“Sounds good. I’ll put my shorts on. ‘Bye.”
* * *
The A’s were waiting when the B’s drove up. Brad apologized, “Sorry, it took a little longer to finish fixing that coffee pot than I thought it would. I wanted to get it repaired and back to the kitchen because the Dance Club is having their Winter Wonderland Dance tonight, and they might need it for refreshments.”
“No problem,” Art assured him. “We just came outside to wait for you because Annie’s getting cabin fever. She’s worrying herself sick over what she keeps calling ‘Our Mystery’.” Annie wrinkled her nose and made a little mew face at her husband, but her violet eyes were smiling.
“Which course do you want to play?” Barb asked.
Without hesitating, Annie answered, “The Blue.”
The others looked at her with surprise. “You want to go back out there after the other night?” Barb said in amazement. “I’d have thought you’d have had your fill of that course for awhile.”
Annie smiled weakly, “Please? I want a fresh memory of number five that is normal and not what we saw last night.”
“I’m game if the rest of you are,” Art said. “Are we walking or riding?”
“Riding, please,” Annie said. “I need to do something physical, but not too physical. All this mystery is wearing me out.”
“I know what you mean,” Barb agreed.
The foursome always enjoyed playing together and being out in the fresh air was refreshing. The 77 degree temperature was a welcome change from the recent cold spell they had endured. The first hole was a short one, and the two men, using irons, easily drove to the green. Barb selected a five wood and her ball reached the green too, but Annie sliced to the right and her ball plopped in the water. “Oh, oh, I’m having DeeDee’s bad luck on this hole. Hope I’m not jinxed for the rest of the round.”
The two 18-hole courses were full of golfers. They were out in force enjoying the welcome warm weather. The yellow sheriff’s tape had been removed at the Blue Number Five, and the tee-off markers for men and women were pushed down into the sandy soil in their normal places. As usual, there was a tie-up at the fifth hole. There were two foursomes ahead of them waiting to tee-off; so after pulling up in the queue to wait their turn, Annie got out. Art asked, “Where are you going?”
“Just over there to see the big birds.”
Barb joined her at the fence. The two women saw the alligator’s back and the top of its head as it swam silently and effortlessly under the wire fence that divided the crescent-shaped pond. The ’gator surfaced, lumbered up the bank, and settled down in the field, warming himself in the sun. “He certainly is getting to be one big alligator,” Annie said.
“Usually an alligator trapper is called to catch them and take them away when they get to be six feet,” Barb commented. “I don’t think city folks like us feel very comfortable having one of these pre-historic creatures around when they get so big. He is one scary animal. I’ll have to ask Brad to check with the Board on what to do about it.” She looked back over her shoulder to check the queue; the men were still sitting in their golf carts waiting their turn. When she turned back towards the field again, something caught her eye. “Annie, look!” Barb pointed at what she guessed was an emu because it was smaller than some of the other big birds.
“Where?”
“Over there, more to your right.”
“What?”
“Look. That smaller bird has something in its beak.”
Just then the sun glinted off a piece of metal that was dangling from the emu’s mouth. Then Annie saw it. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” was all she could manage to say. She wanted Art to come to the fence to see it too, but she didn’t dare shout to him because a man was teeing off just then. Annie knew she couldn’t run anymore; sometime during these last years she realized that she couldn’t run, jump, hop, or skip; her old body wouldn’t do these things anymore. So, as best as she could, she hurried over to Art and Brad and said, “Wave the others to play through. You’ve got to come see what Barb showed me.”
The men gave each other one of those ‘What have our wives gotten us into now?’ looks, then followed her to the fence. Barb whispered so the other golfers couldn’t hear her, “See! Can you see it? Over there.” She kept her hand close to her body and pointed with one finger. “That emu has something in its beak. I think it’s a piece of gold jewelry. What are we going to do? No, Brad, I’m not going in there, but I’d really like to see what she has in her mouth.”
