Relic

by Bill Noel

  “Why do you think?”

  “Get real, Chris. Who wouldn’t want this charming, handsome, wise, witty fellow to visit?”

  I wanted to add delusional. Instead, I repeated, “Why do you think?”

  “No idea.”

  That was more like it.

  “When?”

  He looked at his wrist. “As soon as you’re done eating.”

  I knew the answer to the next question before I asked. “Did she say she wanted me to come?”

  “Not in those words.”

  “How did she say it?”

  “The last time we were there, she hadn’t mentioned you coming, yet she invited both of us in. See. she wants both of us.”

  I was ready to point out the lack of logic in his thinking when Amber returned, refilled my cup, and whispered, “Captain Gant.”

  “Gant told Marc about the drug deal gone bad.”

  “Yep.” Amber grinned like she’d solved the Rubik’s Cube.

  Charles said, “He say anything else?”

  “Yep. He said, ‘Ready for the check.’ ” Her grin turned to a smile as she tapped the top of Charles’s head before walking away.

  I asked Charles, “What do you make of that?”

  “He was ready to leave, wanted to pay.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “His story makes sense. It was late, so nobody would be there. One of the cars Laurie saw could’ve been the person waiting to pick up the drugs. After Anthony got separated from Laurie, he could’ve stumbled on the deal. Then, bang!”

  I looked at the increasing crowd waiting for tables. “Or, it could be Captain Gant, dreaming up the story to lead police on a wild goose chase.”

  “That, too.”

  “Charles, thanks for coming. I see you brought your friend,” Laurie said as she opened the door. She looked like she was ready to go to a party in a lavender blouse, white linen slacks, and low-heel, black dress shoes.

  Her comment about Charles bringing a friend was spoken with little enthusiasm, or else I was projecting awkwardness about being there. Regardless, she didn’t turn me away, then asked if we wanted something to drink. We said, “Water” and followed her to the kitchen, where she grabbed three plastic water bottles out of the refrigerator. We headed to the living room.

  Laurie looked at her lap, picked a speck of lint off her linen slacks, looked up at Charles, and smiled. “I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you over.”

  Charles returned her smile. “I was curious.”

  I leaned back on the sofa and remained quiet.

  “The last two years Anthony and I were teaching, all we talked about was moving here when we retired. We batted scenarios around like a volleyball.” She picked another piece of lint off her slacks and shook her head. “We’d be retired, still in our fifties, too young to not do something. We talked about getting part-time jobs.” She giggled. “Anthony wanted to work at that shop on the pier so he could look out the window and see the ocean.

  “I’m a morning person and thought it’d be interesting working at a breakfast restaurant, like the Lost Dog Café, or the Black Magic Cafe. We talked about getting a boat; nothing big, nothing oceangoing, simply something we could use to explore the marsh or nearby rivers. We talked about taking an Alaskan cruise. The boat and the cruise were only dreams because we didn’t have the money. She hesitated and looked down at her slacks. Apparently, she couldn’t find more lint, so she looked back at us. “Charles, do you know what we never dreamed about, never gave a second of thought to?”

  “What?”

  “One of us being gone. Charles, Anthony’s gone. Gone forever.”

  Charles whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  Laurie put her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. “I’m scared.”

  Charles said, “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Laurie moved her hand from her face. “Guys, you’re the only friends I have here. Sure, I’ve talked to people at the stores, I even know a few of their names. I was shocked by how many came to the funeral. I don’t really know them.”

  “It takes time,” I said. “When I moved here, I didn’t know anyone. Then, so many people showed me kindness and true warmth that I felt welcomed.”

  Laurie looked at me as if she just realized I was there. “I know I must keep my head up and move forward. Maybe—”

  Charles interrupted, “Teddy Roosevelt said, ‘By acting as if I was not afraid, I gradually cease to be afraid.’ ”

  Laurie cocked her head at Charles.

