The Manatee Did It

by Kay Dew Shostak

  We all laugh a little, and then Craig ducks out toward the back of the house. He’s claimed a corner room beside the back door for his home office. It looks like it might’ve been some kind of a parlor or dining room originally, as it’s really big and has formal wallpaper. What’s left of it, though—big surprise—is mostly faded and falling.

  Annie leans back and sighs as she looks around, her bright blue eyes stretched wide like a child’s at Disney World. “Imagine this. Me sitting in the Mantelle house with an actual Mantelle. You said at lunch you’d never been to Sophia Island before? Must’ve been a shock to see this place.”

  “Oh, it sure was. Craig had said it was big, but I had no idea. I think I glamorized living in an old home. This sure doesn’t look like any of the magazines.”

  “So, your husband knew about the house? He’s been here before? How is he related to Cora? There were always so many Mantelles to keep straight. A lot of them have moved away, but I bet the ones left here have enjoyed getting to see the house since they were forbidden from it for so long.”

  “There are Mantelles here? In Sophia Beach?” If so, this is the first I’ve heard of them. “Why were they forbidden from being in the house?”

  “Oh, honey. There are more Mantelles around here than you can shake a stick at. I’m surprised they’re not coming out of the woodwork to get in here. As for why Cora forbade them from coming here, it was some old family fallout I reckon. Some of the old folks around might know. Then when Cora checked herself into the mental hospital, must’ve been almost ten years ago, she closed this place up good. Everybody always wondered what was going to happen to it.”

  I nearly choke on my sip of water. “Mental hospital? Why?”

  Annie’s eyes get even bigger, and she shrugs. “Probably was more like an Alzheimer’s unit, who knows? But let’s talk about this afternoon! What did Charlie say?”

  “Charlie?”

  “Charlie Greyson, Aiden’s partner. Did he say who the dead man was?”

  “No, but I talked to him apparently before lunch!” I wrap my arms around my waist again and try to warm up.

  Annie nods. “That’s what I heard. Are you cold, honey?”

  I shrug. “I’m always cold, and this dark house doesn’t help.”

  Annie picks up her glass of water and laughs. “It’s ‘cause you’re so thin. Me? Now, I’m never cold. This heat here about burns me up. Love this time of year, though, ‘cause it’s still chilly.”

  I can’t help but smile. At lunch every woman talked about how cold it’s been. They were wearing coats, even some scarves. It’s not hard to tell the tourists and recent arrivals from up north from the locals. We’re the ones with our sleeves pushed up, no coats, wearing sandals in sixty-degree weather.

  As Annie takes a drink, she jumps a bit. “Oh, there’s my phone.” She pulls it out of the pocket of her long jacket, answers it, then listens. Her eyes flash at me, and she says to the other person, “That’s where I am now.”

  She presses the end button and lays the phone on the couch beside her while she takes a sip of water. “That was my youngest, Annabelle. She’s manning my police scanner at the house. Something’s going on with this thing. This wasn’t just a heart attack or an accident like we thought.”

  While she was on the phone, I thought through our conversation. “You said you heard I’d talked to the man before lunch. Who did you hear it from?”

  “Oh, everyone was talking about how the dead man was talking to a pretty lady in a red sweater and white pants on the dock. Guess the patrons at the restaurant saw him talk to you before he walked around to that big boat at the end. He had on a bright shirt, and it caught folks’ attention. Wonder why he wasn’t wearing that in the water?” She lifts her phone. “I’ll text Aiden and tell him to check for that shirt.”

  “Oh, the police know. Well, they know that the man was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I told them. Guess that’s why it never connected when I saw the body. What is it?”

  Annie’s phone dings, and as she reads the text, her mouth falls open. Mouth still gaping, she looks up to stare at me, then whispers, “They’ve identified the body.”

  I lean forward. “Do you know him?”

  She shakes her head, then shrugs. “Not exactly, but well, you might.”

  That makes me sit up straight. “Me? How would I know him? I just moved here! Besides, when I talked to him, I didn’t know him. Who is—um, was it?”

