Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue

by Marty Ambrose

  I listened with bewilderment. What the heck was going on?

  “Being on your feet all day might be a strain during the pregnancy,” Madame Geri pointed out.

  “That’s what Pete and I thought. I got my GED. a few weeks ago, so I’m going to work in the marina office as a bookkeeper. I always was good with figures.”

  “That’s great, Nora” I finally found my voice.

  She beamed. “I’ll be back with your order in two shakes” As she moved away, I noticed a perky lilt to her step.

  “Okay-dish” I placed my palms on the table. “Who told you about the pregnancy?”

  “The baby, of course”

  “The baby?” I laughed.

  “He spoke to me the minute we arrived. Told me how happy he will be to have parents like Nora and Pete. I think he’s very lucky.” She placed a finger to her lips. “Don’t breathe a word that I let slip it’s a boy.”

  My chin dropped to my chest. “I give up. You should win an Academy Award,” I mumbled, half to myself.

  We drank our coffee in silence.

  In a short time Nora served our lunches. My mouth watered at the sight of my charbroiled cheeseburger. The Seafood Shanty was a tad on the dingy side, but their burgers were second to none. Madame Geri gave a gracious nod for her similar repast.

  “Nora, can you spare us a few minutes?” I settled the paper towel, which passed for a napkin, on my lap.

  “Sure, honey” She set her tray on a nearby empty table. “We’re hardly going gangbusters today.” She seated herself between Madame Geri and me.

  I took a bite of my cheeseburger and swallowed in delight. “You probably heard about Tom Crawford.”

  Nora’s face stilled and grew serious. “Yeah. What a cryin’ shame.”

  “I talked with Detective Billie this morning and … well, do you know anyone who might have had a grudge against Tom?” I poured ketchup over my fries.

  Nora’s mouth tightened. “Frank King.”

  “Who’s he?” I immediately pulled my notepad out of my canvas bag.

  “A no-good, wife-stealing jerk” Nora’s mouth drew into a tight line.

  I dug out my pen, downing a few fries on the way. “Could you be more specific?”

  “He’s a local fisherman who started hitting on Sally Jo the moment she and Tom separated. I swear, that man was like a shark circling its prey … just waiting for the right moment to make his move. And with Sally Jo being so vulnerable . . ” She waved a hand in disgust.

  “Were they having an affair?”

  “Can’t say for sure, but if I had to give an opinion, it would be yes.”

  “You think Frank was in love with Sally Jo?” I picked up my cheeseburger and took a few more bites.

  “Dunno. But he sure was taken with her. Always has been. They were high school sweethearts, but she broke up with him when she started going out with Tom.”

  I paused midbite, remembering Sam’s words: “Lust might be motivation for murder.”

  Nora turned to Madame Geri, who’d been quietly consuming her lunch, and asked, “What do you think?”

  “Unclear. The spirits haven’t passed anything on to me yet.” She glanced at me. “I’ll let you know when they do”

  “Thanks. I, for one, will be waiting with bated breath,” I said dryly, then turned to Nora. “Where can I find Frank? I’d like to talk to him.”

  “He runs the Fish and Bait Shoppe next to the Trade Winds Marina. He’s usually there every day”

  “Thanks” I reached into my canvas bag and pulled out the fishing fly. “Hey, since Pete is a fisherman, could you tell me on the QT if you’ve seen something like this before?”

  “Nice deceiver.” She let out a low whistle of appreciation. “Looks handmade and first rate”

  “You know who could’ve made it?”

  “Lots of guys on the island make flies.” She touched the feathers. “But only one person I know has the skill to make a deceiver like this-Frank King.”

  “You don’t say.” I wrapped the fishing fly in a napkin and placed it back in my canvas bag. “Do you think Tom would’ve let Frank come aboard his boat under any circumstances?” I offered Nora some French fries, hoping she wouldn’t ask me to reveal any details about Tom’s death.

  “Sure. They were friends … worked on the shrimp boats together.” Nora helped herself to a couple of fries.

  “What about Jake Fowler? Would Tom have let him aboard?”

  “Jake?” Her eyebrows arched. “No way. They hated each other.”

