Daiquiri Dock Murder (33 page)

Good. I had him rattled. “Took you to Daiquiri. Tell me about it.”

“Yesh, they took me to Daiquiri, Cuba. A tiny village. Villagers were known for their daiquiris. At least that’s the story they told me. Rum. Lime juice. Sugar. My favorite drink. Later, I named my dock after that drink to thank the thousands I took to Key West. Very lucky for them. They might have been trapped in Cuba with no freedom at all.”

“Did you think that some of them might be criminals? Did you ask yourself if any of them might be mentally deranged?”

“Watch your mouth, woman! You hinting that I might have brought bad people here?”

“That’s what President Carter realized—too late to do much about it.”

“The Cubans I hauled felt nothing but grateful. I only charged two thousand a person. Could have squeezed them for three, if I’d put a little pressure on.”

“I’m not surprised that the locals here on the island wanted you off the rock. But what did it matter to you. You created your own realm in Miami, right? For a while Mike Wilson was king.”

“Right. He was—until you caused a problem that ruined that name and my marriage. But later, I was a little wiser in my name choice. When I returned to Key West, everyone had forgotten about Bucky Varnum and the Mariel Boatlift.”

“So you changed your name again, married Threnody, opened a marina, and the rest is history.”

“And I’m proud of it, very proud.”

“Is that old ship’s bell for sale, Brick? I told you before I’d love to buy it for Kane. It really belongs in its rightful place on
The Buccaneer.
In fact, now that Kane’s opened his boat as a floating monument, a historical monument honoring Key West’s former shrimping business, he may want to change the boat’s name back to its original name.”

“No. The bell isn’t for sale. At least not to Kane Riley.” Brick surprised me by standing. “Up, woman. Up. Need to see that Threnody’s still in place before I take you to a more secret spot and help you join her in death. Get up! Now!”

When I tried to stand, my head whirled. Maybe I’d lost too much blood. Bracing my uninjured hand on a dew-damp catwalk board, I pushed myself up until I stood beside Brick. He prodded me with the gun and we both stood looking down at Threnody’s head bobbing under the surface of the water.

I wanted to vomit again, but nothing remained in my stomach. I gagged and shuddered while dry heaves wracked my body. It took me a few moments to realize I no longer felt the pressure of Brick’s gun on my side. I hadn’t heard him fall, but when I turned to look at him, he lay sprawled on the catwalk by my feet.

Run! Run! I tried to run, but I had no strength left. At first, I thought Brick had fainted. Closer inspection told me he was no longer breathing. Was he dead? Had the fishing lure’s blow to his head felled him at last? Elation made me want to jump at this chance to escape. But I couldn’t move. Instead, I dropped down beside him. I grabbed the gun from his hand, clutching it so he couldn’t take it from me if he rose up in anger.

Dead? At least he lay there immobile. When I’d pulled the handcuff key from his shirt pocket, I’d felt his cell phone. Laying the gun on the catwalk as far from Brick’s body as I could reach, I forced myself to fumble into that pocket again and grab the cell.

I punched in 9-1-1. When the dispatcher’s voice answered and began asking questions, I said, ‘Daiquiri Dock Marina’ and closed the cell before I keyed Kane’s number.

“Rafa! What’s up? Where are you?”

“I’m at Daiquiri Dock, and I may have killed a man.”

Chapter 43

“Rafa!” Kane shouted into my ear. “What makes you think you’ve killed someone?”

“Brick’s lying here beside me on the catwalk. I’m not sure, but I don’t think he’s breathing.”

“You call the police?”

“Right, I did.”

“When they get there, don’t tell them a thing. Don’t say a word. Don’t answer any of their questions. I’m coming. I’ll bring a lawyer. Don’t say a word until you have a lawyer at your side to advise you. Learned that on
Law and Order
.”

Kane closed his cell, and I sat holding Brick’s phone, unable to bear the thought of touching him, of slipping it back into his pocket. Instead, I picked up his gun, still afraid he might rise and spring into action. Maybe I’d won only a short reprieve.

