The police were taking a statement from the crying woman as the crowd started to disperse. Kip gave me a quick kiss and then he took off.
"What a weird day," I said, turning to Duke. "Can I bum a ride home?"
"No, you can't," Duke said with a half-smile.
"And why not, pray tell?"
"Because someone owes someone else a tankard of ale."
"I guess we'll have to sort it out at The Big Easy," I said, happy for the company. It was no wonder Duke was everyone's favorite drinking buddy.
Chapter 15
"It's always Mardi Gras at The Big Easy, this is Brendan, how may I help you?"
The bartender was multi-tasking by pouring our beers and answering the phone.
"Sure, he's right here." Brendan said, handing the phone to Duke. "It's your girlfriend. She says you're not picking up your cell. Hey man, if I'm gonna be your secretary, I need a raise," he joked. Duke rolled his eyes at that.
"Hey Darlin'. Yeah, sorry, I turned it off when I was on the job. Yup, now I'm havin' a beer with Jamie. You're coming here? Okay, see you later. Me too, alright, bye."
He gave the phone back to Brendan and took a fortifying swig of beer.
"Well, you're in for a treat," he said, with a wry smile.
"So I gathered," I said. "Remember the first time I met you here, about two years ago? One of your girlfriends showed up and slapped you right across the face." I laughed. "She put some elbow into it, too, didn't she? Ah, good times."
"Yeah, well, different girlfriend," Duke said. "This one's got her act together. She's smart and she really gets me, that woman practically knows what I'm thinkin'."
I sipped my Abita, which was nice and cold. "Is that a good thing? Just kidding, she sounds like a keeper. So don't screw it up."
Duke grinned sheepishly. Maybe he'd finally found a woman who could rein him in, a woman who wouldn't attack his character on a giant billboard overlooking I-95 (even if he deserved it). I sure hoped so.
"How did you meet?" I asked, "And please don't say a strip club."
Duke squirmed in his bar stool. "Uh, well, we know each other from a long time ago."
"I'm going to assume you sang together in the church choir and that's why you don't want to tell me. Oh look, there's Kip. Hope you don't mind, I texted him that we'd be here."
Duke signaled for another beer. "Course I don't mind, I like that guy. And I want to hear the news for myself. Poor Malcolm, what a damn shame!"
Kip slid onto the barstool next to me. The bar was empty except for us; it wouldn't get busy until nine when the band started playing.
"Hey babe, you look like you could use a drink," I said. He did look pretty frazzled.
"I'll second that," he said, eyeing my beer. After Brendan had taken care of his three best customers, Kip settled in to tell us what he'd learned.
"It came as no surprise to me to hear that 'St. Francis' has frequent flyer status at the police station. They haul him in at least once a month for public nuisance, resisting arrest, and trespassing, but they always let him go eventually. This time's different though because of the possible homicide and because he's their only witness. He didn't want to cooperate at first, but the cops told him that if he refused to give a statement, they'd charge him with obstruction of justice. They were afraid he'd plead the fifth and refuse to talk."
I had to interrupt. "But why would he do that, just to be difficult? They don't think he had anything to do with Malcolm's death, right? And why would he hurt the elephant he was trying to protect? That's crazy."
"Now, hang on a minute, Jamie," Duke said. "Even if he wouldn't hurt the elephant, he might've provoked it to cause a scene so they'd take her out of the festival. That's what those PETA people want."
Kip drank his beer while the two of us debated. When we finally shut up, he put his beer down.
"You know how when we watch a movie, you always ask a million questions about what's going on?" He asked me.
"Yeah," I answered.
"What do I always say?" He gave me a half-smile.
"Just wait and you'll find out. Okay, fine, I get it."
