CRUNCH! I know that sound; it’s the noise of two cars colliding. In my rearview mirror I see the Explorer intermingled with a Cadillac. Keep on driving, Pratt. Susan looks back, her mouth wide open. She makes no comment, just disappears into the passenger seat.
#
Susan’s apartment is only a one bedroom, almost a studio. Her dog is the yellow lab I met at the beach house. “Are you going to be okay if I leave you alone?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine. Lucky will protect me.” She scratches the dog’s head and he nuzzles against her. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Water would be good.”
Susan fills Lucky’s food and water before getting two bottles from the fridge. She sits and stares at a paper on the table in front of her. “Do you think I could really do this?”
“Do what?”
She pushes the paper at me. It’s the art class brochure from the sheriff’s office. Looks like part of an adult education program.
“If you like the idea, you should try it. You could work and attend school at the same time.”
“Maybe. It’s not cheap.”
“You have some money saved.” I remember the wad she flashed at me last night. “Maybe your parents would help.”
“My parents don’t speak to me anymore. They threw me out.”
“Drugs?”
“That and dropping out of school after my freshman year of college.”
“Are they around here?”
“No, they’re in Iowa.”
“Do you have any friends besides the kids at the beach?”
“No.” She’s going to be lonely and probably back on drugs.
“Would you like to stay with me and my mom for a while?” Jeez, Pratt. You’re doing it again. You can’t drag home every straggler in the world. And you should at least ask Mom. Where’s she going to sleep?
“I couldn’t do that.” Her eyes say she wants to. “Do you live close by?”
“No, you have to take a boat to get there.”
“I wouldn’t be able to get to work every day.”
“True, it might be difficult. If you decide you want to call in sick a few days and come over to stay with us, let me know.” I should really talk this over with Mom. “It’s as close as I can get to the bodyguard gig you asked for.”
“I’ll think about it. But I’d have to bring Lucky.”
“No problem.” What do you mean, Pratt? Of course it’s a problem. He’d have to stay in a house with two cats.
#
Jeremy’s car is in his garage safe and sound, without a scratch. We’re on our way to Fisherman’s Island in his boat.
“Tell me about your afternoon with Susan.”
“She had her hair dyed to its natural color. Looks good.”
“Not a bad idea. Did you think of it?”
“Yup. And I saw her apartment. It’s tiny. She lives with this big dog.”
“Dogs are good.”
“I doubt if he’d be much protection. He loves everybody.”
“How’d you like my car?”
“Awesome.”
“You can drive it ‘til you get your insurance check if you want.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I might ding it or something.”
“She’s had dings before.” Why do guys think of their cars as female? That car is so male. Very macho.
“It’s never run into Gorilla Bob.”
“You’re not likely to run into him again.”
“I saw him today. He tangled with a Caddy.”
Jeremy gives me a strange look. “I feel a story coming on.”
“I wasn’t even going to mention it.”
“Tell me, Pratt.”
I do, and I have him laughing by the time we reach our dock, even though it’s his precious car that barely escaped disaster. I guess that’s the key. His car did escape. But I doubt he’ll want me driving it.
#
Big Jim is at the house with Mom and Manuel. He’s in uniform, sitting in the recliner, watching television. Allison and Bert are nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, Jim. Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”
“Very quiet.”
Jeremy sits on the floor to play with Manuel. It’s obvious he likes kids. I seem to be the only one here who doesn’t play with him. Are you uncomfortable with children, Pratt? Is that why you’re not chasing down a husband? I try to picture myself staying home, cooking, cleaning house, taking care of the little ones. That creates a lump of dread in my belly. Shut off that train of thought.
“Mom, do we have room for one more visitor?”
She rolls her eyes.
“She could stay in Allison’s room since Allison is obviously sleeping in Bert’s.”
She shakes her head in disbelief.
“Oh, and she has a dog. A friendly yellow lab.”
Mom flops her head back on the couch and moans. Manuel jumps from the floor, climbs into her lap, and hugs her.
Maybe I’ve pushed bringing home stragglers too far. “Okay. Not a good idea. She hasn’t agreed to come here.”
“Anything new about the missing Cubans?” Jim asks Jeremy.
“No, but we identified two of the four men who were at Fort Myers Beach rousting the kids. And one of them is the drug dealer we met in Miami who we think is threatening the Cubans.”
“Fill me in. Is there a connection?” Big Jim flicks off the TV with the remote.
So, Jeremy and I tell all. We tell about the trip to Miami, Susan and friends getting ripped off at the beach, the missing Cubans, the possible connections to Allison’s brother and his friends. We even tell about someone shooting at us in Miami.
“Now I understand why you sent the deputies here to watch us,” Mom says.
“Yeah, and why I wanted to bring Susan over to keep an eye on her. And her dog.”
Mom rolls her eyes without the sound effect this time.
“By the way, where’s the happy couple?” I ask.
“They went to Fort Myers or Fort Myers Beach. I’m not sure.”
“Hope they don’t run my boat aground in the dark.”
“Maggie’s chaperoning. They’ll be fine.”
Jeremy leaves and Manuel goes to bed, so I crash, leaving Big Jim to snuggle with Mom on the couch. And of course guard the house and all of us within.
