by Elaine Viets
Helen ran back to her apartment, changed into a black T-shirt and pants, and added her black straw hat. Phil was waiting outside her door with a clipboard.
“You look like a glamorous gunfighter,” he said.
“What’s on the clipboard?” Helen said.
“A list of names and addresses of other people signing for the refund for the overcharge,” he said.
Helen noticed about half of the names had signatures beside them.
“Very authentic,” she said.
“The hard part was trying to create different signatures,” he said. He tapped the board. “Under this, I also have envelopes that supposedly contain checks, including one for Alana. Shall we?”
Phil and Helen were silent on the short ride to Riggs Beach. This was a different kind of quiet, not a tension-packed silence. Now they were united in their silence, gathering their strength for the coming ordeal.
Phil parked his car in the Riggs Beach lot as tired, sunburned beachgoers were packing up their gear to go home.
“I think we got here at the right time,” Helen said. “People are leaving the beach. There’s a better chance that Cerise will be empty.”
They walked quickly to the boutique. Phil peeked in the window. “One customer,” he said. “Is Alana a blonde?”
“Tall, slender, long blond hair, dangly earrings?” Helen said.
“That’s her,” Phil said. “As soon as she rings up this customer, I’m going in.”
The customer seemed to take forever. She and Alana chatted about the weather, the sunshine, a sale coming up next week. At last, Alana handed the woman her hot pink shopping bag and she was out the turquoise door.
“I’m going in,” Phil said, as if he was storming an armed stronghold. Helen pulled down her hat and studied the clothes in the display window.
“Hey, there,” Alana said.
“Are you Alana Roselli Romano?” Phil asked.
“I am, but why so formal?” Alana said. Her voice was an invitation. Helen’s hackles went up.
“I need your full name if I’m going to give you some money,” Phil said, flirting right back.
“You’re a lot younger and better looking than Ed McMahon,” Alana said.
“I don’t have nearly as much money to give away,” Phil said. “But I am prepared to give you a check. You live in the apartment upstairs, 10792 A1A, Suite 2?”
“I do, but why are you asking?” Alana sounded wary.
“You’ve overpaid your city water bill by five dollars and twelve cents for the last ten months,” he said. “I have a refund check for fifty-one dollars and twenty cents.” He tapped the clipboard. “It’s not a lot.” Phil sounded apologetic.
“I’ll take it!” Alana said. “I love free money.”
“Hardly free,” Phil said. “You’ve already given it to the city. I’m just giving it back. I’ll need to see your driver’s license or some other photo ID. Then you sign here and I’ll give you the check.”
Helen could see Alana duck down behind the counter, pop up with her purse and plop it next to the register. She rummaged inside and pulled out a slim black wallet with gold studs along the edge of the flap.
Phil grabbed it out of her hand. “I’ll take that,” he said.
“Hey, I’m calling the police.” Alana picked up the phone.
“Please do,” Phil said. “Then you can tell them what you’re doing with a dead woman’s wallet. Helen!”
Helen slapped the CLOSED sign on the turquoise door and locked it.
“You!” Alana hissed. “I told you to stay away from here.”
Helen ignored her. Phil tossed her the wallet and Helen began emptying the compartments on a display table. The driver’s license, credit cards and library card all belonged to Alana. So did the ATM card and checkbook. Helen ignored the money and explored the other compartments.
Now she was frantic. There was nothing in this wallet to show it had belonged to Joan. Nothing.
Helen opened a long zippered section, then felt under the leather flap with her finger. Jammed into the corner was a pink raffle ticket, number 176591. Joan Right’s raffle ticket for the Mercedes.
“Found this,” Helen said. “It’s a chance to win a Mercedes.”
“That’s mine,” Alana said.
“Really?” Helen said. “Then why does it have Joan Right’s name, address and phone number? Were you going to give the Mercedes to a server?”
“Where did you get the wallet, Alana?” Phil said.
“Cy,” she said. “Cy gave it to me. As a gift.”
“And we know where Cy got it,” Phil said. “He gave you another present to convince Joan to come down to the pier alone so he could kill her.”
