He felt around in his pockets then said, “No, ma’am. I must have left my chainsaw in my other pants.” He grinned at his own wit. “Gotta get back to Officer Kal. You ladies okay?”
We waved him off.
After the body-in-the-trunk case, Lizzy had replaced her Jaguar convertible with a vintage Volkswagen Beetle. She sat in her car, feet out the driver’s door.
“Stay right here!” I said.
She rolled her eyes.
I dashed inside the yacht club kitchen and returned with a mooched carving knife. Slipping the knife between her ankle and the strap, I sawed upward, splitting the binding. I handed her the liberated shoe. “These wedgies are going to be the death of you.”
WonderDog sat at my side making little growly noises as if he was lecturing Lizzy.
A question that surprised both Lizzy and me fell out of my mouth. “Why is your father so nasty to you?”
A pinch appeared at the corners of her eyes. “He’s a chauvinist pig in the purest sense of the word. My sister and I have always been an embarrassment to him merely because we’re female.”
“He’s a fool. He should be proud of all you’ve accomplished with your real estate business and now our cold cream venture. I’m amazed that you have such a happy attitude growing up under those conditions.”
“Life is all about choices, isn’t it? I choose to be happy just like I choose to wear wedgies and retro clothes. It’s my life and I’m going do it my way! Which reminds me, I’d better change outfits. I’m all sweat ball thanks to you.”
WonderDog jumped into the Beetle, over her lap and onto the front passenger seat.
I reached out and patted her arm. “This is sissy so forget I said it but—I’m stronger because of our friendship.”
She chuckled. “Just the opposite. You bring out the tiger in me.”
“Well tiger, I’ll meet you at the police station after I clean up.”
“We should get there at the same time. Wonder needs a quick shampoo. He smells worse than you do, and you smell like the dumpster in back of Crabby Nancy’s Fried Fish restaurant.”
She started her engine. WonderDog jumped from the front to the back rubbing his soggy belly on the seat.
“Nancy’s going to be as mad as a trapped alligator when the police force her into a lineup.” She closed her car door and pulled out of the parking lot with a wicked grin on her face.
I was in and out of the yacht club kitchen zip-zap. I returned the knife and the chef gave me an oversized towel to cover the driver’s seat. I drove home with the windows open hoping not to permanently aromatize my fairly new car.
At ten o’clock—after a record-setting shower, hair wash, blow dry, makeup application, and dressing ritual—I neared the Starfish Cove Police Station. My phone rang. “All the suspects are here complete with eyeballs. How far away are you?” Kal asked.
“Almost there.”
“Don’t come to the station. I don’t want anyone in the lineup to give you the evil eye or vice-versa. Drive into the gym lot connected to our parking lot. Come into the back door labeled private. Don’t worry about Lizzy. She and WonderDog are hidden.”
Joe’s Gym had once been a convenience store and still bore some of the old markings. It was probably the oldest structure in Starfish Cove. A battered sign on the roadside of the building read Ladies’ Days – Sunday, Monday only.
Kal escorted me into Joe Carbone’s cheesy office. A security camera hung in a bracket above a cluttered desk. Robbie was visible on the screen. He stood in the fog of a small steam room. He held his left index finger against his ear and spoke into his shirt collar.
“We could use the security camera but it’s too grainy. Let’s get you in position,” Kal said. He led me out of the office into a smelly hall and up to a portal that looked into the steam room. “Joe temporarily replaced the safety window with this one-way glass. He tweaked the jets so Robbie can raise and lower the amount of steam.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and then ran his hand through his hair.
“It fits our purposes for the lineup but be careful this little piece of glass is thin—we can hear them so they can hear us.”
Kal and his friend Joe had gone through a lot of preparation even though we weren’t certain the eyeballs belonged to the killer.
“Because of the cramped space Robbie will bring the suspects toward the glass one at a time. We should be able to duplicate the foggy conditions on Sunday. But please, no hasty judgments.”
