by H R Jones
“You’re right, Gretchen. You’re always right. I know you’ve given up a lot of vacation time, especially since we fired Lyle. I think six weeks in Florida will do you a world of good. God knows, I’d like to get out of this cold climate for even a few days. Maybe someday the city will hire a competent deputy. I’ll talk to my wife tonight. I think she just might like a little break from the mundane and a chance to spend more time with me. Of course, she should come in and work with you for a couple of days before you leave.”
~ * ~
So on an exceptionally frosty, blustery, cold, winter morning, Gretchen headed out, camper trailer in tow, to enjoy the warmth of the sunny south.
After three days on the road, staying in motels due to inclement weather, they finally pulled into a camp site in the warmth of the Florida sun, to stay for a few days. Gretchen and Norm were looking forward to taking a side trip or two, then make their way further south to the Florida Keys, and hopefully find campground with vacancies.
Their first week was spent mostly relaxing, taking easy, short trips around the Gulf side. They were anxious to take in a few of the well-advertised attractions, and enjoy some surf time at the beach. The next week they spent a couple of days in the Fort Lauderdale/Miami area, then they went on down through the Everglades and on to the Keys.
They couldn’t believe their luck when they were able to find a nice little ‘mom and pop’ campground right on the beach. Gretchen would be cooking a lot of their meals, but occasionally they’d eat at the restaurant/bar they’d discovered just across the road called the White Shutters. The food was very good, the atmosphere congenial and fun, and it was just a short, leisurely walk across the road and down the beach to their campsite.
One evening as they sat enjoying their fruity rum drinks on the lanai at the White Shutters, they chatted about what they’d seen so far and whether they’d ever consider coming back to spend more time in Florida. Getting close to retirement, they knew they’d not want to spend the coldest winter months back home in the ‘Frozen Tundra;’ they’d want to head for warmer weather for a few months. So they chatted about the pros and cons, advantages and disadvantages of being where it was warm, their likes and dislikes of Florida so far, and what their impressions were of the area. They also wondered if they should try somewhere else next winter, perhaps look into retirement areas in Texas. They had friends who seemed to like it there better than Florida. They’d heard so much about South Padre Island. It was definitely an area to be investigated. Or perhaps they should head further west to Arizona, maybe even California, and see if it were even more to their liking there.
As they chatted, Gretchen noticed a nice looking, blond-haired man sitting alone at the nearly empty bar. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, nor resist glancing in his direction.
Norm noticed her fascination with the man, reached over, put his arm around her, pulling her close, saying, “If he’s making eyes at you, I can go over and deck him.”
She turned to him, laughing, and gave him a kiss. “Don’t be silly. He’s just such an interesting looking man. I’m trying to decide if he’s a natural blond,” she giggled, “or if it’s a dye job. But, you know what’s really weird, though, he looks oddly familiar. I know, that’s just silly. Who on earth would we know down here at the tip of the United States? Right? Why we’re practically all the way to Cuba.”
They resumed talking about Florida, about it perhaps being a viable place to come when, and if, they retired. And, if so, would they really want to be here, in the Keys, or more north around the Naples area? Granted, all of Florida was busy and in many areas downright congested. Did they want the hassle of bumper to bumper traffic and crowded everything…not just beaches, but restaurants, and attractions?
When they were ready to order, the waiter came by to ask if they wanted to eat on the cabana, inside, or on the lanai. They stated their preference for the lanai. They were enjoying it there where they could feel the breeze and hear the sounds as the tide came rushing in and sliding back out. They ordered another round of drinks and looked over the menu.
At one point, Gretchen happened to glance in the direction of the blond-haired man, again. She saw he’d quickly turned away when she glanced his way, as if he’d been staring at her. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and looked away as well. Gretchen felt surer than before, he indeed looked like someone she knew, or should know.
“What’s the matter Gretchen? You’ve gone very pale.”
Between her teeth and in a low whisper she said, “Don’t look,” he started to turn his head, she squeezed his hand tightly, looking into his eyes, saying, “NO, don’t look now. I just caught him staring at me. Norm?” she admonished again and boinked him on the wrist with her knuckle, “Don’t look… he could be some weirdo, or a serial killer.”
“Oh, right,” he whispered in mock conspiracy. “Besides, Gretchen, weren’t you the one staring at him?”
“Oh, Norm.”
The next time she glanced his way, he was gone. They enjoyed a lovely meal and the intoxicating atmosphere of the Keys. After dinner they took a slow, romantic stroll down the beach and watched the moon’s glow lay a swath of light over the calm water. It was a particularly lovely evening.
~ * ~
“Oh, my God,” she said out loud, sitting straight up in bed, grabbing Norm’s arm. It was after three in the morning.
“What the hell’s the matter?” Norm mumbled from under the covers. “Go back to sleep.”
Shaking, Gretchen held his arm tighter.
“Ouch! What’s the matter with you? Do you know what time it is?” he said, his head hitting the low ceiling as he sat up. Her fingers felt as cold and as sharp as icicles.
