Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue

by Marty Ambrose

“Stay away from him,” Sandy said. “He’s trouble.”

  “What’s his problem?” I hit the Print button on the computer.

  Sandy leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “His wife left him two years ago. He kept Robby but has been bitter ever since. Then he started a clam farm with Tom Crawford that went bankrupt. He blamed Tomsaid he’d mismanaged the books and-“

  “Jake Fowler hated Tom Crawford?” My interest spiked a couple of notches. “Enough to kill him?”

  She shrugged. “I … I can’t say for sure”

  “If Tom were murdered, Jake would certainly have a motive,” I murmured, half to myself. “A big one.”

  Silence fell over the newsroom, except for the muted coughs emanating from Anita’s office cubicle.

  “Don’t worry” Jimmy placed a hand on Sandy’s shoulder, then turned to me. “If you call Mom, she’ll help.”

  “Thanks” I tried to summon a degree of enthusiasm, knowing full well I had no intention of putting myself in the hands of some half-baked, phony, island fortuneteller. I could get to the truth on my own. In spite of what Anita thought, I knew how to follow up on leads.

  I grabbed my printout, shoved it into my canvas bag, and left.

  In spite of Anita’s suggestion that I skip lunch, I swung by the Circle K and picked up yet another ham and Swiss hoagie with a Coke (regular, not diet) to eat on the road. As I took a couple of swigs of my drink, I made for Heron’s Landing-a tiny mobile-home community not far from the island center. A few of the local fishing families lived there, including Sally Jo-my first lead.

  Nestled among the pine trees and mini citrus groves stood a smattering of trailers firmly affixed to permanent sites. They weren’t luxurious by any means, but, freshly painted and landscaped with lots of native vegetation, they represented proudly the modest but hardworking lifestyle of the local fishermen. Canals stretched behind them so the men could dock their boats in the backyard and deposit their “island Reeboks” on the back porch.

  I looked for Wanda Sue’s ancient, powder blue Cadillac convertible with its vanity plate-HoTTIE-no deep psychological delving needed there. It stood parked in front of a double-wide mobile home painted the color of a wild flamingo and trimmed with butterscotch yellow shutters.

  My own silver Airstream with its black and white striped awning seemed tame in comparison.

  I hopped out of Rusty and staggered against the wind gusts. Before I got within thirty feet of the front door, it swung open, and Wanda Sue poked her head out.

  “Honey, we were just talking about you. Come on in before you freeze your buns off.”

  I didn’t know if my behind would actually disconnect from my body, but it felt as if it was getting close to doing so.

  As soon as I crossed the threshold, I welcomed the blast of heat. One thing about mobile homes-they might be small, but they had furnaces that could heat up the North Pole and then some.

  “How ‘bout a nice cup of hot cocoa?” Wanda Sue asked as she closed the door behind me. In spite of her cheery tone, the red-rimmed eyes told me she’d been crying.

  “Love some”

  I started to unzip my Windbreaker but halted as I took in my surroundings. Sally Jo’s interior decorating taste ran somewhere between overstuffed Victorian and Southwest kitsch. A huge pink leather sectional dominated the living room, offset by glass end tables and matching coffee table with bases made of carved wooden horses. Rodeo pictures adorned every wall, illuminated by lamps with pink-fringed shades. A deep rose shag carpet completed the decor.

  My mouth dropped open.

  “It’s really something, huh, Mallie? Can you believe that Sally Jo fixed this place up all by herself?”

  “Uh … yeah” I had the urge to reach for some Maalox.

  “She was all set to get her AA degree in interior design, but then she … got married … and had Kevin. And now .. ” Tears slid down Wanda Sue’s face, and she brushed them away with an impatient swipe of her hand. “I’ve got to stop this. It ain’t doing Sally Jo any good. She needs me to be strong right now, and that’s what I’m gonna be” She took in a determined breath.

