Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves

by Marty Ambrose

  A few muscle-bound guys doing free weights threw me wolf whistles. “It pays to advertise, babe,” one of them joked.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  I quickly moved into the small room off to the left where we had Tae Kwon Do class. Sam was already there, his black belt tied neatly around his trim waist. He was close to sixty but had that ageless look of a man totally at peace with himself. Head mostly bald, a tiny gold hoop in one ear, he appeared to be a cross between the guy-next-door and the Dalai Lama. Sam could talk about Descartes or the current American Idol and fix whatever ailed your house-or trailer, in my case-all in one visit.

  The Jordan twins, Morgan and Megan, were already there warming up, along with a tall, broad-shouldered guy who had his back to me. I allowed the blue-belted twins one envious glance. At seventeen, they could kick as high as professional dancers and move like lightning. I hated sparring with either one of them because I always ended up with bruises from head to toe. They showed no mercy to someone of my advanced age of twenty-nine.

  “Mallie, what’d ya do? Put your face in an oven?” Megan sniggered.

  “No, I used the microwave.”

  “Morgan, Megan, finish your warm-up” Sam motioned them to the bane so they could stretch their legs. As if they needed it. Then he turned to me, concern in his eyes. “What happened?”

  “At the last minute, I was given the assignment to cover the Little Coral Island trail opening this morning. I didn’t realize it would take almost three hours to hike it. You know my skin and the sun”

  “Did you get some aloe?”

  “I bought some lotion right after the walk.”

  “No, you need to take the raw stalks from the plant, split them open, and rub the gel on your face. There are some growing outside-I’ll break off a couple of pieces for you after class.”

  “Mucho thanks, my friend.”

  He eyed my Frozen Flamingo tee. “Nice shirt.”

  “That’s only part of this day from hell.” As we stretched together, I gave him an abbreviated version of the sequence of events from finding Gina’s body to being transformed into a human billboard.

  The only part that caused a reaction from him was my meeting with Aunt Lily. A mere flicker behind his eyes, but I caught it nonetheless. “So, what do you think? Was she right in asking me to investigate Gina’s death? More important, will I end up telling off Bernice before the end of the week?”

  “I think I need to mull it over. Let’s finish our talk after class.”

  “But-“

  “Exercise first. Then we’ll solve the problems of Mallie’s Mad World.”

  Reluctantly I nodded and slipped my jacket over my head. Then I wrapped my white belt with its yellow tip around my waist. It had taken me six months to earn the tip, which meant I was halfway to my yellow belt. God only knew how long it would take to actually have a colored belt, but I was determined to stick it out-if only to show those annoying Jordan twins.

  “We’ve got a new member in class tonight,” Sam announced as we lined up to bow in. “I think you all know him.”

  I glanced past the Jordan twins and beheld Nick Billie, looking all-powerful and sexy in a dobok and black belt.

  “You do martial arts?” I sputtered.

  “For ten years” He tightened his belt and straightened his jacket. “I’ve been working out in my garage for a while, but Sam convinced me I needed to be back in a formal class again.”

  “Oh” Nice comeback.

  “Nick is going to be your sparring partner tonight,” Sam pronounced as he took his position in front us.

  My pulse jolted as a tiny thrill snaked through me. I’d be doing contact sports with Nick Billie tonight-the man who caused me to go weak in the knees. The man who sparked a physical attraction from me that could light up a Christmas tree. The man who had held my hand under the black mangrove tree only this morning. Wow.

  And I thought I’d had an eventful day thus far.

  The fireworks were only beginning.

  e moved through our usual class activities of punching and kicking drills, took a short water break, and then practiced our kata-the sequence of movements that simulate actual combat. Everyone else looked as if they were performing ballet moves. I, however, resembled an injured bird trying to take flight but never quite making it off the ground. It wasn’t that I didn’t try hard. I did. But my sense of balance consisted of being able to stand on one foot for maybe thirty seconds.

