Daiquiri Dock Murder

by Dorothy Francis

  Silence. Not even a mosquito hummed in my ear. No dove mourned.

  “Threnody?” Again, I whispered her name. Running to my car, I jerked on the driver’s side door. Although I’d just locked it from upstairs, the door opened and the dome light flashed on. Glancing into the back seat, I stifled a scream.

  Chapter 36

  “Threnody!” Forgetting any need for silence, I shrieked her name, then clamped my jaws, gritted my teeth, squelched screams.

  Threnody lay face down with her head on an old pillow I’d thrown into the back seat that morning before going fishing. For a few crazy moments, I thought she might be sleeping in my car. Wishful thinking!

  Her long satin gown clung to her upper body wrinkled and twisted, revealing skin from buttocks to ankles. The slipper from her left foot had dropped onto the floor of the car. The right slipper remained in place. Her long hair lay splayed over the pillow and onto the car seat. At first I didn’t notice the length of blue line double-wrapped around her throat.

  Pulled tight.

  Knotted.

  Tail ends falling down her back, peeking from under her hair.

  I wiped away tears although I hadn’t realized I was crying.

  Blue line. I couldn’t see her face, nor did I want to. Like Kane, I’d watched too many Law and Order reruns. I wanted to remember Threnody as she looked earlier tonight at The Frangi.

  My squelched screams gave way to a more urgent need to vomit. I choked back the bitter gorge rising in my throat. Heat flooded my face at the same time my fingers and toes grew icy cold. I wanted to back away, to retreat from the scene, but I couldn’t force my feet into action. Vomit flooded the carpet of my car, then trailed in yellow/brown strings to the seat cover. I wiped my chin on the tail of my night shirt.

  In my heart I knew Threnody lay dead, yet she might be alive. I remembered thinking the same thing about Diego a few days ago. He might have been alive. Since Diego’s death, Threnody and I enjoyed strong bonds of friendship. I had to make sure there was nothing I could do to help her. Maybe I could loosen the garrote around her neck. Why had she come to my car? Who had done this to her? Who had left her like this?

  Once reality began to pierce my brain, near panic set in. Where was Threnody’s killer? Was I next on his list? In spite of my gut feeling, my gut desire to put distance between myself and Threnody, I eased onto the back seat beside her body, closed and locked the door and then leaned forward to push the button that would lock all the doors.

  “Threnody?” I spoke softly at first, as if I might wake her from needed sleep.

  No answer. In my heart I hadn’t expected a reply.

  “Threnody.” I spoke louder, waited a few seconds, and then in the next moment I shouted her name and shook her shoulder. “Threnody! Threnody! Speak to me.”

  Although I hadn’t touched my car key, the door locks clicked and someone opened the driver’s seat door. Who? At first I couldn’t tell. Friend? Foe? He wore jeans and a tank top, and he kept his face turned from me.

  “We’re going for a little ride, Rafa.”

  Pablo! When had he found my car key? When? How? Before he could start the engine, I opened the back door wide, stepped onto the ground and began to run. Where to go? I headed around the house. Maybe I could hide where he couldn’t find me. Hide where? At first I saw no place to hide. Then I spied a palm thicket at the side of the house and slipped under some low-hanging fronds. I sucked in air. Mentally, I ordered the palm fronds to silence and stillness. They obeyed. Only the whisper of a breeze caused a slight motion of the fronds.

  Safe! At least for a moment. But the respite lasted only a few scant seconds. Pablo rounded the corner of the mansion and headed my way. Forcing myself to hold my breath, my lungs felt close to exploding as I played statue and didn’t move an eyelash.

  Pablo passed my hiding place and kept jogging toward the front veranda. I couldn’t see him, and thinking he must have reached the porch, I slunk from behind the palm thicket. This time I stepped into the grass beside the path and padded toward the front lane, knowing he would hear my footsteps if I broke into a run. Walking gave me time to catch my breath. The stabbing pain in my side eased.

  Maybe I could make it down that long lane to the street. Maybe I could flag down a car once I reached the pavement. At this time of night? Forget that! I started running. It was my only chance.

