Mud Bog Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “Never, my dear,” Nappi said. “You are the ultimate in lady-ness.”

  We both broke into laughter, knowing that was not true. I might have been the ultimate in mouthiness or impulsivity, but no one would ever call me ladylike.

  “I think they eat in secret so as not to ruin their ladylike images,” I said.

  I spied a rancher I knew coming out of the bar area. “Jay, Jay Cassidy!” I called to him. He was accompanied by several men, one whom I’d met earlier at the McCleary ranch. I couldn’t remember his name, but I remembered his face. Where earlier there had been a flirtatious smile on it, now there was none. I assumed the others in the group were ranch owners like Jay. Jay hesitated and looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t want to acknowledge my greeting. Funny that, for a guy who had helped me out in a number of tight spots. I considered him a friend, and if Alex hadn’t been in the picture, he might have considered me more than a friend. What was going on with him tonight?

  He walked over to our table with a grim look on his face.

  “I guess you heard about Jenny McCleary,” I said, thinking her death might be on his mind and responsible for his demeanor.

  He nodded.

  “Can you sit for a bit?” I gestured at the empty chair across from me.

  He shuffled his feet around and his look of discomfort deepened.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I really like you, Eve—you know that—and I don’t even care that you’re a Yankee, but when y’all begin to interfere with what we folks down here do with our land, well …. Those mud bog races would have brought a lot of money into this town, but then one of you protesters decided to stop it by killing Jenny. Well, you’ve stopped the races for now. I know you weren’t responsible for her death, but I hope to God you don’t know the person who was.”

  He tipped his hat to me, spun on his boot heels, and left.

  The rancher I’d met at McCleary’s stepped up to the table, and I remembered his name.

  “Mr. Archer, I assume you feel the same as Jay.”

  “I told you earlier I’d heard about you around town, and when you asked me whether it was good, I said it depends.” He paused.

  “And the protest is what it depends on, right?”

  “Right. It would be smart if you didn’t stick your nose into what’s not your business.” He nodded and followed Jay out the door. He didn’t seem quite as attractive as he had earlier. The other men didn’t bother to acknowledge our presence as they left.

  Nappi said nothing, but put down the rib he was eating and took a sip of beer.

  “Not everyone can feel this way,” I said, “but I’m shocked that Jay does. I thought he was my friend.”

  “I suspect some people here will find it difficult being your friend now.”

  It was what Madeleine and I had talked about before taking part in the protest. Our stance on mud bog racing would matter, and it might impact our business. I hoped Jay and his friends didn’t hold the majority opinion around here. After all, Jenny had known I was against her using the land for the races, and she hadn’t held it against me.

  “Can’t friends have different views on religion or politics or land use?” I asked Nappi.

  “Some friends can. Like you and me. But this is about money, Eve. And money is a strong persuader that can lead people to take steps you might not understand or like.” Nappi patted his lips with his napkin. How could the guy be so neat eating ribs? I looked at my wrists, covered in sauce.

  “But we—” I started to say.

  “You and I are unusual. And we never talk about how I make my living.”

  I nodded.

  “You and Madeleine are about to find out how much your protesting will cost you in this community. In dollars, Eve.”

  I nodded. He was right. “In that case, you may have to wait on our repaying you for the motor home.”

  “I know that.” He reached out and patted my hand.

  I picked up my last rib and looked at it, then tossed it back onto my plate. Somehow I’d lost my appetite. “By the way,” I said, “what do you think of our joining the protesters this morning?”

  Before Nappi could answer, a shadow crossed my plate. I looked up and into the eyes of Alex.

  “Oh, hi there.”

  “We need to talk, Eve,” Alex said.

  That seemed to be Alex’s favorite line. Well, maybe it was time we did talk about us.

  Nappi pushed his chair back from the table. “I just caught sight of one of my business associates. I think now would be a good time to buy him a drink.” Nappi gave me a knowing smile and left.

