Mud Bog Murder

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “I hope you didn’t expect something Miccosukee, but I love pastrami on rye,” said Sammy’s mother.

  “Anything food is fine with me, Mrs. Egret,” I said, and to show it was, I took a big bite out of my sandwich.

  “Call me Renata.”

  We had just finished our lunch when my cell rang.

  “Eve? Hi, it’s Jerry. I know Sammy and you are having lunch together. Could I talk to him? The airboat broke down, and I can’t get it started. We have a line of unhappy women here wanting a ride.”

  I gave Sammy the phone. He listened for a while, then disconnected and handed it back to me.

  “Sorry, gals, but I’ve got to get back to the airboat business. Boat’s down.”

  “You go on ahead, honey,” Renata said. “Eve can bring me back to Grandfather’s house later. We’ll stay here and soak up the sun for a few more minutes.” She turned to me. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  I knew what she really meant was that we could have a private chat. I was certain it would be about Sammy and me, and I was not eager to be interrogated by Renata Egret concerning my relationship with her son. However, I smiled and said, “No. I could use a little sun.”

  We watched Sammy drive off in his pickup, and an uncomfortable silence fell between us.

  After we both stared off into the lake for several minutes, I finally decided it was best to get this over with.

  “You must be curious about Sammy and me.”

  “Not at all.”

  I was shocked.

  “I may not have the sixth sense of a Miccosukee like Grandfather, but there’s nothing puzzling about Sammy and you. He’s obviously in love with you.”

  “That can’t be. We’re just friends.” Were we? After that hot encounter on Grandfather Egret’s porch, we were certainly more than friends.

  “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t even realize it yet. He knows something is different about his feelings for you, but he’d never label it ‘love.’ He’s telling himself you’re interesting, different, and he’d like to get you into his bed. Still, as honest a man as he is, my son is not honest with himself about his emotions. I thought you might like a heads up. Please don’t break his heart. If you can’t feel the same about him, then be good enough to back off from this involvement. I don’t think Sammy has ever felt this way about a woman.”

  Since she was being so honest with me, I owed her the same.

  “I just got out of a relationship because, well, I think I’m relationship-phobic. My marriage was a disaster. I trusted Jerry for no good reason. The only positive thing to come out of it was that now I’m better at telling the good guys from the bad guys. That doesn’t seem to help me make a commitment.”

  She sipped the last of her root beer and placed the bottle in the garbage bag on the picnic table. “Sammy told me about Alex. He seems like one of the good guys, like my son. And Sammy likes him, respects his work. Sammy has some trust issues also, so if you decide to get more involved with him, it won’t be easy.”

  I thought about Sammy’s reluctance to talk about his father and wondered if that’s where the problem was.

  “Sammy won’t answer any of my questions about his father. Why not?”

  She hesitated. Was she going to stonewall me also?

  “He can’t.”

  I waited.

  “He doesn’t know where his father is. None of us do.”

  Chapter 19

  “How can that be? How can no one know where Sammy’s father is?”

  Renata sighed deeply. “This isn’t easy to talk about, but I guess it’s my fault. I was a rebellious teen. I hated school, hung out with a bad group of kids who were into petty theft, shoplifting, stuff like that, and of course, drugs. I stayed out late, played hooky from school, never studied, and bad-mouthed my teachers. My parents couldn’t control me. I wasn’t a bad kid really, but my mom and dad were very conservative. They thought they could set up strict rules, and I should obey. I ran away at age sixteen with a boy who was only a year older than me. He abandoned me when we got to Kissimmee, and I never heard from him again. I worked as a waitress in a diner for over a year until this tall, dark Miccosukee came in—Lionel Egret, Sammy’s father. I think I was looking for someone to rescue me from the dead-end life I’d gotten myself into. In my book, he was an exotic Native American I couldn’t wait to take home and shove in my parents’ faces. I knew they’d disapprove.” She paused and laughed.