Immediately, Brad offered to drive back to the Pro Shop to call the Sergeant. He warned before he left them, “Don’t you dare go in there; you guys stay here and watch that emu from this side of the fence. I’ll go call, what’s-her-name?”
“Menendez, Sgt. Menendez, and the deputy is Joe Juarez.” Annie supplied Brad with the phone number; she’d called it enough times by now to remember it. “See if you can get them to get the farmer to come out here too.”
Barb suggested he also call the Davises and Vigeauxs. “They’ll want to know too. They’ll want to be in the loop.”
“Will do,” Brad promised as he headed back to his golf cart and on to the Pro Shop. Art moved his cart out of the queue and away from the tee. He suspected that they wouldn’t be playing any more golf today.
* * *
Brad returned shortly and told the others that dispatch had contacted the Sergeant and she was on her way. As they waited, two other golfers came over to the fence to view the birds until it was their turn to tee off the fifth hole. Anxiously, Annie kept her eyes glued to the bird with the object in its beak. It was only a short time, but it seemed like hours to Annie before Sgt. Menendez arrived, driven out by a Ranger in a course cart after evidently leaving her car in the parking lot.
“Thanks for coming,” Barb said in greeting when the law officer exited the cart and came toward them. “We thought you ought to see this.”
“Thank you for alerting me,” Menendez replied.
Annie swallowed the temptation to say something about how the deputies certainly didn’t thank her for the first phone call she’d made to them just last Tuesday night. No, she decided, it was far better to have the Sergeant’s trust now; no need to remind her of their first pitiful encounter. Anyway, the other night Maria almost apologized. Annie figured that Menendez would never actually voice the words, ‘I’m sorry’, but her friendly words and smiles spoke volumes.
None of them knew the two other people standing by the fence; they were golfers just passing the time while waiting to tee off. As Annie listened to Barb talking to Menendez and pointing out the emu with the jewelry, she looked at the golfers and groaned; there were two more standing at the fence now. She nudged Art, “Do you see who’s here?”
Art looked at her. She tilted her head to the left. He looked along the fence, and recognized one of those men as their neighbor’s husband, the one who had asked them over to eat. Art whispered with a little laugh, “Looks like we’ll be getting another dinner invitation!”
The emu holding a bright shiny object in its beak was the star attraction. Golfers came, watched awhile, then left to tee-off; others took their place at the fence. But the Andersens and Bradkowskis as well as Menendez stayed. There was no way they would let that emu out of their sight if they could help it.
When they were alone for a few minutes with no other golfers around, Barb whispered, “I just know that’s Twila’s. I’m sure it’s a piece of her jewelry.”
Annie wanted to believe her. She knew, however, that it could very well be just a shiny bit of garbage the bird had picked up, perhaps something a golfer had thrown over the fence or a gum wrapper that the wind had blown in, although it didn’t flutter like a wrapper. But, if it were Twila’s, then they would have a valuable piece of evidence, another piece to fit in their puzzle.
Art lamented, “I wish we could get in there. We’ve got to see what that bird’s got in its mouth. We’ve got to.”
Annie laugh
ed to herself, realizing how caught up in ‘Our Mystery’ he now was. Such a change from last Tuesday evening when she tried hard to convince him and the others that she’d touched a dead woman’s arm in a drawer.
Sgt. Menendez moved with them along the length of the fence, following the movements of the emu. They didn’t know if the bird was a he or a she, but because it was small and carrying a piece of jewelry, they collectively decided it must be a ‘she’.
Barb announced, “She needs a name, and I think we should call her ‘Carol’.”
Her husband asked. “Why did you pick that name?”
“I thought Carol fit her because she likes jewelry, and because Carol Channing likes to sing ‘Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend’.”
Menendez joined in the fun and said, “Why not Marilyn then?”
“She doesn’t look like a Marilyn. She looks like a Carol,” Barb said.
Menendez shrugged, “Sounds like a perfect fit to me.”
“Carol, it is,” Barb said decisively.
When Carol turned away from them and they couldn’t see her bill, they were beside themselves. They wanted to keep close track of Carol and her piece of jewelry.