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Pretty much like you’d expect. Plumb near to crazy. She got her boy back last night but lost her man. It’s a terrible thing to happen, just terrible” Wanda Sue lowered her head and closed her eyes for a few brief moments. “But Kevin’s okay…. We have to keep reminding ourselves that some good came out of last night.”

  “Where is he?” I finished unzipping my Windbreaker.

  “Asleep in his bedroom” She motioned down a narrow hallway. “Poor little thing was all tuckered out after the commotion-what with being left out on that boat all day and up most of the night. We decided to keep him home from school so he could rest.”

  “Good idea.” I sat down on the leather sofa. Immediately it settled around me in all its squishy pastel glory. For a moment I had the sensation of sitting in a tub of margarine. “Is Sally Jo resting too?”

  “I’m right here” She emerged from the hallway, wearing a fluffy mauve robe and matching slippers. She walked with slow, halting steps, her face drawn and tired. But, amazingly, her sixties flip hair helmet was intact. Must be genetic. “Thanks for coming over, Mallie.”

  “You just set yourself down, baby.” Wanda Sue guided Sally Jo to the monstrous sofa, picking up a pink and white crocheted coverlet on the way. “I’m gonna fix Mallie a cup of cocoa. Would you like one too?”

  “Sure” Her voice was devoid of emotion.

  Wanda Sue tucked the coverlet around her daughter, then made her way to the kitchen.

  “Can I do anything?” I asked.

  Sally Jo leveled two sad eyes in my direction. “You already did. You saved my son. I’m so grateful for that”

  “All I did was help Detective Billie. He’s the one you should be grateful to. He saved Kevin.”

  A ghost of a smile touched her face. “You both did.”

  “Well … sort of.” She probably hadn’t heard about the rope incident. Small mercy.

  “I couldn’t believe it when they brought in Tom’s body. I mean, he didn’t look dead or anything. His eyes were closed, but he seemed like he was sleeping.” She buried her face in her hands. “It’s so unfair. We were getting back together-going to be a family again. And now it’s all gone. We’ll never have the chance… ” Her voice trailed off into a muffled jumble.

  “You and Tom were definitely getting back together?” I asked gently.

  She raised her head, her face streaked with tears. “We’d been separated for about eight months, but in the last few weeks we’d started talking again, working out our problems. That’s why I don’t understand any of this. Just when everything was looking up, Tom goes and takes Kevin out on his boat without telling me, worrying me something sick. Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, God. How could he be so stupid? Now Kevin don’t have a daddy” A fresh stream of tears spilled over her cheeks. “What are we gonna do?”

  My motormouth sputtered. “You … you’ve got Wanda Sue and lots of people here who’ll help out. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Coral Island, it’s a place where people look out for one another.”

  She shook her head violently. “But that won’t bring back my Tom. He’s gone forever.”

  I scooted across the sofa and put my arms around her. She cried hard, hot tears that dropped onto my shoulder, and her whole body quaked as the sobs ran through her. Never having provided anyone with the proverbial shoulder to cry on, I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right. But I improvised as best I could, patting her on the back and murmuring some incoherent words. After a few minutes she settled down.

  I eased away. “Let me get that hot cocoa. It’ll make you feel better.”

  She pushed a stray hair back. “I’d like that”

  I gave her another quick pat on the arm and made my way into the kitchen. Wanda Sue had set out three mugs
and was in the process of heating milk in a saucepan.

  “This is a plumb nightmare,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t hardly take it all in. Looking at poor Tom’s body last night, dead as a doornail. Who would’ve thought?”

  “It must’ve been rough on all of you”

  “Worst thing I’ve ever had to do-and that includes burying my own husband six years ago. Angina. We knew it was coming. But this was different. Tom was so young” Her chin began to quiver, but she held back the tears. “Nick had Sally Jo and Kevin stay inside the marina office, while I identified the body. But then Sally Jo came out she wanted to see him. It’s so sad. I wish… things could’ve worked out different for them, especially since Tom planned to move back in…

  “I hate to pry, but did Nick Billie say when he’d know the cause of death?”

  “In a day or two” She sniffed.

