The Complete Mystery Collection

by Michaela Thompson

  “Yes ma’am. Surely,” said Pearl. Her face was closed, unexpressive.

  Maybe she doesn’t like being singled out, Lily thought. I’ve embarrassed her. “I just wanted to tell you I haven’t had a chance to talk with Woody about the poems,” she said. “I tried, but he didn’t want to see them right then. He had just arrested Wesley.”

  Pearl’s hands were twisting a white handkerchief. “Yes ma’am.”

  Lily looked at her closely. “Is everything all right, Pearl?”

  Pearl closed her eyes and nodded.

  “Well,” Lily pushed on gamely, “I’m going to talk to Woody again as soon as things quieten down. I’ll let you know what happens.”

  Pearl said, “Thank you, ma’am,” and turned back to her companions.

  Feeling that she had somehow mishandled the encounter, Lily picked through the gravestones toward her car, stopping occasionally to talk with acquaintances. When she reached the Nash, she looked back. The canopy was almost deserted now, the afternoon sun glinting off the bright satin ribbons on the flower arrangements. Pearl stood alone now, near the grave, her head bent. The only one of us who’s really sorry to see Diana go, Lily thought. Diana was lucky to have even one person who cared about her that much. A feeling of bereavement that she recognized as having nothing to do with Diana came over her. She got in the car and headed back to the store.

  By the time she arrived, her head was once again full of the morning’s adventures. A secret moonshine still on the island. Why, she kept asking herself, hadn’t she called Woody immediately to tell him? It was, she knew, nothing more than misplaced pride. He hadn’t listened to her other suggestions, so why should she hand him a bunch of moonshiners on a plate? Let him find them for himself, the way she had.

  But there was another reason she hadn’t called. Despite the fact that he’d knocked her down and scared her half to death, she felt a sneaking liking for the man named Josh. He had tried to apologize and had seemed to want to tell her something. He had given the impression of being in some sort of trouble. But, of course, she reproved herself, none of that meant he wasn’t dangerous. She had best keep her sympathies under control.

  She sent Aubrey back to his bees, and the afternoon wore on. Schoolchildren bought drinks and candy, messed up the comic books, and left. Passengers for the last ferry idled in, picking up an extra quart of milk, a loaf of bread, a bag of corn meal. Lily yawned. The day’s exertions were catching up with her.

  The ferry left on its final run. She squinted out the screen door, gauging the weather. It might rain, she told herself, and at that moment the faintest of breezes touched her cheek.

  She swept the floor, the door left open for late customers, then put the broom and dustpan in the back room. When she returned, Josh was standing by the door.

  He made a conciliatory gesture, looking nervous. “It’s all right.”

  Lily’s hands felt cold. She edged along the shelves and picked up a large can of tomatoes. “You do one wrong thing and I’ll throw this whole shelf of cans at you.”

  “Don’t start throwing anything.” Josh’s fingers touched the scratch on his cheek. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He edged into the room. “You said the sheriff was your son-in-law. Have you told him about today?”

  “I don’t have to answer any questions. If you want to tell me something, tell me.”

  “Well, this is it. I know you think I’m some moonshiner out in the woods. But there’s more going on than that. It’s real important that you don’t tell the sheriff or anybody else about me.”

  “You ambush me and hold a gun on me. Why should I do what you say?”

  The color in Josh’s face deepened. “Because I work for the Beverage Department. And it looks like you’re about to mess me up bad.”

  “You’re a revenuer?”

  “That’s what I get called sometimes. And worse things.”

  Lily almost put down the tomatoes, then changed her mind. “How do I know that’s the truth? And why are you telling me?”

  “I’m working under cover, so I don’t carry identification. You can call the department in Tallahassee and ask them if Josh Burns works for them, and they’ll tell you yes.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re Josh Burns.”

