“Blunt object, as you guessed. I'm pretty certain it was that wrench one of your boys tagged and brought in. The head of the tool matched the wound. In theory at least. We have a few more reports to finish before I can tell you for sure, but I'd lay odds on Mr. Humberger on a concrete floor with a wrench.”
This further irritated Lou because he knew that the ME was misquoting the game of Clue. The accusation always included the name of the suspect, not the victim.
With a tired wave of the hand that Farraday couldn't see through the phone, Lou dismissed the man's attempt to be coy.
“The time of death?” Lou persisted.
“There is a small problem with that,” Farraday said.
“Problem?”
“Because it was so hot in the building where the body was found, it's more difficult to provide a precise time of death.”
“What are you saying?”
“The actual time of death could be a few hours earlier, or a little later, but I'm guessing it happened three hours before he was found.”
“Great. So we don't really know the exact time of death?”
“Unfortunately, that's correct.”
Hanging up the phone, Lou Murray shook his head. Rather than reducing the number of suspects in the case, the ME's call had made the list even larger.
CHAPTER 21
While Skye waited for me in her car, I stood on Poppy's stoop and rang his doorbell for the third time. His truck was parked under the carport, so I suspected he was home. The windows of the house were dirty, and I couldn't see inside. His grass needed mowing, and a huge fire ant mound spilled over onto his sidewalk.
The once colorful hibiscus border under his front windows showed little inclination toward blooming. The branches had turned knotty and wood-like. Paint was peeling off the molding around his windows.
“Is it possible his doorbell doesn't work?” Skye called to me from her driver's side window.
I pounded on the door. Finally, the deadbolt moved. My grandfather smiled at me.
“Been thinking about you,” he said.
“May I come in?” I shifted my purse and tightened my grip on my things.
“Sure.”
I waved goodbye to Skye and watched as she carefully backed her black Mustang into the street. I had her cell number in my phone. If Poppy didn't want me, or if he threw me out, I could call her.
To my relief, his face brightened as he motioned for me to follow him inside. But as I stepped over the threshold, I thought I'd be sick. The house smelled of dirty hair, unwashed clothes, and rotting food. As bad as Dick's Gas E Bait had been, the mess in my grandfather's home was even worse. When I followed him into his family room, I noticed plates of dried food on end tables. Every surface was covered with newspapers, magazines, clothes, and food wrappers.
I swallowed down my revulsion and thought about my conversation with Skye. Hadn't I told her that I liked to clean house when I was upset?
Yes, I had.
Well, here was my opportunity. I could start with the Gas E Bait and then tackle this pigsty. Me and my big mouth.
“Did you hear that Hal Humberger died?” I asked.
I waited for Poppy's reaction with my heart in my throat. Was it possible that my grandfather had gone from being angry with me to being angry with Mr. Humberger? Had an argument between them escalated into a murder?
“What?” He cupped his ear.
“Hal Humberger is dead.”
Poppy literally reeled in shock, falling backwards into his favorite recliner.
“You okay?” I ran to his side.
“When?” He stared at me.
“Last night.”
“Heart attack?” asked my grandfather. “He was young for one, but he ate like a pig at a trough. Philomena was on him all the time to lose some weight.”
“No.”
“Not a heart attack? Car accident?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“The police think he was murdered. In fact, I found the body.”
“You what?” Poppy's face turned pale.
“Found the body. After you left, I ate my dinner. Took a while because Pumpernickel's was busy. Took a while for the check, too. Then I figured I'd sleep at Essie's, because that was the only place I could think of to go.”
“I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, and I plumb forgot you didn't have a car. You shoulda called me.”
“My cell phone was dead,” I explained. “I had Tommy's sleeping bag in my trunk, so I thought I'd just roll it out and sleep on the floor of The Treasure Chest.”
“You had keys to that place? I figured you'd called a cab and gone and found yourself a hotel. Thought you decided to teach me a lesson.”
