Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue (19 page)

“You and Jimmy have fun…. I’ve got a story to do”
Sprinting past them, I stepped onto the pier. Excitement
kindled inside of me. I had a prime opportunity to preview all the islanders’ fishing flies while appearing to
work on my article. If the murderer were here today, I
might be able to pinpoint him by his fly. I grinned to
myself. All right, keep it clean, Mallie. His fishing fly.

I strolled toward a group of fishermen at the end of the
pier. Jake Fowler wasn’t among them. I took a few photos, asked some questions for my article, getting people’s
reactions to the tournament, and managed to scope out
their flies. Fishing flies, of course.

Nothing but run-of-the-mill stuff.

I started to make my way back to the shore when I
spied a young woman with a group of kids clamoring
around her. It was Beverly from the school. I’d recognize that lovely gold hair anywhere. Unfortunately, the
rest of her appearance still screamed “schoolteacher.”
A long black skirt, plaid coat, and Mary Janes completed
the picture of Mary Poppins in the twenty-first century.
As I approached her, I noticed the expert flick she gave
to her fishing pole, launching her fly way out into the
water.

“I can tell you’ve done your share of fishing,” I said.

She turned around and looked blank for a few moments.

“Mallie Monroe, from the Observer. Remember I
came to cover the jump-rope story at the elementary
school?”

Recognition dawned in her eyes. “Oh, yes, of course. I
knew I’d seen you somewhere. It’s just that I deal with so
many students and their parents that sometimes I sort of
forget who I’ve talked to”

“Sure” I couldn’t make out what kind of fly was on
the end of her line. It looked larger than some of the
other ones I’d seen today. “Since I’ve got you here, I
might as well get a quote for my article.”

“Miss … miss!” A little boy with large brown eyes
and hair that flopped over his forehead was pulling on
her coat. “My line is all messed up”

“Never a dull moment. Just a sec.” She set her pole
down, took his, and with a few deft movements untangled his line and handed it back to him. “Here, go join
Robby and the other boys.”

Once again I was impressed with her fishing acumen. I decided I had to get a look at her fly. I don’t
know how or why she could be connected to Tom, but
anything was possible.

One boy from the group waved at me. It was Kevin.
I waved back. Then I frowned when I saw that Robby
Fowler was also in the little group. “It’s nice to see Kevin
out here with his-“

“Buddies. Yes, I know.” A cloud of doubt settled over
the delicate oval of her face. “But to tell you the truth, I’m a little concerned. The other boys in his class have
heard about Tom’s death and the rumors that it was …
murder.” She stumbled over the last word as if it were
an obscenity. “They’re upset and scared”

“Of Kevin?”

She picked up her fishing pole again. “I’m afraid so”

“They don’t actually think he’d-“

“Hurt them?” she cut in again.

I glared at her. One, because she was painting Kevin
in a bad light. And, two, because she seemed genetically
unable to let me finish a sentence.

“I hate to say this about one of my own students, but
I’m a little nervous around him myself.”

“That’s ridicu-“

“Is it? I’ve seen Kevin’s temper in the classroom. He’s
easily frustrated and takes it out on his classmates. I’ve
tried to work with him, knowing his parents were separated, but he’s been sent to detention almost a dozen
times over the last month alone”

“What for?” That odd, protective feeling rose up inside me again. At the ripe old age of twenty-eight, was
I finally becoming maternal? Nah. It couldn’t be. I didn’t
particularly like kids. I just hated seeing anyone get
picked on.

“Fighting with the other boys. He’s got quite a temper, and I’ve been concerned that he might injure one of
his classmates” She clucked her tongue in an irritating
manner that reminded me of my old schoolteachers, who were always comparing me to my straight-A, never absent, always perfect sibling. “One time he hit a boy on
the head with a paperweight.”

A tiny alarm went off in the back of my mind. “Did
you tell the police?”

“Of course. I had to “

No wonder Detective Billie still considered Kevin a
suspect. A hot-tempered, violent boy on a boat with his
dad who’d deserted him. I had to admit, it didn’t sound
good even to me.

