Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves

by Marty Ambrose

  “More than you could imagine.” Her carefully outlined lips curled. “I was trailer trash just like you when I married into the Palmer family. I wanted all the things Bryan could give me: the money, the mansion, the jewels. And I don’t intend to give them up. When I saw a copy of the pre-nup in Homer’s office, I realized Gina was a threat to my little world, and I wasn’t about to let her bring it down. Bryan didn’t know, of course. Not about Alberto’s patent for Palmer’s Pride or Gina’s pre-nup stating that she would receive all the mango profits if she and Brett divorced.” Her voice took on a hard edge. “I knew Brett was besotted enough to sign that thing, so I had to get rid of her before he had a chance to see it.”

  “You’re nuts” I glared at her, still smarting from being called “trailer trash”

  “It’s all my fault,” Homer whined. “I should’ve never told you about that pre-nup”

  “Darn right, and you also shouldn’t have told me that you had an appointment right here with Gina early that morningand allowed me to come with you,” she added with a sly smile. “After you left, she and I had a pleasant conversation about Alberto’s patent-and the `mix-up’ all those years ago. She didn’t buy it. So, when she was on her cell phone, I put the pesticide into her syringe. It was surprisingly easy.”

  “Damn you,” Homer said in a weak voice.

  “I think that’s a given,” I muttered, taking a quick inventory for possible weapons. Nothing was within arm’s reach. “WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, TRISH? KILL US BOTH?”

  “Stop shouting, you moron.” She produced a sheet of stationery with Finch & Harris’ letterhead. “What a shame Homer felt so desperate about being discovered as Gina’s killer that he had to shoot you and then himself. Not to worry. He sets it all out in this suicide note.” She waved the paper. “Oh, and I also took the other pre-nup copies out of your files.”

  “You’ll never get away with it,” I said with more bravado than I was feeling.

  “Oh, yes, I will. And it’s your own fault for meddling. I tried to scare you off with the phone calls and the slashed picture, but you wouldn’t back off.”

  “It’s my job. Bernice made me do it.” Okay, that was lame, but I was growing desperate. I inched back from Homer, finding nothing but a crate of very ripe mangos at my fingertips.

  “Too bad” She pointed the gun at Homer. “All right. You first, nitwit.”

  He jumped to his feet. “You think you’re so smart. I already sent a copy of the pre-nup to Brett. He’s probably looking at it right now.”

  “You didn’t!” Her face contorted with rage.

  “Yes, I did!”

  Trish lost it. She lunged at him.

  I instantly sprang into action, grabbing a couple of mangos. I flung them at her, and they splattered all over her white silk pantsuit. She was so startled at the sight of mango goop, she dropped the gun.

  Now it was my turn to lunge. I grasped a few more mangos and smashed them into her chest. She went down, with me on top of her. “HOMER, PICK UP THE GUN!”

  Trish cursed me and ground a stray mango into my face. I sputtered but held my position. Her arms and legs were flailing, and she tried to claw at my face. I spit out the pulp and rammed a big Palmer’s Pride into her eyes.

  She yelped.

  We wrestled around in the mango mush for what seemed an eternity as I kept yelling for Homer’s help.

  Finally, a strong hand pulled me off Trish.

  “You sure took your sweet time, Homer.” I brushed my mango-drenched hair out of my face to behold Nick Billie. “Oh, thank goodness. I guess you heard me on the cell phonepretty smart, huh?”

  “No, you dialed Wanda Sue by mistake. That’s why I wasn’t here sooner-she had to patch the call through to me.” He slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Trish. “It would’ve been nice to give me a heads-up before you swung into action, but I think you’ve been punished enough” He glanced at my disheveled appearance, and amusement mingled with annoyance on his face. “I thought we agreed to use teamwork”

  “You want to work with her?” Trish wiped mango shreds off her jacket. “Trailer-trash girl?”

  “It takes one to know one,” I retorted.

  “That’s enough, Mrs. Palmer,” Nick said in a grim voice. “You’re being arrested on suspicion of murder. I’d be worried about that, if I were you”

  “She did it, all right.” Homer waved the gun at Trish for emphasis.

  We all ducked.

  “Give me that gun,” Nick ordered.

  Homer immediately complied.

  “Mallie, you and Homer follow me to the police station, where I’ll take your statements” He led Trish Palmer to the door.

  “What about Rivas?” I asked.