  “And I take it Tom didn’t know that Frank might’ve been seeing Sally Jo on the side.”

  “You got it.” She nodded with a knowing smile. “Tom was totally in the dark about that. But you know menthey’re clueless”

  “Tell me about it.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Like a certain tall, dark, and handsome detective?” Nora’s eyes sparkled with deliberate intent. “What do you think, Madame Geri? Would Mallie and Nick Billie make a good couple? Let’s see. Mallie Billie? Nah”

  “Nora .. ” I warned. The last thing I needed was the island’s freelance psychic assessing my love life-or lack thereof. “How ‘bout the check?” I reached into my canvas bag for my wallet.

  “It’s on the house”

  “What?”

  “My boss would never let Madame Geri pay for her own lunch. Her predictions saved him a ton of money last year when she told him to have the plumbing checked at his house. Turns out all the pipes were corroded and ready to burst. He would’ve had a lot of water damage if he hadn’t listened to her.” Nora moved off toward the kitchen.

  I glanced at Madame Geri. She nodded, a selfsatisfied expression on her face. This was her territory, and she knew it. Everybody trusted her. I was still the outsider, looked upon with suspicion and caution.

  Drat her anyway. “I’ll be right back.” I grabbed my Official Reporter’s Notepad and strolled toward the table in the back. Two grizzled fishermen eyed me; one tapped Jake on the shoulder and gestured in my direction. Jake leveled a scowl at me.

  I cleared my throat. “Mr. Fowler, could I speak to you for a few minutes? We met at the elementary sch-“

  “I remember,” he interrupted. His dark eyes raked over me. “Whaddya want?”

  “You’ve heard about Tom Crawford’s death?” I assumed my “reporter’s voice”-learned by imitating television news anchors.

  He gave a quick jerk of his head.

  “Do you have any comments for the Observer? I heard that the two of you were once business partners”

  His hands balled into fists. “I got nothing to say.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to remember my Tae Kwon Do training in case those large fists came in my direction. “Were you still angry with him about your bankruptcy?”

  “Who told you that?” he demanded.

  “Just heard it around.”

  His features kindled in anger. “I didn’t hurt him, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  I met his glance squarely. “I never said that.”

  Jake lurched to his feet. “I’m not telling you nothing else.”

  I tensed, my breath catching in my throat. He topped me by a good six inches and had a beefy build. But I stood my ground, in spite of my shaking knees. “I’d be happy to talk to you later-“

  “Get outta of my way,” he grated out as he pushed past me, knocking over a chair.

  The other men at the table trooped out silently.

  I exhaled, and the tension slowly drained out of my body, causing my knees to shake in reaction. Somehow I managed to stumble back to my table, where Madame Geri and Marley waited.

  “That went rather well, don’t you think?” I said.

  “Like a lead balloon,” she quipped.

  I didn’t dare sit down because I wasn’t sure I could get back up again. “Let’s hit the road”

  I drove back to the Observer office, turned Madame Geri and Marley over to her son, and dashed off my story
about Kevin’s rescue and his dad’s suspicious death. Reading it over once, I placed a hard copy on Anita’s desk. True to form, she immediately attacked it with her red pen.

  So it wasn’t great. I’d made the deadline.

  As reaction from the day’s events set in, I suddenly felt worn out, weary. I needed the comfort of my Airstream and time to gather my scattered wits. Waving good-bye to Sandy, I headed for the Twin Palms at Mango Bay.

  As I approached my site, I noticed the Wanderlodge still parked next to me in all its glory. But the rental car was gone, so I assumed the mystery RV’ers were exploring the island.

  Aha. My big chance to snoop around. I hopped out of my truck and tiptoed toward the front of the gigantic RV. Curtains were drawn around the front windows, but I tried to peer inside anyway. I couldn’t make out anything. Moving around to the side, I checked the windows under the awning. One shade was pulled up slightly.

  Rubbing my hands with glee, I craned my neck to bring my eyes level with the open area. Wow. The interior was incredible. A white leather sectional sofa, plush white carpet throughout, and real wood cabinets with lights overhead.

  Whoever lived in this mammoth vehicle had money coming out the wazoo.

  “Is there a problem, Mallie?”