“Did you call in the school counselor-” I began.

“Killer!” a boy screamed. “Daddy killer!”

“No. No. No!” another boy yelled back.

I turned toward the group of boys in time to see
Kevin knock down Robby Fowler, then rain punches on
his face in a fit of rage.

“I’ll kill you!” Kevin exclaimed.

oys,B stop that!” Beverly shouted and clapped her
hands. They ignored her.

“Hit him! Hit him!” the other boys clamored. I wasn’t
sure if they were encouraging Kevin or Robby, but I realized that one of them was going to get hurt.

I pushed past the circle of boys and reached for
Kevin. But Jake Fowler got there first. He pulled Robby
back by the hood of his jacket. I slipped an arm around
Kevin to keep him in check. His breathing was ragged,
his whole body shaking.

“What’s the matter with you, boy?” Jake exclaimed.
“Haven’t I told you about fighting?”

Robby’s face was flushed. “But you’re the one who
told me Kevin’s dad was a no-good-“

“That’s not the point. You don’t rag on a boy when he’s down. He just lost his father. Cut him some
slack”

I almost gasped. Was this Jake Fowler? He actually
seemed to be showing some sympathy for Kevin.

“But, Dad-“

“It’s time for you to go home.” He grabbed Robby’s
fishing pole. “Sorry ‘bout this.” He looked at me rather
than Beverly. “He’ll be grounded, I can tell you.”

Robby began to cry.

Jake hustled him away from the group, chastising him
every step of the way. The other boys turned back to their
fishing poles, whispering among themselves.

“Are you okay, Kevin?” I squatted down to his level.

“Yeah” The anger had faded from his face. Now he
just looked embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay that-“

“No, it’s not okay,” Beverly cut in, her voice at a
shrill pitch that sounded like nails scraping across a
chalkboard. “Kevin, how many times have I talked to
you about practicing self-control? You simply cannot
continue hurting other children. If you do, the principal
will have to remove you from the school. Is that what
you want?”

“No, miss.”

“I didn’t think so” She folded her arms across her
flat chest. Her face took on a pinched quality that offered a preview of what she would look like in twenty
years. It wasn’t pretty.

“You don’t even know who started the fight” I rose
to my feet. “It could’ve been any of the other boys”

“Robby? Maybe so. But Kevin was the one who had
him down, pummeling his face. That is totally unacceptable.”

“Yes, miss,” he mumbled.

“What’s going on here?” Detective Billie strode up
to us, looking big and handsome in his jeans and black
leather jacket.

“Oh, Nick, thank goodness you’re here,” she tittered.
The pinched look vanished, replaced by a coy, mincing
smile. Ick. That was even worse. Not that I was jealous.
Far from it.

“The boys just had a little ruckus, and-” I began.

Beverly brushed aside my comments and blurted out,
“Kevin had Robby Fowler down on the dock and was
beating him senseless.”

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t like that-“

“Poor Robby was saved in the nick of time by his father,” she continued.

“Okay, I’ll take it from here” Detective Billie glanced
down at Kevin from what must’ve seemed a great height
to the young boy. “Whaddya say we go get a hot chocolate and chat?” he proposed, his voice firm.

“Okay.” Kevin pointed at me. “Can she come too?”

His eyes caught and held mine. “Sure. If we can keep
her from talking too much.”

Beverly laughed and started to say something, but then her cell phone rang. She pivoted on her heel, chatting away on the phone, and strolled toward her students
with a saucy sway to her hips. Spare me.

“Thanks a lot, Nick.” I gave an affronted snort. “You
can pick up the tab for the hot chocolates”

Kevin and I trooped inside. Detective Billie followed
a few minutes later after a brief stop at the concession
stand.

We found a table set off in an alcove by itself and
pulled up a couple of chairs. Kevin immediately grabbed
for his hot chocolate. He downed almost half of it in one
long swallow, leaving a little brown mustache over his
upper lip.