The police arrived first with lights flashing, sirens wailing. Then an ambulance. Then a fire truck. I didn’t call out, and it took the officers a few moments to find me—and Brick—on the middle of the catwalk. From a distance I recognized Chief Ramsey and Detective Lyon. Lyon ran down the catwalk toward me. Ramsey held the safety line and plodded toward me at a slower pace.

“Rafa Blue!” Lyon exclaimed. “Are you all right? What’s happened here?”

Pulling my knees to my chin, I remained seated, turned my face away from him, and rested my head on my knees. I followed Kane’s advice and said nothing.

“Miss Blue.” Ramsey spoke in monosyllables without raising his voice. “Miss Blue, please tell us what has happened here?”

I didn’t reply.

Lyon hunkered down on the catwalk beside me. “Rafa, please. This is an official call that you instigated. Answer our questions.”

When I refused to reply, Lyon rose to his full height. He and Ramsey began talking to each other. They didn’t look into the water and see Threnody. What if they looked in a few seconds and thought I killed both Brick and Threnody? And Diego.

Lyon pulled a ballpoint from his pocket, eased it into the gun barrel, and lifted the weapon, dropping it into a plastic bag he pulled from his other pocket. Both men studied the gun and then looked down at me. Lyon sniffed at the gun but made no comment.

“Don’t touch anything else until the M.E. arrives,” Ramsey ordered.

The medical examiner arrived, stopping in front of the chandlery at the same time Kane pulled up, stopping his truck beside the M.E. By craning my neck, I could see a man dressed in pajamas and a robe step from the truck. The lawyer? Why did I want to laugh?

“Is he dead?” the chief asked the medical examiner.

“Yes,” the M.E. replied.

“Cause of death?” Ramsey asked.

“Can’t determine that at this point, Sir. Need an autopsy.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ramsey said. “See any bullet wounds?”

The M.E. didn’t replay. And they still hadn’t seen Threnody’s body in the sea behind them. In the next few minutes photographers arrived, and cops with crime scene tape tried to cordon off the area of the unexplained death.

“May I take Rafa to my truck?” Kane asked the chief.

“Yes. But don’t leave the scene.”

“Yes, Sir.”

With Kane leading the way, he and I and the lawyer who’d he introduced as Attorney Albury walked to the truck. I felt the catwalk swaying from the weight and movement of so many people on it. Gripping the security line I struggled to keep my balance.

When we reached Kane’s truck, he reached into the truck bed and pulled out a yellow slicker that reeked of shrimp and mildew. Without protest, I let him help me into it. I snapped it on over my sleep shirt before we climbed onto the truck seat and he again introduced me to Attorney Albury.

“Miss Blue,” Attorney Albury said. “Can you tell us what happened here tonight?”

I looked at Kane for his go-ahead, and after he nodded, I related the whole story. They listened without interrupting

“Then, you didn’t shoot him?” Albury asked. “I need to be quite clear about that and I need to know you’re telling me the truth.”

“I’m telling the truth. Every word of it.”

We sat in the truck a long time. More cops arrived, spinning their patrol car wheels in the graveled driveway as they hurried to turn onlookers away from the marina. At last, the M.E. approached us, looking directly at me.

“In my opinion, a blow to the temple downed Mr. Vexton. But only an autopsy will tell us for sure”

Chief Ramsey, who had been following at the medical examiner’s heels, stepped forward. “Miss Blue, did you observe Mr. Vexton receive a blow to his head?”

“My client prefers not to answer this question at this time,” attorney Albury said. “She’s taking the fifth amendment.”

I wanted to protest. I felt that taking the fifth amendment equated admitting guilt. But the chief allowed nobody to question me further at that time. Admitting guilt? Me? A murderess?

