Mangrove Madness: An Ernestine Ernie Pratt Mystery (Ernestine Ernie Pratt Adventures Book 1)

by J. C. Ferguson

  She doesn’t answer.

  “We’re trying to help, ma’am,” Jeremy prods.

  “The reason we’re looking for Maria Sanchez is we think we found her son, Manuel.” I butt into the conversation. Can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. I figure she might be more cooperative if she knows about Manuel.

  A smile lights her face. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Where is he?”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” Jeremy says. “I need to know what the problem is in Miami.”

  “I don’t want to get anyone into trouble.” Her worried frown reappears.

  “If you don’t explain what’s going on, how can we help?” I ask. Jeremy gives me the look.

  She takes a deep breath. “A man in the apartment building is a drug dealer.”

  “Yes,” Jeremy says. “We ran into him.”

  “He also had something to do with getting them passage from Cuba. He took Manuel to keep them quiet about the drugs.”

  Whoa! A whole different story here.

  Jeremy goes into high gear. He walks out the front door with his cell, leaving me staring at a frightened Mrs. Vasquez.

  “Are you a policewoman? Where is Manuel?” she asks in the same breath.

  “No, I’m a private investigator.” I show her my license. “Manuel is safe.” I don’t tell her that he’s with my mother. My gut says don’t tell anyone.

  “I want to see him.”

  “I don’t have any control over that, ma’am.”

  There’s something more about the drug guy in Miami. I can feel it. It doesn’t make sense. If these people are smuggled in to the country, they’re not going to mention some drugs coming with them. Should I ask? I can’t stand the thought of going away without asking.

  “Mrs. Vasquez, is there something more about the drug dealer you aren’t telling us?”

  She slumps in her chair and looks at her feet.

  “What harm can it do to tell me? I have no connection with anyone in Miami. No one will know. They didn’t really take Manuel to keep people from talking about drugs, did they?”

  “I think someone stole the drugs. Someone on the sailboat. They believe our friends who came from Cuba had something to do with it. So they kept little Manuel.” An involuntary sob escapes. “Thank heaven he’s safe. I want to bring him here to stay with me.”

  “Are they related to you? The Cubans? Manuel?”

  “Maria and Felipe are my sobrina y sobrino, my niece and nephew.” Her English falters and her voice cracks. “They are the ones who were coming to see us. Manuel is Maria’s muchacho. The others who came with them are not familia; they are amigos of Maria and Felipe from Havana.” Now she is outright crying, choking on her words. I can’t stand it. I can feel my own tears threatening.

  “It wouldn’t be safe for Manuel to come here. You don’t want him kidnapped again and we need to find his mother.”

  Mrs. Vasquez nods. I hope she understands.

  Jeremy returns. “What did you do to her, Pratt?” he whispers in my ear.

  “We were talking about her niece and nephew, Maria and Felipe.”

  “Mrs. Vasquez. I’m sorry if we troubled you,” he says.

  “No, no. I was upset already. Did you find anything?”

  “There were no accidents on either highway between here and Miami. Fort Myers and Naples always have accidents, but none today that sent anyone to the hospital. I’m sorry, I didn’t find anything.” He looks like he wants to give her a hug. After all, she’s a damsel in distress.

  Her eyes are red and makeup smeared. “Please let me know if you find them.”

  “Yes, I will.” He backsteps across the room toward the door. I follow.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her as we leave.

  “Let me know when I can see Manuel.”

  Chapter 28

  On the way to Jeremy’s house, I call Mom to let her know we’re in town.

  “Did you find Manuel’s mother?”

  “No. They’re lost somewhere between here and Miami.” I don’t bother to go into the drug guys and the threats.

  “Are you coming home tonight?”

  “Don’t know, yet.” Jeremy hasn’t asked if I’ll stay and I don’t know if I want to. Of course you do, Pratt. Why try to fool yourself?

  “Anything you need?”

  “No. We took Manuel on a trip to Fort Myers today. He loved the super market.” I’ll bet there's a story to be told.

