Corner Office (From the Tales of Dan Coast Book 12)

by Rodney Riesel

  “It's not my ankle,” Bev replied. “It's my foot.” She continued across the yard and handed Dan his drink.

  Dan quickly downed the drink he already had, sat the glass down, and then took the drink Bev had made him. He continued to awkwardly turn the meat with the spatula in his left hand. “What's the matter with your foot?” he asked.

  “I was doing yoga on my deck Monday morning and got a damn splinter in my foot. I think it's getting infected now.”

  Maxine sat up straight in her chair. “Let me take a look at it,” she said.

  Bev turned, walked to the other Adirondack chair, and sat down.

  “Take off your flip-flop,” said Maxine.

  Bev kicked it off and held up he foot. “How's it look to you?”

  Maxine reached out and took hold of Bev's foot. On her sole, just behind her big toe, was an inflamed area with a pustule in the center. “Oh, that's infected alright,” she said. “You did it Monday, you say?”

  “Yes.”

  Maxine pressed near the affected area with her index finger. Bev winced. “Looks like the splinter is still in there.”

  “I thought I got it out.”

  “Ya want me to grab the ax out of the shed?” Dan asked. “We can take that foot off right at the ankle.”

  “Shut up, smart-ass,” Bev said.

  “Yeah,” Maxine agreed, “keep it down over there.”

  Dan shrugged. “Just tryin' to help.” He finished his drink and sat it down. Then he grabbed a serving plate off the opposite side shelf and loaded it with the hot dogs and brats.

  “Make sure you shut off those burners,” said Maxine. She continued to inspect the bottom of Bev's foot. She could see the splinter just below the surface of the skin.

  “Duh,” Dan replied. “Ya think I don't know that?”

  “Can you remove the splinter?” Bev asked.

  “I'd rather not,” said Maxine.

  “She don't want you to sue her when you lose that leg,” said Dan.

  “I'd rather you went over to urgent care,” Maxine advised.

  “Tomorrow morning?” Bev asked.

  “After we eat,” said Maxine. “That looks pretty bad. You shouldn't have let it go this long.”

  “Ugh,” said Bev. “I hate going to the doctor.”

  “I'll give you a ride over and go in with you,” said Maxine.

  “Yeah,” said Dan. “And if you need me for anything, I'll be over at Red's gettin' shit- faced.”

  “Seriously?” Maxine said.

  “You two can stop over after they cut off Bev's leg.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” asked Bev.

  “Evidently that's the mind of a genius,” said Maxine.

  Chapter Thirty

  It was almost eight o'clock when Bev and Maxine arrived at Red's Bar and Grill. Dan was sitting right where they figured he'd be, on his favorite orange barstool. Every stool at the bar was taken.

  Red glanced over Dan's shoulder when he saw the door open. “Maxine just walked through the door,” he said quietly.

  “Good thing you warned me,” Dan dead panned, “I was just about to hit on that college girl at the end of the bar.”

  Red chuckled. “Those days are far behind ya, pal.”

  “What's far behind you?” Maxine asked. She put her hand on Dan's shoulder.

  “Hittin' on college girls,” Dan responded.

  Maxine guffawed. “Yeah,” she said, “really far behind you.”

  “Ouch.”

  Maxine looked down the bar at the stunning blonde coed. “You gotta admit, she's way out of your league.”

  “Hey,” Dan protested, “I got you, and you're way out of my league.”

  “You got lucky with that one,” said Red.

  “Yeah,” Bev agreed, “really lucky.”

  Dan looked down at Bev's foot. “I see they let you keep the foot.”

  “It was touch and go,” Bev joked.

  “What'd they say?”

  “The doctor gave me a prescription for an antibiotic ointment and foot soak.”

  “They also gave her a tetanus shot,” Maxine added.

  “And told me to wear shoes on my deck,” said Bev. “I don't like wearing shoes—”

  Bev continued to speak, but Dan zoned out. Something Lola had said to him about Lyndon came to mind: “He never wears shoes. When we were married I would always have to tell him to put on his shoes.” He never wears shoes, Dan thought.

