Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue (17 page)

“On Saturday?”

“He’s there-trust me” I needed him to know that
I might be the killer’s next target.

By the time I pulled up in front of the police station,
I was rethinking my decision to involve Detective Billie. What was I going to tell him? I’d had a threatening
e-mail, and the island psychic spooked me after my encounter with an aggressive motorist last night?

He already thought I was a flake. This would probably confirm his suspicions.

Of course, the presence of Madame Geri as my companion didn’t help things much. But I didn’t know what
else to do with her. I was tempted to ask her to wait in
my truck, but that seemed unfair, considering the nearfreezing temperature.

As we strolled into the station, I caught my reflection in the mirror positioned above the water cooler. I
plumped up my freshly washed curls. Okay, so I hadn’t
taken just a “quick” shower. A little makeup and lip
gloss never did a girl any harm. Or wearing a soft green
sweater that made my red hair shine like a ripe apple.

Vanity, thy name is Mallie.

Detective Billie appeared in the doorway of his office,
arms folded across his broad chest. “Uh-oh, this looks
like trouble. Two women and a bird before ten o’clock.”

“Hello, Nick. How’s life treating you?” Madame
Geri inquired.

“Can’t complain.”

“Mercury goes retrograde in your sign today, so you’re likely to be frustrated. Just wait it out for a few
days…:’

“Thanks for the advice.” One side of his mouth
curved upward, but otherwise he had no visible reaction to her prediction.

“Could I talk to you?” I asked, looking at the coffeemaker with dismal realization. Stone cold empty.
No delicious aroma emanated from it.

“Sorry, the coffeemaker is broken-something electrical burned out after the last pot. But I’ve got a Thermos in my office if you’d like a cup”

“Lead the way”

He gestured for me to come into his office. I looked
at Madame Geri.

“Marley and I will stay here” She seated herself on
the brown leather sofa, settled the parrot on her shoulder, and began to page through a Time magazine from
1999. “I need to catch up on world events.”

I sent up a silent prayer of relief.

Once in Detective Billie’s office, with a lukewarm
cup of coffee in my hands, I found myself staring
across the desk at his deeper-than-a-starless-night eyes.
Everything went blank in my head for a few moments.

“What’s up?”

Get it together, girl. “I wanted to report … uh … an
incident last night.”

“Such as?” A lazy smile appeared on his face. “You
and Madame Geri didn’t get rowdy with some bikers at
the Seafood Shanty, did you?”

“No” I flashed him a mean look.

“Too bad. I was hoping to see you let loose.”

What the heck does that mean? “If I do `let loose,’
you’ll be the first to know.”

He leaned toward me. “I wouldn’t want to have to arrest you”

My heart beat a little fast. Put the brakes on. You’re
getting out of your depth. “I had something more serious to report. Last night, when I was driving back from
Sally Jo’s house-“

The smile faded. “What were you doing there?”

“Wanda Sue asked me to check on her.”

“Did you talk to Kevin?”

I squirmed in my seat but said nothing.

“Mallie, I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to
stay out of this case…

“Kevin and I didn’t talk about the murder-not very
much, anyway. He said he heard a boat engine-“

“I know. Let me handle this investigation.”

“But I think-“

“Don’t” He held up a hand.

“Okay. Okay. That isn’t why I’m here. Well, maybe
it is…. I mean, there was something sort of odd that
occurred while I was at Sally Jo’s house. Maybe you
wouldn’t exactly call it odd. It was sort of unexpected,
I guess. At least I didn’t expect it-“

“Will you come to the point?” he ground out.

“Fine” I raised my chin in defiance. Good old motor mouth. It could always be called on to rev up when I
least wanted it to.

“I’m waiting.” He drummed his fingers on the desk.

“I saw Sally Jo kissing Frank King.”

He sat back and placed his hands on the arms of his
chair. “They’ve been friends for years. Went to high
school together.”

“This wasn’t exactly the kind of kiss I’d give to a
friend. It was very passionate.”

His eyes kindled with interest. “Are you sure that’s
what you saw?”

“My vision is twenty-twenty, thank you very much.”

“Duly noted. Thanks.”

