by Jana DeLeon
Benton glanced around the room, taking in the cleaning staff working diligently to pick strewn food off the tables, chairs, floor, and one chandelier. Then he gave the woman in the tablecloth a good once-over.
“Let me get this straight,” Benton said. “That woman attempted to assault another with a flamingo? How is that even possible?”
“A plastic flamingo,” I clarified. “From the centerpiece on the buffet.”
Benton looked from me to the manager, his disbelief clear. Ida Belle stepped forward.
“I have the incident on video,” Ida Belle said and held up her phone.
Benton stretched out his hand. “I’m going to have to take that.”
“No,” Ida Belle said. “You’re not. I will send you the file and you can do whatever you’d like with it. But I highly suggest you take this woman to a cell to sleep off her mad because the resort will likely be pursuing a damage lawsuit. It wouldn’t look good if the local police failed to do anything about such an occurrence, especially as it happened at the most exclusive resort on the island.”
Benton scowled but Ida Belle’s point was clear. The resort paid a ton of taxes, which paid a chunk of Benton’s salary. Tourism was what kept their area of the state alive. If vacationers were allowed to run around assaulting others and trashing dining rooms, then people might not want to come to the resort. That wasn’t even taking into account the dead tourist.
Resigned to his duties, Benton’s shoulders slumped. “How the heck am I supposed to get her to jail if she’s passed out?”
Gertie grabbed a pitcher of water from a nearby serving cart and tossed the entire container full in Flamingo Lady’s face. Her eyes flew open and she started sputtering, spitting water everywhere. She looked wildly around the room, finally locking her gaze on Gertie, who was still holding the pitcher.
“I want that woman arrested,” Flamingo Lady demanded.
“There you go,” I said. “All awake and able to walk. I bet she entertains you all night with completely inaccurate stories of how she’s the victim.”
Ida Belle nodded and waved her phone. “But oh, the wonders of the digital age.”
I looked over at Benton. “Since you’ve got your hands full, can I assume we’re free to leave? It’s been a long day and I’d like to get some rest.”
“I’m going to need statements from all of you,” Benton said.
“We’ll be happy to provide them tomorrow,” I said.
“When tomorrow?” Benton pushed.
“When we get good and ready,” Ida Belle said. “We’re on vacation and the last person I want to spend time with is you.”
Fletcher covered his mouth with his hand and inched backward, perhaps wondering if he could disappear into the drapes. He was probably trying to figure out how to explain this level of absurdity to the owner. I had a feeling that if he couldn’t come up with something good, he might be chartering with Deep Sea Dave like the rest of us. Or managing a storage facility in Idaho.
Ida Belle motioned to me and Gertie and we headed off, leaving Benton still glaring at us. As we reached the exit, Gertie spotted the offending pink flamingo on the floor and kicked it.
Then promptly fell into a fake hibiscus bush.
By the time we got showered and onto the balcony, it was close to 10:00 p.m. and we were all already yawning. Instead of beer, we’d all opted for a round of coffee. After all, we had work to do before we could turn in. I filled Ida Belle and Gertie in on what I’d discovered from the men in the bar and made notes on my laptop as I went.
“That’s all I got,” I said. “It’s not a lot, but we have a couple leads on suspects to check out.”
Ida Belle shook her head. “I disagree. You got a whole lot. You got cause of death.”
“Sort of,” I said. “But it’s going to be hard to narrow things down without knowing what kind of poison was used. And poison also presents other problems.”
“Like what?” Gertie asked.
“Like barrier to entry,” I said. “If Otis had been shot or strangled or stabbed to death, then we would have known where and exactly when the delivery of death occurred, so to speak.”
Ida Belle sighed. “But with poison, someone could have slipped it into a bottle of water on the beach or injected a candy bar…things he might not have consumed immediately after the poison was administered.”
I nodded. “Which explains why Gertie was Benton’s first stop. She was the last to share a meal with the deceased.”
“Well, crap,” Gertie said. “I figured the room access issue was going to be the thing that wrapped this up. Check the cameras and the room entry cards and you’ve got a list of potentials. Even if Otis made a booty call after he dropped me off, cameras still would have caught her walking down the hallway.”
I cringed a little at the words “booty call” but her point was accurate, if not unnecessary.
“That also means everyone is back on the suspect list,” I said. “At least as far as opportunity goes.”
“Our list, anyway,” Ida Belle said. “But if we could find out what poison was used and how it was administered, we might be back to a narrower list.”
“Sure,” I agreed, “but how do we get that information? You bonded well with the dispatcher, but I still don’t think she’ll give you case information.”
“Especially when my friend is one of the suspects,” Ida Belle said.
“This would be so much easier if we were in Sinful,” Gertie said.
It was an unfortunate truth. Of course, “easier” referred to our ability to break into the sheriff’s department and lift information from the case files, so not on the legal side of things. But since Sinful was too cheap to spring for the security cameras Carter kept asking for, breaking and entering remained an option.
“Maybe—” Gertie started.
