Killer Tied

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Killer Tied Page 5

by Lesley A. Diehl


  It was Eleanor. Oh, hell.

  Grandy held on to her composure, and so did I. Eleanor believed what she had been told, and I could understand that. Regardless of who her mother was, she was almost hysterical over her disappearance. We walked her into the office, and Madeleine nodded her head toward the door to signal she’d leave us alone, but I shook my head.

  Eleanor repeated her story again for us. Grandy was silent after Eleanor finished telling her tale.

  “Have you located your father yet?” I asked, and told her he had visited the police headquarters and talked with Frida. “He left a cell number with Frida. I was going to call it, but haven’t yet. Why don’t you give him a call?”

  “I’ve never known him to have a cellphone. He must have purchased it recently.”

  I gave her the cell number, and she tried to connect, but shook her head. “It goes to voicemail. Where is he?”

  Well, this is what detective work was all about. “I’ll check the motels and hotels around here. You can help, Eleanor.” I handed her the phone book.

  I let her use the desk in the office to make her calls. Grandy, Madeleine, and I conferred out of her hearing at the counter of the shop.

  “This is pretty crazy, but I’m going to be doing detective work on my own case. I’ve got to find out why these people think my dead mother and father are alive and part of their lives.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” Madeleine said.

  “What? Aside from the obvious. I need to find Eleanor’s father and question him. And maybe I’ll have to take a trip to New York and interview the people in that town where Eleanor was raised.”

  “You could do a DNA test. You and Eleanor,” said Madeleine.

  Brilliant. Maybe Madeleine should be the PI.

  Friday night and Saturday passed without incident. On Saturday Grandy accompanied me in the RV to the coast. En route, I worked up the courage to tell Grandy I had settled Eleanor in one of Nappi’s rentals. Her response was to shake her head and stare out the RV’s passenger-side window. While we greeted customers at the coast flea market, Madeleine took the hunting ranch’s truck, accompanied by David and the twins, and picked up furniture from the West Palm area. Jerry handled the shop. I expected the boys back sometime Sunday afternoon, but the phone rang Saturday evening as Sammy, Grandfather, Grandy, Max, and I were eating a meal of frog legs and bass at Grandfather’s house.

  Frida was on the other end of the line. “I don’t want you to get upset, Eve, but I’m out here in the swamps near the fishing pier. Your sons found a body while camping.”

  Chapter 6

  I ran out the door and toward the airboat landing. Sammy was close on my heels, followed by the others. I heard the sound of a boat motor before I saw the craft emerge from the mist rising off the canal waters. Our sons were huddled in the rear, wrapped in blankets. There was no sign of Sammy’s father, only Frida and two uniformed police officers.

  The boys ran into Sammy’s arms. We hugged them to us. I could feel my youngest trembling. The other two, however, tried to act as if they could handle the situation. They couldn’t. I could read panic in their eyes. Even the oldest seemed to have difficulty maintaining a brave face.

  “Where’s my father?” asked Sammy. I was glad he was the one to ask the question, because it was the next thing on my mind. Someone was dead, and that was a tragedy, but Mr. Egret was responsible for the safety of my sons, and he seemed to have abandoned that job.

  “We don’t know,” said Frida. “We got a call at the station about an hour ago. It came from a cell number. The caller was male. He told us there was a dead body near the fishing pier down from the boat launch into the river. That’s all he said. When we got there, we found the body and your boys, but no Mr. Egret. They were pretty shook up, so I held off questioning them in any detail. I thought they needed their parents. I can talk with them later, tomorrow maybe.”

  “My father doesn’t have a cellphone. He couldn’t have made that call,” Sammy said.

  “But he did call,” said Jason, my oldest son.

  “Let’s get the boys into the house,” I said, “then we can sort this out.”

  “I left an officer on duty out there, but I’ve got to get back to meet the crime scene team,” Frida said.