  He said, “I get inspiration from presidents.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I hope you, umm, President Roosevelt was right. It doesn’t help now. I’m alone and, my God, Charles, someone tried to kill me.” She jumped up, started toward the kitchen, turned, and looked at us. “What can I do?”

  If, as I suspected, she’d killed her husband, she was a great actress. It still wasn’t clear why she asked Charles to stop by.

  “Laurie,” I said. “Unless you remember something that you haven’t shared with the police, I doubt there’s anything you can do about what happened to Anthony, or the person who shot at the house. The police are good. They’ll do what they can.”

  She glanced at Charles and looked at me. “That night at the Lighthouse Preserve is all a blur. I think I told them everything.”

  I remembered the rumor that Marc Salmon was spreading. “Laurie, I know the rain was heavy, the thunder loud. Do you remember other sounds?”

  “Like the gunshot? I could’ve but didn’t tell any difference between it and thunder.”

  “I was thinking more like a boat motor.”

  “A boat?”

  Charles was feeling left out of the conversation. “We heard a rumor that someone may’ve been delivering drugs by boat to someone near where Anthony was killed.”

  “You’re saying Anthony saw something he shouldn’t have, paid for it with his life. Is that why he was killed?”

  “We don’t know,” I added. “That’s why I was wondering if you heard a boat.”

  “Not really.”

  “You don’t remember anything else about the cars that were out there when you got back to the car?”

  She shook her head and looked toward the bedroom door. “If that’s what happened, why did somebody shoot at me?”

  It was possible that if the death was drug related, the killer could’ve seen Laurie then figured she saw him. Possible, although unlikely since there was a gap between when she and Anthony got separated and when he was shot.

  “Laurie, I’m sure the police have heard the rumor. They’ll investigate.”

  She returned to hunting lint on her slacks, and whispered, “I hope so.”

  Charles said, “They’ll figure it out.”

  “Good,” she said and shook her head. “Sorry I dumped all that on you. That’s not why I asked you over. Gail and Dean are coming back tomorrow for the weekend. They want to take me to supper. I told them not to. A four-hour drive to get here for supper. Stupid. Of course, Gail wouldn’t listen.” She sighed. “Charles, could you come with us? I’m not ready to hear Gail spend all night telling me why I should move to Jacksonville, or griping about the condition of the house, or that I need to sell it. Whatever else her gripe of the day is.”

  “I don’t want to take time away from you, and your friends.”

  “Please.”

  Charles smiled. “Sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  The mood was broken when Charles said, “Can Chris come? He could be my date.”

  “Oh. I don’t want to impose. I’m sure he has better things to do than spend time with strangers.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  Laurie faked a smile. “He’s welcome to join us.”

  She wasn’t as good an actress as I thought she was.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Charles and his “date” were to meet the others at Taco Boy on Center Street. I told Charles that I’d
meet him in front of the popular restaurant and was there thirty minutes early. My friend was next door to Taco Boy, leaning against the green, brick wall of the Palms gift shop. He wore a long-sleeved, royal blue T-shirt with Gators on the front, and orange shorts that matched the color of Gators.

  Instead of saying “Hi,” or anything normal people might utter, he pointed his cane at the outdoor patio at Taco Boy and said, “How about eating outside? It’s in the shade.”

  I reminded him that, when we ate with the same group after the funeral, they preferred air-conditioned comfort.

  He reminded me that it was twenty degrees cooler than it was after the funeral. Besides, he liked the outdoor tables which were a couple of feet from the sidewalk, so he could check out the people walking by and talk to their pets.

  I hadn’t been invited, so I deferred to Charles.

  One of the six-foot-long picnic-style tables on the patio was available. After Charles assured the hostess that there would be three others, she seated us. A server was quick to the table, told us he was Timothy, and asked if others would be joining us. I told him there’d be more, so we’d wait for them before ordering.

