Cursing, I flipped on my computer and got to work.
In a couple of hours I’d hammered out a fairly decent rough draft. I read it over a couple of times. Not bad. Not bad at all. I e-mailed it to Anita. Of course, she would change the opening, cut down on the adverbs, shorten my sentences, and eliminate at least a hundred words. But, hey, she would’ve slashed and trashed Hemingway if he’d been working for her.
I tried calling Detective Billie to get a quote about Jake’s arrest, but all I got was the part-time deputy who filled in on the rare occasions Nick was out of the office.
I’d have to check with him tomorrow.
Closing up shop, I drove back to Mango Bay and spent the rest of the afternoon reading about deceivers. Hohum. By evening, I was hungry, cold, and totally bored. It was all I could do to microwave a frozen chicken piccata dinner and crawl into bed. My heater was chugging out only pitiful attempts at warmth that evening, so I cranked up the electric blanket. Snuggling with Kong was the only thing my fried brain could handle. My eyes closed before my head hit the pillow.
The next morning, I promised myself that I would finish researching the fishing fly at work. That deceiver was somehow at the center of Tom’s murder and Frank’s attempted murder. Maybe I was becoming psychic from hanging around Madame Geri. At any rate, Jake’s arrest wasn’t the end of the murder investigation-I was sure of it. I was also sure that my heater in the Airstream was on its last leg. I called Pop Pop Welch to come over and take a look at it. He promised he’d get to it first thing after his oatmeal and Geritol.
After a fast shower and hair fluff, I took Kong for a quick walk, picked up the books on fishing flies, and drove off into the cold morning. Stopping at the Circle K for my usual morning fare-black coffee and two donuts-I mentally ticked off what I had to do that day. First item of the morning after I got to work: Call the island cop for a quote about Jake’s arrest.
I parked in front of the Observer and strolled in, books in hand, drinking my coffee.
“Mallie, I heard about the events at Frank King’s bait shop. Unbelievable.” Sandy’s open face was lit with excitement.
“Then I guess Anita told you Detective Billie arrested Jake” I did a double take. Sandy was standing by the file cabinets wearing a pair of tight-fitting Levis. “Hey, girl, you’re wearing jeans!”
She grinned and twirled around. “Can you believe it? I finally fit into a size ten”
I scanned her. “No price tags?”
“Nope. With Jimmy’s help, I’ll stay this thin.” She closed the file drawer and moved toward her desk.
“Congrats” I dropped the stack of books on top of my desk with a loud thump.
She picked up The Comprehensive History of Fishing Flies and grimaced. “This looks boring.”
“Tell me about it. I could hardly keep my eyes open. But that fly is the key to who murdered Tom and stabbed Frank…:’
“You don’t think Jake did it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Any other possibilities?”
“Too many” I clicked on the computer I shared with Sandy. “Before I call Nick for a quote, I’m going to check some online sources about building flies.” I couldn’t finish the story, or accept Jake’s guilt yet, until I knew who had made that deceiver.
Before I realized it, I’d spent an hour looking at Web sites. The amount of information was staggering, but I located one of the Lefty Kreh’s disciples: Lou Tabor. I found his e-mail address and sent him a message to see if he knew of anyone in this area who might build flies.
Just then, Jimmy breezed in with Madame Geri and Marley. Oh, boy.
“We’ve got a surprise for all of you,” Jimmy announced as he went over and kissed Sandy on the cheek.
“You’re gonna finish painting this dump of an office?” Anita emerged from her cubicle, a copy of my news story in hand.
Jimmy laughed. “Better than that”
“I finished Anita’s astrological chart” Madame Geri held up a legal pad with all kinds of odd markings on it. “I almost missed the most important part: Her rising sign is Gemini-the twins.”
“Huh?” Anita grunted.
“We found what you were missing in your life: your sister.”
In walked an identical version of Anita. Same stringy hair, same wrinkled face, same dowdy clothes. But there was one exception: She was stout rather than reed-thin. Oh, my. Double jeopardy.
Anita gasped. “Bernice”
Bernice frowned. “Anita.”
