Fortune Furlough

by Jana DeLeon

“No kids,” I said.

  “Doesn’t your husband want any?” Thick Glasses asked, shifting his chair for a better angle.

  His fishing was so apparent that I had to work hard not to roll my eyes but at least he was verifying before moving forward. Most didn’t bother. Or didn’t care. I was guessing more the latter.

  “No husband either,” I said and smiled. “I’m not really looking for anything permanent at the moment.”

  “You’ve got plenty of time for all that,” Bald Man said. “Best not to rush into such important things.”

  “So are you all vacationing as well?” I asked.

  Bald Man nodded. “I come every year around this time. Usually for a couple weeks, maybe more if the weather stays good.”

  The other two shook their heads.

  “I live across the bridge,” Pink Tie said. “There’s only a couple bars over there though, and at one of them you’re more likely to get shot than served a drink.”

  Thick Glasses nodded. “I have a condo on the island but the bar there is tiny and they water down the drinks.”

  “I thought all resorts watered down the drinks,” I said.

  “They do,” Thick Glasses said, “but this place is better than most. And they don’t play the music so loud you can’t hear yourself think.”

  Pink Tie nodded. “I hate that. Who wants to listen to that rap music when you can have an intelligent conversation with a beautiful woman?”

  The other two held up their glasses as if toasting his comment. I looked up at the ceiling. Gertie, you owe me big time.

  “This seems like a really nice place,” I said. “Except…well, that whole thing with the man being murdered.”

  I gave them what I hoped was a worried look and picked at my napkin. “I was thinking I might leave early. Maybe check out tomorrow. I mean, I just got here, but I don’t want to stay somewhere that isn’t safe.”

  The two locals frowned and glanced at each other, and I was certain they knew exactly who Otis was. And it didn’t look like they were fans.

  “That was all the talk over lunch today,” Bald Man said. “I don’t recall meeting the guy but I think I might know who he was based on a description I got from my waiter. Did the cops say it was murder? I figured it was a heart attack or something, but you know these resorts. They run from a potential lawsuit like a greyhound chasing a rabbit. I figured they called the cops in to cover their butts.”

  Pink Tie shook his head. “My sister is friends with the dispatcher down at the sheriff’s department. She said he was poisoned. Didn’t know what with. I think they try to keep things from the dispatcher. She loves to gossip, but she’s never been wrong about police stuff and she says they’re investigating.”

  I tried to control my excitement. We had a cause of death! Or at least a start on it. Poison was broad, but if the dispatcher had gotten that much, then there was a good chance she might get more.

  “Gonna have to cast a wide net when it comes to suspects,” Thick Glasses said. “I know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but Otis Baker was an…uh, creep.”

  I was certain he was about to say something much more colorful. It was cute how he had altered his thought to account for not cursing in front of a lady. Of course, that lady was me so that also made it hilarious.

  I frowned. “What kind of creep? I mean, there’s all sorts.”

  “A womanizer for one,” Pink Tie said. “He ran through the local widows across the bridge pretty fast. Finally, enough of them started talking among themselves and they got his number. Then he moved his show over here.”

  “Did he attack them?” I asked. “I mean, surely the police would arrest him for that.”

  “Nothing like that,” Thick Glasses said. “If I had to guess, he hit them up for money. I heard some whispering among the womenfolk, but they don’t like to admit to being taken by a smooth-talking stranger.”

  Pink Tie nodded. “I heard the same grumblings, but when women close ranks, it’s hard to find out much. I saw Otis at dinner a couple times with different women and he never reached for his wallet. I figure if he’s got a woman paying for dinner, he wouldn’t hesitate to ask her for some money for whatever made-up excuse he has. Probably some sob story about a sick grandchild or a screwup in his retirement payout. This isn’t the first time a guy like Otis landed here.”