  I handed her a Kleenex from the box on the counter. “Wanda Sue, if for some reason the cause of death isn’t an accident, that opens up the possibility that someone … well … could’ve hurt Tom” I picked over my words as if I were tiptoeing over jagged shells on the beach.

  Her glance sharpened. “What are you saying?”

  “Isn’t it sort of unlikely that Tom just fell overboard?”

  “Kevin was the only other person on the boat.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

  “True….” An idea that had been simmering in the back of my mind rippled to the surface. “Unless someone else came aboard the boat-someone who wanted to kill Tom”

  Her eyes grew large and liquid. “You think?”

  “It’s possible.” I raised my hands, palms open, then dropped them. “But this is all supposition. Detective Billie might be right-he thought Tom fell out of the boat after a couple of beers”

  The milk bubbled as it came to a boil. Wanda Sue then removed the pan from the stove and poured the steaming liquid into the mugs. “I don’t think so,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t tell Nick last night, but Tom and Sally Jo have been going to AA. Neither of them have touched alcohol for the last four months.”

  Wanda Sue’s words hung in the air like a sudden, dark fog. We looked at each other, but neither of us wanted to say the words. If an accidental death were looking more and more unlikely, Kevin would be the primary suspect.

  She turned away and stirred the instant cocoa with vigorous strokes. Then she held out two mugs. “Help me find out what happened on that boat. Kevin’s future could be at stake. We need you, Mallie.”

  “I’ll try.” I took the mugs from her and carried them into the living room.

  By the time I arrived at my Tae Kwon Do class that night, I was regretting my hasty agreement to help Wanda Sue. As Kevin’s doting grandmother, she couldn’t conceive that the boy might be capable of harming his own father. But if he’d been troubled by his parents’ separation, he might’ve attacked Tom in a fit of rage. Younger kids than he had done similar crimes, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

  I parked Rusty outside the fitness center and climbed out. The wind had died down as evening set in, but now a biting chill was blanketing the island. I hurried inside, clutching my tattered gym bag.

  “Mallie, good to see you.” Sam held out his right hand and bowed. I did the same, and we shook hands. It still felt weird to greet someone this way, but I tried my best to conform to Tae Kwon Do etiquette.

  Several members of the class waved. The Jordan twins ignored me.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here tonight after your recent adventure,” he said.

  I tossed my gym bag to the floor. “Which one? Helping to rescue Kevin or making a fool of myself by pitching the bow line overboard?”

  He smiled gently. “You’re too hard on yourself. Everyone admires how much courage it took for you to go out on those rough seas yesterday when you’d never been on a boat before”

  “Thanks” I took a deep breath and unzipped my gym bag. I’d bought this item at my usual consignment shop, and, even though it wasn’t too old, it had a perennial smell of sweaty socks.

  I grabbed my white belt and closed the bag again before I had to exhale.

  “Do they know how Tom died?” Sam asked.

  “Not yet” I wound the belt around my waist twice and attempted the correct knot formation. After two tries, Sam stepped toward me and, in one deft motion, executed a perfect knot.

  “We’ll talk after class. For now, try to empty your mind of everything that happened during the day. Focus on what we’re going to do tonight.”

  “Fat chance.”

  He adjusted his own black belt. “That’s because you’re not used to being in the present. Ruminating is pointless-and it causes you to age.” He pointed at his bald head. “I used to have thick, lustrous hair.”

  I laughed as I scraped back my curls and fastened them with an elastic band. “But pointless ruminating is one of my specialties. I’m not called Mixed-up Mallie for nothing.”

  “You underestimate yourself”

  “That’s another one of my specialties.” In spite of my distracted state, the hour flew by, and the next thing I knew, we were bowing out of class. I stayed after everyone had left-except the Jordan twins.

  I needed to talk to Sam. I needed a big dose of his wisdom. At the very least, I needed a mild sip of intelligent encouragement.

