“And . . .”
“Then I called Detective Parker to start the process.” She grinned. “It’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone in real life use the name New Scotland Yard in a conversation.”
“Real life, as opposed to TV life?”
“Yes. Chills!” She held her hand out and faked a tremor.
Edward took her hand and kissed it. “The strangest things make you happy.”
Savannah glanced at the handsome, confident, funny man holding her hand. Unbidden, a shocking thought struck her—this was the happiest she had been in the few months since her father died. It felt very, very good.
After a few wrong turns and several attempts, while giggling, to teach Edward the mapping program on his phone, she pulled up to Martin’s tiny trailer. They got out of the Mini, and Savannah noticed a twitch in the curtain of the somewhat larger trailer across the sandy gravel and dirt road. She noted the baby stroller and the toy-strewn yard, then turned to Edward.
“Why don’t you go ask the park management about Martin’s payment patterns, and I’ll tackle the stay-at-home mom?”
“Don’t have too much fun!” Edward walked toward the front of the park.
A petite, dark-haired beauty who couldn’t have been over twenty years old quickly answered Savannah’s knock on the trailer door. “We don’t want whatever you’re selling.”
“No, I’m not selling anything.” Savannah held out her hand. “My name is Savannah Webb, and I’m a consultant with the St. Petersburg Police Department. I’m investigating Martin Lane’s death. I would like to talk with you for a few minutes.”
She felt a little uncomfortable stretching the truth, but if it helped to get people to trust her, she was going to use every tiny edge.
The young woman stood quietly for a long moment. “Sure, I liked Martin, but I hated all the diving stuff. I kept telling him to be careful.”
She backed up into the small space behind her to let Savannah into a clean living room furnished with only a worn love seat and a sagging, comfortable chair, which faced a flat-screen TV on the same wall as the door. The smell of chili bubbling away on the two-burner stovetop caused Savannah’s mouth to water.
“Thanks, Miss . . .” Savannah had to bend her head to keep from hitting the ceiling and slumped over a bit.
“Just call me Ashley. Here. Sit in the easy chair.” She smiled easily. “You’re a little tall for our camper.” She cleared away some of the toys and tossed them into a wooden picnic basket shoved against the wall under the flat screen. Then she sat on the love seat.
“How long did you know Martin?” Savannah sat, then dug a pen and a notepad out of her backpack and placed it on the floor beside the chair.
“We’ve been here only about a month. He was already here when we pulled into this lot. He was home at the time and helped us get set up. He was nice about helping out like that. Always helpful.”
“Did he have many visitors?”
“Not very many. Mostly girlfriends.”
As in plural. Maybe not as shy as Amanda thinks.
“Do you know their names?” Savannah asked.
“No. They never stayed around. He was pretty private.”
“What did they look like?”
“Oh, the one who was here last had wild hair. I loved it. The yellow orange was perfect for her pale face and figure. She was a bit heavy but carried it very well—sexy even.”
Savannah frowned at the perfect description of Amanda. “When was this visit?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Please try to remember.”
“I think it was Monday night, but it might have been Sunday. My husband works at the Walmart on the night shift restocking team. All nights seem alike to me.”
“Thanks, Ashley. Here’s my number.” She handed her card over. “Call me if you think of anything else. It sounds like Martin will be missed around here.”
“Yes, especially by the old man next door to him. Martin was always over there helping him out. Leroy has a hard time taking the trash up to the community recycling containers. Martin always took it up for him. I’ll be watching out for him now.” Ashley looked closely at the card. “This says you own a glass shop.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve been consulting with the police department for only a very short time. I haven’t had a chance to order professional cards.”
“Oh, well.” Ashley stood and stepped toward the door. “Come back if you need more information. I’m going to miss Martin.”
Savannah ducked her way out of the little trailer. She had walked over to stand by the Mini when she heard the cry of a baby, followed by Ashley cooing. “Good girl. What a good nap. Do you want a snack? Let’s get a new diaper first.”
She leaned against the Mini while she waited for Edward. The heat beat down with a vengeance, and the welcome cooling of a quick rain shower remained unfulfilled. The cloying humidity sapped at her will and caused rivulets of sweat to trickle down her back. She was about to get in the Mini and turn the air-conditioning on full blast when the door opened out on the trailer next door.
A wizened, white-haired man leaned out. “Would you like to get out of the heat? I have some fresh iced tea.”
Savannah turned to him. “Absolutely. It’s brutal out here.” She walked through the open doorway into a trailer home that was twice as big as Ashley’s. “Wow. This is bigger than it looks from the outside.” She didn’t have to bend over to get in the door—there were at least six inches of clearance.
The old man used a beautiful wooden cane with a silver fish mounted on the top to get around. He made his way to the kitchen counter and handed her a glass of tea packed full of ice in the traditional Florida way. “Sit yourself down over there. There’s a little table for your drink.”
She did as she was bid and gulped down more than half the tea. “Thanks. This is perfect.”
“So, did Ashley give you the answers you were looking for?” He sat slowly in a well-used brown leather recliner covered with a fleece throw.