Detective Billie dabbed at the boy’s mouth with a
napkin. “Now, Kevin, tell me what happened out there
on the dock”

Kevin hung his head low on his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, but I still need some details,” he
continued.

“I was minding my own business just fishing, that’s
all, I swear. The other boys didn’t say much to me, but
that’s okay. I didn’t want to talk to them neither.” His defensive tone told the opposite story. “Anyways, Robby
came up and started boasting. Said he was gonna catch
the biggest fish. Stuff like that. I ignored him. But then he
pushed me and said he wanted my fishing spot. I still
didn’t do anything. Honestly.”

I didn’t respond, but I believed him. Detective Billie
sipped his hot chocolate in silence. I did likewise.

“Then he started saying things. Like my dad was a
no-good so-and-so who cheated his dad. And that nobody would … miss him.” Kevin sniffed and swiped at
the film of tears that threatened to spill onto his cheeks.

“And that’s when you hit him?” Nick inquired gently.

Kevin nodded.

I pressed my lips together in a tight line to keep from
adding my two cents’ worth. Who wouldn’t have struck
out in anger? Kevin had been pushed beyond what a
young boy could take.

“I get the picture.” Detective Billie sat back in his
chair, studying Kevin. “It’s tough when the other guys
taunt you. Trust me, I know. A lot of kids used to make
fun of me because I was half white and half Indian-“

“Did you get mad?” Kevin asked.

“Sure. And it hurt inside. But you’ve got to be bigger
than they are. Nothing is ever going to be fixed through
violence. That only breeds more violence. Losing control like that makes them win every time.”

“Yes, sir,” Kevin said in a small voice.

“After you tell your mom what happened, she and
I can talk about getting you some anger-management
counseling at school.”

Kevin’s mouth drooped. “Do I have to?”

“Yeah, you do”

At that point, Wanda Sue swept in like a mini maternal tornado, arms flapping, high heels clattering. “Kevin,
are you all right? I heard Robby Fowler and you was in
a brawl” She folded him into her arms for a quick hug. Then she scanned him and patted him down. “No black
eyes, no broken bones”

“I’m fine, Nana” Kevin wriggled like a fresh-caught
fish. “It was just a fist fight”

“Boy, you’re gonna give your nana a heart attack”
She placed a hand against her ample chest. “No fighting.
Haven’t your momma and I told you that often enough?”
She looked at Detective Billie. “Are you gonna arrest
him for disturbing the peace?”

I heard Kevin draw in a quick gasp.

Detective Billie’s mouth quirked, but he kept his expression stern. “We’ll let him off this time with just a
warning. But have Sally Jo call me. We need to talk.”

Wanda Sue drew her palms together in a prayerlike
posture. “Thank you, Nick. I’ll have her call you Monday morning.” She reached down to take her grandson’s
hand. “Let’s go home”

Kevin started to go. At the last minute he turned
back toward Detective Billie. “I’ll tell my mom about
the fight when I get home”

“Good idea. It’s best she hear the details from you
first”

The boy nodded and shook hands with Detective
Billie.

I observed this solemn exchange but waited until
Kevin had left before I said anything. “Don’t you think
you were a bit hard on him?”

“Nope” He drank some more of his hot chocolate, looking rather cute with a faint foamy mustache on his
upper lip.

“Boys do that kind of thing all the time. That’s what
they do. They fight,” I pointed out as a took a long swig
of the hot beverage. It wasn’t coffee, but it still chased
away the chill.

“An occasional fight is okay. But Kevin’s temper has
gotten out of control. Beverly Jennings has called me
several times over the last couple of months. It started
with the usual kind of thing-pushing and shoving on
the playground. But then the incidents escalated” Nick
frowned, wiping his upper lip clean.

My eyes narrowed in suspicion as I set my cup down.
“Has something happened to implicate Kevin?”

He set his cup next to mine. “Tests showed that Tom
was hit in the back of the head with an oar.”