"Not that I can answer all of your questions," he said, "St. Francis wasn't that helpful. Mostly, he was just ranting about animal abuse and how nothing had better happen to that elephant or there will be hell to pay. He said he was there by the elephant because PETA keeps someone on site at all times to report abuse, like prodding with a bull hook. He was busy taking notes when a man dressed like a jester pushed past him and pointed something at Taj. Francis heard a clicking noise and then saw a flash like lightning. That's when he realized the man had tasered Taj! He can't identify the guy except to say he was average height and had pale hands."
Duke whistled. "Why the hell would anyone taser an elephant? That's some kinda sick bastard."
I asked, "Do you think it's the park vandal, Kip?"
Kip shook his head. "The vandal has done a lot of damage in the past few months, but he's more like a practical joker. He's never harmed an animal or a person."
"So, what about Malcolm? Where does he fit in?" Duke asked.
"We don't know yet, Francis swore he knew nothing about Malcolm. He says he never left his post by the elephant. We'll have to wait for the medical examiner's report to find out if it's a homicide."
I shook my head. "Someone tasers an elephant and another guy ends up dead around the same time, they have to be connected."
"You'd think so," Duke agreed.
Just then, I saw someone walk into the bar, someone I knew but definitely did not want to talk to. You could say there was bad blood between us. That's the trouble with living in Hollywood--it's so small that you can't avoid running into people you know. I was sure this wouldn't end well.
"Don't look now, Duke," I said quietly, trying to be discreet, "but someone from your past just walked in. You might want to sneak out the back before things get ugly."
He looked up, even though I'd told him not to, and jumped off his barstool. I thought he was taking my advice and hitting the road, but no, he was walking right towards her, his archenemy, the woman he'd scorned, the one who would stop at nothing in her quest to take him down. When the two of them walked over to us, I was dumbstruck, and when Duke put his arm around her, I almost fell right off my stool.
"Kip," he said, "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Candy Broussard."
Chapter 16
"Nice to meet you, Candy," Kip said, warmly. "Did I hear that right--your last name is Broussard?"
"Sure is." Candy beamed down at Duke from atop her three inch stilettos. "I kept my ex's name. He wasn't real happy about it at the time, but he got over it."
"You two…were married?" Kip asked, trying to absorb this information.
I thought my head was going to explode. I couldn't stand there another minute and watch her make a fool of Duke--again. Without saying a word I walked off, escaping to the ladies' room which, luckily, had just been cleaned. Of all the women in the world, why did Duke have to take up with her? They'd had such a nasty divorce and when it was over, the only one still standing was Candy. She'd left with most of Duke's money and a large chunk of his self-respect. What more could she possibly want from him? I know pay-backs are hell, but shouldn't they end at some point? How was I supposed to go out there and play nice? I didn't need this headache; I already had enough going on with a potentially murderous stalker; a boyfriend teetering on the edge of depression; a dead P.I.; a park vandal; and a long-lost father trying to get the hell out of Nicaragua.
When I heard someone open the door to the bathroom, I ducked into a stall. The clicking heels stopped right in front of my door. I recognized her red stilettos.
"This one's taken," I said in a terse voice.
"You got a problem with me, Jamie? You jealous or something?"
I flung open the door, furious. "What is wrong with you, Candy Broussard? Why can't you just leave him alone already?"
"I knew that would get you to ope
n the door," she said, smugly.
I glared at her. In the three years since we'd crossed paths, she had transformed into a new and improved version of herself, Candy 2.0. I guess having money agreed with her. Instead of the bleached blonde hair she used to flaunt, she now had professional highlights and while she still wore a lot of make-up, she had toned that down, too. Her clothes were stylish and expensive and her overall look was sophisticated. At least she was dressing her age now and leaving her cleavage to the imagination.
"Duke said you'd be like this," she said, glaring back at me, arms crossed, exuding major attitude.
"Be like what?" I demanded, my voice escalating. "Horrified that you'd wormed your way back into his life? You bet I am! You hate his guts, and the whole world knows it, thanks to your prolific advertising campaign. What kind of sick game are you playing?"