“I just figured out why the blond man looked so familiar, and I know who he is! I’ve been staring at his face for years on the wanted poster in my office, Norm. It’s Rory Star. We’ve gotta get outta here. As soon as the sun is up, we’ve got to go!”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know, but far away from here. I’ve got to get to a phone and call John. I just hope blond guy didn’t figure out who I was. I saw a police station a few miles back. We could go there in the morning and I’m sure they’ll let me call when I tell them who I am and who I’m calling. I can’t involve the local authorities without first contacting John. Then he’ll need to talk to the officer in charge here, and…
“Are you sure, honey? You don’t want to accuse him of something. What if it’s the wrong guy?”
“It’s not the wrong guy,” she said emphatically in a loud whisper. “Trust me, Norm, it is not the wrong guy!”
“Well there’s nothing we can do till morning, so you might just as well get some rest.”
“Are you kidding me?” She was yelling in a loud, horse, raspy whisper. “Sleep? Really? You must be joking. I could never more sleep than I could fly right now.”
“Gretchen, honey, its three-thirty in the morning. What are you going to do till sun-up?”
“Pack! Get everything I can battened down, so when we get up we can leave right away.”
“We can’t leave right away.”
“Why?”
“Well, well, because, well…”
“Baloney, we will leave right away and you will have to wait for your stupid coffee till we’re well away from here. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, but, I need to shower, dress, and have my coffee…”
“Not this morning you won’t! Are we clear on that?”
“Okay, okay, okay. Well, I might just as well get up now.”
“Good idea. You’re right. We definitely should get up so we can leave before daylight.”
“Now, Gretchen,” he admonished, “we aren’t going to leave here in the dark. I’ve heard of people who’ve taken wrong turns because they thought they were on a road and ended up in one of them swamps or the ocean. We aren’t familiar with this area. I’m not going to drive out of here in the dark. Besides, there’
s the wild animals to contend with.” He saw her scrunch up her face.
“Huh? I get the part about the roads, but wild animals? Like what?”
“Well, well, well, there’s, there’s the, the, you know, the Florida panther…
“Aren’t they a football team or something?” she interjected.
“There’s all sorts of poisonous snakes, and boa constrictors, and I don’t know—all kinds of weird things out there in the night.
Gretchen started giggling in spite of herself. “Well, let’s at least get packed and get dressed so we can leave as soon as possible to avoid the rush and the boa constrictors.”
“Oh all right. I might just as well get up now, too. I’m wide awake anyway. What are we going to do for the next two hours or so?”
“Well, for one thing, I’m going to sit down and try to remember everything about the blond guy. That’s just it. Lying here I got to thinking and said to myself, ‘that’s it, he isn’t really a blond.’ Then I began picturing him with different color hair, and the minute I pictured him with black, curly hair, I realized why he looked so familiar. It is Rory Star, Norm. I know, I know, I can’t quite explain it. It’s like I knew instinctively he wasn’t what he appeared to be. He’s a bit too long in the tooth to be trying to get away with the blond, surfer boy look, though. Besides, his coloring is all wrong for him to be a blond. Oh, I don’t know Norm, I just know it’s him and I hope he hasn’t figured out who I am.”
Thirty-four
Ricky wondered if the woman at the bar was looking at him and thinking, Now there’s one handsome devil. He had to chuckle.
~ * ~
Leaha came running down the path toward him. He held out his arms ready to embrace her. She showered him with kisses, whispering, “Come with me.”
Taking his hand, she led him back through the palmetto and palms in the direction from which she’d just come. She moved so swiftly, nearly running.
“Where are we going, Leaha?” The words no sooner left his tongue when ahead of him he could see twinkling lights. As they got closer, he saw the lights were intertwined in the foliage around a lanai, at the back of, what he decided, must be Leaha’s little cottage.
He heard waves breaking on the beach, so figured they were quite close to the water. “Where are we, Leaha?”
“I told you I would bring you to my home when I was ready.” She stood on her toes, holding his face with her warm hands, kissing him passionately.
He lifted her up and into his arms, cradling her as he carried her to the oversized chaise longue, laying her down gently.
She’d wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly, he nearly fell on top of her. Her hands frantically began working to release the button of his jeans.
He snaked his hands up under her dress, only to discover she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. In a matter of moments, his resolve to take things slowly with Leaha was lost. His desires, held in check far too long, took control.
She cried out, in release.
Quickly, so no one would hear, he covered her mouth with his own, and skillfully released the hungry ‘beast’ that wouldn’t be denied.
So bent on meeting his own pleasures, he didn’t notice she’d gone limp. Sated at last, he rolled off her, dripping sweat. Lifting himself up on his elbow, he leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were moist and parted, as if waiting for his.
It was when he kissed her he realized they were no longer hot, her eyes once filled with hope and love stared sightlessly into his own.
He spoke her name. Nothing. He touched her face. It too was no longer hot with desire, even though the night was torrid. Her unseeing eyes continued to haunt him. He felt for a pulse; there was none. She was dead and he had no idea why.