“How did you—”
“We’re a very close little community here at Happy Campers. It’s a way of life here. We all look out for each other. So, did she?”
She stalled by taking another sip of her tea. “Not really. She said she couldn’t remember who had been to see Martin on Monday night.”
“I’m Leroy, by the way. And you are?”
“Savannah Webb. I’m a consultant with the police.”
He nodded. “Martin was a nice young man. He had a lot of crazy ideas about getting rich quick, but he had a big heart. I’m going to miss him.”
“Did he have friends?” Savannah dug out her notepad and pen. “Ashley said he didn’t have many visitors.”
“Well, Ashley is very busy with her beautiful new baby, and her husband is a hard worker but high maintenance, as well. She’s always got dinner on the table at five thirty sharp. It’s made from scratch, too—none of that prepackaged stuff for them. I’m as likely to throw a frozen dinner in the microwave and call it done.”
“Martin’s friends?” she said, reminding him of her question.
“Oh, yes. He used to get a lot of visits from a girl who was quite loud. We always knew when she was here.” He leaned over and whispered in a soft voice, “There’s no privacy in these little tin boxes. She loved his fantastical conglomerations. He sold them on the Interweb somehow. I don’t know anything about such things.”
“When was she here last?”
“Oh, I hadn’t seen her in a few days, and then she stopped by on Tuesday, while he was gone.”
“Did she have a key?”
“Nope, but she knew exactly where he hid it and let herself in as bold as a brass monkey.”
Savannah looked up from her notepad. “Where is the key?” Modifying her tone, she said, “I would like to see if there are more bottles. It could be important to the investigation. The police have already been here and gotten their evidence. It’s not taped off.”<
br />
He clamped his mouth tight. Then, after a pause, he said, “I don’t know about this. If you work with the police, why do you need a key from me?”
“Please?” She used her kindest tone. “I’m actually just a consultant, and this is my first case. I want to do everything I can to find out what happened to Martin. I’m looking for something else that’s related, but not something that the police would recognize. I’m trying to identify the origin of some bottles he found. I’m a glass expert.”
“I don’t see any harm. It’s in a little magnetic box underneath the trailer, on the other side of the wooden steps. It’s painted the same color as the trailer, so you need to know where to look.”
“Thanks, Leroy. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t you want to know about his girlfriend?”
“Certainly. Ashley mentioned her. When was she here last?”
Leroy furrowed his brow and looked over at the calendar hanging on the wall beside his chair. “Let’s see. It was on a Monday night, because that’s bingo night up at the recreation center. I won the second jackpot.”
“When did you see her?”
“Well, it was before I left, so it had to be before six thirty. It takes me quite a while to walk over to the center, but I like talking to everyone before the game begins, so I leave pretty early. That detective asked me all these same questions.”
“Of course, but I’m being extra thorough. One last question and then I’ll get out of your hair. How long did she stay?”
“Oh, I couldn’t say. I’m usually so tired after bingo, I can barely walk all the way back to my door. I didn’t notice anything. Sorry, miss.”
Savannah put her head in both hands and shook it. Exactly what I thought. Why didn’t Amanda tell me she visited Martin on Monday evening?
Chapter 19
Thursday Afternoon
Savannah poked through the piles of driftwood, shell, and bottles on the little entry patio, but came up with nothing of interest. She had just opened the door to Martin’s trailer when Edward arrived back from the park office.
“What are you doing?” His voice was firm, and he lowered his chin.
Savannah stood very tall. “The neighbor told me where the key was hidden. He didn’t see any harm in my looking around. Do you?”
Edward shook his head. “No. It’s a good idea. Maybe we’ll turn up a clue Detective Parker has missed.”
“Not likely, but maybe I can offer some expertise on some of the glass still here.”
“But wouldn’t Parker have already given you that evidence?”
Savannah smiled and put her hand over her heart. “It’s possible he might not recognize something vital to a craftsman. Besides, it won’t hurt to look. Right?”
Edward glanced around uneasily and then nodded his head.
They walked into the tiny front room, where the dinette sat underneath a set of windows that wrapped around the end of the trailer.
“This is where he worked on his creations.” Savannah pointed to the side of the table with craft supplies and tools arranged neatly.
“And this looks like where his laptop was. The police must have taken it away for analysis.” Edward walked to the back end and poked his head into the bathroom. “He was pretty neat for a guy.”
“It also appears he didn’t have much.” Savannah opened and closed the small kitchen cabinets and drawers. “That makes it easier. Oh, what did the park manager say about Martin?”
“He said Martin was a nice guy. Didn’t cause trouble. Paid in cash right on time each month. The model of a perfect tenant.”
Savannah followed Edward back to the tiny bedroom. The bed was made. It looked like the bedspread and curtains were leftovers from a bankrupt motel chain, but everything was neat and tidy. Looking at Edward, she said, “This is not making sense to me. Where did he store all his marine cleaning material?” She moved back into the small hallway and looked under the bed. “Nothing. Is there a shed out back?”
Edward shrugged his shoulders.
