Sara and I had spent much of our time sifting through the wreckage of the hotel looking for the family’s possessions and anything that could be salvaged if she were to rebuild. It was too dangerous for Melanee to be in there with us and after Jimmy Headley left for Atlanta, Rebecca came over most every day to help take care of her. Louise Palumbo was also being very helpful and looking after Melanee when needed.
The first morning we began the salvage we found the piano under a pile of debris, totally destroyed. I looked at the sad expression on Sara’s face and knew she was thinking about her daughter and how much she would miss playing.
Sadly, three people had died the night of the storm in the hotel. Beside Lila Dalton, the woman I had found in the lobby was a guest who had been down from Birmingham with her family. A young child was upstairs when a window blew in and had been wounded severely. The little boy died the next morning before he could be taken into town for medical care.
The remaining residents in the little town had miraculously survived with only minor cuts and scrapes, although all were emotionally scarred and shaken by the storm’s fury. We learned later that the Hurricane of 1926 had started days earlier down in the Caribbean and then swept across South Florida, nearly leveling Miami, turning north up across the Gulf of Mexico before reaching landfall again along the beaches of the Panhandle of Florida. It was a devastating storm that had left many dead in its wake.
The beach had been drastically altered by the fury of the wind and waves, swept nearly clean of vegetation, the dunes battered and eroded. Walking along the beach, those homes and cottages that had been built close to shore had been nearly decimated by the wind and storm surge.
Melanee’s new pet bird had been saved when everyone took refuge in the shed. The little girl kept the bird on the table in the living room of the Headley place. There had been no sign of Champ since the storm, but many other birds had returned, somehow able to survive the ferocity of the winds of the hurricane.
It was more than a week after the storm when Willie Palumbo’s car pulled back into town. I was out working on the front porch of Headley’s cottage when I saw him drive up in front of the wreckage of the hotel. Phone service had still not been restored and I was sure he had no idea what to expect or what had happened to his wife. He got out with Anthony and they both walked up into the mass of broken beams and walls. I watched as he stood there helplessly looking around. I had little empathy for the man, considering what he had done with Eleanor, but I knew Louise was anxious for him to arrive.
I walked over and when he saw me his face lit up, obviously not aware I had discovered his secret pact with Eleanor Whitlock. “Coulter, thank God you’re all right,” he said, and walked up to greet me with a big bear hug. I didn’t return his embrace and he stood back with a puzzled look. “What’s wrong, son?” he asked.
“I’m not your son, Willie,” I reminded him. “Louise is okay, by the way. She’s staying a couple of blocks back with another family.” I could see the relief on his face as I gave him the directions to find the place.
“We had no idea how bad it was down here,” he said. “It’s taken this long for the roads to get cleared so we could get through. God, what a mess,” he said, looking over the ruins of the hotel and the rest of the town. “Must have been a helluva blow?”
“You can’t imagine,” I said. “Three people died there in the hotel that night.” He looked at me with the question that didn’t need to be asked. “Lila’s gone, Willie. She was killed that night and two of her guests. Sara and Melanee managed to get to safety out back there. They’re staying with me over at Headley’s.”
Palumbo looked down in sadness and shook his head. “What a damn shame,” he said. “She was quite a woman.” He looked up at me and obviously detected my look of scorn. "Coulter, what’s wrong? What the hell is going on?”
I wanted to launch into a full and angry rant on my last encounter with the prostitute he had arranged to seduce me, but I knew his wife had been waiting for days for his arrival. “It can wait,” I said. “Louise will be happy to see you.” He nodded and backed away and they drove off around the corner.
Sara was leading Melanee by the hand up from the beach when I started back to the house. They had gone down for a swim and taken a picnic lunch with them. I had been invited to go, but wanted to keep on with the work on the house. My last-minute efforts that night of the storm to put the pages of my manuscript away proved beneficial. The suitcase had survived the night and the pages had remained dry. There had been no time to return to the story and the typewriter had been badly damaged.
“Mathew,” Melanee cried out as they came closer. “The waves are down today and we were able to go out in the water.”
“That’s great,” I said. The pounding surf had lingered for days after the storm and the currents had been too dangerous for the little girl to venture in. I took her other hand and walked with them back up to the house. Looking over at Sara, I saw that her mood seemed to have brightened some from the trip to the beach. She had been terribly quiet and sad these past days, understandably so with the tragic loss of her mother. I knew it would take time for all of our grief to fade. The sight of the battered hotel every day didn’t help to let any of us move on beyond the terror of that night.
Back at the Headley’s house I had set up chairs on the front yard for us to sit in the evening until I was able to get the porch rebuilt. We sat Melanee down and Sara went inside to bring out her bird in its cage. I sat down next to the little girl. “Mathew, can grandma see us from up in Heaven?” she asked. “I hope she can so she can see we’re all right.”
