Murder Makes Waves

by Anne George

  We ate, played Scrabble, watched the ten o’clock news. There was no Tarzan yell from the Berliners’ balcony to announce turtles coming in, no phone calls. By eleven we were in bed.

  “I really do like your hair,” Fred said, snuggling against me. “But I liked it red, too. After the initial shock.”

  “You wouldn’t even look at me!”

  “When?”

  I put my hands flat against his chest. “When you were walking down the beach. I waved at you and you turned your back.”

  “There was a man too far out on a float. That’s what I was looking at. I was wondering if the lifeguard saw him.”

  Damn! I could have stayed redheaded.

  “Honey?” Fred whispered. “You got a shower cap or something? That stuff on your hair’s potent.”

  I shoved him. “Then just get on your side.”

  Fred went to sleep, but I didn’t. I finally got up, slipped on some shorts and went to the balcony. Several people were sitting on the stile, including Fairchild. I could hear the low murmur of their voices; in the shallow water beyond them, flounder fishermen walked with lanterns. It was so peaceful, so serene. The last place in the world for violence, I told Sister when she joined me.

  “Tell that to the flounders,” she said.

  “True. How come you’re home early?”

  “Berry wasn’t feeling well. Stomach bug. How come you’re still up?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t get Millicent and Emily off my mind. It has occurred to you, hasn’t it, that the killer is probably right in this building, someone we know fairly well?”

  “You off on your baldheaded theory again?”

  “No, I’m trying to be logical. I don’t want anybody else to get hurt.”

  “That’s the police’s job.”

  “I haven’t seen Cagney and Lacey wandering around on the beach.”

  Mary Alice shook her head. “Maybe they’re doing a lot that we don’t know about.”

  I thought about this for a moment. “Nah. Major Bissell’s been at the writers’ conference and running after Haley all week.”

  “True.” Mary Alice leaned forward and looked at the group on the stile. “I hate that Fairchild’s still way up on their list. Bless his heart. We should have gotten him cleared by now.”

  We sat for a moment in silence before I asked Sister if she thought the police had checked Eddie Stamps’s boat.

  “Well, surely they did, wouldn’t you think? And Jason Marley’s, too. They’re not Cagney and Lacey, but they’re perfectly adequate. They found out where the threatening phone call came from right off the bat, didn’t they?”

  “You think Laura really got one?”

  “She had no reason to lie about it.”

  “She would have if she made the call.”

  “But it was a man’s voice. Besides, why would Laura call me?”

  “To get you to leave.”

  “Why would she want me to leave?”

  “She knows you’re in danger.”

  “Good Lord, Mouse. That hair dye’s seeped into your brain. Incidentally, your hair looks great,” Sister said.

  “Thanks.” We were both quiet for a moment, thinking.

  “I found out Jack Berliner wasn’t the boyfriend,” Sister added.

  “How did you do that?”

  “A trip to the third floor to see the Packard sisters while you were at the beauty parlor.”

  “Good thinking.” The Packard sisters, rumored because of their ability to collect information as being retired from the CIA, are also known as the Gulf Towers equivalent of the Internet. “What did they say?”

  “All the permanent residents had to vote to let the Berliners in because of Sophie. They wanted to move here because Jack’s brother and his family are here. They have a townhouse on the bay. Anyway, the ladies said Jack and Tammy charmed everyone at the New Year’s Eve party. Enough to bend the rules for them.”

  “He and Millicent still looked pretty chummy.”

  “Nope. He’s madly in love with his wife. The Packard sisters say so.”

  “That’s one baldheaded fellow we can scratch off then.”

  “Maybe. And Berry says Jason Marley’s one of the most respected developers in Florida and that he’s totally shaken about the deaths.”

  “Which doesn’t mean he’s not the murderer. Frances says he’s not because he lives in a pink house. That’s crazy. And we’re convinced Fairchild couldn’t be the murderer because he’s so nice. Get real, Sister. Remember what Daddy said at his and Mama’s fiftieth anniversary when somebody asked him for the secret of their long marriage?”