“Mr. Humberger had given me the keys, but I didn't even need them. The door was unlocked. When I went in, I tripped over him. His body.”
“That must have put a scare into you, girl.” Poppy shook his head. “Your daddy would punch me square in the nose, for putting you in a situation like that. What'd you do after you found him?”
I explained about running and fetching Skye, about her calling the police, and about my interview with Detective Lou Murray last night and again this morning.
“You shouldn't have said a thing.”
“I know, I know! I was tired and not thinking straight.” I reached up and rubbed my temples. “Thank goodness Skye offered me a place to stay. She even fed me breakfast. Poppy, have you eaten today? No? How about if I spring for lunch? Afterwards, maybe you could drop me off at Hal Humberger's real estate office.”
“You still planning on keeping that dump of a building?” This time there was a twinkle in his eye as he stood up and searched his pockets for his keys.
“Maybe. Haven't decided yet.”
“After we eat, you can drop me off at work and take my truck,” he said. “I can tell you where Humberger Real Estate is.”
His Toyota truck was tidier than the house but not by much. I scooped a pile of fast food paper bags onto the floor to clear the passenger's seat. For a neatnik like me, this sort of mess was torture.
Fingers crossed, Black Beauty would be up and running soon.
“How many people work at the Humberger Real Estate Agency?”
We’d stopped moving when we got to the corner of Cove Road and Dixie Highway. Some genius had installed a totally confusing round-about. You couldn’t even see where the other cars entered the traffic circle, so you had to sit for several turns. The result was a totally confusing obstacle that brought traffic to a standstill. Maybe that was the point.
Poppy pursed his lips and thought a minute. “Let's see. There's Hal. His wife Philomena. The secretary, LaDonna. A couple of part-time agents, I think. Might be someone there today who can talk to you about that contract. On the other hand, maybe not. Could go either way.”
Drat. I was well and truly stuck here in Stuart.
CHAPTER 22
Poppy suggested that we eat at a little café close to his house. I was still embarrassed about our scene at Pumpernickel's, so I agreed to try a new spot with him, even though the place didn’t look promising.
The coffee wasn't great, but it was passable after I dosed it liberally with milk and sugar. When the barely edible food came, I found myself missing my family's restaurant. I choked up thinking about Mom, Dad, and me, and all the good times we'd shared. Fortunately, Poppy didn't notice how emotional I was getting. He turned all his attention to pouring more ketchup on his fries.
“It looks like your house could use a good cleaning,” I said when I got my feelings in check.
“It's getting harder and harder to keep up with everything,” said Poppy. “Of course, all that I own will be yours someday. Including the gas station. Although now that you've got Essie's building, you don't need two teardowns.”
“The Treasure Chest isn't a teardown,” I said.
“Huh,” he said through a mouthful of food.
In my heart, I'm
a bit of a green crusader. If you have a sound reason for the demolition, that's one thing, but to tear down an existing building for the sake of tearing it down, is wasteful and bad for the environment. In addition to the dust, noise, and disruption, there are unseen hazards exposed. All those broken bricks, crumpled concrete blocks, ducts, wires and bits of insulation wind up in landfills. Asbestos and lead paint pose yet another set of problems.
“It's probably time for me to retire,” he added.
“Oh, no, you don't. You aren't retiring yet,” I said.
His grin was sheepish. “You worried I'll pick up golf and wear pink shorts?”
I laughed. “No. But I believe work is good for the soul. Having a routine and a reason to get up in the morning is important. Besides, you've been telling me about all these cars you're fixing. Sounds to me like you have a going concern. No way that I'm going to support you in your old age.”
That got a laugh from Poppy. “Even if I worked around the clock, I couldn't afford membership in one of them fancy country clubs anyway. Can't imagine myself chasing a little white ball around with a stick and paying for the privilege. You're probably right. Retiring would be the death of me.”