  No! Not my only chance. Use your brain, woman! Call Kane on you cell. No. I’d left my phone upstairs in the house. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Again, my lungs felt on fire. I couldn’t get my breath. I felt as if someone had tired a rope just above my waist. I gasped for air and then sharp pain hit low in my left groin. Surely someone must be jabbing a knife above my crotch. Jabbing and twisting.

  I’d almost reached the street when I heard Pablo behind me. I hated giving in to him, but I saw no other choice. He threw himself at me, knocking me to the ground. Blood began to trickle down my leg again.

  “Stand up, Rafa! Stand!”

  “I can’t. I can’t.”

  “Stand. On your feet right now! Don’t scream!”

  I screamed.

  “I guess a few screams won’t make any difference. There’s nobody around to hear you.”

  Pablo linked his left arm through my right arm and yanked me close to his side. Turning us around, he forced me to walk with him back toward the car.

  Chapter 37

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Threnody. What have you done to her?”

  “You gone blind? I think you saw what I did to her.”

  “She’s dead.” I didn’t expect an argument. Pablo offered none. Had he gone mad? Was he bringing to life a scene predicted in the Tarot cards?

  “You’re not going to get away with this, Pablo. First Diego. Now Threnody.”

  “And next, you. And of course I’ll get away with it. I’ve made careful plans.”

  I had to keep him talking. “So you admit you killed Diego?”

  “Had to. Learned that he and two of his buddy commissioners planned to vote against building a hotel at the marina, and in this case they formed a majority.”

  “The gang of three?”

  Pablo gave a bitter laugh. “Gang of Three! That’s nothing but a political cliché. On any committee there’s usually a majority. Could be a gang of five, seven, nine.”

  “You were sure that’s how they planned to vote?”

  “At the time I felt sure of it. I wanted to see that hotel built.”

  “Wanted it enough to murder your own father?”

  “We had our differences—money differences.”

  “What difference would the hotel have meant to you, with your dad dead?”

  “I planned to let Brick build the hotel and insist that he appoint me as manager.”

  “Fat chance of that happening. Jessie’s the one who’ll get that job.” Pablo was out of his mind, but I had to keep our conversation going.

  “Who’s to say? It’s too late now for Dad’s vote to count. The other two commissioners will vote in any way that’s politically convenient for them at the moment. Without Dad’s leadership and influence, I doubt they can pull enough strings to get the hotel vote to go his way when the matter comes up before the commissioners again.”

  “So what’s the point in these needless murders?” I yanked on my arm to see if he’d tighten his grip. He did.

  “The point is that I plan to run for Dad’s place on the board of commissioners. I think people will vote for me. Son of the victim. I’ll work on a tear-jerker act. Many people will feel it their duty to show their respect for Dad by voting for his son. And once I’m on the commission, I’ll have influence on the ROGO.”

  “That’s really looking into a cloudy future.”

  “I can countermand everything anyone else says, Rafa. Believe me. It’s true. Right now Key West voters are in a building mood. They want to see Key West grow because they know that’s the
only way their incomes will grow. They want more cruise ships to visit our harbor. They want more tee shirt shops on Duval. They want more hotel rooms for an influx of tourists. I may have been a beach bum in the past, but I’m proud now to be able to be a part of the New Key West.”

  “I can’t believe Key West’s that full of Bubba politics.”

  “Sometimes Bubba politics are the best kind for everyone concerned. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch your back.”

  “The thought of you scratching my back makes me want to puke.” I choked on the bitterness at the base of my tongue and tried to swallow the tightness in my throat.

  “Go ahead and puke—if you want that to be one of the few things you’ll get to do before you join Dad and Threnody.”

  “You can’t get away with this, Pablo. Everyone at The Frangi knows I planned to spend the night with Threnody. When they come here looking for me, they can see for themselves what has happened.”

  We had reached the back porch and my chances of escaping diminished. I had decided to make a run for it—a run for escape. I’d rather be a dead fugitive than Pablo’s dead captive. In a sudden move, I yanked my arm free from Pablo’s grip and turned to give him a shove. I hoped to throw him off balance. I knew he could outrun me in a foot race unless I had a head start.