  “Okay. I’ll see you when I get there.”

  “Wait. A ‘Susan’ called you and left her number.” She rattles it off and I save it in my contacts. I wasn’t getting any response at the number I had.

  “Are you going to tell me what Mrs. Vasquez told you?” Jeremy asks when I finish the call.

  “Who says she told me anything?”

  He pulls into his drive and flips a switch that locks all the doors on the cruiser. “You’re not moving until you talk.”

  “I was going to tell you, but forget it. Not when you treat me like a prisoner. Might as well take me to jail and get it over with.” I cross my arms over my chest to emphasize my point.

  “No need. I could leave you here all night.” Jeremy opens his door and I scramble to escape across his lap.

  He gives me a pat on the ass and lets me out the door. I kind of roll onto the ground. He sits in the car, laughing.

  “How about a bribe. I take you to dinner and you tell me what you know.”

  “What’s with this dinner thing? You always want to take me to dinner. You just took me to Mickey D’s.”

  “Isn’t that what a girl wants, to be wined and dined? Besides, I like to eat.”

  “I don’t eat out that much. I'd as soon go to breakfast.” Whoa! That didn’t sound right. “And I don’t have anything to wear tonight.” My white jeans are dirty after rolling on his driveway.

  “What about the outfit you wore last night.”

  “You forget, it’s ruined, has a hole in the knee. Lucky it doesn’t have a bullet hole in the chest.”

  “Okay, babe. If you stay, I’ll cook you dinner. But to be fed, you have to tell me what you learned from Mrs. Vasquez.”

  “I don’t know what to make of it.” I tell Jeremy as we head into his house.

  “Make of what?”

  “How did Manuel end up on the island if the drug guys kidnapped him?”

  “Maybe he did jump off the boat and maybe the drug dealers were lying when they told the Cubans that they had him.” Jeremy says. “It does seem strange that they would do that. These people probably smuggle humans and drugs at the same time a lot, and the Cubans would have no reason to talk about it. The whole thing doesn’t make sense.”

  “Wow! Our thought processes are on the same track.”

  “Now that’s scary.”

  “That’s exactly why I was asking Mrs. Vasquez more questions.” I head for the bathroom, pretending to be finished with the conversation.

  “What did she tell you, Pratt?” Jeremy places his large self in front of me.

  He’s grinning. No use playing this game if he’s not going to get aggravated. “She told me that the crew on the sailboat stole the drugs and the drug guys thought the Cubans were in on it. So they took the boy.”

  His smile disappears. “Damn! This is getting complicated. We’d better put a protection detail on Jessica and Manuel.”

  “Mom might not like that. She thinks she can look out for herself.”

  “If it’s Big Jim, maybe she won’t mind.”

  He has me there. Besides, I can’t argue when I have to pee.

  When I return from the bathroom, Jeremy’s talking on his mobile in the kitchen, cutting veggies at the same time. This man is obsessed with food. I make hand gestures, offering help, but he shakes his head and almost loses his phone. I give up and wander into the living room.

  I try Susan’s number and get her recording. Then I try the number where I first reached her and she answers. “Susan, this is Ernie Pratt. What can
I do for you?”

  “I need to see you. Not here at work. Can I meet you somewhere?” She’s almost whispering.

  “Do you have a car?”

  “Yes. Name a place and I’ll come see you.”

  “I’m at someone’s house. Give me a minute and I’ll call you back.”

  “Okay.” She clicks off.

  In the kitchen, Jeremy has finished his call. “I talked to Susan Bain. She wants me to meet her somewhere. Kinda hard when I don’t have a car.”

  “I’ll take you, or tell her to come here.”

  I call again. “Susan, do you know your way around Fort Myers? Can you find this address?” I give her directions to Jeremy’s. “If that’s too far, I could meet you half way. We’re at the opposite end of Fort Myers, about fifteen or twenty miles away.”

  “I know where it is. It’s okay.”