“Nothing like a family reunion to create good karma” Madame Geri surveyed the scene with an expression of self-satisfaction.
I stood frozen in a horrified daze. There couldn’t be two Sanders women on the planet. That simply wasn’t possible. Was it?
“Last I heard, you were in the Panhandle,” Anita said.
“I was…. Then I went to Miami to run a couple of fishing charters. But taking out potbellied tourists who are too squeamish to bait their own hooks is a real grind. Not to mention moronic, big-city executives who want to tell you how to run your own boat,” Bernice scoffed. “I finally had enough and threw one overboard. Andwould you believe it?-that jerk-face actually tried to sue me”
I could see that people skills were not strong points with either Anita or her sister. Must be genetic.
“Right about that time, your friend Geri called and told me to come to Coral Island and check out the commercial fishing,” she finished.
“She’s not my friend.” Anita flicked a stern glance in the psychic’s direction, then focused her attention back on her plus-sized twin. “I thought you might’ve showed up to pay me back that two hundred and fifty dollars you owe me.”
Bernice’s eyes narrowed. “That car deal was fair and square. How could I have known the brakes would go out after you bought it from me? But, since you’re working in such a dump, I can see that you need money. Here” She reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a crinkled dollar bill. “Consider this a down payment. I give you another one every week until the debt is paid.”
“Dock rat” Anita ignored the money.
“Shriveled up old hag” Bernice threw it to the floor.
“Nice to see you, sis.” Anita smiled. “I hope you drop dead before you get your fishing business going.”
“No such luck, dearie” Bernice smiled back. “I plan to stay here a long, long time just to irritate you.” She waltzed out the front door with a flourish.
Anita threw up her hands and howled, “I need a cigarette!” Then she stalked back into her office, but not before telling me that the draft of my news story that I’d e-mailed her yesterday was trash.
“It’s not finished,” I said. But she’d closed the door.
“Nothing like reuniting two sisters,” Madame Geri pronounced in a upbeat tone. “It’s so touching.”
“Touching? I thought they were going to start a fist fight at any moment” I covered my eyes with my palms. “Now I have two Anitas on my hands. Thanks a lot, Madame Geri. My situation just got worse”
“You never know. They might grow on each otherand you,” Sandy offered in a hopeful voice.
I dropped my hands and gave her a look of disbelief. “Get real.”
“I heard about Jake Fowler’s arrest,” Madame Geri said. “They’ve got the wrong man. The spirits told me this morning.”
Huh? Were we finally both on the same psychic wavelength? In spite of myself, excitement kindled inside me. “I never believed that Kevin was capable of killing his own father, and I’m not totally convinced that Jake did it, because of the deceiver. But I’m running out of leads. Frank King was the likeliest suspect; then he got himself almost killed. And that rules out Sally Jo. I can’t see her murdering her husband so she can be with Frank-and then turning around and trying to kill him too. That leaves Jake…
Madame Geri tapped the side of her head. “I’m not channeling too well right now. I think I’m on the wrong frequency or something.”
“Perhaps you need
an antenna?”
She shot me a long, low glance. “It doesn’t work like that”
I turned back to my computer. This conversation was getting too weird for me.
An e-mail appeared on my screen. It was from Lou Tabor. I clicked to open it. As I scanned the contents, something clicked in my mind.
I sat back and gripped the arms of my chair. “I know who murdered Tom.”
“That?” Sandy and Jimmy exclaimed simultaneously.
“It’s all right here.” Excitement bubbled up inside me like a fountain. I pressed the Print button. “Lou Tabor was one of Lefty Kreh’s disciples. He learned to build flies at the feet of the master-along with three other men. I asked him if any of the other men lived in Florida” I whisked the paper out of the printer.
“Go on,” Sandy urged.
“There was only one: Ed Mitchell. He works as a hairdresser in Miami.”
Jimmy scratched his head. “So he killed Tom?”
“No,” Madame Geri answered for me. “He has a child, right?”
I nodded. How had she figured that out? “A daughter. And she’s a master fly builder.”