“So what do you think? Is it possible Sally Jo and
Frank were having an affair?” I took in a deep breath.
“That would give Frank motive to kill Tom. He told me
that he couldn’t stand the way Tom treated his wife. If
he loved Sally Jo, he might’ve wanted to get her husband out of the way.”

“Whoa” He held up both hands as if I were a horse
ready to bolt. “There’s no point in rampant speculating.
I deal in facts”

“Is Frank a suspect?”

That muscle began working in his jaw. A sure sign he
was debating whether or not to give me information or
order me out of his office. “He is a suspect, yes.”

“Who else?”

“No comment.”

“Jake Fowler? He’s got a hair-trigger temper and a
mammoth case of resentment over the failure of their
clam farm.”

“You have been busy.” He drilled me with his stare.
“No comment.”

I threw up my hands. “Has anyone ever told you that
you are the most irritating and stubborn man on earth?”

He smiled again-a full-fledged grin. “Has anyone
ever told you that you have hair the color of fire?”

My heart revved again, but I wasn’t sure if it was in
anger or excitement-maybe both. “Many times.”

“Then I guess you don’t need to hear it again.”

Somewhat mollified, I replied, “Compliments are
always appreciated.”

“Consider it given.”

“Well, thanks” I resisted flipping my curls. That
would be too much. “There’s something else. When I
was heading back to the Twin Palms after visiting Sally
Jo’s, I … I … was almost driven off the road”

“What?” He snapped to attention as if he’d been
doused with a bucket of ice cold water. “Give me the
details. And please try to be brief.”

“I’m always brief.”

“Yeah, right.” A short bark of laughter erupted from
him.

I took a long swig of coffee to fortify myself. “Okay,
here’s the story. I was driving along Cypress Road, just
minding my own business-doing the speed limit, I
might add.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think that’s the maximum
speed of your truck, isn’t it?”

I ignored the criticism of Rusty. “This vehicle then
appeared behind me. It came up really fast and close to
my bumper-which, it just so happens, I’d recently replaced.” I grimaced. “Anyway, I thought he was going
to pass. But instead, he rammed the back of Rusty.”

“Rusty?”

“Don’t you remember? That’s the name of my
truck.”

“How could I have forgotten? Go on”

“I tried to pull over a little and then to outrun the other
vehicle, but it rammed me again. Hard. I almost hit my
head on the windshield.”

He looked up again, and I thought I detected a swift
shadow of concern passing across his face. “Were you
hurt?”

I shook my head. “Just shaken up”

“What happened then?”

“I floored it. Of course, as you know, Rusty couldn’t
go any faster.” The image of those glaring headlights
closing in on me filled my mind. My breath came in
short gasps. “He was going to hit me yet again, but a
car appeared in the oncoming lane, and he pulled back.
Then I made a quick turn toward The Mounds and lost
him.”

Detective Billie’s face darkened like angry thunderclouds before a sudden tropical rain. “Could you make
out the vehicle?”

“No. The headlights were too bright. They filled my
rearview mirror. I couldn’t see .. ” I snapped my fingers
as something clicked in my mind. “Wait-it must’ve
been a big truck or one of those SUVs, because the headlights were high off the road, much higher than a car’s.
And Frank King drives a big truck” Was it possible that
he had tried to hurt me?

“So do ninety percent of the men on this island,” he
responded dryly. “Including me.”

“Oh” I sat back, deflated.

“What about the driver?”

“I couldn’t make anyone out” I took in a deep
breath. “Do you think it could’ve been the killer?”

“That’s a possibility.” He rubbed the back of his neck
and leveled a weary glance in my direction. “Anything
else?”

I filled him in on the e-mail from the Salty Surfer.

“It was a warning, and you need to heed it.” His
voice was firm, final. “Stop asking questions about the
murder, and let me handle it”

“But I have a story to write, and-“

“You can do that without snooping around for clues
about the murder. I’m serious, Mallie. What happened
last night should show you that you’re way out of your
league. Tom’s killer might be willing to strike again.”

I swallowed hard but remained silent. I debated
whether or not to tell him about the fishing fly.

“I know how stubborn you can be. But whatever
promise you made to Wanda Sue isn’t worth risking your life for.” A low, compelling note entered his voice.
“Let me do my job”

“What about Kevin? In light of the incident last night,
you’re not still considering him a suspect, are you?”

