by Peg Cochran
A car horn honked and Monica whirled around to see Gina pulling into the space beside her. She got out of the car and tiptoed across the sand toward Monica. She was wearing capris, a purple tank top and a pair of wedged espadrilles with ties crisscrossing her lower legs. A purple fleece was tied around her shoulders.
“This is so exciting,” Gina said. She pushed her enormous round sunglasses up on top of her head. “It’s like we’re spies or something.”
“It could also be dangerous,” Monica warned.
Gina gave a theatrical shiver. “That makes it even more exciting.” She dropped her sunglasses back into place and looked up and down the beach.
“Do you suppose this Eddie character is waiting for a shipment of jewels or stolen artwork?”
“I don’t think it’s anything that exciting. More likely alcohol.”
Gina shook her head. “Everyone wants to make a fast buck these days. How do you figure this relates to the murder of that Laszlo fellow?”
“I don’t know that it does. But whatever Eddie is up to, someone else was involved in it as well, and I heard him say that that person was out of the picture permanently.”
Gina snorted. “Well, death is certainly permanent. So if it was Laszlo who he was working with, then Eddie might be the one—”
“Who killed Laszlo,” Monica finished. “Although what his motive would have been I can’t imagine.”
“Money,” Gina said, rubbing her fingers together. “If they were dealing in booze, then maybe Eddie wanted to cut Laszlo out of the picture.”
“Or Laszlo tried to cut Eddie out, but Eddie decided to end that discussion permanently.”
“Where are we going to hide?” Gina looked around. “There doesn’t seem to be much cover out here.”
“We have to find that dock first. That’s where Eddie said the boat would come in. It must be farther down in that direction.” Monica pointed toward a spit of land and a red-and-white-striped lighthouse.
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Can you walk in those things?” Monica pointed at Gina’s shoes.
“Sure. I can always take them off. Walking barefoot in sand is good for your feet. It tones your muscles and exfoliates any dead skin.”
Trust Gina to turn a walk on the beach into a beauty treatment, Monica thought as they headed in the direction of the lighthouse.
The sun was warm and Monica took off the windbreaker she was wearing and tied it around her waist. Within five minutes, the dock Eddie had described came into view. The boards were rough and peeling and some were missing altogether, and the sides were stained green from algae. It didn’t look very sturdy but Monica supposed it would do for a quick drop-off.
“We need to find a place to stand where Eddie won’t see us. I don’t think he’ll be paying too much attention to his surroundings since it’s unlikely he expects anyone to be around. I’m sure that’s why he chose this place to begin with.”
“There are some large rocks over there.” Gina pointed to a cluster of boulders by the shoulder of the road.
“That looks as good as anything.”
They began walking in the direction of the rocks.
Scrubby bits of grass poked through the sand and wove between the crevices in the larger rocks and pebbles littering the ground. Monica gingerly lowered herself to a seated position, thankful she’d worn long pants. Gina sat down beside her.
“Can you see?” Gina whispered.
Monica moved a few inches to the left and peered around the edge of the boulder.
“Well enough, I guess.” She swept her gaze from left to right. “That skiff I noticed earlier is getting closer to shore. If that’s the boat bringing in the shipment, Eddie ought to be coming along any minute now.”
Just then they heard the rumble of a car’s engine and the crunch of gravel as the vehicle maneuvered off the road. The car’s engine cut off abruptly.
“I hope he doesn’t see us,” Gina said, hunkering down further.
“Shhhh.” Monica put her finger to her lips.
A few minutes later, they saw Eddie walking across the sand a few feet away from them. He had on the black pants and white shirt he wore for work at the inn, although the sleeves of the shirt, instead of being down and fastened, were rolled up to his elbows.
By now the skiff was even closer, sending waves from its wake rushing toward the shore. They could hear the purr of its motor as it approached. Eddie stood on the dock waiting for it, his hands on his hips.
