Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue (11 page)

She turned away and stirred the instant cocoa with
vigorous strokes. Then she held out two mugs. “Help
me find out what happened on that boat. Kevin’s future
could be at stake. We need you, Mallie.”

“I’ll try.” I took the mugs from her and carried them
into the living room.

By the time I arrived at my Tae Kwon Do class that
night, I was regretting my hasty agreement to help Wanda
Sue. As Kevin’s doting grandmother, she couldn’t conceive that the boy might be capable of harming his own
father. But if he’d been troubled by his parents’ separation, he might’ve attacked Tom in a fit of rage. Younger
kids than he had done similar crimes, so it wasn’t out of
the realm of possibility.

I parked Rusty outside the fitness center and climbed
out. The wind had died down as evening set in, but now
a biting chill was blanketing the island. I hurried inside,
clutching my tattered gym bag.

“Mallie, good to see you.” Sam held out his right
hand and bowed. I did the same, and we shook hands. It
still felt weird to greet someone this way, but I tried my
best to conform to Tae Kwon Do etiquette.

Several members of the class waved. The Jordan
twins ignored me.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here tonight after your recent adventure,” he said.

I tossed my gym bag to the floor. “Which one? Helping to rescue Kevin or making a fool of myself by pitching the bow line overboard?”

He smiled gently. “You’re too hard on yourself. Everyone admires how much courage it took for you to go out
on those rough seas yesterday when you’d never been on
a boat before”

“Thanks” I took a deep breath and unzipped my gym
bag. I’d bought this item at my usual consignment shop,
and, even though it wasn’t too old, it had a perennial
smell of sweaty socks.

I grabbed my white belt and closed the bag again before I had to exhale.

“Do they know how Tom died?” Sam asked.

“Not yet” I wound the belt around my waist twice
and attempted the correct knot formation. After two tries,
Sam stepped toward me and, in one deft motion, executed a perfect knot.

“We’ll talk after class. For now, try to empty your
mind of everything that happened during the day. Focus on what we’re going to do tonight.”

“Fat chance.”

He adjusted his own black belt. “That’s because
you’re not used to being in the present. Ruminating is
pointless-and it causes you to age.” He pointed at his
bald head. “I used to have thick, lustrous hair.”

I laughed as I scraped back my curls and fastened
them with an elastic band. “But pointless ruminating is one of my specialties. I’m not called Mixed-up Mallie
for nothing.”

“You underestimate yourself”

“That’s another one of my specialties.” In spite of my
distracted state, the hour flew by, and the next thing I
knew, we were bowing out of class. I stayed after everyone had left-except the Jordan twins.

I needed to talk to Sam. I needed a big dose of his
wisdom. At the very least, I needed a mild sip of intelligent encouragement.

“Nice job,” Sam said as he wiped his face with a
towel. “You’ll be ready to test for your yellow tip soon”

A tiny flicker of delight lit inside of me. “You mean
I’ll actually get some color in my white belt?”

“Absolutely”

“I can hardly wait.” I unwound my belt and tossed it
into the gym bag, holding my breath for the short,
stinky interval during which it was unzipped. “At least
I’m making some kind of measurable progress in Tae
Kwon Do”

Sam removed his belt, folding it with careful, deliberate motions. “And you’re not elsewhere?”

“I’ve been at the newspaper for almost six months,
and Anita still treats me like a cub reporter, checking
every story and rewriting almost every sentence. Can
you believe that?”

“She’s a stickler for a well-written article.”

“Actually, I think she likes to stick it to me, period.”

He laughed. “For a comparative literature major,
you’re got some colorful expressions.” He tilted his balding head back and regarded me with a speculative gaze.
“What’s really bothering you?”

“How is it that you know me so well after only a few
months?”

“I pay attention.” A brief smile flitted over his face.
“And there’s always the island grapevine to fill in the
gaps”

“It’s this whole thing with Kevin’s dad…. I sort of
promised Wanda Sue I’d help find out what happened to
Tom. But I’m concerned that the truth might end up
implicating Kevin, and that would devastate her.” I pulled
the elastic band out of my hair and fluffed my curls.
“Wanda Sue is counting on me, and that’s such a..

“Huge responsibility?” Calm understanding shone
from his gray eyes.

“Yes,” I said in a rush of relief. “I’ve never been the
kind of person others could count on. It always seemed
so … confining to meet people’s expectations. All my
adult life I’ve only had myself to look out for-“

“And to let down.”

“Huh?”

“It’s simple, really. If you don’t have to meet others’
expectations, you also avoid their disappointment when
you don’t live up to their version of how you should behave. You keep the world at arm’s length. No demands,
no close ties. That’s comfortable. But it’s also lonely. At
some point you need to allow people to depend on you”

“What if I mess up?”

“If they care about you, they’ll understand”

I chewed on my lower lip. “I mess up a lot, Sam”

“Who doesn’t?” He put a hand on my shoulder.
“You’ve told me that you wanted to put down roots here,
be a part of the island community. This is what it’s all
about. You’ve got to let people depend on you-and allow yourself to depend on them”

“It’s scary”

“Of course” He dropped his hand. “It’s unsettlinglike when you first started Tae Kwon Do. Remember
when you couldn’t do even twenty jumping jacks without being winded? Now you can do fifty with only slight
panting. That’s how we grow and develop-a little at a
time. You just need to steer clear of limber teenagers”
He motioned with his head toward the Jordan sisters,
who were competing with each other on who could do
the highest jump kick. “They make you want to run and
hide.”

“You can say that again.” I laughed. “What do you
think the truth is behind Tom’s death? From what I’ve
been able to gather, the only enemy he had was Jake
Fowler-his ex-business partner. Jake held Tom responsible for their bankrupt clam farm. Anita always says,
`Follow the money,’ and in this instance, it may or may
not be true”

He paused. “If he was murdered, and I say `if,’ there
might be other reasons besides money.”

