Old Bones Never Die

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “The watch isn’t here; I can tell you that. But it’s really funny because when I was a kid I sometimes hung out here in the shop after school and on weekends. One Saturday I remember well because my dad insisted I help out if I was going to be underfoot all the time. That day he had me doing what I hated most: dusting the shelves. An Indian came in. He had this gold watch. Dad remarked it was unique. I’d never seen anything like it with that bird etched on its cover. I would have given a year’s allowance to own that. The guy seemed kind of nervous, like he wanted to make the deal for the watch real quick. I think Dad gave him fifty bucks for it.”

  “Fifty bucks!” said Sammy. That watch was worth hundreds.”

  “Not in a pawn shop,” the owner said.

  “So what became of the watch? The guy reclaim it?” I asked.

  “I don’t remember if he did or if someone bought it. That was over thirty years ago. I can check back in Dad’s papers to see what I can find, but I can’t promise anything.”

  Sammy and I left the store dejected that our search had come to this dead end. I could tell from Sammy’s face that he was thinking the same thing I was.

  “It must have been my father who pawned the watch all those years ago, but why? As near as I can figure it was around the time he disappeared.”

  “Maybe he needed the money to leave here?” I said.

  “For the bones in that construction site to be his, he had to go back and claim the watch, but did he? And if not, then whose bones are there? And what was the dead guy doing with my father’s watch on him?” Sammy kicked a stone on the ground in frustration. “I wanted that body to be my father’s. I needed that, so I could stop wondering where he was. I finally had an answer and now I only have more questions.”

  I put my hand on his arm. “We have to go forward. Let’s find the watch and see what that gives us.”

  “Two murders and neither of them seem to be of any interest to the cops.”

  I heard the bitterness in Sammy’s voice.

  “You know Frida’s trying, but she’s handling all the cases in the department because of budget cuts and Linc being out sick.”

  “I know,” Sammy said. “I just want to find out what happened and get the killer or killers who are responsible.”

  I could tell part of Sammy’s disappointment and anger was directed at himself for not being able to track down the watch.

  “At least we know the watch was at Renfro Pawn once, and maybe the owner will find some record of what happened to it. We have other pawn shops we can visit. No one would dare keep a watch that distinctive, not when it would lead back to Walter’s murder. And as you said to Mr. Renfro, it is worth hundreds.”

  Sammy perked up and nodded. “Where to now? I think there are only a few more pawn shops left around here. Should we try them?”

  “Sure.”

  I was almost certain checking the shops in Sabal Bay was a dead end. They were too close to the crime for the person or persons responsible to pawn the watch here. Too much chance someone like Sammy and me would track it down.

  One of the smaller shops had gone out of business. In the other one, the owner hadn’t seen the watch. I was right. A dead end.

  I looked at my watch. It was still early afternoon.

  “Let’s try Stuart. It’s just far enough away that the thief might feel safe trying to unload it there.”

  We sped down the Canopy Road to the coast. I regretted we hadn’t the time to slow down so we could take in the beauty of the live oaks with the Spanish moss hanging off them and their branches arching over the road to form an awning shading us from the hot sun. Still, the drive soothed us so that by the time we reached Stuart, we were both in a more hopeful mood. We first tried all the shops north on Federal Highway to the Roosevelt Bridge. Having had no success, we turned back south. Again, nothing.

  “Let’s go home,” said Sammy.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  Sammy had whipped the truck right into a small strip mall and was about to turn around to pick up the light onto US 1 when I spied a tiny pawn shop tucked into the side of the mall.

  “Wait. Pull in here.” I pointed at the beaten-up sign hanging akilter over the shop door.

  Sammy nosed into a parking space across from the store. At first I thought the store was closed, but when I tried to look in a window so filthy it obscured a view of anything inside the store, I saw an open sign propped on its side in the window on the other side of the door. This looked promising, the kind of place a criminal might want to pawn what he’d taken from a man he killed.