They closed and locked the trailer and circled around the back, but there was nothing behind the trailer except the electrical hookup post. Savannah stood with her hands on her hips. “There must be a storage area somewhere. There would be a lot of work involved in cleaning up his salvage items. I’ll bet the rules of the park would prevent that.”
“I don’t think he could afford a storage unit, but it’s something Amanda might know.”
“Well, Amanda doesn’t seem to be telling us all she knows about Martin. Leroy, Martin’s neighbor, told me she was here with Martin on Monday night.” Savannah started for the Mini.
“Why didn’t she say so?” Edward opened the car door for Savannah.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll get spoiled.” She smiled up at him. “It is nice, though.”
“I think we need to find this captain to get more answers.” Edward sat in the passenger’s seat. “Buckle up.”
Savannah pressed her lips together to hold in a reply about not being a child, then relaxed and clipped the belt. He’s right. Sometimes I do forget to buckle up. That’s observant and thoughtful. She smiled.
“Where was Captain Collins’s business?” She pulled out from in front of Martin’s trailer and headed down the dusty road. “Wasn’t it in an industrial park near here?”
Edward reached into the side pocket of his trousers and pulled out his phone. “Let me punch in a search.” He tapped the smartphone. “Here it is. It’s called Collins Salvage and Diving. The address is supposed to be near the trailer park.”
“Oh, that’s up the street.”
“Grrrrr. I’m still not used to the number grid here. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone to three places in a row that are not where I wanted to be.”
Savannah smiled. “It’s the exact opposite of New York City in terms of the grid. St. Pete has streets that go north–south, while the avenues go east–west. Central Avenue is the dividing line between north and south, and Beach Drive downtown is the dividing line between east and west.” She looked over to see Edward rolling his eyes. “It’s simple, really.”
“Grrrr. You were born here.”
“Choose one to memorize. Streets go north–south, divided by Beach Drive. Simple!”
“Okay, okay.” He peered at the road signs, matching them to the map on his cell. “I should have written this on a slip of paper.” He scowled at the screen. “We should be getting close now.” He looked back at her. “You were right. That north-south thing of yours does help.”
Savannah shrugged and turned into a small, run-down industrial park. There was a large sign at the entrance, which listed all the businesses within the park. She looked at the names of the businesses, and Collins Salvage and Diving was listed near the bottom. “This is it.”
The industrial park looked more like a junkyard than anything else, with three rows of low cement-block buildings running the length of the property. Each building had been built with large garage doors facing out. It looked a lot like a storage rental property, but instead, it was outfitted for small business rentals. Savannah pulled up to the far left side and began driving along that side of the long building, passing a vitamin discount store, an antique furniture refinisher . . . in other words, everything under the sun.
After searching the central bank of businesses, they found Captain Collins’s business near the back. It was spread over the final three bays in the building, and all three garage doors were up. Inside the first bay were storage racks crammed with diving suits, belts, masks, flippers, and everything needed for renting dive equipment. The second bay held diving tanks and the compressors used to refill them.
Finally, they found a thin, deeply tanned, and scruffy man in the third bay, bent over a lump of something and scrubbing it with a small wire brush. He was barefoot and clad in cutoffs, a tattered T-shirt, and a grass-woven hat aged to a brittle beige. The bay appeared to be a sorting area, with large tables down the middle and f
loor-to-ceiling storage racks around the walls, which were filled with marine artifacts.
Savannah parked the Mini across from the open bays so as to not block the limited thruway for the other businesses. At the sound of the closing car doors, the man looked up from his work, wiped his hands on his shorts, and walked toward them.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re trying to find Captain Collins.” Savannah offered her hand for shaking. “I’m Savannah Webb, and this is Edward Morris.”
“I’m Captain Collins.” He shook their hands, Edward’s first. “Do you want to sign up for a salvage dive?”
Edward quickly looked at Savannah and gave a tiny nod. “Sure. That would be great.” He exaggerated his British accent. “We heard you offered a fantastic experience diving for treasure.”
“My specialty.” He led them over to the table. “Here’s a few of the artifacts we salvaged on this morning’s tour.” He picked up a heavily barnacle-crusted propeller blade. “A young woman from Montreal found this on her first dive. I’m cleaning it up a bit so it won’t smell up her suitcase.”
Savannah leaned over the propeller. “Is it valuable?”
“Only in the sense that it will be a memento of an enjoyable dive. She said she’ll keep this on her desk to remind her of her first trip to Florida.”
“Do we need to be certified divers?” Savannah asked.
“No. We can go to places you can explore by snorkeling. When would you like to schedule a trip? I still have a few openings for tomorrow morning.”
“Well, sweetie, do you think we might want to try our hand at this?”
Edward’s eyes opened wide, but he recovered quickly. “If this is what you want to do, love, I’ll play along.”
“We heard a local artist has been making fabulous creations by using items he found on salvage dives. Do you know him? His name is Martin Lane,” Savannah said.
“I have lots of customers who enjoy the sport of diving for artifacts, and many of them use their finds in lots of interesting ways. Would you like to sign up for the sunrise cruise in the morning? I still have a couple of seats available.”
Cracked to Death Page 13