“Such as?”

“Passion, lust, anger, jealousy, hatred” He swung
his attention back to me. “They’re all deep emotionsstrong enough to cause a person to take another’s life.”

I swallowed hard. Those were the very emotions I’d
spent most of my life avoiding. I kept things light in all
my relationships, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to delve
that deeply into the darker regions of the human soul.
Too murky.

“You’ve found out who hated Tom. Now find out
who loved him. There might be motivation for murder
in either.”

Sam packed up his sparring gear and ushered the Jordan sisters and me out. After he locked up, we left the
fitness center without exchanging another word. A clear,
starry night had set in-the kind that promised even
colder temperatures by morning, maybe even a hard
freeze. I drove back to the Twin Palms at Mango Bay
and was happy to be greeted by Kong at the door of my
Airstream.

Things were so much easier with a dog, so much simpler. In fact, I preferred my teacup poodle to almost any
person. I provided him with food, exercise, and love, and
he was happy. Ours was a perfect relationship. So why
did I want more?

The empty silence of my Airstream answered me.

The next morning I was awakened once again by the
shrill ring of my cheapie deluxe telephone. I groaned
as I fumbled for the receiver. Two parental calls in two
days? What had I done to deserve such cruel and unusual punishment?

“Hello?” I drew out the last syllable to convey my
irritation.

“This is Nick Billie.”

My eyes flew open. Yahoo!

“Did I wake you?”

“Oh, no. I’ve been up for an hour.” I peeped at my
alarm clock: 7:00 A.M. It was theoretically possible that
I could’ve been awake that early. Of course, if he knew
me better, he’d realize the actual possibility of that happening was zilch. “I had to take Kong for his walk, make coffee, straighten up my Airstream. You know, morning is the most important time of day. I like to use it to
plan my articles. That way, when I get to the Observer,
I’m ready to hit the keyboard and run with it. Now, if
I had a laptop here, I’d probably get even more done
at home, but the newspaper isn’t about to fork out that
kind of money. Not with getting the office painted
and-“

“Okay, okay. I get the picture,” he cut in, impatience
threaded through his voice.

I resisted the urge to place a pillow over my face and
suffocate my motormouth. Why, oh, why did it always
kick in at the most inopportune moments?

“I thought you might like to swing by the station on
your way to work-that is, if you can interrupt your
creative marathon.”

“What’s up?”

“I’ve got Tom’s autopsy results.”

“And you’re willing to share them with me?” I sat
up, glad he couldn’t see the loopy smile that spread
across my face.

“Consider it payback for helping me rescue Kevin.”

“Even after the rope incident?”

He chuckled.

“Is the coffee on?” I asked.

“Made it myself.”

“I’ll pick up the donuts on the way.”

“That’s a myth, you know,” he said.

“What?”

“That police officers spend their mornings hanging
out at donut shops, stuffing their faces.”

“I got you. I’ll make it a dozen of the glazed”

“Good.” He hung up.

Slowly I replaced the receiver. Morning coffee with
Detective Billie. Now, that’s what I deemed a wake-up
call.

Kong barked and scratched at the front door. Okay,
first things first. I threw back the covers and hopped out
of bed, a spring to my step.

However, first contact with the cold parquet floor
brought me back to reality. I padded to the large window at the front of my Airstream and rubbed at the iceencrusted glass.

Frost blanketed every leaf of foliage outside. The
palm trees looked as though the fronds had been dipped
in white chocolate.

“Are you sure you want to go out?” I asked my poodle.

He clawed at the aluminum door again.

“All right.” I donned my Windbreaker over my flannel pajamas and slipped into my running shoes. Then I
wrapped an old woolen scarf around my head. Fashion
conscience, be damned. This was survival.

I fastened the leash to Kong’s collar and led him out
of the Airstream.

Teeth chattering, I decided against heading for Kong’s
nemesis-the beach. No need to drag out this painful operation. We sped over to a clump of bougainvillea bushes,
where he did his thing.

I took advantage of the time by spying on my neighbors in the behemoth RV. Everything was quiet. Blast
it. If I had to be up this early, why shouldn’t they?

I scanned their site. Nothing new. Awning still up,
picnic table still unused. Except … My glance sharpened. A cherry red Ford Escort rental car stood parked
to one side. I didn’t remember seeing that vehicle before. It seemed kinda low end for a famous couple, but
maybe that was part of the whole incognito thing.

Very interesting. If they were exploring the area in a
rental with Florida plates, it meant they’d probably be
here for a few more days at least. I still had time to find
out their identities.

I vowed to keep an eye out for the Ford Escort as I
drove around the island.

An hour later, I pulled Rusty into a parking space
outside the police station. Checking my appearance in
the rearview mirror one more time, I tucked a stray red
curl behind my ear and removed the lipstick streaks
that had smudged my front teeth.

Okay, so I’d put on a little makeup and washed my
curls in Kong’s favorite country-apple shampoo. Nothing wrong with sprucing up. Or putting on a pair of neatly
pressed jeans and cream colored V-neck sweater. Nothing wrong at all.

I couldn’t wear jeans every day.

As I let myself into the police station, I noticed that the receptionist’s desk was empty, but, true to his word,
Detective Billie had a pot of my favorite caffeinated
beverage brewing.

“Hi” He stood in the doorway of his office, looking
dark and handsome and dangerous. Dark and handsome
for obvious reasons. Dangerous because he made my
legs wobble every time I saw him.

“Hi, yourself.” I held up the box of donuts.

He grinned. “Grab yourself a cup of coffee, and come
on back”

I filled a mug with the steaming black liquid, inhaled the caffeine fumes a few times, and strolled into
his office.