Ida Belle held up her hand. “Don’t even go there. We cannot break into the sheriff’s department. They have cameras and Benton is just looking for a reason to lock us all up and throw away the key. No sense in giving him ammunition.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest a break-in,” Gertie said. “I’m not stupid. Reckless, perhaps, but even I know where the line is.”
I raised one eyebrow but remained silent.
“I see that look,” Gertie said to me. “Okay, here’s the thing. There are cameras on the exterior of the sheriff’s department building, so we can’t break in. But there aren’t any cameras inside.”
“Are you suggesting we teleport into the building then?” Ida Belle asked. “Because that would be very cool, but Star Trek is not real.”
Gertie rolled her eyes. “Your sarcasm is both unappreciated and inappropriate. I’m suggesting we walk in the front door. We have to give statements, right? There were only a couple of people in the department last time we were there. All we need is for one or two of us to create a distraction and then the other can look for the case file.”
“Just like that?” Ida Belle said. “You ask for a tissue or something and in that span of time, we’re supposed to not only locate the case file, but the specific document detailing the cause and manner of death.”
“Why not?” Gertie asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “We’d do better waiting on that teleporting thing to be invented.”
I stared out into the darkness.
“Fortune?” Gertie asked. “Are you still with us?”
“What?” I asked. “Yes. Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“Please tell me you weren’t actually considering Gertie’s harebrained idea,” Ida Belle said.
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s not the worst idea.”
“It’s not even Gertie’s worst idea,” Ida Belle said. “But that doesn’t mean we should try it.”
“I’m not saying we could successfully execute it, because the big unknown is whether or not we could find the case file in the time allotted,” I said. “But I think we could easily create enough distraction to give someone a chance
to look. At least we can if it’s only Benton and the dispatcher in the office.”
Ida Belle sighed. “And what kind of distraction do you suggest? Please don’t say fire.”
During a recent unauthorized investigation, we’d attempted to clear out an office by setting off the fire alarms with a smoke bomb. Unfortunately, we’d ended up starting an actual fire. I’d put it out before it progressed beyond a treadmill, but it definitely wasn’t our finest hour for mission execution.
“As much as I wouldn’t mind setting Benton’s desk on fire,” I said, “I don’t think that’s the best option in this case. With so few people and a small space, anyone lagging behind on the evacuation would be obvious.”
“What then?” Ida Belle asked.
I thought about it for a minute, then an idea slowly began to form. “Let’s start with the basis that it’s only Benton and the dispatcher. If there are more people in the building, then it’s a no-go. Too risky.”
“Okay,” Ida Belle said. “I’m listening.”
“So we have someone call in an emergency that requires Benton to respond. That leaves only the dispatcher. Gertie fakes a heart attack or some other malady, you and the dispatcher assist, and that gives me time to see if I can locate the case file.”
“Won’t the dispatcher notice if Gertie is in the throes of death and you go wandering off?” Ida Belle asked.
I frowned. “You’re probably right. So I’ll have to go back to give my statement first. That way, I’m in the back of the building. When Benton is paged to leave, I’ll ask to use the ladies’ room. Then Gertie does her thing and I show up after the fact, faking surprise and worry.”
“It would be worth doing just to see you fake surprise and worry,” Gertie said.
Ida Belle was silent for several seconds, then nodded. “I suppose it could work, but only if a million things fall in line like dominoes. Something else to be considered is that if another deputy is already on patrol, the dispatcher will send them on a call rather than Benton.”
“Oh, but not if the caller is specifically requesting Benton,” I said.
“Who in the world would request him?” Gertie said.
I smiled. “Our friend Fletcher, maybe? Benton’s the one who took the call here tonight. My guess is Flamingo Lady will be out first thing in the morning. So if someone were to call saying she was causing problems again, and that the manager needed Benton specifically as he was already versed in the situation, then he’d have to go.”
“Since we’re all going to be in the sheriff’s department building,” Gertie asked, “who’s going to make that call?”
“Marie could do it,” I said. “She can use a prepaid cell and we can reimburse her when we get back. She can say she’s an employee calling for Fletcher.”
“They can still trace the call to the nearest tower,” Ida Belle said.
“And that proves what?” I asked. “If we were springing someone out of jail, then it would be a problem. But since nothing is actually going to happen as far as the sheriff’s department employees are concerned, then it’s just a crank call. The fact that it comes from our hometown is definitely suspicious but doesn’t give away motive.”
“It’s convoluted,” Ida Belle said. “But it just might work.”
Gertie clapped her hands and bounced once, then grabbed her head. “Jesus, that flamingo really packed a wallop.”
Ida Belle nodded. “Ole girl was still carrying a bit of speed when Fortune nabbed her. Nice move there, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Speaking of moves,” Gertie said, narrowing her eyes at Ida Belle. “Why didn’t you do anything?”
“I was filming,” Ida Belle said. “And it’s a good thing I was because without that indisputable proof, you’d probably be sitting in a jail cell tonight instead of that crazy woman.”
“I guess,” Gertie said. “But it still seems kind of mean, letting that woman assault me with bad centerpiece art and destroy a perfectly good buffet.”
