Mud Bog Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

  I recognized two of the names. One was Shelley’s neighbor, Clay Archer. No surprise there, since swampy land stretched across both the McCleary and Archer properties. The other familiar name was my old friend Jay Cassidy. No wonder he was so steamed at my taking part in the protest. If things had turned out differently, Madeleine and I might have been protesting on his land. I was disappointed in Jay. He was a big rancher with many head of cattle, and he was breeding ponies for polo. The man was rolling in money. What did he need a mud bog racing event for? I needed to talk with Jay. And the others.

  “Like our neighbors, we want to make money, Mr. Johnson,” I said, “though not at the cost of our land. We understand we have to ready the property for the event, but we want a company who’s willing to work with us after the event.”

  “Well, it seems damn stupid to set up a mud bog race then put the property back the way it was. What if you want to rent it out again in a few months?”

  “Crop rotation,” I said.

  “Huh?” Johnson said.

  “Never mind. I think we have what we need.” I got up and moved toward the door. Nappi followed.

  In the elevator, Nappi said, “I don’t think he liked you. The chances of his doing business with us is nil.”

  “Well, we really don’t want to do business with him anyway, do we? And don’t be so sure about that. If we put in a low bid to host the event, I bet he would jump at it.”

  Nappi shrugged. “Well, we know now that his company is the only one doing mud bog racing in our area, and we got the names of potential competitors for hosting the event. I guess the visit was worth it.” He paid the fee to the garage attendant, and we pulled back out onto the street.

  “Oh, I think we got more than that. That slimy jerk gave me an idea for how to hold the events and honor the land.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched a knowing smile light up his face. “Crop rotation,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “That didn’t take long. What did you bring back?” Madeleine hung several new consignment shirts on a round in the motor home, rolled her eyes at me, and gestured with her head toward the dressing room at the back of the rig.

  I was so wrapped up in what we’d found that I missed the significance of her signal.

  “Nothing, but we found out who else was interested in hosting the mud bog races other than Jenny.”

  The door to the dressing room opened, and Frida walked out. “So you found out those names, did you? I guess you figured I wouldn’t tell you, and you were right. You just can’t stay out of my murder investigations, can you, Eve? And I guess you’ve pulled everyone around you into this one too.”

  Well, not everyone. Not Alex.

  There was no point in pleading innocent. Frida was right. Grandy, Nappi, Madeleine, and I had formed an unofficial posse in this case and formed a plan of action. Anyway, why not? After all, Madeleine and I were suspects in Jenny’s murder.

  “Jenny’s ex-fiancé called the station and told my boss that I sent you out there to pump him for information because the two of you were “old friends.” I didn’t know that, did I, Eve? And I certainly didn’t send you out there to interrogate him. We’re only days into this case and already you’re making trouble for me.” Frida walked up to the counter with several dresses in her hand.

  “Find something you like, Detective?” Madeleine said in her sweetest voice.

  “I did. I shouldn’t do this, but I’m buying this dress. Fits like it was made for me. How can I turn it down? But I’m not fooled for a minute by you, missy. You’re as bad as your partner here. And please don’t offer me a ten percent discount on merchandise because I’m an officer of the law. Under the circumstances, it’ll sound like a bribe.”

  “It does look nice on you, Frida,” said Grandy.

  “Don’t you bounce your silver curls at me, lady. You’re the one who taught them all this snoopy-snoop stuff.”

  Frida paid her money, grabbed the bag with her dress in it, and exited the shop. I could hear the tires of her cruiser spit gravel as she sped out of the market parking lot.

  “She’s hot,” said Grandy.

  “You could have warned me, Madeleine,” I said.

  “I did. I nodded toward the dressing room.”

  “Oh, big signal.”

  “Girls, girls,” interrupted Nappi, “let’s not fight among ourselves.”

  “What’s going on here?” Madeleine’s husband David stepped into the shop.

  “Oh, nothing,” Madeleine said.

  David’s gaze traveled from Nappi, to Madeleine, to Grandy, and finally settled on me. I do not do innocent looks well, not even when I have nothing to be guilty about.

  “What the hell. You might as well know too. Everyone else does,” I said.

  Madeleine shook her head in warning.

  I ignored this one too and told David what Nappi and I had been up to.

  He said nothing for a minute; then a red flush began to work its way up his face.

  He pinned Madeleine with his look. “Okay, that’s it. From now on, you’ll stay at home, out of the line of fire, out of Eve’s interference in this case.”

  Madeleine stepped up to David and stood toe to toe with him. “David Wilson, as much as I love you, you are truly an idiot. You should know better than to think Eve is the only one who likes a bit of snooping and who has ideas about how to do it. Do not order me around.”

  Her blue eyes were snapping with displeasure. I knew from experience it was better not to cross little Eve Boudreau when she went for something.

  “But you’re pregnant,” he said.

  “Right, but being pregnant doesn’t mean I’m giving up my life. I still have some say in what I do.”

  He was smart enough to keep any comeback to himself. I was certain this argument would be continued at home.

