MIAMI ICED

by Susan Sussman

  “Can you sue a man in prison?” asks Bitsy.

  Lucky takes a long pull of cold beer. “One of the lawyers around here says the Lucas kids can sue their uncle’s estate. It figures those two would do that before going out and actually looking for work. Thing is, I feel bad for their cousin. Caprice is a nice kid. Don’t seem right that the law can make her and her mom pay for the sins of the father.”

  I don’t tell him Caprice knew all about the sins of her father. What I’ll never know is if she was party to them. Someone’s moving around in the Harbormaster’s Office. “How’s the new guy?” I ask.

  “Wound a little tight. Has a bit of a stick up his – ” He catches himself. “Guys like Deke Hawkins don’t come around all that often.” He hoists his beer in salute. We drink a toast.

  I’ve thought about Deke from time to time since the trial. Last week I finally got around to dropping off his bottle of heart pills to the place that disposes of old medicines.

  It’s nearly six when I pull into the mangroves near Sheridan Street, anchoring a while to enjoy the wildlife at day’s end. A few people paddle around in kayaks and canoes. The air has cooled to the mid-eighties. Bitsy sets out a bowl of grapes and Clementines, keeping an ever-watchful eye out for manatees and alligators.

  May’s phone rings the Pachelbel Canon, beautiful music for this tranquil scene. “Hello? Oh, hello Paul,” she says so we know who it is. Our neighbor Paul, a retired CPA, has been helping Bitsy and May dig through our condo complex’s financials. They talk a couple of minutes and she hangs up, excited.

  “You were right,” she tells Bitsy. “Those ugly street lamps everyone hates were purchased from one of Wendel’s relatives. Paul says he’s found a few other things Wendel pushed through various Committees that don’t pass the smell test.”

  “This is almost as exciting as learning to drive,” says Bitsy.

  “And a lot less dangerous,” I say.

  Bitsy breaks out a bottle of bubbly, filling our flutes. “To a job well done,” she says. We clink plastic as the boat’s clock chimes six. “Keeler’s almost on,” I say, tuning the radio to A Prairie Home Companion.

  We catch the end of the news. “And, finally,” says the newscaster, “Joseph Galdino, convicted in the vicious murder of his Palm Beach sister-in-law, was found dead today in his cell of an apparent heart attack.”

  “My God,” says Bitsy.

  “That’s really weird,” says May.

  “That he died?” I ask.

  “That you turned on the news just as they reported it.”

  “She’s been doing things like that since we were kids,” says Bitsy.

  “We’re descended from a long line of…intuitive women,” I say.

  “You are,” says Bitsy. “I take after the side that can cook.”

  36

  Monday morning, I join Lucille and Farley in Courtroom Four. “I hope you don’t mind my calling,” says Lucille, “but this new case is a real doozy.”

  “I’m glad you called.” I open my purse, take out a crochet hook and skein of pale green yarn. With a little luck and a lot of Lucille’s help, I might finish this baby hat before my grandchild goes off to college. “It’s so weird,” I say. “After that whole long trial, Joseph Galdino ups and dies of a heart attack.”

  “That evil man got off easier than he deserved,” says Lucille. “But, at least his passing leaves his family off the hook.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a quirk of the law,” says Farley. “Part of Galdino’s sentence ordered him to repay the victim’s family for the money he made fencing Brandy’s jewelry. Problem is, the mook’s in jail making license plates for fifteen cents a week, so the burden of repaying the money falls on his family. Luckily for the wife and daughter, Galdino croaks while his appeal’s pending. According to the law, as soon as he kicked the bucket, everything went ab initia, back to the beginning. Clean slate. It’s like the trial never happened.”

  I’m confused, probably because I’m trying to learn to crochet and listen to legalese at the same time. “I don’t understand,” I say.

  Farley purses his lips, thinking. “Okay. Say I go to jail for killing you.”

  “What’d I ever do to you?”

  “You asked me to pay back a million bucks I borrowed.”

  “Not an unfair request.”

