Killer Tied

by Lesley A. Diehl

  When he arrived, we sat in my backyard and I caught him up on the evening’s events. He said nothing when I was finished, but put his arms around me and squeezed me close. Then he kissed my hair and gazed into my eyes.

  “We should tell the boys,” he said, moving his hand to my stomach and touching it gently, “before you leave for Connecticut.”

  “Will they be happy, do you think?” I asked.

  “They will.”

  “Sammy!” I said. “I haven’t told Grandfather. Have you? Everything has happened so fast around here that—”

  “He knows.”

  Of course he knew. He’d also know whether it would be a girl or a boy. I could save the expense of an ultrasound and just ask him.

  Sammy chuckled.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Miccosukee medical technology,” he said.

  Now how did he know what I was thinking about Grandfather? I sighed. Would I be the only one in this family who didn’t have the ability to read thoughts? I felt a tiny tug in my belly. Was that a yes or a no?

  The next morning, Nappi and I talked over croissants and coffee, decaf for me, at my house.

  “What do you have up your sleeve?” asked Nappi.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, trying for a look of innocence, something I’m not much good at.

  “You’ve got that look in your eye, the one that says ‘don’t get in my way.’ ”

  “I’m going to visit Selma for another chat.”

  “She won’t be willing to talk to you, you know.”

  “I’m going to take a chapter from your book, Nappi, and try a little ‘family persuasion.’ ”

  His eyes widened in shock.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t intend to get physical. If this doesn’t work, I’ll turn her over to you.” I chuckled. “But it’s gonna work.”

  “I thought I’d visit a law firm in Hartford while you’re persuading Selma.”

  “Oh, come on. I want to go, too.”

  Nappi waggled a finger at me. “Private detectives have to know when to delegate, and you just delegated finding out about the law firm to me.”

  I agreed, but the issue bothered me the entire day while Grandy and I worked the shop.

  “I can hear your brain grumping about something, Eve.”

  “That’s my stomach growling.”

  “Don’t lie to me. You’re chewing on something. I want to know what it is.”

  “Delegating stuff. I hate to delegate, but Nappi says it’s something any good detective does.”

  “He’s right, and it’s kind of him to call it ‘delegating.’ You’re just so snoopy you can’t let go of anything. You think no one else can do it as well as you. You’re a control freak.”

  “A what?”

  “A control freak. Like me. Now what’s up?”

  I shared with her our run-in with Freddie, leaving out, of course, the incident of the hit-and-run and the break-ins so she wouldn’t worry or not worry as much.

  “I want to know the name of the family Freddie was working for, but Nappi insists upon visiting the law firm alone. I think he has some kind of a contact there.”

  “Let Nappi do his work and you do yours. I know you’re going to be looking into Brenda’s past, but I’m not certain how you intend to go about that.”

  “I’m going to pay Selma a visit.”

  “That will get you nowhere.”

  I smiled and shrugged. “You never know.” I hung a silver cocktail dress on the rack, considered it for myself, then decided there was no room in that dress for both me and the little one.

  Nappi and I were to leave for Connecticut the next morning. This evening Sammy and I chose to tell the boys about their new sibling. We were seated around the table at Grandfather’s, finishing our bowls of chicken stew. The boys were excited about the upcoming rodeo, and I was worried my trip would mean I couldn’t see them compete.

  “I’m going to try calf roping this year. My cousin Max has been teaching me, and he’s loaning me one of his horses,” said Jason, his smile wide with pride. “Of course,” he added, a serious look overtaking the smile, “I don’t expect to take first place. Next year.”

  The other boys pitched in excitedly with their stories of riding horses at their cousins’ and also taking part in the calf roping.

  “You guys don’t have a chance of even placing. You’ll be lucky to stay on your horses,” Jason announced in that way older brothers can … with an adolescent sense of know-it-all.

  At this jibe, the youngest burst into tears. Sammy reprimanded Jason for his unkind words and comforted the other boys by reminding them that participating was what this was all about. Not winning.

  “Who knows? You all might surprise yourselves and us,” Sammy added.

  “Speaking of surprises,” I piped up, grabbing hold of a good segue, “this family is going to have another member.”

  The three boys faces lit up and they looked at me. Jason asked, “Are we adopting another boy? I hope he’s as old as me so he can help take care of these two.” He gestured with his fork at his younger brothers.

  “No, we’re not adopting anyone. I’m going to have a baby.” I pointed at my stomach.

  The boys looked surprised, but smiled.

  “You’ll all get to look after the baby,” Sammy said.

  The smiles faded a bit, but returned as they agreed among themselves that it might be fun to have someone younger than any of them to boss around.

  “As long as it’s not a girl,” said Jason, making a face.

  “Yeah,” the others chimed in. “No girls allowed in this family.”

  “I’m a girl,” I pointed out to them.

  The boys considered this for a moment.

  “If she’s like you, then it’s okay,” he said. The others nodded their heads.

  After dinner, when the boys had snuggled into their sleeping bags in front of the fire in the main living space, Sammy, Grandfather, and I sat on the porch. Grandfather sat in his rocker puffing on his pipe while Sammy and I sat on the steps and gazed out over the canal to the dark swamp beyond.