  He shook his head. “No. And I don’t know what I could do to prove I am, short of totally ruining my operation, which you’re about to do for me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you tell the sheriff, it’s going to mess up the whole thing. He doesn’t know I’m here. I’m working on a tip from an informer. For all we know, the sheriff may be involved himself. You tell him about us, that lets him know we know. My job is to find out who the head man is. There’s a big bankroll behind the operation. It may be somebody the sheriff is friendly with.”

  Lily knew that Woody was hand in glove with the Calhouns, but the idea that he might be paid off by another group of moonshiners as well was disturbing. “Do you think he’s mixed up with them?”

  “I’ve got no reason to think so. But just in case, I don’t want him knowing I’m here.”

  Lily thought. The whole thing could be a cock-and-bull story to keep her from turning them in. And yet—she looked at Josh, who was gnawing his lip, his hands in his back pockets. “Have a drink,” she said, nodding at the cooler.

  He got a strawberry soda and took a long swallow. “Did you make that phone call? The one about Diana?” Lily asked.

  Josh sighed. “I was hoping you’d let that go. Yes ma’am, I made the call. I found her body.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “I was doing my job.”

  Lily put the tomatoes down. “Does that mean Diana—” Josh shook his head. “I’ve told you all I’m going to say. Knowing any more could get you in trouble. You’ve got to decide what you’re going to do.”

  In the silence that followed, Josh finished his drink and put it in the wooden crate by the cooler. Lily straightened the canned goods, setting them in neat rows. She turned around. “I have one more question.”

  For the first time, Josh smiled. “I’m getting used to it.”

  “You said you had an informer. Who is it?”

  He shook his head. “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t know. We got a letter, not signed, saying there was a big new still starting up on the island. I came to see if it was true.”

  If Josh cleaned himself up, Lily thought, he’d be a fairly nice-looking young man. “All right,” she said. “I won’t tell Woody—or anybody. Not unless something else happens.”

  “Ma’am, that’s a big relief to me,” Josh said.

  “My name is Lily. Lily Trulock.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lily.” Josh dug into his pocket. “I’ve got to make a call, and then I’ve got somebody to see.” He held up a nickel. “I’ve got the change this time.” He waved and was gone.

  As she finished cleaning up the store, Lily wondered if she had done the right thing. She locked the cash box and closed the door of the back room. The faint sound of an outboard motor told her Josh must be on his way to see whoever he had to see.

  Well, she’d given her word, and she wasn’t going back on it. She locked the door and started out for her usual walk along the beach.

  35

  Tupelo Branch

  Josh’s hands were shaking as he dialed the operator in the phone booth outside Trulock’s Grocery. He had never had to reveal his identity during an undercover job before. That plus the averted ambush last night meant things were not as smooth as they should be. He wondered what Eddie would say. Maybe Eddie would want him to give up and come home. The thought was obscurely comforting, until he remembered Sue Nell. That would mean he couldn’t see Sue Nell. But on the other hand he’d be shut of St. Elmo, and Murphy, and that damn island. He tapped the glass with his fingers.

  Could he trust Lily Trulock? He thought he could. She might be nosy, but she didn’t se
em foolish or flighty. Keeping a store out here probably got lonely, made her want to keep an eye on other people’s business. And now she knew a great deal about his. He wondered what Eddie would say.

  As it happened, he wasn’t going to find out. “He’s long gone, Josh,” Louise said. “It’s lucky you caught me and not the night boys. I just stayed late to finish typing some reports.”

  “I wanted to tell him—”

  “He did leave a message for you,” Louise went on. “Let me see here.”

  Over the static on the line, Josh imagined he could hear papers shuffling on Louise’s desk. “He said if you called to tell you the people upstairs are looking at the situation, but for right now there’s no change in your assignment.”

  “There are some things I needed to tell him.”

  “About the congressman’s daughter?”

  “No. Not about that.”

  “Has the situation down there changed?”

  “It looks like the Calhouns are on our trail.” He told her about the previous night’s events. “Other than that—” He stopped to think. If he could trust Lily Trulock, there was no reason to tell Louise he’d revealed his identity. He’d wait until he could speak directly to Eddie. “I guess that’s all,” he said. “I got a real mess on my hands here, Louise.”