  Nick Billie, of course, executed each move in the class with precision and grace. And I couldn’t help but notice his rippling muscles under the dobok jacket. If anything, he looked even more powerful in his Tae Kwon Do uniform than he did in his usual jeans and button-down shirt. Hot.

  “All right. I want you to pair up with a sparring partner,” Sam said, as he pulled out the thick, padded mats. “First, we’ll do some throws, then move into free sparring.”

  Oh, joy. My two least favorite parts of class.

  Nick and I strode onto the mat and stood face-to-face.

  “Which throws have you learned?” he asked.

  “The first five”

  “Go ahead and do them to me. Then I’ll practice on you.”

  I eyed his wide shoulders. He looked tough, lean, and sinewy. How in the world would I ever be able to throw him anywhere?

  Sam appeared at my side. “Remember, size isn’t important in martial arts. Everyone can be brought down with the right kind of force exerted on pressure points.”

  I took in a deep breath and started my first throw. I grabbed Nick’s jacket, pulled him toward me as I slipped my right foot behind his ankle. Then I swept his leg forward and twisted him backward onto the mat.

  “Wow, I did it.” My eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Nick Billie lying at my feet.

  He swept his right foot around in an arc, catching me around the ankles. I thumped down onto the mat next to him, jarring everything inside me-including the potato chips I’d eaten on my way to the fitness center.

  “Don’t assume your opponent is immobilized just because he’s down,” Sam pointed out.

  “That wasn’t fair,” I protested as I struggled to my feet and brushed off my bruised ego. “You said I was doing my throws first.”

  “Part of the throw is getting out of the way after your opponent is down.” Nick grinned as he rose in one fluid movement.

  “Thanks for the warning. I’ll make sure I do that next time.” I proceeded to do my next four throws, trying to slam him onto the mat with all the force I could-and stepping back when the move was over. Needless to say, he didn’t drop nearly hard enough. Somehow he barely made contact with the mat and would roll back onto his feet. He was like a jungle cat. Wouldn’t you just know?

  “I’m going to show you some new moves” Nick grasped my belt and pulled me close. His face moved to within inches of mine. We locked glances, his dark eyes fastened on me with that smoldering intensity that I found mesmerizing.

  “What … what are you going to do to me?” My mouth turned as dry as cotton candy.

  “Just this.” He raised one knee and twisted me around it. As he dropped his leg, I fell to the mat-yet again.

  “Cool move,” Megan enthused. “Could you do it to her again, so I can learn it?”

  “Me too,” Morgan piped up.

  I glared at both of them as I struggled to my feet. “I’m not a human guinea pig.”

  “Let Nick demonstrate a couple of times,” Sam said. “It’s all part of learning.”

  “Easy for you to say,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Hey, I was careful not to let you drop too hard.” Nick grasped my belt again. “Trust me, I won’t hurt you”

  He repeated the move, though he kept a hold on my belt, so I didn’t break a leg or anything. My pride was the only thing bruised-as usual. Megan and Morgan clapped every time I hit the mat, and I began to plot different ways to take my revenge on the twins from hell. Images of “accidentally” tossing gum into
their hair floated through my mind. Or spilling a whole bottle of Gatorade into their gym bags “by mistake.”

  Finally, the throw humiliation ended, and we took a water break. Drenched in sweat, I knew my sunburned face must’ve been the color of a cooked beet.

  “You looked good out there,” Nick said, lounging against a wall, water bottle in hand.

  “Good? I was squashed on the mat like a mosquito under your hand” I gulped down my Gatorade.

  “It’s all part of martial arts training. You have to know who’s in charge” One side of his mouth crooked upward.

  “Oh, pleeeeease.” I bristled. “You might be a higher belt in the dojang, but that doesn’t mean you’re superior to me in any other way.”

  “But I might know things that you don’t. And not just in the martial arts. I’ve been on this island a lot longer than you have.” He took a swig of water, and his expression turned almost playful. What? Nick Billie acting mischievous?