  “Well, look at the time!” I pointed at my watch. “I’ll take over the shop this afternoon. You go on home, Madeleine, and, uh, do whatever.”

  “First I want to stop by the other shop and see how the renovations are coming. I want to reconsider the paint color we picked for the walls. And wasn’t the inspector supposed to be here today?”

  “About that, ”I said, and told her the story.

  Chapter 11

  Madeleine took the news about the shop quite well. Or maybe she was just speechless with shock. Anyway, she asked David to take her straight home. If she weren’t pregnant, I think she might have imbibed a strong gin and tonic.

  It was up to me to find someone, anyone in the area who was willing to do electrical and plumbing work for two Yankee women—murder suspects as well as demonstrators against individual property use. That wouldn’t be easy. And there was wall construction and painting and sanding the floors and …. And I had to find the money to pay them to boot. I felt a headache coming on, and after I’d called all the firms in the phone book with no luck, it bloomed into a doozie.

  “I can help,” offered Nappi. “I can call in someone from West Palm.”

  “I can do that, but there isn’t a chance in hell I could afford them.”

  “I …” Nappi began.

  I held up my finger for him to stop talking. “I know what you’re going to say. We’ve had this conversation before. Forget it. Anyway, it’s time to shut down for the day. I need a break. And a Scotch.” I gazed out of the windows of the rig toward the sun, now low in the afternoon sky.

  “I can give Grandy a ride home if you have something else to do,” Nappi offered.

  “I’m cooking tonight, chicken piccata. What do you say to that, Nappi?” Grandy collected her purse and started down the steps of the rig.

  “Great, but I promised Jerry I would have dinner with him.”

  Grandy sighed. “Invite him. If he’s stuffing his face, we won’t have to listen to him say something ridiculous or moan about his lack of a love life.”

  I thought about the chicken piccata, my favorite. The mental image of tender chicken c
utlets and flavorful lemon sauce made me drool. But then so did the thought of a canoe ride in the swamps with Sammy.

  I would have preferred a quiet dinner with only Grandy and me. I was already anticipating moonlight reflecting off the water’s surface with just Sammy and me, some frogs, a gator or two, and no one else to bother our solitude. Surely my dreamy expression would give me away to everyone at the table. And I wasn’t ready to share my plans for the evening yet.

  Nappi said he’d take Grandy food shopping while I snugged up the rig for the night.

  My cell rang minutes after they left.

  It was Sammy. “You haven’t changed your mind about spending time under the moon with me, have you?”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  “How was your day?”

  I told him about the problems in the shop and my visit with Nappi to the mud bog racing firm in West Palm.

  “I think I may be able to help you with the shop.”

  “You’re not going to offer me money too, are you?”

  I heard laughter on the other end. “I have no money, you know that, but I do have connections.”

  “I don’t think you’re in any better position to convince the construction firms around here to work for me than I am.”

  “Not most of the firms, but I do have pull with one of them. It’s a Miccosukee company run by a relative of mine.”

  “Bonded and licensed?” I asked.

  “Of course. And he’s very reasonable. If I asked, he might be willing to work on the weekend and charge you the usual rate, not overtime.”

  “Oh, Sammy. You are a real peach.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  “You think I’m sweet and juicy?” He sounded puzzled.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Well, you seem to think I should view that as a positive, so I will. I’ll pick you up around eight at your house.”

  “Why don’t I meet you at the airboat landing?”

  Again there was a pause.

  “Okay. Fine. At the landing.”

  Did Sammy think I didn’t want anyone to know we were getting together? He was correct, of course. I wasn’t ready to talk about him to anyone. Not just yet.

  We disconnected. I hummed a happy little tune and leaned against the passenger side window of the rig. A flash of something in the late afternoon sunlight caught my eye, and I leaned to my right to get a better look.

  The window exploded and glass flew into the rig.

  I slid to the floor. What was happening? My cell was still in my hand, a very bloody hand as it turned out.

  Frida showed up minutes after I called her.

  “You’re covered in blood. I called the EMTs, and they’ll be here soon. Meantime let’s make sure you didn’t sever an artery or something.”

  I could hear the sirens of the emergency vehicles on the road. I looked down at my arms and saw tiny shards of glass twinkling on my bloody skin. Then I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. Every place my skin was exposed, blood bloomed and tiny pieces of glass stuck out. My fingers reached out to extract one of the splinters and suddenly the room turned green. The next thing I knew, someone was leaning over me, telling me to breathe into a mask he held over my nose.

  I struggled to sit up. Frida and the EMT lifted me into a sitting position on the rig’s couch.

  “I called Grandy and got her while she was in the store. She’ll be right here and follow the ambulance to the hospital. Meantime I’m going to take a look around to see if I can determine where that shot came from.” Frida patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Lonnie here will take good care of you.”

  I looked up at Lonnie, the EMT tending me. He gave me a wink of encouragement. “I think these are all superficial cuts. No arteries involved. You may need a few stitches, that’s all.”

  I looked at my arms and hands again, but this time, the world around me didn’t spin, and it retained its normal non-green color.