“Can’t say for sure”

I exhaled in frustration. “What can you tell me?”

“I’m pursuing all possible avenues to solve the crime
quickly.”

“Gee. May I print that?” Sarcasm crackled out of my
mouth like a whip.

“Sure”

I drained the rest of my coffee and stood up. At that
moment I decided not to tell him about the fishing flyright now. I needed some kind of lead for my investigation, and he wasn’t supplying much of anything. The
fly was my only clue.

He rose to his feet. “I promise you’ll have the exclusive story after I make an arrest.”

“That won’t satisfy Anita.” Or me.

“It will have to do”

We stood there, our eyes locked together. I must’ve
been imagining the concern I’d thought I saw in his
eyes a few minutes earlier-and the attraction. He was
simply angry that I’d interfered in his case. Same old
Detective Billie.

“I’ve gotta go” I turned away.

“Mallie, I don’t want you to be hurt-“

I’d already exited his office and slammed the door. At
that point Madame Geri held up the outdated magazine. “Did you know about Monica Lewinsky and President
Clinton?”

“Old news.”

“He should’ve confessed at the beginning.” She tossed
the magazine onto the table and heaved herself off the
sofa. “It’s bad karma to lie. What goes around comes
around”

“Guess so” I held open the door. “We’ve got to see a
man about a fishing fly”

That wasn’t bad karma. I hadn’t made any promises
to Detective Billie. But I had made one to Wanda Sue.
And, by golly, I was going to live up to it.

I had cooled down by the time we pulled up in front
of Frank’s Fish and Bait Shoppe at the Trade Winds Marina. But I was no less determined to find Tom’s killer.
Telling me I couldn’t do something was like waving a
red flag in front of a charging bull. It inflamed me.

During the drive, Madame Geri had been strangely
silent. Ditto for Marley. But after I parked Rusty and
was reaching for her rickety door handle, she placed a
hand on my arm.

“You can’t blame Nick,” she said. “He’s a wolf-“

“Please, no more New Age junk” I jerked open my
door. “Maybe there’s a simpler reason: He’s a control
freak”

“Suit yourself, but I’m rarely wrong.” She shrugged
and took her hand from my arm. “A wolf can’t be
tamed-only subdued, at best”

I grabbed my canvas bag and slid out of Rusty, muttering to myself. Madame Geri really needed a big dose
of reality. And maybe some intensive therapy to boot.

Before she could fill me in on the details of Detective
Billie’s lair, I strode into Frank King’s shop.

My first impression was that I had wandered into a
fisherman’s heaven. Dimly lit, the place was packed with
every conceivable piece of fishing equipment that had
ever been invented. Rods and reels of various sizes and
shapes hung everywhere, suspended from the ceiling by
neon-colored wires. Whole aisles were devoted to an impressive assortment of flies and hooks. Bait buckets, casting nets, and fishing vests occupied one whole wall. I
didn’t know where to look first.

Then I spied the signs-wooden plaques to put on
your boat that expressed charming sentiments such as:
SAIL NAKED or IT’S NOT How DEEP You FISH BUT
How You WRIGGLE THE WORM. Classy.

“Mr. King?”

No answer.

I peered around the fishing vests toward the far end
of the store, where an old-fashioned cash register stood.

He wasn’t there.

I noticed the back door was open, so I moved toward
it. Madame Geri followed close at my heels with Marley on his usual perch.

“Something’s up. I feel odd vibrations,” she said.

“Just keep that bird quiet,” I hissed.

As I approached the door, Frank King suddenly rushed in carrying a small bundle of rags. He halted, redfaced and flustered, when he saw the two of us. “I … I
wasn’t expecting you this early,” he stammered. “You
said you’d be by this afternoon”

“I forgot that I had to cover the fishing tournament
later today.” I tried to make out what was inside the
rags. It looked like a paintbrush.

Frank’s glance moved from me to Madame Geri. His
face took on that reverential look that everyone on the island seemed to adopt the moment they saw her. But there
was something else lurking in his demeanor. A twinge
of apprehension. Maybe psychics made him nervous. Or
maybe he had something to hide.

“I need a few minutes of your time,” I said, craning
my neck to see what he’d been doing behind the store.
The only thing I could make out was his truck parked in
the garage behind the building. “Did I catch you in the
middle of anything?”