  “It’s an unfortunate part of living in an area with so many widows and retirees,” Thick Glasses said. “It cuts both ways, of course, but usually it’s more of a woman’s game than a man’s. Still, we get a new Otis every year or two. They make the rounds, collect what’s there for the taking, then head out before the resorts blacklist them or the local cops get tired of the complaints and come knocking.”

  “I’m surprised they get away with it,” I said.

  Bald Man shrugged. “Happened to my sister back in Idaho. They don’t want to report it. Feel stupid and all and don’t want people to know. Heck, I didn’t find out until after she passed.”

  Thick Glasses nodded. “And that goes double for men. No man worth his salt is going to run to the cops and admit to being taken by a pretty face.”

  “I guess I can understand that,” I said. “But by not reporting it, the scammers get to keep working their scam.”

  “That’s unfortunately true,” Pink Tie said.

  “So do you think this Otis was killed by one of the women he scammed money off of? It would make me feel a lot better about staying if I knew it was something personal like that. But with me thinking it’s random, I’m still planning on checking out tomorrow. A woman can’t be too careful these days.”

  “No!” They all protested at once.

  “I’m sure it was personal,” Pink Tie said. “I overheard some talk in the diner over where I live. Apparently, he scammed one of the local widows out of a good bit of money, and word was her son was looking to get his hands on Otis. Can’t say that I blame him. If it had been my mother, I’d have been out for blood as well.”

  “And you think this woman’s son might have done it?” I said. “I mean, plenty of people say they would but when it comes down to the actual act…”

  “Of course, of course,” Pink Tie agreed. “There’s a big difference in words said in anger and actually following through with such a thing, but the guys talking made it sound like the son was capable. He sounded like a rough sort, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do,” I said. “And I guess it’s possible he was the one, but I’m still not sure.”

  I wondered if he was referring to Dave, who I absolutely thought was capable. But when I pictured Dave killing Otis, I saw him strangling the life out of the scammer. I just didn’t make him for a poison kind of guy.

  “There’s been whispering around the resort,” Bald Man said. “I overheard the maids a couple days ago, talking about one of the staff falling for a scammer and giving him money. They said she was too embarrassed to tell the cops. One of them suggested putting hair remover in his shampoo bottle. They never said a name, but it sounds like they could have been talking about this Otis character.”

  “Hair remover in his shampoo wouldn’t have done much damage,” Pink Tie said. “Otis wasn’t exactly sporting a full head of hair, but I suppose they felt they needed to do something for their friend.”

  “Did they say who the coworker was?” I asked.

  Bald Man shook his head. “And I’m afraid I don’t know the staff well enough to speculate.”

  “There’s a few that might fit the bill,” Thick Glasses said. “There’s a recently widowed woman in the front office. Probably in her sixties.”

  Pink Tie let out a guffaw. “Her husband probably died just to get away from her. Have you spent five minutes talking to the woman? She’s a royal pain in the butt. Besides, she’s notoriously cheap. All the servers here complain about her. I can’t imagine her giving someone like Otis money.”

  “She isn’t the most pleasant of people,” Thick Glasses agreed, “but the on
es who never get any attention from men are usually the best ones for scammers like Otis to target.”

  “I suppose so,” Pink Tie admitted. “Still, the woman running housekeeping is probably a better pick. I bet she was a looker in her day and seems nice enough.”

  “Never been married though,” Thick Glasses said. “A woman her age who’s never been married is always suspect.”

  I held in a smile. Ida Belle and Gertie were definitely suspect.

  “Probably one of those feminists,” Bald Man said. “My cousin took up that nonsense. Burned all her bras on the front lawn and shaved her head. Her husband went fishing. Been on that fishing trip going on twenty-two years now.”

  “Wise man,” Thick Glasses said.

  “I don’t suppose the housekeeping supervisor has an angry son to follow up for her though,” I said.

  “I know a lady like you would have some trouble believing it,” Pink Tie said, “but it’s possible a woman could have done it.”