  “Don’t be surprised when you get here and there’s a cruiser in the driveway. My friend is a deputy sheriff.”

  Silence.

  “Hey, Susan, he’s cool. He’s not going to turn you in or anything.”

  Still silence.

  “If you don’t want to come here, I’ll meet you somewhere.”

  “No, it’s okay.” Again, she clicks off abruptly.

  “Strange girl.” I comment to my phone.

  “Is she coming here?” Jeremy asks.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Better cook enough for three.”

  I check the fish he’s marinating and the pile of veggies. “Looks like you have enough for six.”

  “You have a good appetite, Pratt.” He puts everything into the fridge. “It’ll be a while before she gets here. Rush hour.”

  “You weren’t planning on eating right away, were you? We just had lunch.”

  “It’s been an hour or two since you wolfed down that burger.” He points a carrot stick at my mouth and I chomp on it. He eats the other half.

  “So what did you find out?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?” He gives me a blank look. Now he’s playing my game.

  “Your calls. What did you find out?”

  “Big Jim’s going to make sure nothing happens to your mom and Manuel. Is that what you mean?” He tries not to smile.

  “There’s more. Cough up, Deputy Thorpe. I promise I’ll share everything with you from now on.”

  “Hmmm... Everything? That could be interesting.”

  “I meant information, but I can think of a few other things.” I slide around the counter and snuggle next to him.

  “How much time do we have before Susan shows?” He looks at his watch.

  “Information first. We can play after she leaves.”

  “I can talk and play at the same time.” He tosses me over his shoulder and carries me into the bedroom.

  Chapter 29

  Jeremy and I are finishing our shower when the doorbell rings. Susan’s early, and Jeremy still hasn’t talked. I hurry into the bedroom and scramble to get dressed. Jeremy pulls on shorts and tee as he heads for the door. When I arrive, Susan is standing in the doorway like she’s going to bolt. She looks better than before—not drugged out and not painted with makeup. But her cheeks are sunken, and the bleach blonde hair doesn’t help. A skinny little waif.

  “Hi, Susan. Did you meet Jeremy? Come on in.” I reach for her hand as if she’s a scared child. I guess maybe she is. Jeremy steps back and she cautiously moves into the house.

  We convince her to stay for dinner. Her eyes follow Jeremy as he cooks and serves. He offers her a glass of wine or a beer, but she shakes her head. She’s hardly spoken a word since she came through the door. At first, she picks at the meal, but either the good taste of the food or starvation takes over and she gobbles it.

  “You two talk. I’ll clean up.” Jeremy herds us into the living room.

  Susan sinks into the big leather couch and I sit at the other end. “He doesn’t look like a cop.” She finally speaks.

  “Not in shorts he doesn’t.” Not bare-assed naked, either. I smile at the thought of a badge pinned to his bare chest.

  “You’ll tell him, won’t you?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to. If you were a client, I wouldn’t be allowed to tell anyone what you say unless you’d committed a serious crime, like murder.”

  “Can I be your client?”

  I just look at her. She probably couldn’t even afford the gas to get over here. She’s on drugs; all her money goes up in smoke, in her veins, or up her nose. Plus, she can’t be making much money as a bank teller.

  “I’ll treat you as a client and we’ll talk about it later.” Jeez, Pratt, you’ve got to quit giving away your time.

  “I have money. I can pay.” She pulls a wad of cash from her pocket. “How much do you charge?”

  I give her my spiel about hourly rate plus expenses. “But if that’s illegal money, I don’t want it.”

  “You think I’ve been dealing or something?”

  Yes, I do. But I don’t answer.

  “I earned this money fair and square, at The Dance Shack on Fort Myers Beach. I quit that job and went to work at the bank. No more drugs, no more dancing for the creeps, and I moved out of that awful house where you found me.”

  “What? You went cold turkey? You don’t look that bad.” It hasn’t even been a week since I saw her stoned on who knows what.

  “I was only doing stuff on my days off. I wasn’t that much into it.”