“I understand. I like feeling useful, too,” I said, as I took a bite of my turkey sandwich. The meat was dry and the bread nearly stale. I missed Pumpernickel's.
“Where'd you end up staying?” Poppy asked, as he finished his fries. He’d already forgotten what I’d told him. This was not a good sign.
“At Skye's apartment. Her roommate was out of town.”
“She's a good girl.”
“She's been wonderful to me.”
After he paid for our food, I dropped Poppy off at his shop and drove to Humberger Real Estate, which wasn't hard to find. They'd rented a spot in a plaza off of Dixie Highway. Their front window told me everything I needed to know. A handwritten sign proclaimed, “CLOSED.”
My next stop was a Publix grocery store, where I loaded a cart with a new mop, cleaning supplies, plastic garbage bags, rags, paper towels, a thick pair of rubber gloves, and a filtered air mask. Both Poppy's shop and his home would need industrial strength products, the type of solutions that ate the skin right off your hands and curdled your lungs. I intended to protect myself from the hazards. I drove back to Dick's Gas E Bait and pretty soon, I was elbow deep in Poppy's stinky fish tank.
Messes like this were totally foreign to my nature. Beyond grossing me out, they made me nervous. But as I'd told Skye, I enjoyed cleaning and went at the job with gusto. While Poppy finished his work on Black Beauty, I scooped limp and decaying fish carcasses out of the water. Even though I tried to be careful, yucky fish parts got on me. Mucky water splashed on the floor. My mop only moved the big puddles around, spreading the goop farther and farther, as rivulets escaped and ran under Poppy's desk. There was only one way to tackle a problem like this.
I got down on my hands and knees.
Poppy stuck his head in the door and said, “They sent me the wrong part for your car. Took the old one out before I discovered the mistake. I'm going to drive to the auto supply shop over in Jupiter and grab the right one myself. I don't want you without wheels any longer than you have to be.”
“Okay,” I said, wishing I could leave, too. The dead fish had been double-bagged, so the smell was not as bad as before, but the water sloshed on the floor still stunk. So did I.
“Right,” and he was gone.
The mop proved almost useless at getting up all of the water. I found a couple of old rags in Poppy's pile of junk. With one in each hand, I crawled around on the floor and sopped up liquid. My butt was up in the air and both hands were covered in goop, when the last person in the world that I wanted to see, walked through the door.
CHAPTER 23
“Cara?” His voice had deepened over the years, but even with my back to him, I knew it was Cooper Rivers.
I rocked back onto my feet, but I couldn't turn around. Suddenly I was fifteen again and hopelessly in love. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Instead I stayed perfectly still, my lower lip trembling. A wild fury of emotions hit me so hard I thought I'd die on the spot.
“Go away,” I said.
I should have figured he'd come looking for me. After all, I'd stolen his precious building.
Of course, Cooper knew where to find me. He'd grown up in Stuart. The Gas E Bait was a local landmark.
I should have been prepared for his visit.
But I wasn't.
“Cara Mia. It's been a long, long time, hasn't it?”
“Go away,” I said again.
Over the sound of my heart beating, I heard him come closer.
“Cara?” It was a plea.
“No,” I responded with cowardice.
Neither of us knew how to move forward. The momentum we'd had years ago was lost to us. The pain was fresh. In my awkward position, my toes complained about my pose. Pretty soon I would have to move, but I couldn't bring myself to get up and turn around. What if he wasn't really there? What if I had imagined Cooper's presence?
“Please, please, go away,” I whispered.
“Why?” He sounded genuinely curious.
“You lied. You told me you loved me. But you let me disappear. You never even wrote to me!”
“I did, too!” In a flash, he was next to me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him, but I still couldn't bring myself to face him. His tug on my arm was gentle but insistent.
I couldn't turn around. I just couldn't!
