Johnnie Finds a Dead Body

by DS Whitaker

  How would he know that? Thom rolled down the window. “Hold on. So, I kidnap your girlfriend and in under an hour you buy a multi-million-dollar real-estate investment company? That’s not even possible.”

  “You messed with the wrong bloke.”

  Thom brandished his gun. “Maybe. But I’m done and I’m leaving now.” He put the SUV in reverse, swerving away, gunning it across the lot. The back tires made flopping noises. What the hell?

  Flashing lights appeared in his rearview mirror and to the side of him. Thom slammed on the brakes. Boxed in.

  `He whipped open the door, ran across the two-lane highway, his arms pumping, up through the brush, climbing the hill to the south.

  Police called out, “Stop, we’ll shoot.”

  Thom fired two shots behind him, not aiming, continuing to climb. It was so dark he could hardly see the ground in front of him. But he knew where he was going. The map he studied earlier showed a route, if he could only find it. Rule Number 8, ‘always have three exit strategies’.

  After five minutes, he no longer heard radios or sirens, knowing he was clear.

  With the Bitcoin, he could get off the island and start his new life.

  His passport was in his vest pocket.

  All he needed now was to lay-low and get to his boat.

  ***

  When Smith ran off, Johnnie rushed to Gertie.

  “Are you okay?” He took the cloth off her head.

  Gertie nodded.

  “Come, we need to move, in case he comes back.” He grabbed her waist and helped her up; they dashed across the sand to the tree line near the east end. Near some rocks, they crouched in a dark spot. Sirens and yells pierced the air. A good sign. The police had arrived.

  Cudlow emerged onto the center of the beach shouting, “Gertie! John!”

  Johnnie held Gertie’s hand firmly as they rose. “We’re here.”

  Gertie broke free; the lovers jogged toward each other. Johnnie followed but let the two have their reunion.

  Cud nearly tackled Gertie. “I’m so relieved. Are you okay? Did that gorilla hurt you?”

  “I’m fine. Somehow, I wasn’t worried. Maybe being outnumbered by seven-year-olds for twenty-five years made me impervious to bullies.”

  More kissy stuff. Johnnie patted Cud on the back, “Did you see Stumpy? That was hilarious.”

  Gertie brushed sand from her knees. “Can we just go home now?”

  Cudlow kissed her hand. “About that—”

  The lights and the sirens in the parking lot held more interest than the soap opera in front of him. Johnnie headed that way. More police vehicles arrived with their flashing lights. Like a stormtrooper, Tobias marched toward him.

  Tobias barked, “What the hell happened? Officer Bell called me fifteen minutes ago about a kidnapping. Where’s Miss Brown?”

  Gertie and Cudlow walked up, arms around each other’s waist. “I’m here,” she said. “All in one piece.”

  Tobias’ face seemed happy. Johnnie discerned what seemed to be a smile on the Chief’s face. This was a first time Johnnie perceived the Chief had any facet of human compassion or caring. Maybe Tobias wasn’t actually the love child of the Terminator and Genghis Khan.

  In what might be described as a soft voice, although still with a baritone that could summon elephants, the Chief said, “Ms. Brown, the EMTs will be here shortly to check on you.”

  She said, “Honestly, I’m fine. Can I just give a statement and go home?”

  “Sorry. But we’ll try to be quick. I’ll walk you over to Officer Cage and she’ll ask you a few questions.” He turned to Johnnie and Cud. “And you two, I’m not letting you out of my sights. Come along.” Tobias’ usual tone of contempt mixed with constipation had returned.

  They followed.

  Cud whispered to Johnnie. “What’s our story?”

  Johnnie shrugged and whispered back. “I don’t know. Maybe the truth?”

  “I don’t want to go to prison. I have urgent business back home. Like you said, stealing from a dead person…”

  “I’ll say I found the thumb drive on the beach the day after Bob.”

  Tobias stopped and turned his head. “What are you girls talking about?”

  They both replied in unison, “Nothing.”

  At the parking lot, the police interviewed everyone. Formal statements could wait and be provided at the police station later. Cudlow and Gertie were talking with Officer Cage a few feet away.

