The River to Glory Land

by Janie DeVos

  Chapter 39

  Brotherly Love

  We turned south onto Brickell Avenue, in Scott’s Aston Martin, after checking the parking lot at Tobacco Road. Even at the early evening hour of seven-thirty, there were quite a few vehicles parked there, but neither Daddy’s truck nor Granddaddy’s Landau were among them. As we raced down the road, paralleling the bay with the top down, the wind rushed over my face and through my hair. At any other time, it would have been exhilarating, but now it gave testimony to the great urgency we felt to find my family members before they confronted Buddy DeMario about something we were sure he had no part in. Neither of us said a word as we drove the mile or so to Buddy’s Mediterranean-style estate on the point where the road jutted out into the bay. It sat among the mansions known as ‘Millionaires’ Row,’ and it left no question as to how lucrative the mobster’s business endeavors had been.

  A ten-foot high coral rock wall enclosed the palatial two-story estate, which had an arched entryway flanked by enormous orange bougainvilleas. The branches of the glorious flowering vines had been shaped and trained to grow up and over the arch, framing a heavy, medieval-looking wooden door with a huge brass knocker at its center.

  We drove around to the west side, looking for one of my family’s vehicles, and found Daddy’s truck parked in a swale. Scott pulled up behind it, then switched the ignition off and turned to face me. “We’re gonna go around to the front and see if they’ll let us in. One thing’s for sure; people like Buddy don’t like unexpected guests. Now, you listen to me, Lily,” he said, looking into my eyes. “You do what I tell you to do, no matter what. You understand me?” My mouth was so dry, I simply nodded. “Okay,” he said with a small smile of reassurance.

  “Do you have a gun? Shouldn’t we take one in?” I asked.

  “No way,” Scott adamantly replied. “They’re gonna search us just as sure as God made little green apples. Don’t let it throw you when they do. They do it to everyone they consider a threat. And the way we’re barging in on them, believe me, they’ll consider us a threat. Okay,” he said, turning to look at the house and taking a deep breath. “Here we go.” He opened the car door and got out, and I did as well.

  We hurried down the sidewalk to the front door and just as Scott lifted the knocker, we heard shouting coming from the side yard. It was Buddy’s heated voice. Grabbing my hand, Scott pulled me up against the wall, and, staying within its shadow, we made our way around to the side. Another heavy wooden door was imbedded in the wall, and though it was not arched like the front door, it did have a knocker. I started to reach for it, but Scott grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to him. “Don’t make a sound until we know what’s going on. We don’t know who all is in there.”

  “Well, we know my family is,” I whispered heatedly.

  “Lily, we’ve got to get some idea about what’s goin’ on! Let’s listen for a minute.”

  As we stood there, I heard my father’s voice responding to something someone had said. “Well, that’s what she said, damn it! Even if she did have the hell beaten out of her, she was still capable of hearing!” It was obvious that they were in the midst of an escalating argument.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what your kid said she heard!” Buddy shouted. “She’s wrong. Period!” Then he laughed sarcastically. “Honest to God, I don’t know if you guys have brass balls or shit for brains, comin’ here like this! Gil,” he shouted to someone. “Get these sons of bitches outta here. Take ’em—”

  That was all I had to hear. Foregoing the knocker, I pounded on the door with as much force as I could. “Buddy, it’s Lily Strickland! Let me in!”

  “Shit!” was all Scott could say, while I heard Buddy’s voice boom, “What the hell?”

  “Lily, you keep calm no matter what, you hear me?” Scott whispered angrily. “Otherwise, we’re gonna all end up in the bay.” Just then, the door was yanked open and the muzzles of two guns were pointed at our faces.

  Two huge men grabbed each of us by an arm and pulled us into Buddy’s torch-lit side yard, shutting and latching the door behind us. As one frisked me with one hand while holding a gun to my head with his other, the other man did the same to Scott. Both frightened and humiliated, I looked off to my right and saw Buddy walking toward us. To my horror, I saw my father and grandfather standing in the background with their hands in the air while two more of Buddy’s men kept them in place with guns pressed against the sides of their heads. Seeing me, Daddy groaned and shut his eyes in frustration, while my grandfather just stared at me. Even from that distance, I could feel his angry eyes boring into me.