“You would have done the same,” Ida Belle said.
Gertie grinned. “Yeah, I would have. Let’s watch the video again. The faces of the other diners are priceless.”
“Later,” I said. “You guys haven’t told me what you found out. Or was inciting an assault charge the only thing you managed?”
“I don’t know what Gertie did before the Great Flamingo Chase,” Ida Belle said, “but I did get some information. Of course, it’s not nearly as interesting now that we know Otis was poisoned.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“One of the ladies I was sitting with has a great-niece with a friend who works in housekeeping. The friend overheard a couple of the security guards talking, and they said no one entered Otis’s room last night after he did and he was alone when he went in. Of course, now that we know it was poison, it could have been someone who entered earlier that day or someone who was very clever and never entered at all.”
“I told you he didn’t make a booty call,” Gertie said. “He was probably too stung by my rejection.”
Ida Belle rolled her eyes. “The only thing he might have been stung by—sometime in the future—was your failure to write him a check.”
“Even scammers can get the hots for someone,” Gertie said. “You saw that dining room of options. I’m the obvious choice if he was going to have a romantic fling.”
“Anyway,” Ida Belle said, “this woman’s niece also said that the security guys spotted several copies of checks on the kitchen counter when they went to secure the room after the maintenance reported finding Otis. The checks were made out to Otis from different women.”
“Did they mention any names?” I asked.
“If they did, the friend didn’t hear,” Ida Belle said. “The security guys finally noticed her cleaning nearby and left.”
I nodded and frowned, a new thought occurring to me. “You know,” I said, “given that information, I’m more inclined to believe someone did enter Otis’s room with the poison rather than spiking something while he was out and about.”
“Why is that?” Gertie asked. “It’s a far bigger risk to do it in his room.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “but there was also a big risk of poisoning the wrong person if they did it while he was on the beach or at the pool or whatever. Think about it. Otis’s inroad with Gertie was coming to her rescue. It’s probably a well-used ploy. So he’d be just as likely to give a woman who was coughing his bottle of water, say, than drink it himself. It sounds like he was a consummate opportunist and probably had a play for every situation.”
“But if they put the poison in something in his room, couldn’t the same thing happen?” Gertie asked. “If Otis brought a woman back to his room, he could just as easily have given her the poisoned whatever rather than consuming it himself.”
“I don’t think he brought women back to his room,” I said. “Those checks from other women were sitting out on the table. He wouldn’t have them sitting out like that if he was bringing marks to his room.”
“She’s right,” Ida Belle said. “Besides, it sounds like Otis was working several women at one time and all passed through the same resort property, either as vacationers or staff. It would be beyond foolish to have them in his room. What would prevent one from showing up unannounced when he already had one inside? He had less chance of being caught if he always went to the woman’s room or house or whatever.”
“Then why did he take me to dinner at the resort?” Gertie asked. “He outed himself to Flamingo Lady that way.”
“Based on her cheap bleach job and discount clothes,” Ida Belle said, “I’m going to guess that Otis figured he’d gotten everything he could out of her. Besides, he could always say it wasn’t a romance. It was a business loan.”
“So she says,” I said. “I believe that about as much as I believe that bleach job. I have no doubt he pitched her a business deal, but he definitely did it with a romantic bent.”
“Absolutely,” Ida Belle agreed. “But if there was nothing left on that vine, then Otis would have insisted she misconstrued their relationship. Of course, the money would already be invested, and he’d assure her that everything was legit. Whatever got rid of her.”
“Oohhhh,” Gertie said. “The fastest way to get rid of her was to be seen with another woman. I bet that’s why he booked dinner at the onsite restaurant.”
Ida Belle nodded. “It’s certainly possible. He would have been killing two birds with one stone. He could get rid of Flamingo Lady and put a new target in his sights.”
“But what about the women who worked at the resort?” Gertie asked.
“My guess is he’d either already collected or knew he wasn’t going to,” Ida Belle said.
“I think Ida Belle’s right,” I said. “Plus, if Otis has been pitching his plea for cash as an investment, then he could have told the others that you were a potential investor and it was strictly business.”
“You think they would have bought that?” Gertie asked.
“If they wanted the attention bad enough, yeah,” Ida Belle said. “You heard Flamingo Lady. She already had you painted as a combination of the Pied Piper and the Scarlet Letter. She had convinced herself that any romantic inclinations were all your doing. That Otis was the innocent in all of it.”
Gertie sighed. “I’m not going to lie—it’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed romantic company. But even if it’s another decade, I just don’t see giving up my dignity and self-respect for a lie.”
“Me either,” Ida Belle said. “But there’s a lot of lonely old people out there. And they’re easy prey for the unscrupulous.”
Gertie shook her head. “I hope Otis enjoyed his time on earth, because I have a feeling he’s toasting somewhere a lot hotter than the beach about now.”
“He’s got a lot of company,” I said.
“I’m sure,” Ida Belle agreed, then sighed. “You know, if the poison was in something in Otis’s room, we still can’t narrow down when. It could have been in a bottle of whiskey that he didn’t drink for a week.”