by Janie DeVos
“Well, after what we went through over the last couple of days, I feel like I’ve known him for a lifetime,” I quipped.
“Was it awfully dangerous, Lily? Were you absolutely terrified?” Her brow furrowed and her tone changed to one of deep concern.
“Not really, Olivia. In all honesty, Scott took good care of me.”
Her brow relaxed. “I bet he did, Lily.” She smiled smugly as she laid her head back again. “I bet he did.”
Chapter 36
The Patient Snake
We stopped at Jepp’s Ice Cream Shoppe, just several blocks from home. Though we were both exhausted, we were anxious worrying about Daddy and Granddaddy going to see Buddy. Though their relationship had always been amiable enough, with Buddy helping us find the right men to run the poker tables on the Full House, and Grandma feeding him well most every day, the fact remained that he helped to run a syndicate of seedy people in Miami’s violent underworld. It was not uncommon to read about someone from a rival gang coming to a nasty end, or simply disappearing, or even one of his own people if it was felt that person had somehow double-crossed Buddy.
We sat on a wrought iron bench outside of Jepp’s, eating our ice cream cones as the shop’s brand new, annoyingly bright pink neon sign flashed off and on above our heads, while its equally annoying electric monotone humming caused us to have to raise our voices to be heard over it. I asked Olivia more questions about her terrible ordeal, but she wasn’t able to give me much more information. I knew she wasn’t trying to hold anything back. She just simply couldn’t recall any more than what she’d already told me. We went through the alphabet again, trying to jar her memory about the name of the boat, but just like before, it did no good.
“I’m sorry, Lily. I’ll keep trying to remember all I can,” she said before quickly intercepting a drop of melted vanilla ice cream threatening to fall from her cone onto her navy pleated mid-calf cotton skirt.
“Maybe after a good night’s sleep, you’ll remember more,” I said without much conviction. I took another bite out of the mound of peach ice cream topping my cone.
I looked up at the stars that were just starting to appear in the darkening royal blue sky and sighed. In just the course of a week’s time, so much had changed in my family’s world. Olivia and I had been involved in running illegal liquor, and she’d almost been killed for it. I’d gone gallivanting off to the Bahamas, with a man who was known for living life on the edge, and with some pretty dangerous people. Now, our father and grandfather were hunting down a mobster who was one of the most dangerous of them all. God only knew what would take place once they found Buddy. I just prayed they’d both keep a cool head. But I also knew how protective those two men were of the women in our family.
Pushing aside thoughts of what might occur, I tried to focus my mind on something else. I wondered what Scott was doing. He said he was going to go talk to Chick, and I wondered if he’d done so. I also wondered if they’d worked out who would pick up the liquor from the Seminole village, as well as the lighthouse, assuming the latter hadn’t been confiscated by the border patrol. I hoped Scott wouldn’t be involved in it, and had simply told Chick the location of the key to get into the lighthouse, as well as where the whiskey was stored in the cache at the village. I hoped Scott was back home by now, and away from Chick. There was no doubt about it; Chick was one of the most ruthless people I’d ever met. I was always on edge wondering what he was going to do next to force my grandparents to shut their hotel.
I’d once asked Granddaddy why he didn’t do something about it, and, in his usual smooth, controlled style, he simply said that a snake, while waiting for its prey, stays completely still until it has the perfect opportunity to take it down. If it strikes too early, chances are, the prey will get away. And if the snake waits too long, it takes the risk of losing its prey to another predator. “But,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “there is always that perfect second to strike and then BAM!” He’d clapped his hands together sharply, making me jump. “The snake’s got its prey and is rewarded with a full belly and a nap in the sun.”
I smiled at his analogy. “So, Granddaddy, are you sayin’ you’re just waiting to strike?”
“Have I ever told you, Granddaughter, that chicks are one of the snake’s favorite foods?” he asked, with a sly little smile.
“No.”
“Well, they are. And the bigger they are, the fuller the snake’s belly will be.”
The honking of a car’s horn on Biscayne Boulevard startled me back to the present. Looking around, I realized that a lot more lights had come on in the buildings around us.
“We need to finish up, Olivia. It’s getting late.” I smiled as I watched my sister spin the cone around while holding her tongue against the ice cream. “I’d venture to guess that’s pretty good vanilla.”
“That’s it!” Olivia exclaimed, startling me as well as everyone around us.
“Keep your voice down,” I admonished, swiveling my head to see people staring at us. “What do you mean, ‘That’s it’?”
“You asked me how my vanilla was!”
“So?” I shrugged.
“So, that’s the name of the boat: The Vanilla!”
“Are you sure, Olivia?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she whispered heatedly. “Those men—the ones who beat me—talked about loading up the Vanilla, and gettin’ back to Buddy. I’m positive!”
“We gotta go,” I said, standing up and wiping my mouth with a napkin before tossing it and the remainder of my cone into a trash can.
Suddenly, I felt like a snake ready to catch some prey.
Chapter 37
A Picture Is Worth…
No one was home yet when Olivia and I got there. I knew I needed to call Scott, but first I needed to call Mama. If Daddy built a boat named the Vanilla for someone, Mama would have a file on it, and it would be cross-referenced under the name of the client as well as under the name of the boat.