  Annie turns her phone toward me, and I stand up to get closer. One word jumps out at me, like it must’ve jumped out to Annie. Mantelle.

  “Pierson Mantelle?” I murmur. “Who’s that?”

  Annie looks up at me. “He moved away years ago. I kind of remember him from school, but like I said, there’s too many Mantelles around here to shake a stick at.”

  Her phone dings again, and she lifts it. This time, her mouth settles into a thin line as she reads. “Yep. He was most definitely murdered.”

  “Murdered?” I squawk. Then I sink back onto the chair.

  After another ding, Annie’s mouth gets even tighter, and she types on her phone in a flurry. Then she practically throws it onto the little table near her. Well, the nearest one; there are several tables in the vicinity. “I’m just disgusted with myself. Here’s a murder right under my nose, and do I stick around to investigate? No, I hurry home to listen to the police scanner. We could’ve been eating right there with the murderer, and I wasn’t paying any more attention than a gnat!”

  “But how do they know he was murdered?” I ask, ignoring the part about eating next to a murderer.

  “He was hit on the head. Big glass margarita pitcher on the deck of his boat was lying there. Looks like someone grabbed hold of it and swung it at him. Well, that’s what Adam says. Adam works for the marina. He’s kind of the boss, so he was right there at the scene with the police until they discovered it wasn’t just an accident.” When her phone dings again, she leans over and reads it from its place on the table. “Adam again. Yeah, he says it’s a mess down there at the marina. Yellow caution tape everywhere. Says you can practically hear the word ‘murder’ being passed from person to person.”

  I smile. “Adam? Let me guess: another one of your children?”

  She grins and pushes off the couch to stand. “Yep. He’s my oldest boy.”

  “How many children do you have?” I ask as I also stand.

  “Six. Three boys, three girls.”

  “All of them have ‘A’ names?”

  “Yep. Now, can I use your restroom?”

  “Sure. Last room on the left past the staircase. Sorry that it’s such a mess. All I’ve done is clean it a bit. I wasn’t planning on having any company.”

  “Oh, it’s fine. I won’t be in there but for a minute, then I want to hear more about how you came to live here. If we’re going to help Aiden and Charlie, I need to know more about the Mantelle family, don’t you think?” She winks at me and heads down the hall.

  I pick up my glass and carry it to the kitchen, saying to myself, “I think as a Mantelle, I need to know more about the Mantelle family. And for that, I think I’m going to need wine.”

  Chapter 6

  “Wait!” Annie puts her hand to her chest, bracelets rattling, and staggers back against the kitchen island where we were leaning to talk. “Your Craig is C. J. Mantelle, who spent summers here on Sophia? Now that I just didn’t see at all. But of course it’s him.”

  “C. J.? I don’t know about that. I just know he stayed with his aunt Cora for the summers because his mother had to work. They lived in Atlanta.” I sniff and shake my head. “C. J.? I’ve never heard anyone call my husband that.” I look in Annie’s direction, but all I can see is her mop of curls as she texts on her phone again. Probably to one of her kids.

  I swirl the crisp pinot grigio around my glass. After Annie got out of the bathroom, I offered her some wine and we settled in to discuss what little I know about my in-laws.

  It seems even An
nie Bryant knows more than I do. She talks as she texts. “C. J. was a few years younger than me, but my sister and her friends would stalk him every summer when they were teenagers. His aunt Cora kept him pretty much to herself.” She looks up at me. “I’m sure he told you all that, right?”

  Her focus on me is intense, especially from someone who seems to be in a tizzy all the time. I shrug and turn to the sink. “Not really. We never talked about his summers here. He just said his aunt was crazy and pretty much a hermit.”

  We turn as Craig steps into the kitchen. “Who’s a hermit?” he asks.

  Over my shoulder I toss, “Your aunt.”

  He nods. “You’re right about that. You can see from this house she was also a hoarder. Even before she checked into the care facility. What are we thinking for dinner? Can I get a glass of that wine?”

  “Sure. So you finished your work?”

  He nods as I hand him an empty glass.

  Annie watches as he fills the glass from the bottle of wine still sitting on the counter. She takes a sip of hers, then says, “So you’re C. J.”