  “He’s fine. I brought him in because I was getting closer to arresting Trish, and I thought he might go ballistic if he knew that one of the Palmers had killed his sister. She and Homer were my prime suspects, because two migrant workers reported seeing both of them here the morning Gina died. Once I knew a pesticide killed her, I figured one of them did it. I was on my way here to gather evidence when Wanda Sue interrupted me with your call.”

  “So that whole thing about Rivas’ fingerprints was phony?”

  He gave me a sheepish grin.

  “So much for ‘teamwork.’” I placed my hands on my hips. “I guess we’re never going to see eye to eye, are we?”

  “Probably not” He leaned down and planted a brief, searing kiss on my mouth. “Then again, maybe we don’t need to”

  As he ushered Trish Palmer out of the building, I stood still, shocked.

  “Call me if you need a good pre-nup” Homer Finch handed me his card.

  “Shut up” I followed them out, climbed into Rusty, and drove off.

  ould you like a piece of mango, Mallie?” Wanda Sue passed a slice across my picnic table.

  “No, thanks. I don’t think I can look at that particular fruit again for a long time.” It had taken me three washings with Kong’s favorite shampoo to get the last of the slimy mango goop out of my hair.

  As for my skin, the sunburn had finally faded to a soft pink, though I did have a new smattering of freckles across my nose.

  “At least the trees are healthy again,” Aunt Lily pointed out. The three of us looked toward a small private grove behind the RV park. Large mangos hung on every limb, bursting with color and ripeness, luscious and enticing.

  Except to me.

  “Madame Geri says the island’s mango balance has been restored,” Wanda Sue murmured. “Thank the good Lord”

  “And Mallie.” Aunt Lily smiled at me. A shadow of sadness still lingered around her eyes, but now that the truth was out about Alberto’s patent, peace had found its way there too. Her personal history with him remained private.

  “How’s Mama Maria?” I patted her hand.

  “Surviving. That’s about all she’ll be able to do for a while, but that’s something,” Aunt Lily said. “I’ll be there for her every step of the way.”

  We fell silent. It seemed too soon to be lighthearted. Gina still had to be mourned.

  “Hello, ladies,” Cole said as he ducked under my awning. “Are you ready for the Mango Festival?”

  “I plumb forgot that today’s the day,” Wanda Sue declared. “We have to go-for Gina’s sake. You know they decided to keep her as the posthumous queen, and even Brandi was okay with it.”

  “That’s excellent.” Cole stood behind me and brushed a light kiss on my head. It should’ve felt comforting, but, instead, it reminded me of the burning excitement of Nick Billie’s lips. Heat rose up my neck, and I picked up an empty paper plate and briefly fanned myself.

  “Don’t you have to cover the festival for the Observer?” Aunt Lily inquired.

  “I didn’t get the assignment-hah! Apparently, when Bernice was recovering from her second hangover a couple of days ago, she tripped over an empty beer bottle and broke her ankle. Tragic.” I shook my head in mock sorrow. “Anyway, she’ll be out
of commission till Anita gets back, and I’m using the break from both of them as an opportunity to take a little vacation.” I stretched my arms behind my head with a self-satisfied expression.

  “Madame Geri’s curse strikes again,” Aunt Lily sang out.

  Wanda Sue crossed herself.

  Just then, geezer rock burst forth once more from the ramshackle RV next door. “That’s it. I’ve had it.” I walked over and pounded on the siding. “Get out here and show yourselves, you aging hippie jerks!”

  Laughter erupted, and I heard a door open. Two sets of bare feet came around the front of the tenement on wheels.

  “Anita!” I exclaimed as I spied her saddlebag-brown face.

  “Hi, kiddo.” Her arm was linked through Mr. Benton’s. He beamed as if he’d just spent a week with Cameron Diaz. Jeez.

  “You’re the ones who’ve been playing that loud rock day and night?”

  Cole placed a hand on my shoulder.

  She cackled. “Guilty as charged”

  “Do you know what’s been going on this last week? Murder and mayhem! And I couldn’t even get any rest at night,” I ranted. “What with Gina’s death, Butthead Bernice in charge, Trish Palmer’s arrest-“

  “Aw, muzzle it,” Anita cut me off. “I heard that Madame Geri put a curse on my sister, and now she’s laid up. That’s a shame. And it means I have to take charge again. Vacation is over, kiddo. You need to get your butt in gear and cover the Mango Festival today. I want full coverage-photos, interviews, you name it. Let’s get cracking.” She snapped her fingers. “I’m baacccccck”

  Oh, boy.