“It’s got to be Twila’s bracelet!” Barb blurted out. Then realizing what she had said out loud, she quickly looked around to see if there were any golfers to overhear her. Relieved to find that they were alone just then, she added softly, “I’m just sure it is. Isn’t there something dangling from it? It could be the heart charm. Oh, maybe I’m just imaging it.”
Annie couldn’t see a charm, but she was surprised at Barb’s intensity. Barb was the organized, efficient one of her friends, but now she was the one projecting her hopes into supposed reality.
They waited. Annie felt her stomach rumble. She and Maria Menendez were standing together at the fence when Annie quietly asked her, “Have you heard anything about Karl Kreeger’s golf cart? Have they found anything?” Since the Sergeant had been closed-mouthed before, she didn’t really expect an answer.
However, this time the officer confided, “Not yet. But it can take a week or more before the lab gets back to us, unless they put a rush on it.”
“If they can’t find anything incriminating, does he get his cart back?”
“Yes, but he has to go get it at his own expense,” Menendez explained.
“That’s a bummer, especially if you’re innocent,” Annie said. “However, we’re sure he’s not innocent, but we haven’t yet been able to prove that he’s had Twila’s body on his cart and probably more than once. I do hope we … you … can prove it.”
“These things can take time,” the sergeant replied. “We solve most cases, eventually.”
An hour passed. Art’s stomach growled. Annie heard it and looked at him, concerned about the level of his blood sugar. “I’m okay,” he assured her, pulling out a little wrapped package of cheese cracker sandwiches. “Want some?” She did, but she shook her head. Art was on the edge of being diabetic; she knew he needed some food more than she did.
The Vigeauxs drove up. “Listened to your message when we got home. Thanks, Brad, for calling us,” Von said as he joined them at the fence.
“Do you know where the Davises are today? I left them a message too.”
“I think they were going to visit somebody in Lakeland,” Verna offered, “taking his aunt out for brunch.”
“Oh, I think you’re right,” Barb confirmed. “Well, we are glad you two are here. We need your sharp eyes, Verna. Look over there.” Barb pointed at the emu. “See! There’s something in that emu’s mouth. I named her Carol. She seems so happy with whatever’s in her beak, carries it around everywhere she goes like a little kid. Hasn’t put it down for over an hour that we’ve been watching. It’s like she’s showing it off to her girl friends!”
Verna squinted, “She too far away for me to see what it is. But you’re right; it does look like jewelry. This could be important.”
Menendez agreed about its importance. She had decided that she needed to stay here and keep this emu under observation more than she needed to sit off the by-pass watching for speeders. She’d had worse duties, she thought. The weather was pleasant with the temperature in the high 70s and there was little humidity; it was a delightful late January day. There was cloud cover; so the chance of getting sun-burned was reduced, but the possibility was still there. Annie offered her a tube of sun-screen; Maria Menendez smiled her thanks and squeezed out some crème to rub on her pretty face.
* * *
Joe Juarez arrived just before the farmer. Gerald Gilbert drove into the field in his dented blue pick-up truck. Gilly was still wearing his Buccaneer ball cap when he slid out of the cab and met them on the other side of the fence. Sgt. Menendez pointed out the emu with the shiny bauble in its beak, saying, “We’d like to have a look at that thing in its mouth. Can you get it for us? While we were waiting for you, Mrs. Bradkowski named her, calls her Carol after some singer.”
The seniors all looked at each other in distress when Menendez called Carol Channing ‘some singer.’ It made them feel very old. They realized that the Sergeant was simply too young to remember this famous entertainer who was no longer in the public eye.
Gilly didn’t seem to know who Carol Channing was either. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and answered Menendez, “Shouldn’t be no problem, m’am. Brought their feed. That should do it.”
Barb interrupted, “I heard that raising these big birds was a school project of the FAA. Why aren’t the student farmers feeding them?’
“Well, m’am, it started out as a school club project, but that ended a couple of months ago. Can’t make no money selling the meat; costs too much, more than beef. Not many people willing to buy.”
