The Butterfly Forest (Mystery/Thriller)

by Lowe, Tom

  “Sean,” Nick said, pulling crabmeat out of the shell with his teeth. “You said the cops couldn’t find anything in there. Don’t go back in that forest. You do, and you might not ever come out.” His eyebrows pulled down, butter on his lips, eyes heavy and filled with worry. Max sat at his bare feet waiting for dropped food or handouts. She got both.

  Dave said, “So Luke Palmer is the only living eyewitness to the killing of two or three people. If they ever do find this Izzy, our former San Quentin inmate, Mr. Palmer, becomes the star witness in a murder trial with large-scale international ramifications. He needs to be held in protective custody.”

  Nick shook his head and brushed a fleck of crab meat from the tip of his nose. “I wouldn’t want to be in that dude’s shoes. Hell, Sean, after we saw you on CNN, sticking this Izzy’s dude’s face in front of those news cameras, you might have pissed this Pablo Gonzales off big time.”

  Dave added, “To say nothing of the sheriff. A most brilliant and ballsy move, indeed. I’ve watched it twice on CNN. You cleverly gave the sheriff a plausible out, and you made it sound like you’d just come from Palmer’s cell with information the sheriff and media needed at that moment. Carpe diem.”

  “May be a dumb thing,” Nick said, his moustache drooping, “because that picture of the Mexican, Izzy, was in your hand. People, especially insane people—criminals, see and hear what they want to hear and see.”

  “Palmer saw a double homicide.”

  “But Nick’s got a point. You opened up a Pandora’s Box if this Pablo Gonzales is as ruthless as the DEA believes him to be.”

  I said nothing for a moment while Dave and Nick ate. “You both have helped me a lot with Max. I really appreciate it.”

  Nick grinned. “When you start talkin’ like that, you leave. We don’t see you for a while. When we do see you, sometimes we don’t recognize you. Like the time you were hunting for the killer of the supermodel, and somebody tossed you in a ring and just about killed you. You gotta—”

  “Can you watch a woman for me?”

  Nick looked like he swallowed a piece of crab shell. Dave’s eyebrows rose and he said, “How did Nick and I get our status raised, elevated from dog sitter to woman watcher?”

  “Babe sitter,” Nick said. “Unless you want us to watch your grandmother, Sean, I’m in. Who we watchin’?”

  “Elizabeth Monroe. When she gets out of the hospital, she needs a safe haven. Nobody does neighborhood watch better than a marina. She has a girlfriend to stay with, but now that I know how big this thing is getting, I don’t know how safe she’d be there. These drug cartels generate a lot of money. Their influence and reach can be everywhere. I don’t want them finding Elizabeth again.”

  Nick said, “Ok, that’s cool. You want her on Dave’s boat or mine?”

  “She can stay on Jupiter and keep an eye on Max. I need both of you to keep your eyes on Elizabeth.”

  “We’d be delighted,” Dave said, leaning back in his deckchair and pulling the napkin from his open shirt. “We’ll welcome her like a member of the family.”

  “When’s she coming?” Nick asked.

  “Tomorrow. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  SEVENTY-TWO

  The next day I drove to Memorial Hospital. Elizabeth had already been discharged and was waiting for me. She was sitting in a wheelchair in the patient pick-up area with an orderly standing next to the wheelchair. I parked and walked around the Jeep to greet her. She stood and hugged me. “If feels so good to breathe fresh air. It feels so great to be alive, to have a second chance.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” I opened the door for her.

  I drove through the parking lot just as a white Ford van pulled up behind us. Two men were in the front seat, both wearing dark glasses. The man sitting on the passenger side had a phone to his ear.

  Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you for coming to get me. I so want a long, hot shower and a change of fresh clothes.”

  I pulled out into traffic and got in the far right lane. The van stayed two cars back. I turned right, the van followed at a distance. I couldn’t tell if the man was still on the phone.

  “The doctors and nurses were truly wonderful,” Elizabeth said. “Once they figured out I hadn’t tried to kill myself, it’s amazing how more dedicated they seemed at making sure I got better. Sean, you’ve been so quiet. Are you okay?”