“Excuse me! You’re speaking to a professional. I’ve made a career of reading people and their eyeballs. I’m not known for hasty judgments.”
“Two plunges into the marina in less than a week count as hasty judgments.”
Unable to form a sarcastic comeback, I remembered the scratches. “Just a reminder—I may have scratched my attacker at The Billows. Can Robbie ask them to press their hands against the window so I can get a good look?”
Kal spoke into the mike and Robbie nodded.
The eyeball lineup began.
Chapter 18
Kal pointed at me and spoke into his collar “Number one!”
A silhouetted form entered the room. In four steps she had approached the glass.
“Poshookly!” Jaimie reached up and drew a smiley face in the sweat on the window.
“I know you’re there, Olive Peroni! I can see you!” She pressed her nose to the one- way glass and peered right and then left.
“Are you sure she can’t see me?” I whispered.
Kal spoke into his collar. “Robbie! Can you see us?”
Robbie studied the glass but not before Jaimie caught him at it.
“I knew it!” Jaimie yelped. “Gotcha! This is one-way glass. I don’t need to see you, Olive. Who else would be looking at a lineup? I’m no killer. Now let me out of this chorus line before I really start to kick-step. I have places to go and people to meet.”
I shook my head. “She out-guessed us. It’s not her. I would’ve recognized her when it happened.”
“Mrs. Toast is excused.” Kal spoke into his collar.
She stuck her tongue out at Robbie as she held her fingers against the glass. Jaimie being Jaimie, she managed to turn a simple request to show her hands into an obscene gesture.
Kal told Robbie to bring in number two. The room filled with more steam and another pair of eyeballs floated into view like the answer in a Magic Eight Ball.
Chip looked shell-shocked. He peered into the glass as steam swirled around his eyes. He placed his hands on the window and waited.
“You can leave,” Robbie said, his words seemed to startle Chip.
The eyeballs rolled on. Mine threatened to roll out of my head. I’d never be able to look at a jar of pickled onions again.
“I’ve seen a lot more eyeballs than were on the boats that day. Who are all these people?”
“We brought in everybody on the docks around the time of the murder which includes the dockmaster and dockhands and a few other people hanging around their yachts.”
“You hired extras from a casting company, too—right?” I couldn’t keep the irritation from my words.
“This is tedious but we have to be sure of your identification. We’ll be finished soon.”
With my arms crossed over my chest, I continued to play ophthalmologist. I was certain to have nightmares when this was over. It was like a cheap horror movie—The Steam Room has a Thousand Eyes.
A short figure entered the foggy room and padded straight toward the window. He pressed his face against the glass. It couldn’t be.
“Myron, what are you doing here?”
“My little shiksa! What are you doing here?”
“Did they call you into this lineup?”
“Would you believe I’m a technical advisor?”
“No.”
“Eh. It was worth a try. This is a small town with big mouths. I hadn’t even unpacked when I heard the cops were holding a lineup—the cold cream gals wer
e in trouble. So I drove over and got in line!”
He turned profile. “Recognize me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You need any help back there? I got lots of experience on both sides of the glass.”
My favorite patient was back in town.
“Just meet me at Sandy Shores Towers. We’ll have lunch together.”
“Delivery pizza? From Sal’s?”
“Deal.”
“If anybody’s leaning on you just let me know.” The maybe mobster still managed to sound tough although his thug days were long behind him.
Myron turned and patted the air as if to be certain there was nothing in his way. He disappeared into the mist with the same camel-pad stride.
I held my hand up to Kal. “Don’t ask me about my clients. What happens in the steam room stays in the steam room.”
The door opened long enough for some fog to escape—the air cleared temporarily. Nancy Nemo stumbled in held by Chief Miranda. She tore from his grip using a furious one-two twist. The Chief closed the door and frog-marched her to the viewing window.
Nancy resisted his instructions at first and then finally put her nose to the glass.
