“The ones you’re wearing will do just fine.”
“You don’t want to go by my place and watch me change, I suppose. Oh, never mind. If the car can’t get inside, neither can you. I know, I know. To the shooting range, James.”
We were the last ones to arrive. Manny Fonseca’s truck was there, the BMW that Kevin Turner was driving was there, and Zee’s little Jeep was there. Joshua, his ears plugged and covered with mufflers, was in his stand, where he could watch what was going on, and the adults were at the twenty-five-yard mark on the range.
Manny, who loved to talk about shooting almost as much as he loved to shoot, was in his element. A couple of pistols were lying on the table beside the yard marker, including Zee’s Beretta 84F and her .45. Manny was talking with Kevin about what he and Zee were going to be doing. Kevin, who, I suspected, had probably had some pistol training to prepare him for his heroic roles, listened with patience that I deemed at least partially feigned.
We joined the others and Manny and Kate shook hands. Manny was pleased to meet her, as what man wouldn’t be.
“What we’re doing here,” he said, “is teaching Zee how to shoot this here forty-five, because that’s what she’ll be using in this competition that’s coming up. Now, Zee shoots real good with that Beretta of hers, but she’s still not used to the forty-five, so that’s what we’ll be working with today.” He eyed Kate. “Zee says you might want to learn how to shoot, yourself. That right?”
Kate eyed the table full of pistols. “I think I’ll just watch for a while. Then I’ll decide.”
He nodded. “Makes sense. Okay, then, you folks just put these plugs in your ears and stand right over there.”
He and Zee, with mufflers over their ears and shooting glasses protecting their eyes, got to work. They took turns shooting. The air was filled with the bellow of the pistols, and the targets down the range gradually disintegrated into paper fragments. Manny’s hits were closer bunched than Zee’s, but as she continued to shoot, hers improved.
“Jesus,” said Kate as the clips were reloaded.
“That was right-handed,” said happy Manny. “Now we’ll try it left-handed.”
He walked down and replaced the destroyed targets with new ones, then once more the air was filled with sound. Kate winced and Kevin wore an expression of studied interest. The new targets disintegrated and were replaced.
Manny talked, and Zee listened. Then they shot some more. Left-handed, right-handed, and two-handed. From twenty-five yards and from ten yards and from other yards. Finally they stopped.
“That’s probably enough for today,” said Manny. “You did good, but you’re still pulling a little to the right.” He looked at Kate. “You want to try?”
“Before she does, I’d like to take a few shots with the Beretta,” said Zee.
Manny looked at her. “With the Beretta?”
Zee nodded. “I’m just getting started with the forty-five, but I’m pretty good with the Beretta. I’d like Kevin and Kate to see me at my best.”
Manny could understand that. “Well, sure. I’ll set up new targets.”
“I’ve got a couple right here,” said Zee. She handed him an envelope, and Manny peeked at the targets. “Set ’em up, please, Manny, and I’ll tell Kate and Kev about this weapon.”
Manny made an odd sound, and went down the range while Zee snagged her Beretta from the table.
“Now what we have here,” she said, “is a Beretta 84F. Wooden grips, .380 caliber, thirteen rounds, double action. It fits my hand well. And this is an extra clip, so I can get off more than two dozen shots pretty fast.” She smiled at Kevin and Kate. “I’m going to shoot the first clip right-handed and the second one left-handed. Manny’s teaching me to shoot with my left hand in case I ever get shot in the right hand and have to return fire. Police officers are trained to do that.”
Manny came back, gave Zee an odd look, and took a stand behind her.
“This will only take a minute,” said Zee, turning toward the range. It took less than that.
The rest of us turned and saw that two full-face publicity photos, one of Kate and one of Kevin, were the targets. The faces smiled at us from twenty-five yards. We only had a second to take this in before Zee began to shoot. First Kevin’s photo disintegrated as Zee put thirteen bullets through it. Then, as Kevin gasped, Zee popped the empty clip from her weapon, slammed home the second, and blew Kate’s picture into shreds.
