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Authors: Marty Ambrose

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Journalist - Florida

Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves (6 page)

BOOK: Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves
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“What?” she grumbled, her attention on her computer screen.
“Bernice, I just got a call from a lead who might be ready to spill
the beans about Gina’s `secret life.’”

Bernice turned away from the monitor and rubbed her hands
together in glee. “What are you waiting for?”

I bit my lip in imitation distress. “But I thought you wanted
me to work on the `Terror on the Trail’ piece-chop-chop.”

“Chop-shmop.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll have
time to do that later. The important thing is to lock down that
source. We want sleaze, sleaze, and more sleaze. The sleazier,
the better. I want it so sleazy, you’ll have to take a shower after you write the story. Readers don’t want to know the good that
people have done in their lives. They want to know about secret
marriages, illegitimate children, and eating disorders-in no
particular order,” she hastened to add.

“If you insist,” I tossed in with mock reluctance as I backed
out of her office. Before she could change her mind, I shut
down my computer and made for the door, flashing Sandy a
double thumbs-up. I’d won this skirmish through lies and subterfuge. That aging, tackily dressed old bag was no match for
Mallie Monroe.

“Don’t be gone too long, okay?” Sandy pleaded.

“I won’t. If you promise not to have any more candy bars”

She held up two chocolate-stained fingers. “Girl Scout’s
honor.”

“Were you a Girl Scout?”

‘No”

“It’s still an oath.”

She managed a brave facsimile of a smile. “Don’t forget to
take those tennis shoes off. I think your feet are turning to
stone”

“Ohmygod, I forgot” I managed to pry the salt-ridden Keds
off my feet and don a pair of beachy flip-flops that I kept at
the office. At least I could curl my toes again. I breezed out of
the office, into the blazing midday sun. Covering my scorched
face from the sun with my hands, I dashed for Rusty and drove
off.

I arrived at the Seafood Shanty within the time I’d promised my great-aunt. As I pulled into the parking lot, I scanned
the vehicles. Big black Harleys mixed with beat-up trucks-the
usual patrons, then. Aunt Lily would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb.

I entered the shabby building, taking a few moments for my
eyes to adjust to the dim light. As the room came into focus, I beheld the fish netting hanging from the low ceiling, the long
bar at one end with leather-clad bikers seated on the stools, and
the dirty floor littered with empty peanut shells. Classy place
all around.

Off at a corner table sat my great-aunt, Lily, like a beacon
of feminine refinement. She wore a simple lavender silk blouse,
gauzy skirt, and silver sandals. As I drew closer, I noticed that
she wore large, oval-shaped sunglasses and hid the lower half
of her face behind a menu.

“Aunt Lily? Are you okay?”

“Sit,” she instructed as she pushed a menu in front of me.
“Open it, and keep your head down”

I did as she requested, taking a furtive glance around the
room. “I don’t think you have to worry about being seenunless you’ve been dating some Harley guys on the side.”

“Not likely.” She removed the sunglasses. Red-rimmed
eyes fastened on me.

“Aunt Lily, have you been crying?” Now I really was concerned, because I’d never seen my great-aunt cry on any occasion. Not at Christmas when we sang sentimental carols. Not
at Valentine’s Day when we read Hallmark cards at the drugstore. Not even at a sentimental “chick flick,” when I was reduced to a blubbering mass of tears at some couple separated
by time, space, or inability to work a cheese dip together. Okay,
maybe the last one was pushing it. “Auntie?”

“I’ve been a little … teary-eyed, I guess,” she admitted.

“A lot.”

“Guess so.” She scanned my face. “Oh, Mallie, what happened to your skin?”

“Forget that for now. What was your call all about?” I leaned
in closer. “Did you know Gina?”

She sniffed, and her eyes turned watery. “Since she was a
baby. I’ve been friends with her mother even longer than that”

“I’m so sorry.” I reached for her hand. Her smooth but icycold fingers locked around my palm.

“My loss is nothing compared to her mother’s-Mama
Maria’s.”

“That’s her mom? The woman who runs the Mexican restaurant by the same name?”

She nodded. “Mama Maria Fernandez”

“Ohmygod. I’ve been in Mama Maria’s place a hundred
times for the chicken quesadillas and never saw Gina there.
But every so often I had the beef tortilla-it was just as good.”
I paused. “Okay … sorry to get off topic. I had no idea she
was Gina’s mother. She doesn’t look … uh … old enough to
have a grown daughter.” I broke off, not wanting to sound insensitive. Mama Maria was about six inches shorter than Gina
and about ten inches wider.