Saturday
Chapter 32
Early to bed, early to rise. I’m up before the sun, taking a run on the beach with a sweatshirt over my shorts. It’s nippy again this morning. Mindy the cat runs with me in the brush, popping out to say hello and trying to trip me now and then. The wading birds are strutting in the silvery pre-dawn light, poking at the edge of the tide, running in and out of thin water, grabbing tiny silver fish. The low tide has left numerous live conchs on the beach, burying themselves, making little mounds of wet sand. I bend to pick up a few and throw them into the water as I run. The pipers and plovers run in synchronization and fly as one when I pass.
A fishing boat runs parallel to the island, swinging closer at the south end. I think nothing of it until it beaches itself at the same spot where the Cubans were dropped off last week. I step behind the same palm where I rescued Mindy and watch. Two men climb from the boat and give it a shove into the water. It doesn’t hang around, but heads around the end of the island. The two men on shore show the bulge of weapons tucked into their waistbands. Neither one is Che or Dante.
I dial Big Jim. The phone rings six times and I’m about to give up when I hear a grumbled “hullo” in his high voice.
“Jim, this is Ernie. Where are you?” I talk very low, almost a whisper.
“Sleeping in your recliner,” Jim answers. “Why are you calling?”
The men are headed toward the road and I doubt they can hear anything over the noise they make in the brush. They’re not silent hunters, that’s for sure.
“Two men with guns jumped off a boat at the south end of the island.”
“Get home as s
oon as you can, but don’t let them see you. I’ll call for backup.”
I run back along the beach as fast and quiet as I can. Big Jim lets me into my own house, holding a gun in his hand. “Which way did they go?”
“They headed for the road.”
“Is the boat waiting for them?”
“No, it dropped them and left.”
“So their only way off the island is at the docks. Unless the boat returns.”
“I’ll call Maggie and warn her.”
“Okay. I’ll watch the street, you watch the beach, and if you see anything, let me know. There’s a boat patrolling not too far away, and they’re sending a chopper.”
“What do you think the men are looking for?”
“Drugs or Manuel.”
That thought makes my heart race faster than my running. I walk to the porch, sit, and call Maggie.
Another mumbled response.
“Maggie, it’s Ernie. Where are you?”
“In my bed. Where else would I be?”
“Stay put. Don’t go down to the dock. Two men are on the island who might try to steal a boat.”
“Not from my dock.”
“Maggie, they’re armed and dangerous.” Geez Pratt! You sound like a TV show. “They have guns.”
“How did they get here?”
“A boat dropped them at the beach. A sheriff’s patrol boat’s coming in, and a chopper. Be careful.”
“Is it okay to go back to sleep now?” She disconnects. Doesn’t believe a word I said.
A hand on my shoulder makes me jump out of my skin. It’s Bert.
“Damn, Bert, you scared the...”
He holds a finger to my mouth and whispers. “Do you or Mom own a gun?” He must have talked to Big Jim.
“Only the one on the boat. Why? Are they here?”
“No, but I thought we should be prepared.” He’s still whispering.
“Why are you whispering if no one is here?”
He shrugs. “Maybe they’re in the bushes.”
“No one could hide in our scraggly bushes.” I look around, feeling a little nervous. “Those men don’t know where we live or that we have Manuel. The only people who know are the police.”
“Get a grip, Ernestine. The whole world knows. We were on television, remember? You were the star of the show.”
“Oh yeah, the media knows where we are, but no one said where, on the air.”
“They named names. Anyone could find out if they tried hard enough. You should know that. You’re the detective.”
Some detective. I haven’t even been able to track a lost brother. “I hope they’re searching for the drugs.”
“What drugs?” Bert sits in a chair next to me. “Have I missed something?”
I rattle off the tale again—the short version. “The Cuban refugees came on a sailboat apparently carrying drugs, then transferred to a fishing boat that apparently didn’t get the drugs, because the bad guys are looking for the guys on the sailboat who they think ripped them off.” I take a deep breath. Bert stares at me.
I continue, “The Cubans were sent to Miami and a drug guy told them they kidnapped Manuel, but Manuel actually escaped and we found him. So the bad guys either captured or killed Manuel’s mother and uncle and another guy who were headed this way from Miami to look for him.” Another breath.
Bert’s eyes have lost focus. Is any of this registering in his pea brain?
I plow ahead. “Susan, who was the girlfriend of one of the guys who went missing with Allison’s brother, said some thugs came to the beach house where a bunch of kids live and flattened a guy, then took their money and their drugs. They were looking for the men who went missing with Alex. Susan picked the mug shot of the drug dealer from Miami, the one that Jeremy and I saw threatening the Cubans, as one of the bad guys at the beach house. This morning I see two men wearing guns get off a boat at the beach, who may or may not be connected to all of the above.”
Bert’s eyes spin—his tongue hangs out.
“Got the picture?” I ask.
At this point Allison joins us on the porch. “Big Jim told me to be quiet. What’s going on?”
Bert pulls her onto his lap and says to me, “Can you repeat those exact words for Allison?”