  “I’ve learned a lot in the year I’ve lived here.” My eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Are you talking about Gina Fernandez?”

  “I might be”

  “Did you find out anything about her death?”

  “Maybe” He took another casual drink of water. “I heard you were asking a lot of questions again-at Mama Maria’s, at Island Decor-“

  “Only for background information on my article about Gina’s death” That was sort of true.

  “Be careful.” His voice turned a bit more serious. “Her death is going to affect a lot of people on Coral Island, and no one is going to take too kindly to an … outsider digging up dirt on the Mango Queen”

  Outsider! It was on the tip of my tongue to start arguing with him, but I was in the dojang. I had to behave with courtesy. Besides, I’d learned that butting heads with Nick Billieeven if he were more relaxed than usual-did nothing except give me a headache. “So, Gina was well liked?” I tilted my head upward with a polite expression of inquiry.

  “By most.”

  “She was certainly attractive. I’ll bet she made a striking Mango Queen. I’m just sorry I didn’t do a story on her getting the crown a couple of nights ago”

  His eyes turned somber. “At least Gina had that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person look happier.”

  “Wasn’t she a shoo-in to win? I gathered from what Brandi said this morning that Gina had been campaigning all year to become Mango Queen.”

  “All island women wanted the title, but Gina and Brandi coveted it the most. From what I heard, they were neck and neck right up till the final judging.”

  “So it was down to the two of them?”

  Nick finished his water and threw the empty bottle into his gym bag. “One judge’s decision threw the vote Gina’s way. It was four/three split.”

  “That must’ve been quite a blow to Brandi.” I replaced the cap on my Gatorade. “Of course, now that Gina is gone, she’ll be the Mango Queen”

  “What are you getting at?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. Just making an observation. You don’t happen to know the name of the judge who cast the deciding ballot, do-“

  “All right, Mallie, you can cut the nicey-nice routine. I like you better when you’re spitting at me like a wildcat. At least I know where you’re coming from”

  “And I prefer you when you’re rigid and unyielding. Then I know where you’re coming from.” I gave him a wink. “All I did was ask an innocent question.”

  He burst out with a throaty laugh. “There’s no such thing as an `innocent’ question from you-especially when it involves a suspicious death.”

  “So you do think there could’ve been foul play.”

  “I didn’t say that”

  “But you hinted-“

  “Look, I told you I’d let you know when I had the autopsy results. Until then, it’s idle speculation to think that Gina’s death was caused by anything other than natural causes”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What about the syringe that was next to her body? I’d hardly call that `natural’-“

  “Shh” He placed an index finger over his mouth. “I don’t want the whole dojang to hear-especially those two blabbermouth twins. If they get wind of anything, it’ll be all around the island by lunchtime tomorrow.”

  I glanced across the room and noticed that the usually boisterous duo had become very quiet and had started to drift in our direction.

  “Just because that syringe was there doesn’t mean Gina used it,” he pointed out in a low voice. “It could’ve been left in the grass by someone else days ago”

  I turned back to him. “But what if her prints are on it?”

  He paused. “Then we’ll be a step closer to knowing what happened”

  I touched his arm. “It’s not only for the newspaper. I want to know what happened to Gina. She had everything going for her, and to have her life end so suddenly … It’s just tragic.”

  His hand covered mine. “I feel the same way.”

  Sparks shot up my arm from his fingers.

  “Okay, break time is over.” Sam slapped Nick on the back. “We’ve got a few more self-defense techniques to work on”

  Nick dropped his hand and moved away.

  “You two looked mighty cozy,” Sam commented.

  “Let’s just say we finally agreed on something.” I tightened my belt.

  “Such as?”

  “I’ll fill you in after class.”

  He led me to the center of the dojang, where we worked on a few self-defense moves, none of which I could do very well. Then we did some push-ups and, finally, ended class. Needless to say, I was drenched in sweat once again, whereas Nick barely had a few beads of perspiration on his forehead.

