by Bill Noel
The awkward what-next silence was broken when Chester’s Buick and Cal’s convertible pulled in beside us. Cal and William hopped out, while Chester, Harriet, Theo, Connie, and David exited the Buick at the speed of an earthworm. I stifled a laugh when I saw that each of them wore a bright red cap with .5 OR BUST on the crown. Even Cal had replaced his Stetson with one. Chester handed Charles and me identical hats and beamed with pride as he said that he had them made for today’s “historic” adventure. Crediting myself for wisdom that came with age, I didn’t mention that our “historic” adventure was being accomplished by way of boat rather than the walk that was the goal of the group and the reason for .5 on the caps. Instead I replaced my Tilley with Chester’s thoughtful, inaccurate gift.
Cal pulled his much-travelled guitar case out of his back seat and announced that Chester had suggested that since we were riding, Cal could share a few travelling, boat-riding, and beach tunes with the group. It didn’t take much to encourage the country crooner to break into song, and I was glad that Chester had asked. Cal whispered to me that he had iced his strummin’ hand all morning to keep his arthritis in check. David lugged a medium-sized cooler and said that all he knew about it was that Chester said it was a surprise. I’d had enough surprises recently and wasn’t as enthused as David appeared to me.
Connie hugged Robbie and thanked him for taking the group; Chester echoed her sentiments without the hug, and Robbie led us to the entrance to the marina. Unlike Mel’s boat that had numerous battle scars from years on the marsh and heavy partying, Robbie’s Carolina Skiff was spotless and looked like it had come straight from the factory. I glanced at the bottom of my shoes to make sure I didn’t track dirt aboard. Robbie managed to get everyone seated, a wise move since I suspected some of the passengers would topple over once we began.
We moved out of the no-wake zone close to the marina and Robbie gunned the powerful Suzuki engine as we moved under the new bridge connecting Folly with the rest of the continental United States. Chester was trying to say something but the roar of the engine drowned him out. Robbie was in a hurry to get the trip over with, but pulled back on the throttle after Chester pantomimed for him to slow down.
The Folly River was sandwiched by marsh and ran behind the island. Larry and Cindy’s house was to the right, and I gave a brief thought to the trouble that Larry could be in and how the person I believed killed Abe was ten feet from me.
My thoughts were interrupted when Theo pointed at a large house along the marsh. “That’s mine!” he screamed as if he had to talk over the Suzuki. The engine was idling so Theo could probably be heard by his fellow passengers, and also by people miles away walking along the Battery in Charleston. Harriet leaned over and put her arm around his waist and kissed him on the cheek. Robbie must have figured that we’d had enough quiet time and gunned the engine as we continued to where the river narrowed and snaked a path through the increasingly dense marsh grasses. He had slowed to avoid running aground in the pluff mud, oyster beds, and other obstacles lurking beneath the surface. The putrid smell of decaying plants and animals assaulted my nose.
Robbie tried to point out some of the ecological features but only David listened. Connie and William were huddled together talking about how much she hated boat rides and William was countering by how much more enjoyable the ride was than trying to make the trip on foot. Theo, who couldn’t have heard anything anyone was saying even if the engine had been turned off, looked off to the left and appeared deep in thought.
Harriet leaned toward Charles and me and put her finger to her lips, and whispered, “Theo and I are getting married.”
She said something else that I didn’t catch, and I leaned closer and said, “Congratulations. When’s the big event?”
Harriet glanced at Theo who continued to stare at the marsh. “We, umm, haven’t set a date.”
Filtered through my belief that she had killed Abe, I wondered if Theo knew about their marital plans. Either way, it made me even more confident that she was the reason Abe wasn’t making the historic trip with us.
It was low tide so Robbie couldn’t take the more direct route to Lighthouse Inlet and the four mile trip was taking longer than usual as we weaved through the circuitous stream avoiding the shallower tidal creeks. We were moving at a snail’s pace, and Chester was walking from person to person sharing his excitement about reaching Boneyard Beach.