“Daughter? But who?” Sandy said. “There’s no one on the island named Mitchell that I can think of.”
“She married a man named Jennings. They apparently divorced a few years ago, and she left Miami.”
“Oh, no” Sandy’s eyes widened. “Beverly Jennings.”
“Exactly” I jumped to my feet. “Frank told me that Tom had been having an affair. It must’ve been with Beverly. All this time, we’ve been thinking it was Frank or Jake. But Tom’s lover was the murderer. It fits. She knows fishing and boats like the back of her hand. She was able to motor out to Tom’s boat, kill him, and make it back without anyone’s being the wiser.”
“We’ve got to call the police,” Jimmy said.
“This is all just theory” I reached for my jacket. “We need to get her to confess-for Kevin’s sake. She could hurt him.”
“Mallie, let Detective Billie handle it-” Sandy began.
“Go ahead and call him. I’ll meet him at the elementary school with my findings.” I checked to make sure my iPod was in my canvas bag just in case Beverly said anything incriminating. “Don’t worry. It’s a public place. There’s nothing Beverly can do to me there”
“At least take Mom with you” Jimmy stood between me and door, with no sign of backing down.
I hesitated a few seconds, then relented. “All right. But keep that bird quiet.”
Madame Geri squared her shoulders and patted Marley. Jimmy stepped aside. Sandy picked up the phone.
“Let Anita know where we’ve gone,” I tossed off over my shoulder as Madame Geri and I left the office.
We climbed into Rusty, who, for once, roared into life just when I needed him. “Are you up to this?” I asked Madame Geri.
“What do you think?”
I put Rusty into gear, and we headed for the Coral Island Elementary School.
When we arrived, I ducked into the office and obtained passes from Trish on the pretext of doing another news story. She gave them to me without hesitation. Once I had them, Madame Geri and I made our way down the hallway.
“It’s almost lunchtime. We’ll wait out here for Detective Billie.” I checked my Mickey Mouse watch. A quarter till noon. Fifteen minutes. I touched the amulet around my neck for good luck. Okay, I admit it-I needed all the help I could get.
“Did you get a pass for Marley?” she whispered.
“Madame Geri, please try to focus.” We halted just outside Beverly’s classroom. “We’re about to confront a killer. This is serious business.”
“I’m aware of that” She looked affronted. “The spirits are with us, though.”
“That’s nice. I guess it’s better than having them against us” I checked my watch again. Five minutes. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. I pushed my curls back with a shaky hand. Where the heck is Nick Billie?
The bell rang, and I heard a jumble of children’s voices in the classroom. Then the door opened, and kids filed out in pairs, still talking. Madame Geri and I hid behind a potted palm so they wouldn’t see us. When they’d left, I peeped into the classroom and heard Beverly say to a remaining student, “I don’t have time to look over your reading journal right now. I’ve got a family emergency, and you may not see me for quite a while.”
The little girl shrugged and followed her classmates out.
I returned to the potted palm and my two companions. “I don’t think we can wait for Detective Billie. She must know something’s up-she’s ready to run. We’ll get her talking, and by that time he should be here” I motioned for Madame Geri to follow me into the classroom. I clicked on the tape recorder.
Beverly had her back to us and was erasing the large green chalkboard behind her desk. I looked around. The ambiance suggested what educators today call “a positive learning environment.” Every inch of the room was filled with bright posters and pictures. Cheery and inviting. Small tables were positioned in “modules” with books and painting equipment scattered across the tops. And, of course, a row of computers lined one wall. I pointed to a large, neon yellow filing cabinet. Madame Geri took her position behind it.
“Hi, Beverly,” I said in a quiet voice.
She whirled around. “Oh, it’s you. Are you working on another story?” A brief shadow of hardness dimmed the habitually sweet expression she wore. It lasted only seconds, but I saw it. It made me shiver.
“You could say that” I strolled toward her. “I’m finishing up an investigative piece on Tom Crawford’s murder.”
“Isn’t that old news? I heard that Jake Fowler was arrested yesterday” She tucked her blond hair behind her ear.
