“Damn!” Courtney cried, no doubt having realized that what she’d just shot was nothing more threatening than a leather Stone Mountain pocketbook and a funhouse mirror.
But Mallory took advantage of Courtney’s few seconds of puzzlement to dash out from behind the mirror, give Courtney a hard shove, and run back down the hallway.
Once again, she could hear Courtney behind her.
I have to stay out of sight, she thought, trying not to panic. The moment she sees me, she’s going to pull the trigger again.
As the footsteps grew closer, she darted into the first room she came across. A big sign over the door read JUNGLE ROOM.
It was well named. The walls were lined with the heads of animals. Dead animals. Big, scary-looking animals, too—a lion, a bear, a tiger, and a panther, all of them with their mouths open and their teeth bared. A large leopard skin lay in front of the fireplace. Even the furniture stayed true to the jungle theme. The leather couch with shiny metal studs was festooned with fur-covered throw pillows. A footrest was also made from the fur of some unlucky beast.
From the footsteps growing louder in the hallway, Mallory knew Courtney was getting closer. Frantically she scanned the room, looking for a weapon, a way out, a place to hide…anything that would buy her some more time.
And then she spotted a switch on the wall, half hidden behind a curtain. It was much too big to be a light switch, so she suspected it was the control for one more special effect.
Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to figure out what effect pulling the switch might have.
When she glanced upward, she realized she’d just found exactly what she’d been looking for.
As she heard Courtney coming up behind her, she leaped over to the switch, pulled it down, and ducked behind the curtain. Then she watched as a giant net dropped from the ceiling at the same moment Courtney rushed into the room.
“Ah-h-h!” the younger woman cried, her limbs suddenly tangled up in netting that was heavy enough to catch lions and tigers and bears, including the ones whose heads now hung on the wall. As she tried to free herself, she slipped and fell to the floor.
“Get me out of here!” she screeched.
Not likely, Mallory thought, nimbly skipping over the edges of the net that spilled into her path, determined to flee.
As she ran through the doorway, however, she struck something hard.
“Ooph!” she cried, glancing up.
It wasn’t a ghoul she had collided with. It was Detective Martinez. Coming up behind him were two uniformed officers, one male and one female.
“Ms. Marlowe!” he exclaimed, surveying the bizarre scene before him. “What have you done?”
“Captured Phil Diamond’s murderer, that’s what I’ve done!”
A look of disbelief flashed across his face. But before he had a chance to speak, Courtney’s muffled voice rang out from beneath the thick folds of net. “He had it coming!” she growled. “Phil Diamond ruined my life. He deserved to die! I’m glad I killed him!”
The detective’s expression quickly changed.
“Get her out of there,” he barked.
The two uniformed officers pounced, thrashing through the netting to get at Courtney. The woman cop already held a pair of handcuffs in her hand.
Mallory turned to face the detective. “How did you know what was going on?” she demanded. “What brought you here?”
“The sound of a gunshot,” he replied. “Somebody called it in and I came right over. This place is closed, so I immediately knew something was very wrong.”
Mallory and Detective Martinez paused to watch the police handcuff Courtney and lead her away. She was sobbing so hard that Mallory actually felt sorry for her.
Courtney was a killer, all right, Mallory thought, but she’d killed Phil because she sincerely believed he was responsible for destroying her family.
The fact that she had been wrong only added to the tragedy.
Once they were gone, Detective Martinez folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, Ms. Marlowe. Would you mind telling me exactly how you managed to identify Phil Diamond’s murderer? And then would you tell me how you caught her—in a net?”
She was only too happy to fill him in on the details of her investigation, leaving out the suspicions she’d had about Frieda, Annabelle, Desmond, and Wade. Then she told him about Patrice’s claim that in Phil’s eyes, David had been responsible for his first business failure, which accounted for Phil’s years of hoarding articles about her husband. She also explained David’s role in Phil’s latest get-rich scheme, saying she believed Phil had even traveled to New York City last summer to confront him.
