Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves (13 page)

“Remember, Bernice’s running the newspaper is only temporary. Once Anita returns, things will get back to normal.”
Relatively speaking, I added to myself. Who would’ve thought
I’d be looking forward to seeing Anita? The woman who
called me “kiddo” and smacked gum in my face. “Speaking
of the devil-I mean, Anita-I talked with her yesterday.”

Sandy perked up, her eyes kindling with hope. “Where is
she? Is she coming back soon?”

“Well, there’s good and bad news. The good: Anita is on
vacation with … Mr. Benton”

“Anita and Mr. Benton? Barf city.” Sandy motioned toward
her open mouth with a finger in a mock gagging motion.

“My sentiments exactly. I guess they must have become …
friendly last year when she finally persuaded him to hire Jimmy
to paint the office. Or maybe it was a long-standing affair.
Who knows?” With great effort, I blocked the image of Anita
and Mr. Benton out of my mind. “More good news: I didn’t
get the impression they’d be gone too long.”

“But what about Bernice?”

“That’s the bad news.” I sighed. “Anita put her in charge,
all right. And Benton must’ve gone along with it. I tried to tell
Anita what was going on, but she didn’t want to hear it. She
said, among other things, that we had to `hang in there.’”

“So we’re on our own with the boss from hell.” Sandy’s
eyes dulled once more with despair.

“Looks like it,” I replied.

“Hey, I’ll get my mom over here,” Jimmy piped up. “She’ll
know what to do”

“Does she have any voodoo dolls?” I asked, imagining a
tiny version of Butthead Bernice that I could attack with a pin.
Nothing fatal. Only enough pinpricks to incapacitate her until
Anita grew tired of her middle-aged tryst with Mr. Benton.

Jimmy stood up, a slight expression of indignation on his
open features. “As if Mom would resort to black magic. You
know her better than that. She’ll do a tarot reading or ask the
spirit world for guidance. And she’ll find some answerstrust me”

“Really?” Sandy clutched his hand.

“Sure” He smiled down at her with adoring eyes.

I refrained from groaning. Adding Madame Geri to the mix
was like pouring gasoline onto a fire. “I’m not sure-“

“About what?” Bernice strode out of her cubicle, another
lollipop in her mouth. Her attire still had the nautical theme,
with an electric-blue striped top, but it was paired with very tight
black leggings, revealing sags and bulges in places where I didn’t
want to go.

“About … uh … some of my interviews for the `Terror on
the Trail’ article.” I shot Jimmy a warning look.

“If you’d get in here at a reasonable hour, you might get
some work done. We’re not running a bank here, Miss Priss.”
She patted the stump. “You need to finish the trail story and
Gina’s obituary. I’m going to run them side by side. That’ll
really spike up the emotion a notch”

“But obituaries run on their own page … separate from the
other stories. We don’t want to seem to be exploiting Gina’s
death just to sell papers” I watched her pat the stump with a
smile of approval.

“Of course we are. That’s the point.” She strolled forward.
“We’re doing reality journalism, and that means every dark
area of life has to be exposed. The naked truth. That’s what I
want. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be true, as long as it’s sleazy.”

I clenched my teeth. “I’ll finish up the trail story this morning. Then I’ll talk to Gina’s fiance and her mother for the obituary. But it’s going to be respectful. After all, she was the
Mango Queen. People on Coral Island aren’t going to want to
see her name dragged through the mud”

“You’ve got a lot to learn about human nature, Miss Priss,”
she informed me in an irritating, know-it-all tone. “The higher
they are, the more readers delight in seeing them taken down
a notch. Why do you think they sell so many tabloids about
actors in rehab or actresses getting caught shoplifting? Get real. There’s nothing that sells papers like seeing how far the mighty
can fall.”

“Maybe so, but this is a hometown island girl, not some
Hollywood bimbette. Gina grew up on Coral Island, and people
loved her.”

“Are you refusing to follow my orders?” Bernice slowly
removed the lollipop from her mouth.

“I am.” I stood firm, not flinching as her wrinkled, leathery
face inched closer to mine.

The office became very quiet. I heard my heart thumping in
my chest like a series of sonic booms. But I wasn’t going to
give in. Bernice could fire me. I knew it, and she knew it. But
I would not let her turn Gina’s death into some tawdry eventnot after seeing the grief of Mama Maria and Rivas. They deserved to have Gina’s memory honored.

All of a sudden, she stepped back. “Okay. I’ll give you the
tasteful obit for next week’s edition of the Observer But after
that, I want a full investigative story for the next edition.” She
scowled at me. “No holds barred”

“Agreed” I managed to swallow the lump in my throat.

“Fine” She threw a T-shirt at me and marched back toward
her cubicle. “Wear it.”

I caught the shirt, not even needing to look at it. So I had to
promote Steve’s Stupendous Stump Removal. Who cared? I’d
finally won a battle with Bernice the Butthead. Yahoo!

Bernice slammed the door.

andy clapped her hands silently, joy lighting her face.
“Mallie, you’re a marvel. How did you find the courage to stand
up to that old bag?”

“I don’t know what got into me” I pulled out my rickety
wooden chair and collapsed into it.

“Sheer chutzpah,” Sandy breathed.

“Spirit energy,” Jimmy added.

“Shameless stupidity.” I took in a couple of deep breaths.

“No, you were heroic.” Sandy reached into her desk drawer
and pulled out a package of cookies, half a dozen minicakes,
and a bag of peanut M&M’s. “And I can be too” She dumped
all the sweets into the trash can.

“Sweetie, I’m so proud of you.” Jimmy planted a kiss on
her cheek.