“You wanted that peach dress in the worst way,” Helen said. “That’s how you got it. You talked Joan Right into meeting you at the pier so Cy could kill her.”
“You can’t prove that,” Alana said, but her voice trembled.
“Don’t have to,” Phil said. “I’ll also call Channel Seventy-seven, and their investigative reporter can video the wallet and raffle ticket. Helen will swear it belonged to the late Joan Right, who mysteriously committed suicide.
“After that story runs, I’ll call the Riggs Beach police and tell them that you have the dead woman’s wallet—and Cy gave it to you. Where did he get it, Alana? Nobody will believe he found it on the beach. Not after his weepy speech on TV about how much he wanted to help poor, worried Joan. Even a force as crooked as Riggs Beach won’t cover up that.
“Are you going to tell them you’re only an accessory, that you didn’t kill Joan?” he asked. “Are you going to say Cy did?
“How long do you think you’ll last in a Riggs Beach jail, Alana? You know what Cy did to Joan. He can hire some beach bum to get rid of you. Heck, he could probably hire a cop. Next, we’ll hear how you hung yourself in your cell out of remorse. That’s an ugly way to die, Alana.”
“No! No! Let me go. I have some money. I can pay you,” she said.
“Not interested,” Phil said. “But you may want to talk to a special agent with the state. He’s investigating corruption in Riggs Beach. He might—and I say might—cut you a deal in return for your testimony.”
“Then get him,” Alana said. “Call him right now.”
The sexy, lighthearted Alana was gone. Now she seemed haggard and badly used.
“Not yet,” Phil said. “Answer one question first: Why did Cy kill Joan Right?”
The color had drained from Alana’s face. She put her hands on the counter to stop them from shaking, took a deep breath and said, “He knew Joan was meeting with a woman PI who drove a white PT Cruiser. She was hanging around the restaurant the night it burned. So was that investigative reporter for Channel Seventy-seven. He couldn’t have Joan talking to the press or a private eye.”
Alana doesn’t know I’m the woman private eye, Helen thought. I was careless and let Joan get killed.
“Hurry,” Alana said. “What if Cy stops by for the day’s receipts?”
“Then you’re in a heap of trouble,” Phil said. “So answer quick. Why didn’t Cy bribe Commissioner Wyman for his vote?”
“Once the restaurant burned down,” Alana said, “Cy couldn’t hold a reception for Wyman’s daughter, so he lost the chance to influence his vote. Wyman’s too careful to take cash. Cy would have paid for the reception and given Wyman a phony bill.”
“Which Wyman wouldn’t pay?” Phil asked.
“Oh, no, he’d write a check for it,” Alana said. “But Cy would never cash it. Wyman makes sure he has bills of sale and receipts for everything.”
“Thanks,” Phil said. “I’ll make that call now.”
He speed-dialed a number on his cell phone and said, “Agent Honeycutt? I have someone who wants to talk to you. The person I told you about. How soon can you get here? Twenty minutes? Good.”
He clicked off his phone and said, “He’s on his way.”
A woman wearing a T
-shirt with a tabby cat curled under a palm tree rattled the door handle.
Helen went to the door. “We’re closed,” she said.
It was after dark when Helen and Phil left Cerise and walked back to the parking lot along the beach. The sea was smooth silver, stretching to infinity. Helen and Phil walked along the water’s edge, holding hands.
“Things turned out better than I dreamed,” Helen said. “We can close Sunny Jim’s case, and Randy and Alana are safe, thanks to FDLE.”
“We also know who killed Joan and Ceci,” Phil said.
“Valerie’s career is saved,” Helen said. “I called and she’ll be there when Bill is arrested for murder for hire. I also told her she wants to be at the Riggs County Courthouse tomorrow morning when the grand jury is convened.”
“FDLE can’t say what’s going on—not yet—but Valerie will be first with the story,” Phil said.
“Her courthouse sources are good,” Helen said. “Cal may not be able to talk, but she’ll find a leak somewhere.”