Just before the boat docked, Eddie turned around and scanned the beach slowly, looking from one end to the other, a hand shading his eyes from the sun.
“Get down,” Monica hissed.
She and Gina crouched behind the small cluster of rocks trying to make themselves as small as possible.
“He’s obviously making sure no one sees what he’s up to,” Gina whispered. “So he must be up to no good.”
The boat pulled up alongside the dock and a young man in jeans and a T-shirt jumped out, sending the small skiff rocking. He and Eddie wasted no time in unloading the boxes stored in the back.
They piled them on the dock, and Eddie retrieved a knife from his back pocket and slit open one of the cardboard boxes. Even from a distance, Monica could see a flash of white teeth as he smiled at the other man. He pulled something from the box and held it up.
Gina poked Monica. “What is it? Can you see?”
“I’m not sure.” Monica squinted into the distance. “But it looks like a carton of cigarettes.”
“I thought you said they were bootlegging booze.”
“That’s what I thought.” Monica chewed on the side of her thumb. “But it looks like cigarettes. It makes sense. Apparently they’re cheaper in Indiana because the tax is lower. So Eddie brings them into Michigan by boat and then sells them. The buyer pays less and Eddie still makes a profit. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
They watched as Eddie ripped the end off the carton of cigarettes and took out a pack. He crumpled up the cellophane and threw it in the water, where it bobbed on the surface for a second before being sucked under by a wave.
Eddie shook out a cigarette and passed the pack to the other fellow. The wind blew out Eddie’s first match and he swore loudly. Finally, he got it going, the tip glowing red in the distance.
He and the fellow with the boat shook hands. Eddie stuck the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and picked up one of the cartons. He began carrying it up the beach toward where he’d left his van.
“We’d better get out of here,” Monica whispered to Gina. “When he goes back for the next box, we can sneak away.”
Gina nodded.
By now, the skiff had sailed away from the dock and was headed toward the horizon where a larger boat was docked. As soon as Eddie’s back was turned, Monica and Gina scrambled away from their hiding place and back to Monica’s car.
Monica glanced behind her. Eddie had come in the Cranberry Cove Inn van. She could see it parked farther down the road.
“So now we know that Eddie was bringing in cheap cigarettes for resale,” Gina said, checking her makeup in the mirror clipped to the visor on the passenger side of Monica’s car. “But how does that tie into Laszlo’s murder?”
“I think Laszlo was either in partnership with Eddie or he was trying to cut into Eddie’s business. When we found him lying dead in his boat, we also found a single cigarette. Laszlo didn’t smoke according to his wife. I think he did exactly what we saw Eddie do—open up a box, take out a carton of cigarettes and check one of the packs. He didn’t smoke the cigarette but did drop it in the bottom of the boat where we found it.”
Monica pulled up to a red light and stopped.
“At first I thought perhaps Laszlo was out in his boat to meet his supplier halfway, with the exchange taking place out on the water. Now I think maybe he was trying to beat Eddie to the supplier’s boat so he could take all of the product for himself.”
“Only Eddie figured ou
t what Laszlo was up to then showed up and killed him,” Gina said, filling in her lips with red lipstick.
“Something like that. I think Eddie let Laszlo believe he was getting away with it. He waited for him at the yacht club near Laszlo’s slip. When Laszlo arrived with the goods, Eddie killed him and stole the cigarettes. Then he put Laszlo’s body in the boat and set it adrift in the lake.”
Monica glanced in her rearview mirror and noticed with a start that Eddie’s van was right behind her. She felt a moment of panic. Had Eddie seen her and Gina hiding behind those rocks?
“It was easy enough for Eddie to steal that knife from the inn. No one would think twice about seeing him in the kitchen.”
Monica glanced in her rearview mirror again, but Eddie’s van wasn’t in sight. Still, she had an uneasy feeling that refused to go away.
“Is anyone in back of us?” she said, glancing at Gina.
“Let me see.”
