Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue

by Marty Ambrose

  Somehow I’d known she’d say something like that.

  “You can’t mess with fate,” Jimmy added.

  “Bad karma” Sandy nodded sagely. “Madame Geri can help and protect you, Mallie.”

  I blinked a couple of times, hoping that I was merely hallucinating from an overindulgence of donuts and caffeine. No such luck. Madame Geri was still parked next to my desk, her bird giving me the evil eye.

  “Does Anita know about this?” I asked in desperation. When in doubt, evoke Anita’s name-it was always guaranteed to dampen any group’s optimism.

  “She sure does”

  I didn’t need to turn around. I knew that gravelly voice only too well. She motioned at me with her bony fingers.

  Silently I trudged into my boss’ office.

  Once Anita shut the door, I turned to her. “You’ve got to be kidding. You actually want me to haul around that pseudo-psychic?”

  “Sure do” She seated herself at her desk and folded her arms.

  “Why?”

  “Look, kiddo. I don’t believe she’s psychic any more than the man in moon, but people talk to her. They tell her things they wouldn’t tell their own mothers. And somewhere in all that touchy-feely garbage could be a gem of truth-maybe even the reason Tom Crawford was killed.”

  “How did you find out he was murdered?”

  “I never reveal a source.” She smiled. I swallowed hard. In spite of her trying to cut out the cigarettes, after twenty years of chain smoking, her teeth weren’t a pretty sight.

  “Take Madame Geri with you for a couple of days. See if she can dig up any gossip. If nothing turns up, dump her. And don’t forget, I gotta have the initial story about Kevin’s rescue and his father’s possible homicide by the end of the day. Keep your eye on the ball, kiddo.” Anita waved me out of her office. Sentimental, she wasn’t.

  I exited, closing the door with a distinct thud to let her know I wasn’t happy with the prospect of babysitting a New Age quack. I heard a short bark of laughter in response. I gritted my teeth. There was no use fighting it; once Anita made up her mind, I had to do it.

  “Looks like it’s you and me, Madame Geri.” I moved toward my desk.

  “And Marley” She stroked the turquoise feathers of her beady-eyed bird.

  “No way. No birds in my truck.” I dug around in my drawer until I found an unused notepad.

  Marley squawked, and I jumped back, dropping the pad. “Well … maybe he can ride along, but don’t let him do anything weird.”

  She pursed her mouth. “My bird is well trained. He does only what I tell him to do”

  “Oh” I made a mental note not to anger Madame Geri. I didn’t want Marley pecking out my eyes before lunchtime.

  “I want to see Tom’s boat” Madame Geri stood up, clutching her leather bag to her chest. Then she tottered toward the door, with Marley firmly fixed on his perch, and I wondered if his claws were digging into her shoulders. Ouch.

  “Let’s get a move on. Time’s a wastin’.” Madame Geri used her hip to nudge open the door.

  I leveled my own version of a beady-eyed glance in Sandy’s direction. She gave a sheepish shrug. Surrendering to the inevitable, I vowed to take revenge on Sandy later by cutting off the price tags from the next outfit she wore into the office.

  I led Madame Geri to my truck, keeping a healthy distance between Marley and me.

  “Nice set of wheels,” she commented as she climbed into the passenger seat. Marley tucked his head under a wing and shifted to the other shoulder so she could fasten the seat belt.

  Oh, goody. Now he was on my side. He’d have quick access if he wanted to peck out my eyes.

  I slid into the driver’s seat, leaning as far to the left as I could without actually hanging out the window. I cranked up the engine and backed out of the parking lot, aware of every feather movement.

  “Look, Madame Geri, I think you and I should put our cards on the table-and I don’t mean Tarot” I pressed down the gas pedal, causing Rusty to peak at his top speed of 50mph and, with it, my motormouth kicked into gear. “I don’t believe in psychics. I worked for a so-called psychic hotline for a while, and I know what goes on there. The whole purpose of my job was to keep people talking so they’d rack up a lot of minutes. The longer they were on the phone, the more money the company made. I never met a single person at the hotline who could predict the future-including me. The only thing we knew for sure was that we’d be fired if we didn’t make a certain quota every day. I’m not proud of what I did. All I can say is, I was be tween jobs and needed the money….” The story of my life.