  “Maybe not to you. So I kill you, go to jail, and the court orders my estate to pay back the million bucks to your estate. Naturally, my attorney files an appeal on the murder charge.”

  “Naturally.”

  “Right then, everything goes on hold. My estate doesn’t owe your estate anything because the next jury might find me innocent—”

  “How could they? You murdered me.”

  “Yeah, feel bad about that. Meanwhile, I don’t have to pay restitution – not to your family, your bookie. Joseph Galdino up and died at that exact moment everything went on hold. In the eyes of the law, the whole thing’s over.”

  “If you ask me,” says Lucille, “dying was the nicest thing that man ever did for his wife and daughter.” She pulls out her knitting, settling in for the trial.

  An idea works itself around, slippery as a Sudoku, darting just out of reach.

  Revenge is a dish best served cold.

  Caprice sat through the hellish trial, bore constant abuse by her cousins, lived in the barren apartment with that hideous safe, all the time knowing her father murdered her aunt and uncle.

  Revenge is a dish….

  She watched and waited until…until what? Until she was certain her father would be put away where he couldn’t hurt her or her mother ever again?

  Revenge is…

  The pieces click in place. I feel sick.

  “Are you all right?” asks Lucille. “You look pale.”

  “I…I’ll be right back.”

  I race three blocks to the parking lot, frantically digging my phone from under the car seat. My heart thunders as I call Parker.

  “Now, this is a nice surprise,” he says.

  “She…killed…him.”

  “What? Calm down. Who killed who?”

  “Caprice Galdino…” I gasp for air, “killed her father.”

  “I’m not following,” says Parker. “I mean, I heard Galdino died, but—”

  I’m pacing the parking lot, thoughts racing. “Deke’s heart pills? He had this big old dog that died eating half a bottle of them. Caprice knew that, knew a whole bottle could easily kill a skinny weasel of a man like her father.” The summer air’s like a furnace, scorches my lungs. “Caprice stole Deke’s pills,” I say. “Deke figured he misplaced them, got a new refill. But she stole them.”

  “C’mon, Laura, that’s a bit of a stretch.”

  “Parker, you’re not listening. I saw the hatred on her face when she talked about her father.”

  Revenge is a dish…

  There’s silence on the line. Then, “Go on, I’m listening.”

  I shiver despite the heat. “Caprice waited until her father appealed his case. Then she arranged for someone – a guard, an inmate, the Galdino’s didn’t lack for contacts -- to grind up Deke’s pills and mix them into Galdino’s food, or force him to swallow them, or maybe Caprice brought her father a nice cup of orange Cool Aid of a summer’s day. However she did it, she did it. He’s dead and she’s home free.”

  “Look, Laura, it’s a theory. That’s all it is.”

  “But it feels true and right.” I lean against my car, yelping as molten metal sears my skin. A passing mother steers her toddler wide around this sweaty burny lady.

  “Tell you what,” Parker’s voice goes tender, “how about I grab a plane down tonight and we’ll talk things through.”

  I take a slow, deep breath, wait for a warning feeling that doesn’t come. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, I would like that.”

  My crochet stitches are too tight, too loose, never the same tension twice. My fingers ache and my hands complain. I finish the fi
rst row and begin the second, ever persistent, a woman on a mission, fueled by the image of my grandchild wearing this hat as he plays in his first winter snow.

  A woman with one face-lift too far and hair the color of cranberries, slips into the bench in front of me. She’s the woman who roams our complex every day, making endless lists of things she finds wrong – people parking in the Pool Only spaces, dog walkers who don’t scoop the poop, children on skate boards, residents swimming after hours. What’s she doing here?

  “All rise,” says the bailiff as Judge Kossoff enters.

  “What’s this case about?” I whisper to Lucille.

  “You’ll see,” she says, “oh, you’ll see.”

  We rise until the judge takes the bench, then settle in as the case begins. I carefully, lovingly, begin row three.