Gina swiveled around in her seat. “Some sort of van turned out of that street back there.”
“What color is it?”
“One second.” Gina fished around in her purse and pulled out a pair of red-framed glasses. She put them on.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Monica said, quickly glancing at Gina.
“Only when I absolutely have to.” She turned around again. “Now I can see. It’s a white van and has Cranberry Cove Inn written on the side.”
“That’s Eddie,” Monica said, unconsciously pressing harder on the gas pedal. The car shot forward.
“You don’t think he saw us, do you?”
“I don’t know. He might have seen our car. I’d hoped he would think someone had pulled over to look at the view.” Monica gripped the steering wheel. “I’m going to turn. You check and see if he follows us.”
Monica put on her blinker and turned down a small side street. Too late she noticed the No Outlet sign.
“Did he turn with us?”
“He’s sticking to your back bumper like glue.”
“He must know we saw him then.” Monica’s hands were slick on the steering wheel.
“Does that mean we’re in trouble?” Gina said with a note of excitement in her voice.
“It’s nothing to get excited about. If he killed Laszlo, there’s no reason he wouldn’t kill again.”
“Oh,” Gina said in a very small voice.
The street was nearly deserted. Lots with overgrown grass and spindly trees bordered the road. Monica began to panic as she realized that they were going to be trapped at the end of the cul-de-sac. The road went around a corner and Monica followed it, only to be faced with a large deserted factory at the end of the street. The windows were dirty and broken and the macadam in the parking lot was cracked and torn up where weeds had pushed through the surface.
“Where are we?” Gina said.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been down this street before.”
“Well, what do we do now?”
“I’m not sure.” Monica stopped for a moment and looked around.
They heard the rumble of Eddie’s engine as Eddie came zooming down the street in back of them and maneuvered the van so that Monica couldn’t move forward.
Her hands were shaking as she shoved the gear into reverse and hit the gas. The car’s rear right tire bumped up over the crumbling curb and stuck. Monica hit the gas again but that only served to set the tires spinning.
“What are we going to do?” Gina said. “We’ve got to get out of here. I don’t think Eddie simply wants to have a polite chat.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Monica said. “We’re stuck.”
Monica trounced on the gas pedal one more time and the car shot backward, the other three wheels bouncing up over the curb and causing Monica and Gina to lurch in their seats.
Monica took the car out of reverse gear and, turning in as tight an arc as she could manage, began to move forward.
“Do you think we can outrun Eddie?” Gina said.
“I hope so,” Monica said as she guided the car, as quickly as she could, across the rutted field. Eddie was right behind them. “That van can’t be too fast, but then again my old Taurus isn’t exactly a Formula One racer either.”
Monica managed to make her way across the field and onto what must have once been the factory’s gravel driveway. Most of the gravel had washed away and large potholes were filled with rainwater topped with an oily slick.
“Where is Eddie now?” Monica said, not wanting to risk a quick glance in the rearview mirror.
She had the gas pedal nearly to the floor and needed all her concentration to steer the car. Gravel shot out from their back tires and the rear of the Taurus occasionally fishtailed in the patches of mud.
Gina glanced over her shoulder. “It looks like he’s stuck now.”
Monica let out a loud exhale. “Maybe we can get away from him after all. As soon as we get out of here, we’ll head straight to the police station.”
“That’s a relief. I don’t want to die a spinster,” Gina said.
“Can you be a spinster if you’ve already been married?” Monica said, not taking her eyes from the path in front of her.
“I don’t know. But I want my obituary to read She was married to the fabulously wealthy . . .”
“I’ll be happy if our obituaries don’t appear in this week’s newspaper.” Monica risked a quick glance in the mirror. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” Gina swiveled in her seat and looked behind her.
“Eddie’s after us again.”
“Rats.”