William moved to my side of the skiff. “Have you learned more about the precarious position Larry finds himself in?”
“Not really,” I said. “Don’t think the police have talked to him again.”
William grinned. “Perhaps the police will not be able to figure it out, but history would indicate that you will find a way to clear his name.”
David moved closer to us. “You don’t think he killed Abe?”
“No,” I said.
“Interesting,” David said.
“Chris is positive he didn’t,” William added. “He’ll catch the perpetrator.”
I appreciated his confidence, but wasn’t as positive and said so.
“I do know that you are looking,” he said.
I shrugged. “All I know is that Larry’s innocent.”
“And you will find a way to extricate Mr. LaMond from his dilemma,” William added.
“What’s that all about?” Theo asked.
“Nothing,” Harriet said. “Enjoy your big day.”
A small fishing boat passed us as it headed toward the dock. To its three occupants we looked like a meeting of a redneck chapter of the Red Hat Society with our red caps bathed in sunlight. Connie was standing at the helm beside her brother. I couldn’t catch all of their conversation but heard bits and pieces about Timothy’s wedding and how he still needed money. Connie said she felt for him, but didn’t have any to loan; Robbie said he didn’t and was afraid that the wedding may be off.
Cal stood behind Connie and Robbie and started strumming, “Redneck Yacht Club.” The song was many years newer than Cal’s preferred playlist, but he sang a passable version of Craig Morgan’s hit; besides, with the engine revving loudly, few of the travelers could hear him.
The narrow waterway intersected the wider Lighthouse Inlet and Robbie steered the boat right toward the Morris Island Lighthouse and our destination. Cal was on much more comfortable musical ground as he transitioned into “On the Road Again,” and the termination of Chester’s dream trip was in sight.
Robbie inched the bow of his craft onto the sand; the opposite as Mel had when he had nearly thrown me overboard when he rammed the Magical Marsh Machine on the beach. I suspected Robbie was more concerned about his new fiberglass hull than for the aging bones that could have been broken on some of his passengers if he’d hit harder.
Chester was first off. If he had an American flag, he would have planted it in the sand before announcing, one small step for .5 kind. Charles and I were the next on shore and we gave a hand to the others as they exited the craft. Theo remained seated as everyone else got off. Harriet stood in front of him and leaned down and asked if he was okay. He said he was a little queasy and wanted to stay on the boat a few minutes. Robbie said he was going to stay close, and would watch after Theo. Harriet reluctantly agreed and Charles helped her to shore.
Ten minutes later, Cal had moved to the nearby graffiti-covered foundation ruins left from the Coast Guard property, had taken his guitar from its case, and began an impromptu concert. With the lighthouse and Lighthouse Inlet as a backdrop, he waded into his more-familiar songbook with a medley of Hank Williams Sr. heartbreak songs. Connie and William had walked to a small grove of dead, bleached trees, and David, Harriet, and Chester moved closer to Cal as he sang, “Your Cheatin’ Heart.” I was thrilled that Chester’s group had made it to their destination, regardless if by foot or float.
Cal finished strumming and Chester raised his hands and clapped them together over his head. “Group, gather round.” He waved for us to move closer. Theo was still
on the boat with Robbie but Chester didn’t seem to notice. Chester motioned for David to set the cooler on the top of the foundation and Chester pulled out two bottles of cheap champagne and a stack of clear plastic cups. “I propose a toast to the best damn walking group this side of the Folly River.”
A safe statement since it was the only walking group on Folly, and Charles yelled “Here, here!” as Chester fiddled with the foil on the top of the first bottle. Charles saw him struggling and grabbed the second bottle and started opening it. And, for reasons that I didn’t understand, Cal started singing “Auld Lang Syne.” Chester, with a grin as large as a Frisbee, sang along, followed by Connie, David, and William. As I listened to the group fumbling through the words that only seem coherent to a room full of drunks on New Year’s Eve, I realized the true meaning of “it’s the thought that counts.”