  “This place sure is stuck back here where no one can find it,” Sammy said.

  “Yup. It’s just the place a slimy character would choose to do business in.”

  The dirty window hid a shop filled with merchandise that would have been better taken to the dump. Who would buy this stuff? I asked myself as I strolled by shelves holding broken items, appliances decades old, and tools so rusty no worker would consider using them. The store smelled like aged Parmesan cheese and cooked collard greens. The man behind the counter looked as if he belonged here. His hair was long and oily and his skin was wrinkled in a crosshatch pattern as if he’d been a beach bum until he had found his calling as a shop owner. His rumpled shirt had stains down the front. Gray chest hair sprouted out the top of a yellowed tee beneath the shirt. His pants were equally stained. As I approached, I realized the smells in the shop came from him. The only neat thing about him was his well-trimmed goatee, which was blond in color. I stepped back and let Sammy take the lead.

  “Hep ya?” he asked, then turned away from us and spit a wad of tobacco to one side. I hoped he’d aimed at a can or container, but given the state of his shop and himself, that might be too much to hope for. Okay. Now I got it. His facial hair wasn’t really blond, but yellow from the tobacco, and the teeth he showed when he smiled were just as yellow.

  Sammy didn’t return the smile. My original plan was to let Sammy appear as threatening as possible, and if that didn’t produce any answers, I would sidle up and be nice. I rethought the being nice part. I didn’t want to get any closer to the man.

  Sammy described the watch. The man didn’t react, but reached under the counter. Maybe Sammy had been too scary, and the man thought we were going to rob him. Was he reaching for a gun? No, instead he held out his hand and laid something on the counter.

  “You mean this watch?”

  Chapter 8

  The owner placed the watch in Sammy’s hand, which trembled slightly. He turned it over in his palm to inspect the etching on the cover.

  “It’s his, Eve. It’s my dad’s watch.”

  “Well, now,” said the owner, bending over to spit, “that’s not strictly true. It’s mine, unless the guy comes back to claim it, and if he doesn’t, I sell it.”

  “Tell us about the person who brought this in,” I said.

  The man squinted at me and rubbed his goatee as if grooming it for my benefit.

  “Who wants to know?” he asked.

  “Actually, the police in Sabal Bay would be interested.”

  “You them, are ya?”

  “We work for them. Kind of,” I said.

  “Lemme see some identification.” He held out his hand, which was surprisingly clean. His nails looked as if they had been recently trimmed and buffed. The guy was a bundle of contradictions.

  “We’re not cops. I’m looking for the watch that someone stole from my brother after running him down. The watch belonged to our father, and this is it. I can tell by the etching on the cover.”

  The man’s eyes widened with Sammy’s information. “Stealing and killing. That is serious. Still, I got to protect my customers, so unless you can show me something official, I ain’t gonna say much.”

  I took my cellphone out of my pocket and contacted Frida.

  “Here’s what I got on the watch, Frida.” I told her where we were and that we had found the watch.

  “Good work,
Eve, but there’s not much I can do. I only have Sammy’s word and the phone call from Walter to indicate the watch was taken from that body.”

  “But Frida, those are the only leads you have on the body.”

  “Not the only ones. I’ve got the evidence we gathered at the site.” I heard her sigh and then continue, “Look, I’ll try to get over to the coast later today or tomorrow. Meantime, put the guy on the phone.”

  “Detective Martinez from the Sabal Bay police wants to talk to you.” I handed my cell over.

  He listened, saying nothing, then finally, “Okay, okay, but I think this is gonna take a court order.” He handed the phone back to me.

  “I tried to put a scare into him. I hope I succeeded. You might find him cooperative now. I’ll get more from him later. Thanks, Eve. Good work.” Frida ended the call.

  The owner gave me a defiant look, then stooped to spit. When he stood back up, he smiled and said, “Well, lookee here. The guy’s address fell on the floor. You wanna pick that up for me? My back’s actin’ up.”