  “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here,” Buddy said sarcastically around a fat cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth. He continued to approach us. “I’d ask, ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’ except I already know.” He pulled the cigar out and spat bits of tobacco off to the side, then, narrowing his eyes, he walked right up to Scott. “Monroe, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Scott Monroe. Call your men off, DeMario. We’re here to clear some things up, not knock you all off,” he said as he jerked his arm free from the hand of the man who was tightly gripping it. “That’s one hell of a way to greet your company,” he said, looking from the bodyguard back to Buddy.

  “Here’s the thing, kid,” Buddy said as he stuck his cigar back into his mouth, then pushed his jacket back in order to rest his hands on his broad hips. “I didn’t invite no one over here tonight. I don’t much like unexpected surprises, and, lucky me, I got four of ’em tonight.”

  “Rest assured, this isn’t a social call,” Scott said defiantly. “You won’t need to pull out your best china. But for your sake, and everyone else’s, you might want to hear us out.”

  “You mean for your sake,” Buddy corrected him, smiling at him with tobacco-stained teeth.

  “Well, if you’re gonna be nit-picky about it, then fine. But, we’ve got some information that might make all of us real chummy again.” Scott smiled smoothly in return. The ball was in Buddy’s court now, and everyone knew it.

  Buddy’s eyes narrowed. “And just how the hell do you figure that?”

  “Your name is being linked to the severe beating of the daughter and granddaughter of some mighty respected men around these parts. Now, if it was me gettin’ framed for it, I’d sure as hell want to know who the wise-guy is that’s trying to double-cross me. And, if you’ll call off your guys,” he said, glancing around at all of us, “we might be willing to tell you what we know. But we’re not uttering the first word until everyone calms down a little, starting with the guys holdin’ all of us at attention. Call ’em off, Buddy!” he demanded firmly.

  Buddy watched Scott through narrowed eyes for another few seconds, then, taking the cigar from his mouth, he waved his men away from us. “Barry, go tell Sally to bring us a pot a coffee and a decanter of Old Senator.” Then, looking from Scott to me, he said, “Won’t you join our little garden party?” Turning, he walked back to the table where my father and grandfather remained standing as they waited for us to join them. Some of the tension on their faces had eased, but not the anger.

  I took an empty chair next to my father at the cast iron and glass table, and as we all sat down, Daddy leaned in slightly toward me and said softly, “If Buddy doesn’t have us killed, I’m gonna kill you when we get home.” I said nothing, but kept my face turned toward Buddy as he took a seat across from us. If we all made it out alive, I’d worry about living through my father’s wrath then.

  As Scott took the seat on the other side of me, and Granddaddy took a seat on the other side of Daddy, I looked around at the opulence that ill-gotten money could buy. The patio was made from the same coral rock as the outside wall. Looking off to my right, toward the backyard, I could see an enormous pool lit with the same oil torches that illuminated the patio. Surrounding the pool were numerous groupings of furniture, all casually enclosed by potted palm trees and m
ore bougainvilleas, ranging in color from hot pink to pale peach. Beyond the pool was a cabana. Amazingly, it was an exact small-scale model of the main house; complete with tall arched windows covered in ornate scrolled ironwork that played the dual role of decoration and security.

  A breeze stirred the tall coconut palms that were scattered naturally throughout the grounds, as well several large Poinciana trees, loosening the beautiful flowers from their wide canopy of branches, and sending them down in a shower of magnificent bright red-orange. Off in the distance, I could hear a bell ringing on one of the buoys as it swayed in rhythm to the wind and the waves. If I hadn’t been sitting there to discuss such ugly business with a mobster while his men kept guard with guns at the ready, it would have been a most pleasant place. As it was, it was a paradoxical paradise.

  Suddenly, an older woman wearing a maid’s uniform appeared by Buddy’s side. She carefully set a tray down by him with coffee service for five, as well as a decanter of what I assumed was the Old Senator bourbon whiskey.

