by Janie DeVos
“Lily,” I heard her hoarsely whisper. I looked up to see that she had turned her face toward me, and though her right eye was swollen shut, her left eye was open and she was looking at me.
“Olivia, darling, don’t move,” I whispered in a voice nearly as hoarse as hers as I gently placed my hand on the crown of her head. I was fighting back the tears with everything I had. It wouldn’t do for me to break down at this point. My sister was already broken; I had to be her strength.
“Do you think anything is broken?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered.
“Don’t try to move yet. Let me get you some water first,” I said, and quickly ran to the kitchen, filled a glass from the tap and then returned to her side.
I gently lifted her head so that she could take a small sip, and then carefully lowered it back down. “Good,” she whispered, licking her cracked, dried lips. “Tastes good.”
“When you’re ready, we’ll try to get you up, okay?”
“’Kay,” she replied in a voice a little less hoarse.
Olivia was able to drink most of the water, and after several minutes, I gently slid my right arm beneath her and helped her to sit up. She stayed there for a moment before I helped her to her feet and then guided her over to the couch. With each step, she grimaced and softly moaned in pain. Though nothing seemed broken on the outside, I was terribly concerned about what might be happening on the inside. If Olivia had internal bleeding, I needed to get her help, but I was afraid to try to take her in the boat. With the water as choppy as it was, I was afraid that bouncing her around on the waves might make things far worse than they already were. Before I left to get some help, I needed to know who had done this to my sister.
“Who did this to you, Olivia? Can you tell me that?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, which angered me instantly.
“Don’t try to protect them, Olivia! They’ve beaten you to a pulp. You tell me who did this to you and why!”
“I don’t know,” she cried in frustration, and I could see in her one open eye that she was being honest. “I’ve never seen them before. There were three,” she added, anticipating my next question.
“Do you know who might have sent them? Who were you running the booze for?”
She hesitated, as though she was afraid to tell me.
“Who are you protecting, Olivia? Who?”
“I’m not protecting anyone,” she cried, and I was happy to hear more strength in her voice.
“Who were you running the booze for, Olivia?”
“The Doxley brothers and Chick Belvedere,” she whispered as she closed her one uninjured eye, and then lifted her forearm to cover both. “Chick,” she confirmed again, but more softly.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “Oh, Olivia.”
I got up off the couch and walked to the front window, which looked out at the Atlantic Ocean. Holding my hands up, I braced myself against the window frame and watched as the shadows of clouds created various shades of blue on the choppy water. Suddenly, a seagull dove nearly straight down into the waves and then shot back up into the air a moment later with a baitfish clamped in its beak. Leaning my head against the glass, I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. A million questions were racing through my head but I needed to try to slow them down, as well as push down the anger. I was afraid to say anything because what I wanted to say would be something I’d regret for the rest of my life. At that moment, I wanted to call her a traitor, a mobster’s hussy, and tell her that the bond we’d shared had been broken, but I knew it would serve no purpose. And it might convince her to let go of the tenuous hold on life she had at the moment. I literally bit my tongue and watched the seagull hunt for its supper.
Chapter 18
Questions
I got Olivia cleaned up as much as I could without putting her in the shower, and then I made her some tea. Fortunately, her mouth was undamaged, so I was able to get some bread and cheese into her. It was the first food she’d had in more than two days. Because I couldn’t take her with me, I wanted to try to stabilize her as much as I could before leaving to get some help. As she reclined on the couch, slowly drinking her tea, I sat on the floor next to her. With some coaxing from me, she told me quite a bit about what happened. I hated for her to use up so much of her strength, but if she didn’t make it, then I had to know who had done this, or might have done this, and some possible reasons why.
Apparently, after Albert Doxley saw her at the Lemon Tree, he decided to involve her in the smuggling of alcohol, using his legitimate business as a cover. Before Olivia came along, Rusty Hollister was their go-between man. Once he was gone, Albert and August needed to bring someone else on board. ‘No one would ever think a little innocent-looking doll like you would be involved with such goings on,’ he explained to her. Because she’d had a terrible crush on her boss for some time, and because he was offering her an enormous amount of money for ‘working a little overtime,’ as he put it, she’d agreed. And because she had, Albert involved my sister in exporting all manner of legal things while including liquor with much of the cargo. Although the Doxley brothers had clients all up and down the eastern seaboard, one of the biggest was Chick Belvedere. The fact that he was close by made their transactions with him very quick, easy, and frequent.