  I steered her away from the others. “Do you know who it is? It’s not Mr. Egret, if he called it in. But whose cellphone did he use?”

  “I’ve got no identity for the body, but I’m curious why Mr. Egret wasn’t there with your boys.” Frida leaped back into the boat and headed back down the canal.

  The boys were tired and scared. We hustled them into Grandfather Egret’s house and made hot chocolate for them. I didn’t want to press them with too many questions, but Frida’s concern about what had happened to their grandfather bothered me. I knew Sammy was keeping a lid on his feelings for the sake of the boys.

  Grandfather had said nothing since the boys arrived, but now he spoke, so softly I could barely hear him. “He’s gone. Again.”

  I turned on him, furious. “Is that what he does best? Disappears when there’s trouble? I wish he’d never come back here in the first place. Right now, I’m concerned how this will affect Sammy and the boys as well as you, Grandfather.”

  Sammy reached out and pulled me to him. “You’re scaring the boys, and they’ve already had a difficult evening.”

  I pulled back, knowing Sammy was right. I was lashing out at the wrong party. “I’m sorry, Grandfather. I know it’s not your fault, but I’m so angry he didn’t take care of them.”

  “He did take good care of us,” insisted Jason. “He taught us how to find the best wood for a fire and how to catch frogs. He warned us to be careful near the canal because of the alligators. When Jeremy went off to play and was gone for so long, he found him and brought him back to our campsite. Then he told us to wait by the fire to keep warm and safe. He told me to take care of my bothers. That we would be just fine.”

  “That’s all?” I asked. “Did you see the man who was, uhm …?”

  “The dead guy? Nope,” said Jason. “We did what we were told. We sat by the fire and waited, although ….”

  “Although what?” asked Sammy.

  “Nothing. It was a little scary, I guess. Are we gonna go to the police station now?”

  “Later,” said Sammy. “Right now I think all three of you should get some rest. Did the police let you take your sleeping bags with you?”

  The boys nodded and trooped off to the bedroom. Sammy and I followed and tucked them into their sleeping bags with a hug and kiss for each of them.

  Grandfather Egret sat in front of the fireplace, puffing on his pipe. The smoke swirled around his head, a metaphor for the churning confusion in my brain. My anger at Sammy’s father still lingered, ameliorated somewhat by my relief that the boys were safe.

  “There’s a good explanation for why he left the boys there,” said Sammy, joining Grandfather and me in front of the fire.

  “Really? What would that be?” I asked. Despite my attempt to contain my rage, the words sounded shaky. I was acting like an enraged mother protecting her cubs.

  “I don’t know, but I’d guess that your friend Frida has already developed a theory about the situation.”

  I caught the undertone of anger in his voice. “You think because she’s a cop and he’s Miccosukee that she thinks he’s responsible for the body. We don’t even know if foul play was involved. Maybe he just drowned or was attacked by an animal.”

  “Because he was going for a stroll out in the swamps? Don’t be silly.” Sammy picked up the fireplace poker and stirred the embers, then slammed it back into its holder.

  “What do you think, Grandfather?” I asked.

  He stood and removed his pipe from his mouth, then tapped it against the brick floor in front of the fireplace. “There are winds blowing out of the north, cold winds. I’m glad the boys didn’t spend tonight in the swamps. A storm is brewing.”

  I looked i
nto his face, lit by the firelight. I’d never seen him look so tired, so defeated, so without hope. His emotional state was far from being about the weather. There was something disturbing about this situation that I sensed too.

  “We’re all tired and should sleep,” Grandfather said. “What are you going to do about the boys? Leave them here with me for the night, or do you want to take them home to Eve’s house?”

  “I don’t think they should be awakened,” Sammy said. “I’ll sleep on the floor beside them. I’ve got an old sleeping bag around here someplace. Eve, you can take the single bed in the room.”

  No more was said about Sammy’s father, the dead body, and the boys’ frightening experience that night, but I might as well have been lying on a cold, stone floor, for all the sleep I managed.