“You didn’t know Maria when she was young. She was
very pretty.”

I guess my true meaning hadn’t escaped her.

“I’m sure,” I said in a soft voice. Then a blast of countrywestern music filled the room. I couldn’t identify the singer, but
he was wailing about the usual triad: missed trains, lost love,
and unfaithful women. “Have you talked to Mama Maria?”

“About an hour ago. She was so upset, she could hardly
speak”

“What about Gina’s dad?”

She stiffened. “He’s been out of the picture for a long time.”

“Was Gina her only child?”

“She’s got a son, Rivas. He’s seventeen and hot-tempered to
boot. That’s the main reason I called you” She took in a deep
breath and caught my gaze with her tortured eyes. “I want you
to find Gina’s killer. You need to get him before Rivas does. I
don’t want Mama Maria to lose both of her children.”

“Whoa. Wait a minute. Let’s back up” I folded my menu and set it on the table. “I don’t know for sure how Gina died.
Detective Billie won’t have that information until Friday. And
even if it turns out to be murder, I can’t just go tracking down
her killer. If I interfere with one of Nick Billie’s investigations
again, he’ll lock me up for sure.” Not to mention, he’d nix the
hand-holding.

“I’ll help you, I promise.”

“That’s nice, but I don’t think you can-“

“Hey, Mallie, is that you, babe?” Nora Cresswell approached
us, her baby boy nestled in one of those slings across her chest.

“Hi.” I pasted a smile onto my face. “I thought you weren’t
waitressing here anymore”

“I’m not. The owner hired me to do the books, since I finished my accounting course” Her eyes widened in surprise as
she noticed the identity of my companion. “Miss Lily? What
are you doing here?”

Lily shut her menu and pasted an identical smile onto her
face. “Mallie finally convinced me to try the cheeseburger. I
love a good burger-yum”

Nora’s forehead crinkled in confusion as she patted her son’s
back. “You do?”

“Oh, yes. Quarter pound of meat smothered in lettuce,
ketchup, and pickles. My mouth’s watering just talking about
it.” She smacked her lips.

“Well, in that case, let me order some up for you gals.” She
motioned a young girl over who sported a ponytail, miniskirt,
and heavy makeup. “Patsy, these are my friends, and they’d
each like a cheeseburger-with the works”

“Fries?” Patsy snapped her gum.

“Why not?” Aunt Lily said with a wave of her hand.

Pasty scribbled a few words onto her order pad and strolled
off. When she reached the bar, she turned and shouted, “Whaddya both want to drink?”

Two of the bikers swiveled on their stools, grinning with
interest.

“Two unsweetened iced teas,” I yelled back.

The bikers immediately lost interest. I guess they only hit
on women who drank sweetened tea-or something even
stronger.

“Will do!” Patsy gave a little salute with her pen.

Nora gritted her teeth, adjusting her son to the other side.
“It’s so hard to get decent wait staff these days. The owner has
been training that ditz, Patsy, for almost a month, and she still
bellows out the orders like she’s doing cattle calls.”

“You’ll get her to tone it down,” I assured her. “How’s little
Josh doing?” I rubbed her son’s soft, wispy blond hair.

“Sweet as a spring breeze-and full of joy.” Her face brightened into a sunny glow as she dropped a kiss onto his head.
“Not that life runs real smooth anymore. Let me tell ya, he can
put up a fuss like you wouldn’t believe. But Pete is such a patient dad, it makes the whole thing a lot easier.”

“Josh is a lucky little guy to have two great parents” I
shook his tiny hand, remembering how different Nora had
looked when I first met her. Separated from Pete at the time,
she’d worn the weary, tense look of a woman who’d turned
down a wrong road and couldn’t find her way back. It took
Pete’s being arrested for a murder he hadn’t committed to
shock her into remembering how much she loved her husband. Today, Nora’s eyes beamed with happiness and contentment.

“We’re the lucky ones,” she enthused. Then her gaze fastened
on my great-aunt. “Miss Lily, you’re mighty quiet.”

“Just old age, my dear.” My aunt averted her face. “It’s
nothing.”

“I wouldn’t call it nothing,” I cut in. “Nora’s a friend, and I
think you should tell her the truth”

“What? Has something happened?” Nora’s arms instinctively closed around her baby.