  The twins left, whispering and pointing in my direction on their way out. I glared in response, which elicited giggles.

  “It feels good to be back in class,” Nick said to Sam as he loosened his black belt and removed his dobok jacket.

  My mouth almost dropped open as his bare chest was revealed: a magnificent, finely muscled upper torso. In fact, it was one of the sexiest I’d ever seen, not that I’d seen all that many recentlyjust those of the elderly retirees who walked the beach at the Twin Palms. And those sagging pecs weren’t a pleasant sight, let me tell you.

  Breathless, I dabbed at my face with a towel, hoping they’d think it was because of the push-ups and not because the sight of Nick Billie’s bare chest had gotten me all hot and bothered.

  Nick reached into his gym bag and pulled out a white T-shirt. As he slipped it over his head, I took one last look at the black curly hair that covered his chest. Yummy.

  “Wait here, Mallie. I want to get some aloe stalks for your sunburn” After Sam exited, we stood there in awkward silence. Was it possible Nick could tell that a wave of attraction had just rolled over me with the power of a tropical storm?

  I cleared my throat. “So, you’re going to call me with that autopsy report in a day or two?”

  “Don’t you think about anything else?”

  “Not when my job is on the line.”

  “I thought you liked moving around”

  For a moment, the lure of the open road appeared in my mind, and I could see myself in my truck, driving my Airstream and teacup poodle to our next adventure. I cut off the fantasies. That was the old Mallie. “This is where I belong-for now. And now that I’ve got Bernice the Butthead forcing me to do her version of `reality journalism,’ I’ve got to watch my back and keep my focus. I need that information as soon as you get it.”

  He chuckled and tweaked my chin. “Sure” He heaved his gym bag over his shoulder. “I’ll call you” On his way out, he murmured a couple of words to Sam, who was coming back in, stalks of aloe in hand. I couldn’t make out what he said, but Sam looked at me with an odd expression. What in the world had gotten into Nick Billie? Had the island cop gone soft?

  “What were you two talking about?” I asked, watching as Sam slit open the aloe stalk’s thick green skin.<
br />
  “Just man talk.”

  “Thanks a lot. Now you evoke the macho brotherhood on me.”

  “Hardly that” He scooped out a glob of clear, sticky liquid. “Nick and I go way back. I’ve known him since he first came to the island.”

  “What was he like then?”

  “Pretty much the same” He rubbed the gooey stuff all over my face.

  “Yuck” I inhaled with a grimace. “It smells like an old tire.”

  “Aloe has healing properties-trust me. By tomorrow, the redness will be way down”

  “What about the freckles?”

  He smiled down at me. “I think those are terminal.”

  We both laughed.

  “Seriously, what makes Nick Billie tick?” I slipped off my dobok jacket. “I know all about that case on the Miccosukee Reservation when he was with the tribal police and a young boy died. That’s why he came here to Coral Island. I’d like to know more about him … personally.”

  Sam said nothing for a few minutes as he brushed the excess aloe gel off my face. “He’s a complicated man. Getting close to him might be more than you’re ready for. You could get tangled in the thorns.”

  “What do you mean? He’s been sort of … nice recently.”

  “Roses have thorns. They are sensual, attractive, but you never know when you might get hurt.”

  “Oh, come on.” I waved a dismissive hand. “He can’t be that dangerous”

  Sam leveled a long, low glance in my direction. “I think we both know he is.”

  Something stirred uneasily inside of me. “Maybe you’re right. I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of involvement. My old boyfriend, Cole, is coming to visit, and he’s .. ” My voice trailed off.

  “Safer?” Sam split another aloe stalk and handed it to me.

  “More predictable. More like the guys I’ve always dated. I don’t think love has to be this heavy, gut-wrenching experience. It should be light and happy and carefree”

  “That’s not love, Mallie-that’s just hanging out together. Real love turns your soul inside out”

  I held up a hand. “If that’s love, I don’t want it.”