  I picked up the pawn tag. The name on it was no surprise—“John Smith,” it read—but the address looked real, and it was in Stuart, only blocks back up Highway 1.

  I handed it back and thanked him for his cooperation.

  “Glad to help the police. I don’t want no trouble with them, you know, but that’s all I’m gonna say for now.”

  “How about a description of the guy?”

  “Nope.” He crossed his scrawny arms.

  I said goodbye, and he gave me a yellow-toothed grin and a wink. “Stop by anytime.”

  I grabbed Sammy’s shirt and pulled him out of the store.

  “Finally,” I said to Sammy as he backed the truck out of the parking space, “our time paid off. Take a left at the light onto the highway. The address should be close to the flea market we sell at on the weekends. Dumb guy. He used a fake name but put down his real address.”

  Dumb me. The address was as fake as the name. It wasn’t a residence, but the address of the flea market itself. Yet another dead end.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Sammy, but there’s no use going back to the pawn shop. We won’t get anything more out of the guy, and he’s on notice now. Frida will take care of it.”

  Sammy said nothing, but he was chewing over the frustrating day. I saw his jaw working as he focused on the road back to Sabal Bay.

  We got back into town in time for me to close the shop as I had promised. Grandy looked up at me when I entered.

  “I’m just cashing out,” she said. “We had a good day. The new merchandise that Shelley and I were able to get out on the floor was popular. Those end tables netted us a good two hundred dollars.” She stopped counting the money and looked up at me. “I can tell from your expression that your day wasn’t quite as successful.”

  I told her about the watch having been pawned years ago at the Renfro shop and that we had found it today on the coast, but there was nothing we could do about it.

  “The owner did let me know the name and address of the guy who pawned it, but they were fake. I think if I had been the cops I might have gotten something more out of him. This story gets more and more confusing. Sammy, like his brother Walter, was so certain the body was their father’s, but if he pawned the watch years ago, how did it get on that body?” My head was spinning with possibilities, but absolutely no certainties.

  I did wonder what would have happened in the pawn shop on the coast if I’d had some kind of official credentials to shove in that owner’s face. Hmm. There were credentials, and then there were credentials. Some were licenses or badges, but others took a more human form.

  “What are you scheming now, Eve?” asked Grandy as we left the shop.

  “I’m thinking we should consider ribs tonight.”

  I know Grandy didn’t believe my interest in ribs took much scheming, but she agreed we should pick up Max at the house and head for the Biscuit.

  “Maybe we should see if Nappi wants to join us. I mean, if he’s around.”

  Grandy brightened. “And there you have it. The scheming thing. When are you going to do it? Can I come along? I haven’t had a good nighttime caper in oh so long.” She was fairly wriggling off the seat in anticipation.

  “What would Max say?” I asked.

  “Oh, he doesn’t mind if I go party without him on occasion.”

  I laughed, dropped the top, punched the accelerator, and we drove off into the fading afternoon light.

  “I didn’t expect to see you so soon after our lunch today,” said Nappi after he had kissed Grandy’s hand in greeting, hugged me, and shook hands with Max.

  “It was a business lunch and too short,” I replied.

  “And this dinner will be dinner with friends?” He looked skeptical.

  “We might throw in a little business,” I said.

  “But only if I can come along,” said Grandy.

  “And where would we be going?” Nappi leaned forward and waggled his brows.

  “How do you feel about pawn shops?”

  “What are we pawning?” he asked.

  “Persuasion,” I replied, and his eyes lit up.

  We finished our ribs and were sipping coffee when my cell rang. I looked at the caller ID and was surprised at the name. “I’ll take this outside.

  “Mr. Cypress. You are a fast worker. What has it been? Less than a day since I gave you my card?”

  “When I see something I want, I like to act on it.”

  “I have a boyfriend, Mr. Cypress.”