  I whirled around. It was Pop Pop Welch, the Twin Palms’ wizened maintenance man. “Uh, no. Well … I’m not sure. I thought I … uh … smelled gas or something.”

  “A leak in the line?” He drew closer and sniffed.

  “Possibly” I swallowed hard. It sounded lame, even to me.

  “I’ll call Wanda Sue and have it checked out” His wrinkled hands reached for the two-way radio on his belt.

  I hightailed it over to my Airstream and let myself in before Pop Pop could ask for further details about the fabricated gas leak. Kong barked his usual enthusiastic greeting, and I scooped him up into my arms. As he licked my face something silly, I cranked up the heat and sat down to think.

  Two hours later, I’d completed a quick recap of murder suspects.

  Take Fowler. He certainly seemed to have the motive and capability to murder Tom. I made a mental note to find out if he had an alibi for the night Tom was killed.

  Frank King. If he were having an affair with Sally Jo, it was possible he wanted Tom out of the waypermanently.

  I wrote down Sally Jo’s name next to his. A dissatisfied and estranged wife, she could’ve been in on Frank’s plot to get rid of her husband.

  Could one of them be “Salty Surfer,” who’d sent me the threatening, albeit poorly written, e-mail? Unfortunately, there was a block on the IP address, and I couldn’t trace it back to the writer. Salty but smart.

  I paused, then slowly wrote another name. Kevin. I found it hard to believe that he could’ve killed his own father, but … I couldn’t let myself go there.

  First chance, I needed to talk to Kevin. It was very possible that he’d heard something on the boat that would provide clues to the murderer’s identity. Then I needed to fill in Nick Billie on everything that had happened.

  Right now, I had only one clue: the fancy handmade fly that Madame Geri found on the boat.

  I retrieved the deceiver from my canvas bag and examined it more carefully. Beautiful chartreuse and white feathers fanned out from the tiny, fish-shaped form attached to the hook, the eyes black, the scales blue and silver. Obviously it had been crafted with loving care. Whoever had fashioned this fly had combined the love of fishing with art.

  A deceiver. Had someone left it behind in haste? Was it the kind of object “Salty Surfer” would make?

  I brushed my fingers along the feathers. They felt real. A fishing fly made with real feathers? Now that probably was distinctive.

  Kong jumped down and scampered toward the front door. He looked at me with expectant eyes.

  “All right. But we’re heading toward the beach. I need some sea air.”

  He slumped into a sitting position and covered his eyes with his front paws.

  After slipping into my Windbreaker, I grabbed his leash and fastened it around his collar. We emerged from the warmth of the Airstream into the damp cold. I hunched my shoulders and flipped up the hood of my jacket.

  “Brrrr.” A chilly breeze came in off the Gulf, and the sky had turned charcoal gray, readying us for another night of freezing temperatures. Jeez, I need to move to Florida. Oh, wait. I am in Florida. It just felt as cold as winter in the Midwest.

  Not surprisingly, it took less than two minutes to clear my head. As Kong and I hurried back to the Airstream, I saw Wanda Sue knocking on my door.

  Kong barked excitedly at the sight of my landlady.

  She turned around and waved. Wearing a red leather coat over green velour pants, she looked like a walking traffic signal. Stop or go, Wanda Sue liked her bright colors.

  “Mallie, I wanted to ask you a favor,” she began.

  “Come in where it’s warm” I opened the door and motioned for her to follow me.

  Once inside, she settled on my old plaid sofa. Kong parked himself next to her feet and occupied himself with nibbling on the hem of her pants.

  “Kong, stop that.” I snapped my fingers.

  “It’s all right. These old pants are ready for a charity bin as it is.” She stroked Kong’s ears. He growled in response.

  “How are you doing?” I asked.

  “Okay, I guess. It’s Sally Jo who’s having the hard time of it.” She smoothed a stray hair behind her ear with a shaky hand. “Would you mind going on over to her place again for a little while? Just for some moral support? I need to stay here ‘cause Pop Pop said someone reported a gas leak. We gotta check every site, just to play it safe, and that could take a couple of hours”

  “Oh?” I averted my head.