  I got up at first light and found Grandfather already awake, making coffee. The boys awoke soon after and came out of the bedroom, followed by Sammy. No one said much as they ate the oatmeal Grandfather prepared for them. I decided not to drive the rig to the coast today, even though it was one of our coast flea market days. I wanted to be close for the boys.

  The phone rang as we were finishing breakfast. It was Frida.

  “No sign of Mr. Egret?” she asked.

  “None.”

  “Does Grandfather or Sammy have any idea where he might have gone or why?”

  “Ask them.” I handed the phone to Sammy. He had the right to put his own spin on his father’s disappearance, although I might not agree with him. Sammy talked with her for a few minutes. He indicated that he thought his father might have gone off into the swamps for good reasons, although he couldn’t say what they might have been. He didn’t mention his suspicion that because he was Miccosukee, he might have feared the authorities would view him as a suspect in the death.

  “Okay,” he said, ending the conversation. Turning to me, he added, “Do you think we can bring the boys into police headquarters today? Frida would like to talk with them some more.”

  The boys couldn’t hide their excitement over being interviewed at the police station. For them, the fear of last night had passed, and now they were only looking forward to taking part in a criminal investigation, like “Detective Mommy.”

  I groaned at their description. I wanted them as far as possible from any criminal matters I might be involved in.

  In Frida’s office, Sammy and I listened as she ran through questions about last night’s events. The boys told their stories again, all identical to what they had told us last night.

  As we left, Frida pulled me aside. “Would you do me a favor, Eve? We’re doing the autopsy on the body today, but we still don’t have an ID.”

  “How can I help?”

  “The light was bad last night, so I couldn’t be certain, but I thought I recognized the guy. I took another look this morning, and I believe he was the one who came into the station looking for his daughter. You saw him at the office. I thought you might be willing to take a peek at the body before I call the daughter in. If you think it’s her father, you could accompany her.”

  I was shocked. The man was dead? Out in the swamps? If it was him, his daughter would be shaken. To look for her parents and then find one was dead and the other had disappeared?

  Frida saw the expression on my face. “Here’s the worst part. It wasn’t accidental. He was stabbed with a big Bowie knife, like the one Mr. Egret wears in a scabbard on his belt.”

  And there it was. Sammy was correct. The authorities would suspect his father, and not without good reason.

  I swallowed hard. “I’ll come back in after I get the boys home and make them lunch. Sammy’s out at the airboat business today, but Grandy’s back now, so she can take care of them for the afternoon.”

  “I didn’t know Grandy was gone.”

  “Uh, yeah. She and Max had something they needed to do on the boat. It was just a quick overnight.” I wondered if Frida could tell I was sidestepping her comment about Grandy.

  “Good. And Eve …?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t say anything about the manner of death to Sammy. Let’s keep that between us for the time being. Okay?”

  Smart gal. She knew Sammy would be furious at the police for suspecting his father. She was buying herself some time and space before she went public with her case.

  “When do you want me to take a look at the body?”

  “How about now? Maybe Sammy can take the kids home, and I can give you a ride when we’re done here.”

  I let Sammy know Frida needed my help and why, then followed her down the hallway into the morgue. It took only a glance for me to recognize the man as Eleanor’s father.

  “It would make more sense for you to call Eleanor. You know her. You may be related to her,” said Frida, then caught what she had said. “Sorry. We don’t know that, do we?”

  “No, and why should I make the call? Isn’t that police business?” I knew I was being difficult because I hated Frida’s comment about Eleanor and me.

  “Think about it, Eve. She’s alone here and searching for her parents. She thinks they are in danger from someone, and that’s why her mother left home to begin with. And ….”

  “Right, right. You’re right.” I used my cell to contact her, and Jerry answered. I was not surprised that he was giving her his full attention. Well, then. How fortunate is this? I wouldn’t have to break the news to her. He could tell her. And yes, I was being a coward.