  “Did you hurt anybody?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Then what was the harm?”

  I thought for a few seconds. “I pretended to be something I wasn’t. Tried to convince people to confide in me so I could make money off them.”

  “Bah.” She shrugged. “They knew you weren’t a psychic. They wanted an ear to listen to them. And you fit the bill. Everyone ended up with what they wanted”

  “You sound more like a pragmatist than a psychic.”

  “Same thing. I see the world as it is, not the way people want it to be. That’s psychic and practical.”

  “So you don’t just tell people what they want to hear?” Hah. Answer that with a straight face.

  She shook her head. “The spirit world would never let me. And it doesn’t pay to anger the spirits.”

  “What would they do? Flip on your TV in the middle of the night?”

  Her fingers tapped my arm, and she nodded knowingly. “‘There’s more in heaven and earth than you’ve ever dreamed of’ …Shakespeare. Your favorite poet.”

  “Good guess.” How in the world did she know that? “Sandy must’ve told you I was a comparative literature major in a previous life.”

  “No. She didn’t.” Madame Geri closed her eyes and leaned back against the tattered headrest. “Believing in something greater than yourself scares you, but your fears make you foolish. Your task in this life is to deepen your spirituality … connect on the soul level. But you’ll only do it if you stop-“

  “And smell the roses?” I cut in, refusing to hear any more of her half-baked predictions. They were nutty, off-the-wall and, all of a sudden, way too close to the truth. “I’m not interested in your psychobabble.”

  “Suit yourself.” Her eyelids rose once more. “But if you want a Tarot reading sometime, I’ll fill you in on what you need to know”

  “Thanks-I may take you up on that offer sometime.” When hell freezes over.

  Speaking of freezing … I cranked up Rusty’s heater. We rode the rest of the way in silence punctuated only by periodic squawks from Marley when he spotted other birds outside the truck. The sounds reverberated through Rusty’s small cab, and I was ready to toss him and Madame Geri out the door by the time we reached the Trade Winds Marina.

  “Here we are” I parked by the docks. Marley emitted another eardrum-piercing squawk when he spied the pelicans, and I jumped out of Rusty before he had a chance to damage my hearing any further.

  “Hey, Mallie!” someone shouted.

  I turned toward the office and saw Pete Cresswell striding toward me.

  “Have you recovered from your boat trip?” he asked as he grinned and engulfed me in a bear hug.

  “Almost.”

  “What’s up?”

  “You not going to believe this, but I got stuck with the island psychic as a sidekick.” I scanned the docks. “Where’s Tom’s boat? I need to look at it.”

  “I guess it would be okay. Nick Billie already had it checked out early this morning as a crime scene and removed the yellow tape” He frowned. “Sad to think somebody killed Tom”

  At that point, Madame Geri made an appearance, sans Marley, her heels tapping a staccato beat on the wooden docks.

  “Madame Geri,” Pete said, a note of awe touching his voice, as if he’d acknowledged royalty. “It’s an honor.”

  “N
ot you too?” I murmured under my breath.

  “We need to see the boat, please.” Madame Geri spoke in a regal tone.

  Pete offered his arm and escorted her down the docks.

  I trailed behind them, mumbling to myself.

  When we reached the small, run-down fishing boat, Madame Geri released Pete’s arm and paced back and forth in front of the vessel. What is that supposed to do?

  “How in the world were you able to persuade Madame Geri to work with you?” Pete asked.

  I grimaced. “Made her an offer she couldn’t refuse?”

  Pete flashed a warning glance in my direction. “Madame Geri knows her stuff. If anyone can find out what happened to Tom, she can”

  “Oh, please,” I moaned. “What hold does this woman have over the island?”

  “We respect her. She’s a true psychic.”

  “So everybody keeps telling me” I watched as Madame Geri reached into her leather bag and pulled out a crystal on a string. “Got any ideas on who might’ve killed Tom?”