  “Wrong,” Charles said. “An order of nachos and a Cadillac Margarita for me. I suppose the boring guy beside me wants white wine, the cheapest you have.”

  Timothy looked at me as I shrugged. He said, “No problem,” and headed to the bar.

  Charles leaned past me to set his Tilley on the wide railing separating the patio from the sidewalk. “What can I say? I’m starved. I have a feeling I’ll need the margarita, and more, before the night’s over.”

  Bud Light was usually the most exotic drink my friend ordered.

  Charles said, “Do you still think Laurie shot Anthony?”

  “Not as much as I did before yesterday.”

  “Good. I told you she didn’t.”

  “Charles, she still could have. She has the strongest motive. I have trouble wrapping my arms around the odds on Anthony being at such a desolate place stumbling on a drug deal.”

  He looked past me at the retro Christmas lights that were strung along the railing, waved at a couple passing by, then said, “I don’t think she killed him. I do have a feeling she’s lying about searching for Civil War relics.”

  “I agree.”

  Before we got over the shock of agreeing on something, our nachos and drinks arrived. Laurie may’ve been lying about something, but Charles hadn’t been when he’d said he was starved. He’d stuffed three nachos in his mouth before the waiter asked if we wanted anything else. I looked at the cheese oozing out the corner of Charles’s mouth and said, “Extra napkins.”

  “No problem.”

  I inwardly snarled at the server.

  With Charles stuffing his mouth, I figured it’d be an appropriate time to tell him about Grace and what happened at her food truck. Eating kept questions to a minimum. For Charles, minimum meant no more than one each thirty seconds. He managed to garble out one of his most often asked questions less than a minute into my description.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  There was never an acceptable answer, so I didn’t try, and continued the story. By the time Charles got around to asking what kind of hot dogs Hot Diggity Dog! sold, I was saved when he spotted Laurie, Dean, and Gail walking toward the entry. He yelled for them as he pointed to the table, like they wouldn’t know it was where they’d be joining us.

  A few seconds later, they arrived. Charles slid closer to me so that Laurie could sit on our side of the bench seat. Dean and Gail moved to the other side but, before sitting, Gail said, “Don’t you think it’s too hot out here?” She pointed to the door to the inside dining room. “I saw a nice table in there. Let’s move.”

  Laurie glared at her. “This is fine. Our friends are already here.”

  A great way to start a pleasant meal, I thought.

  Dean smiled as he slid across the bench seat. Gail mumbled something under her breath then followed her husband.

  She noticed Charles’s T-shirt, wrinkled up her nose, and said, “I hate the Gators. Do you have to throw it in my face?”

  For one of the few times, Charles was speechless. Laurie saved him when she smiled. “I’m sure that, since you’re from Florida, Charles was trying to make you feel at home. Now, Charles, what’s good to eat here?”

  As if on cue, Timothy appeared to ask if anyone needed drinks.

  Charles was quick to say another margarita, I said I was fine.

  Each of the others ordered beer.

  Charles proceeded to tell the visitors that, since the restaurant was named Taco Boy, they couldn’t go wrong with tacos.

  Whether Gail bought it, or she didn’t want to talk to anyone who threw the University of Florida in her face, she didn’t ask him about the multiple taco options.

  Laurie asked Dean if business was good at the tire store. I suspected it was to steer the conversation away from the growing rift between Gail and Charles.

  “Not bad.”

  “Not bad, crap,” Gail said. “How about sucking wind. With Costco, Walmart, and every big box store under the sun selling tires by discounting the hell out of them, mom and pop shops can’t compete.”

  “It’s not that bad, dear.”

  “Tell that to our damned banker.”

  Timothy returned with drinks, and I was about to tell him I needed more wine, a lot more. Instead, I asked if everyone was ready to order.

  Gail said, “Yeah, tacos. They better be good.”

  Seventeen different taco iterations were on the menu, so she wasn’t going to get off that easy. Timothy did a respectable job of describing the most popular choices, did an even better job of not throwing Gail’s beer in her face. The rest of us ordered, and Timothy left the table, probably contemplating a career change.