“Cara? Please?” He slowly turned me toward him. I dropped my gaze to the floor, hoping to postpone the moment. When I couldn't keep my balance any longer, I sank back onto my butt. It was a movement that should have pulled me out of his grasp. Instead, he gathered me to his chest and lifted us both to our feet.
Holding me in one arm, he used his free hand to lift my chin with his index finger. I kept my eyes downcast until the last possible moment, and then I gave in. I looked at him.
The boy had grown into a gorgeous man, just as everyone had predicted he would. Oh, he was older. His face was more lean and mature. His jet black hair was sprinkled with strands of gray. But those fabulous cheekbones that betrayed his Native American heritage were still as sharp as ax blades. In his amber colored eyes, I saw a mixture of wonder and humor.
“Cooper,” I said.
As always, he smelled like the sun and the sea, a mix both exotic and outdoorsy. I could see the shape of his rock-hard pec muscles through the yellow knit shirt. He still favored simple khaki pants and topsider shoes without socks. In many ways, as we looked each other over, it seemed to me that he hadn't changed at all, except to get better looking with the years.
“Cooper.” I put my arms around his neck and hugged him. We were sixteen and eighteen again. Young lovers amazed by the passion we'd discovered. Even though two decades had passed, the fit of our bodies seemed exactly right. I felt the tension drain from me as a delicious sense of homecoming took its place. I pressed close to him.
“I wrote you every day,” he whispered to my hair. “For a year and a half. You never responded. I called your house only to be told your home phone number had been changed. I did everything I could. I was frantic. Finally, your parents complained to the authorities that I was harassing you. That really put a scare into Ma. She begged me to leave you alone. I threw in the towel, Cara. I dropped out of college and joined the Navy. I wanted to get as far away as possible.”
“I never knew!” I felt hot and cold. Angry and confused. How could my mother have done this to me? It had to have been her doing. She didn't approve of Cooper. Her prejudices against Native Americans ran too deep.
“I wrote to you!” I said.
“Did you mail the letters yourself?” he asked.
I paused. “No.”
“Your mother,” he said, with a growl.
My mother, the all-powerful and all-knowing, had objected to my involvement with “that Indian boy.” I could imagine how it
happened. Over time, she had managed to wear down my father's objections. One morning without warning, they'd hustled me into the car, for what I'd thought was a shopping trip to Orlando.
She'd thought of everything, my canny mother did. She'd fed me a mug of hot chocolate with a sedative in it. I didn't wake up until Georgia. By then, I was groggy and confused.
Mom had meant to save me from myself, but instead she'd ruined my life, or so I had decided—and I'd never forgiven her for it, not even as she lay dying.
We might have stood there longer, but Cooper finally said, “Cara, may I ask you a question?”
I looked up into those beautiful eyes and nodded.
“Why do you smell like dead fish?”
CHAPTER 24
I burst out laughing. “I've been cleaning Poppy's bait tank. The air pump went out. You should have smelled it before I dumped the floaters.”
“Ugh. Let's step outside.”
My odorific self was not as powerful in the open air as it had been in the confined space of my grandfather's gas station. Despite how badly I stunk, and how dirty I was, the world looked pretty terrific to me. Even the stained and frayed silk flowers in the pots beside the front door seemed impossibly cheery. Cooper and I leaned against the glass display window, our shoulders touching in perfect symmetry.
“I heard you pulled a fast one on my real estate agent,” he said, as he took my hand.
“Yeah.”
“He's dead.”
“I know. I was the one who found his body.”
“I heard. That must have been a shock. You okay?” He put a hand on my arm, lightly.
“I guess. It wasn't a highlight of my life, that's for sure.”
“I can imagine. Why'd you let Hal think that you represented me? I don't remember you being quite so sneaky.”
He didn't sound angry, only slightly irritated. Somehow his casual attitude rubbed me wrong. “Me? Sneaky? You're the one who wanted to run my grandfather out of business.”
Those amber eyes turned a cool shade of yellow. “You've got it wrong.”
Second Chance at Love Page 8
