knew and disagreed with was killed and you and Madeleine were protesting how she was using her land and then you found an alligator in your shop. The only good news is that Madeleine is pregnant. Somehow you’ll get yourself up to your bangle bracelets in this murder investigation, won’t you? Thank goodness Nappi found you and the Egrets a good lawyer.” She paused for another bite of a chocolate-covered donut.

  “That’s about it, although I wonder how you found out so much in such a short period of time,” I said. “Even Nappi didn’t know all that until just now.”

  “I have friends in high and low places, Eve. Just like you, although I suspect with your background and your participation in that protest yesterday, some of your local friends might be rethinking their connection to you and Madeleine.”

  I waved my hand back and forth to silence her. Nappi looked puzzled by her reference to my “background.”

  “I get it. Haven’t told everybody everything yet, huh? Not Nappi, not your lawyer, not Alex, not Frida—in fact, not anyone around here. Okay, it’s your story. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  There was a knock on the door. I opened it to Frida.

  “Uh-oh. Did the alligator kill someone and now I’m being arrested for harboring a criminal?” I asked. “Come on in. I think there are some donuts left. Or is that an insult to your profession?”

  Frida gave me a snarky little smile, nodded at Nappi and crossed the room to envelop Grandy in a big hug. She then reached into the box and extracted a pastry.

  “It’s my day off. I hoped to catch you before you left for the store. I’m just dying to see this alligator roaming around the place.”

  I held up my finger to signal silence. “Don’t you dare make a joke about whether it’s shopping in there.”

  “Of course not,” she replied. “I’m just worried about your reputation.”

  “My what?”

  “You know. You sell used items, including alligator shoes and boots, but this looks as if you’re intending to skin him and sell new. Not your line of merchandise, Eve.”

  She bit down on the donut and grinned, showing sprinkle-covered teeth.

  Chapter 7

  There was one little task I’d neglected, an important one. I hadn’t let Madeleine know about our late-night visitor to the shop. So I let Grandy drive my car while I called Madeleine on my cellphone.

  “Did I wake you, honey?” I asked when I heard her voice.

  “Nope, I was up already, busily tossing my cookies as usual. God, Eve, I hope I don’t grow to hate this baby before it’s even born. Morning sickness is the pits. Hold a minute, would you?” I heard a door close, a sound like someone being sick, a toilet flush, and then Madeleine came back on the line.

  “I hope that’s it for a while.”

  “There’s some news about the shop you should know.”

  “I’m guessing it’s not good or you wouldn’t be calling me at this early hour. You’re not a morning gal. Is it about the contractors? Are they going to delay another week or so?”

  “There may be a delay of sorts, depending upon the outcome.”

  “Eve, get to the punch line before I’m sick again.”

  “There’s an alligator in the shop.”

  There was a long pause on the line. Finally she said, “Not some alligator shoes or an alligator bag, but an actual reptile, living and breathing?”

  “And hissing and probably pooping all over. I’m meeting an alligator guy there now, and the cops.”

  Grandy made the turn into the shop parking lot. I quickly filled Madeleine in on what Sammy and I had found last night, then disconnected to let her take another bathroom break.

  A beat-up truck, painted camouflage, was parked in front of the building. Leaning against it was a guy, age and facial features indeterminate because of the shaggy salt and pepper hair and the beard that covered his face. He wore baggy camouflage trousers, an oversized T-shirt, and scuffed-up leather boots.

  “You the lady with the alligator?” he asked me as I got out of my car and walked over to him.

  “Yes. I’d like you to remove him, if you would.”

  “Miss Sally took the call. She said it was a secondhand store. So is this alligator a hand-me-down too? You get it from a friend maybe?” He smiled and laughed, a sound like a snorting pig. The sight of him tee-heeing at my expense was not pleasant. His teeth were stained brown, some broken off. He let go with a huge glob of tobacco juice, which he spat to one side. “Watch yer feet. Sorry ’bout that.”

  “Hi, Gus,” called Frida as she jumped out of her car.

  “Miss Frida, how you doing?” He took off the Aussie-style hat—brim pulled up on one side, camouflage also—and dipped his head to Frida.

  “Howdy, Gus. Never too early to grab critters, I guess,” Frida said.

  Two officers arrived in a blue and gold patrol car, greeted Gus and Frida, and threw the rest of us a curt greeting.

  Sammy pulled up in his truck and said a cheery hello. He and Gus did a man hug and slapped each other on
the back.

