Though I was suspicious, the trip, as promised, was uneventful and very soon we were touching down on a dusty airline strip with a tiny box of an airport. And by ‘box,’ I mean literally a one-room airport with ten chairs inside. Nevertheless, we were on land and the flight hadn’t been too bumpy. Beau was chatting up Captain Woodley as we walked to a van where a dark-skinned man in a floral shirt held a sign with Miss Elva’s name on it. Seeing as we were the only people at the airport, the sign seemed unnecessary, but I appreciated the attention to detail.
“Miss Elva? May I be de first to welcome you. My name is Calvin and I will be your personal driver and concierge dis weekend.” Calvin took Miss Elva’s hand and kissed it.
“Well, Calvin that sounds absolutely fantastic. Thank you for picking us up and seeing to our needs this weekend. This is Althea, Luna, and Beau. We’re all staying in the same villa together, I believe?” Miss Elva chatted with Calvin as he loaded our bags in the van and swept the door open so the cool air inside hit us in a blast.
We clambered in and settled into our seats while Calvin rounded the van. “You hear that? We get our own concierge.” Miss Elva smiled back at us, pleased as pie.
“Now, it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t welcome you to de island without some rum punch, so I’ll pour you some now,” Calvin said, reaching over to a little blue cooler sitting on the faded front seat. Pulling out a jug, he uncorked it and poured a pinkish-orange liquid into glasses before handing them back one at a time. Bemused, we all looked at each other. We weren’t allowed to drink with open containers in the States, but apparently the rules were different here.
“Is it okay to drink this in the car?” Luna asked politely.
Calvin threw back his head and laughed. “Of course it okay. Where else you drink it? In de hot sun? Yes, go on, drink up. I tell you about de island as we go.”
We all took a small sip.
“Delicious,” Beau decided, and I had to agree. It was the right mix of fruity and sweet, with the alcohol bite just keeping it from being overly sweet.
“How long have you been on the island, Calvin?”
“Me? I move ’ere from Nassau a few years ago. Mind you, I’m a city boy and I prefer de hustle and bustle of de bigger islands. But as I grew older I just kind of slowed down. I didn’t want dat no more. When de Flamingo King say, ‘Hey Calvin, you come work for me,’ I didn’t tink nothing of it, you hear me? It was an easy choice. Now I have myself a wife, a nice house, and I’m settled. It’s good for my old bones. Don’t need to be running no streets anymore. Dat’s a young man’s game, ya hear?”
“Mmhmm, I hear you,” Miss Elva said, and I raised an eyebrow at her. When had she run the streets? Seeing that her glass was already empty, I wondered if the alcohol had already gone to her head.
“Now, Eleuthera? It’s a cool island. You stand on de roof of de house and you see both sides. It’s thin, you see? Thin and narrow. De main road just runs up and down de island and dat’s it. Can’t get lost,” Calvin said, pointing out various places along the way on the road. He was right – at some points in the road we could easily see ocean on both sides. Along the way he pointed out food stands on the side of the road – those to visit and those to avoid – his favorite bars, and even which tourist shops overcharged. Soon enough, we took a small turn down a dirt road, leaving the pavement behind as we bumped through the low scraggly bush that seemed to hug the island.
“Dis here estate, it’s out in de bush. You’ll want to watch out for land crabs and snakes. Otherwise, nothing to worry about. But don’t go wandering too far into de bush, hey? Dis island, well, it’s volcano rock and coral. Which means there are holes and hidden caves everywhere.”
Rafe positively perked up at those words. He opened his mouth to speak, but Miss Elva held up her finger to hush him.
“You’re saying we could fall in or you don’t want us getting lost?”
“Both.”
“Are there any caves we can explore that are like… lighted and stuff?” I asked.
“Sure, there’s a few caves on de other side of de island you can go to with ladders in and people picnic in them. They cool, offer shade from de sun. Or you can snorkel to some, if you like dat stuff.” Calvin shrugged as he stopped in front of a massive gate where a guard in a booth got out and wandered over to the car. Much like Tequila Key, I thought – nobody moved too quickly if they didn’t have to.