  “I don’t trust that guy, even though you do,” said Alex, dropping into the chair beside mine.

  “If you are sincere about us talking, that’s not the way to begin the conversation. Nappi’s proven his worth as a friend over and over again.”

  I observed a look of anger briefly cross Alex’s face, but then he seemed to think better of getting his hackles up.

  “Sorry Eve. Look, here’s the thing …. I know I’ve been pushing you too hard about our relationship, and I understand why you’re so gun-shy about involvement. Jerry, much as I consider him a real great guy, isn’t commitment material, as you well know. He hurt you pretty bad with all his philandering. I get that. But you know I’m not Jerry. I’m your true blue guy, even though I can’t be there for you every time you need me. Like when someone dumps you into the swamps and leaves you for dead or when someone drives your car off the road, but …” he continued to talk, but my mind wandered off to those horrible events and all I could picture was the way Sammy Egret came to my rescue those times, getting us out of the swamp and calling the ambulance when my car was run off the road. Good old Sammy. Tall, sexy, dark, understanding Sammy ….

  “Eve! Hey, what the hell are you smiling about?” Alex’s voice interrupted my dreams of dark eyes and smoky gazes penetrating my soul. I sighed and turned my attention to what Alex was saying. I was being unkind, and I knew it.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. I guess this day has been too much for me.” I reached out and put my hand on his arm. That seemed to placate him for a moment. But weren’t we going down a road we’d traveled so many times before? What was different now?

  “So here’s what I’m thinking, Eve. I think we need to make a real commitment to each other, so you’ll know I’m serious about my feelings for you.” At this point Alex got out of his chair and dropped to one knee.

  Oh, God, no. He wasn’t going to ask me …. Was he?

  He pulled out a small box from his jacket pocket, popped it open with one finger and presented it to me. “So how about it, Eve. Will you marry me?”

  At the same moment another shadow crossed my plate. Sammy.

  “I thought I saw you over here. I wanted to stop by and tell you about Frida’s ….” Sammy must have noticed Alex on one knee and the glitter of the ring in his hand.

  “Oh, gosh. I’m interrupting, aren’t I? I’m sorry.”

  We both looked up at Sammy. Alex got to his feet and slipped the box back into his pocket. “No, I guess you won’t,” he said, turned, and left.

  I reflected for a brief moment on what I was feeling. Shouldn’t I have wanted to yell at Sammy, then run after Alex? But that wasn’t what I wanted at all. Instead I was profoundly relieved to have avoided the need to reply to Alex’s question. I also realized I was unsettled by Alex’s proposal and what it would mean to be married again. I was at the edge of uncertainty, an comfortable spot for someone like me. I had not handled Alex’s proposal well. I owed him more than I gave him.

  Chapter 6

  “Wait here, Sammy,” I said and ran after Alex. I caught him just as he slammed his car door.

  “Alex.” I put my arm through the driver’s side window and touched his cheek.

  He stiffened at the contact.

  “You didn’t answer my question, Eve.”

  “And I’m not going to, not under these conditions. You can’t r
eally believe that I had Sammy show up to ruin a marriage proposal I never saw coming, can you?”

  He laughed—an unhappy sound—and in the light from the streetlamp, I saw the bitterness on his face.

  “But that’s just it, isn’t it, Eve? How could you be so surprised at my proposal? You know how I feel about you.”

  “And you know I care for you, too. But I’m not ready to make a commitment, and it’s not your fault. Nothing you do will change my fear of marrying again. This is something I need to work out. Can you understand that?”

  His shoulders slumped, and his eyed bored into the steering wheel as if the answer to our problems would be found hiding there.

  “I guess. I’m just so crazy about you that I don’t want to lose you. Not to Sammy, not to anyone. You’re right. I should have known better. Jerry told me—”

  “Jerry? You talked to Jerry about this proposal?”

  “Well, kind of. He was married to you. I thought he might have some insight. He told me not to do this.”

