by Matt Day
“You immigrated here after your husband was killed?”
“Yes. My parents were already deceased, as were Estefan’s. The political tensions were running so high, and everything was unpredictable. I was afraid they would come after the children and me next.
“The day after the funeral, I packed a suitcase for each of us, headed to the airport, and we took the first flight available out of the country. My friend sent some of our belongings along after we were settled, but everything else was just abandoned there. We had to start completely over.”
Charlie listened as she recounted her first few weeks in the U.S., impressed at the strength and determination it must have taken to do what she had done. Reaching across, he gently laid a hand on her arm, “I’m very impressed with what you’ve accomplished here.”
Carmelita looked at his hand, lying against her arm; a shiver running through her body, reminding her of the way her husband had once made her feel. She had not dated since her husband’s murder, her every waking moment dedicated to providing for her children and their future.
Now that her children were growing up, her co-workers had been encouraging her to start dating again. Carmelita had adamantly refused to let them set her up with men of their acquaintance, knowing that she would only feel nervous and shy to spend time with a strange man.
She had been raised in a very conservative, Catholic household, where men and women didn’t have sexual relations until they were married, where marriages were still arranged, and dating was almost unheard of.
Here in the U.S., things were vastly different, and she had tried, for the sake of her children, to adjust her way of thinking, but some things were just beyond her. Like the concept of her actually dating!
Charlie watched a host of emotions move across Carmelita’s face, her expressive eyes giving him a glimpse at the feelings his touch was creating. Confusion. Fear. Curiosity. He realized that this was the type of emotion he could deal with.
Not wanting to push the emotion of fear back into her eyes, he removed his hand, after giving her arm a gentle squeeze and seeing her eyes widen, “I should probably think about heading home.”
Looking at his watch, he realized that not only did he need to return home and check his urine, but he should really return to the beach and see if young Jimmy could be found.
The crowds should have thinned out by now, and the cars dispersed in preparation for the tide that would be rolling in over the next few hours. He’d give Wally a call to see if he wanted to join him for a little dusk searching. If not, he’d do it by himself.
“Carmelita, thank you so much for a lovely lunch and also very enjoyable conversation. I have a few things I still need to do today, so I’ll just let myself out the front door.”
“Thank you for helping with Mateo,” she said softly, “Sometimes I just don’t know what to say to him that won’t make matters worse.”
“He’s a young man with a temper. He’ll learn, just be patient with him.”
“I will. Though I fear for him at times. He’s been talking about getting a job to work after school, but I’m afraid he’ll get mixed up with men like the ones from the beach.”
Charlie nodded his head, remembering a conversation he’d just had with his brother and the need for some part time help in the afternoons over at the service station. “I think I might be able to help out there. My dad owned the service station near the Halifax Marina. My brother runs things now, and he was just telling me he could really use some help in the afternoons. I’d be happy to talk to him about it, if you think it’s something Mateo might be interested in.”
Carmelita nodded her head, “Thank you. I’m sure he’d appreciate any help you could give him.”
“Good.” Charlie reached over and touched the back of her hand where it lay on the arm of the chair, “I'll talk to him, and if things look like they might work out, then I’ll find you after service on Sunday and introduce the two of them.” He let his hand lift, touching the side of her face, before withdrawing it completely.
“Thank you.” Carmelita heard the slightly breathless sound of her voice, still feeling where Charlie’s hand had touched her.
“No problem. See you Sunday, unless you’re planning on attending Pat Maclean’s funeral Mass tomorrow?”
“No, unfortunately, I’m scheduled to work. With all of the tourists in town, we’re expecting a rather busy day filled with too much sun, too much alcohol, and too much time in the ocean. It should be the highlight of my week.” Carmelita made a face and Charlie laughed.
“Don’t have too much fun now. See you on Sunday.”
Carmelita watched him leave, lifting her hand to cover the spot where his hand had briefly touched her face. Maybe she was ready to give dating a try. With someone she already knew a little bit. Maybe someone like Charlie?
Chapter 19
Saturday, August 30, 1955, St. Peter’s Catholic Church…
Saturday morning the sky was overcast, the clouds were building off the shoreline, and in general, the weather seemed ideally suited for a funeral. A light drizzle had begun just as Charlie walked into the church, and he was glad there was no graveside service planned at this time. That would be nothing short of miserable.
He had arrived at the cathedral a few minutes before the ceremony was to begin, taking a seat next to his brother. After saying his “Hellos” to the rest of his family, Charlie settled back and started to look around.
He saw many familiar faces in attendance, many of them friends of the deceased, others longtime business associates.
He was positioned on the end of a pew, somewhere around the middle of the sanctuary space. When the priests began their processional, escorting the casket, which held Pat Maclean’s body, down the aisle, he got his first glimpse of the attendees seated behind him.
He again saw many faces that he knew from past church functions. He also saw Bob Barnes, the man who had helped him through his early years as a recovering alcoholic. Bob was seated next to a man that was very upset, growing more so as the casket came into view.