“Joan’s autopsy report showed she fought her killer,” Phil said. “The medical examiner got DNA from the skin under her fingernails. Cal says Cy has healing scratches on his hands and arms. If the DNA matches, they’ll have Cy for murder one.”
“Alana’s and Randy’s testimony should help the case,” Helen said.
“When Cy is charged with murder, Valerie will report that story, too,” Phil said.
“Best of all, Rob is gone for good,” Helen said. “ And we’re back together. Why did you forgive me?”
Phil gathered her into his arms. “Because I was wrong,” he said.
“I was wrong, too,” Helen said.
“But I was worse,” Phil said. “The night Rob was killed, I lied to the police about his death and covered up what I knew. I was guilty of the same thing you were. I just couldn’t admit it. It was too easy to fall into that trap.”
Helen silently agreed but said nothing.
Phil reached into his pocket and handed her a key. “It’s the new key to my apartment,” he said. “You already have the one to my heart. I don’t know what else to say, except I love you.”
“And I love you,” Helen said.
This time, when he took her into his arms, the pain was gone.
EPILOGUE
Helen and Phil paddled out on the silk-smooth ocean, admiring the sunrise. Helen heard a small splash and saw a red snapper leap up in the water near her board. The ocean was that clear. She had a fanciful notion that it was the fish she’d saved on the beach.
“This morning is so beautiful,” Helen said.
“And so are you,” Phil said.
She smiled at her husband and nearly lost her balance.
“Whoa!” he said.
She righted herself just in time.
The early morning paddleboard session was a thank-you gift from Sunny Jim, along with a substantial bonus. He even paid Margery’s limo rental bill.
“You saved my business and my reputation,” he said.
The newly elected Riggs Beach City Commission voted to renew Sunny Jim’s beach location lease for five more years.
The firefighters had managed to save all eight of Sunny Jim’s paddleboards and eleven paddles. Insurance covered the rest of the damage. Jim was glad he’d backed up his data in his Riggs Lake computers. Now that there’s only one paddleboard concession on Riggs Beach, Jim’s business is booming. He bought Bill’s paddleboard equipment at fire-sale prices.
* * *
Bill Bantry did not get away with murder this time. He was convicted of the murder for hire in the death of Cecilia Odell and sentenced to thirty years in prison. He served only five. Bill was killed in a prison-yard fight.
* * *
Daniel Odell collected the million dollars from Ceci’s life insurance policy, then lost it in bad investments within a year.
Maureen Carsten, Ceci’s best friend, discovered that she was pregnant three months after Ceci died. Her husband had had a vasectomy. He divorced his unfaithful wife. Daniel told Maureen to “get rid of it.” He didn’t want a child.
Maureen, pregnant and newly divorced, wept to Daniel’s parents that their son wanted her to abort their only grandchild. Daniel reluctantly married his lover, after his parents threatened to disinherit him.
He looks very tired these days. Daniel Odell Junior still doesn’t sleep through the night.
Maureen Carsten Odell gained forty pounds after the birth of the baby. She can’t seem to lose the weight. Daniel padlocks the fridge door after dinner.
* * *
Valerie Cannata broke the story of the arrest of Bill Bantry of Bill’s Boards, and the FDLE investigation into bribery, corruption and murder in Riggs Beach. She won two more Emmy Awards for her exclusive coverage of the murders of Ceci Odell and Joan Right.
* * *
Alana Roselli Romano was charged with being an accessory after the fact to the murder of Joan Right. In return for her cooperation with the authorities, she served six months in prison and two years’ probation.
Cy’s frequent text messages helped establish that he used Alana to meet Joan Right at the pier. Alana currently works at a Riggs Beach T-shirt shop and lives in an apartment with a view of the alley.
* * *
The chief of the Riggs Beach police resigned and was charged with six counts of grand theft and eleven counts of official misconduct. Five officers and Detective Emmet Ebmeier were also convicted of taking bribes and multiple ethics violations.
Ebmeier forfeited his house, thirty-foot sailboat, Harley, Mercedes and BMW. The other officers were also forced to forfeit any possessions related to the bribery.