"How dare you!" She was shouting now, too, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flaring. "I'm not the one who was cheating! Did you forget that? Of course I was angry and I did some things I'm not proud of, but it's none of your goddam business."
I took a deep breath and brought it down a notch. Several notches. "You're right, it's none of my business, but, you said it yourself, he cheated on you. So, why come back?"
"It's still none of your goddam business, but, if you must know, he said he's changed."
I looked down at the floor. I was about to say something I'd regret, but I said it anyway. "Has it occurred to you that maybe he's just wired that way? Not saying he's a cheater, but maybe he's not good at…monogamy."
She looked me in the eyes, giving me an icy blue stare. "He said he changed because of you. He's never had a woman friend before, not in all the years I've known him. And that's why I believed him."
Then she stormed out of the bathroom, leaving me to gape at my own reflection.
Chapter 17
In my mind, Candy had always been greedy and opportunistic, the vengeful ex-wife, the villain of the story. In the real world though, it's rarely that simple, especially in a divorce situation. Someone had been standing in the way of Duke's happiness that day and it turned out to be me. As much as I hadn't wanted to face Candy before the bathroom incident, it was ten times worse afterwards. Unfortunately, I didn't have a rock to crawl under so I went back to the bar, humbled and contrite.
I could feel the tension in the air. Kip and Duke looked wary and skittish, like men do when their girlfriends have just had a screaming match in the ladies' room. Candy had her back to me, ordering a drink. I tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
"Candy, I just want to say I'm sorry. I was way out of line. Can we start over?"
She gave me an appraising look, arching one perfect eyebrow.
"You can start by buying me a drink, and I'll see how I feel after that."
She smiled and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I turned on Duke.
"Thanks for the heads up, buddy. This whole thing could've blown up in your face and it would've served you right."
Duke laughed nervously. "I wasn't worried. I knew you two would work it out."
Kip almost choked on his beer. "You were terrified, Duke, just admit it." He turned to me. "You should've seen his face when Candy followed you into the bathroom, it was classic!"
Picturing that did make me laugh. "You took the cowardly way out, Duke. I mean, seriously, am I really that scary?"
For a second, nobody said anything and then Candy chimed in, "You do have your moments."
Kip raised his glass in a toast, "To Jamie, the scariest lawyer we know!"
Then we all clinked glasses, even me.
***
At the end of the night, after Candy had gone, we got back on topic if only for a moment. Duke said he was going to work the Malcolm angle by tracking down the money deposited in Malcolm's account and by tracing the e-mails and texts he'd received. Everyone agreed that the park vandal was not a priority. So what if he lined up picnic tables to spell out, "You suck!"--at least he wasn't killing anybody.
Kip said he was going to meet with his boss and the county commissioners on Monday. One commissioner in particular, an old-timer named Dillard Williams ('Dilly' to his friends), was being difficult. If Dilly had his way, not only would the Ren-Fest be closed down, but also half the parks. He was as pro-development as they come and complained that the parks were a waste of the most valuable land in Broward County.
Since I didn't have an assignment, I made up my own. I said I would call costume shops to see if anyone had bought or rented a jester costume and I'd also research where to buy a Taser locally. Of course I realized that anything could be ordered online (the more likely scenario), but I figured I'd check anyway. I also had another plan in mind which was probably dangerous and definitely insane, so I kept that one to myself.
Chapter 18
I told Kip that I planned to clean my house and run errands on Sunday, which was only partially true. I also planned to do other stuff. By eight a.m., I was already at my computer and on my second cup of coffee, quite an accomplishment by my standards, but I was on a mission, determined to help Kip, search for Malcolm's killer, and save the world from evil jesters.
Thankfully, Francis from PETA had provided the police with a detailed description of the jester costume, he'd even drawn a picture which Kip had texted to me. I found the costume online right away, it was sold by Party City; only the mask was different. The Party City version had a grinning skull mask (a Halloween jester?), but our jester wore a Mardi Gras mask of purple, green and yellow. Easier to blend in at the Ren-Fest that way, I imagined. There was a Party City close by that was open on Sunday and I thought about stopping in, maybe someone there would remember a mismatched jester. But, when I considered that there were three other Party City stores in the area and that the costume was also available online, I changed my mind and decided to call instead.
