Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves (24 page)

“Shut up.”

“Okay” I bit my lip. Not the time for the motormouth to
kick in. It seemed to irritate most people-especially those on
the verge of admitting to murder. “I’ll just put these away.” I
placed the mango samples into my canvas bag, along with the
cell phone-but not before I’d surreptitiously punched Nick
Billie’s speed-dial number again. “How did you know I’d be
here?”

“I heard Isabel call you about the messy desk. I figured some thing was up, so I drove to the Observer and followed you from
there to Mama Maria’s and, finally, here,” he explained in a
smug voice. “You know, my storage closet at Finch and Harris
is right next to Island Decor’s stockroom, so I can hear everything that goes on in there through the ventilation system. It’s
been mildly interesting over the last few years” He still hadn’t
made a move in my direction. “I thought I’d gotten rid of all
the evidence when I stole the invoice and wiped Gina’s hard
drive clean. Sadly, I was mistaken.”

“Why did you do it, HOMER?” I said in a loud voice, hoping Nick could hear on the other end of the cell phone.

“I’m not a thief. I came here to try to tell my side.” Homer
spread his arms in appeal. “I knew if anyone found that invoice, they might question my integrity-and Gina’s rightful
title as Mango Queen. That poor, sweet girl. She had so much
life ahead of her.”

“You regret what happened. I know. And the police will
take that into account, I’m sure” I cleared my throat audibly.
“But you didn’t answer my question. WHY DID YOU KILL
GINA?”

“What are you saying?” His features became more pinched.
“I didn’t kill her.”

“YES, YOU DID”

“No, I didn’t.”

“THEN WHY DID YOU STEAL THE INVOICE?”

“Because I thought someone might think I rigged the Mango
Queen pageant. Gina paid me a hundred and fifty dollars the
day after she became the queen-that would look suspicious
to anyone. But she won fair and square. Gina deserved to be
Mango Queen.”

I blinked back my puzzlement. “WHAT IS THE INVOICE
FOR?”

“Why are you shouting? I’m standing right here.”

“Oh, sorry. I … do that when I get nervous. I talk a lotand loudly.”

“The invoice was for her pre-nup”

“Huh?”

“She hired me to write up a prenuptial contract for her marriage to Brett Palmer,” he explained. “That’s why I met her
the day she died. She wanted to pay me for the legal work.”

“That’s it?”

“‘Fraid so.”

I stared at him, still confused. “What about the pesticide?”

He shook his head. “You’ve lost me there.”

“You know Gina was diabetic?”

“Yes, that’s what killed her.”

I drilled him with my stare. “No, she died because of a
toxic pesticide someone put into her insulin syringe.”

His mouth dropped open. “But … but … I thought she
died from diabetes complications. Sure, I heard some rumors
around the island, but I didn’t believe them. I mean, who
could’ve harmed Gina-” He broke off, an expression of horror crossing his face. “You don’t think that I would’ve done
something like that?”

“You met her here the morning she died. And the pesticide
they found in her body was the brand used on mango treeslike the kind I found back there in a cupboard.” I pointed in
the direction of the bathroom.

“It wasn’t me, I swear!” he cried out.

“ARE YOU SAYING YOU DIDN’T KILL GINA,
HOMER?” I tilted my face toward the canvas bag, just to make
certain it got through on the cell phone.

“I’m not deaf, you idiot.”

“Oh, sorry” I checked the window, but no sign of Nick Billie yet. “Why don’t you turn yourself in?”

“I told you, I didn’t kill Gina.” His voice took on a note of anguish as he slumped into a chair and dropped his head into
his hands. “Oh, God. I never dreamed that she could harm
Gina-“

“Who are you taking about? Do you know who did it? Are
you protecting someone?”

His head shot up.

Pay dirt.

“Homer, if you know anything, you need to tell me,” I urged.
“Rivas Fernandez was taken in for questioning this morning.
You can’t let an innocent man take the rap for a crime he didn’t
commit.” I knelt down next to him. “Was there someone else
here the morning you met Gina?”

“Maybe”

“Who? WHO ELSE WAS HERE WHEN YOU MET
GINA?”

Homer began to whimper.

“Jeez, I’ve heard enough of this crap,” Trish Palmer said in
a disgusted tone as she strolled into the room from the rear
door. She leveled a gun at me, throwing a momentary glance
of derision in Homer’s direction. “You gutless weasel.”

I straightened, my legs slightly unsteady. Her eyes glittered
with a hard, unbalanced edge-the kind of look I used to get
from half-crazed parents who’d dragged their kids around
Disney World all day and were ready to take out Mickey Mouse
at any cost. I was in deep trouble.

“TRISH PALMER. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
Sweat broke out across my forehead. “WHY DO YOU HAVE
THAT GUN?”

“Pipe down”

Homer whimpered more loudly.

“Why did you do it, Trish?” I asked quietly. “Because of
Brett?”

“Pffft. She could have Brett. He never would’ve made sen ator. He’s too damn nice.” She ground out the last word as if it
were a vicious insult. “I killed her because she could ruin us.
She’d found out that it was her grandfather who developed
Palmer’s Pride-“

“And was swindled out of its big profits” I checked the
window again. Still no sign of Nick. Where was he? “How
much money are we talking about?”

“More than you could imagine.” Her carefully outlined lips
curled. “I was trailer trash just like you when I married into
the Palmer family. I wanted all the things Bryan could give
me: the money, the mansion, the jewels. And I don’t intend to
give them up. When I saw a copy of the pre-nup in Homer’s
office, I realized Gina was a threat to my little world, and I
wasn’t about to let her bring it down. Bryan didn’t know, of
course. Not about Alberto’s patent for Palmer’s Pride or Gina’s
pre-nup stating that she would receive all the mango profits if
she and Brett divorced.” Her voice took on a hard edge. “I
knew Brett was besotted enough to sign that thing, so I had to
get rid of her before he had a chance to see it.”