  “The grapevine tells me you have recently changed partners due to the death of Mr. Montgomery. And I believe you helped hire a lawyer to represent the boy who did the shooting. Very peculiar.”

  “We don’t run in the same circles, Mr. Cypress, yet you know as much about me as my closest friends do.”

  I heard him chuckle. “I make it my business to know about people I find interesting.”

  “Or peculiar. Let’s get on with it, Mr. Cypress”

  “I like a woman who’s direct, and call me Danny.”

  “Let’s move on. What do you want, Mr. Cypress?”

  “Dinner for two in the Club restaurant. It’s right on the water off Salerno road. Do you know it?”

  Did I? It was the most expensive, most elegant restaurant in that area. I’d jump at the chance to dine there even if it meant I’d have to put up with Danny Cypress for an evening. I knew he wanted to find out through me how much the cops knew about the body uncovered at the construction site. If anyone had a reason for moving what might be Indian remains, it certainly had to be the development company for which Mr. Cypress worked. I knew Frida would want me to seize the chance to pick his brain.

  “Why, I’d love to have dinner with you. When?”

  I heard someone come up to me from the back.

  “Dinner with who?” asked Sammy.

  “Uh, just a minute.” I put my hand over the phone. “Tell you in second.”

  Sammy nodded and stepped into the Biscuit. “Catch you inside.”

  “Hi. Sorry about that. When?”

  “Tomorrow night? Around eight.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you there.”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  “Mr. Cypress, as I told you, and you already know, I have a boyfriend. I don’t need to rub his face in my seeing someone else, even if it is for just one evening.”

  I had every intention of telling Sammy what I was doing, but I wasn’t going to tell Danny Cypress the real reason I didn’t want to get into a car with him: I didn’t trust him. And he made my skin crawl. And did I say I didn’t trust him?

  I ended the call and entered the restaurant to join Sammy and the others.

  “Do I detect some scheming going on?” asked Sammy.

  The man knew me so well.

  “I’ve enlisted Nappi’s help to extract some information from our pawn shop owner on the coast.”

  “And I’m going to come along and hel
p,” Grandy said. “How about you, Sammy? Want to join us?”

  “When is this happening?” asked Sammy. “I’ve got to work at the airboat business tomorrow afternoon. My nephews can’t cover for me. Besides, I can’t ask them to spend so much time doing my work.”

  I knew exactly how Sammy felt. I’d often asked others to jump in and do my work, and with Madeleine caring for her twins, we were already short one worker. Grandy had helped out when she could, but the time would come when she and Max would want to return to Key Largo and their fishing charter business. Shelley was doing her part, but we needed more help.

  “Hey, Evie.” Oh shoot. It was Jerry. I’d thought we might have Nappi to ourselves for the evening without his gofer, my ex-husband Jerry.

  “Don’t call me Evie,” I said. I always said that to Jerry, but he never seemed to understand how much the name irritated me. Or did he? Maybe he liked irritating me.

  “Sorry, Evie, uh, Eve. What’s up?”

  Nappi started to speak, but I butted in. “We’ve got something big we’re planning, and if you’re a good boy, we’ll let you be a part of it.”

  Jerry pumped his arm in the air and yelled, “Yes!” Did I know how to manipulate this guy or what?

  So that was how I got Jerry to take over the shop the following afternoon. It wasn’t the role he had wanted, and it wasn’t a permanent solution to our need for extra help, but it would do for just this once.

  “You’ve done this before, so I don’t have to run through what your responsibilities are, do I?” I asked Jerry the next afternoon as Nappi, Grandy, and I gathered in the shop before heading to the coast.

  “Ah, Evie, honey, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

  “Don’t call me—”

  “This is important, Jerry,” Nappi broke in. “Eve needs you here so we can find out who pawned that watch.”

  “I don’t understand why that’s my job,” Jerry whined.

  “Because you have a way with the ladies, Jerry,” I said. “You can sell better than any of us.”

  “Even you?” He sounded doubtful.