  Mary Alice giggled. “He said the secret was to not keep a gun in the house. But he was teasing.”

  “Sure he was. He was also stating a universal truth. People usually kill in moments of passion.”

  “Not Fairchild. He’s too nice.”

  The only thing I had to hit her with was a piece of orange peeling.

  A match flared against the dark seawall, went out. Another was lit and flickered against a cigarette. The third one was the charm and also told me who was sitting there.

  “Come with me a minute,” I told Sister. “I think there’s a certain little girl down there who can tell us some things.”

  The seawall is five feet tall, but on the Gulf side sand has pushed up against it forming a dune and making it easy to climb. We went over the stile, spoke to everyone, and headed out as if we were taking a walk. Then we cut back, climbed the dune as quietly as we could and leaned over the smoker.

  “Hi, Sophie,” I said.

  “Shit!” The rattled child choked. “What are you doing here?” she asked when she finished coughing.

  “Just want to ask you something.”

  “What about?”

  “Millicent’s turtle earring.”

  “Millicent gave it to me. I’ve already told the policeman.”

  “When she went to buy the tomato juice at seven o’clock in the morning?”

  “I don’t know what time it was.”

  “She stopped by your apartment and gave you one earring. Lord, Sophie, you ought to be able to make up a better story than that.”

  Sister chimed in. “Or you could tell the truth. Like maybe you found it somewhere.”

  “I didn’t find it,” Sophie said. “It was given to me. I swear.”

  I suddenly remembered the way Sophie had walked down the Stampses’ pier and a light went on. “Eddie Stamps gave it to you, didn’t he?”

  “No, Mr. Stamps didn’t give me the earring.” But there was enough hesitation to tell me I had hit upon the truth.

  “And when your daddy gave it back to Fairchild, you wanted to see if you could find the other one.”

  There was silence from the figure below us.

  “Where did Mr. Stamps find the earring, Sophie?” I asked gently.

  The child-woman stubbed her cigarette out and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe on his boat. I thought the other one might be there, but I looked all over this afternoon and it wasn’t.” She stood up and faced us. “Please don’t get Mr. Stamps in trouble. He’s such a nice old man.”

  “Yes, he is, Sophie,” I agreed. “But somebody isn’t. You have to tell the police everything you know so nothing else happens.” I sounded patronizing even to myself. So Sophie’s reaction didn’t surprise me.

  “All he did was give me the earring because he knew that Millicent and I did turtle watches together.”

  “Then tell your parents. They’ll take care of it.”

  “Shit! Leave me alone!” The child turned and fled toward the building.

  “Think she’ll do it?” Sister asked.

  “Of course not.”

  The two of us slid down the dune.

  “Well, damn, Mouse, I’m impressed. How did you know it was Eddie?”

  “Part something I saw: part guess. Wait a minute.” I stopped and pulled off my sandals. The sand was cool and damp. “I don’t think he’s
the murderer, though. Don’t ask me why. Just a feeling.”

  “I beg your pardon, little sister, but isn’t that what you were just fussing at me about?”

  True. I tried to get my tail out of the crack. “You just can’t let your feelings blind you.”

  Sister sniffed. “You and your feelings. I remember the day Jimmy Carter got elected President I called you and said ‘Let’s go to Plains so we can be there for the big celebration.’ And you said no, you had a feeling Gerald Ford was going to get it. And I let you talk me out of going to what must have been an incredible party.”

  “I wonder what an incredible party is like in Plains, Georgia?”

  “Fun. All sorts of things happening. I’ll bet that night they blew car horns, shot off guns, beat on frying pans.”

  “And to think we missed it.”

  “I know you’re being sarcastic,” Mary Alice said.

  When we came to the stile, Fairchild was sitting there alone. “Sit with me a few minutes,” he invited us. Mary Alice took him up on it, but I rinsed the sand from my feet, went upstairs, slipped my nightgown back on and crawled into bed. I didn’t think I would sleep, but I did. I crashed. About five o’clock, though, I awoke and began to think about the murders, to go over all that had happened. And suddenly, I was sure I knew who the muderer was. Only one piece of the puzzle remained. At six o’clock, I was knocking on Fairchild’s door.