I dialed the number of the marina’s office, but there was no answer. Mama must be on her way home. Next, I looked all over for Scott’s number but couldn’t find the small piece of paper I’d written it on. Then I remembered that it was in my duffle bag back in the hotel room where I’d changed earlier that afternoon. When I’d left for home, I’d taken my purse but had left the other bag behind.
“Olivia,” I called from my bedroom as I changed out of the dress I’d been dancing in and into a pair of tan canvas pants and a black cotton shirt. “I have to run an errand.”
“Where’re you goin’, Lily?” She came out of her room and into mine. “Mama’ll kill you if you’re not here when she gets home.”
“Let me worry about that,” I said impatiently. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
Just then, we heard the front door open, and Mama called out to us.
Cursing under my breath that I’d not left before she got home, I sat down on my bed to tie the laces on my saddle shoes and then hurried downstairs.
“Mama, I’ve got to go check something on file at the marina. I tried to call you there but you’d already left.”
“What?” Mama asked, alarm etching furrows in her brow. She was standing between the front door and me. “What in the world do you need at the marina? Whatever it is, it can wait ’til the morning. Lord, Lily! The last thing I need is for you to go traipsing off now. It’s enough that your father and gr—”
“Listen to me, Mama!” I said, gently grabbing her by her upper arms. “I know you’re worried sick about all of us, but right now, we’re in some real trouble and the only way to get out of it is to get down to the truth of what’s really going on. I need to look up some information in our files and do it now, and you’ve just got to trust me on this! Okay?” I said, searching her eyes. She still hadn’t answered so I tried another tactic. “Mama, you know you�
��d be doing the same if the shoe was on the other foot.”
“Go,” she replied softly, trying to hold back tears. I knew she was scared to death for all of us. I was, too.
“I’ll be back shortly.”
I moved past her and grabbed my keys off the narrow mahogany console table in the hallway, then hurried out to my car and drove over to Scott’s. Before I went riffling through the records at the marina, I wanted to tell him what Olivia had remembered about the men and see if a boat named the Vanilla rang any bells with him. I also wanted to know if he had seen Chick and tell him that Daddy and Granddaddy had gone looking for Buddy DeMario.
I parked right in front of Scott’s apartment building and took the elevator up the six floors. Rapping sharply on his door, I waited for an answer. After getting none, I turned to walk away, but just then the door swung open.
“I just tried calling you,” he said, looking relieved and holding the door open wide for me. Quickly shutting it behind me, we moved into the kitchen. “Your sister said you were going to the marina to look through some files. What’s going on?”
Accepting the bottle of beer Scott held out to me, I took a good swig before continuing. “My family knows everything; that Olivia’s been involved in smuggling and was beaten, and that you and I went to the Bahamas to replace the liquor stolen, etc. etc.”
“That’s just great,” Scott uttered sarcastically as I continued.
“I was called to Granddaddy’s office after I’d finished my dancing lessons, and my parents, grandparents and Olivia were all there waiting for me.” After taking another swallow of beer, I asked, “Did you see Chick?”
“No, he wasn’t there,” Scott said, pulling out a chair from the small kitchen table and straddling it. “Sit down,” he said, pointing to the other chair with the mouth of his beer bottle. I did and he continued. “Judith, his secretary, said he’d already left and she wasn’t sure if or when he’d be back, so I went to the Lemon Tree. He wasn’t there either, and no one knew if he was coming in, so I came on home and called you. Did you talk to your sister about the men who beat her?”
“Yes. She remembered a few things, though I don’t know how much they’ll help. Olivia said that the one who really worked her over good was bald, and that he had bulging eyes —like an ogre, she said.” I tried to smile, but exhaustion and worry were wearing me down.
Scott narrowed his eyes as though he was thinking about something; then he set his beer on the table and leaned in toward me. “What else did she say, Lily?” His tone was flat, unreadable.
Watching him closely, I continued. “She said that another one had a scar across his cheek. A diagonal one, like this.” I drew my finger across my cheek at an angle.
“His right cheek?” Scott asked, his voice growing slightly louder. “A real bad one?”
“Yes, it was a bad one on his right cheek. Why?”
“Oh, shit, Lily! Are you sure? You’re positive she said that?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” I cried. “Why? What is it, Scott? You’re scaring me!”
“It’s a sting, Lily! Damn it! I should have realized that!” He ran his hand through his hair in angry frustration and stood up. “Olivia got caught up in a sting. But the real bull’s eye isn’t on your sister, sweetheart,” he said, tightly gripping the back of the chair he’d just vacated.
“Then who’s it on?”
“Your family, Lily. Your whole damn family,” he said as he slid the chair back in place at the table.
Adrenaline shot through my body. “Who would do that, Scott? Who?” I asked, rising.
“Chick Belvedere, that’s who,” he replied grimly. “Those guys your sister described are Chick’s thugs, not Buddy’s. That son of a bitch is trying to do all of you in at once, but why? Why now? That’s the big question.” He was quiet for a minute, thinking, as he gripped the top of his chair. I didn’t utter a word. I couldn’t. My mouth had gone bone dry.