  “Thanks, Sally,” Buddy said. “Pour coffee all around.” As she did, he extinguished his cigar in an enormous turquoise shell-shaped ceramic ashtray and immediately fished out a fresh one from his jacket’s inner pocket along with a lighter. Biting the end off, he spat it in the grass, then held the lighter’s flame to his cigar. As he pulled deeply on it, he studied Scott and me through the thick veil of rising smoke.

  “So,” he began, setting the lighter on the table and pouring a healthy shot of whiskey into his black coffee, followed by an enormous teaspoon of sugar. “Your family here”—he nodded toward my father and grandfather—“come into my home, upsetting my quiet evening by accusing me of all sorts of things that I didn’t have nothin’ ta do with. Being perfectly honest with you, I’ve imposed some pretty serious consequences for less serious accusations. But, in light of the fact that you people have always given me a fair shake, I’ve tried not to overreact. Now, with that being said, you better lay every card you have on the table, little lady, ’cuz my patience is being sorely tested.”

  “What is it you and Scott know, Lily?” my father asked with a furrowed brow.

  I looked over at Scott. Softly, he asked me if I wanted him to explain, but I shook my head, knowing that I needed to be the one to do it since Olivia had spoken directly to me. Inhaling deeply, I sat forward in my chair, rested my forearms on the table and launched into the entire truth of what had gone on; including what Olivia had heard and seen, and what Scott had deduced from Olivia’s description of the men. “So,” I took another sip of my coffee before continuing. I couldn’t keep my mouth lubricated. “We think those were Chick’s men, and we believe their whole intention was to pit you all against each other,” I explained, looking at my father and grandfather, then back at Buddy. “We’re guessing Chick thought that in the end you would bring each other down.” There was silence at the table as everyone let our theory sink in, while I sat back in my seat and exhaled, feeling absolutely drained.

  “I think those two guys were Jerry Abbott and Marcel Champion,” Scott said, interrupting everyone’s thoughts. “They’ve been Chick’s strong-arms for just a short time. Even though I’d know who they were if I saw them, and maybe the rest of you would, as well, I think Chick figured it was a pretty safe bet that Olivia wouldn’t.”

  “Any idea where the Doxley boys are now?” Daddy asked, his face red with anger.

  “No.” Scott shook his head. “But I think they probably high-tailed it out of here when they figured out that they’d been ripped off. They may have gone out to the cottage on the Key and seen that everything was gone.”

  “And just left Olivia lying there?” my father cried, outraged.

  “Maybe,” Scott said, shrugging. “She didn’t say that she saw them, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t show up at some point. Remember; Olivia had been really worked over. I think they very well may have shown up and thought she was dead, or, if they knew she wasn’t, they were too scared to do anything to help her. I imagine they thought that Chick would come after them, and maybe even you, too, Buddy. After all, they probably figured that if your guys would do that to Olivia, God only knows what they’d do to them. I also think they imagined that if Olivia was dead, they could be held partly responsible. I don’t know.” Scott shook his head. “Maybe the Doxleys simply got the word about what had gone down and took off faster ’n a jack rabbit on hot asphalt. My guess is that they’re back in Virginia, hiding out with family, or they may have headed north or even gone out west. I’d be willing to bet everything I own that we’ll never see hide nor hair of them again, though.”

  “I swear on a stack of Bibles, if I ever do, I’m gonna kill the sons of bitches,” my father said tightly.

  “Anything else, Lily?” Granddaddy asked.

  “Just one other thing,” I said. My palms had started to sweat, and I wiped them on my pants under the table. “The boat that Chick’s guys took to the cottage was called the Venilia, At least that’s what we think the name of it was.

  “Daddy,” I continued, turning to him. “Scott and I stopped by the marina and checked the files to see if it had been built at your marina, and it had, back at the end of ’26.”

  “I don’t remember a boat by that name, but that doesn’t mean anything. Several of my men build ’em and your mother takes care of the paperwork; which includes putting the name of the boat in the file with the buyer’s name. Without at least seeing it, I couldn’t tell you who it belongs to.”