“Hey, Calvin. How’s Sharon?”
“She good, man. Excited for dis weekend. She likes to look at all de dresses.”
“My girl too. Talking this and that about all the famous people. You gone down to Charlie’s later?”
“Might do. See what Flamingo King says he needs of us.”
“You let me know. I’ll pass by if you dere.” The guard leaned further into the window and nodded at us, his eyes stopping on Miss Elva. His smile widened and she gave him a cheeky wink.
“Fine woman dere.”
“Now you go on. That’s de Flamingo King’s woman,” Calvin said, shooing the guard out.
“He’s got good taste.”
“Dat he do. Not for you, now, you hear?”
“Sho do. Have a nice day then.” The guard waved us through, his eyes never leaving Miss Elva, who sat up straighter and preened.
“He seemed nice,” Miss Elva said.
“You watch out for de men here, Miss Elva. They’ll be all over a beautiful woman like you.”
“Don’t I know it, Calvin.”
“The one in the back too, with de weird color dress. They gonna like her too.”
“It’s rust, okay? A rust-colored dress.”
“If you say so.” Calvin’s eyes met mine in the review mirror, then he shook his head sadly as we followed the dirt road further until it once more became paved. As we approached, a row of palm trees sprang up – clearly imported – lining the paved road. The road led to a large fountain in front of a massive pink house, complete with pillars and all. At the top of the steps stood the Flamingo King himself, resplendent in a brilliant pink Bermuda shirt, his rattan hat with its wide pink band, and three dogs of varying sizes at his feet.
“What are those beasts at his feet?” Rafe hissed.
“He has dogs! That’s great!” I crowed, hoping they chased Rafe like crazy all weekend.
“It’s good to have dogs ’ere. Keeps animals out of de garden. Unwanted people too,” Calvin said with a shrug.
“Where’s Hank this weekend?” Miss Elva asked.
“At Miss Susan’s.” My mother’s high school teacher absolutely adored Hank. The feeling was mutual, and I honestly think she was disappointed that I didn’t travel more. I had even started considering dropping Hank off there on busier client days so they could keep each other company. I was sure both would be delighted with the arrangement.
“He’s not going to want to come back. That woman spoils him,” Luna said.
“Hey, I spoil him too.”
“You do. Hank has a good life. But he loves you first, and Miss Susan second.”
“I was thinking I’d drop him there a few days during the week, since she’s all alone.”
“That would be nice. You have a good heart, Althea,” Miss Elva said as Calvin slid the door open and offered her his hand.
“Elva!” the Flamingo King boomed from the top of the stairs, practically pitching himself down the steps as he raced to greet her.
“Elva?” Luna and Beau whispered in unison, turning to look at me.
I just shrugged. “She allows it.”
“Oh my,” Beau said.
“I know.”
The rest of us piled out of the car while David fawned over Miss Elva. Turning, he clapped his hands at the sight of us.
“Welcome to Flamingo Estate, where we all flamin-go together! Get it?” David threw back his head and laughed, his dogs – all of whom had pink flamingo collars on, mind you – dancing around his feet.
Miss Elva giggled.
Luna
and Beau turned to stare at me, and I shrugged.
“I know – I can’t flocking believe it.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Do you see them?” Luna hissed into my ear as we followed a chattering Flamingo King inside, the dogs loping alongside of us. “They’re everywhere.”
“What are?”
“Flamingos,” Luna said, nodding to the foyer of the house. Calvin had been sent on with our bags, promising to pick us up and take us to our villa once we’d had our tour. I, personally, would have been happy proceeding directly to the villa, but my duty this weekend was to look out for my friend, so I followed David and Miss Elva as he showed her how important he was.