“Lily,” Scott continued. “We’ve got to find your father and grandfather, and now!”
Following him out of the kitchen, I suddenly remembered the boat. “Scott, Olivia said that Buddy’s men—I mean, Chick’s, or whoever they are—came to Key Biscayne in a boat that looked like one Daddy had built, and she said it was named the Vanilla.”
He looked skeptical. “The Vanilla? Are you sure?”
“That’s what she said,” I replied.
“If your father did build it, you’d have that information at the marina, right?” he asked, and I told him we would. “Let’s stop there before we look for your father. It’s on the way to Buddy’s office. I’ll follow you to the marina so that you won’t have to bring me back here afterward. Let me grab my keys.” He hurried over to the coffee table in the living room where they lay. Snatching them up, he started to turn away, but stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait a minute,” he said, walking toward the bank of photographs on his wall. “The Vanilla?” he asked again.
“That’s what she said.” I was anxious to get going.
Scott walked back to the coffee table and lifted the lid on a small, ornately carved oriental-style wooden box. In it were odds and ends, including a magnifying glass, which he took over to one of the photographs on the wall. Moving up beside him, I saw it was the picture of the boat speeding away from the camera in Biscayne Bay, with a dark-haired person at the helm.
He held the magnifying glass up to it. “There! Take a look at that,” he said, handing me the glass. “Look at the name on the transom!”
Examining the photo, I could tell that the boat was running at a good clip because spray was shooting up and out from the motor at the stern. Even with the veil of water, I could still read the name on the transom with the help of the magnifying glass: The Venilia.
When I looked questioningly at Scott, he smiled. “Lily, I’d be willing to bet that’s the Vanilla your sister was talking about. I think she just misunderstood the name when they said it.”
“Does Chick own it?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” Scott replied, slipping on a tan linen jacket from a coat rack in the hallway. “If he does own it, then that’s just more proof he staged this whole thing. He’s gonna sit back and watch your family take Buddy out, or vice versa. Either way, Chick wins. Two of his biggest adversaries will be out for each other’s blood. As an added bonus, Chick gets a whole load of liquor free. C’mon, we gotta hurry,” he said unnecessarily. I was already halfway out the door.
Chapter 38
The Wind and Sea Goddess
The lights from homes and businesses reflected off the Miami River, creating abstract patterns that moved and undulated slowly with the water’s current. Some of the brightest light was cast by the yellow-colored sodium vapor lamp sitting atop a twenty-foot pole illuminating the Strickland Watercraft’s dock, and the parking lot adjacent to it.
As I sat in my car, waiting for Scott to pull into the empty lot, I looked down the river toward my family’s home. From my vantage point, I could only make out the dock and one of Daddy’s runabouts tied up to it. I wondered if he’d gotten home yet.
Just then, headlights reflected in my rearview mirror and Scott pulled in beside me. Without either of us saying a word, we walked up to the marina’s back door. Using one of the many keys on my key ring, I let us into the kitchen area of the building, which was illuminated only by the street light outside. Two small lights had been left on in the building. One was in Daddy’s office, which he left on every evening when he closed up, and the other was in the large warehouse where the boats were built. Walking toward the muted light of Daddy’s office, I glanced around at the darkened spaces and was glad I wasn’t by myself.
“Here’s his office,” I said, stopping at a door on my left. The lamp that guided us there was sitting on top of Daddy’s secretary’s desk, while the door to his office was locked tight, with no light showing under
the bottom. Using another key on my ring, I unlocked the inner office door, and feeling the wall to my right, I located the light switch and turned it on. Immediately, our new florescent lights illuminated every nook and cranny. While I was glad to be able to see everything clearly, I still found the new type of lighting harsh, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust to it.
“Okay, here they are,” I said, nodding toward a bank of filing cabinets on our left. Each drawer in each of the cabinets had a copper plate on it with a specific letter etched into it. The first cabinet in the line contained the B drawer. As I started to pull it open, I pointed out some filing cabinets lined up against the back wall and asked Scott to look in the B and V drawers of those.
“The files I’m checking contain customers from 1927 through today. Yours are from the years prior to that. We keep them here in this office for five years. After that, they’re stored in boxes up in the attic.”
As I looked through the current customers whose last name started with B, I came to a file with the name “Beecher” written across the top, then one for “Billot” directly behind it. But there wasn’t one for “Belvedere” in between.
I started to pull open the V drawer when I thought I heard Scott say something. Glancing over at him, I started to ask if he was talking to me, but the look on his face stopped me. Holding an open file out in front of him, Scott said in a stunned voice, “Oh, my God, Lily. Oh, my God.” His face had literally lost its color.
Hurrying over to him, I took the file, and saw that it was from December 1926. Below that was the name of the craft: The Venilia, and directly below that was the name of the person the boat was being built for. Scott, watching me closely, reached out to steady me when my knees started to give, but I continued to stare down at the person’s name as though I couldn’t fully comprehend what I was reading. The Venilia was built for Laura Aldrich.