I also realized that Theo, the primary reason we had taken a boat to Boneyard Beach, was still on the boat, and Harriet seemed engrossed in singing and drinking champagne. Robbie and Theo were in deep conversation, but since Theo was missing the festivities, I wanted to break him free and help him hobble over to the group.
Robbie’s back was to me and Theo faced me as I approached. He assumed that everyone heard as poor as he did, so quiet was not in his vocal range. He said, “How do you know?”
Robbie’s response was drowned out by the water lapping against the side of his boat and Cal singing, “How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Go Away?”
Theo shook his head and pointed his finger at Robbie. “Okay.” He saw me and waved me over to the boat. “Hey, Chris, give me a hand. I need to get to the fun.”
Robbie leaned against the throttle and watched as Theo, with a great deal of my aid, managed to get off the skiff. Harriet noticed us and rushed to help her “fiancé.” The three of us walked toward the foundation/bandstand/bar and Robbie followed closely behind.
The first bottle of champagne was empty but the second was hardly touched. Cal had returned his guitar to the case and the group began pairing up and walking around the deserted beach. William and Cal walked down one of the handful of paths leading from the beach to the marsh, with Cal pointing to something along the side of the path and laughing. Chester, Connie, and David explored a clump of trees the beach had been named after. Connie laughed when Chester tried to pull himself up on one of the trees. He would have had better luck if he’d been a minnow. Harriet and Theo seemed satisfied to remain at the foundation while Theo made up lost time imbibing. Charles and I stayed with them since we had explored the area several times over the years and I had been here a few days ago with Mel. And Robbie had returned to the boat, spread out on one of the bench seats, and appeared to take a late-morning nap.
I smiled to myself and thought how wonderful and cathartic the trip was for each member of the group. I smiled until I realized that Mel was in jail for killing someone within a couple of hundred yards of where we were, and that Larry was the prime suspect for killing a member of this group.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Like most return trips, the ride to the marina seemed shorter than the trip over. The excitement of reaching their goal, combined with champagne, sunshine, and a combined lifespan approaching the age of coal, had taken its toll. Charles and I were the only members who weren’t dozing. I was sitting beside Chester who was snoring louder than the roar of the Suzuki. The others were quieter, but still asleep.
We were near the bridge when we were bounced by the wake of a larger boat heading the other direction, and most of the group were jarred awake. Chester removed the red cap that had been covering his eyes and clapped for everyone to pay attention. All but Theo responded and Harriet had to shake him awake. Chester said that he was proud of everyone for their incredible accomplishment and said that Robbie deserved a hand for taking the group at a reduced rate. I was slow to applaud because I was trying to figure out how the boat ride was such an incredible accomplishment. I didn’t waste much brainpower on it and joined the rest of the group as we applauded while Robbie docked his pride and joy.
Chester laughed and patted each member on the back and hugged the two ladies as we stepped on the wooden dock. It was good seeing him this happy. His smile disappeared when Harriet missed the step and fell hard. William, ever the gentleman, rushed to her, asked if she was okay, and tried to help her up. She said she had reinjured her ankle and to give her a minute. David carried the cooler to Chester’s car and Cal took his guitar case to his Cadillac while the rest of us gathered around Harriet.
“I’m fine,” she said to Chester. “Could you drop me at my house instead of back to yours?”
William helped her up and acted as a human crutch as she gingerly hobbled to the car. They were so slow that Theo beat them to the vehicle and moved to the back seat instead of his customary spot in the passenger’s seat so Harriet could have easy access.
Charles and I beat Cal and William to Chester’s house and it was another half hour before the group leader pulled up and only he and Connie climbed out.
“Did Theo and David fall out?” Charles asked.
“Theo said he was a wee-bit exhausted from the trip and wanted me to drop him at his house,” Chester said. “David said he had an appointment and would get his car later.”
“I’m only here to get my car,” Connie said. “Sorry, Chester.”
Chester’s smile faded. “Our biggest adventure, and look who’s left to celebrate it.”
