by Jana DeLeon
“I hope that flicker becomes a flame before Benton gets the DA’s approval.”
“You and me both.” She pointed to the ocean. “But in the meantime, the view is excellent.”
I stared out at the ocean, the sunlight making the water sparkle like diamonds. Boats were already headed out to sea, probably all looking for that perfect fishing spot. Below us on the beach, employees of the resort were setting up chairs and umbrellas, creating long rows of blue.
Just another day in paradise.
Except for the murder part.
We decided against breakfast at the resort, just in case Benton came calling, and opted for the café we’d eaten at on the mainland. Since it was a weekday, and after 9:00 a.m., it was fairly empty and we easily found a private table in the back corner. We gave our order to the server, sipped on coffee, and stared at nothing. Finally, we all sighed.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Gertie said, “but maybe we should take a day off from investigating and see if something shakes out.”
“And what should we do instead?” Ida Belle asked. “Sit on the beach and wait for Benton to show up with handcuffs?”
“We could always go fishing again,” Gertie said. “Dave would take us out in a heartbeat.”
“When he didn’t find us at the resort, that would be the first place Benton looked,” Ida Belle said.
“So let him,” Gertie said. “The big scaredy-cat isn’t going to come out there and get us, and Dave can always pretend his radio stopped working.”
“And all our cell phones as well?” Ida Belle asked. “This isn’t Moby Dick. There are other forms of communication.”
“Spoilsport.” Gertie looked over at me. “You got any ideas?”
“I’m afraid I’m all out of them,” I said. “Except breakfast.”
The server sat our plates on the table and headed off. We all picked up our forks and attacked the breakfast, but I knew none of us were focused on our food. Well, maybe Gertie was. But eggs and bacon definitely weren’t at the forefront of my mind. My thoughts all centered around my failure on this case. And it brought home just how much of an advantage I had in Sinful, where I had a relationship with the local cops—a strong one—and Ida Belle and Gertie knew everyone and most everything that happened.
I knew cops dealt with the same issues. Sometimes all the trails they followed led to dead ends, and unless a new clue surfaced, they were at a stalemate. It was why warehouses were full of cold case files. But somehow that made me feel worse instead of better. I needed that new clue. No way I could head back to Sinful without knowing, even if Gertie was off the hook.
We had just finished breakfast when my phone signaled a text. It was from Carter.
Feds are DEA. That’s all I could get. Be careful.
My pulse rate shot up. That was it. The clue I’d been waiting for. The thing I’d been missing.
I read the text to Ida Belle and Gertie, struggling to contain my excitement.
“This is it,” I said. “This is what I’ve been missing. All this time, we’ve assumed Martin was killed by one of the women he scammed and that the big payoff he was expecting was another woman. But I don’t think it was a woman at all.”
“You think it was drugs?” Ida Belle asked.
“Think about it—all those fishing trips into the Gulf, with specific coordinates, but Otis didn’t fish. At least, not when he was with Betty, and since Cynthia said he never brought fish back, I’d bet he’s never cast a rod. He was prepping for a drop. Plus, he’s talking about a big payoff and the DEA shows up at this resort and mentions the Key that the real Otis was at before. I’m certain that’s where Martin was as well.”
“So what are you thinking?” Ida Belle asked. “That he made connections in the Keys and picked up a route here?”
I nodded. “And came here as Otis Baker to throw the DEA off his trail.”
“Then why scam women if he was coming into serious cash?” Ida Belle asked.
“He was waiting for the job to happen,” I said. “These things don’t occur overnight. They take planning and he would have needed funds to live on while he was waiting.”
“Okay,” Ida Belle said. “I can buy that but if he was setting up for the big paycheck, why was he getting ready to jet?”
“Because the DEA was onto him,” Gertie said.
“Possibly, but I think the answer is probably simpler than that,” I said. “One thing I know for certain about men like Martin Hughes is that they’re cowards. My guess is he planned on doing one run, collecting the cash, and then disappearing again.”
Ida Belle nodded. “And if his drug contacts or the DEA went looking for Martin Hughes or Otis Baker, neither would be here, because he would have already moved on as someone else.”
“You really think it would be enough money to set him up for life?” Gertie asked.
“Depends on how big the run is,” I said. “But it should definitely be enough to get him fake documents and out of the country. Then he’d have a whole new nation of women to scam if he found himself running short.”
“And none of the women he screwed in the US would be able to find him,” Ida Belle said.
“Or accidentally come across him like Penny did,” Gertie said.
I nodded. “And even though she thought he didn’t recognize her, it’s possible that he did. At minimum, he knew there was a risk of it happening.”
“But if he was in another country,” Gertie said, “that risk was almost nonexistent. Or he could have chosen an extradition-free one and then it didn’t matter regardless.”
“All of this seems to fit,” Ida Belle said. “But then who killed him?”
“My guess is his drug contacts,” I said. “If the DEA was in the Keys poking around, then you can bet they heard about it. No way they would leave Martin walking around. He’d roll in a heartbeat to save his own skin.”
“And being new on board, so to speak, they might have even thought he was an informant,” Gertie said.
