by Mary Clay
“Who did kill Stinky then?” Ruthie asked.
“Gawd, Ruthie, can’t you do some voodoo or something and find out?” Penny Sue drawled.
Oh boy, this was no time for a squabble. “Let’s go back to Pauline’s vision. The two-headed coin part’s clear. She also said we were in danger from a light-haired man.”
Penny Sue put her hands on her hips and regarded me with droopy eyes. The Wild Turkey was definitely cutting in. “Geez, Becky Leigh, we’ve already discussed this. It’s the beach. Everyone’s hair is sun-streaked.”
I nodded. “Humor me. Let’s run through the list one more time. Who have we met with light hair?”
Ruthie started, “Rick, Lyndon—he’s graying, Al, Stinky, even Robert of the Turtle Patrol has white hair.”
“And, the guy in the red pickup truck,” I added. “He was here that first day and had the fight with Rick. Heck, he’s probably the one who killed Rick.”
“We’ve already been through that,” Ruthie argued.
Charlotte shook her head emphatically. “Wait, I’ll bet he is the one! He’s probably a drug dealer who wanted Rick’s territory. Rick told me about the fight. He said the guy had been following him. Rick confronted him in the parking lot, they traded punches, then a wack—er homeowner, broke up the fight.”
“Rick called me a wacko?” Penny Sue demanded.
Zack snickered. Penny Sue gave him a look that would fry Satan.
Charlotte shook her head nervously. “No, he didn’t say that.”
“Right.” Penny Sue was ticked off.
We heard a loud scratching sound on the other side of the wall, as if Al and Gino were removing pictures. I guessed they were searching for a hidden safe.
“Where’s the money?” Ruthie asked, her cheeks still pale.
“For godssakes, it’s probably still in the darned turtle mound,” Penny Sue blurted.
“No, Al checked that,” Charlotte said.
“Checked what?”
“The turtle nest with the wreath, where Rick was killed.”
I remembered Robert, Gerty, and the defiled turtle nest. Al had done that! He was the one who dug it up, only to feign innocence and help us rebury the eggs. Eggs! “Wait, there were eggs in that nest,” I said. “It wasn’t the right one.” I looked at Charlotte. “You said Rick normally took the eggs out of the nest before the drug drop and buried the money. The nest Al dug up was full of eggs. It was the wrong nest! The money’s probably still out on the beach. There were two nests in front of our condo.”
“Right,” Penny Sue and Ruthie said in unison. Ruthie glanced at the group, then started banging on the closet door.
“Stop. What are you doing?” I said.
“I’m going to tell Al where to find the money.”
“If he knows where the money is, there’s no reason to keep us alive. That’s our trump card,” I said.
Her face went white as she slumped against the wall. Penny Sue handed her the bottle. Ruthie looked at me and took a long drink. “So, what are we going to do? Simply sit here and wait to be gunned down?” she finally managed.
I massaged my temples; my head was really pounding. “We’re going to hold out as long as we can in hopes someone,” I looked at the others, “like Woody, comes by to save us. If that doesn’t happen, then we’ll play our trump card.”
“Is there anything in here we can use as a weapon?” Zack asked quietly.
I regarded him, surprised. That was the first constructive comment he’d made since we’d been in the closet.
“A tennis racket and bocce balls,” Penny Sue answered, hefting one of the heavy wooden balls.
“I agree that we should wait until the last minute, in case anyone comes by. But, if they don’t, Ruthie bangs on the door, saying we know where the money is. When the door opens, we pelt them with the bocce balls,” I suggested.
“That’s dangerous,” Charlotte said. “They’ve got guns.”
“What’s the alternative? Becky’s right—there’s nothing to lose.” Zack replied. “We haven’t a chance in hell of getting out of here alive without outside help or taking a risk. I say we wait for help, but if that doesn’t materialize, we take the risk. It’s the only logical thing to do.”
Ruthie and Penny Sue nodded their heads. And, for once, Zack and I agreed.
* * *
Chapter 20
We’d finished our confessions, speculations and were sitting quietly, overcome by heat and the gravity of the situation, when we heard Gino stomp down the hall.