Chapter 44

Both my father and Kane had put their trust in Albury Attorneys at Law in Key West, and I don’t know why I doubted Attorney Albury’s order to take the fifth amendment. I soon learned it was the right thing to do. By ordering me to say nothing upon first questioning, and later to answer no questions from reporters, he steered me in the right direction. Although my name later made headlines in connection with the murders of Threnody and Brick Vexton, I tried to tolerate them with good grace.

Of course, nobody could, or would want to, squelch the news media entirely. People have a right to know what’s going on in their world. Many human interest stories about the Vexton deaths appeared in
The Citizen
,
The Keynoter
,
and even
The Miami Herald
. Due to Albury’s adept legal counsel on my behalf, the courts accepted the fact that I acted in self-defense when I cast my fishing lure at Brick Vexton—the blow to his temple that took his life, but spared mine.

Someday I’d learn to live with the knowledge that I’d killed another human being. Later. Not today. Nor tomorrow. Someday. Maybe.

We closed The Frangi for a few days out of respect for Threnody, Pablo, and Diego—and even Brick, regardless of his misguided actions.

During one of our nights off, Kane took me to a special dinner at Pier House. I asked him to go for a drive with me afterward.

“Where to?”

“That’s my secret—at least for a while. Are you willing or will I be forced to kidnap you?”

“No force needed.”

So on this moonlit night, I drove up the Keys to Big Pine. I turned left onto Ship’s Way and we passed several avenues, each one named for a famous American battleship. We turned left again when I reached the avenue where my grandmother lived—Independence. After easing to the end of her street that stopped a few yards short of the huge boulders that prevented drivers from dropping off into the Gulf of Mexico, I braked the car.

“Why are you stopping in Pine Channel Estates?” Kane asked. “I remember headlines a few years ago. Headlines about a serial killer who lived in this area. Creepy stuff.”

“That guy’s dead now. Shot himself.”

“Good riddance. But something like that could happen again. County needs to put up some pole lights on these streets. They’re dark as pits.”

“Except for the moonlight. I love the moonlight.” I turned into a private drive and cut the headlights.

“Taking up trespassing, Rafa?”

“No trespassing. This is where I spent two years of my life, Kane. Not in this ground-level cottage, however, but here on Big Pine. Gram’s moved here from the other side of the island—the woods, as she called the location of her old stilt home. She’s up north visiting friends for a week, but she’s given me all-time permission to use her cottage whenever I care to. I’d like you to see it tonight. Will you come in with me?”

“Of course. Lead the way.”

When we left the car, I took Kane’s hand and led him toward the cottage door. Moonlight lit our way across the pea-graveled lawn, past a grapefruit tree, an orange tree, and lengths of croton hedge on either side of the entry.

“Where does she go during hurricanes? All the other houses are built on high pilings.”

“This is an older home, built before the eight-foot height level became a law, but the house is a CBS structure—concrete, block and stucco. Gram takes her chances—doesn’t even carry insurance.” I fitted the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the front door. Once we stepped inside, a tiny night light illumined a large oil painting of two pelicans perched on a group of four dock pilings. On the wall to our right, a smaller painting of two parrots almost seemed to call out a greeting to us. By the light of the moon shining through a wide sliding glass door, we walked through Gram’s office where a white wicker screen set her computer desk and files off from the tiny living room. There, casual furniture covered in Florida floral prints invited guests to linger.

“How about some lights?” Kane asked. “Don’t want to stumble and damage something.”

“Just follow me.” I took his hand and pulled him along behind me through a small dining room and onto a screened porch. “Here is the reason Gram bought this house—this wonderful porch. She sits here reading, writing, or playing bridge with friends while they watch boats navigate their way up and down the canal. Have a chair.”

Kane sat in the chair I offered. “No light but moonlight needed out here.”

“Right. I love the silvery glow on the canal waters. Gram swims here almost every day—winter or summer. It’s one of the many things about her new home that she heartily approves of.”

“No scary things in the water?”

“I’ve never seen any—except once. We both saw a large barracuda. The neighbors said it was harmless, a pet. No sharks roam here during daylight hours. They feed at night.”