  “You should have listened. For once, he was right on the money.” I slapped the side of his car and turned back toward the building. How could he have run this proposal by Jerry, the husband who betrayed me? Really, how could he run something like this past anyone besides me?

  “Eve,” I heard him say.

  I faced him again. “Look, Alex, my day has been devastating. You don’t seem to get it, do you? We’ll talk, but not now. I need to decompress.”

  That was what it felt like, as if the pressure was building inside me to the point where I’d blow like an overinflated tire. Bang!

  Back in the bar, I headed for the ladies’ room and threw water on my face. When I looked in the mirror, my skin was bright red and my mouth was set in a tight white line. My teeth were beginning to hurt from all the grinding.

  I walked back to our table to find Nappi sitting there, his smile tremulous.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t hurt you. I feel fine now. Really.” I sunk into a chair.

  I looked at my place setting. My plate was gone.

  “I wasn’t sure you would be coming back so I sent Sammy away and had the waitress remove your ribs. They were cold anyway.”

  “Right. I think I need to go home.”

  After Nappi dropped me off, I hurried into the house without saying good night and headed for the bathroom, where I threw up all my dinner. Some of the tension dissipated, and I felt better. At least this horrible day was over.

  I awoke later that night with a taste in my mouth as foul as if I’d licked one of those highly toxic toads we have down here, and with a feeling someone was watching me. I opened one eye, certain I was gripped by a nightmare that would go away as soon as I awoke. It didn’t. There was someone standing over my bed and blinking didn’t make the figure go away.

  “Uh, Eve, don’t be frightened. It’s Sammy. Your front door was unlocked. I tried calling from the gas station up the road, but you didn’t pick up, so I came on in.”

  “Go away, Sammy. I’ve haven’t had a chance to brush my teeth.” I rolled over to face the wall. My hand hit the bedside stand, and I knocked the phone onto the floor with a crash.

  “I think your phone was out of the cradle. Didn’t you hear that insistent buzzing sound? It’s really unpleasant.”

  “Not as unpleasant as the sound of the buzzing coming from inside my skull.” I sat up in bed and switched on the light.

  Sammy jumped backward. “Whoa!”

  “Do I look that bad?” I got out of bed and walked toward the mirror over my dresser. If I thought I’d set a new standard for ugliness in the ladies’ room mirror last night at the Biscuit, this was much worse. Mascara had migrated from my lashes southward in a long stream, dried now on my cheeks, and my face looked as if I’d buttered it with margarine.

  “Are you sick?” Sammy asked.

  “Sort of.”

  “Maybe I can take care of this myself then.”

  “Take care of what? Something important must be up for you to break into my house and invade my bedroom.”

  “There was no breaking or invading. Like I said, the door was open. I yelled your name, but got no answer. I thought something bad happened to you. I was worried.”

  Oh, crap. I must have been in such a state last night that I forgot to lock the door. I was lucky it was Sammy who came in.

  I leaned into the mirror to get a better look at the wreckage that was my face. “What’s going on that can’t wait until morning?” Until I’m once more my sassy self, I didn’t add.

  “I was heading out to the hunting ranch early and drove by your new shop. Or your old shop—I mean, the shop you and Madeleine will be moving into—and I saw lights on.”

  Oh, no. Not the shop. Just when I thought we’d be back in permanent, non-mobile digs soon.

  “So you called the cops, right?”

  Sammy said nothing.

  “No cops. And why not?”

  In vain I looked around the room for my cell.

  “I know you don’t like the police right now after spending so much time with them yesterday, but that would have been the wise thing to do. And where the hell is my cell? Does that land line work?”

  Sammy handed me the phone I had knocked to the floor. In two pieces.

  “Let me wash my face, and we’ll go.” I looked down at my body. The body had to be in better shape than the face, right? I was still wearing my clothes. Even my shoes.

  Something was happening to Sammy’s lips. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Sammy Egret! My night was hell.”

