Michaela Thompson - Florida Panhandle 01 - Hurricane Season (16 page)

“God almighty.” Josh straightened. “You told the sheriff about me?”

Lily wondered if she’d just signed her death warrant. “He’s my son-in-law. And if I turned up missing—”

Josh stared at her. “What do you reckon I’m doing out here? Can you guess?”

“Since you asked about the Calhouns, I reckon you’re making moonshine.”

“We need to be secret. We don’t need anybody telling the sheriff about it.”

“I didn’t tell him about moonshining. I told him I thought you made the call about Diana Landis.”

Josh seemed to be framing a reply, but before he could make it Lily saw his eyes grow wider, staring past her shoulder. She jumped up, turning in the same motion. A few yards behind her, standing with a shotgun leveled at Josh’s chest, stood Sam Perry.

“You put that gun down, young feller,” said Sam. His baseball cap was shoved to the back of his head, and Lily noticed that he had put on threadbare tennis shoes. Josh bent and laid his rifle on the ground.

Lily’s legs felt wobbly. “Thank God, Sam,” she said.

“You and me will get in your boat, Lily,” he said, not taking his eyes off Josh.

She went to the boat as Sam slowly made his way across the clearing.

“You don’t understand,” said Josh. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you—”

“From what I see, you been a little bit harsh with this lady here,” said Sam.

“Me harsh with her? You ought to see what she—”

“Cast off, Lily,” said Sam, stepping into the boat. While he kept the gun on Josh, Lily untied the rope, shoved the boat into the creek, and hopped aboard.

“If you’d let me—” Josh began, but the motor started after only one pull and drowned out the rest of his words.

Lily swung the boat around and headed for the ocean, catching only the briefest parting glimpse of Josh’s strained face.

“The Lord bless thee and keep thee,” intoned Brother Chillingworth. “The Lord make his face to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace. Amen.”

The scent of flowers hung heavily under the green canopy. The faint snuffling that had been audible when Diana’s casket was lowered into the grave next to her mother’s was now stilled, and heads bowed for the benediction were raised. People began to murmur to each other in low voices.

Standing in the patchy grass at the edge of the canopy, dressed in her best dress and shoes, Lily tried to compose her mind to say good-bye to Diana. It was difficult. Only this morning, noon really, she had been knocked down and held at gunpoint—or more or less held at gunpoint. Rescued at gunpoint, anyway. And yet here she was at Diana’s funeral, exactly where she would have been if nothing had happened.

When she thanked Sam for his help, he said, “I know you, Miss Lily. Once you asked about it, I figured you to come messing around down here. We can’t let people get into trouble on St. Elmo, or we’ll have the law all over us. No offense to Woody. But the reason we’re here, if you follow me, is to be left alone.”

She had taken him back to his beached boat and, with a final wave of his hand, he was gone.

If Aubrey had been curious, he didn’t show it. When she asked if he minded keeping the store so she could go to Diana’s funeral, he ducked his head and said, “All right.”

Snapper looked terrible. Perspiring in his black suit, his face the color of dough, he looked transformed from his usual hearty, back-slapping self. When Lily pressed through the crowd to shake his hand and say, “Beautiful service,” his grip was lax.

“It was, though, wasn’t it?” he said, but she could tell he was thinking about something else.

The Calhouns were there, even the old man, who, his feeble legs bent, had to lean on Sonny. Bo, she noticed, stood away from his family, staring at the grave. Sue Nell—Lily glanced through the crowd again to make sure she wasn’t mistaken—Sue Nell was the only Calhoun wife not present.

Isolated from the crowd on the other side of the canopy was a small knot of black people. In the center of the group, Lily saw Pearl standing under her umbrella with her daughter Marinda. The sight of Pearl reminded Lily of the poems, and her unkept promise to show them to Woody. She’d better explain.

As she approached the group, it seemed to loosen. She beckoned to Pearl. “It was a nice service, don’t you think?” she said when the two were close enough for conversation.

“Yes ma’am. Surely,” said Pearl. Her face was closed, unexpressive.

Maybe she doesn’t like being singled out, Lily thought. I’ve embarrassed her. “I just wanted to tell you I haven’t had a chance to talk with Woody about the poems,” she said. “I tried, but he didn’t want to see them right then. He had just arrested Wesley.”

