Raising Prosperity

by Cherie Mitchell

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “Me neither, but she used to say it alot.”

  Reuben concentrated on his driving for several miles as Prosperity applied hand-cream to her dry hands. Reuben took a right turn and swung the car towards Katama Bay.

  “Oh, I heard back from Lance Kruger. He finally returned my call.”

  “Yeah? What did he say?”

  “He wanted to know what I wanted, which I suppose is natural enough. Not many people feel comfortable receiving several calls from a police officer when they don’t know the reason behind the calls.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said I needed to ask him a few questions about the processes Blue Jay Candy uses for its production. I didn’t mention Ophelia, but he would be a fool not to put two and two together.”

  “Did you make a time to see him?”

  “He said he’s going to let me know but I did warn him that I’m expecting to interview him sooner rather than later. I firmly indicated that this afternoon or tomorrow is about as much leeway as I’m prepared to give him.”

  “Here!” She shouted the word, louder than she intended, as Reuben drove past Bad Moon Rising. “You nearly missed it.”

  “And you nearly gave me a coronary.” Reuben stuck a finger in his ear and jiggled it vigorously. “Whoa, you have a fine voice on you, Miss Spartanburg.”

  “My daddy always used to tell me that,” Prosperity said modestly. “He would say to me, Prosperity Moonbeam Spartanburg, you have a voice that would make a tiger pistol shrimp green with envy. He always wanted me to be a singer.”

  “A tiger pistol shrimp? Does that taste good with garlic butter and a smidgeon of sriracha?” Reuben licked his lips.

  “I don’t know about that, but I do know that it has the loudest voice in the animal world. My daddy told me so.”

  “Nice. You should tell Spinner about that voice of yours when you go out on his yacht. He was telling me he needs a new foghorn.” Reuben saw the look on her face and reached over to squeeze her knee. “Only kidding. Let’s go and see this reluctant friend of yours.”

  Mish and Joey were sitting at a table in the sun just outside the door of the bar. He gave Prosperity a limp wave as they approached, while Joey hopped up and moved in front of Mish as if to shield him.

  “See?” Prosperity hissed at Reuben, “I don’t think they like me.”

  “I’m not sure if I like them. Are rats on leashes allowed in restaurants?” Reuben skirted doubtfully around the tables, taking his time to approach the duo. “Does it bite?”

  “Apparently not, but I’m a little wary of those teeth. Hi, Mish!” Prosperity gave him her cheeriest greeting and the most hospitable smile she could dredge up. “I’m so glad you found the time to see us today.”

  “You didn’t make it seem as if I had a choice.” Mish sniffed and passed Joey a peanut from the bowl on the table.

  “Everything in life is a choice,” Prosperity said briskly.

  She introduced Reuben and they both took a seat, although she couldn’t help but notice that Reuben took the seat the furthest away from the wallaby even though it didn’t put him in his prime police-grilling position opposite the subject. She supposed he was doing it to prove that everything in life was a choice. Or else he was just shit scared of the wallaby.

  “We wanted to see you today to go over a few things that you and I have already spoken about. We saw Spinner McKee the other day and he confirmed your movie production tale, so there is nothing for you to worry about there. I guess I just want to make sure we haven’t missed anything and, aside from that, I’m curious as to why you decided to stay on the island when there’s no longer any reason for you to be here.”

  “Yes,” Reuben seconded her statement, “Why are you here rather than looking for the next location? Isn’t that what location scouts do?”

  “There is a reason.”

  Prosperity waited while Mish made a show of scratching Joey’s ears and petting his muzzle. At last, he sighed and folded his hands into his lap.

  “I have a grave confession to make.”

  Prosperity braced herself. He wasn’t about to tell them he’d murdered Ophelia, was he? He was too slight, too feeble of frame to have done that but then again, she’d been surprised many times before in her life.

  “I’m not a location scout. I was only a gaffer for The Dog’s Bawlz.”

  Prosperity hadn’t expected this. “You were? But why are you here on the island? Why were you looking for Ophelia’s house?”

