I told him no and we went back and forth a bit on the topic. Finally, he let me hang up after I promised I’d inform him of any local yacht club jobs.
Mariel said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”
I said, “It’s OK. It didn’t make any difference,”
She asked what I found out and I told her.
“So where is the DeepSea Doodle now?”
“Let’s see.” I navigated to the web page I used to track the Amante and typed in DeepSea Doodle”. Douglas was right. The ship made it to Florida and now occupied a berth at the Coronado Yacht Club. In fact, several ships currently at the Coronado previously docked at the East End. I reviewed the ships departure dates and they all left within a few days of each other but the DeepSea Doodle dates caught my attention.
Mariel must have sensed my surprise. She leaned in to view the computer screen. “What is it?”
“The DeepSea Doodle left Long Island one day after the Amante but it arrived in Florida the night Drew Fisher died.”
“That may not mean anything. You said Douglas told you several snowbirds come down by boat around now.”
“Yeah, but I don’t see any of them arriving that night except for the DeepSea Doodle.”
We stared at each other in silence until it hit me. “You know how I listen to the marine bands on my ham radio?”
“Yes?”
“Well, while my radio is scanning, I pick up the county bridge tenders on the North Causeway drawbridge.”
“So?”
“So, to get to the yacht club, you need to travel south under the drawbridge. The bridge opens every hour, twenty past the hour, and twenty to the hour assuming somebody radios and asks for an opening. I’ve heard the bridge tender ask people to spell the names of their boats. There must be a log somewhere showing who passed under the bridge that night.”
“Where can you get that?”
“Ed’s been going nuts trying to find a way to clear Brenda but he’s not getting too far. This sounds like something a lawyer can handle.” I reached for the phone. “I’ll call him.”
“And what will you do?”
“I’m going to visit Bucky at the yacht club.”
“And do what? Ask him if he killed Drew Fisher?”
“Yeah, not too smart. I got carried away, but I do think I ought to at least visit the club, see if anybody knows anything that might help.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t think so.”
Mariel gave me a look of pity and then smiled. “Max, you know I love you but look at us, to whom do you think the sailors would rather talk?”
She was right. Not only was she good looking, she had personality and smarts. “OK, you gave me an idea. I’ll have Ed phone ahead and tell them you’re a prospective member, a rich widow.”
“Max, don’t talk like that.” She paused. “Just tell Ed to say wealthy and single. Give me a minute to do my hair and makeup.”
I nodded assent.
While Mariel got ready, I phoned.
We finished about the same time. Mariel’s long black hair hung loose down her back and her shoulder-less sundress not only highlighted her workout routine, it coordinated nicely with her deep tan. Then I noticed her hand.
“Where are your wedding and engagement rings?”
“I thought I’d be more approachable without them.”
“You’re right.” I took my wedding band off and placed it in my dresser drawer.
We drove west over the South Causeway, made a left onto Riverside drive and turned into the parking lot for the Coronado Yacht Club. It looked somewhat pedestrian for such an ipsy pipsy place. I parked and Mariel exited the car.
She said, “How do we do this? I mean do we go in together?”
“Yeah, if you’re from out of town, there’s no reason why a friend wouldn’t accompany you. Besides, I don’t want you out of my sight.”
“Why? Are you worried something might happen to me?”
“Partially, but mainly because I like to look at you.”
She smiled and said, “Do you want me to wander around, meet people and get them to talk to me?”
“Of course, that’s the plan.”
“Then have a seat at the bar and wait for me.”
I didn’t want to do that and while I tried to think of a reason to refuse, she said, “Do this for Brenda.”
I nodded and followed her into the club.
I took a seat at the club bar while Mariel wandered down one of the docks where they kept the larger ships. A bartender approached and placed a round coaster on the bar. “What’ll it be?”
“Amberbock, please.”
The man nodded and busied himself behind the bar. I looked around and saw only one other person. A good-looking woman about my age sat alone at the far end of the bar, looking out at the water. A handsome young man with abs of steel apparent beneath his golf shirt came in from another room and took the seat next to her.
I didn’t hear what he said but I could see the woman shake her head. Then the young man shrugged and left. The bartender brought my beer and walked down to the woman. He pointed to her empty glass. She nodded and said, “I’m sick of these young boys.” She must have noticed me watching and asked me, “Why is it they think every woman wants them?”
Not knowing what to say, I said, “I don’t know.” Apparently, this was the response she wanted or was at least close enough because she picked up her empty glass and sat down next to me.
She held out her hand and in a whiskey voice said, “Hi, I’m Madison. Call me Maddie.”
Still not knowing what to say, I shook her hand and said, “Max.”
Maddie continued, “Actually my ex just calls me ‘Mad’, but that’s a long story.”
The bartender took a bottle of Macallan Scotch down from the top shelf and refilled her glass.
She smiled at him and then said, “Daddy named me for the street where he made his first million.”
“He worked in advertising.”
She gave me an appraising look. “Hmm, astute as well as handsome.”
Embarrassed by her attention, I could only say, “Thank you.”