  Any more arrivals and we’d have to park the cars in overflow.

  “Ah, Mister …. What is your name, anyway? I’m Eve Appel, owner of this shop.”

  “Just call me Gus. Let’s go see about this gator of yours.”

  “He’s not my gator.”

  “What’s he doing in your shop then?”

  I groaned. “Do I look like the kind of person who keeps an alligator as a pet?”

  Gus stared at me for a minute or more. “I can’t rightly say about that, but you do look kinda different, like you might have some funny ideas about selling stuff around here. You can’t sell alligators, you know.”

  I gave up. “Just follow me, Gus.” I led the way to the shop’s side door, pushed it open with my foot, and stood back while Gus preceded me into the shop.

  The morning light was weak, but strong enough to reveal our resident reptile, up against the far wall, looking displeased with the man approaching him.

  “Well, that’s just a bitty one, only about four feet or less. No problem.” Gus dangled a rope with a noose over the creature and when it looked up, pulled the noose over the head and tightened it around the jaws to prevent them from opening. “Hold this,” he said, handing me the rope, “and don’t let that noose slip off.”

  “Hey, I’m not ….” I grabbed the rope and held it taut. The alligator started toward me.

  Gus leaped toward his prey and onto its back. Throwing a towel over its eyes, he clasped his hands around the jaws and extracted duct tape from his pocket. He wrapped the tape around the mouth to keep it closed, then picked up the animal, removed the noose, and carried the gator to his truck. I followed him, the rope dangling from my hand.

  Without another word, he placed the gator in the back, jumped into the cab, and drove off. I stood with my mouth open and continued to hold the rope. The truck belched black smoke as it pulled onto the road. Suddenly the brake lights came on, and it backed up into the parking lot, turned, and reversed across the lot.

  “I’ll take that,” he said, rolling down his window and grabbing the rope out of my hands. The gears ground as he shifted again into forward and the truck sped off once more with a backfire of smoke and sparks.

  “Best gator trapper in the county,” said Frida. “You’re lucky he was available. You can close your mouth now, Eve.”

  I took a gulp of air and kind of shook myself back to the present.

  The officers examined the door and said the lock was broken by someone slamming something heavy into it.

  “That’s how they got in,” one of them said.

  Duh. Sammy and I already had determined that last night.

  David and Madeleine arrived in time to see Gus drive off with his catch.

  “Was that our animal rescuer?” Madeleine pointed to the cloud of black smoke that rose from the street behind the departing vehicle.

  “It seems more likely he rescued the shop rather than the animal,” observed Nappi.

  The whole crowd from the parking lot and a few others curious about the police car pushed into the shop behind Madeleine and me.

  “Anything missing?” asked the officer who’d so cleverly determined the manner of ingress.

  “There was nothing here. Yet,” I said.

  “Lucky,” said Frida.

  “Oops, watch that,” said Sammy. “Looks like the gator left you a present.”

  He’d spoken too late. I had planted my almost new emu-skin boots into the alligator’s gift.

  I lifted my boot. “Ugh. Now I’ll have to throw these out.”

  “You can clean them,” said Frida.

  “Never,” I replied.

  Madeleine and I needed to talk about our business, but first I called some commercial cleaners to come in and use industrial strength detergents on the floor and giant fans to blow out the smell of the chemicals and what was left of the gator’s scent. I’d believe they’d done the job only after the air passed my sniff test. David insisted we go back to the house at the hunting reserve to have our discussion. He and Madeleine were still living in her house in town, but planned to move to the ranch soon.

  “The fridge is still stocked with food. We can have breakfast out there,” he said.

  “It’s nearly time to open the motor-home shop,” said Madeleine. “I know you don’t want me working, but someone has to be there.”

  “I’ll do that,” said Grandy.

  “And I’ll drive her there,” offered Frida. “I could do a little shopping. I haven’t been in the shop to browse for weeks.”

  Since Sammy was working part-time at the ranch as foreman, I followed his truck back to the David’s ranch.

  “Gangway!” cried Madeleine. “I’ve got dibs on the bathroom.” She rushed into the house before anyone else could get a foot out of their vehicle.

  Before Madeleine came out of the bathroom, I wanted to say a few words to David.

  “I realize you want the best for her and your baby. I know she looks like a little, helpless gal, but she’s a grown woman with almost as much pluck as Grandy. Don’t treat her like a kid. Let her make her own mind up about how she’s going to handle this pregnancy.”