  “Yeah, I’d stayed in touch with my parents, who had all but given up on me. I hadn’t given up on them. I needed something to rebel against. They were still it, so I dragged him back home with me to Iowa. The reaction of the small community I was from was even more dramatic than my parents’. My new husband and I stayed there for one night, then headed back to Florida and the tribe. By the time we’d been married for half a year and I was five months pregnant, it was clear to both of us that our marriage was a mistake—we were too different. We hung in there anyway. The day after Sammy was born, his father took the airboat out into the swamps, and no one ever heard from him again. The tribe blamed me for his disappearance. Sammy has somehow blamed himself for his father leaving.”

  “Do you think he’s—”

  “Dead? I don’t know. You know Grandfather. He says the swamp takes things away and sometimes returns them. He also believes that to be true of people who go into the swamp. If Lionel is not dead, I wish for Sammy’s sake he’d show himself. Then maybe Sammy could off-load his guilt.”

  “And then you left, too?” I couldn’t keep the disapproval out of my voice. How could she do that to Sammy after he’d lost his father? Did Sammy blame himself for her leaving too?

  “I wasn’t happy here, and the tribe wasn’t going to help me adjust to being an outsider. I knew I should leave for Sammy’s sake. I was making my son unhappy with my own misery. When Sammy turned five, Grandfather came to me and told me he had a dream about a desert and a tall, white woman living there. He said it was a message—that the woman was me, I was content there, and Sammy’s face was once again filled with laughter.”

  “So Grandfather’s dream led you away from the tribe and Sammy?” I wondered if she was telling me the truth or if she wanted to make it appear that her leaving was not only her idea but condoned by Grandfather.

  “I don’t know if Grandfather really dreamed that or used it to make me finally exit without remorse, with a clear conscience.” She shook her head. “You know Grandfather. He’s a mixture of the old and the new.”

  I showed her the amulet I wore around my neck. “He gave it to me to wear for protection. Maybe I’m just lucky or I only think it works, but the one time I got into real trouble—and that was with a Cape buffalo—was when I didn’t have it on me. Since then I’ve never left it behind.”

  “Grandfather may only be lucky with his pronouncements, but I always listen to him.”

  “You like him, then? You don’t blame him for making you leave?’

  “I knew he wanted me gone. He was right in what he said about Sammy’s unhappiness. Sammy is at home here, and he wouldn’t have been if he’d gone with me or if I’d stayed here. Do I like Grandfather? He’s kind and wise, and he sees through into my soul. I had a very angry and untrustworthy soul back then.”

  “Is it better now?”

  “Much. But Grandfather knows I was responsible for his son’s disappearance. Though he’s forgiven me, he still doesn’t trust me. It’s hard to like someone who knows how capable you are of evil.”

  “I wouldn’t call what you did ‘evil.’ You were hardly more than a kid.”

  “I knew what I was doing. It was adolescent rebellion. For Sammy’s father, it was love, a love I couldn’t fully return.” She stared into my eyes as if trying to determine if I understood what she was telling me. It wasn’t just about her and Sammy’s father. It was about Sammy and me. He was in love while I was trying to work out who I was, whether I loved anyone other than Grandy. If I could trust anyone. Who did I tru
st and love—really love? There was Grandy and Madeleine, people I knew inside and out, people I tried to treat well. Even if I sassed them, I always felt bad later. And always had to apologize. I should learn to think first before I hurt people I love. Renata saw herself in me. She was right, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to blame an adolescent identity crisis for anything that happened between Sammy and me. I was an adult and responsible for my actions. I got it. I needed to be careful with Sammy’s tender heart.

  Chapter 20

  Renata and I visited Grandfather at the jail, bringing along a pastrami sandwich and a bottle of the root beer. He seemed to be in great spirits, chanting his native songs as we entered the visitors’ area.

  “He’s a happy old man,” said the guard who escorted him into the room. “He’s been entertaining us with songs and telling tales from the past. It gets real boring around here. I’ll be sorry to see him go.”