“Yes, she can, honey,” I said, trying to reassure her. “She’s up there with God and she knows we’re just fine.” Sara came back out with the bird and placed it on a small table in front of her daughter. The bird chirped and jumped around on its perch and Melanee reached in to feed it a cracker. Then I heard some commotion behind us and I turned to see little Champ, our wild mockingbird, jumping around and squawking on a pile of lumber.
Melanee heard him, too and yelled out, “Champ, is that you, Champ?” I took her hand and we walked over together and knelt beside the wood pile. Melanee held out another cracker and Champ hopped right up and took it out of her hand. I was amazed the little bird had managed to find refuge from the storm. I assumed it had perished when we hadn’t seen him for days after the hurricane.
Melanee had named her new little bird, Maggie, after my sister. She looked at me now and asked, “Do you think Maggie would be happier being free with Champ?”
Sara had come over to join us. “She might not come back, sweetie,” she said.
“But Champ needs a friend and I think she’ll be happier,” the little girl said. “Would it be okay, Mathew?” she asked.
“I think you’re right,” I said, and then I brought the cage over and opened the door. Melanee reached inside and the little bird jumped on her finger. She slowly pulled it out and held her hand down near the board that Champ was bouncing around on. Sure enough, Maggie jumped down and hopped over to check out her new companion. Champ seemed delighted with her by the sound of his chirping reaction. Melanee fed them both another cracker and then a gull swept in close and both of the mockingbirds flew away up into a tree behind the house.
“They’ll be back,” the little girl said.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Palumbo came by later that afternoon and got out of the car to speak with me. “Wanted you to know the bastard O’Leary, the one who killed your brother Jess…”
“Yes?” I said, my attention piqued.
“Well we took care of the sonofabitch for you. Part of the payout I guess,” he said.
“You killed one of the O’Leary’s?” I asked in amazement. “The old man?”
“Kill is such a strong word, Mathew, and highly illegal as you know,” he said, and then he smiled that wicked smile of his. “We just allowed him to disappear, a very painful disa
ppearance I might add.”
“I don’t know if thank you is appropriate at a time like this,” I said, “but I do appreciate what you’ve done.”
“It was nothing, kid. The bastard had it coming.” Then he asked if I wanted to come into Panama City with him. Louise was in the car and he said they would be staying at a hotel in town. I told him no, and again debated on confronting him about Eleanor, this time with his wife there in the car.
“I’ll say hello to Eleanor for you, son,” he said. “Have you seen her? Is she okay after the storm?”
“No Willie, I just haven’t had time.”
“I’ll give her your best,” he said, giving me a strange look before getting back in the car.
“Sure,” I responded, trying to keep my temper under control in front of the man’s wife. As they drove off it occurred to me Eleanor would tell him everything about my discovery of their alliance, but I was getting to a point it seemed far less important than what many others were now dealing with along this battered coast. I was still troubled about the financial arrangement we had made with Palumbo, but I kept trying hard to remind myself that my mother and sister would continue to be well cared for with no further worries about the illegal liquor business. A letter had just arrived yesterday from my mother, the first mail to get out to Grayton Beach since the storm. I had dropped a note in the mail to her the day I had gone into Panama City with Sara to visit the banker. In her note, she wrote she continued to be so worried about me since the hurricane and was waiting each day to hear news of how things were progressing. She also wrote that my father was showing little improvement and that Maggie had filed for divorce from Desmond Raye.
It dawned on me I hadn’t even asked Palumbo about the business. It seemed the least important thing just now and actually, I cared very little if he was successful or not.
Sara Dalton came out of the house with a sandwich and glass of water for me and we sat in the chairs on the front lawn. I proceeded to eat my lunch, still stewing on Palumbo. Melanee was off riding with Rebecca Bidwell. They had headed off up the beach about an hour ago.
Sara was looking off in that direction when she said, “I was wondering why you haven’t been into Panama City lately?”
Her question caught me unprepared and I almost choked on my sandwich before I could swallow the last bite. I hadn’t told anyone else about Eleanor and her tryst with the sheriff, let alone her scheme with Palumbo. “I’ve just been a little busy here,” I said. Trying to change the subject, I continued, “Have you thought any more about your plans? About the hotel, I mean.”
Sara looked over at the rubble that was the life her mother had tried to build. Birds were pecking around in the debris. She kept looking at the hotel when she said, “I just don’t know if this is best for Melanee and me. Is it really fair to keep her out here in the middle of nowhere? She needs special schools and teachers, let alone friends she can play with.”
“You know she loves it here,” I offered.
“Yes, I know, but she really doesn’t know much else. She was so little when I brought her here,” she said, and I watched as the memory caused her face to flinch in an anguished expression.
“Please don’t worry about the money,” I said. “I can take care of that for you.”
“I know and that’s so sweet of you to offer, but sooner or later Melanee and I need to make our own way and build our own life. I just don’t know what or where that might be.”
“You don’t need to rush,” I said.