  “It’s all them dimwit snowbirds. They always think they’re smelling gas leaks. They’re like chickens with their heads cut off when it comes to propane”

  “Yeah, they can be real alarmists” I swung my attention back to Wanda Sue with a guilty grimace. “I’d be happy to go over to Sally Jo’s” It was the least I could do after tying up Wanda Sue’s geriatric handyman, I added to myself.

  “Thank you so much, Mallie.” A ghost of a smile spread across her heavily made-up face. “You’ve been such a good friend to me and Sally Jo through all of this. I don’t know what I can do to repay you”

  “I’m paying you back for giving me a chance to get on my feet when I first moved here. I haven’t forgotten how you let me stay a month rent free till I got my first paycheck”

  “That was nothing, honey. You’ve been a sweet pea in a pod.”

  “Thanks” I couldn’t help an inward smile. No matter what, Wanda Sue kept up the steady stream of country cliches.

  “I … I .. ” Wanda Sue began crying. Kong gazed up at her and whimpered. After sharing many years of my flaky life, he’s always been particularly sensitive to tearful women. I grabbed Kong and hugged Wanda Sue. While both of them bawled in my arms, I prayed that Pop Pop had one of his notorious memory blackouts and would forget that I was the dimwit who’d reported the gas leak. All because I couldn’t resist nosing around my neighbors’ RV.

  All thoughts of Pop Pop, the gas leak, and my mysterious neighbors dissolved as I tried to console my landlady and pooch.

  Darkness had fallen by the time I pulled up in front of Sally Jo’s trailer. It had taken me almost an hour to calm Wanda Sue and Kong down enough so that I could leave them. Eventually Pop Pop picked up Wanda Sue in his golf cart. Luckily, he’d appeared to have forgotten my part in the gas leak incident, and we all joined in on blaming the dimwit tourists.

  Wearing a T-shirt, two sweaters, and the Windbreaker, I was fortified against the cold as I headed for Sally Jo’s front door. After ringing the bell, I hopped from one foot to the other to keep the circulation going in my legs.

  “Why, Mallie, what a nice surprise,” Sally Jo drawled as she swung open the door. “Come on in, honey.”

  I didn’t
need another invitation.

  “This cold snap could freeze the tail off a Florida bobcat” With a shiver, she closed the door.

  I guessed losing a tail was similar to humans’ freezing their buns off, but I wasn’t quite sure. As I unzipped my Windbreaker, I noticed that Sally Jo looked much better today. Her eyes were still red-rimmed, but the dull, flat expression had cleared. She’d donned a pair of jeans with a white leather fringed top and even wore a little makeup and lipstick. Much better. In fact, she looked incredibly good for having just lost her husband two days earlier.

  A man cleared his throat.

  I swung my head in the direction of the pink sectional sofa. Sitting on one end was a guy possibly in his late twenties. Nice looking in a bland sort of waybrown hair, brown eyes, and a deeply tanned face.

  “Uh … this is Frank King. He stopped by to pay his respects” Sally Jo’s hands fluttered around her face as if she didn’t know quite what to do with them. “He’s an old friend.”

  “Hi, I’m Mallie Monroe.”

  He rose from the sofa and moved toward me. As he smiled and stretched out his hand, I saw a cautious look flash in his eyes. A brief surge … then it was gone. But I’d seen it.

  Was he the reason for Sally Jo’s transformation? The makeup and leather fringe weren’t for my visit, that’s for sure.

  “Sally Jo and I are old high school buddies,” he said in a low voice. Suddenly I saw what Sally Jo might find attractive. First of all, he was tall and lean, without an ounce of fat. But besides the hunky build, he had a way of fastening his attention on you as if you were the most special, the most important thing the world. That was a potent attraction for any woman.

  “How nice that you could come over in her time of need,” I murmured. It sounded like a line from a funeral home commercial, but it was the best I could do. My mind was racing ahead with a dozen unanswered questions.

  The phone rang in the kitchen.

  “Let me get that. You two just set a spell… .” Sally Jo looked as if she wanted to say something else, but the phone’s insistent ringing flustered her. “I’ll be right back”

  Frank and I passed a few awkward, silent moments, then we both started talking at once.