by Rick Murcer
“You can die from that,” answered Sophie.
“Then bury my fat ass right here.”
“Well, you’re right about one thing.”
“What?” asked Alex.
“Let’s just say we can’t bury you here,” she grinned.
“Funny. Bad things happen to smart-asses.”
“Too late. I’m already a cop.”
“Who says there’s no Karma?”
“Do I have to separate you two?” asked Manny.
“No, Dad,” said Sophie.
The return trip to the Sunkist went quickly despite the driver making an unexpected stop at the turn out. It seemed that two of the passengers finally figured out the operation of their digital cameras and wanted to arrest some once-in-a-life-time memories.
While they waited, Manny’s mind turned again to the Casnovskys and why they hadn’t made this excursion. Did they have a fight? Over what? Were they seasick? Not an uncommon occurrence for sure. Maybe they were…
“Penny for your thoughts?” asked Louise.
“Just getting hungry and can’t wait to get back to the ship to eat,” he lied.
“We’ll be back soon. I’m getting hungry myself.”
Louise nudged him to look at the pictures on their digital camera. He shifted his attention to his wife and the pictures.
They pulled away from the scenic turn out and ten minutes later boarded the Sunkist. Manny and Louise walked up to the front of the boat to watch the Ocean Duchess grow bigger as they approached St. Thomas. But Louise decided to go below deck to sit with Stella because the stiff breeze was blowing her hair into snarls and the hot sun was too much.
While Manny took in the approaching St. Thomas, Sophie shuffled up to his side and leaned over the railing. Mellow island music blared from the shuttle’s speakers as the roiling smell of burning diesel from the Ocean Duchess’s colorful smoke stack became ever-more intense.
Sophie gripped the railing. “Lynn Casnovsky, my affair was with Lynn Casnovsky,” she breathed.
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CHAPTER-25
Sally May Thompson was glad this Monday was over. Today had been especially busy because two cruise ships had steamed into Charlotte-Amalie. She didn’t care for the busy days. It was too hot to work that hard.
“Dees people bought everything from logo golf balls to cheap tee shirts dat wouldn’t last da year. Fools dey were, no doubt,” she marveled.
The faded numbers on the yellowed clock were barely visible. But she didn’t have to see the digits to know when it was quittin’ time. She had worked the tourist shop at Trunk Bay for almost thirteen years and there were no surprises. She could feel when it was time to finish the day’s work.
“SSDD. Same Shit, Different Day,” she rued.
The job paid the bills and she was grateful, but there had to be more to life than listening to starry-eyed tourists dressed like clowns ramble on about how beautiful Trunk Bay was.
Her pointed thoughts caused her to look toward the almost deserted beach. “Well, dey got dat part right, at least. But dey still damn fools for telling O’ Sally ‘bout it all day.”
Sally May turned off the latest Bob Marley tune bawling from the old radio and reached an ebony hand underneath the warped bamboo counter. She located her secret mini-cubby and brought out a pint of the island’s best homemade 70-proof rum.
Once uncorked, she swung the clear bottle to her nose and inhaled with zest. “Mercy. What rum! It not only clears de troat but clears de sinuses, too.” She purged a full belly laugh. “But I tink I like de troat clearing better, don’t ya know.”
Following two long draws; Sally snorted her appreciation and stashed the bottle back under the counter, wiping away a couple of stray drops that had fallen on her flowered frock. That was enough, for now. It wouldn’t do for the wife of a Baptist preacher, a Southern Baptist preacher no less, to come home three-sheets to the breeze. She laughed again.
If God didn’t want us to have de rum, why would He make it, I wonder?
Still, she had to keep up appearances. What would people say?
My, dose people would talk, dey would.
With a weary grunt, Sally May raised up from her stool and restocked the quaint little shop then switched to the paperwork for the day’s sales. Balancing the receipts had never been a problem. She had always been good with numbers even though she only possessed a tenth-grade education. After she had gotten herself pregnant with Cedric, her first of three children, going back to school was never really on her agenda. Besides, there was no reason for her to go back, she needed no more education.
Sally finished up, balanced to the penny, as usual, and bundled up the cash and credit card worksheets for the auditor who marched in every morning to check her work.
Talk about a mon that needed a shot of de rum. He don’t trus nobody, not even his Mama.
The anal mannerisms of the government auditor caused her to wonder about his childhood. Sally had no idea why he, or others, flew that way. It didn’t jive with island culture. Not a bad looking fellow, though.
She reached for the black strongbox to lock up the money and noticed the tightly wrapped package that had come for Dot Maxwell. She could see it was from the ranger’s family on the mainland. It may very well be the one that girl had been asking about for the last week. Dot was so excited with the prospects of getting it; her eyes would sparkle when she asked if it had arrived. She wouldn’t tell her what it was but wanted to show Old Sally.
Odd, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen Dot since early morning. Sometimes the girl would go out into the brush and take pictures of the wild donkeys, crested hummingbirds, or a basking iguana. Dot loved wildlife photography and wanted, someday, to try making a living at it. Sally thought she spent more time out there since that “incident” about six-months ago. Dot hadn’t told Sally everything, just that she wasn’t really raped; more like terrorized. Anyway, since then, every once in awhile, Dot simply lost track of time and would come back late, but usually not this late.