  “I wanted a fairytale. That’s why I was so drawn to the gingerbread houses of Oak Bluffs. What could be more reminiscent of a fairytale than those cute little candy-colored cottages?”

  Prosperity nodded, satisfied with this answer. Who didn’t want a fairytale? However, Reuben wasn’t so prepared to take Mish’s answer at face value.

  “Did the movie company know you were here? How do you know Spinner? Prosperity said you were the person who told her of Spinner’s sponsorship of the movie spoof.”

  “No, the movie company doesn’t know I’m here.” Mish dropped his head, his expression shy and bashful. “I have a small crush on Spinner and he does know me by sight. I wanted to see where he lived and where Ophelia lived. It’s all part of the fairytale, I guess.”

  “I can understand that. I have a small crush on Spinner myself.” Prosperity was more than happy with this explanation, sure in her own mind that Mish had nothing to do with Ophelia’s death.

  Reuben opened his mouth to speak but Mish beat him to it. “Besides, as I said, I have a reason to be here. I canceled my flight so I could spend some time with Jonty.”

  He looked over Prosperity’s shoulder and waggled his fingers coyly at the barman.

  Prosperity whipped around to see the bearded barman giggling as he returned Mish’s wave. “Oh, I see. That makes perfect sense. You’ve been a busy boy, Mish.”

  “I have. What’s that phrase? All things in moderation.”

  “Oh, please.” She cast an amused eye over Mish’s blonde tips, his vibrant pink Hawaiian shirt, his therapy wallaby, and then back to his smirking, bearded boyfriend.

  “Okay, okay. All things in immoderation.” Mish cackled gleefully, his laughter frightening Joey out of his sleepy-eyed doze. The wallaby jumped to his feet, its little paws raised like a tiny boxer about to enter the ring, and scuttled behind Mish’s chair while Reuben lifted his feet in alarm.

  Reuben waited until Joey had settled himself before resuming his questioning, apparently not yet as sure as Prosperity was that they were done here.

  “Prosperity said you were a little reluctant to see us today. Can you explain that?”

  Mish dropped his eyes in embarrassment.

  “I thought Prosperity had set her romantic sights on me. She kept popping up wherever I happened to be.” He looked at her through lowered lashes. “I thought you were following me. I thought today’s meeting was your idea of a date, especially when you suggested meeting here at the bar.”

  “No chance, Mish. I’m sure you’re a very nice man but my interests lie elsewhere.” She felt Reuben’s eyes on her but she refused to return his keen stare. She stood up quickly, sending Joey into small conniptions behind Mish’s chair. “Thanks for seeing us. Good luck with your man.”

  28

  The Message Behind

  “That was a waste of time,” Reuben grumbled as they walked away from Bad Moon Rising. “As if you’d be romantically interested in him.”

  “Mmmm. We need to talk to Lance Kruger. My spidey sense is telling me that he’s the key we need to unlock this mystery. He’s the only one left. It has to be him.”

  “The Kruger yacht is moored at Edgartown Marina. Let’s pay Mr. Kruger a surprise visit now.”

  “You’re not going to phone ahead?”

  “Nope. I don’t want to give him any more warning than he deserves. I have a lot of questions for our Candy King and I want them answered today
.”

  Prosperity sat quietly as Reuben drove, working conscientiously through her Ophelia Rump checklist in her head and crossing off the points they had now satisfactorily dealt with.

  Reuben glanced at her. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “I was just going through the case. We’ve come to the conclusion that no one who attended the party with Ophelia eight days before she died is involved. We’ve spoken to Mish and Spinner and they’re not suspects. We interviewed Pinnacle and he’s off the list. We had a chat with Chase and while we haven’t found anything concrete to rule him out, I’m willing to bet he isn’t our man either. His profile doesn’t match the man we’re looking for. Ophelia’s long lost cousin Bruiser turned up but it’s clear he doesn’t know anything.”

  “So far, so good. Our Clutch Cargo clue remains a mystery, but in the end it may turn out to have nothing to do with the case.”