  When Tobias began questioning Robin, Johnnie leaned against the park entrance sign and couldn’t stop grinning. As he listened, Stumpy ran up the sidewalk, seized something on the pavement in his mouth and brought it up to him like a puppy bringing a slipper.

  Johnnie crouched. “Whatcha got there?”

  Stumpy dropped it at his feet. [Here Johnny!]

  Who had taught him this?

  It was a small red-leather notebook, smaller than a cell-phone, with lined pages. He skimmed through it. There were lists of rules and stuff about how to kidnap people effectively. Did Smith keep a diary? What were the chances?

  The iguana rested his front legs on his sneaker. [Treat?]

  “Sorry, Stumpy. I’ll get you next time.”

  Stumpy wandered off.

  Tobias was only three yards away. He could just hand the book to him. Easy, peasy. But no, Tobias was a tool. Johnnie made a mental note to give it to Arturo later. There had to be some really incriminating shit in there and maybe some clues on where Smith might go.

  Tobias, his feet apart, arms crossed, asked Robin, “So you met with Thomas Smith about a bridge project and had him followed?”

  Robin crossed her arms, mimicking him. “Unlike you, when someone is acting suspicious, I investigate them.”

  “What are you implying?” Tobias put his hands on his hips.

  “Apparently you were so easily conned into believing Smith’s story about being Mr. Taylor’s brother, you escorted him here to harass Johnnie. You know, I’ll be putting that in my statement later. The FBI will also be curious—”

  His eyes threw daggers. “You don’t have to be spiteful.”

  Robin pointed to herself. “Me? You jailed my brother purely on speculation. I think he has a good civil suit for defamation, battery and unlawful imprisonment. In fact, I know Mr. Greaves is champing at the bit for a juicy case like this.”

  Tobias shook his head and growled, “Look. You win. You and your merry band of amateur detectives can go home.” He waved at them dismissively and went to talk with another group of officers.

  Robin shouted after him, “Call me when you find Smith. Although I doubt you could find your own navel.”

  Johnnie hit Robin in the shoulder playfully. “Nice one, Sis.”

  She said, “John, promise me you’ll stay out of trouble for a while. Please.” For emphasis, she grabbed his shirt with both fists.

  “I will. Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky, just like they did when they were kids. Although, maybe he needed to be more adult. Gertie could have died. Maybe not the best time to tease.

  She rolled her eyes and hooked her pinky in his. She stuck out her tongue at him, “Butthead,” and walked to her car.

  Cudlow and Gertie were finished with Officer Cage. Cud gave the car keys to Gertie. “I won’t be coming with you.”

  “Why? Are we staring our break? After everything that happened, I think you should stay.”

  “I want to stay. But I can’t. I’ll be in touch.” Cud kissed Gertie on the cheek and chased after Robin. “Can you give me a ride to the car ferry dock? A helicopter is meeting me there.”

  Gertie sidled up to Johnnie, watching Cud get in Robin’s car. “What was that? Did Cudlow say where he’s going?”

  “Something about business back home. Maybe the Bahamas? That’s all I know. Wait, he also said it was urgent.”

  “What could be so urgent he has to leave in the middle of the night?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”


  ***

  Dear Diary,

  Another boring day.

  Ha! Psyche! Fooled you. I just got home and it’s after 2 a.m. Tobias interviewed all of us, but was still an ass. And Gertie has to go give a written statement tomorrow. The whole police force is out looking for Smith. Robin called the FBI.

  I made some really bad mistakes. Maybe I should have killed the creep with the shovel and avoided all this. But Gertie is safe now and Thom the butt-hole is out of our lives.

  It pisses me off that he got away with all that money, considering he probably killed two people for that stupid bridge project.

  In other news, Cud left and went back to the Bahamas. I really don’t know what is going on with him and Gertie, but I’m staying out of it.

  Also, Robin and Arturo seem very friendly. I’m glad for her. He’s a good guy.

  I’m supposed to give another guided trail hike tomorrow and need to report in five hours. It’s been a long day, so I’m heading to sleep.

