A Deadly Slice of Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 6 (7 page)

Marilyn
had shown her insurance agent the mess in the shop, then she and the girls
cleaned up all of the sticky goo that seemed to fill every nook, cranny and
corner. Two of the four display cases would have to be replaced rather than
repaired, she would need to have a new front counter built, her cash register
and computer had been broken beyond repair, and every contractor in town seemed
to be previously committed for months. She couldn’t rebuild things herself, and
was at a loss as to how she should proceed. The insurance company would cover
the costs to return the shop to its former state, and then sue Melvin Bland on
her behalf, but all the funding in the world amounted to exactly nothing if she
couldn’t find a contractor willing to do the work.

Taking
the last couple of black plastic trash bags out to the dumpster behind the
building, Marilyn saw an ancient brick-red pickup truck pull into a parking
space near her back door. Understandably paranoid, she set her bags down and
stood, hands on hips, waiting to see who would emerge from the vehicle.

“Hey
there, pie lady!” Captain Bob called out as he stepped carefully down from the
truck.

“Hello,”
she replied, relieved to see a friendly face. “What are you doing in this neck
of the woods?”

“I
heard that you’d run into some trouble, so I came to see if I could lend a
hand,” he smiled affably, reaching for the trash bags and tossing them in the
dumpster as though they weighed no more than a feather.

“Well,
that’s very kind of you,” Marilyn grinned back. “How did you happen to hear
about our…issues?”

“You
know how it is…small island and all,” he shrugged. “How bad was it?”

“Come
on in, I’ll show you what’s left of my shop,” she made a face.

Once
inside, Captain Bob looked around with a keen eye, taking in all of the details
that Marilyn pointed out, shaking his head and clucking his disapproval.

“Well,
isn’t this just a fine mess?” he said grimly. “When will you be able to
reopen?”

“I’m
not sure yet,” she shrugged helplessly. “My insurance company said that they’ll
fund the project and sue on my behalf, but I can’t find a single contractor on
the island who has any availability in the next sixth months or so. I don’t
know what to do,” she added, dejected. “I can’t take the hit financially that
being closed for half a year would bring.”

“Don’t
you worry your pretty little head about that, pie lady,” he said, punching
numbers into his phone. In a matter of minutes he had contacted a contractor,
Reggie Hutchins, whom he assured Marilyn was one of the best in town, and made
arrangements for him to meet with her first thing in the morning.

“Wow,
that’s amazing, thank you so much,” she exclaimed. “How can I ever repay you
for your kindness?”

“Well
now, I have been hankering for a slice of pie lately,” he pursed his lips,
thinking. “How about after you meet with Reggie, you bring your staff and a
couple of Key Lime pies over to the marina for a charter fishing excursion?” he
suggested. “I’ll bring a lunch and we can spend the day on the water to help
you forget about your troubles – sound good?”

“That
sounds wonderful,” Marilyn nodded gratefully.

“Alright
then, missy, I’ll see you and your crew in the morning,” he stuck out a
calloused hand for her to shake, and she noticed that he had a bandage across
his palm.

“Oh
my goodness, what happened?” she asked, noting the bandage.

Captain
Bob chuckled. “Darlin, when a man makes his living on the sea, it’s a rare day
that he doesn’t have a couple of bumps and scrapes somewhere or another,” he
said, grasping her hand gently before climbing up into his truck.

“I
bet. Thanks again, Captain Bob,” she waved, and he stuck his hand out the
window in return as he backed out of the parking space.

**

Marilyn
was so busy fumbling in her purse for her house keys, that she nearly jumped
out of her skin when Tim Eckels spoke to her from where he was standing in the
shadows of her porch.

“He
was here again,” he said in a flat voice that gave her chills.

Too
wary to even be annoyed at her neighbor for startling her, she crossed over to
where Tim stood with arms folded over his chest, looking somber as usual.

“Who
was here?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

“The
one who followed you. He’s not right,” her neighbor replied. Concern overrode
her sense of irony and she stepped closer.

“What
was he doing here, Tim? Did you see him do anything?” she looked around as
though Melvin Bland might be hiding in the bushes waiting to attack.

“He
was in the back. He shouldn’t have been back there,” her neighbor slowly raised
an arm and extended his finger, pointing to the back yard.

“Can
you show me where you saw him? I’d really appreciate it,” Marilyn said,
glancing nervously toward the back yard. Her neighbor might be odd, but at
least she wouldn’t have to go in the back yard alone.