  “You think you could do that for me, Dan?” Bev asked. “Dan?”

  Dan snapped out of it. “What was that?” he asked.

  “Do you think you could do that for me?” Bev repeated.

  “Do what?”

  “Put down some of that green indoor/outdoor carpet on my deck. I could still do my yoga shoeless on the carpet and wouldn't have to worry about getting another splinter.”

  “Yeah,” Dan said, as he reached for his cell phone. “I can do that for you.” He tapped his screen a couple times and put the cell to his ear.

  “I gotta sit down,” said Bev. “This foot is throbbing.” She turned and headed for one of the four-tops near the jukebox.”I'll come with you,” said Maxine. She held onto Bev as she hobbled to the table.

  “Hello?” said Lola Paragould.

  “Lola? It's Dan Coast.”

  “Yes, Mr. Coast. What can I do for you? Did you hear something about Branson?”

  “I just have a few more questions.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I would rather ask you in person.”

  “That's fine. Can you come over tomorrow morning?”

  “I also need to speak with Shelby and Lyndon,” Dan explained. “Do you think it would be possible for you to meet me at Lyndon's place in Marathon?”

  There were a few seconds of silence. “I guess I could do that.”

  “How does ten tomorrow morning sound?”

  “Sounds good. I'll see you there.”

  Dan hung up and turned to Red.

  “What was that all about?” Red asked.

  “I'm not sure,” Dan replied. “Something Bev just said got me thinking. I don't know, maybe it's nothing.” He tapped his cell screen again.

  “Hello?” said Marilyn Valdosta.

  “Marilyn, this is Dan Coast.”

  “Oh, Mr. Coast! Did you find Branson? It's bad news, isn't it? Oh my God, I—”

  “Calm down, Marilyn. I just need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “I was wondering if you could meet me in Marathon tomorrow morning at ten?”

  “Marathon? I guess I can. Where exactly would you like to meet?”

  “1002 81st Street.”

  “Will Branson be there?”

  “He might be,” Dan said. “I'll see you in the morning.” He hung up.

  “You're bringing them all together?” Red asked. “You think that's a good idea?”

  “Probably not.” Dan got up from his barstool and picked up his drink. He looked over toward Bev and Maxine. “Did they order anything?”

  “No,” Red replied.

  “Two glasses of white wine,” said Dan, and headed for the table.

  “Comin' right up.”

  Dan sat his drink on the table and pulled out a chair. “I ordered you each a glass of white wine,” he said.

  “Thank you,” said Bev.

  “Thanks, babe,” said Maxine.

  So, you're drinking booze tonight, Dan thought. What the Christ is going on?

  “What are you staring at?” Maxine asked.

  “Nothing,” Dan replied. “Actually … ”

  Bev's eyes widened.

  “Actually, what?” Maxine asked.

  Red showed up with the glasses of wine, and placed a drink in front of each woman.

  Thank you, Red,” said Bev.

  “Actually what?” Maxine asked again.

  “What's going on?” Red asked.

  Bev scooted out her chair. “I thin
k these two want to talk, Red,” she said.

  “No,” Dan said. “Both of you stay right here.”

  “I think we should give you a minute,” said Bev.

  “What's the matter?” Maxine asked.

  Dan sighed heavily and said, “I found the empty pregnancy test box in the waste basket.”

  “Oh,” said Maxine.

  Bev reached out and put her hand on Maxine's shoulder.

  Dan saw what Bev had done, so he reached out and put his hand on Maxine's other shoulder. Red rested his hand on top of Bev's hand. He winked at her; she glared back.

  “Jeez, you guys,” said Maxine, “I know you mean well, but I feel like you're trying to exorcise my demons or something.” The hands instantly came off.

  “Do you want to talk in private?” Bev asked.

  “No,” said Maxine, “it's fine.” She stared into Dan's eyes.

  “So, what's the verdict?” Dan asked.

  “I'm not pregnant.” said Maxine. Her eyes teared up, but not enough to run. “I thought I was, but I wasn't.”

  “Did you want to be pregnant?” Dan asked.