  Goodnight Diary,

  Love, Johnnie

  P.S., I should bring Stumpy a bunch of treats. He’s deserves a year’s supply.

  Chapter 25

  Thursday morning, Robin took a taxi to Mary Taylor’s temporary residence near Smith Bay on St. Thomas. She didn’t recognize her at first with her dark sunglasses and flowered bucket hat.

  “I want to hear everything,” Mary said.

  “Me, too.” Robin held the door for her. “We’ll go to the legislature building. The FBI will meet us there.”

  Mary nodded.

  Once inside the taxi, Robin said, “Thanks for sending me Robert’s email.”

  Mary clenched her hands together on her lap. “I couldn’t believe it. When my brother-in-law showed me at the funeral, I nearly collapsed.”

  “I’m sorry for not calling you earlier.”

  Mary turned to face Robin. “Did Smith really kidnap someone?”

  Robin sighed. “Yes, Ms. Brown is fine. But Smith, if that is his actual name, got away with the money.”

  Mary’s face turned hard. “I just want to see him rot in jail.”

  “Me, too.”

  They arrived to the legislature building at nine. After passing through metal detectors at the security screening, they went to the assigned conference room. Arturo met them outside and opened the door for them.

  The FBI was setting up shop there. The room looked like any other government conference space. Beige walls, ugly carpeting. The three folding tables looked like they were an afterthought, the tops were a worn wood-look laminate. The metal-framed padded chairs looked as old as they looked uncomfortable.

  Hard-shelled equipment cases and a maze of cords rested on a table in the far corner.

  A man and woman, both wearing suits, sat at a center table with laptops open. The man rose to greet them first. “Good morning. Senator, I’m Agent Deckman and this is Agent Morris.” He looked at Mary. “You must be Mrs. Taylor. Sorry for your loss.”

  The group got down to business, exchanging information about the development deal, the killings, the kidnapping, and Smith’s escape.

  Deckman said, “We tracked Smith’s phone to Cruz Bay after his escape, but then the signal didn’t appear again, meaning he’s probably ditched it. But he can’t go far. There’s a bulletin issued by Interpol, the coast guard as well. We’ll find him, if not now, then soon. Officer Bell will be our local police liaison on St. John.”

  Mary Taylor asked, “What now? I can’t live in fear forever.”

  Agent Morris looked at her. “We understand. But men like Smith are pragmatists. With untraceable wealth at his disposal, he’s likely setting his sights on South America or a jurisdiction with lax extradition laws. Nothing is certain, but I believe it’s unlikely he’ll bother you again.”

  Mary shook her head. “I hope you’re right.”

  Arturo said, “I’ll escort you home later and the department will patrol your street for the next few days. But I think Agent Morris has a point. Smith is likely long gone.”

  Robin said, “I have another meeting upstairs, but please call me with any updates.” She shook hands with the agents.

  Arturo walked her out to the hall, closing the door behind them.

  “So much for our dinner date,” he said with a lilt.

  With all the commotion of the last few days, she’d forgotten their Friday dinner plans.

  The look in his eyes, like he was unsure of her feelings, was too much to bear. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back Saturday night. Maybe we could have brunch on Sunday?”

  He brightened. “I would love that. How about Lucy’s Kitchen? They have the best stuffed French Toast.”

  She furrowed her brow. “No, wait. Isn’t Sunday Easter? I completely forgot. We’ll never get a table.”

  Arturo grinned. “Lucy’s an old friend of the family. I can get us in.”

  Robin smiled. “Sounds heavenly. See you then.” She stood on her toes and gave him a goodbye kiss on the cheek. Still, sadness washed over her, having to postpone their date. She walked down the hall toward the building lobby, her briefcase and overnight bag in hand.

  A few seconds later, Arturo’s voice called out behind her. “Wait.”

  She stopped and turned.

  He jogged toward her, closing the ten-yard distance. “You forgot something.”

  She searched her memory. Did she leave her phone on the table? She felt for it in her pocket. “What?”

  He took her face in his hands and bent to kiss her. A delicate kiss, like velvet mousse on her lips, making her spine go limp and her heart pound. She dropped both bags and reached for his tall, uniformed shoulders.