Tim
seemed to consider her request for a long moment, then, without saying a word,
he turned and shuffled off toward the back yard, with Marilyn close behind.
When he got to the patio, he stopped and pointed at the kitchen window.

“He
was there.”

She
walked over to the window, noticing immediately that the screen on the outside
had been bent as though it had been improperly pried from its frame. Thankfully
she had remembered to lock the windows before she left for the shop. She looked
for clues on the ground underneath the window, but didn’t see anything out of
the ordinary.

“Was
this the only place that you saw him?” she asked, her gaze still focused on the
window. When she received no reply, she turned around to see Tim disappearing
through the tree line, headed for home.

Sighing,
Marilyn found the key to the back door on her key ring, and went inside. Flipping
the light switch in the kitchen, she was surprised when the kitchen light
didn’t come on. Feeling an eerie sense of dread, she peered in and noted that
the digital displays for the refrigerator, stove, microwave and dishwasher were
not lit. Switching on the flashlight app from her phone, she hurried across the
kitchen and opened the pantry door, turning left to find the fuse box. Shining
the light across the neat lines of tabs on the fuse box, she was confused when
it didn’t seem that any breakers had been tripped. She flipped the breaker for
the kitchen anyway, and wasn’t surprised when nothing happened. Suddenly
feeling alone and more than a little vulnerable, she hurried from the kitchen
and flipped the light switch on in the dining room. Nothing. She tried the
living room with the same result and gave up, rushing from the house, locking
the door and running to the safety of her car, dialing Bernard Cortland’s
number as soon as she was locked inside.

Marilyn
knocked on the door to Tiara’s apartment, hating to just drop in, but not
knowing where else to go while the police checked out her cottage. She had
dropped off a spare house key with the detective on her way over, and headed
for her daughter’s, just longing to feel safe and see a friendly face.

“Mom…hi,”
Tiara looked puzzled when she opened the door.

“Can
I come in?” her mother asked, feeling shaky and weak.

“Of
course,” she opened the door all the way, standing back to let Marilyn pass.
Her roommates were out of town, so Tiara had been sitting in front of the
television working on a new ad campaign for when the shop reopened. “Are you
okay?” she asked, looking closely at her mother.

Marilyn
related what had happened at the house and Tiara listened intently, shaking her
head.

“This
has to stop – it’s getting ridiculous,” her daughter exclaimed, frowning. “You
have some sick guy stalking you, Dad says that he thinks they’re going to
arrest him for Brad’s murder, and the shop is destroyed. What next?” she fumed.

“Your
father is going to be arrested?” Marilyn sank down onto the couch.

“Looks
that way. The detective found some shady deals in his past and talked to some
people who said that he threatened them, and…” Tiara trailed off, trying to
keep the tears at bay.

“Oh,
honey, I’m so sorry,” she put her arm around the distraught young woman.

“I
think he’s going to run,” she mumbled.

“What
do you mean?” Marilyn asked, gently tipping her daughter’s chin up to look at
her.

“The
police told him that he had to stay in town while they were investigating, and
he complained about how expensive the hotel was, so I told him that he could
stay here and sleep on the couch, and he started acting really weird and made
an excuse to leave right away,” she explained miserably. “I still don’t think
that he did it, but it seems like he’s so afraid of going to jail that he might
do something stupid.”

“Well,
I’m sorry, sweetie, you did your best to try to help him. He’s an adult, so
hopefully he’ll make an adult decision and stay put,” Marilyn leaned her
forehead against her daughter’s.

Tiara
nodded, then gave her mom a quick hug and pulled away, swiping at her eyes.
“Are you hungry? I was about to order some Chinese food,” she changed the
subject.

“Let’s
go out,” her mother proposed. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had an actual
mother-daughter date,” she observed. “We can go out to eat and maybe catch a
movie and forget about all this ridiculous drama for a while, how does that
sound?” she asked gently, tucking a stray golden lock of hair behind her
daughter’s ear.

“That
sounds amazing, Mom,” she nodded, still not smiling, but feeling a bit better
at least. “I feel bad though…going out and having fun while Dad’s life is so
complicated,” she admitted.

“There’s
nothing you can do though, sweetie, and sitting here worrying about it isn’t
going to help. There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of relief. I know I
could use some diversion right about now,” Marilyn said softly.