Barb said, “It’s supposed to be low in cholesterol.”
“Yes, m’am; an’ it’s tasty, too, but it jest costs too much ta make any real money. Tha only ones who got rich off ostriches were them who sold tha fertile eggs, tha ones who got in tha pyramid game early.”
“What are you going to do with them?” Annie asked.
“So far I’m jest keepin’ ‘em as pets,” Gilly answered, “but with tha cost of feed, an’ all, I’ll probably take ‘em to tha county fair an’ sell ‘em at auction. Kinda hate to get rid of ‘em; I’m kinda attached to tha ugly critters, ‘cept that big ole male. After what he done tha other night, I don’t mind tellin’ ya; he’ll be tha first one I sell off. First one.”
Joe Juarez replied, “Can’t say as I blame you for that. After I saw how fast he was and how powerful, I can tell you that I’m not ashamed to say that bird worries me. And I’m not afraid of most things or else I would never have become a deputy. When that bird kicked Jiggs, he never even reared back with his leg; he just swung it forward and ripped that guy’s chest wide open.”
“I’ve heard that the power in an ostrich’s kick is 250 pounds. 250 pounds! Don’t believe I wantta find out fer myself!” Gilly chuckled. Then he explained, “I was ‘bout ta leave ta come over here ta feed ‘em when your Dispatcher called me. I’m late getting ‘round ta feedin’ ‘em this mornin’. First thing I had ta do taday was ta make a service call on a golf cart. Got me a little golf cart service business ta keep me busy along with farmin’. He pulled out some slightly bruised business cards from the back pocket of his jeans. As he passed them out, he said. “Some kids swiped a golf cart from a carport last night. Took it out fer a joy ride, then tipped it on its side. Most of tha acid ran outta tha battery.”
Art asked, “Was that in BradLee?”
“Naw. Another park. But, that’s why I’m late gettin’ here ta feed ‘em. Wish I could feed ‘em in the evening when it’s cooler—‘specially durin’ tha awful heat of summer—but that won’t work. The pellets get moist if they’re left overnight. Them birds won’t so much as eat a bite of it if it’s moist. Then it’s jest a waste of food.”
They stood at the fence and watched Gilly go to the bed of his truck and open a 50 pound b
ag of feed. Using an old two-pound coffee can as a scoop, he emptied the feed, which he’d told them was heavy on protein, 20%, plus soy, alfalfa, corn and a few other ingredients into one of the big, black, heavy rubber bowls that was about eighteen inches in diameter and some five inches deep. Each bird had a dish, and Gilly filled them all. The big birds, including Carol, crowded around the bowls and began to eat. Gilly bent over, using his bandana-print blue handkerchief he picked something up from the ground. He walked over to the fence and asked Menendez, “This what yer lookin’ fer?”
As she reached for it, Menendez signaled Juarez to move the gawking golfers away from the fence and out of hearing. She unwrapped it and held the contents in her open hand for the others to see. “Recognize it?”
There was no heart charm dangling from it, but it was a gold bracelet. Verna examined it carefully and exclaimed, “This is beautiful and very unusual. It’s a bracelet, but it’s also a watch. Look, there’s a tiny hinge here. May I?” she looked up at Menendez, who nodded agreement. Using just her fingernail, Verna gently lifted the cover that protected the face of the watch hidden under it. Menendez noted that the hands were stopped at 9:47.
“That’s it! That’s the 50th anniversary watch that the Tuckman’s told us about,” Annie almost yelled in her excitement. “Sergeant, Twila’s brother, Tony, told us that Twila inherited a gold bracelet watch from her mother when she died. It was their mother’s 50th anniversary gift from their father. Tony was hoping he could get it back; he wanted to give it to Tilley and then to their daughter. It is very special.”
“If we weren’t lucky enough to find that charm bracelet with the heart on it, at least, we are verah lucky to find this. Surely we can trace this right straight to Twila,” Verna predicted.
The Traveling Corpse Page 18