“We’ll contact the police up there and look into that,” Detective Martinez assured her. “What was the exact date of your husband’s death?”
“June twenty-ninth.”
She’d barely gotten the words out when a wave of exhaustion swept over her. The shock of being held at gun-point and then being chased through a haunted house, as well as all the other events of the long, grueling week, suddenly caught up with her.
“And now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to find my purse, drive back to the hotel, and start packing,” she said. “First thing tomorrow, I’ve got a plane to catch.”
22
“A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.”
—George Moore
Now, this was a trip I won’t forget soon,” Frieda announced as the three female journalists gathered in the lobby with their suitcases to say good-bye early Friday morning. “And believe me, at my age I’ve got so many memories filed away in my head that there isn’t a heck of a lot of room for any new ones.”
She sounded as cheerful as if what had made this particular press trip so memorable was something along the lines of another skinny-dipping adventure—or perhaps a more personalized activity, courtesy of Alligator Zeke.
While Frieda was her usual bubbly self, Annabelle seemed even more subdued than usual. Still, her somber mood didn’t stop her from sashaying past the front desk, snatching a dozen books of Polynesian Princess Hotel matches off the counter, and dropping them into her purse.
“I suppose I owe you a thank you, Mallory,” she said begrudgingly as she rejoined their little group. “For finding out who murdered Phil, I mean.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Mallory assured her. “I just hope knowing who the culprit was makes it a little easier for you to cope.”
“It does.” Annabelle sighed. “To be honest, I don’t know how much longer Phil and I would have been an item, anyway. After all these years, I’m ready for something more. In fact, I’m thinking of signing up with one of those online dating services when I get home. Maybe my soul mate is out there waiting for me.”
I wonder if there’s a budget dating website, Mallory mused. Something along the lines of CheapDate.com.
“Mallory, you did an amazing job,” Frieda gushed. “Imagine figuring out who killed Phil all by yourself! Who would have guessed we had a Nancy Drew in our midst?”
“Very impressive,” Wade agreed, coming up behind them. “Then again, outstanding sleuthing skills are just one of the things that make this lady special.”
Mallory noticed Frieda and Annabelle exchanging a knowing look. She didn’t care.
Wade looped his arm around hers and drew her a few steps away from the others.
“You know, Mallory,” he said in a low, earnest voice, “I feel as if you and I have some unfinished business.”
She nodded. “I feel the same way.”
“Is there any way I could talk you into staying on for a few days?” he asked. “To give us a chance to get to know each other better before we both take off?”
“I have to get home,” Mallory said. Her heart felt strangely heavy, as if regret was weighing it down.
“Ah, yes. Home, that distant place,” he said lightly. “Rivington, New York, which happens to be far, far away f
rom Toronto.”
She smiled sadly. “That’s where my life is. My two children, my house, and now, it seems, my career.”
“You know,” Wade said lightly, “I could come down to New York sometime. Sometime soon, I mean. I bet I could even find some luxury hotels to write about. Just say the word.”
Mallory squeezed his arm. “I think I still need some time, Wade. I’ve got a lot to digest right now. Not to mention the fact that I have a travel article to write. Don’t forget, it’s my very first one. I’m still not sure I can pull off that part of the deal.”
“I have no doubt that you’ll be magnificent at it. And that you’ll continue doing this as long as you want. And who knows, maybe you and I will end up on another press trip together.”
Mallory was about to reply, when out of the corner of her eye she noticed a familiar silhouette. Her stomach tightened at the sight of Detective Martinez striding toward her. She quickly reminded herself that the worst was over, that she no longer had anything to fear.
“Ms. Marlowe! I’m glad I caught you,” he boomed. “If I could have a few words?”
Mallory glanced at Wade apologetically, then turned to the detective.
“Should we go someplace private?” she asked.