  Craig lifts his glass. “I haven’t been called that since the last time I was here, what, almost forty years ago.” He tips his head, his dark eyes examining her with a smile. “Did we know each other then?”

  Annie laughs. “No, but my sister and her friends stalked you around town and at the beach. You were always their summer mystery. I’m a few years older. Jewel says you didn’t tell her about the other Mantelles in the area.”

  He shrugs. “Don’t know anything about them to tell. I pretty much forgot about everything here when I went off to college. This isn’t a place most of the world even seems to know about. My mother dumped me here with my crazy aunt every summer so she could work and not have to pay a sitter. Then she’d hurry back to Atlanta until the day before school started when she had to come get me.”

  I step closer to the kitchen island to screw the top back on the wine and put it in the refrigerator. “We found out who the man in the water was, honey. I guess it was one of your cousins—or second cousins? Pierson Mantelle.”

  “What?” he yells.

  His exclamation surprises me, and I whirl around to look at him. However, he’s moved away from us and is facing toward the windows.

  “Craig? Did you know him?”

  He takes a sip of wine, then turns back to face us. “Know him? I don’t think so. Just hearing our last name, I guess, threw me off.” He looks up at Annie. “Did you know him?”

  Annie shakes her head and frowns. “Not really. He was quite a bit younger than all of us. In his forties, probably. His mom was the second wife and all that. I’m going to have to talk to some friends that keep track of all of that ‘who is related to who’ stuff. That is not my forte.” She laughs, then looks down at her phone. “Uh-oh.” She jerks her head up and looks at me. “Charlotte Bellington, you remember her from lunch today? Aiden and Charlie just left her house and are headed this way.” She downs the rest of her wine in one gulp and then sits her glass on the old Formica. She leans on the counter with both hands. “Do you have a lawyer?”

  Craig bursts out with a laugh. “A lawyer? Why would we have a lawyer? Jewel didn’t see anything.”

  Annie focuses her intensity at him. “I’m serious. My Abbie is a lawyer, and I can get her over here in no time at all.”

  I tense and set my glass on the counter. “You think I need a lawyer?” When we hear a knocking at the front door, I grab Craig’s arm. “Maybe we should get her daughter to come by?”

  He sits his glass down beside mine and pats my back. “Let’s just see what they want, okay?” He leaves the kitchen and goes to open the door. I follow him, but Annie hangs back in the kitchen.

  “Mr. Mantelle, or should I call you C. J.? Why didn’t you tell us earlier who you were? C. J.” Officer Greyson says as he comes in the door. This seems like a strange opening question to me, so I wait for Craig to respond.

  “I haven’t been called C. J. in decades. I wasn’t hiding anything, just didn’t think about it.” He pauses and swallows. “How can we help you officers now?” Craig sounds wary, and the hair on my arms stands up.

  Aiden smiles at me and tips his head. “Ma’am. My mother still here?”

  “She was in the kitchen, but she may have left out the back door. She said she needed to go.” Even as the words came out of my mouth I know Annie hasn’t left but is still in the kitchen listening to our conversation. For some reason I’m glad about that.

  Aiden calls out, “Mom?”

  No one answers. Yep, Annie and I are on the same page.

  Officer Greyson continues with Craig. “So did you know earlier that the deceased was Pierson Mantelle, your cousin?”

  “How would I have known that? I didn’t even know my cousin, if that’s what he was. I don’t remember any Pierson Mantelle from when I lived here. My family was a bit dysfunctional, I’m sure you know that. Besides, my mother never connected with her family after I was born. You can imagine getting to know my Mantelle cousins wasn’t in my plans when we moved back here.”

  “Mrs. Mantelle.” The officer turns to me. “Did you know Pierson Mantelle?”

  “No, I, uh, no.” I start to explain more but remember Annie’s talk of a lawyer. And the hours of crime shows I’ve logged. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I look around for a jacket to put on. Either my northern blood has thinned in record time or the police are making me nervous because I’m suddenly freezing.