I burst out laughing, try to stop, and choke. Don’t want to make too much noise.
“If you can’t do it, I’ll try.” Bert proceeds to repeat what I said almost word for word. Even the same rat-a-tat-tat rhythm. It’s hilarious. Now we’re all three trying not to laugh. Tears swamp my cheeks.
“Wait a minute.” Allison pushes Bert’s hands away and stands. “It’s starting to sink in. Alex is somehow mixed up with Manuel and the Cubans? And with drugs? I don’t believe it.” Anger flashes in her eyes. She turns and stomps into the house. Bert grabs the door before it slams.
Way to go, Pratt. You told her all those nasty things you were holding back to save her feelings. And you didn’t even say Alex might not have been on the sailboat. On the other hand, why is she not happy we’re getting close to finding Alex?
#
The island is swarming with police. The gunmen must know they’ve been spotted. Somehow, they’ve found a place to hide. There’s no way they can get off the island. The south end is guarded against escape, and the docks hold more boats from the sheriff’s department and Coast Guard than residents. No one can leave without showing identification.
The search continues all day. Maggie didn’t go back to sleep. She’s been guarding the dock with a shotgun and Tiny. No one would dare try to get past her. Half the residents are hiding in fear, and the other half think it’s some kind of game. The authorities keep chasing them off the streets and beaches to their houses. Our little island hasn’t seen this much excitement in years, maybe never. Hope nobody has a heart attack.
Midday, a man is caught running away from the mangroves, a gator snapping at his heels. I wish I could tag along and question him. I wish they would catch the other one.
Late afternoon, the cops gather everyone at the church. Yes, there’s a church, though it isn’t used by any denomination at the moment, only for town meetings and library and such. When the cops have us all in one place, they search the entire island. Either the other guy was eaten by alligators or he somehow got away. No sign of him anywhere.
He could be blowing bubbles through a straw in the mangroves. Maybe he swam to the next island—it’s not far, but the current is strong. The people in charge, I’m not quite sure who that is, think the man has somehow left our little piece of paradise. So we all head for home. An hour later, Maggie calls. She’s spotted a boat leaving the mangroves. Too late to get the troops back to chase it.
#
Big Jim is staying the night again. He’s crashed in Mom’s bed with Manuel asleep in the cot. I don’t think Jim’s had much sleep in the last couple of days. He’s supposed to be working nights, but today he worked all day.
“Where are you sleeping tonight?” I ask Mom.
She raises her left eyebrow, disapproving of my thoughts. “None of your business.”
The four of us—Allison, Bert, Mom, and I—are on the porch picking at leftover pizza and drinking beer. Jeremy came and went with the search group.
“How did Alex get tangled in such a mess?” Allison is no longer angry.
“He may not have. The Cubans only reported three men on the sailboat. There should have been four.” I hope that makes up for dropping a bomb in her lap earlier.
“Maybe he stayed on an island somewhere and had nothing to do with any of it.” Bert, making excuses for Allison's brother.
“Are you leaving tomorrow, brother of mine?”
“Yes, I need to return while I still have my job. I wish I could stay until this is all settled.”
“I wish you could, too,” Allison says.
“Come stay with me in New York,” he offers.
“I couldn’t leave now. I feel like Alex will appear any minute.”
> “Maybe you can come to New York after you find him.”
“Have you signed the divorce papers, Allison?” I throw a zinger into their lovey-dovey conversation.
A mobile rings. Bert and I get up to check. Our identical phones are plugged in next to each other on the counter.
“Which is which?” I ask.
I grab the one that’s ringing and answer. Someone sobs at the other end.
“Susan?”
“Yes,” she blubbers.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“Lucky is dead. Someone killed him.”
Chapter 33
Jeremy arrives at our house about an hour later with Susan and Lucky in tow. I called and explained what was happening and he offered to bring Susan over. But the dog?
“I thought Lucky was dead.” I’m happy to see him alive but not particularly here in our house.
“Apparently he was only knocked out. Someone bonked him in the head.” Jeremy scratches behind Lucky’s ears. The dog pants and drools in the middle of our living room. At least the cats are outside.
“I guess he’s Lucky.” Both man and dog give me sappy grins.
I make intros to Susan all around, and when I get to Allison, she says, “I know your friend, George. He’s a buddy of my brother, Alex.”
They babble on like they’ve known each other forever, as she takes Susan into the bedroom to leave her things.
I ask Jeremy, “Are you sleeping here tonight?” We already have six adults, one kid, two cats, and one dog. What’s one more?
Mom groans. Jeremy puts an arm around her. “If it’s too much, Jessica, I can go home.”
“No,” she says. “It’s almost midnight and we should all be sleeping.”
I won’t sleep with unanswered questions floating around my brain. “I want to hear what happened to Susan. And I want to know about the guy you caught on our island, today.”
“Don’t you want to know about Gorilla Bob?” Jeremy asks.
“I do,” Allison says. She and Susan have returned from the bedroom.
“Is that the crazy man who tried to crash his car into us yesterday?” Susan asks.
Mangrove Madness: An Ernestine Ernie Pratt Mystery (Ernestine Ernie Pratt Adventures Book 1) Page 18