  “Wow,” Robin gasped.

  “A good wow?” Arturo asked, stepping back, one eyebrow arched.

  “The best wow.”

  “Good.” Arturo winked, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. He spun on his polished black shoes and strode back into the meeting room.

  A million thoughts and desires ran through her brain. Should she cancel all her meetings? Run away with him to a deserted beach and make out with him in the wet surf? Arturo was a stone-cold fox and an excellent kisser. How could she leave now?

  She blinked and looked around the hallway, noticing her fallen briefcase and overnight bag. No, she had a job and commitments. For now, she would have to be content with daydreaming.

  Robin picked up her bags and shook her head.

  Concentrating on zoning and infrastructure plans in stuffy meeting rooms for the next two days was going to be a living hell.

  ***

  Merv leaned against the post of the pavilion and checked his bank balance on his phone. Overdrawn again. He hadn’t counted on the Boston Celtics losing to the New York Knicks. Who knew their star player would sprain his ankle in the first half? His bookie had already made threats. Something about cutting off his right ear. And he liked his ears.

  Hopefully the iguana would come through. Merv puckered his lips and gave a long whistle.

  Like clockwork, the skanky iguana with its crusty skin appeared, hopping up and down and eyes wild.

  “Get!”

  The animal stared at him.

  With a sigh, Merv reached in his pocket for a goldfish cracker. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, lowering it to the iguana’s level so it could smell the treat. “Get!” he called out again.

  As trained, his partner in crime raced away. He wanted to follow; to see where he went. What amount of treasure had the creature amassed?

  The last item, a woman’s diamond ring, only fetched $500 due to a chip on the side. And he couldn’t use the gold-buying store on St. John anymore, as the owner began asking too many questions.

  On the dark web, he found a better connection. But it required a trip to Puerto Rico, which ate into his profits.

  A man walked up to him wearing swim trunks and too much white zinc oxide sunscreen on his nose. “Ranger? I can’t find my wallet. I had it tucked under my towel. Has anyone turned
it in?”

  “Oh, are you sure you didn’t leave it in your car? We always recommend people leave valuables locked.” Merv pointed to the large wood sign by the entrance.

  “I’m sure I had it. Did you see anyone messing with my stuff?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the reptile waddling toward him with a gold chain in its mouth.

  Merv steered the man to face the opposite direction. With a hand behind his back, he waved at his klepto-friend in a way that meant ‘not now.’

  “Sorry, I can’t police individual belongings. But if anyone turns it in, it will show up at the Visitor Center Office lost and found. I suggest calling there tomorrow.” Merv glanced back quickly, confirming that the iguana had slunk back below the foliage.

  The man’s face turned ashen. He shouted, “But we’re leaving tonight! I had my license in there.”

  Merv frowned. “I wish there was something I could do. Tell you what? I’ll radio the office to keep an eye out for it. What’s your name?”

  After some back and forth, he provided the man’s name and cell phone to Candy at the center. With great reluctance, the man with the white nose sulked away.

  Merv’s thoughts danced with glee. A wallet! He rubbed his hands together. No need for a middle man where cash was concerned.

  Now alone, he whistled again. His buddy approached and dropped the chain at his feet. It was thin and maybe not real gold. Merv sighed. He threw four goldfish on the concrete.

  After the reptile scarfed them down, Merv said, “Get!”

  His friend scampered away on his mission.

  How much longer could he sustain the constant debt and threats of bodily harm?

  Maybe he needed to face his gambling addiction and get help.

  The thought quickly faded, knowing he would lose his job in a heartbeat.

  Merv’s mouth dropped open with a new thought. Perhaps he needed a trained iguana army! One on every beach. He could quadruple the income from his side-hustle.

  Buoyed with this new revelation, he knew his next step.

  And it would involve a shit-load of cheesy puffs.

  ***

  Cudlow loosened his bow tie, facing the gilded mirror at his family’s manor on Grand Bahama. His hair, now quite short, made him look like his late father. He ran his hand across the top. Who was this person? Serious people need serious hair…a line from a movie.