  “No sign of your father?” I asked.

  “None,” said Sammy.

  Grandfather extracted the pipe from his mouth and said, “He’s out there. I can feel him. He’s waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?” I asked.

  “For you to solve the murder.” Grandfather tapped his pipe on the porch rail. “I’m going in.” He bent and touched my shoulder. “Don’t forget to wear the amulet I gave you when you go North tomorrow.”

  “I never go anywhere without it,” I assured him. “When you’re in there, tell the boys to quit talking and go to sleep. Tomorrow is a school day.”

  “I wish it weren’t so late. We could take a ride in the canoe and go to our place in the swamp,” Sammy said.

  I wondered if he was more interested in being alone with me or if he thought being out in the swamps would bring him closer to his father, but I said nothing.

  We sat for a while longer, listening to the music of the swamp, the croaking of frogs, the call of a bull alligator, and the soft walk of a shore bird through the reeds and cattails at the edge of the water.

  Sammy got up and held his hand out to me. “You’ve got a long journey ahead of you. You need the sleep. Both of you need the sleep,” he added.

  He was right. I should get to sleep, but I was disappointed that we couldn’t spend this night at our special swamp place. I took his hand and we went in.

  I awoke hours later, restless and wide awake. So much depended upon what I could find out up North, both the fate of Sammy’s father, the safety of Eleanor and her mother, and my own unfinished story. I got up, grabbed a sweater against the damp air, and went out to be by the water, to walk in the moonlight and think.

  As I stood at the canal’s edge, I heard a footfall behind me and turned, expecting that Sammy had also been wakeful and had joined me.

  Mr. Egret stood behi
nd me, unsmiling, a huge Bowie knife in a scabbard on his belt.

  “I thought …” I began, my mouth dry with fear.

  “You thought I left my knife in that man’s gut, didn’t you?”

  Chapter 15

  “I have more than one knife,” he explained, pointing to the Bowie.

  Why was I so afraid? I was only a scream away from the house. I couldn’t let him see my fear.

  “You know the police are looking for you,” I said, standing my ground, although I wanted to turn and run.

  He nodded.

  “I also know you didn’t kill that man, but you might know who did. You should give yourself up and tell the authorities what you know. It might help heal a lot of wounds from the past, mine included.”

  He was silent, then he held out his hand to me. “Come, I want to show you something.”

  A canoe was beached alongside the one Sammy and I used. This one was more crudely made, older. The wear on it indicated it had been used for many years. He gestured for me to get in.

  “This must be the canoe you used all those years you spent in the swamp. You left it there, hidden, as if you planned to return. Were you not planning to remain here with your family? Was this always your intention? To come back and tease them with your presence and then disappear again? I guess Mr. Montrose’s death gave you a good reason to go back into hiding.”

  I knew I was taunting him, perhaps an unwise move on my part. Maybe I did have the sight of Grandfather. I could read this man’s animosity toward me. The rage written in the lines on his face was revealed in the moonlight. He raised his arm, and I thought he would strike me, but instead he moved it toward the water, and again said, “Come.”

  Dared I go with him? Or would I be risking my life and that of my baby?

  He made a grunting sound and the sides of his mouth curved upward. Was that a smile of some sort?

  “I know of the baby. I would not hurt him.”

  “Well, now you’ve gone and spoiled it. We didn’t know it was a boy.”

  He gave another grunt, this one filled with satisfaction. “The Egrets always have boys.”

  “I respect your Indian ways, but could we dispense with the intrigue for a moment? Why do you want me to come with you? And where?”

  His whole person seemed to relax, and this time, he laughed out loud for just a moment. Then he looked back at the house as if worried he might wake someone.

  “You are as everyone described you. More than curious. Nosey. You took on this case to prove me innocent, and I know you do not like me. I, too, am curious. I wonder why you would do that.”

  “I’m not doing it for you, you selfish old man. I’m doing it for Grandfather, for Sammy, and for our children.”

  “For your child.”

  “No, for all our children.”

  “If Sammy knew I was here,” he said, “he would want me to do as you say: turn myself in. I have no intention of doing that. I will help you find what you’re looking for.” Again he held out his hand to me and gestured toward the canoe.

  What the hell. I believed he wouldn’t hurt Sammy’s child, and that meant I was safe. Maybe he could help.

  “Did you see who used your knife to kill Montrose?”

  Before he could answer, a sound erupted, followed by another. Bullets. Someone was shooting at us.

  Mr. Egret fastened his gaze on me. “You evil woman. You tried to trap me.” Without another word, he ran for the cover of the palms and disappeared.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” said a voice I recognized. It was Frida and she sounded angrier than I’d ever heard her.

  She and a tall, thin man stepped from behind the chickee hut. “You jerk, you total jerk.” She continued to spit words of derision toward the man at her side. “We want to take him into custody, not kill him.”

  “He’s an Indian, and he’s wanted for murder. What difference does it make whether we take him alive or not?”