A silence seemed to echo over the range.
Zee put down her empty pistol and began to refill a clip. She smiled at Kevin and then said to Kate, “You want to take a few shots now? You might like it.”
“My God, no!” said Kate, wide-eyed. “I think I get the message!”
Kevin was staring at Zee. “You must be crazy! You’ve got to be crazy!”
Zee filled the clip and snapped it back into the Beretta. She looked at him, then knelt and picked up the other clip from the ground. She began to fill it.
Kate tugged Kevin’s sleeve. “I don’t think she’s crazy, Kev. Come on, you can drive me to a bar. I think we could both use a drink. Nice to meet you, Mr. Fonseca.”
“You’re crazy,” said Kevin again, still gaping at Zee, but allowing Kate to pull him toward the BMW.
“Crazy!” he yelled one last time as he spun the car around and it roared away.
I looked at Zee and felt a grin on my face. “Crazy,” I said. Then I went over and got Joshua out of his seat. I took the muffler off his ears and took out the earplugs. “You have a crazy mother, Josh. What do you think of that?”
Joshua smiled. He thought it was just fine.
— 34 —
“The worst thing was missing the opening of the derby,” said Zee. “While I was out there slaving away under the lights in Hollywood, you were here catching fish! And winning a daily, while you were at it. I saw that new pin on your hat.”
We were on the balcony with Joshua.
“I thought the worst thing would be being away from Joshua and me,” I said.
“I mean besides that.”
“How did it go out there in La La Land? The last I heard, Kevin was so mad that he wanted you out of the movie altogether.”
“I may be, by the time all the editing has been done. But I guess not even Kevin is all-powerful, because I did my two pirate-girl scenes out there. The one in the pirate street and the one in the pirate bar. And I got to say my line.”
“I can hardly wait to see the movie.”
She grinned and put her head on my shoulder. “Me, too.”
“It’s going to be great being the husband of a famous star. I’ll be a power figure and the bimbos will all hover around me. The only problem is that they won’t dare get really close because they’ll be afraid you’ll shoot them.”
She shivered. “You know, maybe Kevin was right. Maybe I am crazy. I actually shot those pictures all to pieces!”
“Pictures aren’t people,” I said. “You celluloid princesses should know that better than most. Besides, I thought it was pretty funny. And even if it wasn’t funny, it sure was effective. Kevin and Kate lost all interest in us.”
She snugged closer. “You don’t think it was sort of wacko?”
“No. You’re a nurse. You cure people, you don’t kill them. You certainly cured Kevin and Kate, at least.”
“Not really. Out in Hollywood, they were up to their old tricks again.”
“But not with us.”
“No, not with us. I’m poison now to Kevin, but, you know, I sort of like Kate, ever since she started leaving you alone. Did I tell you that there are some people in the business who want me to go out there again?”
I felt a familiar little chill inside me. “No, but I’m not surprised. What are you going to do?”
“California is so far from the bluefish! But I’m going to think about it, and we’ll talk about it. Meanwhile, I’m going to join the derby and go fishing in the morning, and you’re invited to come along. And after
that, I have some other plans we should discuss. What’s happening with poor Connie Berube?”
“Poor Connie is being charged with two murders. The sheriff got warrants to search Lawrence Ingalls’s place and came up with the bills of sale showing that Ingalls originally bought Moonbeam’s pickup and Connie’s Subaru. And I guess they found some videotapes, too, and ice cream and kids movies and such stuff that Ingalls used to keep the Berube boy happy. On the bright side, the Connie Berube Defense Fund is doing pretty good. A lot of islanders are coming through and we’ve even got some mainlanders involved.”
Zee sighed. “What a mess that whole situation was. There’s just no telling what human beings will do, is there?”
We sat there looking out over our garden, over the pond beyond, over the barrier beach, and on out to the sound beyond, where the darkness was settling in the east. Above, the night sky showed an early star. Zee’s mother, Maria, believed in a God who lived up there somewhere. Maybe he knew what was going on.