  “I’ll tell him. Take it easy, Josh.”

  Take it easy, thought Josh as he wrapped the starter cord around his motor. He gave it a vicious pull and, naturally, the motor coughed and died. Doing it again, more slowly, he went over his mental map of the waterways around Palmetto. Tupelo Branch might be as much as a half hour away. Murphy had been almost amiable about letting Josh come to the mainland—“to check things out,” Josh had said. Although Josh knew, rationally, that Murphy simply trusted him more after last night, he still couldn’t escape the fear that Murphy suspected something and was setting a trap for him. The smart thing to do would be to get back early. But instead of heading for the island, Josh turned his boat toward the canal.

  In fifteen minutes, he swung into the muddy expanse of the Big Cypress River. The water, slightly choppy in the rising wind, had a silvery sheen in the fading light, the banks lined so thickly with trees that they looked black. Soon he’d reach the place where the Little Cypress came in. And down that a ways, on the left, Jones Branch, Bobcat Branch, Tupelo Branch. He opened his motor to full throttle.

  A mass of tupelo bushes, laden with long, olive-shaped berries, stood beside the mouth of Tupelo Branch. Some of the berries floated in the water, bobbing in his wake as he turned the corner. The branch was not wide and was overhung with cypresses, their misshapen knees rearing out of the shallows at the water’s edge. He followed several bends before seeing a weathered dock on the right. There were no boats tied to it.

  Tears stung Josh’s eyes, and he was swept by a disappointment so intense it surprised him. He had never considered the possibility that she wouldn’t be there. He slowed and looked at the camp. It was built of rough timber, and stood on pilings against the rising of the river. There was a screened porch along the front, and the roof was tar paper. He could barely make out the privy, down a trail in the back. The place looked deserted.

  Maybe this isn’t the one, maybe she’s on down the creek, Josh thought. He continued for ten minutes and passed another camp. This one had several boats tied up—none of them Sue Nell’s bateau—and was brightly lit with kerosene lanterns. Several men sat in the front, swatting mosquitos and drinking beer. This could go on forever. I got to get back, Josh thought. He turned the boat around.

  When he reached the first camp, Sue Nell was on the dock, tying up her bateau. She turned as he came closer, standing perfectly still while he drifted in.

  “Looky here,” she said, her voice tight.

  “I said I’d find you.”

  Standing next to her on the dock, he felt awkward. She was wearing yellow shorts and a white shirt. Her hand, when he took it, felt clammy. “I wanted to see you. Even for a minute,” he said.

  “No sense standing out here and letting the mosquitos eat us up,” she said. “Come on inside.”

  There were cots on the porch, and roughly built bunk beds inside, one of them made up. On an L-shaped counter in a corner stood a camp stove and an upside-down dishpan. Nearby, a pump and a sink. A shelf held canned goods, cotton twine, a mold for making lead weights, a pistol, a tackle box, a straw hat.

  “Not a bad place,” said Josh, while Sue Nell lit a lantern. When it was hung on a nail she turned to him. “Why are you looking for me?”

  “I can’t forget you.”

  She shook her head. “You’ve been with women before.”

  “Not like with you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you? Why are you here really?”

  “I told you.”

  “Not who you are.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter.”

  “I’m a moonshiner.”

  She shook her head again, more vehemently. “I’ve been around moonshiners all my life. I’m married to a moonshiner. Something about you isn’t right.”

  “Forget it.” Josh moved toward her. “I told you it doesn’t matter.”

  Her eyes, when he looked into them, were full of dread. “This is the last thing I need,” she said.

  “Me too. Exactly the last thing,” said Josh. He touched her hair. “I want to be with you.”

  When they lay down together and he unbuttoned her blouse, her body was hot to his touch. “You’ve been in the sun,” he said. She shook her head.