  In that instant a shot rang out and Pablo dropped to the ground. I thought for an instant that I’d been hit. But no.

  Who? What? Maybe Kane had sensed my need for help and come to investigate.

  I ran. If Kane hadn’t shot Pablo, I had some other enemy. Or had Pablo been my dead-line caller? Had I tripped over his foot last night at The Frangi? I couldn’t remember where Pablo had been at the time I fell.

  I could only concentrate on escaping. That bit of concentration wasn’t enough. All hope dropped to my toes when I heard Brick’s voice and felt him grab the arm I’d just freed from Pablo’s grip.

  “We meet again, Rafa.”

  Seeing my fishing rod leaning against the porch railing, I decided to make one last try for freedom before Brick had time to make a full assessment of our positions. I jerked my arm from his, at the same time placing one foot behind his ankles and giving him a strong shove backward. He lost his balance and I heard him fall and flounder on the ground behind me.

  In those moments, I grabbed my fishing rod and ran, putting as much distance between us as I could. The moment Brick regained his balance and came rushing toward me, I took aim and, with the weighted lure hanging from the tip of my rod, I cast it, aiming for his head. I heard the thud of lead connecting with flesh and bone, but he didn’t go down. Panicked, I ran again. Again, he caught me, pulled me close, and twisted my arm. The smell of rum on his breath turned my stomach.

  “You make me sick, Brick Vexton. Sick. Sick. Sick.” I tried to loosen his grip. No way.

  “Oh come now, Rafa.” He laughed. “You’ve forgotten the times I made you happy. Very, very happy.”

  I couldn’t be sure if his eyes looked glazed or if the moonlight glinted on them in a way that gave them a glazed appearance.

  “You’re a fool, Brick. Kane’s right about you. You have an eye for the ladies. But I’ve never been one of your ladies. You may have noticed I’ve made it a point to keep plenty of distance between us.”

  Brick laughed. My voice snagged in my throat. I could think of no more insults. Some guys don’t know an insult when they hear one. Once more I jerked my arm free and began to run toward the street again. In two strides Brick caught up with me, yanking me to his side and bending my thumb back until I thought he’d break it. With his other hand, he pulled a pistol from the slash pocket of his jumpsuit. I felt doomed when he locked his arm more tightly through mine and dragged me toward my car.

  “Keep moving forward.” Brick punctuated his words with a nudge of the gun.

  I moved forward.

  Chapter 38

  If fear and excitement gives one an empowering adrenalin rush, I failed to feel it. I hardly possessed the strength to put one foot ahead of the other. Moving forward or backward wouldn’t have made any difference.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, hardly expecting an answer.

  “Thought we’d take a little drive, Rafa. You’re so fond of the Prius, I thought I’d give you the pleasure of one final ride in it. So prepare yourself to enjoy.”

  His speech sounded slurred as he nudged me toward my car. Again I smelled rum on his breath. How many daiquiris had he downed tonight? I wondered how he would manage taking me for a ride I didn’t want to go on. It turned out to be easy enough. He had it all planned. He opened the front passenger door and nudged me onto the seat.

  “Hold out your hands, Rafa.”

  The temptation to refuse and to look over the seat at Threnody’s body flashed through my mind. What if someone had discovered her while Pablo and I were playing chase-around-the-house for those few minutes? No such luck. Brick must have been the one who found her body.

  One last hope. No. No Kane. No tell-tale noise from a cop hiding behind us. I stopped hoping for a miracle. I didn’t look over the car seat. I did hold out my hands. Surely he planned to detain me with handcuffs.

  Brick hesitated a bit when I thrust my wrists toward him, and I tried to plan how I could escape when he laid his gun aside in order to fasten the cuffs. But he didn’t lay the gun aside. While taking careful aim at me with the gun in his right hand, he reached into another pocket of his dock master uniform with his left hand. I heard the clink of steel against steel when he pulled out the handcuffs.

  “Where did you get those?” I asked, hoping the cuffs were toys. No. They were for real.