  “I don't know.”

  “Are you happy you're not?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “You seemed upset ever since you took the tests.”

  “At first I was angry I got pregnant. Then I was happy for a day or so. Then I was sad I wasn't.”

  “Just like Bev said,” Dan commented. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I'll be fine.”

  “We were all a little worried about you,” said Bev.

  “But more worried about Dan becoming a father,” Red admitted. “That makes about as much sense as Don Knotts playing James Bond.”

  Maxine chuckled. “Thanks, Red,” she said. “I needed a good laugh right about now.”

  “Well, I think we can all agree that he wouldn't make the best father,” Red said.

  “I think I would make a great father,” Dan argued. “I've had that damn dog for almost five years, and he's doing just fine.”

  “Dogs are a little different than kids,” said Bev. “You can't just let your kid out the back door so he can lay on my deck all day.”

  “And you can't just let your kid shit in your neighbors yard,” said Red.

  “Why not?” Dan asked. “I got a kid that comes twice a week to clean it up.”

  “Yeah,” said Maxine, “after hearing this discussion, it's probably all for the best that I wasn't pregnant.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dan pulled his Porsche to the curb across the street from Lyndon's place, and shut off the engine.

  “Lyndon's expecting us, I hope,” Red commented.

  “Of course he knows we're coming,” Dan replied. “I called him last night when I got home.”

  “I can't believe you were in any shape to make important phone calls.” Red opened his door and climbed out.

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “You were pretty drunk when you left the bar.”

  “I was not.”

  The two men crossed the street and walked up the stairs. As they reached the deck, they heard a car pull up. It was Marilyn Valdosta. Dan and Red paused at the top of the stairs.

  “I feel a little bad for Marilyn,” said Red.

  “Why's that?”

  “She's about to find out her common-law husband is dead, and that he was living a double life. Everything he told her was a lie.”

  “What about Lola?”

  “I feel bad for her too.”

  Marilyn got out of her car and noticed Dan and Red right away. She gave them a half-wave. They both nodded back.

  When Marilyn reached the bottom of the stairs, another car pulled up; it was Lola Paragould. She parked and got out of her car. She didn't wave. She looked much more concerned than Marilyn.

  “The gang's all here,” Red remarked.

  “Knock on the door,” said Dan.

  Red did as he was asked. The door opened. “How ya doing, Shelby? Is your dad around?”

  Shelby turned. “Dad!” she hollered.

  Lola and Marilyn gave each other a curious glance.

  Marilyn said, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” Lola responded.

  Dan waved his arm toward the picnic table. “Could you all have a seat. Please?” he asked.

  Red leaned in to Dan. “This reminds me of one of those Agatha Christie books,” he whispered. “Where that Hercules Parrot guy gets everyone together at the end and tells who did it.”

  “You've read an Agatha Christie book?” Dan asked.

  “I saw a couple movies.”

  Dan turned to see Lyndon and Shelby walk out the door. “Please,” he said. “Have a seat.”

  “What's going on, Lyndon?” Lola asked.

  “That's what I'd like to know,” said Marilyn. “You all know each other?”

  “He's my ex-husband,” said Lola, pointing at Lyndon. “And Shelby is our daughter.”

  “Well, I don't know any of you,” said Marilyn.

  “Why are you here?” asked Lola.

  “I hired Mr. Coast to find my husband.”

  “So did I.”

  “Ladies,” said Dan, “if I could have your attention, please.”

  Everyone quieted down and focused on Dan.

  “The reason I called you all here today … ” said Dan. He looked at Red and winked. Red grinned big. The only thing missing was the butler. “ … is because a crime has taken place.”

  “What are ya talkin' about, Coast?” Lyndon asked.

  Dan ignored him. “On the day that Marilyn Valdosta came to me seeking help, a second woman—Lola Paragould—also came to me. They both came to me for the same reason: they wanted me to find their husband. The first thing I discov—”

  “We,” Red interrupted.

  “What?” Dan asked.

  “We discovered.”