  “Maybe I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

  Lonnie and another EMT shifted me from the couch to a stretcher.

  “Trust me, Eve honey, it’s better to get everything checked out.” Grandy’s face came into view.

  “Naw, I’m fine. Just a few scratches. See?” I raised up off the stretcher and tried to show her my arm. My world clouded over again—tinged with yellowish green and viewed through tunnel vision.

  Lonnie nodded. “Told ya. Lie back. We’ll even turn on the siren for you.”

  “Do you know I’ve spent more time in the emergency room here in the few years I’ve been in Sabal Bay than the rest of my life put together?” I said to the emergency room doctor stitching up a cut on my cheek.

  “I, for one, am not surprised by that,” said Grandy. “You have a way of attracting trouble in these parts.”

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Around seven thirty,” said Grandy. “Why? You got a date or something?”

  From the look on her face, I could tell she wasn’t kidding. She did think I had a date. Now how could she know that? She was as psychic as Grandfather Egret. The mere thought of the man must have caused a ripple in Sabal Bay’s energy field because Grandfather floated into my line of sight. Behind him stood Sammy. I knew I hadn’t taken a blow to the head, so why was I hallucinating?

  “Eve, my dear, I hope this is nothing serious.” Grandfather Egret reached out and took my hand, massaging it with a tender touch. No, I was not imagining his presence. He was here and very real. And Sammy stood beside him with a look of concern on his face.

  I signaled to Grandfather Egret and whispered in his ear, “I’m wearing the talisman you gave me. I’m never without it.” I showed him the tiny rawhide bag on a leather thong around my neck. My good luck charm from Grandfather had gotten me through some difficult times, including a run-in with the Russian mob.

  To everyone else I said, “I’m just fine. Nothing serious at all.”

  “You would be wrong. It is serious,” said Frida. “Someone took a shot at you. I found a thirty-thirty cartridge on the ground over by the produce stand.”

  “The most common rifle used around here,” added Sammy. “Almost every cowboy carries a thirty-thirty. Good for feral hogs, rattlers, and—”

  “People,” Frida broke in.

  “Couldn’t it have been a mistake? Someone firing a rifle at something else?” I asked.

  Frida wrinkled her nose. “What? Like the booth selling used books or the rug shop in the market? I don’t think so. There’s nothing but your rig on that trajectory. I’m just guessing here, but knowing you, Eve, I’ve got to think that your snooping around in Jenny’s death has made someone very uncomfortable. Why can’t you just leave things to the professionals?” She sounded both aggravated and worried.

  The aggravation I got. I had been snooping, but I just couldn’t help myself, especially since both Madeleine and I had caught the attention of the authorities looking into Jenny’s murder, thanks to our presence at the demonstration. I was confident Frida didn’t suspect us—she knew better—but she had to do her job, and her boss, as well as others in the police department, weren’t so convinced of our innocence. I was just itching to get us off the hook and find the bastard who killed Jenny. I was touched by Frida’s concern for my safety. If I were any kind of a friend, I would back off out of respect for her work and to reassure her of my well-being.

  Tell that to my impulsive and nosy nature.

  The doctor working on my face cleared his throat. “Uh, could all of you step back while I finish up here?” He signaled to a nurse, who moved my visitors out of the area and drew a curtain around the doctor and me.

  “There we go,” he said, cutting off the suture thread. “That shouldn’t leave a scar, or maybe only a small one.”

  For a moment I envisioned myself with a slash across my cheek and wondered if it would lend my face character or simply scare the bejesus out of anyone who met me. No scar? Maybe that was just as
well. I kind of thought my face had enough character already.

  Several minutes later, carrying a paper with instructions on post-emergency care and several prescriptions for drugs to aid in the healing process, I walked out of my snug little cubicle to find my support group hovering near the entrance of the emergency room. They greeted me with a collective gasp.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry, folks,” said my doctor. “That’s mostly disinfectant. But she’s going to be a mess of cuts, purple, black and yellow bruises, and stitches for a while. Then she’ll be back to her old self.”

  “Great. Back to her old, interfering self,” muttered Frida as she headed for her SUV.

  Grandy put her arms around me. “Let’s get you home to bed.”

  I shook my head. “I was promised a ride in a canoe in the moonlight, and I want my ride.” My voice grew louder and shriller at the end of my sentence, and I felt close to tears. I was far from back to my old self.

  “A ride on the water? Now? She must be in shock,” said Nappi. “Let’s get her home.”

  “No way!” I didn’t so much say this as shout it. Everyone in the emergency room turned their heads toward my group.

  Sammy stepped forward. “Let me handle this for now.” He took my arm and led me out of the hospital toward his truck. “I’ll get her back home in good shape. Don’t worry,” he called back to Grandy and Nappi.

  Grandfather Egret slid into the backseat of their truck while Sammy helped me into the passenger seat.

  As we drove toward the lake, Grandfather leaned forward and said into my ear, “I’m glad you put trust in your talisman, but beware, Eve. It cannot ward off all harm, and I feel there are particularly strong forces of destruction around you now.”