Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue (12 page)

“How much longer is this cold spell going to last?” I
asked, setting the box on his desk.

He helped himself to a donut. “Don’t know. Last year
we had almost ten days when the temperature dipped to
freezing. People had to scramble to keep their mango
groves heated enough to protect the trees”

Detective Billie took a large bite out of his donut.
Then he pulled out a manila folder and flipped it open.
“Tom’s cause of death was drowning.”

“So it was an accident?”

“Not necessarily.”

My nerves tensed.

“Tom also experienced trauma to the back of the
head,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

His dark eyes turned opaque. “Someone hit him with
a blunt object from behind-probably knocked him unconscious. Then he fell overboard and drowned.”

“Do you know what you’re saying? The only other
person on the boat was Kevin-“

“I’m well aware of that” His mouth tightened. “But I
can’t hide from the facts or pretend that this is just an
accident. Someone deliberately caused Tom to drown,
and I have to find out who it was, even if I don’t like it.
That’s my job”

“But Kevin is only a little boy,” I protested.

“I’ll do everything I can to protect him. The night we
picked him up, I went easy on him and asked only a few
questions, but I’ll have to talk to him again-press for
details.”

“I know … but it stinks.”

“Tell me about it.” His voice took on a hard edge. “I
took this job to keep the community safe, not interrogate kids.”

“Actually, I have a theory about Tom’s death-“

“Based on your many years of studying criminal justice.” The edge became even edgier as he cut in.

“Okay, so I don’t have any formal training. But I did
help solve that murder case last summer.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but, as I recall, you were a
suspect at first. Then you meddled in my investigation
and almost got yourself killed by trying to get the murderer to confess”

“If you start splitting hairs, we’re not going to get anywhere.” I set the mug on his desk with undue force.
The liquid spilled over the rim and onto the shiny mahogany finish. “Sorry”

He didn’t make a move to wipe it up. I dabbed at it
with my hand, causing the coffee to drip onto the floor.
Not wanting to make it any worse, I halted my mop-up
attempts. Motormouth and clumsy.

“If you didn’t want to hear my ideas, why did you
ask me to have coffee with you this morning?” Okay,
I’d put it out there. The ball was in his court now.

A half smile turned up one side of his mouth. “Maybe
I wanted to see if your red hair would heat up my office”

The ball was back in my court now, and I doublefaulted. “Has it?”

“Can’t say yet”

I briefly retrieved my mug and gulped down another
swig of coffee. Forget the balls and the courts. I’d never
win at verbal volleys with Detective Billie. One compliment and I turned to mush-or, worse, a motormouth.
“Let’s say for argument’s sake that you’ve been properly
warmed by the sight of my hair. How about letting me
give you my hypothesis?”

He leaned back in his chair. “Okay. Shoot”

“Kevin and Tom were alone in the boat when they
left the marina, right?”

He nodded.

“They anchored off the mangroves in the late afternoon and fished until evening. After five or six hours of
being on the water, Kevin probably fell asleep early. Not long after Kevin was snoozing, someone could’ve
driven up a second boat, come aboard, and knocked Tom
unconscious. Simple, huh?”

“That wouldn’t be my word for your theory”

I leaned forward and propped my elbows on his desk.
“You don’t really think Kevin did it, do you?”

“I don’t want to” He sighed. “But he’s been an angry
boy for the last six months. Mad at his parents, mad
at the other kids at school, mad at the world” He stared
down at his coffee mug. “A couple weeks ago I had to
question him about some vandalism at the island center.
Nothing would stick, but I had my suspicions.”

I refrained from relating what Kevin’s classmate had
told me. No need to add fuel to that fire.

Nick cleared his throat. “I’m going over to Sally Jo’s
house later today to talk to him.”

“Do you mind if I’m present?”

“Yes, I mind. I mind like hell.” His head jerked up. “I
appreciate your help rescuing Kevin, and I gave you the
autopsy results as a thank you, but that doesn’t mean I’m
going to allow you to interfere with my investigation.”

“Kevin’s well-being concerns me. I don’t want to see
him hurt or-“

“Neither do I,” he cut in swiftly. “Which is why it’s
best that you leave the police work to me”

“Let me remind you, you’re supposed to share information with the press, and I’m the sole investigative reporter for the Observer.” I was desperate enough to play
the journalism card.

“I just did. I told you the cause of Tom’s death.”

Damn. He trumped me. Winning games-mental or
physical-was not my forte.

“I’m also Wanda Sue’s friend. I can’t just turn a blind
eye when her grandson might be accused of murder.”

“It’s not a `blind eye’ when you let the police do their
job” He leaned toward me. “A young boy’s future is at
stake, and I can’t let anyone jeopardize the investigation.
It could end up hurting Kevin even more.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind that he’s the
culprit-“

“I didn’t say that”

“Not in so many words.”

He help up his hands. “Why is it we always end up
arguing? Especially when, in this instance, we both want
what’s best for Kevin?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because we each like doing
things our own way.” I sighed. “Still … I thought we
were becoming … friends.”

“Is that what you think we are?”

“Maybe” I straightened, letting my arms stretch
across his desk.

“I don’t feel like kissing my friends when they disagree with me.” His fingers touched mine.

Whoa! Electric shocks fired through my body all the
way to my toes. I snatched my hand back. Little good
it did me. I could still feel the charge in every nerve
ending.

A dark flush spread across his face, and his features shuttered. “But don’t think that means I have any intention of behaving in an unprofessional way. I have my
job to do. People on this island depend on me, and I’m
not about to betray that trust”

The electric aftershocks fizzled out.

“Kevin’s family has already experienced one loss,
and I don’t want to add to their heartache,” he continued.

“Me, either. That’s why I shared my theory with you”
Suddenly I didn’t know where to look. I didn’t want him
to see the disappointment in my eyes.