* * *
Randall Travis Henshall pleaded guilty to murder for hire and arson. In addition to his incriminating recording of the conversation with Bill Bantry, his cell phone had several text messages that backed his claim. Randy had three operations for skin grafts on his back. Because he cooperated with the long investigation, he was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison.
* * *
Cyrus Reed Horton was charged with multiple offenses, including the first-degree murder of Joan Right. Facing the death penalty, he ratted out Commissioner Frank “the Fixer” Gordon. For his testimony against Gordon, he received life without the possibility of parole. Cy works in the prison kitchen.
* * *
Joan Right was buried next to her parents in a private ceremony in Riggs Beach. Helen, Phil, Kevin and the rest of the staff of Cy’s on the Pier held a sunset memorial service for their friend on the beach.
“You were kind, brave and hardworking, Joan,” Kevin said. “You were loved by your friends and colleagues. You will be missed.”
Helen floated a wreath of purple orchids into the water and said, “I will remember you, Joan, and your courage. May you have eternal rest.” Afterward, Kevin told Helen and Phil, “You gave my friend justice. Thank you. Fat, lazy Cy is sweating in the prison kitchen, working harder than we ever had to. And he’s paid even less than we were.”
* * *
Commissioner Frank Gordon was convicted of multiple counts of bribery and sentenced to thirty years in prison and a fine of five hundred thousand dollars. He was unable to sell his home to pay the fine and the lawyer’s fees. His house, pool and a half acre of waterfront property were washed away when his seawall crumbled during a tropical storm.
His wife divorced him and married an orthodontist. His stepson has straight teeth.
* * *
Commissioner Charles Wyman was convicted of bribery in return for gifts, including a thirty-foot cabin cruiser, a new shingled roof, pressure washing and painting of the exterior of his home, five thousand square feet of wall-to-wall broadloom, two Mercedes and a low-flush toilet. He was sentenced to ten years in prison and five years of supervised release, fined one hundred thousand dollars and forfeited all the proceeds from his offenses.
* * *
Wilma Jane Wyman’s wedding was canceled when he
r father was arrested. Her car salesman fiancé said her father’s reputation was bad for his business image. Wilma Jane works as an exotic dancer at a joint that features “burgers and babes.”
* * *
Riggs Beach mayor Eustice Timmons and the other members of the Riggs Beach City Commission resigned and were charged with multiple counts of bribery and ethics violations. They were sentenced to a total of more than two hundred years in prison.
* * *
Helen suffered from recurring nightmares after Rob’s death. She received a call that no one had claimed Rob’s body in the St. Louis County morgue. Helen arranged for a quiet funeral for her ex-husband. Phil insisted on flying to St. Louis with her.
No one attended Rob’s burial except Helen and Phil. The funeral and other expenses cost fifteen thousand dollars, the amount Rob had demanded the night he staggered into Kathy’s backyard. Helen thought it was worth the price to finally bury her ex and her guilt.
The night they returned, Helen gave Phil the gift she’d bought him at the little store: a classic edition of Crossroads: Eric Clapton.
Phil gave her a new special edition of the best of the Rolling Stones. He is learning to appreciate the Stones, particularly “Let’s Spend the Night Together.”
Catnapped!
For Judge Tracy Petty
Thanks for grooming this national champion
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Catnapped! could not have been written without the help of Tracy Petty, southern region director of the Cat Fanciers’ Association, Inc. Cat show judges are natural teachers, and Judge Petty went to great lengths to check the cat facts and explain the intricacies of show judging. Any mistakes are mine, not hers.
There is no Gold Cup Cat Fanciers’ Association, and Judge Tracy Petty does not resemble the flashy Judge Lexie Deener except for her uncanny ability to repel cat hair from her black clothes at shows.
Special thanks to Detective R. C. White, Fort Lauderdale Police Department (retired) and licensed Florida private eye, and Houston private investigator and mystery writer William Simon. Poison expert Luci Zahray helped me kill. Fortunately, Luci uses her powers only for good. Chris Byrnes is a fun-loving dancer in Fort Lauderdale. Special thanks to Reverend Karlene McAllister, who ministers to prisoners through Inside Dharma.