Puzzled at the dramatic reaction, he made a note to himself to ask Bob who the man was, and what his relationship to the deceased might be. A long lost brother, perhaps? A close relation? If so, why wasn’t he sitting with Carol and the other family members?
Turning his attention to the other attendees, he did a double take when he spotted not one, but all four of the men from the café sitting quietly on the very last pew. All of the men wore dark suits with white button down shirts, ties, and in deference to being in a House of God, had removed their hats.
They had not however removed the negative impact their presence was having on those around them. They did not appear to be grieving, but merely observing. The question now was - what?
The casket made its way to the front of the cathedral and Charlie found it difficult to observe those behind him without bringing attention to himself. Turning his direction towards the front of the sanctuary, he listened as the priest and then several family friends took the podium to speak about the deceased.
A number of scriptures were recited, and a lady from the church sang the “Ave Maria” before Father Michael said a few final words. The priest did a wonderful job of celebrating the life Pat Maclean had lived; Charlie was truly moved by the service.
Once the Mass was finished, he found himself swept away with his other siblings to pay his respects to Carol Maclean. Charlie held back as they approached the place where she stood, not wanting to make the day any worse by forcibly reminding her how Pat had died. He wasn’t sure if the police had told her the name of the person responsible for finding her husband.
He should have known that in this town, keeping anything a secret wasn’t going to happen. As his mother hugged the woman, Carol opened her eyes, pinning Charlie with her sincere look of – gratitude?
After his mother finished hugging on Carol, Carol pointed at Charlie, saying, “You’re the man who found my Pat’s boa
t. Thank you for bringing him home to me.”
Carol wrapped her arms around Charlie and he tentatively hugged her back, “You’re welcome Carol.”
Carol was crying softly, so he did what any other man would do – he wrapped his arms around her and murmured words he thought she might want to hear. Finally, her crying subsided and she disengaged herself from his arms. “I’m sorry about that. But, just thinking about what might have happened to Pat’s body if you hadn’t come along makes me start crying all over again.”
“I wish I could have found him sooner.”
“Nevertheless, I am grateful and wanted to let you know that.”
Charlie’s sisters and brother chose that moment to steal him away, outside to where a small group of people were gathered. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing much. Mom thought you might want to join us for dinner this evening,” replied his eldest sister, Margaret.
“Sure, as long as I don’t have to cook, it’s fine with me.”
Turning, he scanned the departing crowd for Bob and the man who’d been with him during the funeral. Seeing them disappear around the corner, he called to his sisters that he’d be right back. He rushed around the corner of the church, seeing the two men start to slip outside the back door.
“Hey, wait up a minute!” he hollered. Both men turned and watched him as he rapidly approached them. “Sorry, I‘m a little out of breath”
“Did you need something?” Bob squinted into the sunlight, “Charlie, is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me, myself, and I.” Charlie had often joked with Bob during his early years of recovery that he felt like three different people, trapped in the same body. The person who never longed for alcohol; the person who craved it like water; and the person who continued to justify the other two’s actions. In other words, a human mess!
Bob didn’t laugh at the jest today, and Charlie immediately sobered and replied sedately, “Sorry. Yeah, it’s me.”
“How you holding up?” Bob asked, obvious concern evident in his voice, ignoring Charlie’s attempt to lighten the mood.
“I’m doing just fine, Bob. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?” Charlie asked, eyeing the man next to him with interest.
“Sure. Tommy, give me a minute, okay?” When the other man nodded, Bob walked a ways off with Charlie in tow. “You look like you have something important on your mind. What’s up?”
“Who is that man?”
Bob looked over Charlie’s head before answering, “Tommy Collins. Why?”
“He seems awfully upset over Captain Maclean’s death, that’s why.”
“With good reason. He’s carrying a load of guilt for not being on the boat that day. He’d been working Pat’s boat this entire season, but the night before, he got caught up in a bar fight and arrested.”
Charlie nodded, “So he was in jail at the time of the murders?”
Chapter 20
Bob shook his head, “No. Joseph Parker bailed him out in the wee hours of the morning, dropping him off at the bar to get his car. He got home around 4:00 a.m. and said Joseph was going to do the same. Tommy didn’t go out on Tuesday morning, taking the day off to try and get his act together.”
“Do you think he’d talk to me?” Charlie asked, turning to watch the other man, who was now just as interested in him.
“Probably. Tommy’s been through a lot, and seems to think that if he’d been there things might have gone down differently.”
“How so?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Charlie nodded, “I just might do that.” Charlie watched the other man for a few minutes before turning to Bob and asking, “You sponsoring him?”
“Not officially. I’m just filling in for Ed White. He’s been sponsoring Joseph Parker since he arrived in town.”
“The same Joseph Parker that was just killed?”
“Yeah, Ed’s taking his death pretty hard. The funeral is later this afternoon for both boys and Ed felt like he needed to be there for the family, that’s why he’s not here right now.”
“So who’s sponsoring Tommy?”