  “Right. That just leaves the tattoo and the charm bracelet. We’re hoping Lance can give us the answer as to why Ophelia’s expensive charms ended up in packs of his family’s candy, so we’ll shelve that one for now. Which brings us back to the tattoo.”

  “You already know I disagree with all of your theories about the tattoo. I think we’ll probably never know the connection between the bluebird, the fish, and ECSTATIC. Ophelia took her reasons for getting it inked on her butt to the grave with her.”

  “I’m not prepared to give up on the tattoo,” Prosperity said stubbornly. “You haven’t given me any of your ideas about it. I’m the one who’s been trying to link it all together since we first knew it existed. What do you think?”

  “I already told you what I think. I think Ophelia got the tattoo for her own obscure reasons. It has no connection to her death.”

  “Maybe.” Prosperity stared out the window, catching glimpses of the ocean from the road as they passed by. “My daddy always said there’s a message in everything if you take the time to look.”

  Reuben snorted. “You sure it wasn’t your mama that said that? Sounds like one of her kooky generalist statements if I ever heard one.”

  “No, it was Daddy. He knew what he was talking about,” Prosperity said crossly. “He wasn’t just an aging hippy pothead.”

  “I’m sure he wasn’t, and I meant no disrespect to your father by my comment. However, if you apply his philosophy to say … ,” Reuben glanced around, “Take your shoulder bag, for instance. Are we looking for a message in that? If so, what could that message be? Ah, I know! The message is that this bag belongs to a young woman who is fond of Cheetos, energy drinks, and bubblegum.”

  He leaned forward slightly to get a better look at the trash poking out the top of Prosperity’s bag. “Oh, and she also has a fondness for frangipani scented hand cream.”

  Prosperity snatched up her bag and hurriedly stuffed everything back inside save for the hand-cream, which she used to coat her hands. “You’re just being silly now.”

  “Yes, I am being silly. But how else was I supposed to take what you said about your daddy and looking for messages in things? I’m an analytical person, Prosperity. I need logic and facts.”

  “Daddy meant that a person sometimes needs to take a look behind what’s presenting itself to them. Look beyond the illusions to find the truth.”

  “Okay, I expect you’ll snap at me again for saying this but I’m going to say it anyway. For a man who worshipped at the mystical altar of Mary Jane, it seems a little odd that he would warn his daughter to watch out for illusions.”

  Prosperity gave an exaggerated sigh. “You’re just not getting it.”

  “Give me an example then. Go on, we have the time. We’re still ten minutes away from the marina.”

  “Remember the Amazonian Temple Flick Trick that he taught me? The one I used to catch the bathtub murderer?”

  “I do. I was very impressed by that trick and I’ve told you that numerous times.”

  “He taught me other tricks as well.” Prosperity gazed dreamily into space as she sunk back into her memories of her idyllic homegrown childhood in Arcata. “He taught me how to light a fire with Doritos, how to use an empty beer can for a stove, and how to spit fish.”

  “Spit fish?” Reuben finally acted interested. “Is this something I should know about? I’m always looking for clever fishing tips.”

  “It probably wouldn’t work for sea bass, given that they live in deep water, but it works for minnows. You take your shirt off, wade out into the river, and drape the shirt over your arms to make a scoop. Dunk the shirt under the water and spit on the river surface. The minnows will come, thinking they’re about to enjoy a buffet, and you can lift your shirt up quick as a lick to catch them.”

  Prosperity grinned proudly.

  “I’ve done it myself more times than you can poke a stick at.” She remembered she hadn’t been using her bear stick lately. Perhaps it was time to give Reuben-the-bear a good old poke.

  “Minnows? What use are minnows to anyone?”

  “My mama always made a minnow goulash with our catch and Mama and Pappy both said it was delicious. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Ruby. I never tried it because I don’t eat fish but I’m happy to take their word for it. Oh, and he taught me how to make a potty in the woods. He knew lots of cool survival stuff. Daddy was once a member of the SAS—did I ever tell you that?”

  Reuben almost drove off the road at this news. “He was? No, you never told me that! Prosperity, that’s amazing!”