  “Is your seatbelt snug?”

  “Yes, why?”

  I watched the traffic light go from green to yellow. “Oh, I thought I’d take a little detour about... now.” I swerved across three lanes of traffic and cut through a Seven Eleven parking lot.

  “Sean! What are you doing?”

  “Hold on.” I looked in the rearview mirror. The driver of the van tried to change lanes but was stuck in traffic as the light changed from yellow to red. I drove fast in the opposite direction, cut down a side street, came out to an entrance onto I-4 and headed north.

  Elizabeth turned in her seat to look behind us. “Is someone following us?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Call the police!’’

  “Tell them what?”

  “That we’re being followed!”

  “I lost the guys in the van. How good are the police when they were ready to write off your near comatose event as a suicide attempt when it was attempted murder?”

  Elizabeth was quiet.

  “Look, you really can’t go home, at least not yet. I’m not sure how safe you’d be staying at your girlfriend’s house. Also, you can’t put your friends in danger.”

  “I have nowhere else to go.”

  “Yes you do.”

  “Where?”

  “You can stay on my boat?”

  “Your boat?”

  “You’ll have to dramatically downsize. Jupiter’s only 38 feet long. She’s got two comfortable beds and a large shower with plenty of hot water. Ponce Marina is the epitome of a neighborhood watch. The docks are locked at night.”

  “That’s so thoughtful of you to offer, but I can’t keep the restaurant closed too long. Although that’s the last place I want to be right now.”

  “It’s just for a few days. Most of your customers know what’s happened in your life. They’d expect for you to be closed for awhile.”

  “I don’t know what to do. Besides, I don't have anything to wear or my make-up and stuff. Obviously, you don’t pack when you’ve been poisoned.”

  “If this Mexican family believes Molly told you something, anything that could tie Izzy Gonzales to the drug operation and Molly and Mark’s deaths, you aren’t safe.”

  “I’m tired of feeling afraid.”

  “I know you are. You’ll be safer with Dave and Nick looking in on you”

  “Where will you be, Sean?”

  “In and out.”

  “Does out mean you’re going back into the forest?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  My cell vibrated. It was Dave Collins. “Sean, I’m watching the local news and the reporter said that, in Luke Palmer’s bond hearing, the judge set it at a half million dollars.”

  “That’s better than being held on no bond or a million dollar bond.”

  “Indeed, although I doubt that Palmer has friends or family that could qualify to make bond on half a mil.”

  “I’m betting exactly that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m betting it won’t be Palmer’s family, but rather the Gonzales’ family.”

  Dave was quiet for a long moment. “If that happens, Palmer’s a walking dead man.”

  “I’m buying a GPS tracker tomorrow. Can I borrow your satellite phone?”

  “Of course. Where are you going to need that?”

  “The heart of a dark forest.”

  SEVENTY-THREE

  Despite her protests, I wouldn’t let Elizabeth stop by her house for clothes and toiletries. Instead, I took her to a woman’s clothing store
and a CVS Pharmacy. Then we drove to Ponce Marina where Dave was just coming back from a walk with Max. He had her on a leash, perspiration popping from his forehead. I made the introductions, and Dave said, “Elizabeth, I’m very sorry for the loss of your daughter. I wish I could have known her.”

  “Thank you.”

  The captain of a half-day fishing boat blew his horn heading toward Ponce Inlet. Dave added, “Welcome to our humble floating community. Sean and Max are part-time residents, the rest of us vagabonds of the sea are all tied down with ropes but relatively unleashed from the semblance of corporate commitment.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I’ve never been on a boat much larger than a ski boat. I was on a cruise once, but I think the cruise marketing people call them ships.”

  Dave nodded. “You’ll find Jupiter more comfortable than a ship with a thousand people on it, with the worst assigned to your dinner table each night. Frightening.”

  I said, “Max will be your best pal anytime you eat anything on or off Jupiter.”