Kal called out a number for her.
I watched the smoke play over Nancy’s eyes. Despite my expectations they were not the right eyeballs.
With each person who entered my hopes soared, only to be dashed.
“Number thirteen!” Kal called.
The steam grew thick making the room appear claustrophobic. Grayson Cod emerged from the fog and stood at the glass. His orbs fit the description I had given Kal, but now in this pea soup, I couldn’t say for certain. I gave Grayson one more penetrating look and then shook my head. Kal spoke into his collar.
Maybe this was the wrong way to go about unveiling the killer. The person who left me dangling wasn’t necessarily the stabber—just a bad Samaritan. This might be a waste of time.
Once again as the door opened the steam swished out. Joe’s Gym needed to update their equipment. This place was falling to pieces.
“Number fourteen!”
As Kal called out the next number a car alarm went off. It bore a unique sound.
“Someone is messing with Lizzy’s car!” I grabbed Kal’s arm. “She might be in trouble!”
At that moment the Angels squeezed into the un-steamed steam room. Kathy clung to her brother’s arm. Sonny looked like he stepped from a Scorsese film.
“Robbie, tell the Angels to stand at the glass—separately.” Kal spoke into his collar. The door banged shut as he left the viewing area to check on Lizzy.
Sonny Angel strode to the glass. Kathy hung on to her brother’s arm despite Robbie’s directions to separate. “Does my sister need a lawyer? If not, I’ll hold her hand during this eyeball thing.”
I found it hard to concentrate with the car alarm blaring.
Kathy’s eyes were familiar to me. Her pale blue orbs were the right color and the fog completed the picture. The more I considered her the more I doubted myself. I was over eyeballed.
Sonny Angel tugged his sister away from the glass and plastered his face where he was sure to be seen. I hadn’t really taken a good look at him before. All I knew of him was what Kathy told me. He’d come from Detroit to help her with The Billows.
Whereas his sister’s eyes were light, Sonny’s were abnormally dark.
“Anything with the Angels?” Kal said, returning to my side.
“No. Send them on their way. I’m exhausted and discouraged. Was that Lizzy’s car alarm?”
“She’s outside with Dave checking her car. Pretty nervy to mess with it seeing how she parked under our noses.”
Kal looked in the steam room window. “We’re almost finished. Your Aunt Tillie flat out refused to participate. She called a lawyer.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Antoine LePew is number sixteen. He’s the last one. I’ll escort you home or would you rather go directly to your shop?”
I looked at my watch. “It’s almost one. I’m hungry. I’ll see what Lizzy wants to do.”
“Sixteen!” Kal announced.
Antoine appeared at the glass. He put his hands up on either side of his face, flipping them palms to tops. The eyes that peered at me through the steam were dark and devious. The guy was guilty of something—more likely to do with my Aunt Tillie and not in a romantic way.
“Nope. Not him.” I dusted my hands one against the other to signal I was finished.
“I’ll be in the station,” Kal said. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
I slipped out the door and met Lizzy, WonderDog, and Dave in the parking lot standing next to her Beetle.
Lizzy wore a rose-colored jersey with bellbottomed trousers. She’d clipped her hair back in two fake gardenia barrettes.
“Did someone try to steal your car?” I ran my hand over the rear bumper of her buggy.
“Looks like just a short in the alarm.” Dave acted like a nightclub bouncer, his muscular arms poised, ready to swing. He’d passed the steam room inspection somewhere in the first hour but hung around for Lizzy’s sake.
“I’m headed back to the restaurant,” he said. “I’ll call you later.” Dave kissed Lizzy on the top of her head.
“Not to worry. I’m armed.” She whipped out an industrial size can of hairspray from her purse.
Dave shook his head in disgust and pulled away in his pickup truck.
“How about joining Myron and me for a quick lunch at my place?” I asked.
“I am starving, but what about the shop?” Lizzy opened the car door and signaled WonderDog to jump in.