“Okay,”
Tiara nodded. “I’m sorry you’re having to go through all of this, Mom. I’m just
so used to you being so self-sufficient and taking care of everything and
everyone, that I sometimes forget that you need support too,” she looked up at
her mother with wide blue eyes.

“And
right now, I could use a drink, so let’s walk to wherever we’re going,” she
replied, lightening the mood.

“Agreed,”
her daughter replied wryly.

When
Marilyn shared that they were invited to go charter fishing with Captain Bob,
and now had a contractor to work on the shop, Tiara was so excited that she
texted Kelcie immediately to arrange to pick her up on the way to the marina.
Mother and daughter had a relaxed evening filled with laughter, and were
finally able to relieve some of the stress that had been building for both of
them ever since Daniel had decided to come down for vacation. Little did they
know that, while they were out enjoying their evening, two men descended upon
Marilyn’s little cottage under cover of darkness.

Daniel
Hayes sat motionless in a lawn chair on his ex-wife’s back porch, wishing he
had a cold beer and a warm bed. His life was in danger, and it was time to come
clean with Marilyn about what exactly had happened after his fishing trip with
Tiara. Sometimes honesty was straight-up dangerous, but that was a chance he’d
have to take, and he could only hope that the woman he once loved would do the
right thing for him, after all these years apart. She didn’t owe him anything,
but he was banking on her sympathy and understanding because of the child that
they had created together. Surely, their daughter was reason enough for her to
protect him.

His
boredom profound, Daniel found his chin slipping to his chest and was on the
verge of drifting off to sleep when a noise to his right, across the patio from
where he sat, caught his attention. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and
he could tell, even in the near absence of light, that the person approaching
Marilyn’s back door was male, not female. He knew nothing about his ex-wife’s
love life, but could tell by the halting steps that the man took in an effort
to be quiet, that this was not someone whom she would welcome into her home. He
watched with great interest as the somewhat clumsy-seeming intruder pulled what
looked like a pry bar out of a bag that he had brought, and decided it was time
to make his move.

“Hey!”
he barked, startling the man, who made a frightened mewling sound and dropped
the pry bar with a sharp clang on the flagstone patio. The man stood motionless
for a moment, squinting into the darkness to try to pinpoint who had made the
sound that scared him, than apparently decided he didn’t care and turned to
run. He never knew what hit him as Daniel expertly tackled him to the ground,
clapped a hand over his mouth and secured his hands behind his back.

Daniel
had one knee in the middle of the man’s somewhat squishy back and the other on
the ground beside him. Bending at the waist, he brought his lips close to the
intruder’s ear, close enough that the man could hear him without having to
raise his voice beyond a growl.

“I’m
going to take my hand off of your mouth, and you’re going to tell me who you
are, and what exactly you’re doing here. If you make any noise beyond that, I
will have no problem smashing your head into this flagstone and leaving you to
bleed out, are we clear on that?” he asked in a low voice. The terrified
intruder, made a noise low in his throat and nodded his head in panicked jerks
to show that he understood and would obey. Grabbing his hair in one hand, and
removing the other slowly from his mouth, Daniel bent over him again.

“Who
are you, dirtbag?” he growled in the man’s ear. “And what did you think you
were going to get away with tonight?

“I’m…I’m
no one important,” the intruder stuttered in a rather high-pitched voice. “I
was just…checking the security system,” he lied badly.

Daniel
slammed the liar’s head into the stone below them, just once, for good measure,
causing the man to cry.

“Ow…that
hurts,” he blubbered. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Fortunately
for you, I don’t have the time or the inclination to mess with a common thief
tonight, so I’m going to let you go. But, if you ever darken this doorstep, or
come anywhere near this place again, I will bash your head into this flagstone
so many times that there won’t be any chunks big enough to stitch back
together, you got that, dirtbag?” Daniel threatened.

“I…I
understand, sir. Please…please, just let me go,” he mewled.

“Give
me a name, and if you lie to me, I’m going to hunt you down,” he promised.

“Melvin,”
the man sobbed. “My name is Melvin…please don’t hurt me.”

“Melvin…”
Daniel shook his head. “Melvin?”

“Yes?”

“Get
out of here before I change my mind,” he said, standing up and kicking the writhing
worm of a man with the toe of his running shoe.

Melvin
winced at the pain in his side, then stood, and abruptly shone a flashlight in
Daniel’s eyes, blinding him. In the moments that it took Daniel to recover,
Melvin had raced from the back yard, through the trees, past Tim’s driveway,
and disappeared.