  “I can’t say for sure … all I’ve heard is gossip. But some of the guys around the docks said Sally Jo was seeing somebody on the side.”

  “You know who?”

  “Nope. But you might stop by the Seafood Shanty and talk to Nora. She might know”

  “Okay. We’ll head over there for lunch after we wrap it up here.” I pulled out my Official Reporter’s Notepad. “What about Jake Fowler? I heard he hated Tom because their clam farm went belly up.”

  Pete nodded. “Jake sure was sore about that … but I don’t know if he was mad enough to kill Tom”

  “When I met Jake at the elementary school with his son, he seemed to have quite a temper.”

  “Guess so. But Tom was no angel, either-especially when he’d had too many beers”

  “According to Wanda Sue, he was on the wagon,” I informed him. “You know where I can find Jake?”

  Pete looked over his left shoulder at the large boats docked near the marina office. “His shrimp boat is in…. He might be at the Seafood Shanty for lunch. A lot of the fishermen hang out there. Again-check with Nora”

  “Gotcha” I jotted down a few notes and tossed the pad into my canvas bag.

  Madame Geri began chanting and waving the crystal.

  “May I go aboard?” I asked.

  “Sure” Pete helped me onto the boat. Once there, I strolled toward the open deck in the back. The bow? Stern? I forgot. Whatever it was called, I nosed around it. Surprisingly, for such an aging vessel, it was clean and orderly. The fishing nets rested neatly stacked on one side. Two pairs of “island Reeboks” were aligned behind the captain’s chair. Tackle boxes were open, but lures and hooks had been placed with care in their appropriate sections. One thing was certain-Tom kept a tidy boat.

  I peered into the small cabin. Nothing much there, either. Just a few Styrofoam cups on the counter and a coffeepot, still holding remnants of a previously made brew.

  Nothing out of the ordinary to suggest that a struggle had taken place on the boat.

  All at once Madame Geri let out a loud scream.

  What now?

  I dashed to the back of the boat and beheld Madame Geri, standing on the dock with her eyes closed and features contorted in pain, yelling at the top of her lungs.

  “What’s happening? Are you all right?” I hopped off the boat and raced to where she stood.

  “I see water … death!” she wailed.

  So tell me something I don’t know. “Please. Quiet down. They’re going to call the police if you keep this up.

  Actually, the fishermen at their nets had offered a flicker of interest, then returned to their work.

  They obviously knew Madame Geri.

  She lowered her volume to a soft moan.

  “What did you see?” I asked.

  “Water … panic … loss. His entire life passed through his mind the last few moments. He didn’t want to lose his son, his wife. It was all gone. All over.. She shuddered and moaned, her head swaying back and forth.

  “Can you take it back a little further in time? How did he end up in the water?”

  Madame Geri peeped open one eye. “Don’t rush the spirits. They’ll give me information when they’re good and ready.” The eye snapped shut again.

  I gritted my teeth and waited.

  She dropped her chin to her chest and chanted a few unintelligible words. “A sharp pain. Yes, a pain in the back of the head. It hurt so much. The world exploded in a shower of colors…” She winced as though in pain. “Why?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” I murmured under my breath. Okay, so Madame Geri’s contacts were disembodied spirits, but did they have to be so obtuse? “Could you ask them who hit Tom on the head?”

  “Nope” She shook herself and opened her eyes. “That’s all for today”

  “The spirit world seems a bit capricious,” I said.

  “They live in a different dimension, governed by different rules. We can’t pretend to understand their intent.”

  “If you say so” And with Madame Geri as their sole contact with the human world, I probably had very little chance of learning anything that would help me solve Tom’s murder. “I checked out the boat but didn’t find-“

  She clucked her tongue and brushed past me. Craning her neck over the side of the boat, she scanned the deck. “What’s that?”

  I followed her pointed finger. Wedged in a corner, half covered by an ice chest, was a brightly colored fishing fly. I jumped back onto the boat and retrieved it. “It’s odd … sort of a fishlike shape attached to a hook”

  Madame Geri studied it. “It’s a deceiver.”

  “A what?”