“This week has been a mess—might as well just mark it off our calendar. We can be at the store by three. We’ll stay open till five. It is what it is.”
“Okay. After lunch I’ll pick up Heather and bring her to the shop. I saw Myron. Don’t let her know he’s in town. She’ll pester him for more poker lessons.”
Chapter 19
I went into the station to tell Kal I was ready to leave. He was leaning in the doorway of a small room off the reception area, watching a technician take Nancy Nemo’s fingerprints. He waved me off. Private police stuff.
The horrid orange plastic chairs were lined up just like the time I’d answered Lizzy’s emergency call when she was arrested for stealing her own car. Settling into one of the spine-torturing chairs I waited for Kal.
Nancy’s gruff voice cut the air. “I’ve got a restaurant to run! It’s lunchtime. You’re treating me like a criminal because the dork in the next boat was bumped off? I want a lawyer! And I’m going to sue you and this town for this…this… indignity!”
If her prints didn’t match those on the murder weapon, I’d eat my hat. Not that I had a chewable chapeau.
My list of suspects wasn’t that long. If not Nancy, then who?
Time was ticking away. Myron and Lizzy would be waiting. I peeled myself from the ergonomically incorrect chair and walked to the reception counter intending to leave a note.
Kal turned to me and motioned to step outside. We walked to my car before he said, “Nancy’s prints don’t match those on the knife. She has weird swirls—instantly distinguishable.”
What’s the best sauce to accompany the eating of a hat? I was certainly certain or at least pretty positive Nancy was the killer.
“The medical examiner confirmed through DNA analysis that the knife is the murder weapon. Brent’s are the only identifiable prints on it. The others are smeared. Not unexpected. It’s a minor miracle that any prints survived the knife’s handling.”
“If I were a full-time paid officer of the law I would re-examine Nancy’s boat.”
Kal gave me the squint eye.
“If the knife matches the gouge in the hull…”
The squint turned into deer-in-the-headlights.
“Don’t tell me the forensic team missed the damage to the bulkhead right next to the small storage compartment?” I shook my head in disbelief. “It’s
a new boat.”
“This is the first I’m hearing of it.” Kal turned the color of a semi-ripe tomato—kind of a greenish-red.
“Brent could’ve boarded the Very Crabby intent on doing damage. Maybe even sink the sailboat. Childish—but it might have been some sort of revenge thing. Nancy caught him and stabbed him.” I tried to wipe the smug expression off my face. It wouldn’t budge.
I unlocked my car and slipped behind the wheel trying to ignore the swampy smell. “Since I’m now an unofficial investigator again, I’ll give Nancy a day to calm down then try to find the source of the bad blood between her and Brent.”
Kal followed me to Sandy Shores Towers in the marked police car. He rolled down his window. “The forensic people are meeting me at Nancy’s boat. Heads are about to roll for their slip up.”
Too tired to hike the stairs, I pressed the button to the second floor and watched the elevator door creak shut.
How did you spend your day Olive? Well…my life was saved by a very hairy dog, and then saved again by an ancient mariner. I stared at an army of eyeballs and now I’m about to share a pizza with a maybe-mobster. I hope Myron remembered the pepperoni.
Chapter 20
When I exited the elevator, I heard voices coming from my apartment. The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open. The aroma of pizza engulfed me.
Seeing all their smiling faces was like coming home to family. Myron and Ivy sat side by side on the sofa. I could have sworn she returned my door key. Maybe Myron picked the lock.
Puff perched on WonderDog’s head nibbling on his ears. Neither pet rushed to rub or slobber over me. It seemed my rank in the animal kingdom slipped when I was not in need of saving or affection.
Lizzy rattled plates in the kitchen. “Come and get your pizza while it’s hot!”
A quick hand wash at the kitchen sink and I took my place at the table across from Myron and Ivy. Nothing makes me hungrier than evaluating eyeballs—or almost drowning.
Smokey Eyes Page 8