“The money’s not here,” Al declared angrily. “Let’s scram. I’ll get the stuff from the utility room, you turn on the gas stove.”
Turn on the stove! We all sat up as one. They were planning to burn the place down! Penny Sue started passing out the bocce balls.
“Ruthie and Leigh, let them have it as soon as the door opens. Penny Sue, Charlotte, and I will hold our balls in reserve. As soon as you throw, get out of the way,” Zack instructed.
He made sense, so I didn’t argue. I poked Ruthie on the arm. “Do your thing.”
Ruthie clutched the ball tightly in one hand and banged on the door with the other. “We know where the money is. Open up, Al! We know where the money is …”
Each of us gripped a wooden ball as we listened to someone fumble with the keys on the other side of the door. I held my bocce ball with both hands, trying to decide if I should throw it over handed or underhanded, and whether I should aim for the stomach or head. A hit to the head would certainly do more damage, though made for a much smaller target. Better to hit something than nothing, at all. I decided underhanded and that the stomach was the safest bet. I poised myself to throw.
The door creaked open. It was Al. Luscious, cool air rushed into the closet, and we all took a deep breath. I hadn’t realized how stuffy the place had gotten until that moment.
“Where’s the money?” Gino snarled, looming over Al’s shoulder.
“It’s here,” Ruthie shouted as we both threw our balls with all the force we could muster.
“Wha-a—” Al staggered backward, surprised but not hurt. “Bitch,” he snarled and fumbled for his gun. Gino screamed.
“AH-H-H!” Gino screeched with pain and swung around. A stream of water hit him in the face. The ugly thug fell to the floor writhing in agony. Al pivoted toward the unseen attacker, gun in hand, but I pushed him off balance. Then a stream of water hit him, too. Al collapsed beside Gino, shaking violently. I realized what had happened. The Taser. Someone had our Taser!
Ruthie and I leading the way, we all rushed out of the closet. Charlotte’s husband, Pete, stood in the hallway, the Taser at ready. I noticed Penny Sue’s pearl-handled gun stuffed in his belt.
“Pete, you saved our lives!” I stopped abruptly, noticing the glassy look in his eye. Everyone else did, too. Pete waved the Taser in our direction. Zack, Penny Sue, and Charlotte dropped their bocce balls, which rolled across the tiled floor.
“How many more, Charlotte?” Pete demanded angrily, eyes narrowed at Zack. “How many more of your lovers am I gonna have to kill?”
My jaw sagged. Pete was the killer! Charlotte backed into the living room where the television blared the coordinates of the storm.
“Pete, darling, there’s no one but you,” Charlotte implored.
He laughed coldly. Gino began to stir, and Pete Tasered him once more. Gino collapsed in a stronger wave of convulsions. Pete regarded the Taser fondly. “This is a handy little gadget. Very stimulating, don’t you think? Isn’t that what you’ve been looking for, Charlotte? Stimulation?” His lips thinned sadistically. “I think I could stimulate you real good with this baby.” He patted the reservoir for the liquid.
“No, Pete, I love you,” Charlotte whimpered, backing against the sliding glass doors. “I love only you.”
“That’s why you’ve been sleeping with everyone in town, because you love me? You thought you’d fooled me, but I knew. I’ve known for a long time. All those ni
ghts I sat at home alone, I knew what you were doing. Working, ha! You were working, all right. Working bed springs.
“Since I got this new cast, I can get around real good.” Pete patted the cast on his lower leg with the barrel of the Taser. “I’ve been following you and getting rid of your boyfriends, one by one. The one on the beach put up a fight …”
In a flash I realized why Rick’s toes had been bent at such a grotesque angle. He had kicked Pete’s cast in the scuffle.
“… the one last night never knew what hit him. You must have been real disappointed when he didn’t show.” Pete gritted his teeth and gave Al and Gino another blast from the Taser. “So disappointed you went for a little ménage en trois.”
“Pete,” the younger woman sobbed. “It’s not like that. I love you.”