“It’s Gina Fer … Fernandez” Aunt Lily managed to sputter the name. “She’s … uh … I can’t say it.” A tear spilled
down the faded freckles on her cheek.

“She died this morning,” I said in a quiet voice.

“Gina!” Nora’s arms tightened around Josh in protection.
“I can’t believe it. She was just crowned Mango Queen. And
now she’s … gone? What? How?”

“We don’t know yet.” I shook my head. “She was found
under a mangrove tree near the start of the Little Coral Island
trail.”

“Who found her?”

Aunt Lily extended an index finger toward me.

“Oh, Mallie, not again,” Nora protested. Just then, Josh began to whimper, and she slipped a pacifier into his mouth.
“You’re like some kind of magnet for bad events”

“Just call me Mishap Mallie,” I quipped. “It must rub off
from working at the Observer with one crazy boss after another.”

Nora gave me a rueful smile, then turned serious again as
she asked Aunt Lily, “How’s Mama Maria taking it?”

“Not well,” Aunt Lily said.

“Please let her know how sorry I am about her daughter. I
know some island folk didn’t like Gina, but she was always
nice to me and Pete”

My attention spiked. “Who didn’t like her?”

Patsy brought our burgers and iced teas, suspending the conversation for a few minutes.

“Well … maybe I shouldn’t say this,” Nora began, “but her
prospective in-laws for starters-Bryan and Trish Palmer. They
never accepted Gina’s engagement last year to their son, Brett.
If you ask me, those people are too stuck-up for their own good” Josh’s whimpering continued, and Nora adjusted his
pacifier. “Their daughter, Brandi, pretended to be Gina’s friend,
but-“

“Brandi is Brett’s sister?” I cut in, surprised.

Nora nodded. “But she’s nothing like him. If looks could’ve
killed a couple of nights ago, she would’ve struck Gina dead
to get the Mango Queen title.”

“Really?” I thought I’d detected a vibe!

Nora rolled her eyes. “Absolutely. You have no idea how
important Mango Queen is on Coral Island-it’s like the
highest honor, and the contestants are very cutthroat. Women
campaign all year to win the title. Usually it’s someone from
the old families-the ones who originally homesteaded on the
island-“

“And Gina was an upstart?” I finished for her.

“Not in that kind of way. Her family has been on the island
since the turn of the century-but from the wrong side of the
tracks. Her grandfather was a migrant worker.”

Aunt Lily gave an exclamation of disgust. “I can’t believe
that people think like that in this day and age. It’s positively
medieval.”

“I’m not saying I agree,” Nora continued. “Heck, I grew up
poor, and we’re not exactly on the Coral Island social list right
now. But I understand how some folks can get all revved up
about feeling important. If it meant that much to Gina to be
Mango Queen, as far as I’m concerned, she was welcome to it.”

“Now the title will go to Brandi,” I mused aloud.

“Ain’t that just convenient as all get-out?” Nora pursed her
mouth. “Was there something … fishy about her death?”

I hesitated. “Not so far.”

“Which means you’re suspicious.” Nora opened her mouth
to continue, but Josh decided to make his presence known by
spitting out the pacifier and wailing at the top of his lungs. “Sorry, gals, it’s time for his feeding. Let me know if you find
out anything else about Gina’s death. And please tell Mama
Maria I’m thinking about her if you see her.”

“I will.” Aunt Lily gave a quick nod.

I waited until Nora had exited before I turned to my greataunt. “Okay, is that why you think Gina was murdered? Because she had a bunch of snooty future in-laws who didn’t
like her?”

“Sort of.” Her lined face suddenly sagged with every one
of her seventy-five years. “Gina refused to accept that she was
supposed to be a second-class citizen on the island because
her family came from migrant workers. That earned her some
enemies…

“But everyone goes to Mama Maria’s-it’s a landmark.
Why would people treat her daughter like dirt?”

“Oh, sure, they’ll go to Maria’s restaurant, eat her food, and
enjoy her hospitality. But when it comes to her daughter
breaking into the ranks of Coral Island society, that’s another
matter. Gina ran a successful interior-design company, was
engaged to the island’s most eligible bachelor, and made
Mango Queen. Her very success was a kick in the face to island snobs”

“Still, that doesn’t mean someone killed her.”

“Then how do you explain a young woman, in the prime of
her life, ending up dead for no apparent reason?” Lily thumped
her arms on the table with anger and frustration. Unfortunately,
our glasses had been filled to the brim, and the action ended
up splashing iced tea across the table.

BOOK: Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves
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