~ * ~
After ridding the lanai of any evidence of his having been there, he went looking for something in which to wrap her body. He finally found a sheet in a bathroom linen closet. He went back and covered her face. Once he found it, he began wrapping Leaha’s body with the rest of the sheet. He double checked everything again, then turned off the lights on the lanai, hoisted her over his shoulder and began to make his way back to his shack in the dark, starless night, avoiding the lights from the White Shutters.
For someone so small, she weighed heavily on Ricky’s shoulder. With each and every step he took, his feet sank deeper in the sand. Thankfully, the sand was cooler, and the White Shutters was having a busy night. With only the one bartender and one waitress, they were slammed. It meant no one had time to wonder where he or Leaha was.
As he paced, Ricky tried to figure out how to get rid of the body. There wasn’t much ground in which to bury her on that little piece of land he’d found. He also would need to have an alibi. He stopped pacing, trying to recall who knew he’d been seeing Leaha…the bartender? No I don’t think he knows I’ve been seeing her, except for the first night when we had drinks together. He’s never made any comments suggesting he thought Leaha and I were seeing one another. Well, I’ll have to play it cool. If I’m questioned, it will be like, sure I knew her. Great kid…we had a couple of drinks together, you know, nothing else.
I have to take her to the island tomorrow. If I leave before sunup, I should be able to get her buried before most people are up and moving for the day. How am I going to get her there? I can’t just throw her over my shoulder and head for the beach. He paced back and forth and up and down, trying to figure out how he could carry Leaha to the little isle.
Finally, it came to him. I’ll put her in my surfboard bag. No one will be the wiser.
He set about emptying the bag. He was exhausted, sweating like a butcher by the time he’d finished fitting Leaha’s body into the large canvas bag.
He took a shower, had a beer and felt refreshed.
~ * ~
The following morning, Ricky was up before the dawn, making his way down the beach with his heavy burden. He was so intent on his mission he didn’t notice the people in the campground across the road, as they pulled out. The moon had been covered with clouds the night before… it now cast a silvery light across the crests of the gentle waves as they licked the shore, then retreated to the cooling depths of the sea. It was so quiet, so still. One could only hear the scuttle of some sea creatures as they made their way back to the water.
Ricky needed the sand and the water to hide the body. He’d at least remembered to bring his small camping shovel, tucking it in the bag with Leaha. He double checked the area around him, looking for any sign of fishing boats or early risers who may have decided to take an early morning walk along the beach. Ricky made his way to the little piece of land just a couple of yards off shore, which seemed to be free floating, and waded into the shallow waters of the inlet.
He was so lucky to have found just the right spot where his secret would be safe.
He removed the shovel and began to dig. It was more difficult than he thought…then he hit water. Well, there wasn’t much he could do about it. It would just mean he’d have to weigh her down. He looked around for some floating debris which may have become lodged on the sand or washed up on the little cay.
He lifted Leaha, who was permanently and for eternity locked in a fetal position after being in the bag. He kicked it to one side, and laid her in the shallow, watery grave. He began shoveling spadeful after spadeful of sand to cover her. He was getting short on sand, so made use of some of the dried up palms and other vegetation he found to place over the shallow grave. He tried to make Leaha’s resting place look natural, as if it hadn’t been disturbed.
Ricky checked the area around him one more time. He happened to notice a small fishing boat in the distance, so he splashed around in the surf, swimming out a few yards and back, making it appear as if he were doing his morning constitutional.
Ricky stood for a few moments doing stretches and bends, then made his way back. After going several yards, he remembered he didn’t have the surfboard bag. He turned and ran back to retrieve it as fast as possible i
n the thick sand. It was gone! He looked all around. For a moment, he wondered if he’d buried Leaha in it. No, that’s silly. It was right next to me. He looked all over the little isle and scuffed up some of the downed vegetation, but there was no sign of his duffle. Ricky walked the perimeter and still, no sign of his bag anywhere. It must have washed out to sea, he decided. Well, he couldn’t hang around any longer; he had at least remembered the shovel. If someone did come along it would raise suspicions. It wasn’t like the tree line back home.
Thirty-five
It was dark and very early when Gretchen and Norm finished packing their trailer and began to head out.
As they pulled out of the camping resort, Gretchen spotted the scraggily looking, blond-haired, fellow she’d seen in the bar at the White Shudders the night before, walking toward the water.
“Look, Norm, quick. Do you see him? Doesn’t that look like Rory Star? Huh? Don’t you think?” she said, poking him in the ribs.
“I don’t know, Gretchen, I really never got a close up of the guy back home, so how would I know?” he asked, a bit perturbed. “Besides, it’s too damn dark out to make out who or what the hell he is, anyway.”
“Well, I just know it’s him, put the pedal to the metal, Norm, and let’s get outta here. I see him but I don’t think he’s seen us. Come on, Norm, hurry.”
“All right, all right, but it’s not like I can put the hammer down with this big camper clinging to our backside. Not like I can drag race outta here.”
“Just hurry. I don’t think he saw us, and anyway he was staring at me, not you, so if he looks in the window it’s your ugly mug he’ll see.” She laughed again.
As they made their way down the highway, she looked back. She noticed the guy was carrying some sort of bag. “Hmmmm, wonder where he’s going this time of the morning?” she mumbled to herself.