Pearl’s hands were twisting a white handkerchief. “Yes ma’am.”

Lily looked at her closely. “Is everything all right, Pearl?”

Pearl closed her eyes and nodded.

“Well,” Lily pushed on gamely, “I’m going to talk to Woody again as soon as things quieten down. I’ll let you know what happens.”

Pearl said, “Thank you, ma’am,” and turned back to her companions.

Feeling that she had somehow mishandled the encounter, Lily picked through the gravestones toward her car, stopping occasionally to talk with acquaintances. When she reached the Nash, she looked back. The canopy was almost deserted now, the afternoon sun glinting off the bright satin ribbons on the flower arrangements. Pearl stood alone now, near the grave, her head bent. The only one of us who’s really sorry to see Diana go, Lily thought. Diana was lucky to have even one person who cared about her that much. A feeling of bereavement that she recognized as having nothing to do with Diana came over her. She got in the car and headed back to the store.

By the time she arrived, her head was once again full of the morning’s adventures. A secret moonshine still on the island. Why, she kept asking herself, hadn’t she called Woody immediately to tell him? It was, she knew, nothing more than misplaced pride. He hadn’t listened to her other suggestions, so why should she hand him a bunch of moonshiners on a plate? Let him find them for himself, the way she had.

But there was another reason she hadn’t called. Despite the fact that he’d knocked her down and scared her half to death, she felt a sneaking liking for the man named Josh. He had tried to apologize and had seemed to want to tell her something. He had given the impression of being in some sort of trouble. But, of course, she reproved herself, none of that meant he wasn’t dangerous. She had best keep her sympathies under control.

She sent Aubrey back to his bees, and the afternoon wore on. Schoolchildren bought drinks and candy, messed up the comic books, and left. Passengers for the last ferry idled in, picking up an extra quart of milk, a loaf of bread, a bag of corn meal. Lily yawned. The day’s exertions were catching up with her.

The ferry left on its final run. She squinted out the screen door, gauging the weather. It might rain, she told herself, and at that moment the faintest of breezes touched her cheek.

She swept the floor, the door left open for late customers, then put the broom and dustpan in the back room. When she returned, Josh was standing by the door.

He made a conciliatory gesture, looking nervous. “It’s all right.”

Lily’s hands felt cold. She edged along the shelves and picked up a large can of tomatoes. “You do one wrong thing and I’ll throw this whole shelf of cans at you.”

“Don’t start throwing anything.” Josh’s fingers touched the scratch on his cheek. “I want to talk to you.”

“Go ahead.”

He edged into the room. “You said the sheriff was your son-in-law. Have you told him about today?”

“I don’t have to answer any questions. If you want to tell me something, tell me.”

“Well, this is it. I know you think I’m some moonshiner out in the woods. But there’s more going on than that. It’s real important that you don’t tell the sheriff or anybody else about me.”

“You ambush me and hold a gun on me. Why should I do what you say?”

The color in Josh’s face deepened. “Because I work for the Beverage Department. And it looks like you’re about to mess me up bad.”

“You’re a revenuer?”

“That’s what I get called sometimes. And worse things.”

Lily almost put down the tomatoes, then changed her mind. “How do I know that’s the truth? And why are you telling me?”

“I’m working under cover, so I don’t carry identification. You can call the department in Tallahassee and ask them if Josh Burns works for them, and they’ll tell you yes.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re Josh Burns.”

He shook his head. “No. And I don’t know what I could do to prove I am, short of totally ruining my operation, which you’re about to do for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you tell the sheriff, it’s going to mess up the whole thing. He doesn’t know I’m here. I’m working on a tip from an informer. For all we know, the sheriff may be involved himself. You tell him about us, that lets him know we know. My job is to find out who the head man is. There’s a big bankroll behind the operation. It may be somebody the sheriff is friendly with.”

Lily knew that Woody was hand in glove with the Calhouns, but the idea that he might be paid off by another group of moonshiners as well was disturbing. “Do you think he’s mixed up with them?”

“I’ve got no reason to think so. But just in case, I don’t want him knowing I’m here.”

Lily thought. The whole thing could be a cock-and-bull story to keep her from turning them in. And yet—she looked at Josh, who was gnawing his lip, his hands in his back pockets. “Have a drink,” she said, nodding at the cooler.