  Elizabeth bent down. “Hello, Max. I hope you don’t mind me doing a sleepover for a few nights. Right now I could use a shower. Maybe we girls can stay up talking one night.” Max cocked her head and came about as close to a smile as I’d seen on her face, then looked toward the Tiki Bar sniffing the smells in the air.

  With Max in the lead, the three of us walked down L dock to Jupiter. “So this is your home on the water,” Elizabeth said with a wide smile.

  “Jupiter’s got a big shower in the main head and an extra large water heater. So take your time.” I led her inside Jupiter and acquainted her with the layout.

  “It’s amazing how large the boat is once you’re in here.”

  “Every square inch is used. I’ll put your things in the main cabin. The shower’s over there. I’ll be on the aft deck with Max when you’re done.”

  A HALF HOUR LATER, Elizabeth opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the cockpit. She was dressed in white Capri pants, sandals with a heel, and an ice pink T-shirt. Her damp hair was combed back, her face now more relaxed in the marina light. She smiled. “Now, I feel in better shape to meet the rest of your neighbors.”

  “Let’s make the rounds. C’mon, Max.”

  We walked down the dock to Nick’s boat where he was cleaning the fish he’d caught, feeding scraps to three fat pelicans and Joe, the marina cat. Max uttered a growl. Nick said, “Hot dog, ol’ Joe will box your hound dog ears and stick you in a pelican’s pouch if you piss him off.”

  “Nick,” I said, “this is Elizabeth Monroe. I told you she’d be staying on Jupiter for a few days. I appreciate you keeping a close eye out.”

  Nick smiled. “No worries on L dock with me, Dave and about twenty other live-aboards. We’re close as a big, fat Greek family. Now you join our family.”

  “Thank you,” Elizabeth said.

  He wiped his hands on a green towel, looked across the marina for a second, his eyes falling back to Elizabeth. “Sean told us about what happened… I say a prayer to God. The man who did this will be punished.”

  Elizabeth nodded. I said, “Nick, maybe you can take Elizabeth around and introduce her to some of the residents.”

  “I’d like that,” Elizabeth said. “Can we take Max along?”

  Nick grinned. “Hot dog will take us. She’s got a lot of friends here.”

  As they walked down the pier, I found Dave on his boat and said, “After I picked up Elizabeth from the hospital, I spotted a tail. Two guys in a Ford van. Couldn’t get a good look at their faces before I lost them. Thank you for making her feel at home and agreeing to help watch her.”

  “We’ll watch her like a hawk. Which begs the question, where will you be?”

  “Do you still have that .12 gauge shotgun on your boat?”

  “Yes, Nick has a couple of pistols, too.”

  “I’m going to trail Luke Palmer.”

  “What?”

  “But he won’t know it. And he’ll lead me to Frank Soto, or Izzy Gonzales or both. He’ll do it because I’m betting they’ll come for him.”

  Dave looked at me, his left eyebrow rising, his eyes trapping the afternoon light off the bay. “You said earlier that you were betting on the Gonzales family making Palmer’s bond. Is this why you interrupted that live televised news conference? You wanted to play the Gonzales family hand?”

  “I didn’t know about the Gonzales clan then.”

  “Yes, but you suspected something much deeper than Palmer. When you were holding that composite sketch, like a matador waving his cape, you were enticing the bull to come from somewhere. And now you know the big bull is Izzy Gonzales’ uncle, Pablo.”

  “Amazing how the pieces start to fall together.” I smiled.

  “I know you’re not being cavalier. But now that the genie is out of the bottle, in this case, Pablo Gonzales, he might become the raging bull. You’re no longer waving your cape with the backup of a police squad behind you. Sean, you could be grasping an empty bottle to throw at him.”

  “If I get close enough, a bottle will work fine.”

  Dave scratched his three-day growth of whiskers. He shook his head. “I try not to ever underestimate you. I’m assuming you planned this because the local constables had reached a dead-end, and you saw no other path. However, I’m thinking that you knew, if you could get an ID on the composite, it would result in a lower bond for Luke Palmer. And if Palmer made bond, he’d be a moving target for someone.”