“Entirely possible,” I said.
Ida Belle nodded. “So what now? I love your theory and I think you’re onto something, but we don’t have any proof. Only speculation.”
My phone rang again and I saw it was Byron. This could not be good news.
“Bad news, Fortune,” Byron said when I answered. “Benton got the okay from the DA to arrest Gertie. He’ll be coming for her soon if he hasn’t already left. Where are you guys?”
“On the mainland at breakfast,” I said. “And I don’t guess we’ll be returning anytime soon.”
“Did you figure anything else out as far as the suspects go?” he asked.
“Yeah, and I’m working on finalizing my thoughts. In fact, we’re off to pursue another avenue of investigation now. I’ll let you know when I’ve got it all wrapped up in a bow.”
“I wouldn’t be a good attorney if I didn’t tell you to be careful. And Carter would kill me as well.”
“There’s already been too much violence,” I said. “I’m just going to get information and then turn it all over to you. But I think the DA will find it compelling.”
“Good. Call me if Benton gets his hands on Gertie, and make sure she knows not to say a word to him until I get there.”
“We’ve got to go,” I said as soon as I hung up. “Benton has his okay. Gertie is on the chopping block.”
I tossed some money on the table and hurried to the front to pay the bill.
“Where are we going?” Ida Belle asked as I practically jogged them to the car.
“Boat hunting,” I said. I pulled out my phone and called Dave. “Hi, Dave. It’s Landlubber Lisa from the other day.”
“Hey, Lisa,” Dave said. “You guys want another fishing trip?”
“Not at the moment. I was hoping you might be able to give me some information on another charter. Do you know a guy called Mikey Marlin?”
“Yeah, I’ve known Mikey since the crib. He’s a local.”
“Do you know what marina he keeps his boat at?” I asked.
“It’s on the mainland. John’s Boat Launch and Marina. I, uh…you looking to hire him for fishing?” His voice had changed during the conversation from jovial to somewhat hesitant.
“No. I wanted to talk to him about something else. Why? Is Mikey someone you think I should avoid?”
He hesitated a couple seconds before answering. “Not exactly. I mean, in general Mikey’s a good guy. We were best buds for a lot of years. Hell, me and some of the local commercial fishermen took turns staying with him while he had cancer. He kicked it a year ago and was doing good, but lately, he’s started acting strange. Wouldn’t come out with the guys and when I went by the marina to check on him, he didn’t seem happy I was there.”
“When did his behavior change?”
“A week or two ago.”
About the time Martin arrived on the island and started chartering fishing trips.
“I appreciate the information,” I said.
“No problem, and if you change your mind about fishing, I’d be happy to take you out. Half price.”
I thanked him and hung up. “Look up John’s Boat Launch and Marina,” I said as I started the car.
“Got it,” Ida Belle said. “It’s two miles from here, just down the highway.”
I turned out of the parking lot and set off in the direction of the marina.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“What’s the plan?” Ida Belle said. “Mikey had to be in on things with Otis so he’s not going to chat with us. And we can’t exactly search his boat. Sounds like he might live on it.”
“I don’t have a plan yet,” I said. “But I’d like to get a look at that boat and at Mikey, assuming he’s around. Then hopefully, I’ll think of something.”
“You always do,” Gertie said. “You’re quick on your feet.”
“That’s because being friends with you means she has to be,” Ida Belle pointed out.
I pulled into the parking lot of the marina, and parked next to an SUV that blocked us from the pier. I scanned the area but only saw one person—an older man carrying an ice chest to a rusty truck.
I hopped out of the truck and waved at the man as I headed over. “Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me where to find Mikey Marlin?”
The man put the ice chest down at the back of his truck and pointed to the pier. “His boat’s about midway down. The Magic Marlin. But I ain’t seen him in a couple days.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I was supposed to talk to him about a charter. I guess I’ll go see if he’s there. Any place he would be if he wasn’t on his boat?”
“He haunts the Shark Bar pretty regular, but I ain’t seen him there for a while either.”
“Okay. Let me help you with that.”
I grabbed one end of the ice chest and we lifted it into the bed of the pickup. “You must have gotten a good haul.”
“Pretty good. Got dinner for a week, anyway. You ladies take care.”
I set off for the pier, motioning at Ida Belle and Gertie to follow. I scanned the boats as we went, stopping when I reached the Magic Marlin.
“Hello, Mikey!” I yelled. “I got your name from Deep Sea Dave. I wanted to talk about a charter.”
I waited for a bit, but no one responded and I didn’t hear any movement inside. I looked over at Gertie. “You got any gloves?”
“Of course,” Gertie said. “What do you take me for, an amateur?”
She pulled a set of latex gloves from her beach bag and I put them on.
“Just in case,” I said.
Ida Belle nodded. “I wish I had my weapon on me. Something doesn’t feel right.”
I pulled my gun from my waist and handed it to her.
“Wait here,” I said and boarded the boat.