Bob sighed, “Well, I guess I am, in a way. Ed’s been talking to him, but he doesn’t feel comfortable coming to the meetings yet. He’s had issues with the other three people we’ve paired him with; but with me, he seems to be okay. Anyway, he’s doing real good. Talk to him. He just might open up to you.”
They rejoined Tommy, and Bob introduced the two men to each other. “Tommy, Charlie was the man who discovered the boat. He’s also our resident sleuth and was wondering if you could answer a few questions for him.”
Tommy eyed the man, guessing him to be in his mid to late thirties, almost a decade younger than his forty-five years. His garish Hawaiian shirt, even in neutral tones of yellows, browns, and tans, was still an eyesore; someone should really help the man choose better.
“Would that be okay with you?”
Tommy pulled himself back to the present, “I’m sorry. What?”
“I was wondering if we could get together later this afternoon and chat for a bit. I considered Pat Maclean a friend and would like to help solve his murder if I could.”
Tommy swallowed, not really wanting to spend time rehashing things with a perfect stranger, but maybe if he talked to Charlie, he wouldn’t have to talk to the police. No one had placed him as a member of the crew yet, and he was dreading the moment when they did. With his record, people tended to jump to conclusions and that was the last thing he needed to deal with.
“Fine. Where and when?” Tommy wasn’t one to mince words, and was making sure Charlie knew that up front.
“How about the Seabreeze café over on A1A? Four o’clock?”
“Sure. I know the place. I’ll be there.” Tommy turned to Bob, “Thanks man.”
“You’ll call me if you need to.” It wasn’t a question, but a demand. Bob was a mentor in the AA program, and while Tommy’s problem hadn’t necessarily been straight alcohol, the program still had worked for him. Tommy had become hooked on marijuana, and then harder drugs.
Those had led him down into a pit of crime and destruction that he was only just beginning to climb out of. He had lost his family, his friends, his career, and his aspirations, along with his freedom.
Tommy had been caught helping a friend of his move some drugs in exchange for his own personal supply. The friend had disappeared once the police showed up, and Tommy had taken the fall, spending twelve years in the state pen. When he’d gotten out, no one had been left to help him out. He’d taken the $129 dollars the prison system said he’d earned while incarcerated, hitched a ride to the local bus stop, and purchased a one-way ticket to some place warm.
That some place had landed him in Daytona Beach. That was six years ago, and he was proud of the life he had carved out for himself here. Now, it was all being threatened, and he didn’t know by whom.
He’d seen the Batistos from the bar sitting in the back of the funeral today, but hadn’t known why they were there. To his knowledge, Pat Maclean didn’t have any business transactions with the likes of them, but then again, how well did one actually know someone they only worked for and didn’t see outside of that context. Had Pat gotten mixed up in something that got him killed?
“Tommy? You okay, there?” Bob asked, pulling him back to the present.
“Yeah, just tired. I’m heading home. Charlie, it was nice to meet you. See ya at 4.” Tommy took his leave, heading for the motorbike parked at the end of the street.
Charlie and Bob both watched him for a few moments before Charlie spoke, “He seems nervous. You think he had anything to do with Pat’s death?”
“I don’t know. And before you ask, you already know I can’t, and won’t, divulge anything personal about him. Talk to him. He’s had a hard life, but deep down he’s a good man.”
Charlie was waiting to develop his own opinions. Bob might think Tommy was a good man, but something in his eyes
worried him. Either Tommy was deliberately hiding something of importance, or he knew something about what had gone down on the “Big Mama” earlier in the week.
Chapter 21
Charlie aimed to find out. Shaking hands with Bob, he rejoined his family, passing on dinner later that evening, but promising he’d make it sometime soon. Pulling his brother aside, he didn’t forget his promise to Carmelita, “Hey Stephen, you still looking for someone to help you out in the afternoons around the station?’
“Boy am I ever. Since Taylor left for college, I can’t seem to get any time off.” Taylor was Stephen’s oldest son and had just begun his first year of college at Florida State University, up north in Tallahassee.
“Why, you interested?” Stephen asked, knowing that working at the service station didn’t interest Charlie at all.
“No, but a friend of mine has a kid, he’s almost seventeen, and she said he was thinking of getting a job to work after school.”
“He staying out of trouble?” Stephen asked, not wanting to bring any unwanted problems around.
“As much as you and I did,” Charlie answered cryptically.
“Well, he’s probably headed for prison then,” Stephen joked. “No, seriously, if you think this kid might be a good fit, send him over Monday after school. I’ll talk to him, and if everything works out, he can start right away.”
“Good. I’ll let his mother know.” Charlie looked around at the people still milling outside the cathedral in small groups, “You seen Wally around?” Charlie had attempted to reach him the night before, before he’d gone back down to the beach to find everyone already gone. Wally hadn’t answered and he figured he was still out with his buddies.
“Nah, he left right after the service was over. Something about finishing an install down at the police station.”
Charlie grinned; so Morgan had convinced someone to spend the money. Good for him! Now maybe the man wouldn’t always look like he’d just taken a shower with his clothes on!