  “Then you have a fever.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “a fever,” and pulled his head down to her.

  The thought that he would never be able to let go of Sue Nell was momentary in Josh’s mind. Then he closed his eyes and gave himself up to her.

  36

  Elmore Takes Sides

  “It’s over on the island,” said Elmore. “I watched the boat the whole way over there.”

  Some of the recent lines of strain had eased from Elmore’s face. His pale eyes were timidly jubilant.

  Bo Calhoun signaled to Moody Winchester for another drink and lit a cigarette. “You better be damn sure.”

  “I’m sure, Bo. I’m positive.”

  The evening was young at Sal’s Roadhouse. The regular customers were drifting in. Hank Williams blared from the jukebox. A breeze gusted in whenever the door opened.

  “How did you happen to see the boat?” Bo regarded Elmore closely through drifting smoke.

  “I figured where they’d dock. Not too many places you could dock a boat the size of that one. Had to be the mouth of the canal. They come to my place, tried to scare me. Didn’t do them no good. When they left, I went by the back roads. I know them roads, Bo. That’s why I been such a good distributor for you. I know them roads, and I know who lives there—”

  “That’s right, you know the roads.”

  “So I got to the landing before they did. I seen the boat. I hid in the trees. In a couple of minutes, they showed up.”

  “And you watched them over to the island.”

  “The south end, Bo. Where nobody ever goes. That’s where they went. I could see them easy with their light on.”

  Bo smoked, staring at the scarred wood of the tabletop. Elmore fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. “I hope that’s what you wanted to know, you and your brothers.”

  “That’s what we wanted to know.”

  “I’m glad, because you know what?” Elmore gulped his beer. “I felt bad about the way things have been. It was my mistake. I admit that freely. I should have known when I was well off.”

  “Yes, you should.”

  “That’s right, Bo, and I want you to know that from now on—

  Bo looked at Elmore for the first time. “From now on, you little son of a bitch, you stay out of my way.”

  Elmore looked stricken. “But Bo—”

  “You stay out of my way, and you don’t speak
my name or the name of any Calhoun. If I hear you have, I’ll kill your ass. You sell me out again, I’ll come after you.”

  “What about being distributor? I got to have some way to live.”

  “If you want to live, you steer clear of me and steer clear of the moonshine business. You’re lucky you aren’t dead already.” Although Bo’s face was stiff, the tone of his voice was almost casual. “Now get the hell away from me, and don’t ever come near me again.”

  Elmore sat still for a moment. Then he rose slowly to his feet. “I know you’re mad,” he said.

  Bo ground out his cigarette. He didn’t look at Elmore.

  “Maybe you’ll change your mind,” said Elmore. He waited, but Bo didn’t reply. “Good-bye, Bo,” Elmore said. He turned and left the bar.

  Bo smoked another cigarette before going to the pay telephone in the corner. When his call went through, he said, “Give me Sonny.” Hank Williams throbbed “Your Cheatin’ Heart” while he waited on the line. Finally, he said, “It’s over on the island. Tell the boys. We’ll go tomorrow.”

  37

  Revelations

  Clouds were banking over the island, and the tide was rising. Lily switched off the weather advisory, which had told her no more than she had guessed from the morning sky. There was a tropical storm in the Gulf, approaching hurricane strength, and it was heading toward St. Elmo. The air was moving, the atmosphere subtly changed. Lily hunted for boards to nail, if need be, over the store windows.

  While she worked, she thought about Josh and his secret. She was embarrassed to admit to herself how pleased she was that he had told her. When she tried to explain it, the only words that came to mind were Something Has Happened.

  Lily’s life had not been barren of events. But those events had been the ones everybody knew about: marriage, childbirth, illness, quarrels, reconciliations. Good years and bad years. Now, she was involved in something most people never experienced. Undercover operations, secret agents. She had been sought out and taken into confidence. The importance of the trust she was keeping—it was a life and death matter, really—made her shiver with an apprehensive thrill.