  The smile I’d been holding in finally broke loose and I scrambled to explain myself to the three men who were staring at me with varying degrees of uncertainly.

  “How very progressive of you,” I said brightly. “I don’t run into that manner of thinking very often.”

  Pink Tie blushed but was obviously pleased with the compliment. If he knew I could kill him with the umbrella in his fruity drink, he would be turning white instead of red.

  “He’s absolutely right,” Bald Man jumped in, trying to get on the progressive bandwagon. “It’s not like Otis was strangled, so strength wouldn’t have been a factor.”

  “Well, I suppose you gentlemen are right,” I said. “It does sound like this Otis was a bad sort. If it was personal and not some sort of robbing-the-tourist thing then I guess I’m safe.”

  “Definitely safe,” Thick Glasses said. “Don’t even worry about it a second more. Just enjoy your vacation. The cops will sort it out.”

  “Ha!” Pink Tie said. “If you think Deputy Dawg is going to sort anything out, you haven’t lived here long enough or needed the cops. The guy makes idiots look like Einstein and has completely rebranded lazy. Yet somehow, he thinks he’s going to get elected sheriff when the current one retires.”

  Thick Glasses frowned. “Benton is in charge of the investigation?”

  Pink Tie nodded.

  Thick Glasses sighed. “That man couldn’t catch a criminal even if he witnessed the crime himself. Well, I guess whoever did the deed lucked out.”

  “That’s the thing,” Pink Tie said. “The mayor won’t stand for no arrest at all. He wants to be reelected, and guests being murdered at resorts doesn’t look so good when it happens on his watch. So he’ll be pressuring Benton. And there’s rumblings that the sheriff is going to retire, and you know Benton has been angling for that job since the cradle. Someone will get arrested. It’s just the likelihood of it being the right person is low.”

  “What a mess,” Thick Glasses said. “Glad I never had any interaction with Otis. But if Benton’s looking for a scapegoat, I don’t suppose he has any shortage of angry women, assuming he works hard enough to find them.”

  “Okay, guys,” the server stepped up to the table, carrying my tray of food. “Give the lady some room so she can have her dinner.”

  All of them looked disappointed but were raised in an era when it was bad manners to stare at someone while they ate—particularly bad manners if you weren’t actually their date. So they shuffled their chairs back into position and I dived into the burger like I hadn’t eaten in a year. For bar food, it was pretty good. At least the meat was real, thick, and not overcooked.

  As I ate, I thought about everything I’d learned. It was pretty much exactly what we’d figured, but I did glean a couple of potential suspects from the conversation as well as a cause of death. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the poison used, which could help narrow things down even more, but I figured that information would eventually surface.

  I polished off the burger and fries in record time. I’d barely washed down the last bite when I saw the men fidgeting, clearly trying to gauge how soon they could launch back at me. But I was done with all that riveting fun. I’d gotten everything I could from them and had no intention of sitting there and being bored by whatever conversation was next. Likely fishing prospects, the weather, and someone’s bad back or sciatica.

  I popped up from my seat and gave them a wave as I headed for the bar. “Thank you, gentlemen, for the reassurances. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

  None of their knees could compete with my launch away from the table, and they had the good sense to forgo attempting to follow me to the bar. The bartender handed me a bill and I added a tip and my room information.

  “Those guys bothering you?” he asked.

  “No. They’re harmless,” I said. “In fact, they were a big help. I was worried about the murder that happened here and was considering cutting my vacation short. But they assured me that the deceased had no shortage of people who would celebrate his demise.”

  “That’s true enough,” the bartender said. “I didn’t know him but the staff talks.”

  “Really? I’m surprised. I figured since he was scamming women, the bar would be like a second home.”

  The bartender shook his head. “He was smarter about it. Look at those three you just talked to. One of them haunts this bar twice a year on his vacation. The two locals are here probably four nights a week. You know how many times I’ve seen them leave with a woman? None. But Otis was different. He approached women in a way that didn’t seem like he was hitting on them.”