  “It is, isn’t it? He even made it to the rank of Club President for one term.”

  “Wait, what club?”

  “The SAS,” she explained patiently. “Stogie And Stank. They spent a lot of time in the wilderness. That’s where he learned all his survival stuff.”

  “Ohhhh.” Reuben took a moment to digest this information. “That’s all very nice, but what has this got to do with Rolling Stone’s philosophy that there’s a message hiding behind everything?”

  “Okay, I’ll give you an example that you just can’t argue with. This one time we found a strange photo in our letterbox. The postman had just been by and I’d seen him drop it in so we knew it had come in the mail. It was a picture of Venice, with the water and canals and all, and we couldn’t work out what it meant or why it was in our letterbox. That was until Daddy turned it over.”

  She waited triumphantly for Reuben’s a-ha moment, her hand twitching on her imaginary bear poking stick.

  However, Reuben only looked confused. “What is that supposed to mean? I don’t get it.”

  “It was a postcard! There was a message behind it.” She folded her arms and tucked her stick away, content that she’d accomplished her mission.

  “Um … ” Reuben gave her the side eye and she raised her chin defiantly, daring him to say anything more.

  “Well now,” Reuben said brightly. “Looks like we’re nearly there.”

  Prosperity looked out the window at the narrow, tree-lined street and picturesque buildings. “I’ve always liked Edgartown. There’s a great pizza bar here.”

  “Yeah, it’s a popular place. Great ice cream, too.” He steered through town toward the ocean and marina. “Let’s hope Lance isn’t out getting food.”

  29

  Grandiose Yacht

  The Blue Jay yacht was even more impressive up close. She was all gleaming white sleek lines, proud bow, and luxurious fittings. Her name, Grandiose, was painted in swirling script on the glaring white finish and accompanied by the image of a strutting blue jay. Prosperity stood on the wharf beside Reuben and gazed at the yacht’s sublime beauty, nearly dumbstruck by what she was seeing.

  “She’s gorgeous. More gorgeous than she looked out on the water and I wouldn’t have thought that was possible.”

  “Just goes to show what you can have if you have the money to pay for it.” Reuben paced the length of the yacht and back again. “Doesn’t look as if anyone is around.”

  “There’s someone working on their boat over there. I
’ll go ask him if he’s seen Lance.” Prosperity wandered over to where a man with a potbelly, a bushy, yellow beard and a faded anchor tattoo on his freckled bicep was washing down the deck of a yacht that wasn’t quite as impressive as the Kruger vessel but still way out of her pay scale. He looked up as she approached but he didn’t stop working.

  “Hello! It’s a lovely day to be out on the water.” She made sure to put on her sweetest face. Prosperity Moonbeam Spartanburg wasn’t above using her womanly wiles to get what she wanted, although she knew she wasn’t anywhere near Meghan’s league.

  The man grunted and kept scrubbing. He looked kind of familiar but for now, she couldn’t place him. “We’re looking for someone. I wonder if you’re able to help?”

  He didn’t even bother to look up this time. “I don’t have any on me. Come back tomorrow and bring cash.”

  “You don’t have any what?” She glanced down the wharf to where Reuben stood with his back to them looking out across the ocean. Deciding that now was as good a time as any to act on her woman’s intuition, she lowered her voice and took a step nearer to the side of the yacht. “I need some Mad Dog. Ophelia Rump was a friend of mine. She recommended you.”

  “That so?” He picked up the pail of water and sloshed it across the deck, causing Prosperity to jump back to avoid getting soaked.

  “Yeah.” She suddenly remembered where she’d seen him before; he was the man who’d been whispering with Mish at Bad Moon Rising a week or so ago. Ramping her woman’s intuition up another notch, she added, “Mish Talbot recommended you, too.”

  The man turned to her at last. “I already told you, I don’t have any on me today. Come back tomorrow. I’ll be working in Bay No. 7. If I’m not there, ask for Marty.”

  He jumped down heavily, landing on the wharf with his two booted feet spaced far apart and his large belly wobbling like a plate of jelly, and stomped away without a backward glance.