“Maybe she had one of dem stuffy meetings at de Governor’s house,” Sally mumbled to herself.
The ocean breeze stiffened into a comfortable gust and Sally May closed her eyes and basked in its coolness. When “her” ocean decided to cuddle like this, she could stand in it all day. Eventually, the kissing ended and she spun back to reality.
The oblong package called her name and she reflected about how thrilled Dot would be to get it. And maybe she would show Sally what was in the damn thing.
I guess supper can be a tiny bit late; we’ll all survive, I tink.
With the strongbox locked, she bent over to place it into the thousand-pound safe buried in the ground, slammed the door, and spun the combination dial four times. She straightened up with a wince and rubbed her considerable back. “Dis getting old shit is for de birds, for sure,” she groaned out loud.
Once the shop was secured and the alarm set, she firmly placed the brown paper package in her meaty hand and headed for the ranger’s cottage. Dot was scheduled to work until 5:00 so she had hopes of catching her. She could at least drop off the package inside the screen door.
Sally plodded down the sandy path and ambled toward the steps of the weather-worn porch. Her breathing became labored, like she’d been running a 5K race. She swore she was going to lose the extra weight. This time for sure.
Reaching the foot of the stoop, she crutched her hand on a round knee and looked upward to the stand of trees. Usually there were sounds of agitated or singing birds filling the air, but there was no noise echoing from the mahogany trees lining the path. Strange. She dismissed the thought and remembered why she came to Dot’s hut.
The top step moaned in protest as she scuffled up the steps and raised a hand to knock, but the inside door was already open an inch. A tinge of uneasiness pulled at her. Dot wouldn’t leave the office without locking the door. She was too methodical to make that kind of mistake, and that computer w
as worth some money.
“Dot, girl is you dere? Dot? I got dat package from home.”Not hearing Dot’s response caused her nervousness to escalate. Sally looked to her right and noticed that the shade was drawn on the front window. She didn’t recall that being closed. Ever.
Senses on full alert, she gently leaned the package against the hut and clutched the worn out door handle, finally working up sufficient courage to pull open the rusty screen door, slowly pushing the inside door with her free hand. It swung open, and then abruptly stopped as something blocked its path.
An unfamiliar odor prompted Sally May to wrinkle her nose. “What de hell is dat?”
The metallic scent hung in the air like a helium balloon. Sally’s body tensed even more, and her eyes grew wider as she poked her head through the partially opened door.
“Dot? Dot, do ya hear me, woman?”
No response came from the darkened room. The thumping in her head grew louder. The quiet inside the small cabin was as unnerving as the stillness surrounding it. She moved a little farther through the entrance. Just as her hand slid up the door’s smooth wood, movement trapped the corner of her eye.
“MEEOOOWWWW,” split the humid air as Scully, Dot’s big tiger cat, raced through the doors in a frenzied rush, brushing past Sally’s sizeable calf as he scampered toward places unknown.
Sally May Thompson screamed. Her arms launched into the air causing her to twist off balance and slam flush into the inside door. The door gave way and she tumbled backwards. Her world spun in slow motion as she plummeted out of control. There was a resounding thump as she landed full on her backside.
“Damn o’ cat! What you tryin’ to do, kill ol’ Sally?” she yelled.
The preacher’s wife closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated on steadying her frazzled nerves. She took a deep breath and looked around the shadowy room. She could make out the dark shape of the computer desk and realized that the window facing the south had the shade drawn too. In fact, all four shades were pulled. The sickly odor was so intense she could taste it. She placed her right hand behind her to brace herself. Something cold and sticky clung to her palm, and she pulled it away like she had just touched the burner of a hot stovetop.
“What in God’s name?” Sally rolled over to her hands and knees and pushed herself up and hurried to open the blinds.
Her eyes grew large as she saw the blood on her hand. Her gaze moved past her hand and rested on Dot Maxwell. The park ranger’s unseeing eyes stared at the dark ceiling. Dot had been stripped of her clothes. Her throat and breasts looked like they had been served to barracudas for lunch. There were dark bruises tattooed about her face and neck. Large chunks of flesh were missing from her left thigh. A solitary black rose rested across her torso.
As reality caught up with the incomprehensible, she screamed again. Then the strongest of all instincts revealed itself to Sally May Thompson. She scrambled out of the cabin, moving with unexpected speed for a woman her size, toward the shop and the phone, all along speaking prayers to God to keep her safe from the demon who had murdered her friend.
Sally dialed the police. Waiting for a response, she was struck with an odd thought. Dot would never get to see what was in that package. She would never tell Sally what she’d been so excited to share. She didn’t know why, but that seemed important.
The dispatcher came on line and Sally quickly reported what she had seen, maintaining a surprisingly poised manner.
After she hung up, all of the emotion building from the previous ten minutes erupted like a broken water pipe. Her ebony body heaved with hysterical sobs. She wept for Dot, but for herself too. Sally May Thompson would never be the same. How could she be? The devil had just shown her his work up close and personal.