  “I heard he rescued a woman from the surf yesterday.”

  “That’s not exactly the way I heard it, but yeah, I’m sure Otis jumped in pretending to save the day. And these older broads eat that up. Most of them have been widowed or divorced and they’re easy targets for someone like Otis, who has the moves down.”

  “I don’t know how some people sleep at night.”

  “Well, Otis slept in a bed that he never had to make, in a resort that average people can’t afford all too well.”

  “Point taken. I suppose those of us with a conscience will never quite get it.”

  “Nope.”

  “The guys said they thought Otis took a couple of staff members for some money.”

  The bartender frowned. “I heard some talking along those lines among the girls in housekeeping, but when I asked about it, they clammed up. I think the woman in question was their boss, so that would explain their desire to keep their gossip to a minimum.”

  “What a shame. Being taken by a scammer is bad enough but then for everyone to know about it…”

  “Yeah. Can’t be all that pleasant.”

  “Well, thanks for the chat. I’m going to head up to bed. It’s been a long day.”

  “Enjoy your stay.”

  I gave the guys a wave and headed out of the bar. I glanced back as I exited, and they were all staring at me, wistful looks on their faces. A better person might have been a tiny bit empathetic, but since I was young enough to be their granddaughter, I just found them delusional. Clearly, Otis had honed his skills for getting women on the line. Of course, he was going for an entirely different end game than those guys and picked his targets very well.

  I headed for the lobby and sent Ida Belle a text, letting her know the mission was accomplished and I was headed back to the room. For all I knew, they might have beaten me back there. Ida Belle claimed men were worse gossips than women, and the three tonight hadn’t disappointed. But women had a way of taking ten minutes to tell a story when twenty seconds would have done just fine, so Ida Belle and Gertie might be a bit behind me. I reached over to press the button for the elevator and that’s when I heard a commotion coming from the direction of the restaurant. My radar immediately went off.

  Gertie!

  Chapter Eleven

  I started sprinting for the restaurant, dodging both vacationers and staff as I went. Ther
e was no doubt in my mind that something unfortunate was going down and that Gertie was right in the middle of it. In fact, I would have bet Ida Belle’s SUV on it.

  I slid to a stop at the entry for the restaurant, almost knocking over the young hostess, who was staring into the restaurant, a frightened look on her face. I scanned the room and had to say, I didn’t blame her.

  Gertie was running down a row between tables, a giant clod of something white dripping from her head and onto her face and body. Another woman ran behind her, screaming unintelligibly and trying to hit Gertie with a pink plastic flamingo that I assumed she’d taken from the buffet centerpiece since the remnants of the centerpiece were scattered on the floor. I gave the woman with the flamingo a solid look.

  A hundred and sixty-two years old, give or take a day. Five foot four. Maybe ninety pounds including the flamingo. Only dangerous if she tripped and bludgeoned someone with the bright pink bird.

  I spotted Ida Belle in the crowd of panicked onlookers, her cell phone held up in the air. I assumed she was recording everything, which made me feel a little better. Clearly, she didn’t feel the situation was going to escalate beyond the flamingo as a weapon. That was a safer bet here since Gertie didn’t have her usual handbag of tricks.

  As the two rounded the front of the restaurant, I could finally make out what Flamingo Lady was saying.

  “You two-bit floozy! He was mine!”

  They ran past and I looked over at the hostess. “Is this normal?” I asked.

  The young woman sucked in a breath, clearly at the point of breakdown. “Oh. My. God. No.”

  She flapped her hands up and down, and I wasn’t sure whether that helped her think or she was attempting to take flight.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I’m going to be fired and I need this job. I mean, it’s a crappy job—look at this mess—but there’s not a lot of work for college students that has decent hours and doesn’t involve showing your boobs.”

  I cringed. “Yeah, that sucks. Let me see if I can help.”

  “Would you? Oh. My. God. That would be awesome.”