“I did better than my brother though.”
“How’s that?”
“Daddy went into real estate and made his second million on Pearl Street.”
I laughed and she said, “My brother’s in denial. Claims the writing on his birth certificate is illegible and calls himself Paul.”
She took a long pull from her glass. “You a member here?”
“No, just looking around.”
“This is a nice club.”
“Despite what happened to that boater from New York?”
“You mean Drew Fisher? That bastard deserved it.”
“You knew him?”
“Yeah, we’re both from Long Island, the East End Yacht Club. A group of us visits here near the end of summer. Our club has reciprocity with the CYC.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder with one hand. “Would you like to see my boat?”
“Um, what did Fisher do to piss you off?”
“We… he ruined a couple of marriages with promises he had no plans to keep. He also defrauded a close friend.”
When I said, “Like Bucky Vanderbilt?” Maddie looked surprised.
“Yes, poor Bucky. Fisher took him for close to a half a million.”
“Wow.”
I heard a familiar clickity clack of high heel shoes behind me and turned to see Mariel approach the bar. She stood and placed her hand on my shoulder.
Maddie looked at her and said, “The best ones are always already taken.”
Mariel smiled at her. “You know it, honey.”
Back in the car, Mariel asked, “So, who’s your friend?”
I started the engine and pulled out of the lot. “She knew Drew, says he took Bucky for almost a half a mill.”
“I met Bucky.”
“We discussed talking to
Bucky and agreed it wasn’t a good idea. You were just supposed to look around and see what you could find out without confronting him.”
“I did, I mean I didn’t. You know what I mean. Some man called out to me and asked if I was looking for something. I told him I was considering membership and he invited me aboard his boat.”
“Geez, Mariel, couldn’t you see the name DeepSea Doodle?”
“No, I boarded the Clementine and Bucky was already on board visiting the owner.”
“What did you make of him?”
“He’s tall, like you with a deep tan and very muscular. He could easily toss someone overboard.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Small talk. Local restaurants and bars. He mentioned that his first night in town, he dined at the Riverview Grille.”
My cell phone rang and I reached into my right pants pocket to answer it but my seatbelt blocked the way. I shifted and squirmed to get access but only succeeded in swerving the car.
“Let me,” Mariel said as she reached into my pocket. I grinned as she rummaged in my cargo shorts for my phone.
She said, “Stop enjoying this and pay attention to the road. Last thing I need is to be found dead with my hand in your pants.”
I undid my seat belt long enough for her to retrieve and answer the phone. “Hello?”
“Yes, Ed, it’s Mariel. Max is driving. I’ll put you on speaker.”
“Ed,” I said. “Did you get the bridge information?”
“What? No, I haven’t had a chance. Something’s come up. Can you come to the house right away?”
I looked at Mariel and she nodded. “Yeah, sure,” I said. “What’s going on?”
Ed sighed, “Brenda is missing.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
When we arrived at Ed’s, Sheila answered the door and I made the introductions. Sheila looked Mariel over as if sizing her up. She seemed to approve of what she saw but then looked at me in apparent disbelief and shook her head.
We entered the house and I could see Ed through the big picture window that looked out onto the river. He paced the deck with a cigarette in his hand. Sheila led us out back where she retrieved her drink from a table and folded herself into a lounge chair.
Ed put out his cigarette. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know what to do.” He made an offhand gesture to the tiki bar overlooking his dock. “Please, make yourselves a drink. My hands are too shaky to pour.”
Mariel sat next to Sheila while I stood near Ed. “When’s the last time either of you saw Brenda?”
Ed and Sheila looked at each and then Ed said to me, “When you and I dropped her off here. It was right after we left Floyd’s.”
Sheila said, “That’s right. She was still here when I left to get my hair done.”
Ed looked at her when she said that. He seemed surprised.
I asked Sheila, “Did anything look unusual when you came home?”
“No, the door was locked. The alarm was set.”
“Did she say anything to either of you about going anywhere or her plans for the day?”
Sheila shook her head. Ed said, “No.”
“You already called her home and cell phones?”
Sheila said, “Many times and we left messages at each number.”
“And you phoned her friends and place of work?”
They both nodded. Ed said, “I even went to her apartment and looked inside. Everything looked fine except she wasn’t there.”
Sheila said, “You have a key? She took mine back,” and folded her arms.
Ed glanced at her and continued, “I even knocked on Floyd’s door. He didn’t know where she was either.”
“Where’s her car?”
Ed shrugged. “We don’t know.”
Sheila stood up. “We should phone the police.”
“No,” Ed held up a hand. “We tell the police their murder suspect is missing and they’ll look for her all right, but for the wrong reason. I don’t want them finding her and throwing her in jail. No police.”
Sheila pointed at me and said, “Well, you can’t just leave it to him.”
Mariel looked shocked. Ed said, “Sheila –”
I said, “She’s right, Ed. I can look for Fisher’s killer or I can look for Brenda. I can’t do both at the same time. If you’d like, I can subcontract this to another local investigator.”
“No, I don’t want to bring in anybody new. For all we know, her disappearance could be connected.”