“I’ve been thinking a little about going back to Nashville. I could get a job singing somewhere…” She let the thought trail off on the breeze blowing in from the Gulf. Finally, she spoke again. “And what about you, Mathew? You plan to spend the rest of your days out here on the edge of nowhere?”
She knew about my book and had been encouraging me to get back after it. “I have work yet to do here,” I said, looking back at the Headley place. I knew I wasn’t obligated to do any of this; that the Headleys could afford to have it all taken care of, yet I felt an obligation after their hospitality and I was actually enjoying the labor and hard work. And something about this little beach town had gotten under my skin. I was really starting to feel at home, in spite of the series of unfortunate and often tragic events these past months.
“I still can’t come to terms with the fact she’s gone, Mathew,” Sara said suddenly, catching me by surprise. She had been fairly strong the past few days, but I could tell all of this was weighing heavily upon her.
I took a deep breath and scratched at my unshaven face before I replied. “When I lost my brother a few months back I felt the same. There was this feeling it was all just a bad dream. I’m not sure those feelings will ever go away, Sara.”
“I know,” she replied softly. “It’s just we were finally back together and…” Then she started to cry and couldn’t continue for a moment. She tried to compose herself and said, “She was so patient with me and what she’s done for Melanee…” Again, she couldn’t finish.
“Your mother loved caring for Melanee and she loved even more seeing you back and healthy and with your daughter again,” I said. “You know how pleased she was that you’re healing and ready to get on with your life with Melanee?”
She nodded and then got up and came over and kissed me on the cheek before turning and going back up into the house.
It was just past dinner and the sun was falling low to the west. I was sitting out in the yard. Melanee and Sara had already gone to bed. A car drove up the road past the wrecked hotel and then stopped in front of me. When the headlights went out I could see it was the sheriff, Lucas Crowe. He got out and walked up and then sat down beside me.
“Evening, Coulter.”
I didn’t respond, but took another pull on my cigar and looked off at the sunset.
“Wanted to let you know something.” When I didn’t turn, or answer he kept on. “Picked up a piece of shit drifter yesterday down near Seagrove. He was drunk and had broken into a couple of houses, looting after the storm.”
“And why should I care,” I finally said.
“Got to talking to this asshole down at the jail. Seems he knows your friend Palumbo. I gave him a little more to drink and he kept talking.”
I was getting more irritated by the minute and finally said, “Crowe, what the hell do you want?”
“Seems this fella does some work for your friend now and then.”
“All right,” I said, “just get to the point.”
“Well I let the guy get pretty liquored-up and he just kept talking and I started putting things together,” Crowe said. “Asked him if he knew Seth Howard.”
This got my attention and I looked over at the man who I had seen paying my former girlfriend for sex. I tried to put the images out of my head, as I had been for some time now. “Howard?” I asked.
“Yeah, he got real squirrelly when I asked him about Seth Howard, so we kept talking about it.”
“Just get on with it, Crowe,” I said.
“I could tell this guy knew something and I told him if he had anything to do with that boy’s murder I’d personally take him down to Tallahassee to let the State of Florida hang him by the neck. Well then he got real nervous.”
“You think he killed Seth?” I asked.
“Hell, he finally confessed. I told him if he told me who put him up to it I could probably save him from the gallows. Well he was so damn drunk and so relieved at not getting his neck stretched, he told me everything.”
I sat up in my chair. “Palumbo paid him to kill Seth Howard?” I asked.
“Damn right he did and I got the asshole he paid sitting down at the jail ready to testify against him,” the sheriff said. “Just thought you’d like to know.”
“Yeah, right,” I said.
“Stopped down to check on Louise Palumbo to see if she had heard from her husband. Seems he came through town today I didn’t say anything.
>
“You see him when he came through?” he asked.
“Yeah, said he was going into Panama City,” I said. “Took Louise with him.”
“Suppose he’ll be down at the club tonight?” he asked.
Again, I just looked at him.
“Your girl, what’s her name, Eleanor?” he said, and the hair on the back of my neck bristled. “Suppose she’ll be down there, too. Seen her lately?”
I stood up and reached over and grabbed him by the shirt, and lifted him up to face me. I moved so quickly I caught him by surprise, but he recovered and pushed me away. “I told you once, Coulter, don’t ever pick another fight with the law.”
I was seething with anger and about to ignore his warning and proceed with the ass-kicking he deserved. Then I heard Sara behind me. I turned and she was standing in the darkened door.
“Everything okay out there, Mathew?” she asked.
“Just fine, just fine,” I answered. “You can go back to bed. She hesitated for a moment and then went back inside.
“So, you got yourself a new girl, Coulter,” he said, and laughed.
“Damn you, Crowe. Get the hell out of here!” I yelled, and I moved at him again.
“Boy, I’d like nothing better right now than to throw your ass in the slammer for a few days for assaulting an officer of the law,” he said, “but I got a little appointment with your friend, Palumbo, down the beach there.”
Grayton Winds Page 26