  Dan rolled his eyes. “The first thing we discovered was that—and I'm sorry I have to tell you ladies this—your husbands were the same person.”

  “What!” Marilyn exclaimed.

  “That's ridiculous, Mr. Coast,” said Lola.

  “I'm sorry, but it's true.” Dan reached into his side pocket and pulled out both photographs of Branson. He handed them both to Marilyn. “You each brought me a picture of the same man. Marilyn, Branson goes by the name Pudgewheat when he's with you, and Breckenridge when he's with you, Lola.”

  Marilyn stared at the photographs. “I can't believe this.” She leaned over and handed both photos to Lola. Lola had the same shocked expression as Marilyn.

  “Branson is your husband?” Lola asked. A single tear ran down her face as she stared at the photographs.

  Marilyn nodded her head slowly. “Yes,” she said quietly. “He's my husband.” She turned to Dan and asked, “How can this be? We arrived together on the same plane.”

  “Yes, he arrived with you on the same plane,” said Dan. “Then, after spending some time with you, he went to see Lola. He told her he had just come from a mission, and had to meet her here on the island.”

  “Your Branson is a spy?” Marilyn asked.

  “Yes,” said Lola.

  “Branson isn't a spy,” said Red. “He's a con artist.”

  “Red's right,” Dan said. “Branson just uses the spy thing as a cover. It allows him to pretty much come and go at a moment's notice. If either of you ask too many questions, he just says it's top-secret.”

  “That son of a bitch,” said Marilyn. “I'm going to kill him!”

  “That won't be necessary,” said Dan.

  “What do you mean?” Lola asked.

  “Branson is already dead.”

  “Oh my God,” said both women in unison.

  “What are you talking about, Coast?” Lyndon asked. “He probably just knew what was good for him, and took off.”

  “Knew what's good for him?” Lola asked tearfully.

  “Lyndon knew about Marilyn,” s
aid Dan.

  Lola turned to her ex-husband. “Is this true, Lyndon?”

  Lyndon nodded his head shamefully.

  “Reatha Davis came to your house Wednesday evening,” Dan explained. “She heard Lyndon and Branson arguing. Lyndon had found out about Marilyn, and had come to tell Branson that he knew, and to get out of town.”

  “How did he die?” Marilyn asked.

  “I think he came here to confront Lyndon and Shelby the following day.”

  “Why Shelby?” asked Lola.

  “I believe Shelby was upstairs during the earlier confrontation, and heard everything.”

  “Is this true, Shelby?” asked Lola.

  “I don't know what he's talking about,” Shelby replied.

  “I think you do, Shelby,” Dan responded. “I think Branson came here to confront the two of you. I think he brought his weapon to threaten you both.”

  A vehicle pulled up and the engine shut off. Everyone's head turned toward the street. Dan walked to the edge of the deck and looked over the railing. It was Chief Rick Carver's Bronco. Carver's door swung open and he hoisted his fat self out from behind the steering wheel. He reached back and slammed his door, pushed his aviators up his sweaty nose with his index finger, and adjusted his gun belt.

  “Hey, Rick,” Dan hollered. “Thanks for coming.”

  Everyone waited as Rick waddled across the street and lugged himself up the stairs to the deck.

  “You're just in time,” said Dan.

  “Just in time for what, Coast?” Rick's eyes went from person to person, and then back to Dan. He rubbed the sweat from his brow with his palm and wiped it on his pants. “What am I doin' here?”

  “He's just about to reveal the murderer,” Red said proudly. “Just like Hercules Parrot.”

  Rick frowned. “Hercules Parrot?”

  “He means Hercule Poirot,” said Dan.

  “Friggin' idiot,” Rick grumbled.

  “Where was I?” Dan asked.

  “Branson came here with his weapon to threaten Shelby and Lyndon,” Red offered.

  “Oh yeah,” Dan said. “Branson warned Shelby and Lyndon that they better keep their mouths shut, or he would kill them.”

  “He's probably killed before,” Red put in. “We think his money actually comes from other women he's scammed, and then possibly killed.”

  “Do you have any proof of this?” Rick asked. “Because if not—”