“What are those other plans?” I asked. “The ones we need to discuss.”
She leaned over and peeked at Joshua, who was almost asleep in his carrier.
“There are three more,” said Zee, coming back to me. “First, I plan to shoot in that competition next month. That’s the little plan. The big plans are for a sister for the cub, there, and an addition on the house so she can have her own room. Every little girl should have a room of her own.” She looked up at me. “What do you think?”
I put my arm around her. “It’s okay with me if you want to go shooting,” I said. “And I can build the room without any help. But I’ll need assistance getting Josh a sister because I’ve never done a daughter before. In fact, I’m trying to recall how we got Joshua. Maybe you can remind me.”
“I’ll show you,” said Zee. “And don’t worry; you’ll remember right away. It’s like riding a bicycle. Once you know how, you never forget.”
THREE RECIPES PREPARED BY J. W. JACKSON IN THIS BOOK
SMOKED BLUEFISH PTÉ
8 oz. whipped cream cheese
1/2 tsp. prepared horseradish
1 large finely diced red onion
5–6 oz. shredded smoked bluefish
Dash of Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. lemon juice
Optional ingredients:
a pinch of cayenne pepper
salt to taste
a little Grey Poupon mustard
Mix ingredients and serve with crackers.
J. W. eats this in every book. He loves smoked bluefish pâté!
SHERRY AND GARLIC SHRIMP (OR FLOUNDER)
1–1 1/2 lbs. large shrimp, shelled, deveined, and patted dry
1/2 c. olive oil
3 Tbsp. dry sherry
3 large garlic cloves, crushed
1/2 tsp. thyme, crumbled Salt to taste
1/8 tsp. red pepper, crushed (or to taste)
Arrange shrimp in single layer in a greased baking dish. Mix remaining ingredients and pour mixture over shrimp. Bake in preheated 400-degree oven for 8 minutes, turning the shrimp once. Serve with pan juices spooned over shrimp.
Rice and steamed spinach are excellent accompaniments.
J. W. cooks this dish in chapter 26 of this book, but he doesn’t have any shrimp, so he substitutes flounder. Delish, just the same!
BLACK BEAN AND RICE SALAD
2–3 1-lb. cans of black beans, rinsed and drained
1 lb. frozen corn kernels, cooked (or 1 15-oz. can)
1/2 c. long-grain rice, cooked
1 large bell pepper, red or green, diced
1/2 c. red onion, chopped
1 tsp. salt
Dash of Oregano
Good Seasons Mexican Salad Dressing to taste
Optional ingredients:
shredded cheddar cheese or feta cheese
sliced black olives
marinated artichoke hearts
chopped cilantro
Oregano
chili powder
cumin
Mix and serve. It’s very good with rice pilaf, wild rice, or basmati rice.
J. W. serves this dish in chapter 3 of this book. It is, of course, excellent!
THE MARTHA’S VINEYARD MYSTERY SERIES BY PHILIP R. CRAIG
A Beautiful Place to Die
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #1)
Death in Vineyard Waters
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #2)
Vineyard Deceit
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #3)
Vineyard Fear
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #4)
Off Season
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #5)
A Case of Vineyard Poison
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #6)
Death on a Vineyard Beach
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #7)
A Deadly Vineyard Holiday
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #8)
A Shoot on Martha’s Vineyard
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #9)
A Fatal Vineyard Season
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #10)
Vineyard Blues
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #11)
Vineyard Shadows
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #12)
Vineyard Enigma
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #13)
A Vineyard Killing
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #14)
Murder at a Vineyard Mansion
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #15)
Vineyard Prey
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #16)
Dead in Vineyard Sand
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #17)
Vineyard Stalker
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #18)
Vineyard Chill
(Martha’s Vineyard Mystery #19)
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1998 by Philip R. Craig
Originally published in hardcover as A Shoot on Martha’s Vineyard
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First Scribner ebook edition July 2016
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ISBN 978-1-5011-5359-4 (ebook)
A Shoot on Martha's Vineyard Page 26