“Right here in the lobby is fine. I can see you’re on your way out.”
Still, he waited until they’d stepped away from the others before he resumed speaking. “Ms. Marlowe, I had a conversation with an individual in the New York police department. It seems that Phil Diamond was indeed in New York City at the time your husband died.”
Mallory drew in her breath sharply. “Go on.”
“Apparently, he had a meeting scheduled with a David Marlowe the night of your husband’s death. The cops up there questioned him at the time the incident occurred but couldn’t come up with any evidence that linked Diamond to the crime.”
It took her a few seconds to digest the implications of what he’d just told her.
“Detective Martinez,” she finally said, her voice wavering, “are you telling me that David didn’t die accidentally? That Phil Diamond murdered him?” She loosened her hands, which she realized she’d balled into fists.
“We don’t know that for certain,” the detective replied. “And to be honest, with no evidence or witnesses—and no suspect for us to question—I’m afraid we’ll probably never know the whole story.”
Wade hurried over as soon as Detective Martinez left.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
“I’m not sure,” she said in a strained voice.
The trill of her cell phone, combined with the familiar sight of her home number on the screen, reminded her that she had two children who still needed her.
She’d barely gotten out the world Hello before Amanda demanded, “Mother, when are you coming home?”
“I’m about to leave for the airport,” Mallory replied, warmed by the sound of her daughter’s voice. “I’ll be back this afternoon.”
“Too bad,” Amanda said. “I won’t have a chance to see you.” She hesitated before adding, “I decided you were right. About school, I mean.”
“You’re leaving so soon?” Even though Mallory was relieved that her daughter had finally decided to go back to school, she was disappointed that she wouldn’t have a chance to see her off.
“I’m packing up my stuff right now,” Amanda told her. “If I hurry, I can make my one o’clock economics class.”
“Does that mean you’ve finally decided between law school and business school?”
“Actually,” Amanda said hesitantly, “what I’ve decided is that I’m not ready to make a decision.” She paused to take a deep breath. “I’m thinking that after I graduate, I might take a year off to figure out what to do next. Find a job, get a little real world experience…there’s no reason to rush into anything. Not when I’m still not sure what’s best for me.”
“That sounds very sensible.” It also sounds as if the old familiar levelheaded Amanda is back, Mallory thought.
“If it’s okay with you,” Amanda continued, “I thought I’d come back home to live. I could get a job in the city and take the train in every day. That way, I’d have a chance to save some money. It would also give you and me a chance to spend some time together.”
The fact that her soon-to-be-adult daughter still wanted to spend time with her made Mallory’s eyes sting. It also lessened the pain of Jordan going back to school in a week.
“Is that okay?” Amanda asked anxiously.
“Of course it’s okay!” Mallory cried. “I’m already looking forward to it.”
“Then it’s settled.” It was clear from the sound of Amanda’s voice that she was smiling. “By the way, how was your trip? I hope it wasn’t totally boring.”
“It was anything but boring,” Mallory assured her.
“I can’t wait to hear about it. But for now, I’d better get moving if I’m going to make my econ class.”
Mallory suddenly missed both her children terribly. “Can I say hello to Jordan?”
“He went out to get some things he needs for school,” Amanda said. With a little laugh, she added, “I guess he finally got tired of sitting on that stupid couch.”
What’s that old saying about the best thing parents can do for their children is give them roots and wings? Mallory thought. I guess I managed to do that.
And I’m lucky enough to have both roots and wings, too, she realized. My home and my children are the roots that keep me grounded. And now, I’m learning how to fly.
She’d barely said good-bye to her daughter before her cell phone trilled again. Another familiar number flashed on the screen.
“Hello, Trevor,” she answered calmly.
“Mallory! Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great,” she said sincerely. “I’m going to write a fabulous article for you. By the way, you’ll be pleased to know the old Florida is alive and well. And as much fun as always.”