“This is me with Cher. Oh, and here I am with Lenny Kravitz. He has a place on-island, you know. And this is when I was with Bono in Ireland. Nice guy, that Bono. He wanted flamingos for his estate there. Thought it would be a laugh. I got them for him too – sparkly ones! He loved them.” David was leading Miss Elva past a wall of framed photographs and accolades. I quickly learned two things – David always wore pink, and he was quite proud of whom he rubbed elbows with. I wondered if there were any pictures of Randall’s mom, and what the story was there.
I peered across the foyer to where Luna had directed my attention and realized she was right. It wasn’t as flamboyant as I thought it would be, though, I decided as we moved into the wide main sitting area past the foyer. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the stunningly blue water. Even the sand was pink here, I thought as my eyes followed the long stretch of pink beach below the windows. I wondered if he’d shipped that in, or if it was a naturally occurring thing that happened with beaches here.
The windows were framed by pastel green curtains with what I had originally thought was a pink floral print, but turned out to be an extravagant flamingo pattern. The more I looked, the more they popped out. Light blue sofas with soft pink flamingo embroidery; a brilliant blue rug with swaths of green leaves splashed across it, light pink flamingos peeking from beneath the foliage. In the corner, a gold-plated flamingo table with a glass top held a large glass carafe of water with strawberries and mint floating inside it. Even the standing lamp in the corner was a flamingo with its head tucked into the shade. And somehow it all worked.
“Tasteful flamingo,” I decided.
“If that’s a thing?” Beau said, leaning in.
“I hope the designer was well compensated for this.”
“It would take a genius to throw all this together and make it still work.”
“I’m impressed,” Luna admitted.
“Flamingo chic, I like to call it,” David said, and I jumped, realizing he’d heard us.
“I have to be honest, David. I didn’t know flamingo chic was a thing. And if you had asked me to describe it… I never would have been able to. But kudos to your designer. They really nailed it.”
“Be sure to tell Captain Woodley that. He designed it.”
“He did?” Beau exclaimed and I smiled.
“A man of many talents.”
“Indeed he is. Though how he has time to pilot when he does all the designing, I do not know. Says he loves the rush of flying. Gives him a chance to meditate and think of his designs.”
“Erm…” Now all I would think about on the way home was my pilot daydreaming about throw pillows instead of having his eyes on the radar.
“Don’t you worry, Althea, that man is a professional. He flies me anywhere I ask.”
“I’m not worried, I promise. I was just thinking maybe I’d get some design ideas from him,” I said, though I didn’t think I needed any. I was never one to shy from color, and my house was an explosion of the eclectic that suited me just fine.
“I’m sure he’ll love to chat. Nice fellow. Needs a good man in his life.” The Flamingo King shook his head sadly. “I know what it is to be lonely.”
Miss Elva put her hand on his arm and David smiled down at her.
“What happened with Randall’s mom?” I asked, then paused when everyone glared at me. What? I thought it was the perfect opening to ask about his personal life. Weren’t we here to learn more about this man?
“She left me. For the Venezuelan pool boy. Said he had more ‘heat’ than me. What does that even mean? More heat? Please. I’m a passionate man. About my job, about my family, and certainly about my women.” David grinned down at Miss Elva, and I waited for her to put him in his place.
She giggled and squeezed his arm.
I made big eyes at Luna and Beau as though to say, See? See what I’m dealing with here? Luna cleared her throat and followed them as they walked down the sweeping staircase to the sparkling pool shaped like a – you guessed it – flamingo. I could only imagine the pool architects scratching their heads and trying to work out how to configure the design.
“Now, this here pool sure did take us some time. I had to go through several firms, but I finally got it done right. Don’t she just sparkle on up?” David crowed, and I had to admit, the pool sure did sparkle in the sunshine.
“I suppose if you have a lot of people, some can hang out in the leg, if others want to be in the neck. Kind of like a lazy river,” Luna said, studying the pool.
“Exactly. Even better on a flamingo floatie,” David said.
I met Luna’s eyes. I wondered if he knew about the flamingo floatie and the dead men. Granted, it wasn’t like he was the only man to know about flamingos – the floaties were all over the place. But it seemed odd to me that they would be in town, have an expensive flamingo stolen, and then two men end up dead with a flamingo floatie.