  “A deceiver. Tubing along the shank with side wings. Yup, it’s a deceiver, all right.”

  “I take it a deceiver is a kind of fishing fly,” I said with some asperity.

  She nodded. “A very special kind of fly. It’s made to appear like live bait to fool larger fish”

  “Oh, I get it now. It `deceives’ the fish into thinking it’s alive.” I turned it over in my palm. “Is it handmade? I mean, could Tom have made it?”

  “Not unless he was a skilled fly maker. This particular one took a lot of time and effort-it’s handcrafted with real feathers. Most of the men on this island make flies, but just your basic designs.”

  Cautious, I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know all this?”

  “My father was a fisherman”

  “Oh.” Who’d’ve thunk it? “So someone might’ve given him this fly … someone who knew how to make such an elaborate one?”

  “That would be my guess.”

  I stroked the white and chartreuse feathers, careful to avoid the hook. “Who would know how to make a lure like this?”

  She shrugged. “Someone who’s spent a lifetime learning the craft. A master fly builder.”

  “Can you contact the spirit world for a name and telephone number?”

  Madame Geri’s eyes narrowed. “It isn’t good karma to joke about the next world”

  “I don’t take this world seriously, so why should I take the next one as anything more than a joke?”

  She smiled. “Life has a lot of lessons for you. Not all of them are going to be to your liking.” Without another word, she tottered toward Rusty.

  I was left with the deceiver in my palm and not a snappy comeback in sight. Wouldn’t you know?

  Half an hour later, we pulled up to the Seafood Shanty. I needed food, and I wanted to follow up on Pete’s tip that I talk to his wife, Nora. If Sally Jo had been having an affair, Nora would know. As a waitress at the Shanty, she had a pipeline to every dirty little secret on Coral Island and then some. And I wanted to question Jake Fowler if he were there.

  I accepted the futility of trying to dump Madame Geri and simply escorted her inside. Marley remained in the truck again, thank goodness.

  “Hey, Mallie, how’s it going?” Nora waved me over to a small table in the back
of the large dining room. The Seafood Shanty boasted a nautical decor, complete with fishing nets draped across the ceiling and anchors hanging on the wall behind the bar. The owners had tried to attract a higher class of tourist clientele by painting FAMILY RESTAURANT on the outside, but the place was still largely home to fishermen and bikers.

  Today it was almost deserted, except for a few fishermen huddled around a table in the back of the room. Bingo. I spied Jake Fowler’s crew cut and harsh features.

  Nora hugged me. She looked great. Her previously brassy blond hair had grown out to its normal shade of chestnut, and her skin glowed. When I pulled back, her gaze moved toward my companion. Her eyes widened. “Madame Geri, so nice to see you.”

  My psychic companion inclined her head.

  Nora pulled out a chair for Madame Geri, and she settled into it, folding her hands with almost regal composure. She was a queen all right-a monarch of mystic mumbo jumbo.

  “What can I get for you?” Nora handed us menus.

  We each ordered one of the few edible items: a cheeseburger with fries. I didn’t even have time to request coffee before Nora grabbed the menus, saying, “I’ll put on a new pot for you”

  I smiled in gratitude.

  Nora reappeared in no time with our drinks. As she set a steaming cup of java in front of me, my mood improved tenfold.

  “Here’s your coffee, Madame Geri. I brought some fresh milk and two packets of sugar. I know how you like yours extra sweet” Nora acted as if she were serving a celebrity. Jeez.

  “That’s just fine. Thanks.” Madame Geri stirred in the milk and sugar, then took a sip and scanned Nora. “When are you due?”

  Nora’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know? We haven’t told anyone-“

  Madame Geri smiled.

  “Due? What do you mean?” I looked from one to the other. “Are you-“

  “Pregnant” Nora nodded with a soft curve to her lips. “Just found out two days ago. I’m due in July.”

  Madame Geri touched Nora’s stomach. “You want to know if it’s a boy or girl?”

  “Nope. We want to be surprised.”

  “I don’t blame you” She removed her hand. “The baby’s healthy … that’s the important thing.”

  “It sure is.”