“OK, if that’s what you want. First, let me at a computer. I’ll check the county corrections database and see if the sheriff has her.”
Sheila handed me a laptop computer and I visited the Volusia County Corrections website at www.volusiamug.vcgov.org. Everybody crowded around the screen. When a search for her name reported no matches, Ed took out his cell phone and said, “I better check the hospital.” Sheila made a mournful sound. Ed looked at her and then left the room to make his call.
Sheila asked, “Max, do you think whoever killed Fisher took Brenda?”
I thought about it for a moment. Ed was right. There could be a connection. Maybe Fisher’s killer didn’t know Brenda was on the boat at the time. She was drugged and possibly hidden under a blanket in the cabin. If the killer found out that Brenda was a suspect, he or she might think Brenda could be a witness. She could be in greater danger than if she was arrested but I saw no need to upset Sheila with suppositions. I said, “I really can’t say.”
Ed came back with a look of relief on his face. Sheila stood up to confront him as he entered the room. She put her palms flat on his chest and looked up at him. “Did you find her? Is she OK?”
Ed put his phone back in his pocket. “I called Bert Fish Hospital. She’s not there.”
Mariel said, “Wait. I hear a phone ringing.”
Sheila took off and ran to the tiki bar where she picked up a telephone. “Brenda?”
Ed said, “Put her on speaker. Put her on speaker.”
Sheila waved a hand at him to shush him and he took the phone from her. He pressed a button, held the phone so they could both hear and said, “Brenda?”
A familiar male voice said, “No, it’s Detective Torres.”
Ed said, “Yes?”
“Bring Brenda in for an interview tomorrow, Counselor, eight am.”
“Brenda’s not well. She’s still recovering from her ordeal.”
“We agreed to release your client to you if you’d produce her for questioning. Well, I’ve got questions. Be here tomorrow morning at eight with Brenda or you’ll both be sorry.”
Ed said, “Yes, we’ll be there,” and pressed a button on the phone to end the call.
Sheila said, “Why did you say that? You don’t know where she is.” She tilted her head. “Do you?”
“No, of course not, but what am I going to do? Say that she’s missing, so he can act tonight? No, this way, we bought some time. We have until tomorrow.”
“So what are we going to do? Drive around all night looking for her?”
“No, we already called everyone and looked everywhere. All we can do now is the hard part.”
“What’s that?”
“Sit and wait.”
We all just stared at each other. Then Mariel stood, placed her hand on my back and we let ourselves out. As I closed the door behind me, I took one last look out the picture window. Ed and Sheila still hadn’t moved.
As I turned south out of Ed’s driveway, Mariel said, “We can’t just leave them there to wait. We have to do something.”
I pulled the car to the curb and stopped. “You want to go back and wait with them?”
She shook her head so that her long, loose, hair swayed. “No, I want us to do something. Not just sit and wait.”
“Well…” I thought about it a moment and then said, “We could visit Brenda’s office, speak to some coworkers, maybe get some ideas?”
“But Ed and Sheila already called everyone.”
“When you were Brenda’s age, did your friends tell your parents everything?”
“They better not have. Let’s go.”
As much as I hated to do it, I made one more trip off the island to what at least one beach buddy referred to as America. Brenda worked at the Eastwood Business Co-op on Canal Street in downtown New Smyrna Beach. Preferring to spend her days on the water, she referred to the Co-op as the coop. The coop is a community development project funded by a local philanthropist, Corky Eastwood. College grads like Brenda with MBAs provided free or low cost business management consulting to small local businesses. The grads got valuable real world experience and built their resumes while local business people who lacked the advantage of a business degree got advice and guidance. It sounded as boring as hell to me but Brenda had a head for business and she loved the work.
I parked in the lot next to the building. When Mariel and I entered the office, a young man at one of the four desks stood up and smoothed his tie with his hand as he said, “Hey, Mr. Fried. Finally decide to make some money with that thing you call a PI agency?”
I walked over to his desk, “Hell no, Bryan. If I did that, I’d have to work. I like it the way it is. Having the business makes being nosy legal and I have time to enjoy my retirement.”
Bryan nodded sagely, “Yeah, I hear that.”
“Besides, I already have a business plan.”
Bryan brightened, “Oh yeah?”
“Yup. In a few years, I’m gonna sell it to you.”
“Um, why would I want to buy it?”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Because at the rate you’re going, mine will be the only business on the island you won’t already own.”
Bryan smiled. I think he liked the idea of that kind of success. Then he indicated Mariel. “New client?”
“Bryan, this is my wife, Mariel.”
Mariel extended her hand and Bryan shook it. “A pleasure, Ma’am.”
She gave him her perfect smile. He gestured for Mariel to sit in his side chair and he dragged another seat over for me.
We sat and Bryan asked, “So, what can I do for you?”
I knew Bryan from Brenda. They were study buddies from school but didn’t date each other. In fact, Brenda had introduced Bryan to his current girlfriend.
Falafel Jones - Max Fried 02 - Payback's a Beach Page 5