Olivia’s main job was acting as the liaison between the smugglers bringing in the liquor and the Doxley brothers. She frequently met the rumrunners at a designated location and paid them. They then loaded the liquor into whatever form of transportation she provided, which was often the Doxley-owned runabout; the same one I’d seen on the beach when I arrived. The worst of her revelations was that more often than not, she met up with the runners at our family’s cottage on Key Biscayne. Even though it was six miles south of Miami, it was still within the three miles that the United States governed. Still, it was far safer to rendezvous with the smugglers off shore at the cottage than on the mainland. Once Olivia had the contraband, she took it back to the dock at the Doxleys’ warehouse and then the brothers would handle it from there. Francine had played a huge part in the smuggling, too. Her job as a switchboard operator enabled her to learn where the police, coast guard or border patrol were, which allowed the Doxleys to avoid them. If they got word that the authorities were on their way, a lantern was set in an upstairs window of the warehouse. When Olivia saw it as she was heading toward the dock, she would dock at any of a number of different locations, including our parents’ marina, until the coast was clear.
Knowing how lucrative the smuggling and selling of alcohol was, Chick wanted in, so he and Albert had formed a group to purchase the Lemon Tree. In the empty space below, where the former bakery had been, they decided to run an upholstery business. There, large amounts of liquor could be hidden inside of couches, recliners and such, and easily shipped out.
“Olivia, do you have any idea why you were beaten like this?” I asked as calmly as I could.
She nodded, and then softly said, “They wanted the booze, and they took all of it; every last bottle of a hundred and twenty cases; sixty of bourbon and sixty of rum. It was Chick’s booze. He gave the Doxleys more than $7,000 for it, but he’d have made more than $90,000 selling it retail in his hotel after givin’ the Doxleys their cut. The men that beat me came in right after it had been dropped off.” A single tear ran down her left cheek. “They beat me bad, Lil,” she whimpered, sounding just like she had when she was eight years old and was telling me about the bully who had pushed her around during recess. The following day, I skipped class to be at the playground when Olivia’s class came out. Once again, Roger Coffee pushed my sister down, causing her to land painfully on her elbow and start crying. I flew into a rage and gave the bully a taste of his own medicine by pushing him down, face-first, into the dirt and sitting on him while painfully twisting his arm up behind him until he cried ‘Uncle!’ When I final
ly let him up, he cried like a baby, humiliating himself in front of his entire second grade class. He never bothered my sister again.
“Olivia, I know you don’t know the men who did this to you, but do you have any idea who might be trying to get back at you, or the Doxleys, or Chick?”
As soon as I asked the question, I knew the answer. It became crystal clear to me but I wanted to see what Olivia had to say.
“Buddy DeMario,” she said softly but firmly, confirming what I’d been thinking. “The Doxleys and Chick bought the Lemon Tree right out from under him,” Olivia explained. “Albert said Buddy’s absolutely furious with him and August, but seeing red when it came to Chick. Buddy and Chick hate each other, ya know. Hate each other!” she emphasized in an eerie whisper. “After the guy kicked me in the ribs, I heard him tell the other guys that they needed to get the booze loaded up; that Buddy was waitin’ for them and it was gettin’ late.”
“Olivia,” I said, stroking the unmatted hair on the left side of her forehead. “One last question and I’ll let you rest. Were you having an affair with any of these men?” I didn’t want to know, really, but I needed all the information I could get in order to understand where every piece stood on the chessboard.
“Albert,” she answered candidly.
At that point, she seemed absolutely drained, and, in truth, so was I, but I needed to leave immediately to find help for her. Though I hated to leave her, I felt a little better about it since she’d had some food and water, and seemed a bit stronger. I covered her up, lit a small fire in the fireplace, and told her I’d be back in some hours with help. She didn’t want me to go, and she didn’t want anyone else involved, but I told her she was badly injured, and that if she had internal bleeding, it was imperative we get help from someone who knew what they were doing. I prayed that that someone would be Neil Aldrich. She begged me not to tell our parents, at least not yet, and I agreed, mainly because I didn’t want to upset her by arguing. Besides, there was some logic in not telling them, at least for now. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my parents and grandparents would go after Buddy, Chick and the Doxley brothers. All of them. But there’d been enough bloodshed already, and until we figured out exactly who was responsible, there didn’t need to be any more. Besides, I didn’t want to spend the next twenty-five years visiting all of them in prison.
As I made my way back into the bay from the Atlantic, I had to decide which way to go. I only knew of two places to check for Neil: the Miami Hospital in downtown Miami and the Allison Hospital on the Beach. Because I was closest to downtown, I headed to the Miami Hospital first.
I pulled my boat into the dock, praying the whole time that Neil would be there, and ran inside to the receptionist’s desk. My prayers were answered when she confirmed that he was in, and she paged him for me. Within five minutes, Neil came running down the central staircase and out into the lobby. He looked stunned to see me, but I wasted no time in pulling him aside and giving him a brief rundown of what had happened. I told him I needed him to assess Olivia before I tried to move her from Key Biscayne. Less than five minutes later, after Neil called another doctor to cover for him, he grabbed his medical bag and we were flying down the bay, riding the tops of waves as I ran the boat as hard as I could to get back to my sister.