“I’m glad you considered your first press trip fun,” Trevor said, “given everything that went on. When are you getting back?”
“I’m on my way,” Mallory replied. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”
“Great. As soon as you get settled, give me a call. I want to talk to you about another trip.”
“I’ll do that,” Mallory said. “I can’t wait to find out where I’m going next.”
In Search of the Old Florida
PIRATES AND DINOS AND CROCS, OH MY!
by Mallory Marlowe
Once upon a time, Florida was the ultimate children’s fantasy, a land where rugged men wrestled alligators, caged tigers were displayed at gas stations, daredevils on water skis built human pyramids, and ice-cream stands were shaped like gigantic ice-cream cones.
But in today’s high-tech world, all those delightful attractions have vanished. Or have they? Does the kitsch Florida from the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s that so many of us remember fondly still exist? Has the phenomenal success of the Disney and Universal theme parks wiped out the somewhat tacky but always fun Florida of our childhood?
In short, does kitsch—best defined as bad taste in good fun—still live on in Florida, in the form of alligator farms, seashell-covered boxes, mango-flavored coconut patties, and dinosaurs glowering inside snow globes?
If you’re someone who still treasures such childhood memories, rejoice. The old Florida is indeed alive and well. Below is an overview of eight roadside attractions that are throwbacks to the Sunshine State’s simpler times—yet even today manage to bring in the crowds.
Gatorland
In this age of video games, DVDs, and countless other forms of digital fun, it’s reassuring to know that people of all ages still get a kick out of watching good old-fashioned gator wrestling. Gatorland, billed as the “Alligator Capital of the World,” not only treats visitors to down-and-dirty matches between humans and reptiles; it offers a variety of exhibits, shows, and hands-on activities that still e
mbody the kind of fun that can be found only in Florida.
In fact, since this roadside attraction first opened over fifty years ago, the park has just gotten bigger and better. Visitors enter through a humongous pair of gator jaws, setting the tone for the adventure that awaits them. In addition to serving as a preserve for hundreds of alligators—still among the creepiest and most fascinating creatures on the planet—Gatorland is home to crocodiles, snakes, insects, parrots, and even a bear, all in a lush, swampy setting. And besides real life alligator wrestling, the park features a show called Upclose Encounters that stars tarantulas and a snake so long it takes four people—unwitting volunteers from the audience whose eyes are closed—to hold it. In another outstanding exhibition, the Gator Jumparoo Show, alligators shoot into the air to snap raw chickens from the hands of the park’s braver employees.
Even the snack bar, Pearl’s Patio Smokehouse, gets into the spirit, serving up smoked gator ribs and deep-fried gator nuggets. An open-air train chugs through the Jungle Crocs of the World exhibit, with crocodiles up to twenty-seven feet long lying in wait for their next meal—hopefully not a camera-wielding tourist. All in all, Gatorland truly delivers the “Swamp Stompin’ Adventure” it promises.
Gatorland is located at 14501 South Orange Blossom Trail, Orlando (Phone: 800–393–JAWS or 407–855–5496; www.gatorland.com).
Ripley’s Believe It or Not! Orlando Odditorium
The amazing, the amusing, and the downright atrocious are all celebrated at this unique attraction, one of several Ripley’s Believe It or Not! museums throughout the country. In the Orlando branch, brazenly called an odditorium, curiosity-seekers will delight in the portrait of Lincoln made out of Lincoln pennies, the life-size Rolls-Royce constructed from over one million wooden match-sticks, and the genuine shrunken head from the Jivaro Indians of Ecuador.
The museum also pays tribute to Robert Ripley, who launched his long-lived cartoon series in the New York Globe in 1918. While his cartoon originally applauded outstanding sports achievements and was called “Champs and Chumps,” his editor suggested changing the name to “Believe It or Not!” It was an instant success, leading to several books and, in 1929, syndication in many of William Randolph Hearst’s newspapers.
Murder Packs a Suitcase Page 25