On to the next thing, the Taser. I learned that it's as easy to buy a Taser as it is to buy a gun, that is to say, very easy, 'shockingly' easy (sorry, I couldn't resist). You don't need a license and there's no registry to worry about and, yes, you can buy one online. Taser devices are not considered firearms and can be legally carried (concealed or open) without a permit in 45 states.
The Taser uses electrical current to disrupt voluntary control of muscles. The electrodes produce a spark that heats the air and the heated air produces that clicking sound, the same way thunder is produced by lightning. Although Tasers were supposed to be an alternative to lethal force, they have killed a fair number of people. Amnesty International reports 500 deaths from Tasers as of 2012. Some of the victims had pre-existing conditions which made them vulnerable, but others were young and healthy. A Taser kills by interrupting a person's heart rhythm; it is also agonizingly painful to be tasered. In other words, nobody grits their teeth and sucks it up when they're tasered, they scream like crazy. If you don't believe me, watch the videos on YouTube. After I finished my research, I was no closer to understanding why a person would want to taser an elephant. Mean and sadistic was still my best guess.
It was time for the crazy part of my plan, a scheme as dangerous as it was irresistible. I swear I wasn't drunk when I thought of it, but it had occurred to me that Malcolm's death posed a big problem for I-C-U. Even if I-C-U hadn't killed Malcolm (and I didn't believe that for a minute), he still had to be worried that someone could connect them. If he was starting to feel the pressure, then the only logical thing to do was to crank it up. If this was a game of chess, then I was tired of being his pawn.
I created a new e-mail account with a user name I thought I-C-U would appreciate. I knew that sending an email to his Gmail account would point right back to me even if it came from an unknown account, but I didn't care. I had no other way to get his attention. Before I could chicken out, I typed the message and pushed send.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
RE: The Untimely Demise of Malcolm Armstrong
Opening for Private
Investigator
Seeking P.I. for undercover investigative work.Must own camera, love of nature a plus. Better hurry, people are dying to get this job.
Your move, I thought.
Chapter 19
I didn't tell anyone what I'd done as I wasn't sure I'd actually done anything. Maybe I-C-U didn't use that account anymore. Maybe he changed accounts the way other people changed their clothes. Maybe I was overanalyzing the situation. It was hard for me to think like a stalker, especially since I'd so recently been the stalkee. All I knew was that, as a hobby, stalking was much more stressful than cake decorating or cross-stitch had ever been.
I sat there staring at my computer as if it were about to explode; then I walked away. To hell with I-C-U! It was a beautiful day and I planned to enjoy it. I put on my bathing suit, grabbed a towel and drove to Hollywood Beach where I swam in the warm Atlantic, squished wet sand beneath my toes and let the soft breeze caress my face. After my swim, I took a long walk down the Broadwalk, drinking lemonade and smiling at everyone as if I didn't have a care in the world. I understood why Kip loved being outside so much; nature had a way of putting things in perspective.
I rinsed off at the outdoor spigot and then crunched my way across the sandy parking lot to my car. Beach time had been exactly what I needed and a far better choice than cleaning my house. As I was driving home, my cell rang. It was Duke.
"Hey," I said, "You calling to apologize for your little ambush last night?"
"Course not, Darlin'. You already forgave me, don't you remember?" He laughed.
"I must've been drunk if I did that," I said. "Anyway, I'm through interfering with your love life. I just hope you know what you're doing."
"I'm not worried," he said. "If things go bad, I know the best lawyer in town and I've got her on speed dial."
It was my turn to laugh. "I thought I knew all the lawyers in town. You'll have to introduce me to this wonder woman someday. So, what are you up to?"
Peril in the Park: A Jamie Quinn Mystery Page 5