  David’s face reddened. Uh-oh. I was about to be banned from the house.

  He approached me and reached out with both hands. No, I was wrong. He was going to toss me out bodily. To my surprise, he enveloped me in a hug.

  “You’re right, Eve. She is a grown woman who knows her own mind. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Reminding you of what?” Madeleine closed the bathroom door and turned toward the kitchen.

  “Reminding me that I need to buy some more crackers for you to settle your stomach.”

  Madeleine gave David a look filled with suspicion, then shrugged. “Later. Right now I’m starving. I want bacon, eggs, and pancakes. What do you say? Who wants to join me?”

  As it turned out, David, Sammy, and I watched in awe as Madeleine tore through two eggs, four slices of bacon, and a stack of pancakes. Sammy did the cooking while Madeleine and I talked business. She and I decided, with David’s support, that nothing would change in our shops unless Madeleine said she couldn’t work. If and when that happened, we’d figure out something. We put off deciding whether to return the motor home to Nappi, since we didn’t know when the other shop could open. I called the foreman of the crew we’d hired to renovate the shop. He said the renovations would be delayed. Again. When I tried to pin them down on a restart time, he was vague.

  “Soon. Maybe next week,” he said. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

  Driving back to the motor home to see how Grandy was faring, I thought about Jenny’s murder. I trusted Frida’s skill as a homicide detective, but not as much as I trusted my own nosiness and ability to annoy people enough that they’d tell me stuff just to get rid of me. I wanted to find out the name of Jenny’s fiancé, since Jenny and Shelley both said he was against Jenny’s signing that contract for the mud bog races on her property. That hardly seemed like a strong motive for murder for a man who was going to marry the victim, but who could say how a killer’s mind worked? Who benefits from Jenny’s death? I wondered. Probably Shelley. Or perhaps the fiancé. Love could make people incautious. Frida probably knew the answers to all these questions, but she wasn’t going to share her knowledge with me. Still, Frida said she had the day off. That didn’t mean the case simply shut down. Her junior partner Linc Tooney would be working the leads. If Linc hadn’t left home for work yet this morning, maybe I could cruise on by his place. I’d park around the corner, wait for him to go to work, then follow him wherever he went.

  “Grandy,” I said, connecting on my cell, “can you manage the shop by yourself today? I’ve got some business to attend to. What? No, I’m not interfering in Frida’s case.” After I ended the call, I uncrossed my fingers and headed for the trailer park where Linc lived. Darn. I’d almost forgotten Shelley said she would stop by the shop this morning when we opened. I checked my watch. I had
just enough time to check on what Linc was doing and then drop by the shop. I’d ask Shelley who the fiancé was. Simple. We’d see how the day rolled out. I turned up the local country station and pressed on the accelerator in anticipation of an adventure to come.

  Linc’s old blue Buick sat in front of his trailer. I pulled my Mustang in around the corner from the road running past his house and waited. I’d only taken one sip of the coffee bought at the drive-thru when I spied Linc in my rearview mirror. He locked his front door, got into the car, and drove down the road, pulling into the street that ran past the trailer park. My heart did a flip-flop of joy when he pointed his vehicle in the opposite direction of the police station. I followed, careful to keep a few cars between his and mine. At the stoplight in the center of town, he turned left onto Highway 441 and increased his speed as we left Sabal Bay. Few cars were on the road, and I worried he’d make my distinctive Mustang in his mirror, but he continued at speed limit until he got to the country route that was the shortcut leading to Fort Pierce on the coast. This was the way to David’s hunting ranch, where I’d already been earlier. What the heck? Sure enough, he turned into the ranch. Curious, I followed. He’d parked his car in front of the house and was heading to the door when I pulled in behind him.

  “Not following me, are you, Eve?” He gave me a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. Was he onto me?

  “Nope, just visiting my friends.” I walked with him up the steps. He knocked.

  David came to the door and looked surprised at my presence.

  “What are you doing here? Not that we don’t love seeing you, Eve.”

  I signaled him with a twirling motion of my eyes followed by a twist of my neck and shoulders, which I hoped translated into “Don’t say a thing.”

  Though puzzled, David invited us both in.

  Madeleine was lying on the couch eating something in a box that looked as if it housed chocolates.

  “Hi again, Eve.” She waved from the couch. “Want a piece?” She held the box out to me.