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CHAPTER-26
Lynn Casnovsky? His partner cheating with his good friend’s husband? It seemed crazy, made up.
To top it off, Lynn had a sadistic and domineering itch that Sophie was scratching? They had both walked a dangerous line and were lucky they hadn’t been caught.
Once Sophie confessed her lover’s name, she hurried back to one of the padded benches, away from her friends, away from him. She plopped down and hung her head. Her contrite action could have been convicting shame or sheer relief. Manny thought a little of both. It had taken courage to go this far down the road to confession. He respected Sophie for that, but he wondered if some things could ever be fixed, really recovered from. He didn’t have to dig too deep to find the answer.
There would be time to talk later. For now, the truth would have to do. He ran his fingers through his hair and realized that was the first step to figuring out this mess.
After the Sunkist dropped its passengers back in St. Thomas, Louise wanted to go shopping at the strip mall right at the pier where the Ocean Duchess was docked.
“Come, on. Every woman wants to shop in St. Thomas,” she begged.
He never could say no to her.
“Tell you what, let’s go eat, change into something other than these swimsuits, and then I’ll go shopping with you. Deal?”
“Good idea. I guess that’s why you make the big bucks, huh?”
“Yeah, and don’t forget it.” He forgave the fist to his shoulder.
The others decided to head to the mall first and said they would catch up with Manny and Louise at dinner.
Randy and Sophie strolled hand-in-hand toward the pier’s shopping sharks. As they grew smaller, a helpless sigh escaped his mouth. His partner and her mate were an odd couple, no debating that, but he thought they could hold it together. He’d seen worse marriages survive more apocalyptic circumstances, and he hoped he was right on this one.
Louise hurried him across the shaky gangplank and they rushed into the fast-rising elevator to the bistro-lined Lido Deck.
Cruise ships are notorious for the mountains of food served daily and, today, Manny and Louise claimed their share of the mother lode.
The Mexican buffet was amazing. The smell of warm cheese, spicy chicken and beef, fresh vegetables, and a perfect salsa was almost more than Manny could take.
Of course, it was all chased down with vanilla and chocolate swirled ice cream cones. Manny devoured three as Louise looked on.
“You’re going to the gym after we get back from shopping, right?” she teased.
“I think it would be better if you worked it off me when we get back to the cabin.”
“You do, do you? That could be arranged, if you’re a good boy,” she said, running her hand slowly through the hair of his forearm.
“I’m always a good boy.”
She laughed and they left, Manny leading the way to their stateroom.
He shut the cabin door and before Louise could walk out of arm’s reach, he cradled her and brought her close, nuzzling the back of her neck, something that always got her attention.
“Not fair,” she giggled. Louise turned and kissed him with surprising hunger.
“Wow. What they say about these cruises being an aphrodisiac could be true,” he said.
Louise stepped away from him and in one motion, removed the top of her bathing suit. “Then what do these do for you?”
Manny swooped up his wife and headed for the bed. “Let me show you.”
Their lips came together again, with mutual tenderness. Manny kissed her eyes, her ears; gently he teased the soft underside of her throat. She ran her hands over his back and cradled his head as she kissed him. Fire swirled from her lips. The heat of their breathing increased, like a hot Caribbean wind. They moved closer and Manny felt her soft breasts press against his chest. She felt wonderful.
His hand ran along the curve of her hip and then he pulled her closer. Then they were touching each other with the enthusiasm of newlyweds. Not in a heated lust, but with gentle, loving response to each other. Two people in love, making love.
Afterwards, she grabbed his face with her hands and moved slowly to his side. “I love you, Manny Willi
ams.”
He kissed her face and pulled her close to him. “I love you, too, baby.”
Fifteen minutes later, Manny and Louise were showered and then rambled for the shops of St. Thomas. As they worked their way through the forward hall of the ship, Manny noticed the “Do Not Disturb” sign still hanging on Liz and Lynn’s room. It refused to hide its taunting leer.
Louise glanced at the sign. “Liz never called you back, did she?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Okay. Maybe this is a little weird. They could be seasick though. Didn’t they say it happened to them on the last cruise they took?”
Without answering, he knocked on the door. They waited. He knocked again. No one answered. Manny raised his arm to hammer the door again when Louise stopped him.
“Whatever they’re doing, let them do it. It’s their trip and if they want to spend it in the cabin, it’s fine. Besides, there’s a million other places they could be, yes?”
“Could be, but it doesn’t feel right. Maybe something’s wrong.”
“Like what? What could be wrong? It’s a cruise ship. How much safer could it be?”
She was right, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of doubt. Especially since Liz hadn’t returned his calls.
His right hand glided through his hair (the old habit cursed him when he started to stress) and pressed his lips into a straight line.
Liz would have contacted someone if they had changed their minds about the excursion. It was how the woman operated.
“This is what we’ll do; if this sign isn’t gone by the time we get back, we’ll have the room steward open the door. Okay?” Louise said.
He nodded. “Alright. That works for me.”
****************
The couple continued down the hall toward the elevator, holding hands, as the door four down from the Casnovsky’s opened to a narrow slit. The big man watched the detective and his wife turn the corner and entertained a toxic smile.