“True-for attacking Frank King. But I don’t think he hurt Frank or murdered Tom.”
“Really?” She set the eraser down. “I thought you were a reporter, not a police officer.”
“Sometimes I get very involved in my stories, especially when they concern cold-blooded murderers”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there.” An overly bright smile appeared.
“I think you can” I spoke slowly, stalling for time. “You were having an affair with Tom. But then he decided to get back with Sally Jo, and you were enraged. You were so angry that you took a boat out to where he was fishing with Kevin, and you-“
“Killed him? You’ve got quite a vivid imagination, Ms. Monroe.”
A blinding resolve rose up inside me. I was going to make her confess before she hurt anyone else. “No, I’ve got facts on my side. Fact: A fishing fly was found on Tom’s boat-the kind of fly that only a master builder could make. That’s why you tried to kill Frank-to get that fly. You somehow got hold of Jake’s fishing net and used it on Frank. A nice touch. Jake was a suspect in Tom’s murder. If his fishing net were found at the crime scene, it would implicate him even further. But Jake couldn’t have made that fly. Fact: Your father is Ed Mitchell, master fly builder. He also owns a hair salon in Miami where you told me you get your hair done. He taught you everything he knows about building flies. And you learned well.”
A brittle laugh escaped her. “So what if my father is Ed Mitchell? That doesn’t prove anything.”
Ouch. She had me there. But I wasn’t Mallie Monroe, motormouth extraordinaire, for nothing. “You forget, I saw that fly. I know it was your father’s design. Only two people could’ve made that fly: you or Ed Mitchell.” I lied through my teeth. I had no idea whether anyone else could make that fly. “All Detective Billie has to do is get a drawing of the fly, call your father, and get him to confirm that it was one of his designs. I’m sure he’ll do that. And I’m sure he’ll be dismayed to know that his daughter-“
“Shut up,” she snarled.
“The game’s over, Beverly. You might as well own up to what you did.”
Her eyes took on a hard, defiant look, and her voice turned as bitter as a key lime. “So what if I killed Tom? He deserv
ed it. That lying, cheating jerk. I thought I was done with men like him after I divorced my first husband. But Tom didn’t seem like that when I first met him. He was kind and sensitive. When he left Sally Jo, I saw my opportunity and moved in on him. Everything was fine at first. He was going to get a divorce, and we were going to get married. Then he started having cold feet. He wasn’t sure how the divorce would affect Kevin, he didn’t know if he could hurt Sally Jo, and so on and so on” She moved around to the front of her desk. “I took a boat out there that night just to reason with him, beg him to leave Sally Jo. But he said he’d already made up his mind to go back to his wife.”
“Then you hit him with the oar?”
“I didn’t mean to. I don’t even remember doing it. All of a sudden it was in my hand, and I slammed it against his head”
Her head dropped to her chest. Silent moments passed, but I said nothing.
Then she turned her face up, her mood veering sharply to anger. “But then you had to come along and stick your nose into everything. I tried to scare you off with the e-mail and-“
“Road rage?” Aha! I finally finished one of her sentences for a change. “You tried to force me off the road”
“Bingo. Go to the head of the class” She snatched up a paint knife from the kids’ arts and crafts area and moved toward me.
Uh-oh. “I was just doing my job.”
“You can blame yourself for Frank. You involved him by giving him that fishing fly. Luckily, my dad called me on my cell phone during the fishing tournament. His friend, Lou, said someone named Frank from Coral Island had been investigating Dad’s deceivers. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who that was” She drew closer. “Too bad he survived.”
“Beverly, the police are already outside the building. Sandy called Detective Billie-he knows what you’ve done.” And let’s hope he’s going to rush in here at any moment, I added to myself.
“I don’t care” Her eyes took on an insane glitter.
The classroom door opened, and Kevin rushed in. “I forgot to get my lunch-“
“Kevin, get out of here!” I yelled.
“No,” Beverly commanded, her attention fastening on the boy. “You’re the one who caused all of this. Your father would’ve married me if it hadn’t been for you.”
Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue Page 16