  Jerry didn’t want the job either. “I can’t tell her that. That’s awful. Besides, she’s still asleep.”

  “Were you there all night?”

  There was a moment’s silence.

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Jerry, she’s a vulnerable young woman. You need to be careful how you treat her. Did you sleep with her?”

  Again, there was a moment’s silence.

  “What do you mean by ‘sleep’?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Just wake her up and get her dressed and down here as soon as you can. I’ll be waiting.”

  Frida had listened to the conversation. “What made you think Jerry would make a good babysitter for Eleanor?”

  “Lack of good sense on my part?” I ventured.

  Eleanor identified the body as that of her father, then broke down in Jerry’s arms. He drove her back to her place after receiving a warning from me to “keep your testosterone-laden paws off her.” He shot me a hurt look.

  This awful day had started with my sons’ appearance at police headquarters after their camping trip ended with the identification of a dead body. This was not the way I wanted my Sunday to go in any case, but it was about to get worse—much worse. Frida dropped me off at my house as she’d promised. I hoped Sammy and I could rescue the remainder of the day by taking the boys to a matinee, although it appeared that we were more in need of distraction than the kids were. They seemed like their usual selves, just excited about going to a movie.

  “Can we have large popcorns, not those small bags?” begged Jerome. “We’re finished with the little ones before the movie even comes on.”

  As we were about to leave, the phone rang. It was Frida, and she wanted to talk with Sammy. Judging by her tone, she wasn’t eager for the conversation. She added, “It’s police business.”

  Sammy listened for a few minutes. I watched the muscle in his jaw begin to twitch and knew something bad had happened. He slammed the receiver into the base. “I’ve got to go down to the station.”

  “They found your father? Is he all right?”

  “Frida wants me to look at the knife that has been identified as the murder weapon. She thinks it’s my father’s.”

  “I’ll come with you. Grandy and Max can take the boys to the movies.”

  “No. You take them. They need their mother, whether they know it or not.”

  He was right. The boys’ lives had been hard, enough so that they’d learned it was best to put a good face on things. They were doing that now, and I had misse
d it.

  I kissed him goodbye. He didn’t lean into my embrace as he usually did. I knew he was both angry and afraid. His people hadn’t been treated well by white authorities in the past. I just hoped he didn’t see me as being in league with those white people who saw only an Indian in front of them. He had to know I didn’t feel that way, didn’t he?

  The boys enjoyed the movie, and I fed them as much popcorn and soda as they could hold, even it meant upset stomachs tonight. My eldest turned to his brothers when he thought I wasn’t listening and said, “Wow, if this is what finding a dead body gets us, I want to do it more.”

  I gave him a gentle cuff on his arm to let him know I’d heard. “It’s not funny stuff, you know. It’s serious. That man was a friend’s father.”

  So was that what Eleanor was? A friend?

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I hugged him to me and saw his eyes were shiny with tears. I knew what I said reminded him of the loss of his own father and mother. “It’s okay. Sammy and I are here for you, and we always will be.”

  Could I make that promise to my sons and keep it? I was certain my parents would have made the same promise to me if they could, but they were taken by the sea. I knew they were gone, yet some tiny piece of me wanted Eleanor’s story to be true, even if it meant my parents weren’t who I thought they were. Eleanor had given me hope they were still alive. I’d deal with the consequences of that somehow. I shook off the thought. Maybe I could sort out having my parents alive, but what role could Grandy have played in all this? No. No. I had to believe they had died as she said—at sea, years ago, in a boating accident.

  The sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive interrupted my thoughts. It was Sammy back from police headquarters. I looked at my watch. He’d been gone all afternoon and most of the evening. The boys were in their room, and Grandy and Max, leaving the house to us, had gone out to eat.

  I tried to judge his mood as he came through the door. He tossed his keys onto the table and stuck his head in the refrigerator, his face hidden. I knew better than to inundate him with questions.

 

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