  “I can,” I said. As I did, Scott reached for my hand under the table and squeezed it reassuringly. He knew I was about to open up Pandora’s Box.

  “The boat belongs to Laura Aldrich.”

  “Laura Aldrich?” Granddaddy asked in disbelief. “How the hell does she fit in with all of this?”

  “We’re not sure. But, Daddy, Granddaddy,” I said, releasing Scott’s hand and turning toward them in my chair. It was time to be honest with them about everything. It was the only way to fit all of the pieces together. “After the hurricane, when I helped out at the hospital, Neil Aldrich—”

  “Gentlemen—and lady,” Buddy interrupted as he looked around the table at each of us with a rather bemused expression on his face. He pulled his cigar from his mouth and spat more bits of tobacco before continuing. “I can tell you exactly how Laura fits into this.”

  “Well, please, by all means, enlighten us!” Granddaddy caustically snapped.

  “Laura Aldrich used to be Laura Belvedere,” Buddy chuckled. “She’s Chick’s baby sister.”

  Chapter 40

  Having the Eyes to See

  Granddaddy and I were both lost in our own thoughts as he drove me home in my father’s truck. When we left Buddy’s, Daddy drove back with Scott to the marina to get my car. Considering all that had gone on, no one wanted me driving by myself that night. For one thing, they knew I was completely exhausted; for another, everyone realized that I was reeling from all that had transpired, though no one, save Scott, knew how devastated I was to learn that Laura was Chick’s sister.

  Staring out my passenger window at some of the undeveloped land on Brickell Avenue, I only saw it in a black-green blur as I played over in my mind the last few minutes at Buddy’s.

  His revelation had caused a collective gasp around the table, followed by absolute silence. I looked over at Scott, who was already staring at me. “Oh my God,” he whispered, the look of shock on his face undoubtedly mirroring my own.

  Buddy had gone on to explain that Chick and Laura used to come down on vacation when they were kids, so it was no surprise to see Chick buy a hotel on the Beach. He said that from the little he knew of their relationship, it seemed as though the two were thicker than thieves, and the fact that Neil had been called down to help at the hospital after the storm probably suited Laura just fine. “Never did trust her,” Buddy had said. “In a way, she scared me far worse than
that little gnat of a man ever did,” he’d admitted. Daddy had asked him why that was, and Buddy had explained that there always seemed to be something off about her. “You could see it in her eyes sometimes,” he’d said.

  Then the Detroit mobster had threatened to make sure Chick and Laura never bothered any of us again. But my grandfather had said in a tone befitting that of a parent trying to calm a petulant child that he might have another means to that end. “Buddy,” Granddaddy had said, “violent retaliation is a pathetic and endless game of tit for tat. What would be most beneficial for all of us is to have Chick removed from our lives without any one of us getting our hands dirty, or breaking any laws, and I think I might have a way of doing that. If he’s removed, then Laura won’t have much power to wield anymore. Now, I know I can’t tell any of you what to do, but I’d be mighty obliged if you’d give me a few days to handle things without any interference from y’all, or any more blood being spilled. Would you do that for me?”

  We all agreed, though Buddy and Daddy had done so reluctantly. Of course, we asked Granddaddy what he planned on doing, but he said he needed to keep that to himself in order to protect someone who’d be the key to putting his plan into action, if that person would agree to help. Buddy told us that if Granddaddy’s way didn’t work out, then he’d be stepping up to the plate. No one tried to dissuade him, and no one asked him just how he planned to get rid of the thorn in all of our sides. I guess we figured it was better not to know.

  I was still trying to digest the fact that Laura was Chick’s sister, and as I sat there thinking about it, I remembered the night that Olivia and I went out in her new car and drove past the building housing the Boulevard Bakery and the Lemon Tree. We saw several people silhouetted against the street light in the alley behind the building, and one of them was Chick. We’d also seen a dark-haired woman among the group, though we hadn’t been able to see her face. Now, I wondered if that could have been Laura. There was no telling how deeply involved she was in Chick’s life, and all of his goings on, but from the little I’d just found out, I had a feeling she might be a silent partner in everything.