  Craig sinks onto one of the ottomans near the front of the living room and sits with his elbows on his knees. “Wouldn’t you know it? I come back to this place, and within a week some distant cousin gets himself murdered.”

  “What time did you get home today, Mr. Mantelle?” The officer nods at Aiden to take notes.

  “I don’t know. Around one? I left the jobsite outside Daytona near ten. Made a couple detours to look at some things. Got lunch and came home. I really wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

  “When and where were your last detour, sir? I need as clear of a timeline as I can.”

  Craig’s mouth forms a thin line. “Bunnell Beach for gas. I think I stopped at a BP a little after eleven thirty and then came up through Jacksonville to look at a couple road projects my company’s bidding on.”

  Aiden scribbles that down. I wait for Craig to ask why they want to know all that. I mean, I want to know why, but he just stares at them.

  “Then you came straight home?” Greyson persists. “Went nowhere else in town?”

  “No, straight home.”

  Greyson turns to me. “Ma’am, what time did you get home?”

  “Two. Around that, I guess.” I hold off a shiver. “Why? We didn’t even know this man. We just moved here.”

  The officer clears his throat and makes a wrap-it-up motion to his partner as he steps back toward the front door. “Yes, ma’am, but you understand it seems a little fishy that your husband didn’t tell us who he was when we were here earlier. It’s not good when information comes out after the fact like that.” At the door he puts his cap back on and turns to us. “So, there’s nothing else either of you need to tell us, right?”

  “No, nothing,” I say, then look at Craig.

  He shakes his head at me, then at the officers. Aiden tugs the big door open, tips his cap at me as he puts it on, and they both leave. When the door shuts, Craig pushes up on his knees to stand. “I think I’ll go for a run.” He heads to the main staircase that leads to the second floor and our bedroom.

  I watch him climb the stairs; then, when he enters our bedroom and shuts the door, I tiptoe into the kitchen and whisper, “Annie?”

  She peeks out of the butler’s pantry, where she’d ducked behind boxes and bags stuffed with old vases and baskets. Our eyes meet, and we both sigh. She says, “Leaves me with one question.”

  “Me too,” I say as I pick up our wine glasses and sit them in the sink. “How did Craig know his cousin was murdered?
”

  Chapter 7

  When I turn away from the sink, I look back at Annie, expecting to see her nodding in agreement. Instead her eyebrows are arched high and her mouth hangs open before she finally squawks.

  “Oh my! That’s right! How did he know Pierson was murdered, that it wasn’t just a heart attack or something? Unless he was listening to us talk. Is that like him? To listen in on conversations?” Her bright eyes are wide as she grabs my arm. “Oh my, Jewel!”

  I shake off her hand. I’m beginning to see Officer Greyson’s reticence at having her involved. “No. Of course he doesn’t listen in on conversations. Well, at least I don’t think he would. But tell me what your one question is.”

  She takes a breath, and I can see her mind backtracking. “Oh yeah. I wondered why the police were at Charlotte Bellington’s, though I do believe your one question is better.” She leans toward me and whispers, “Should we go ask him?”

  “No, I’ll ask him later. You’re right. He probably just innocently overheard us, but he seemed surprised to hear who it was so he didn’t hear us say that apparently. I’m sure it’s nothing, but you’re also right about Charlotte and the police.”

  Annie fluffs her curls and stands straighter. “Let’s go see her.”

  I look around. I planned on getting so much done today, but our involvement in this mess really needs to be wrapped up. My nerves can’t handle any more of the police popping in. “Okay, that’s probably a good idea.” We walk out of the kitchen, and at the bottom of the main staircase, which will be lovely once it’s cleaned, then repaired—or is it repaired and then cleaned?—I yell up the stairs. “Craig, I’m going for a walk with Annie. Have a good run.”

  Annie is bent over at the front door, tugging on it with both hands as I walk up behind her. “Here, let me,” I say. “You have to lift and pull.” With the door opened and pulled shut again, we pause for a breath on the front porch. I find it pretty disorienting to have so much green in the yard in only March. What’s crazy are all the falling leaves. Great bunches of them, just like an autumn day. The road is full of them, and they blow around in the wind.