“You’re nuts” I glared at her, still smarting from being
called “trailer trash”

“It’s all my fault,” Homer whined. “I should’ve never told
you about that pre-nup”

“Darn right, and you also shouldn’t have told me that you
had an appointment right here with Gina early that morningand allowed me to come with you,” she added with a sly smile.
“After you left, she and I had a pleasant conversation about
Alberto’s patent-and the `mix-up’ all those years ago. She
didn’t buy it. So, when she was on her cell phone, I put the
pesticide into her syringe. It was surprisingly easy.”

“Damn you,” Homer said in a weak voice.

“I think that’s a given,” I muttered, taking a quick inventory for possible weapons. Nothing was within arm’s reach.
“WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, TRISH? KILL US BOTH?”

“Stop shouting, you moron.” She produced a sheet of stationery with Finch & Harris’ letterhead. “What a shame Homer
felt so desperate about being discovered as Gina’s killer that he
had to shoot you and then himself. Not to worry. He sets it
all out in this suicide note.” She waved the paper. “Oh, and I also
took the other pre-nup copies out of your files.”

“You’ll never get away with it,” I said with more bravado than
I was feeling.

“Oh, yes, I will. And it’s your own fault for meddling. I
tried to scare you off with the phone calls and the slashed
picture, but you wouldn’t back off.”

“It’s my job. Bernice made me do it.” Okay, that was lame,
but I was growing desperate. I inched back from Homer, finding nothing but a crate of very ripe mangos at my fingertips.

“Too bad” She pointed the gun at Homer. “All right. You
first, nitwit.”

He jumped to his feet. “You think you’re so smart. I already
sent a copy of the pre-nup to Brett. He’s probably looking at it
right now.”

“You didn’t!” Her face contorted with rage.

“Yes, I did!”

Trish lost it. She lunged at him.

I instantly sprang into action, grabbing a couple of mangos.
I flung them at her, and they splattered all over her white silk
pantsuit. She was so startled at the sight of mango goop, she
dropped the gun.

Now it was my turn to lunge. I grasped a few more mangos
and smashed them into her chest. She went down, with me on
top of her. “HOMER, PICK UP THE GUN!”

Trish cursed me and ground a stray mango into my face. I sputtered but held my position. Her arms and legs were flailing,
and she tried to claw at my face. I spit out the pulp and rammed
a big Palmer’s Pride into her eyes.

She yelped.

We wrestled around in the mango mush for what seemed an
eternity as I kept yelling for Homer’s help.

Finally, a strong hand pulled me off Trish.

“You sure took your sweet time, Homer.” I brushed my
mango-drenched hair out of my face to behold Nick Billie.
“Oh, thank goodness. I guess you heard me on the cell phonepretty smart, huh?”

“No, you dialed Wanda Sue by mistake. That’s why I wasn’t
here sooner-she had to patch the call through to me.” He
slapped a pair of handcuffs onto Trish. “It would’ve been nice
to give me a heads-up before you swung into action, but I
think you’ve been punished enough” He glanced at my disheveled appearance, and amusement mingled with annoyance on his face. “I thought we agreed to use teamwork”

“You want to work with her?” Trish wiped mango shreds
off her jacket. “Trailer-trash girl?”

“It takes one to know one,” I retorted.

“That’s enough, Mrs. Palmer,” Nick said in a grim voice.
“You’re being arrested on suspicion of murder. I’d be worried
about that, if I were you”

“She did it, all right.” Homer waved the gun at Trish for
emphasis.

We all ducked.

“Give me that gun,” Nick ordered.

Homer immediately complied.

“Mallie, you and Homer follow me to the police station,
where I’ll take your statements” He led Trish Palmer to the
door.

“What about Rivas?” I asked.

“He’s fine. I brought him in because I was getting closer to
arresting Trish, and I thought he might go ballistic if he knew
that one of the Palmers had killed his sister. She and Homer
were my prime suspects, because two migrant workers reported
seeing both of them here the morning Gina died. Once I knew
a pesticide killed her, I figured one of them did it. I was on my
way here to gather evidence when Wanda Sue interrupted me
with your call.”

“So that whole thing about Rivas’ fingerprints was phony?”

He gave me a sheepish grin.

“So much for ‘teamwork.’” I placed my hands on my hips.
“I guess we’re never going to see eye to eye, are we?”

“Probably not” He leaned down and planted a brief, searing kiss on my mouth. “Then again, maybe we don’t need to”

As he ushered Trish Palmer out of the building, I stood still,
shocked.

“Call me if you need a good pre-nup” Homer Finch handed
me his card.

“Shut up” I followed them out, climbed into Rusty, and
drove off.

ould you like a piece of mango, Mallie?” Wanda Sue
passed a slice across my picnic table.

“No, thanks. I don’t think I can look at that particular fruit
again for a long time.” It had taken me three washings with
Kong’s favorite shampoo to get the last of the slimy mango
goop out of my hair.

As for my skin, the sunburn had finally faded to a soft pink,
though I did have a new smattering of freckles across my nose.

“At least the trees are healthy again,” Aunt Lily pointed out.
The three of us looked toward a small private grove behind
the RV park. Large mangos hung on every limb, bursting with
color and ripeness, luscious and enticing.

Except to me.

“Madame Geri says the island’s mango balance has been
restored,” Wanda Sue murmured. “Thank the good Lord”