I knocked on the cabin door and waited again, but still no response. I opened the door and looked in, but I knew what was in there before I saw it. There was no mistaking that smell. A man who I assumed was Mikey Marlin lay on the bench, a single bullet through his forehead. I backed out of the cabin and looked over at Ida Belle and Gertie.
“He’s dead.”
“What?”
“How?”
They both cried out at once.
“Single bullet hole through the forehead. No weapon on site.”
“How long?” Gertie asked.
“A day or two,” I said.
“I don’t get it,” Ida Belle said. “Why go to the trouble of poisoning Martin but shoot this guy?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe because with Martin’s scamming they figured the police wouldn’t look any further for a motive.”
“So this is it?” Gertie said. “The drug dealers killed both of them? It’s kind of a letdown on the big reveal.”
“I imagine most crime is exactly what it looks like,” I said. “Bad people doing bad things.” I glanced back at the cabin, something about the whole situation bothering me. Aside from the obvious. “I’d like to take a look around, see if there’s anything that supports our theory.”
“Do you want us to help?” Gertie asked.
“No. Keep watch and if someone pulls into the parking lot, let me know. The last thing I want is to get caught on the boat with this body.”
I headed back into the cabin, careful to breathe with my mouth, and started searching the drawers and cabinets for anything relevant. Fortunately, the bench the body was on had open storage below, so I didn’t have to figure out how to shift the body. I made quick work of the cabin, then checked the closet and the bunk at the front. Nothing. What now? I headed back to the cabin and plopped down on the bench across from the body.
And heard a crinkling sound.
I stood up and pulled the cushion off. I had checked the storage beneath the bench, but I hadn’t checked inside the cushions. I unzipped the fabric cover and reached inside, pulling out a piece of paper and an envelope. I opened the paper first and read. It was a letter from an oncologist. And the gist of it was that Mikey’s cancer had returned and his only option was an experimental treatment that insurance didn’t cover. A very expensive experimental treatment.
Well, that was the answer to a couple of questions—why Mikey was acting weird and why he would take up a risky venture like drug running with a loser like Martin. I opened the envelope and pulled out some pictures. The first few were pictures of fish and although the catch was impressive, I had no idea why it was necessary to hide the pictures in the cushion. Nor did it make sense to take the pictures after they’d been slit open. The next picture was of the Gulf, a tiny speck in the distance that I assumed was a boat. The remaining two photos were closer shots of the boat and I frowned.
I’d seen this boat before.
And then it hit me. I shoved the photos and the letter back in the cushion, zipped it up and ran out of the cabin, startling Ida Belle and Gertie.
“What’s wrong?” Ida Belle asked.
“Everything,” I said, and practically ran down the pier. “I was wrong about everything.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You want to fill us in?” Gertie huffed as she ran after me.
We jumped into the car and I took off out of the parking lot.
“Call the resort,” I said. “Ask for Fletcher.”
Ida Belle pulled out her phone and did as I instructed, giving me curious glances as she did. “He just headed out,” she said when she disconnected. “He’s going boating.”
“I bet he is,” I said. “Probably headed straight for Cuba.”
“I don’t understand,” Ida Belle said.
“Martin wasn’t the one running the drugs,” I said. “Fletcher is.”
I told them what I’d found on the boat.
“So you think Martin was blackmailing Fletcher?” Ida Belle asked.
“I think he was trying,” I said. “Remember his record? Martin wasn’t exactly new to the extortion game.”
“So Fletcher killed him,” Gertie s
aid. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “It all fits. Fletcher told us the owner of the resort knew him from where he worked in the Keys and gave him the promotion here. What do you want to bet it was the same resort Martin was at? And both owned by the same guy?”
“You think the owner recruited Fletcher to run drugs for him?” Ida Belle asked.
“Yeah. Maybe Fletcher had a drug route in the Keys and the owner promoted him to manager here to cover a new route. Or replace whoever was handling it before. Think about it—Fletcher knew the cameras were broken. He probably intentionally put off signing that invoice for the parts in case Martin was a real threat and had to be dealt with.”
“Genius,” Gertie said.
“Fletcher had access to the puffer fish at the resort and no one would think twice if they saw him walking on any floor,” I continued. “He could have easily swiped Martin’s card while he was on the beach and again, no one would have thought twice about the resort manager walking around.”
“And Fletcher knew Martin was scamming women and figured that’s who the police would look at,” Ida Belle said.
“But scamming women doesn’t cover shooting Mikey,” Ida Belle said.
“Mikey was a local fisherman and according to Betty, a rough sort,” I said. “The locals would look into it as a fight gone bad over a card game or a woman or any of the other sort of nonsense that men get up to at places like the Shark Bar.”
Ida Belle nodded. “They definitely wouldn’t have leaped to colluding with a known woman scammer to blackmail a drug dealer.”
“Exactly,” I said. “But now the DEA showed up and ruined everything.”
“So you definitely think the resort owner is in on it?” Gertie asked.
“I think he’s running the show,” I said. “And so does the DEA but they screwed up. They’re looking so hard at the owner that they questioned Fletcher. Twenty bucks says they’re trying to find him and my guess is he’s lying low.”
“You think they came right out and told him they were DEA?” Gertie asked.