  “But we want him home,” I said.

  “I understand. Sorry.” The guard nodded to us.

  “Give those to Clem next door,” Grandfather said to the guard when we handed him the food. “He’s always hungry. The food around here isn’t bad, but there’s not enough to fill him up.”

  I could see why. The last time I’d visited, Clem had just been leaving the visitors’ area as I came in. He was over six foot four and had to weigh in at over three hundred pounds.

  “Clem says being in jail is like going to a fat farm,” Grandfather said. “He claims he dropped ten pounds in the first two days. He’ll make short work of the sandwich. I’ve seen him polish off one in four bites, and he likes to upend a bottle in one long gulp. The guy is a good eater.”

  “We should have brought more,” I said.

  “You’re looking your usual lovely self,” Grandfather said to Renata. “Las Vegas agrees with you.”

  “It’s the dry weather. I mildew around here,” she replied.

  Their exchange was friendly enough, but not really warm. I could feel the distance between them.

  “Why did you come back here?” Grandfather was getting right to it. So much for friendly. His tone of voice said he was worried and somewhat displeased by her appearance.

  “I came to see Sammy.”

  “You see any of the other tribe members?”

  “This morning.”

  He nodded at her reply, then turned his gaze on me.

  “I thought Sammy might be with you.”

  “He’s off repairing the airboat. It broke down when Jerry was squiring some women from West Palm through the swamps.”

  He sighed. “I miss two things being in here: the smell of the swamp and your store, Eve. I sure did like selling to those ladies.”

  “You can do it again real soon, I’m sure.”

  “Only if whoever killed Jenny feels safe enough with me sitting in here to believe he’s off the hook.”

  “Frida told you about the fake hand?” I was surprised she’d shared this detail with Grandfather.

  He chuckled. “She did not. She’s too professional to give that away. I figured it out for myself. I got a look at that hand and saw it wasn’t real. The rest just fell into place.”

  Of course Grandfather knew what was going on. The cops may have seen him as some dumb old Indian off the rez. Frida knew better, even though she couldn’t do anything about it.

  As we turned to leave, Grandfather called after us. “By the way, Eve. We do not think of Miccosukee land as a reservation. It’s our land. We fought for it. Some say we won.”

  “I know.” But how did he know what I was thinking about the cops?

  I looked back at him. He waved and smiled. “Tell Sammy the airboat needs a new ignition switch, that’s all.”

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  “He reads more than minds, I guess,” Renata said.

  Grandfather heard her. “Nope. That switch has been bad for months, that’s all.”

  As we were getting into my car, Frida pulled up in her police SUV. She was smiling.

  “You got Jenny’s killer?” I asked.

  “Not yet, but we’re close on his heels. I think we may have arrested one of his accomplices.”

  “Who?”

  “Your favorite friend and Shelley’s beau.”

  “Darrel? Darrel killed Jenny. But why?

  “I don’t think he killed her, but he may know who did.”

  I wondered if Frida knew how much I ached to put my hands around that little weasel’s throat and squeeze until his eyeballs popped out. Or better yet, grab him by the back of his shirt and toss him into the slough near the Fifty-five-and-older RV park. Or perhaps I should …. I stopped myself.

  “Where is the little shit?’ I asked.

  “He’s at police headquarters in our interview room. Linc is talking with him while I grab a bite to eat for both of us. We’ve been at this all morning without a break.”

  “What evidence do you have?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Oh, come on, Frida.”

  “You remember Linc was headed to the coast to see if he could track down that phony hand?’

  “Yep.”

  “You do the math.” She grinned.

  “Darrel,” I said.

  “You didn’t hear it from me.” Grinning, she rolled up her window and drove off.

  I dropped Renata at the airboat ride. Sammy had finished the repairs on the boat. Was I surprised it was the ignition? I shared with him the news about Darrel.