  Dr. Nachman, Haley informed us, was taking us all to the Sandestin Hilton for brunch before they headed back to Birmingham.

  “How did last night go?” I poured her a cup of coffee. I had already had a couple of cups with Fairchild and Major Bissell, but I took another.

  “Fine.”

  I pride myself on being able to read my daughter’s moods, but I had no idea what was going on. She seemed happy, but not excited. Or maybe my mind was too much on other matters.

  “What your mama wants to know is if Nephew proposed,” Mary Alice stated bluntly.

  “Not exactly.” Haley smiled and turned toward her room. “I’ve got to get my stuff together.”

  “Don’t forget the cappucino machine,” Sister called. And as soon as the door was closed, “How can you not exactly propose?”

  “I have no idea, but I’m not going to worry about it.” Liar, liar!

  The front door opened and Fred came in, his flip-flops in his hand. “Already hot out there. Laura Stamps caught me as I came into the lobby. Had me help her put some stuff in her car.”

  “She hasn’t left yet, has she?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. She said if we wanted to look at her apartment, she’s leaving the key with Fairchild.” He took the coffee I held out to him. “Why would we want to look at her apartment?”

  “We might buy it.”

  He grinned at me. “Okay, Miss Money-bags.”

  “Well, you are going through with the Metal Fab merger, aren’t you?”

  “I am, but I think we better hold up on Florida condos. Are there any sweetrolls?”

  I put one in the microwave for him. When it dinged, I jumped.

  “You okay, honey?” he asked.

  “Fine.” But I wasn’t. I wanted the phone to ring; I wanted Major Bissell to tell me if I was right or wrong. I was probably wrong. I hoped I was wrong.

  “You were out early this morning.”

  “Walking on the beach.” Okay, Major, so I’m keeping quiet like you asked.

  “Don’t eat much, Fred,” Mary Alice said. “Nephew’s taking us to brunch.”

  He turned toward me. “Our future son-in-law?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Too old.”

  “But an ENT.”

  “True.” Fred balanced his sweetroll across his coffee cup, gave me a pat on the behind, and went into the living room to turn on “Sunday Morning.”

  Mary Alice poured a generous amount of milk into her coffee. “I wonder if the police know that Laura’s leaving.”

  “Don’t know,” I said truthfully.

  “Y’all look serious.” Frances came into the kitchen, her hair wet from a shower.

  “We found out last night that Eddie Stamps gave Sophie the turtle earring,” Mary Alice said.

  “How did you find out?”

  “Sophie told us. Patricia Anne got it out of her.”

  I jumped to Eddie’s defense. “Which may simply mean that Eddie found the earring somewhere.”

  “Patricia Anne has a feeling.” Sister moved so Frances could get to the refrigerator. “But the police sure need to know if he found it on his boat. For all we know, Millicent was leaving earrings as clues.”

  Frances backed out of the refrigerator with a carton of orange juice. “I read a story like that one time. The woman left licorice jelly beans. They knew it was her because she was the only one who liked them. Traced them right to the murderer.” Frances poured a glass of juice and closed the carton. “Maybe the jelly beans lead to Laura. Have you thought about that?”

  “I don’t want to think about it,” I said truthfully.

  A knock on the door made us all jump. I opened it to see the subject of our conversation standing there looking worried. For a moment I was spooked.

  “’Morning, Patricia Anne,” she said. “Is Fred here?”

  “Sure. Come in.”

  “I just wanted to know if he knows where Eddie is.”

  “Fred,” I called. “Do you know where Eddie is?”

  “He was talking to Fairchild in the parking lot when I came up,” Fred called back. “Why?”

  Laura stepped into the apartment. “Because the car’s gone.”

  “He probably went to get the car gassed up,” Fred said.

  “I did that yesterday.”