He got a strawberry soda and took a long swallow. “Did you make that phone call? The one about Diana?” Lily asked.

Josh sighed. “I was hoping you’d let that go. Yes ma’am, I made the call. I found her body.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I was doing my job.”

Lily put the tomatoes down. “Does that mean Diana—” Josh shook his head. “I’ve told you all I’m going to say. Knowing any more could get you in trouble. You’ve got to decide what you’re going to do.”

In the silence that followed, Josh finished his drink and put it in the wooden crate by the cooler. Lily straightened the canned goods, setting them in neat rows. She turned around. “I have one more question.”

For the first time, Josh smiled. “I’m getting used to it.”

“You said you had an informer. Who is it?”

He shook his head. “If I knew I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t know. We got a letter, not signed, saying there was a big new still starting up on the island. I came to see if it was true.”

If Josh cleaned himself up, Lily thought, he’d be a fairly nice-looking young man. “All right,” she said. “I won’t tell Woody—or anybody. Not unless something else happens.”

“Ma’am, that’s a big relief to me,” Josh said.

“My name is Lily. Lily Trulock.”

“Thank you, Miss Lily.” Josh dug into his pocket. “I’ve got to make a call, and then I’ve got somebody to see.” He held up a nickel. “I’ve got the change this time.” He waved and was gone.

As she finished cleaning up the store, Lily wondered if she had done the right thing. She locked the cash box and closed the door of the back room. The faint sound of an outboard motor told her Josh must be on his way to see whoever he had to see.

Well, she’d given her word, and she wasn’t going back on it. She locked the door and started out for her usual walk along the beach.

Josh’s hands were shaking as he dialed the operator in the phone booth outside Trulock’s Grocery. He had never had to reveal his identity during an undercover job before. That plus the averted ambush last night meant things were not as smooth as they should be. He wondered what Eddie would say. Maybe Eddie would want him to give up and come home. The thought was obscurely comforting, until he remembered Sue Nell. That would mean he couldn’t see Sue Nell. But on the other hand he’d be shut of St. Elmo, and Murphy, and that damn island. . He tapped the glass with his fingers.

Could he trust Lily Trulock? He thought he could. She might be nosy, but she didn’t seem foolish or flighty. Keeping a store out here probably got lonely, made her want to keep an eye on other people’s business. And now she knew a great deal about his. He wondered what Eddie would say.

As it happened, he wasn’t going to find out. “He’s long gone, Josh,” Louise said. “It’s lucky you caught me and not the night boys. I just stayed late to finish typing some reports.”

“I wanted to tell him—”

“He did leave a message for you,” Louise went on. “Let me see here.”

Over the static on the line, Josh imagined he could hear papers shuffling on Louise’s desk. “He said if you called to tell you the people upstairs are looking at the situation, but for right now there’s no change in your assignment.”

“There are some things I needed to tell him.”

“About the congressman’s daughter?”

“No. Not about that.”

“Has the situation down there changed?”

“It looks like the Calhouns are on our trail.” He told her about the previous night’s events. “Other than that—” He stopped to think. If he could trust Lily Trulock, there was no reason to tell Louise he’d revealed his identity. He’d wait until he could speak directly to Eddie. “I guess that’s all,” he said. “I got a real mess on my hands here, Louise.”

“I’ll tell him. Take it easy, Josh.”

Take it easy, thought Josh as he wrapped the starter cord around his motor. He gave it a vicious pull and, naturally, the motor coughed and died. Doing it again, more slowly, he went over his mental map of the waterways around Palmetto. Tupelo Branch might be as much as a half hour away. Murphy had been almost amiable about letting Josh come to the mainland—“to check things out,” Josh had said. Although Josh knew, rationally, that Murphy simply trusted him more after last night, he still couldn’t escape the fear that Murphy suspected something and was setting a trap for him. The smart thing to do would be to get back early. But instead of heading for the island, Josh turned his boat toward the canal.

In fifteen minutes, he swung into the muddy expanse of the Big Cypress River. The water, slightly choppy in the rising wind, had a silvery sheen in the fading light, the banks lined so thickly with trees that they looked black. Soon he’d reach the place where the Little Cypress came in. And down that a ways, on the left, Jones Branch, Bobcat Branch, Tupelo Branch. He opened his motor to full throttle.