  Dean smiled at Laurie and turned to Charles, “Laurie tells us you’ve been good friends and have stopped by the house to see if she was okay. She said you’ve also kept her up on what the police are doing to catch the horrible person who shot Anthony. She’s here by herself and needs—”

  “Needs to move back to Jacksonville,” interrupted Gail.

  I hoped we weren’t going to rehash that discussion. Laurie had made it clear that this was her home. Couldn’t Gail let it go?

  Laurie reached across the table and put her hand on Gail’s hand. “Now, dear, I know you’re concerned about me. I appreciate that, I really do. I’ll be fine.”

  Laurie was trying a new tact. I hoped it’d be more effective than getting angry, like she did the last time Gail shared her feelings about Laurie returning to Florida.

  Gail pulled her hand away then balled her fist. “Don’t come crying to me the next time someone shoots at you.”

  Charles leaned toward the Clarks. “How long will you be staying?”

  He was trying to diffuse the tense situation. I hoped their answer would be that they were leaving after supper, if not sooner.

  Charles succeeded, although I didn’t get the answer I wanted, when Gail took a deep breath, faked a smile, then said, “We’ll head back Sunday evening. Dean has to go to some dingy hotel in Miami all next week for the annual meeting on something about tires.”

  Dean added, “Independent Tire Dealers of the South.”

  Charles smiled. “Sounds interesting.”

  Really, Charles?

  “Not terribly interesting,” Dean said. “These meetings are critical if we’re going to compete with the big guys, if we’re going to stay in business.”

  Our food arrived, saving me from having to listen to more about tires dealers, independent, or otherwise. The taco put Gail in a better mood. She asked several non-hostile questions about how Charles and I had come to Folly, what were some of the best places to visit in Charleston, and what Laurie’s plans were to remodel her house. She used neutral terms, like it needed tender loving care, or a few upgrades, rather than calling it dump like she had the last time she went on a rant about i
ts condition.

  We ordered more drinks, Timothy managed to deliver them to us with no problem. Customers at the tables around us came and went. Despite the way it had begun, the evening, the conversation, and the warmth expressed by the Clarks and Laurie continued on the uptick.

  I was finally relaxing while enjoying the company when Gail said, “Laurie tells us that you think poor Anthony came across drug dealers out there in the middle of nowhere. That’s what got him killed.”

  I said, “That’s a rumor going around. There’s never a shortage of rumors when something bad happens. I don’t know if it’s true.”

  Gail said, “Is that what the police think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I thought you were friends with the chief,” Gail added, not letting it go.

  “We’re friends. That doesn’t mean she talks about investigations. The lead on the case is a detective from the Charleston County Sheriff’s Office.”

  Gail pointed her beer bottle at me. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Laurie.” She set the bottle on the table and stared at it. “I can’t help but think that, if Dean and I’d been here that night instead of in Florida, Anthony may still be with us.”

  Dean added, “Or we’d all be dead.”

  “Enough!” Laurie said. “Don’t ruin a wonderful evening with friends. What’s past is past. I’ll be fine.”

  Her comment reminded me of Abraham Gant’s views on the past. I need to call Cindy in the morning to see if she had any information about the captain. It made more sense that he could’ve been the killer than the unlikely event Anthony stumbled on a drug deal.

  The evening ended on a more pleasant note than it had begun. Gail thanked Charles and me for keeping an eye on Laurie. Laurie thanked us for putting up with her and her friends squabbling. I lied when I told her it was okay, also when I told Gail and Dean I enjoyed spending time with them. Charles grinned as he covered Gators with his hand on our way to the exit.

  We got to the sidewalk where Laurie, Gail, and Dean headed one way, Charles started the other direction, stopped, and smiled. “That was fun. Let’s do it again.”

  I smacked his arm.