  Adult Novels by Susan Sussman

  MIAMI ICED

  THE DIETER

  TIME OFF from GOOD BEHAVIOR

  AUDITION FOR MURDER

  CRUISING FOR MURDER

  YOUNG WIVES’ TALES

  Praise for Susan Sussman books

  THE DIETER:

  “The Dieter reads on one level as glib entertainment.... But beneath the whipped cream is a nicely paced story with moments that are both amusing and touching... Her understanding of the plight of the compulsive eater and dieter, and of the various weight-loss programs, rings true....”

  —New York Times

  “THE DIETER is about gaining and losing: pounds, husbands, habits and friends. It is a delightful novel, intelligent, witty, and very moving.”

  —Susan Isaacs

  “Sussman’s clever, lighthearted novel chronicles Barbara Avers’s increasing avoirdupois... Barbara is also hell bent on a serious course of dieting...an odyssey that the author captures brilliantly and with uncanny insight.”

  —Publisher’s Weekly

  “Susan Sussman has created a witty, well-tailored, smart cookie of a character...[A] clever, literate novel.... Sussman has tapped into something more substantial than a story about women and food and love.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “An excellent novel for and about women...written with both wit and grit.... and from Susan Sussman, I hope for more novels about contemporary women...”

  —The Atlanta Journal-Constitution

  TIME OFF FROM GOOD BEHAVIOR:

  “...Full of wry wisecracks and savvy shtick...a thoroughly good time...if you’re in the market for nonstop one-liners and a view of life that’s as homey and reassuring as chicken soup, you don’t have to stand in line for a comic like Jackie Mason. Susan Sussman does it even better...

  —New York Times Book Review

  ... a wonderful marriage is such a delightful anachronism it’s worth writing a book about. ....the most remarkable feature of Time Off is its sense of humor... every test proves that this resilient, courageous couple actually can do just about anything.

  —Chicago Sun-Times

  “A Nora Ephron with warmth.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “Generous, madcap—and heartwarming.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  AUDITION FOR MURDER:

  “Chicago actress Morgan Taylor makes her memorable sleuthing debut.... Even the bit players make notable contributions in Sussman’s entertaining and witty romp, which will have readers applauding for an encore.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “A theater murder mystery! Sinfully funny, romantic, surprising, and thoroughly enjoyable.”

  —Barbara Gaines,

  Artistic Director Chicago Shakespeare Repertory Theater

  “—cheerful, with-it stream-of-consciousness narrative, along with some lively, fully-realized characters, and our heroine’s vibrant, warm, and funny persona. Altogether fresh and entertaining...”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Struggling actress Morgan Taylor emerges from the Chicago theater crowd as inspired sleuth when murder strikes close to home.... Additional human interest arises from potential romance, a best friend suffering from multiple sclerosis, a spoiled-rotten orphaned dog, and a plethora of actor/actress types. A thoroughly satisfying mystery debut.”

  —Library Journal

  “...hilarious -- The story holds many laugh-out-loud moments, and realistic details about Actor’s Equity, auditions, and rehearsals give it substance. Likewise, Morgan’s genuine concern for her friend and loyalty to her boss add depth to her often flippant character. Although this is Morgan’s first outing, one strongly hopes [for] an encore.”

  —Booklist

  CRUISING FOR MURDER:

  “Smart-ass girl detective series in the style of Janet Evanovich.”

  —Irish News

  “One of the most original, entertaining and enjoyable whodunits I’ve read for ages. A real pleasure.”

  —Sunday Tribune

  “A pleasant...funny heroine taking on the territory of two of America’s finest crimewriters (Evanovich and Paretsky)”

  —Yorkshire Post

  “Lively, fully-realized characters, and our heroine’s vibrant, warm and funny persona...[make for] a fresh and entertaining debut.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  MIAMI ICED

  Copyright © 2014 by Susan Sussman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Sussman, Susan

  MIAMI ICED – 1st ed.

  eISBN 978-1-4951-2441-9

  1. Female Sleuth – Fiction 2. Mystery – Fiction 3. Miami Mystery

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any other resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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