  Shaking his head, he assumed a more serious expression, turned away, and headed toward the kitchen to make coffee.

  I detoured into the bathroom and washed up. Then I heard some kind of gurgling, choking noise coming from him.

  “You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Better lock up.”

  “You think some other Miccosukee might come snooping in here?”

  I grabbed my purse off the couch to get my keys. My cell fell out on the carpet, and when I picked it up, I noticed it needed recharging.

  I pulled up a block away from the store, Sammy in his truck behind me. We approached from the alleyway that ran alongside the building. Like my house tonight, the door to the shop also stood open, but there were no lights on inside.

  “I don’t know what those lights could have been, but someone would have had to pull the breaker to get juice,” I said.

  “Someone with a flashlight, maybe,” said Sammy.

  “We could use one of those things right now. Did you think to bring one?”

  “In my truck. I’ll be back.” Sammy turned around and soundlessly ran down the alleyway.

  “Don’t leave me here,” I whispered, but he was out of earshot.

  Scared, Eve? a voice chided me from inside my head. Nope, I replied silently and swung the half-open door wide. I heard a sound from within, a kind of rustling that stopped suddenly.

  “Hello?” I called. “I called the police, and they’re on their way.” But I hadn’t called the cops, had I? Oh, stupid me.

  I listened for a moment, then stepped inside the door. “I think I hear the sirens now.”

  Nothing.

  I took a tentative step forward, then another. The rustling sound again. “They’re in the next block. Here they come around the corner.”

  Another step, then another and finally my feet hit some impediment. I nudged whatever it was and heard a rustling again.

  Sammy came up behind me and clicked on the flashlight.

  “Better move your foot, Eve, before that alligator takes a bite out of your favorite boots.”

  The alligator’s eyes peered up at us for a moment, and then the animal hissed and dashed for the far corner of the shop where it stood its ground, tail swishing back and forth, hissing sounds emanating from its open mouth.

  “Looks like he could use some orthodontia,” I said. The joke fell flat, my voice qu
avering with fear.

  “Let’s just back up slowly and leave. I’ll pull the door behind us.” Sammy grabbed my hand and led me toward the exit.

  “What? And leave an alligator in my store?”

  “What damage can he do?”

  “Do alligators poop? I’ll bet they do. I’ll never get the smell out.”

  “It’ll only be for a few more minutes … or hours at most. Let’s drive to the police station and tell them what we found.”

  I hesitated, but what could I do?

  At the police station, we got the sad news that someone, and not the officers on duty, would have to remove the animal before they would enter the scene.

  “We’re police, lady. We don’t do wildlife rescue.”

  “I don’t want the thing ‘rescued.’ I want it removed. It’s in my store.”

  “Well, we can’t get anyone out there until morning. What can the thing do trapped in the store? Are you afraid it won’t like the décor?” The officer, a guy I’d never met before, looked as if he could run for Southern good ol’ boy sheriff. He was almost bald and had—you guessed it—combed several strands of hair that grew a few inches above his right ear over to the left side of his head. His protruding stomach almost hid his belt and holster.

  “Can I borrow your phone?” I asked.

  “Help self.” He turned away, still chuckling at his own joke.

  “Hi, Frida. Sorry to wake you, but I’ve got a problem here.” Before she could hang up on me, I explained what was happening.

  “Unless there was a murder in your store tonight, I can’t help you. I’m a homicide detective. Even if the alligator is guilty, it’s still not my department. Call game and wildlife in the morning.” She hung up on me.

  So Sammy and I went back to my place. We stopped by the store to check on the alligator. Still there. Still kind of pissed. This time we noticed the lock was broken and the door couldn’t be secured, but who cared? I had an alligator guarding the place.

  Nappi called early the next morning to see how I was doing. When I told him about the events of the night before, he wanted to take the blame for everything and jumped in his car to be on my doorstep with coffee and pastries in ten minutes.