He focused on Zack as if the rest of us weren’t in the room. “You just can’t get enough, can you, sweetie? I guess I’ll have to kill this pretty boy, too. I guess I’ll have to kill you all.” Pete waved the Taser back and forth as if he were going to spray the whole group of us. Spittle drooled from the corner of his mouth. Pete was definitely on something or deranged.
A wheel, spinning … The motorcycle accident! A two-headed coin … Psychotic? Schizophrenic? In that instant I realized there wasn’t going to be any reasoning with Pete. Pete shifted the Taser to his left hand and pulled out Penny Sue’s .38. “Come here, darling. Come show me how much you love me.”
Charlotte cringed against the sliding door sobbing, tears flooding down her cheeks like the rain washing across the outside of the glass.
“Come here, sugar. Don’t make me mad.”
She started toward him slowly, and I saw Pete pull back the hammer on the revolver with his thumb. I had to do something, he was going to kill her, kill us all! I looked around for a weapon and spied it on the end of the counter. Kills on Contact from Twenty Feet, the can proclaimed in bright yellow letters.
As Charlotte shuffled past me toward Pete, I saw my chance. I grabbed the can of wasp killer and pressed the button as hard as I could, aiming directly for Pete’s face. I hit my mark. Pete reflexively squeezed the trigger on the .38—fortunately, the shot went wild—and on the Taser, which hit Zack in the groin and Charlotte in the foot. They both fell to the floor as Penny Sue and Ruthie ran for cover. I stooped low and kept spraying. Pete staggered backward dropping the Taser and the gun as he struggled to shield his face from the foul smelling poison.
Then, suddenly, the front door blew open, and a torrent of rain, palm fronds and debris gusted down the hall. Somewhere in the melee Deputy Moore materialized along with the man from the red pickup truck! Only this time the mysterious man was wearing a black tee shirt—a tee shirt emblazoned with the letters DEA.
In a matter of minutes it was over. Pete, Al, Gino, and Charlotte were in handcuffs and being led to patrol cars. Zack managed to scramble to the sofa, where he lay clutching his crotch and moaning. Penny Sue stood in the corner, nursing a diet cola, while Ruthie rummaged for the Rescue Remedy to treat Zack. I knew where it was, but didn’t tell her. As far as I was concerned, the location of the injury was clearly karmic, and I certainly didn’t want to interfere with the Universal Flow.
Deputy Moore returned from helping secure the prisoners. He checked on Zack, who claimed to be mortally wounded. Moore assured him the pain would pass shortly. Then he sauntered alongside me and patted my shoulder. “Nice going, Hot Shot,” he commented with a wide grin. “You saved everyone’s lives. Although we had the place surrounded, I’m not sure we could have saved you if Gino’d succeeded in setting the fire.”
“Why didn’t you intervene earlier?” I asked, peeved they let us suffer in the closet for so long.
“Couple of reasons. We were waiting on heat sensors to help us pinpoint your location. Rushing in blindly would have put you at risk. Second, we wanted to see who else would show up. We thought Lyndon Fulbright might be involved. We never figured on Pete—that was a complete surprise.”
“You and me both. Of all the people we considered, we never thought he was the murderer. Speaking of surprises,” I said, remembering the money, “There’s a half a million dollars buried on the beach.”
Deputy Moore reached in his pocket and pulled out a wet hundred dollar bill. “Not anymore. Hurricane Lizzie just gave the good people of New Smyrna Beach an early Christmas present.”
“You’re kidding!” I ran down the hall and out the front door. I was drenched by rain and had to struggle to keep my footing in the storm, but I didn’t care. It’s an amazing sight to see a half million dollars swirling in gale force winds.
* * *
Chapter 21
Hurricane Lizzie Dumps Dollars From Heaven
NEW SMYRNA BEACH, FL—Fate smiled on the small oceanfront community of New Smyrna Beach once again. Known for never taking a direct hit from a hurricane, grateful residents awoke this morning to blue skies, sunshine, and lawns littered with hundred dollar bills.
Both the New Smyrna and Volusia County Police Departments declined to comment; however, the money is rumored to be from a drug drop that was buried on the beach. Unofficial sources speculate that rough seas from Hurricane Lizzie unearthed the stash, while gale force winds scattered the money up and down the coast.