  “He’s a target in or out of jail. On the outside is his best option because it can lead directly to the source.”

  Dave watched Nick and Elizabeth at a distance, Nick introducing her to Martha and Bill Orbison, retired teachers living aboard a houseboat. “Elizabeth’s affable, or she’s trying very hard to be in spite of the death of Molly. Your relationship with her is catapulting you into an area where your own personal danger level will be off the charts. These drug cartels buy and sell people like cattle. Frank Soto’s a good example. If you rock their boat, they have ways of finding you.”

  “Not unless I find them first.”

  “So, I was right. All along you did think they’d make Palmer’s bond.”

  “I thought someone connected to the murders would. And when it happens, we’ll see, the money will come from an anonymous source. It’s late. Bond will probably be made in the morning, but I’m calling the jail.” I put my cell on speakerphone, called information and asked to be connected to the Marion County Jail.

  “Booking, Marion County,” said a woman through background noise.

  “I’m checking on the status of a man being held in custody, Luke Palmer.”

  She said, “He bonded out before my shift started.”

  I thanked her and disconnected.

  Dave said, “Somebody made it happen very fast. Maybe he caught a bus to California.”

  “Or maybe he’s gone back into the forest.”

  SEVENTY-FOUR

  Later that night, after Elizabeth and I ate a dinner of broiled flounder and shrimp with Dave and Nick, we said good night and came back to Jupiter, Max leading the way. “I went to the master berth to grab a few of my things. She followed me in. You’ll be comfortable sleeping in here.”

  “It’s amazing how large the bedroom is,” she said, smiling. “You’d never know this room is down here just by standing up on the dock and looking at your boat.”

  “You’ll have privacy and some small degree of spaciousness.”

  “Where will you sleep? I don’t want to take your bed.”

  “Jupiter has two staterooms, and she sleeps six people comfortably. When I’m on the boat, sometimes I fall asleep on the couch in the salon, and sometimes Max and I have been known to climb topside and catch a breeze sleeping under the stars.” I stepped to a small chest near the bed, opened the top and took out a .38 Smith and Wesson.

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a loaded .38 caliber. It holds six shots.” I took the pistol out of the ho
lster and showed her where to find the safety. “If you need it, hold it with both hands, then aim at the chest and squeeze the trigger.”

  “Why are you showing me this?”

  “Someone with the Gonzales family, probably Soto, tried to kill you with arsenic, thinking it’d be ruled a suicide. Should there be a next time, they’ll be quicker and deadlier. I want to make sure there is no next time.”

  She was quiet, stepping to the porthole and watching the lights across the water. “At dinner, you said Luke Palmer is out on bond. Dave said that since Palmer supposedly saw the shooting of Molly and Mark, maybe they’d go after him before me. Do you really believe that?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you think they’ll kill Palmer?”

  “If they can find him, yes.”

  “Maybe they’ll never find him.”

  I touched her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Do you believe me?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Put your things away and join Max and me on the bridge for a nightcap and a great view of the bay.”

  Topside, I shut off the overhead lamp. In the darkness, I leaned back in the captain’s chair and watched a shrimp boat slide out of the marina and chug into the Halifax River. The shrimper’s running lights pulsed in the dark wake as the boat headed south a half mile before it would take a left into the inlet and emerge into the Atlantic Ocean. I caught the scent of blooming mangroves and wet barnacles hugging the air while the tide pulled and eased the ropes holding Jupiter.

  A few minutes later, Elizabeth climbed the steps to the bridge. She’d changed into jeans and a light blue sweater. She sat next to Max, who had drifted off to sleep on the bench seat. I asked, “Would you like a drink? I have scotch, vodka and Irish whiskey up here. Wine and beer are down below.”

  “Vodka’s fine. Water, ice and some lime, if you have it.”

  I opened the small liquor cabinet and fixed the drinks, wrapping Elizabeth’s glass with a napkin. She sipped once and looked out across the marina to the Ponce Lighthouse. “It’s beautiful up here at night. You can see from the river to the ocean.”