They were nearing the abandoned factory now. The driveway had disintegrated further and a mound of dirt had erupted across it like a nature-made speed bump. Monica hoped the Taurus could get over it. The front wheels wanted to stick, but Monica kept her foot on the gas and they eventually came free. She wasn’t as lucky with the back wheels. No matter how hard she stepped on the gas, the rear tires merely spun uselessly.
“Eddie’s gaining on us,” Gina said, the note of panic clear in her voice.
“The car is stuck. We’ve got to leave it.”
“Wouldn’t you know it?” Gina grumbled as she got out of the car. “I just bought these shoes and now they’re going to be ruined.”
“Never mind your shoes. We need to get out of here.”
Monica began sprinting toward the front door of the factory. She turned around but Gina wasn’t behind her—she was still looking for something inside the car.
“What on earth are you doing?” Monica yelled.
“Getting my purse.”
“Your purse? That’s the last thing you’re going to need, Gina. We’re running from a killer—remember?”
“I’ve got it,” Gina said triumphantly, holding up her handbag. “It’s a genuine Birkin bag I bought on eBay for practically nothing.”
Monica reached for the door. She hoped it was open. She said a silent prayer as she grabbed the door handle and pulled.
She heard a door slam as Eddie got out of the van and started after them.
The door refused to budge. It wasn’t locked—Monica could see where it had swollen at the top and wasn’t completely shut. It was merely stuck. She put all her strength into it and pulled again.
The door gave a terrible groaning sound and opened part of the way, the bottom scraping against the buckled and cracked cement walk in front of it. No matter—the space was wide enough for Monica and Gina to slip inside.
“Come on,” Monica said, motioning to Gina.
“But it’s dark in there. And creepy.” Gina shivered.
“It’s better than having Eddie catch us. He seems to be quite handy with a knife.”
“You’re right,” Gina said, scooting through the open doorway behind Monica.
They found themselves in an enormous room filled with various sorts of machinery. Everything was shrouded in cobwebs and the floor underfoot was smeared with grease. A trickle of light came through the cracked an
d dirt-encrusted windows, leaving the corners of the room in shadow.
“What are those machines, I wonder?” Gina whispered.
“I don’t know. They look positively medieval.”
“What do we do now?”
There was a loud screech as Eddie pulled the door open wider.
Gina grabbed Monica’s arm.
“That’s Eddie. He’s coming after us.”
Monica glanced around quickly. “There’s a staircase over there. Let’s get out of here and find someplace to hide.”
They tried to be quiet but the soles of Monica’s shoes clattered against the metal steps of the circular staircase as they climbed to the upper floor. It, too, was filled with rusted machinery of all sorts, with abandoned offices lining one wall. Nameplates were still affixed to the doors and the shadows of old rolltop desks could be seen through the frosted glass panels.
They had barely reached the upper level when they heard Eddie taking the stairs two at a time.
Monica looked around in panic. “Come on,” she said to Gina, grabbing her arm, “we’ve got to hide.”
They scurried past the first few rows of machines and turned down the fourth row.
“Get down,” Monica hissed at Gina.
They both crouched behind what was some sort of saw—its jagged and broken teeth looked particularly menacing in the dim light.
“You might as well come out,” Eddie called from a short distance away. “I’m going to find you no matter what.”
They heard his footsteps ring out as he began walking down the rows, pausing to peer into the shadows.
Monica felt her breath catch in her throat. She’d been counting in her head and by now Eddie ought to be to the third row. It was only a matter of moments before he saw them cowering in the shelter of the piece of ancient equipment.
“We’ve got to move,” Monica whispered to Gina. “Let’s run toward the wall.”
Monica stumbled to her feet and, keeping her head down, followed Gina down the row.
She looked around as she caught her breath. They could duck into one of the offices, but how long before Eddie found them there? She felt as if she was trapped in some sort of life-or-death cat-and-mouse game.
They felt their way along the wall until they reached the end of the rows of machinery. Monica had hoped there would be another set of stairs, but she didn’t see any. She did notice a door that didn’t lead to an office. She thought it might be some sort of utility closet.