The engine was loud, so we didn’t talk much during the ride over. Instead, I focused on the water in front of me, while Neil sat quietly by my side. As we came within sight of the cottage, I angled the boat toward the shore, killed the engine, and allowed the boat to run up on the sand. My ears rang after cutting off the engine, but I was still able to hear the sound of another engine approaching the island. This one, however, was in the sky rather than on the water. Looking up, I saw a seaplane with the familiar Island Air logo flying very low and just off shore from us. Suddenly, the right wing tipped, letting us know that the pilot had seen us before the plane banked off to the east, most likely headed for the Bahamas. Without a doubt, I knew it was Scott Monroe. I was also certain that Scott thought he had caught Neil and me in a compromising position as we headed toward a deserted-looking cottage in the middle of a beautiful island oasis. The fact that he would think it bothered me. It bothered me quite a lot.
Chapter 19
Answers
While Neil assessed Olivia, I washed the dirty dishes and straightened the living and dining room. While quite a few things had been knocked over, just one small angel figurine was ruined. It was easy enough to put things back in place so that my parents wouldn’t suspect such a violent episode had occurred.
The last thing we did before leaving Key Biscayne was sink the Doxleys’ runabout. I didn’t want any evidence anywhere near the place that would connect Olivia, or anyone in our family, to the illegal goings on. Neil drove the Doxleys’ boat out about a mile northeast of Key Biscayne, while Olivia and I followed him. Once we’d gotten into deep water, Neil pulled the boat’s drain plug and knocked several more holes in the bottom with a hammer, then he hopped aboard our runabout and we drove away as quickly as we could without bouncing Olivia around more than necessary. We had her torso taped up, and the rest of her bundled up to help cushion her. Every so often, I turned around to see whether the Doxleys’ boat had gone under yet, and once it was out of sight under the waterline, we all breathed a sigh of relief.
Against Neil’s better judgment, and mine, we brought Olivia back to Francine’s house. She was adamant about not going to the hospital. Neil was concerned about keeping her calm, so we let her have her way. Olivia said she didn’t want anyone seeing her so beaten up, especially our parents, nor did she want them to know what had taken place. She decided to tell them that she had the flu. So many people had come down with it recently; it seemed like a plausible reason for her stay away from home for a good week or so. Though Neil would have preferred that my sister go to the hospital, he didn’t believe that she had any more than a few broken or bruised ribs, and he said there was nothing more that could be done for them.
Fortunately, the Hollisters’ home was on the bay in Coconut Grove, making it easy enough to go straight there instead of having to transfer Olivia to a car. Francine wasn’t home from work when we got there. I was tempted to stay until she came in, but it was close to the end of the day and I needed to get Neil back to the hospital dock. I needed to return home myself, otherwise, my parents would start to wonder where I was. After making sure Olivia had everything she needed until Francine came home, I drove Neil back to the hospital.
“Neil, I honestly don’t know what we would have done without you today,” I told him at the hospital’s dock as the boat sat in idle. “I don’t know who I would have turned to.”
“I’m just glad I was here,” he said, laying his hand up against the right side of my face. “If I hadn’t been, though, you could have called me. You know I’d come.”
“You’ve been a good friend to both Olivia and me today,” I said, covering his hand with mine.
“I’d like to be more than that to you, Lily. You know that.” His dark brown eyes watched me closely, gauging my reaction.
“Now’s not the time to talk about that, Neil,” I replied, suddenly feeling exhausted.
“It’s not. You’re right.” He smiled softly then climbed out of the boat and stood there watching me.
I lifted my hand in farewell, then pulled away from the pilings. About fifty yards out, I turned around and saw that he was still there. Then, he turned and started up the pathway toward the hospital’s backdoors. As I watched him walk away, I thought about what I’d said; about it not being the right time to talk about our relationship and I asked myself when I thought that right time might be. On a day when so many secrets were revealed, I finally had to admit to myself that I wasn’t sure there’d ever be one.
Chapter 20
In the Crosshairs
The first thing I did the following morning was call Olivia. My sister said
she was still in a lot of pain, though that was to be expected, but I was encouraged to hear that her voice sounded stronger and that she’d slept fairly well, only waking up a time or two when she tried to turn over. The second thing I did that morning was visit the Doxley Import/Export Company.
I was more than a little curious about what the brothers would say when they learned Olivia had been beaten and their liquor stolen. No doubt, they knew things had gone down badly since both my sister and their alcohol were no-shows, but I needed to know what they were planning to do about it. I just prayed to the good Lord above that our little conversation ended with everyone walking away in one piece. There was always the possibility that things could turn ugly. Just in case they did, I had my .38 pistol in my purse. Though I hated taking it with me, I had to remind myself that these were not nice men—far from it—and that it was better to come prepared than to have to be repaired if things went badly.
When I drove into the parking lot, the first thing I noticed was that there was only one vehicle there. It was a dark blue truck, with roughly hewn horizontal boards enclosing the sides of the open bed, and the words “Jonah’s Janitorial Services” hand painted rather crookedly in white on the driver’s door. Because it was Thursday, and nearly 9:00 a.m., more vehicles should have been there. The fact that there weren’t indicated to me that something was very off.