  I stood frozen, staring at the palms into which Mr. Egret had run. I could not forget the look of black hatred on his face. He hadn’t liked me before this happened, and now he thought I had betrayed him.

  Frida continued to berate the man as they walked up to me.

  “You absolute idiot,” I said. “I almost had him convinced he should cooperate with authorities. Who the hell is this man anyway? And what are you doing here? Are you spying on my family?”

  “I’m sorry, Eve. We’re had Grandfather Egret’s house under surveillance since the murder. We thought his son might return here and I, er, my boss thought it might provide an opportunity to talk to him.”

  “You mean arrest him, don’t you?”

  The idiot who shot at my father-in-law found his tongue as well as his weapon. “I’m Reginald Butler. Miss Martinez is my partner.”

  Frida made a growling sound and poked her finger in his chest. “That’s Detective Martinez to you, buddy, and you are my partner—for now, at least. I hope you didn’t kill the man, and until we know for certain his fate, I need your weapon.” She held out her hand.

  “What the hell? No way. I’ll give it to the captain, but no way am I allowing some backwoods detective to disarm me. We need to pursue our suspect, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll get him.” Before she could stop him, Butler ran into the palm trees after Mr. Egret.

  “You know he doesn’t have any chance of finding him, don’t you?” I asked Frida.

  “Yeah, but the chase might settle him down a bit. That is, if he can find his way back here.” She stepped over to the spot where Egret had stood and shined her flashlight on the ground. “I don’t think he was hit. No blood. I’m not surprised. Butler is a notoriously bad shot at the range.”

  “What’s going on here?” called Sammy from the porch. “Eve? I thought I heard a shot. Are you all right?” Grandfather was silhouetted in the porch light behind Sammy.

  “It’s just Frida.”

  “Frida? What’s she doing out here at this time of night?” Sammy asked as he approached the two of us.

  “I was trying to talk with your father,” said Frida.

  “He was here?” Sammy said.

  “My partner drove him off.” Frida explained what had happened and assured Sammy that his father was not hit.

  Sammy shook his head in disbelief.

  “There won’t be another chance to talk with my father-in-law.”

  “Was he willing to cooperate?” Frida sounded surprised.

  “Well, kind of. He wanted me to come with him. He had something to show me. Now we’ll never know what he intended. Any trust he might have begun to develop in me is blown. Thanks a lot, Frida.”

  “I didn’t shoot at him.” There was a sharp edge to her voice.

  “It was your gun-happy partner, I know, but Mr. Egret isn’t stupid. Even if he hadn’t been shot at, he would know from your appearance that you’ve been sitting on the house.”

  “He’s our main suspect. It was his knife that killed Montrose, you know.”

  “Anyone could have used that knife. You said there were other prints on it.”

  “Oh right. There are hundreds of people wandering around in that swamp just looking for an opportunity to steal a knife and kill someone.”

  “Ladies,” interrupted Grandfather Egret, “you’re going to wake the boys with all your shouting. Angry will accomplish nothing. Where is your partner now?” he asked Frida.

  “Off somewhere.” Frida sounded discouraged. “Eve’s right. We messed up. I should go look for him. He’s a city boy. He’ll be running in circles by now if he hasn’t already been eaten by a gator.”

  “Leave him there then,” I suggested with only a hint of humor.

  “I’ll make some tea and we can wait until the sun comes up in an hour. There’s no sense in trying to find him in the dark.” Sammy put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me toward the house. No one mentioned going after Lionel Egret. We all knew we wouldn’t find him, even with the light of the comin
g day. The man was gone, perhaps this time for good.

  By now I was so tired, I took a few sips of tea and then excused myself and fell into bed. I was awakened later by the sounds of laughter coming from the other room. It was late morning, and I had slept through the boys getting up to go to school and another event I wished I hadn’t missed. At first light, Frida, accompanied by Grandfather Egret, set out to find Detective Butler. After several hours of searching, they found him tied to a palm tree with his handkerchief stuffed in his mouth. He was too terrified by having spent the night in the swamp to be anything other than grateful when Frida untied him. She took him back to the police car and left. According to Grandfather, he spoke not a word on the walk back. Grandfather was just relating the story to Sammy as I came into the room.

  “I guess Frida won’t have to talk to the captain about letting him go. I bet he resigned first thing this morning,” I said, pouring myself a coffee.

  I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to the boys, so Nappi and I rescheduled our departure for the next morning. Frida called me as I was finishing my orange juice and confirmed my speculation that Reginald Butler would no longer be one of Sabal Bay’s finest.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “I’m hoping Linc will hate life in the city and be eager to return here. As incentive, the captain is offering him a raise.”

  “What were you offered to stay?” I asked. “And to work short-handed until Linc returns or they find someone else?”

  She chuckled. “More of a raise.”

  “Good. I wonder, did Grandy’s sister and her husband pay you a visit yesterday?”

  “They stopped by, but I was called away on another case. I never got to talk to them. What’s up?”

  “A story you’re going to find interesting. It might put the Montrose murder in another light.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Nope. As Grandy has pointed out to me many times, some stories are not mine to tell. This one is Irene’s. I’m sure she’ll be very cooperative.”