  “Or maybe to check on the new house,” I volunteered.

  “I doubt it, but can I use your phone? I’ll call Jason Marley and ask him to look out his window and see if he sees the car.”

  After a short conversation, Laura hung up, smiling. “He’s there. Jason says he sees him at the boathouse. I know you think I’m crazy to be so worried, but the first sign we had of anything being wrong with Eddie was that he got lost between here and Blue Bay. It took him four hours to get home.”

  “We don’t think that at all,” I said. “Do you want to go over there? I’ll take you.”

  “If you don’t mind. I’m not sure he’s totally clear about all that’s happened and us leaving today.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Sister said.

  “Me, too.” Frances chimed in.

  “I’ll watch ‘Sunday Morning’ while you’re gone,” Fred said. Which is how he missed out on everything that happened.

  I slipped into the bedroom and called Major Bissell. He wasn’t in, so I left word with the man who answered that I was taking Laura Stamps to Blue Bay Ranch to get her husband.

  “Okay,” he said. I could hear the Roadrunner’s cackle in the background.

  “This is important. Call and tell him.”

  “Yes ma’am.” The man chuckled, hopefully at Wiley E. Coyote.

  Going down 98, I hoped Major Bissell was already at Blue Bay Ranch, Sister said she felt like something was going to happen, and Frances admitted she wanted to see the pink house and Jason Marley again. But all of this was discussed later, well after the fact. As we turned into the Blue Bay Ranch gate, none of the three of us had the slightest idea what was going to happen. Except, of course, I knew what possibilities existed.

  We came to the bay and to the lavender house. The Stampses’ car was parked in the driveway.

  “Thank you so much,” Laura said, opening the door.

  “We’ll make sure Eddie’s all right before we leave.” Mary Alice got out of the car. Frances and I followed her.

  “Thanks. He’s probably out at the boat.”

  To this day, I can see little sun-dried Laura walking hurriedly around the house and onto the pier with us following. The sun was shining and there was a sailboat regatta on
the bay.

  “Look at that!” Frances exclaimed. “Isn’t that beautiful?”

  “Eddie!” Laura called, striding down the pier. “You on the boat?”

  Eddie came from the small cabin and waved. “Hey, honey.”

  Laura turned to us. “He’s fine, y’all. Thanks.”

  “Come on, I’ll take all of you for a ride,” Eddie called.

  “Some other day,” Sister called back.

  “Berry’s here.” Eddie motioned backward to the cabin as Berry appeared on deck.

  “Hey, pretty ladies,” he called. “What brings you out so early?”

  “We just brought Laura over,” Mary Alice answered. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Much better. Sorry about last night.”

  “Don’t be. I had a good time.”

  Laura was standing on the pier beside the boat. “Come on, Eddie,” she said, holding out her hand. “We’ve got to go.”

  “I want to go out in the boat,” he said. “Berry wants to take a ride.”

  Laura stepped onto the boat and took her husband’s arm. “Come on, sweetheart.”

  Berry grinned. “You better go, old buddy.”

  Just at that moment, the Florida Marine Patrol van pulled into Jason Marley’s driveway.

  “What in the world is this about?” Mary Alice wondered aloud as Major Bissell and two other officers got out of the van.

  “Turn around,” I whispered to her and Frances. “Go back to the car.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sister asked.

  “’Morning, Lieutenant Bissell,” I called. “We’re all over here. Mr. Stamps and Mr. West are on the boat.” I grabbed Sister’s arm. “Back up, damn it.”

  The three police officers came striding over to the Stampses’ pier.

  “’Morning, ladies,” Lieutenant Bissell said. Then, whispering, smiling as if we were having a pleasant conversation, “What on God’s earth are you doing here?”

  I smiled and whispered back. “We came to get Eddie Stamps. How the hell did I know this would happen? You should have been here an hour ago.”

  “Hey, Lieutenant Major,” Eddie called.

  “Hey, Mr. Stamps!”

  “Who’s the woman?” one of the officers asked.