Flocking funny business up in here, I thought.
“David, I have to ask,” Beau said, his aviators shading his eyes and mirroring the flamingo pool, “why flamingos?”
“Well, that’s quite the story. Come, let’s cool off in the cabana with a tequila and I’ll tell you.”
“Tequila?” Beau turned to me.
“Sounds flamazing,” I chirped, and David laughed, belting me so hard on the back I almost fell over.
“That’s the spirit. This one’s ready to flamingle!”
Chapter Sixteen
“You see…for a long time, I followed all the rules,” David said, one of his staff materializing at his side as we settled on the blush pink cushions in the shade of the palapa by the pool. After ordering a jug of margaritas, he steepled his hands and looked up at the thatched roof. “I lived a staid life. I worked in a private investment firm. I wore tasteful grey suits every day. I had dinner at the country club every Friday night with all the other grey suits. And, if I’m being honest, I was boring myself to death. I couldn’t remember a time that I’d truly had fun. Fun for the sake of having fun. For going against the norm. For just being ridiculous.”
We sat in rapt attention as two staff members appeared with a tray of glistening margaritas and a bowl of fried conch balls. They placed them on the white wicker table in front of us, then disappeared as silently as they’d arrived.
“Go on, enjoy,” David said, waving at the bowl. “Conch fritters. A specialty on-island, though I understand that will likely change soon. Overfished. We need to let the conch population grow again.”
I wanted to make a comment about not serving conch fritters, then, but for once I held my tongue.
“So what prompted you to change? There’s always a catalyst for a big change like that.” I asked.
“I think it was my wife leaving. Well, I’ll be honest: She didn’t leave, she just had an affair with someone more exotic. More exciting, she said. And I realized she was probably right at the time. But I left her, because trust is really important to me. Randall was in high school, and he wasn’t happy with me about it, but he came around. I filed for divorce and then I took a month’s leave from my job. I had plenty of vacation time. I ended up on Eleuthera. And instead of doing the drunken party until I can’t think straight thing, I just sat on the beach and wrote down what I really wanted out of life. I did my best to think back
to the time I had been the happiest.”
“And did you find it?” Miss Elva asked.
“I did. It was at my grandmother Doreen’s house in Florida when I was little. She was a bit eccentric, but I loved her for it. She had a yard just teeming full of fake plastic flamingos; I used to love running through them as a kid. She would take me to see the flamingos at the zoo and tell me all about them, how they were kind of like pack animals – that you never wanted to see a flamingo alone. That they needed their friends or family or partners around them. And I sat on that beach and realized that was me – I was the lonely flamingo. I hadn’t made any friends in the investment world who actually cared about me. My wife hadn’t really loved me, just the life that I gave her, and my son was an angry teenager. So what did I have to lose?”
“Your company is the Lonely Flamingo,” I breathed, absolutely shocked that I hadn’t put it together.
“It is indeed.”
“What’s that? I’m sorry, I don’t know,” Luna said, looking between us.
“It’s a massive luxury brand that caters to high-end vacations and parties all over the world. Like staging big concerts and picnics or crazy vacations. All focused on community and fun. Family reunions, all that kind of stuff. It’s really popular,” I said.
“It is.”
“So all this didn’t just come from selling lawn ornaments,” Beau said, and David boomed out a laugh.
“Nope, though I have to tell you that at this point the businesses are about fifty-fifty when it comes to what brings in the most profit. You’d be surprised at the demand for flamingo-themed items. But I tend to let people think all the money comes from that instead of from the party company, because with the party company I meet a lot of famous people and sign a lot of non-disclosures.”
“So you built all this so you wouldn’t be lonely anymore.” Luna smiled at him, and I knew he’d won her over.
“That’s right. Plus, I wanted the fun in life. And what’s more ridiculous than bright pink flamingos? Embrace the kitsch, I say!”
A Sixer of Tequila Page 7