I had planned to sneak out early, but seeing that his post-adventure party only consisted of Cal, William, Charles, Chester, and me, I knew I was in for at least an hour of lemonade, stale cookies, and reliving our big adventure. I hinted for Cal to get his guitar, but he either didn’t catch the hint or was crooned out.
Chester had been rejuvenated from his nap and was ready to party. Charles and I hadn’t had the advantage of a nap and I wondered how many more times I could hear Chester say how exciting today had been before I dumped the pitcher of lemonade over his head. Cal saved Chester when he said that he’d had “about as much fun as an inebriated hyena could have,” and excused himself. William didn’t put it that way but said he’d better call it a day, and Charles and I jumped on the bandwagon, or the mass exodus, and followed Cal and William off the porch.
“Hold up a sec,” Chester said, as I reached the car. “I nearly forgot. Theo asked me to give you this.” He handed me a folded piece of paper, thanked us for being part of the “really big day,” and headed in the house.
I got behind the wheel, turned up the air conditioner, tossed my red cap in the back seat, and opened the folded paper.
I caught myself holding my breath as I read: Need to talk about the killer.
I read it a second time and handed it to Charles who had been leaning over trying to make out Theo’s words. Charles read the note and looked at me. “What’re you waiting for?”
On the way to Theo’s, Charles asked if I thought that Harriet had confessed to killing Abe and Theo wanted to tell us. I didn’t respond but thought it had to do with something more recent, something that reinforced my hunch about who’d murdered the student.
I pulled in Theo’s drive and looked up at the massive two-story elevated structure and was once again impressed by its size and view of the marsh. Theo came out the front door and waved us up the stairs.
He smiled and motioned us in. “Thought that’d get you here.”
I had never been in the house, but wasn’t surprised by the interior. From the entry, there was a clear view through the kitchen to large windows overlooking the marsh and the river. I envied him and his sunset view. He led us to the great room filled with substantial, light-colored, wood furniture and offered us seats on a latte-colored couch. There were original oil paintings of coastal lowlands on three of the walls and expensive looking knickknacks on the tables. I recognized the name of two of the artists. Either Theo had a sophisticated eye for design or the home was professionally decorated. I told him it was stunning; he
said he supposed so, and that it cost him a mint to have someone get it that way.
That answered my first question, so I led into my second. I pulled his note out of my back pocket and said, “Killer?”
“First, thanks for coming. I didn’t know who else to go to. I figured the cops would laugh at me and I knew you’re a detective.”
I started to protest, but Charles jumped in. “Go ahead.”
Theo looked at Charles and back to me.
“Let me ask you something,” he said.
I nodded.
“Did the police tell anyone where the kid’s body was found?”
“Sure,” Charles said, again before I could speak. “Boneyard Beach.”
Theo sighed, “I know that. That’s a big place. I mean exactly where they found him?”
I thought about what I had heard both around town and from Cindy about who knew the exact location. “Don’t think so.” I glanced at Charles who shook his head. “Why?”
“I’m being rude,” Theo said. “Want something to drink?”
I wanted to scream “No! Get on with your story?” Instead, I said “No thanks.”
Theo looked at Charles who shook his head, and then he turned to me. “I’m old, ancient according to some; I know my memory’s not what it used to be. I’m slow afoot, ask anyone in the group; and, I’m almost deaf.” He shook his head. “There’s one thing I’m not. I’m not stupid.”
“You’re definitely not stupid,” I said.
“Remember this morning when I stayed on the boat?”
“Sure,” Charles said.
“Captain Robbie was with me. I’d talked to him about everything I could think of to pass the time. I’d run out of things to say, so since we were in the vicinity, I asked him if he knew where they found the body.”
I thought I knew where he was going but wanted him to get there.
Theo looked at Charles, and at me, and out the large bay window toward the marsh. “Well, the captain stood up and pointed out past the foundation where you all were partying and said, ‘About a hundred feet to the left and back a small trail to the marsh.’” He cocked his head, looked out the window, and turned back to us. “Fellas, how would he know that unless he was there?”