  “Nice job,” Sam said as he wiped his face with a towel. “You’ll be ready to test for your yellow tip soon”

  A tiny flicker of delight lit inside of me. “You mean I’ll actually get some color in my white belt?”

  “Absolutely”

  “I can hardly wait.” I unwound my belt and tossed it into the gym bag, holding my breath for the short, stinky interval during which it was unzipped. “At least I’m making some kind of measurable progress in Tae Kwon Do”

  Sam removed his belt, folding it with careful, deliberate motions. “And you’re not elsewhere?”

  “I’ve been at the newspaper for almost six months, and Anita still treats me like a cub reporter, checking every story and rewriting almost every sentence. Can you believe that?”

  “She’s a stickler for a well-written article.”

  “Actually, I think she likes to stick it to me, period.”

  He laughed. “For a comparative literature major, you’re got some colorful expressions.” He tilted his balding head back and regarded me with a speculative gaze. “What’s really bothering you?”

  “How is it that you know me so well after only a few months?”

  “I pay attention.” A brief smile flitted over his face. “And there’s always the island grapevine to fill in the gaps”

  “It’s this whole thing with Kevin’s dad…. I sort of promised Wanda Sue I’d help find out what happened to Tom. But I’m concerned that the truth might end up implicating Kevin, and that would devastate her.” I pulled the elastic band out of my hair and fluffed my curls. “Wanda Sue is counting on me, and that’s such a..

  “Huge responsibility?” Calm understanding shone from his gray eyes.

  “Yes,” I said in a rush of relief. “I’ve never been the kind of person others could count on. It always seemed so … confining to meet people’s expectations. All my adult life I’ve only had myself to look out for-“

  “And to let down.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s simple, really. If you don’t have to meet others’ expectations, you also avoid their disappointment when you don’t live up to their version of how you should behave. You keep the world at arm’s length. No demands, no close ties. That’s comfortable. But it’s also lonely. At some point you need to allow people to depend on you”

  “What if I mess up?”

  “If they care about you, they’ll understand”

  I chewed on my lower lip. “I mess up a lot, Sam”

  “Who doesn’t?” He put a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve told me that you wanted to put down roots
here, be a part of the island community. This is what it’s all about. You’ve got to let people depend on you-and allow yourself to depend on them”

  “It’s scary”

  “Of course” He dropped his hand. “It’s unsettlinglike when you first started Tae Kwon Do. Remember when you couldn’t do even twenty jumping jacks without being winded? Now you can do fifty with only slight panting. That’s how we grow and develop-a little at a time. You just need to steer clear of limber teenagers” He motioned with his head toward the Jordan sisters, who were competing with each other on who could do the highest jump kick. “They make you want to run and hide.”

  “You can say that again.” I laughed. “What do you think the truth is behind Tom’s death? From what I’ve been able to gather, the only enemy he had was Jake Fowler-his ex-business partner. Jake held Tom responsible for their bankrupt clam farm. Anita always says, `Follow the money,’ and in this instance, it may or may not be true”

  He paused. “If he was murdered, and I say `if,’ there might be other reasons besides money.”

  “Such as?”

  “Passion, lust, anger, jealousy, hatred” He swung his attention back to me. “They’re all deep emotionsstrong enough to cause a person to take another’s life.”

  I swallowed hard. Those were the very emotions I’d spent most of my life avoiding. I kept things light in all my relationships, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to delve that deeply into the darker regions of the human soul. Too murky.

  “You’ve found out who hated Tom. Now find out who loved him. There might be motivation for murder in either.”

  Sam packed up his sparring gear and ushered the Jordan sisters and me out. After he locked up, we left the fitness center without exchanging another word. A clear, starry night had set in-the kind that promised even colder temperatures by morning, maybe even a hard freeze. I drove back to the Twin Palms at Mango Bay and was happy to be greeted by Kong at the door of my Airstream.

  Things were so much easier with a dog, so much simpler. In fact, I preferred my teacup poodle to almost any person. I provided him with food, exercise, and love, and he was happy. Ours was a perfect relationship. So why did I want more?