  I take a deep breath. I don’t need this. “Okay. But let’s talk, then I’ll decide if I can help you. If I can’t help, I won’t take your money, but I’ll keep what you say confidential.”

  Susan tells me a wild story about some mean-looking dudes barging into the house looking for George Stark and Bruce Mondrone. The men claimed George and Bruce had stolen drugs from them. They trashed the house, took all their drugs and money, and beat up one of the guys. That’s when she moved out.

  “How did they miss your money?”

  “It was in my car. I was going to put it in the bank where I work.” She draws her feet under her.

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “Don’t the cops check if you put too much money in at once?” Those blue eyes look so innocent.

  “Ten thousand, I think.”

  “Oh. No problem. I don’t have that much.” She stares at the money in her hand.

  “What is it you think I can do for you?”

  “I want you to protect me from those creeps that broke into our house.”

  “I’m not a bodyguard, Susan. And I don’t think they’ll be back. Not unless George and Bruce show their faces again.”

  “But can you find them? The ones who threatened us?”

  “I don’t know where to start. I don’t even know what they look like.”

  “I can tell you.” She has a lost puppy look about her. I’ll bet Jeremy would help the damsel in distress.

  “The sheriff’s department might be able to help.”

  “You weren’t going to tell anyone.”

  “I won’t if you don’t want me to. But they could help you.”

  “I’ll get into trouble, and everyone at the house will get busted.”

  “No, I don’t think so. They’d be more interested in the dealers.” I’ll have to run this by Jeremy to be sure.

  Speak of the devil, Jeremy pokes his head in and asks if we want coffee. Susan goes pale.

  “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. Her whole body is trembling. Jeremy disappears.

  “You don’t have to talk to him. Is there anything else you want to tell me in private?”

  “I heard from George today. He’s somewhere in the area. Wanted to know if he could come see me.”

  Oh, shit! Trouble brewing. But maybe Alex is with him. “What did you tell him?”

  “I said no way. He’s going to call me back, though.”

  “Did you tell him where you’re living now?”

 
; “No.”

  “Good girl. Maybe you can meet him somewhere away from home. You don’t want him to lead the bad guys to you.”

  Susan scrunches into the couch.

  “When did the men come to the house on the beach?”

  “Sunday.”

  “When did you move out?”

  “Sunday.” She seems to get smaller and smaller, disappearing into the cushions.

  “Are you staying with anyone? A friend?”

  “I’m living alone in an apartment off the beach.”

  “How did you find something so fast?” She must have used connections. Someone could easily track her.

  “I’ve been looking for over a month, since I started my new job. I called and moved in early.” Even her voice is disappearing. I lean closer.

  “So you didn’t get the place through friends who could tell someone where you went.”

  “No one knows. Not even the bank.” Barely a whisper.

  “Good. Let’s have coffee with Jeremy and you can decide if you want to tell him anything.” I hold out my hand to rescue her from vanishing between the cushions. She takes it like a trusting child.

  #

  As the evening wears on, Susan begins to relax and accept Jeremy as a regular guy and not just a cop. He even makes her smile a couple of times. Of course, that means he’s not talking shop, so I don’t know what he learned on the phone. Since Susan is trying to go drug free and that includes alcohol, we all stick to drinking coffee and soda.

  “Are you still living at Fort Myers Beach, Susan?” Jeremy asks.

  “No, I moved closer to work.”

  “You want to tell Jeremy the other reasons you moved?”

  She tenses and shuts up. There you go, Pratt, spoiling Jeremy’s good work. He had her chilling out. At least she can’t disappear into a stool at the kitchen counter.

  “You don’t have to tell me anything,” Jeremy says. “But I might be able to help. I promise not to throw you in jail unless you committed a major felony like killing your mother.”

  That gets a nervous titter from Susan.

  “If you’re worried about ratting on someone, you can stay anonymous. If you’re worried about getting friends in trouble, don’t tell me their names. I would like to help.”

  “Some drug dealers ransacked the house at the Beach,” she blurts it out.