When asked what residents should do if they find any of the cash, a police spokesman said, “Until someone comes forward to establish ownership, it’s basically a case of finders-keepers…”
Ruthie angled the paper so Penny Sue and I could read the article. We were sitting at the kitchen counter drinking coffee and eating bagels with cream cheese and Jalapeño pepper jelly. Directly behind us, a locksmith was putting the finishing touches on a new deadbolt for the owner’s closet. The first thing Penny Sue did when she got up that morning was to arrange to have the locks changed and the closet deadbolt replaced with a model that opened from the inside.
“I don’t think the finders have anything to worry about.” Penny Sue laughed. “I doubt that Al or Gino will come forward to claim the money. A fitting end to the vacation, don’t you think?”
“It seems a shame to leave now” Ruthie replied, “with everyone celebrating because of the windfall—”
“That’s good, Ruthie. Very punny,” Penny Sue said.
“—and Biketoberfest starts today.” Ruthie winked at Penny Sue, who grinned devilishly.
Biketoberfest? I thought of Jonathan McMillan, Penny’s biker-banker friend, and the prospect of thousands of men, many wealthy executives, swarming New Smyrna Beach decked out in black leather. “No,” I said forcefully. “I really must go home to pack up the house.”
“Just kidding” Ruthie added quickly. “Have you thought anymore about what you’re going to do?”
I glanced at Penny Sue and smiled. “I’m coming back to stay here for a while. The Judge says I can use the condo for as long as I’d like.”
“Besides,” Penny Sue paused to suck jelly from her index finger, “Ruthie and I will have to return to testify at the hearings, so we DAFFODILS can have a little reunion. Next time we’ll just relax on the beach.”
Yeah, right, the thought had hardly formed when I heard the doorbell rang.
“Who could that be?” Penny Sue fluttered down the hall in another cotton gauze outfit. She returned a minute later with Zack and Woody.
The men bellied-up to the counter like old friends, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from Ruthie and a bagel from Penny Sue. Zack even agreed to try some of the pepper jelly. I knew they were up to something.
“Everything’s straightened out,” my ex said to Penny Sue. “Pete and Charlotte gave statements which clear you completely. The police will have to keep your gun, though. Pete stole it during your party and used it to kill Clarence.”
Penny Sue inclined her head solemnly, eyeing Woody.
Woody cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you,” he said. “I hope you know I was only doing my job.”
Penny Sue nodded c
oldly. She toyed with her bagel, scooping cream cheese on her finger and licking it.
Zack honed in on me. “Al is a big drug kingpin. The FBI and DEA have been after him for years. The man in the red pickup truck was a DEA agent who’d been following Rick.”
Zack definitely wanted something.
Woody stepped in. “You girls—”
“Women,” Penny Sue corrected forcefully.
“Women,” Woody said quickly. “No offense intended.” He paused, searching for words.
Penny Sue looked Zack in the eye. “What do the two of you want?”
Zack cleared his throat. “As I said, Al was a key drug kingpin—”
“And?” I asked. “Get on with it, Zack.”
He swallowed, hard. “CNN would like to do an interview.”
“With us?” Penny Sue asked.
“You, Ruthie, Leigh,” he almost choked on my name, “Woody and I.” The last two names were mumbled under his breath.
I regarded Zack and Woody with amusement. The two bums just wanted to be on TV! Their humble apologies were nothing more than a manipulation to get thirty seconds of fame. Before I could chastise them for being shameless hams, the doorbell rang, again. This time it was Deputy Ted Moore and Special Agent J. D. Westcott, a.k.a. Mr. Red Pickup, of the Federal Drug Enforcement Administration. Deputy Moore shook hands with Zack and Woody, who were unusually humble.
“You ladies are incredible,” Special Agent Westcott said enthusiastically. “I’ve been after those guys for months. You’re very brave—a lesser person would be dead now.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I want to apologize for frightening you,” he said, glancing at Deputy Moore. “I was about to arrest Rick when you came on the scene. After our encounter in the parking lot, I wasn’t sure whose side you were on. So, I followed you for a while. I hope you understand, it’s standard procedure.”
We all nodded.