  “That’s good news. Maybe Grandfather will be freed today,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. You know how the cops work. They’ll want all the t’s crossed and i’s dotted. Better yet, they’ll be looking for a confession.”

  His happiness grew less pronounced. “Still,” he said.

  I watched Sammy and Renata drive off to meet with other relatives, then walked over to the airboat chickee to have a few words with Jerry. A line of women stood in front of the stand, waiting to buy tickets. They didn’t look happy.

  I recognized one of them as a consigner.

  “Delays, right? Kind of frustrating when you want to get out into the swamps.”

  “Listen, Eve. A delay is just fine with me and my friends if we get to watch your Miccosukee friend repair the engine—especially when it’s as hot as it is and he takes off his shirt.” She fanned herself with her airboat brochure, and I was sure it was to wave away internal heat and not the outside weather. “Now we’ve got that other guy, who told us he’s part Miccosukee. He sure doesn’t look like it. He sounds more like he’s from up North. Do you know him?”

  “I’ve seen him around.”

  As much as I wanted to drop by police headquarters and insist upon being let in to see Darrel, I knew Frida wouldn’t allow me access. I feared she’d told me all she was going to. I was out in the cold. Or was I?

  I punched in Alex’s cell number.

  “Hi there,” I said, as cheery and friendly as if we’d never parted ways. “How’s it going?”

  “Hi, yourself. I know what you want, but first could you let me know where Sammy is? I tried to get him at the airboat business, but Jerry answered and said he was unavailable.”

  “Right. He’s with his mother. They might be visiting more relatives. Maybe I could get a message to him.”

  There was a pause.

  “No. I can wait.”

  “It’s about Darrel, isn’t it? I told Sammy he was being questioned. What do you know?”

  “Let’s meet at the Biscuit for a drink.”

  “What time?”

  “Around five? Have everyone who’s free meet us, too. They’ll want to hear what I found out.”

  Good. I had just enough time to stop by the rig and thank Grandy and Max for lending a hand today. I could give Madeleine a call also.

  I arrived early at the Biscuit, so I grabbed a table and ordered a drink before the crowd came in and took all the seats. Alex strode in, looking like the cat t
hat ate the canary. He knew something I didn’t. What was it?

  “Okay, give.”

  The waitress set the drink down in front of me.

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “Great. You got a table.” Grandy plopped herself down in the chair across from me. Max followed, carrying two mugs of ice-cold beer.

  “No sense waiting on service when you can get it yourself from the bar.” Max wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “A hot one out there.”

  The waitress returned with Alex’s drink just as Madeleine and David entered. She ordered iced tea and he a draft.

  “Nappi not free?” Alex asked.

  “Right here,” said Nappi, walking up behind him.

  Before Alex could tell us whatever he was hiding so happily, Frida appeared. She looked as if she could use a drink. The makeup she’d applied this morning had slid south, and she had eaten all her lipstick off her lips. She’d obviously been rubbing her eyes because her mascara was smeared under her lower lashes.

  She signaled the waitress. “Double Scotch on the rocks, hold the rocks. I drove by the rig and Eve’s house. When I found no one at either place, I reasoned you’d all be here.”

  “I was just about to tell the gang about Darrel,” Alex said.

  “Go ahead with your end of the case, then let me hop in with what I know.”

  Alex shrugged. “All I really know is Linc went to the coast to see if he could find who bought that fake hand.”

  “Oh, you know more than that, by the look on your face,” I said, but before he could speak, Frida held up one finger, asking me to wait for the answer while she took a sip of her drink.

  “Ah, that’s better.” She sat back in her chair. “I needed someone to let Darrel know we’d found out he bought the hand and were about to move on arresting him for murder. So I had Alex tell him he was doing him a favor because of his relationship with Shelley by letting him know before we got there. Alex also gave him a piece of advice that helped us. ‘Give yourself up voluntarily and you can work a deal with the cops if you tell them what you know.’ ” Frida laughed. “No one believed Darrel put together any of this on his own.”