“Me too.” I smiled, pleased with both Sandy and myself.
“We might be on our own here, but this is our turf. Bernice is
the interloper. What we need to do is get proactive and beat
her at her own game”

“You’re right.” Sandy mulled this over for a few minutes. “Bernice wants new advertisers. But the only ones she seems
to rope in are people she knows from hanging out at the
Seafood Shanty-bait dealers, stump removers, and so on.
What I need to do is find some people who want to advertise
with us who run more … uh … upscale businesses. Attorneys, accountants-that kind of person. Chances are, they
wouldn’t want us to wear T-shirts or deposit a stump in the
middle of the office”

“Yes!” I gave her a thumbs-up. “Brilliant. Call Aunt Lily.
I’m sure she knows some people on the island who don’t
chew tobacco or eat with their fingers who’ll want to advertise
with us”

“Gotcha” Sandy picked up the phone.

“Mallie, that reminds me, I’ve got a message from Mom”
Jimmy scooted his chair toward my desk.

“Oh?” Not a Madame Geri pseudo-prophecy. They had
caused me nothing but trouble in the past.

“She said that since Gina died, the mango balance is off.”
He spoke with solemn gravitas.

“Okay.” I motioned him with my fingers. “Give it to me:
What’s the `mango balance’?”

“The whole aura that surrounds the island and makes it
possible to grow the mangos. You know, our island is worldrenowned for its varieties and quality. There are very few places
that produce the kinds of mangos we have here. But it’s a delicate balance between man and nature” He paused and leaned
forward. “Gina was the Mango Queen, and now she’s dead, so
the balance has been disturbed.”

“Let me get this straight: I not only need to get my aura
cleansed-as per Wanda Sue’s instructions-the whole island
does too?” I gave a laugh of disbelief. “Brandi was the runnerup. I’m sure she’ll take on the duties before the Mango Festival next weekend. Then the balance will be restored.”

“That’s what I said to Mom, but she told me the spirit world
is disturbed. Something is off-kilter.”

“Regarding Gina’s death?”

“I don’t know. She wants you to call her.”

I rubbed my forehead with a weary hand. Stumps. Bernice
the Butthead. Mango balance. Madame Geri. And it wasn’t even
lunchtime yet. “I don’t know, Jimmy. When your mother gets
involved, things have a way-“

“She knew you’d say that” He nodded with a smile. “She
told me to tell you that if you want to know what happened to
Gina, you need to phone her ASAP.”

I frowned. That crazy clairvoyant had a knack for knowing
what I wanted almost before I did. Not that it made her a psychic. She was just … perceptive.

“Do it, Mallie.” Sandy covered the phone receiver with her
hand. “It helped me to keep on the Ozone Diet. Just wanting
to lose weight wasn’t enough. I had to get rid of all that negative energy that kept me diving headfirst into high-caloric foods
and-“

“You lost weight because of pure willpower,” I corrected her.

“Uh-uh. It was the aura-cleansing. Trust me. In fact, after
we get Bernice outta here, I’m going in for another cleansing.” She patted her stomach. “I’ve got to clean out my M&M
cravings.”

“Waving good-bye to Bernice’s backside should do it°” I
cleared my throat in a pointed effort to change the subject.

“Ooops …” Sandy removed her hand and spoke briefly
into the receiver.

“Did Aunt Lily give you any names of potential advertisers?” I asked.

“She wasn’t in. I left a message on her answering machine.”

“Good. She knows everybody on the island. There’s got to be some better potential advertisers than Steve the Stump Remover.”

“About that aura cleansing …” Jimmy began.

“I’ve really got to work on my `Terror on the Trail’ story.”
I swiveled away from him and flipped on the ancient Dell
computer that Sandy and I shared. Unfortunately, the shaky
chair legs creaked from the sudden movement, and one of
the wheels flew off, causing one side to thump down to the
floor.

Jimmy caught the rolling wheel under his foot, picked it up,
and handed it to me. “See? This is what happens when your
aura is cloudy.”

“No” I snatched the wheel from him. “This is what happens when your employer is too cheap to buy decent office
furniture.”

I turned my attention to the computer.

Auras be damned.

After a couple of hours, I sat back, careful not to make too
sudden of a move in my rickety chair. “Not bad,” I murmured
aloud as I scanned the story. No one answered. Sandy and
Jimmy had left for a low-cal lunch at Subway, and Bernice
had exited several hours ago, presumably to knock back a few
beers at the Shanty. Hooray. At least the office was quiet for a
little while.

The phone rang, and I picked up. “Hello?”

No response.

“Hel-LO!”

Heavy breathing greeted me at the other end.

“If you’re the same person who called me at home, I’m not
impressed.” I slammed the received down.

Turning back to the computer, I noticed a tremor in my
hands. Okay, this heavy breather was beginning to spook me a bit. How did the caller know I’d be the one to pick up the
phone at work? Was someone watching me?

Slowly I peered over my shoulder toward the front window.
Only dirty, dingy glass stared back at me. I laughed in nervous relief. Get a grip. Nothing’s going to happen at the Observer office. Too many people around. A deli was located on
one side and a florist on the other. Someone would notice if a
marauder came into the office.

I took in a couple of deep breaths and said my Tae Kwan
Do mantra: “Mugatoni.” Most people chose something Zenlike; I chose something ziti-like. It instantly calmed me-and
made me hanker for a plateful of pasta.

The phone rang again. Chewing on my lower lip, I stared at
it this time. I wouldn’t have to hear the breathing if I didn’t
pick up. But then again, it could be important news. This was
a newspaper, after all.

With a hesitant hand, I picked up the receiver but said
nothing.