  “Found them in my bag of magic tricks, doll.” He clicked one bracelet around my right wrist. “Okay now. Arms behind your back. Don’t try any tricks. Lean toward the dashboard and do as I say.”

  I leaned forward and felt cold steel scrape my skin moments before I heard the other bracelet snap around my left wrist. I refused to give him the satisfaction of begging for mercy. I knew by now neither he nor Pablo knew the meaning of the word mercy. I said nothing. Maybe I could kick him while he drove us to his secret destination. But he squelched those plans in the next moment.

  “Okay, Rafa. Feet together. Ankles touching, please.”

  I followed instructions. It didn’t surprise me when he pulled a coil of blue line from the same pocket that moments ago held handcuffs. He bound my ankles together. Then he smashed me back against the car seat and fastened my seatbelt. Was he kidding! Why the sudden interest in my safety?

  “Mustn’t give the cops reason to pull us over, Rafa. Little traffic moving at this hour of the night. Bored policemen stop any car that looks the least bit suspicious to them. I’ve heard they get a bonus for any arrests they make between midnight and sunrise, so I’m making sure this car won’t catch any cop’s eye.” He straightened himself behind the steering wheel, pausing a moment to wipe sweat from his forehead with his left arm before he fastened his own seat belt. Breathing deeply for a few seconds, he wiped his forehead again before he hit the accelerator and we shot forward. Had my fishing lure hurt him, or had he enjoyed too many daiquiris?

  “Where we going?” I tried to get back into my keep-him-talking mode, but having my hands and feet immobilized slowed my thought processes. So did having two captors in the same evening. I decided to say no more and wait to see what happened next. Maybe my silence would unnerve him, make him wonder what I was thinking—and planning.

  He scooped the loop around Duval Street and Whitehead. We passed Southernmost point. The presidential gate. Sloppy Joe’s. Margaritaville. When a street light shone directly on his face, I thought again that his eyes looked glazed and glassy.

  “Got a headache? That fishing lure gave you quite a whack.”

  “Hardly felt it, Rafa. Hardly f-felt it.”

  It pleased me to know I had hurt him—at least a little. Wish it had been a little more. Closed signs hung in the windows of the bars we passed. Sloppy’s. Marg
aritaville. Schooner Reef. Hog’s Breath. I guessed it might be about time for the early-morning garbage and trash trucks to take to the streets. Maybe I could signal someone. Those commercial truck seats rose above the seats of most cars. Maybe some truck driver would happen to look down into the Prius and see Threnody sprawled on the back seat or notice me mouthing the word ‘help.’

  I saw nobody out and about. Soon Brick chose a route that made our destination clear—Daiquiri Dock.

  “I gave my dock masters the morning off for today, Rafa. Need a little t-time and working s-space to get a few chores done. The police will arrive soon after that, and I want to practice my surprised look as I lead them to Threnody’s body. Surprised and horrified, of course.”

  “The husband’s always the first suspect. You should know that.”

  “Of course. I’ve prepared for that. This time you’re going to be the chief suspect.”

  “Don’t know how you’ll manage that.” I hoped that comment would make him want to explain. Once I knew his plans, maybe I could figure out a way to escape and thwart them.

  Brick made no explanations. He pulled his cell phone from the shirt pocket of his jumpsuit as if he might make a call. Then he dropped it back into his pocket. Too early to talk to anyone? I wondered who he wanted to call.

  Chapter 39

  I’d never patronized any marina in the wee hours of the morning, but I expected to see a few security lights here and there. In fact, I expected to see several lights illuminating each catwalk, lights that kept the moored boats visible at all times. Tonight only the moon brightened the night, and as we approached the chandlery, clouds threaded across the sky and the moon. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. The frequent changes in visibility left me dizzy and off balance even though I sat securely fastened under the seatbelt.

  My car was the only one approaching the parking lot. At first I took that as a hopeful sign. Maybe some cop patrolling his beat would notice the Prius and stop to investigate. It surprised me when Brick drove around the chandlery building and headed into a mangrove thicket. I heard branches in the dense grove of trees scrape against the sides of the car. I could hardly breathe, but I gasped for air and tried to distract him.