“Duly noted.”

Oh, great. Now he’s back to Mr. Reserved, by-thebook cop. “Is this about Kevin or the other case-the
one on the reservation?” I inquired gently.

His hands balled into fists. “That case has been over
for years, I can’t go back and fix it.”

“What happened?”

“Why should you care?”

“Call me a glutton for punishment, but I’d like to
know.”

A tiny muscle began working in his jaw. I’d known
Nick Billie long enough to realize, when he clenched his
jaw like that, something big was going on inside him.

“There isn’t much to tell. I was working as a tribal
police officer on the Miccosukee Reservation. I’d been
there a couple of years, covering routine crimes. Petty
theft. Disorderly behavior. Occasional domestic disturbances. Pretty run-of-the-mill stuff. I thought I was
the king of the walk, keeping the reservation free of the type of crime that was everywhere in southern Florida.
Then a boy went missing. The parents seemed really torn
up about it, doing everything they could to help me find
him.” He drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “To make
a long story short, turns out the father had his son doing
drug runs through the Everglades. A dealer got mad and
shot the boy. When his body finally appeared, the father
confessed to everything.”

I shuddered. “How awful”

“Yeah. Turns out a drug ring was operating right under my nose, and I was too conceited to see it. Even
worse, I never did find the drug dealer who killed the
boy” He shook his head in regret. “I couldn’t stay there
after that. I took a job with the Naples police department for a couple of years, then I came here”

“You can’t blame yourself for that boy’s death. How
could you have known-“

“It’s my job to know what’s going on” A fist came
down on the desk-hard. “If I’d been paying more attention to the subtle clues around me, I would’ve found
out about the drug ring. I was stupid, and I made mistakes that cost a young boy his life.”

“Seems like his father was the one to blame”

“He got a jail sentence-eight years. Can you believe that?”

“He should’ve gotten life. I still think you’re taking
responsibility for events that were out of your control”

“I’ll be the judge of that”

I was suddenly torn by conflicting desires. On the one hand, I wanted to put my arms around him in comfort, but on the other I wanted to shake some sense into
him. Not knowing which would be best, I did neither.

He flipped the manila folder shut and, with it, the door
to his past. “I’ll issue press releases at appropriate times
as the case develops”

I stood up. His words clearly signaled dismissal. “I
can’t promise you that I won’t try to find out who killed
Tom Crawford.”

“And I can’t promise you that I won’t lock you up if
you get in my way.”

“Friends?”

He smiled. “Of course”

I set the empty coffee mug on his desk and left.

I drove the short distance to the Observer office, weighing the whole structure of events that had just occurred.
I now knew two things.

Tom Crawford’s death was no accident. And if I was
going to help Wanda Sue, I had to find out who came
aboard that boat and knocked Tom into the water. Whatever tiny doubts I had that Kevin did it, I squashed immediately. That terrified little boy I’d comforted in the
boat cabin couldn’t have hurt his father.

I also had learned why Detective Billie took his job
so seriously: He didn’t want to repeat mistakes from his
past. Just knowing that made him seem more human,
more vulnerable, and more compellingly attractive.

And don’t forget he said he’d like to kiss you.

I started, causing my foot to ram down the gas pedal. It stuck, of course, and I almost plowed into a Volvo
station wagon with a DOG ON BOARD sign. I jammed on
the brakes, and, luckily, they worked. Still, I narrowly
missed rear-ending the vehicle with its slobbering black
Labrador hanging out the passenger window.

I took in a long, calming breath.

Don’t forget: Nick also immediately regretted saying
it. He’d shut down when he realized what he said, just
as I’d pulled back when he touched my hand. I sighed.
Maybe neither of us wanted that kind of pulse-pounding,
heart-stopping, breathless, in-your-face relationship. It
was too messy. Too tempting. Too life-shattering.

Right now keeping my life on track was taking up all
my energy. One wrong move and I’d lose my job. I’d be
Mixed-up Mallie again, roaming the highways, looking
for the bluebird of happiness-and never finding it.

Get a grip. Keep your focus. That had to be my
mantra.

I parked Rusty and strolled into the office. But I
stopped in my tracks when I came face-to-face with the
beady black eyes of Madame Geri’s bird, Marley.

“Mallie, look who showed up” Sandy pointed, quite
unnecessarily, at the island psychic. As if I could overlook
a woman with gray deadlocks wearing a fifties poodle
skirt and cardigan and sporting a parrot on her shoulder.

I leveled an accusatory glance at Sandy, who spread
her palms in an it-wasn’t-me gesture.

“I called Mom,” Jimmy piped up. “I thought you might
be able to use her spiritual guidance.” He and Sandy were seated at her desk, paging through our latest edition of the
Observer.

“I don’t need that kind of help to-“

“You want to find out who killed Tom Crawford?”
Madame Geri asked.

“How do you know he was murdered?”

“Was he murdered?” Jimmy and Sandy blurted simultaneously, heads swiveling toward me.

“Can’t really say” I fastened my glance on Madame
Geri. “Where do you get your info?”

She looked affronted. “The spirit world tells me
what I want to know.”

“If he was murdered, I don’t suppose the spirits told
you who did it,” I inquired, trying not to let sarcasm
creep into my voice.

“Doesn’t work that way. Some things in life have to
be figured out on their own. Then people learn the lessons they’re supposed to”

Somehow I’d known she’d say something like that.

“You can’t mess with fate,” Jimmy added.

“Bad karma” Sandy nodded sagely. “Madame Geri
can help and protect you, Mallie.”

I blinked a couple of times, hoping that I was merely
hallucinating from an overindulgence of donuts and caffeine. No such luck. Madame Geri was still parked next
to my desk, her bird giving me the evil eye.