Pier Pressure (32 page)

“Not yet,” Nikko said. “The police can't arrest Shandy because she happens to have a facial scar. They could pull her in for questioning, yes. But arrest? No. They like to feel sure they have a case that'll stand up in court before they make an arrest.”

“They need to be able to prove that she was at the scene of the crime,” Punt said, “that she had stolen your gun, then used it as the murder weapon. We need to think this through carefully, Keely. So far, any evidence we have against Shandy is purely circumstantial.”

“In addition to that, it's flimsy,” Nikko added.

“I made a promise to Mr. Moore—promised to call him if I had any more evidence that might link Shandy to the bank robbery and murder in North Dakota. I'm going to call him; he needs to know what I've seen.”

“I wish you wouldn't call him yet,” Nikko said.

“Why not? What can it hurt?”

“Who knows what he might do with that information? Even though he has this TV show you mentioned, he's an amateur detective at best. He funnels all his info to the police and he might do something that'd accidentally alert Shandy to the fact that she's wanted for questioning in North Dakota. If she's guilty, she may feel cornered. Who knows how she might react?”

Punt nodded in agreement. “Moore's working a cold case. We'll be smart to let it stay cold a few days longer. No harm'll come of that.”

“Okay, if you say so. You guys are the professionals. I'd like to hear what she has to say when you question her in the morning.”

Neither Punt nor Nikko commented on that, and back at Fotopoulos & Ashford,
Punt and I left Nikko's car and got into the Karmann Ghia.

“I need to go home, Punt. It's been a long day and I'm exhausted.”

“Too exhausted to have dinner with me tonight?”

I hesitated and smiled. “No, not that exhausted. But I do need to rest a bit and I've a favor to ask.”

“As usual, your wish's my command.” Punt took my hand and I smiled as I eased it from his grasp.

“Ha! If that were true, we'd be on the phone right now calling Mr. Moore.”

“Okay. Revision. Your second wish's my command.” He took my hand again. “What's the favor?”

This time I didn't pull away. “I want to check out Shandy's alibi. I haven't found time to do that yet and I wish you'd go with me.”

“Afraid?”

“Uneasy. I don't like the idea of walking alone on the pier after dark. That's a dumb thing to do under any circumstances, but especially now with a killer at large. But we can't see those widow's walk lights clearly in the daylight. It scares me to think Shandy may be feeling the dragnet closing in on her, as I feel it closing in on me.”

“Trapped people are dangerous people,” Punt agreed.

“I don't feel dangerous. Vulnerable is a more accurate word. I've the feeling that Shandy's watching me, waiting to see what I'll do next.”

“I'd like to think that what you'll do next is to have dinner with me, a wonderful delicious dinner—perhaps under the stars with a steel band playing in the background as we dance.”

“Not too many steel bands around here, Punt. That's a Caribbean thing. Check in the Bahamas.”

“I read that there's one playing at Mallory
tonight. Musicians came in on the cruise ship and they're setting up at sunset.”

“Cruise ships are supposed to leave at five. Before sunset.”

“You're trying to change the subject.”

“Right. I am and so are you. How can you be thinking about dinner and dancing and steel bands when there's a murderer at large?”

“Okay, then here's plan B. I'll take you home now and pick you up again around seven. How's that?”

“So far, so good. Then we'll go to the pier?”

“Right. It'll be dark by then. We'll walk the whole length of the pier and see if we see what Shandy says she saw last Saturday.”

“If we don't?”

“Then Nikko and I'll have a few more questions to ask her when she comes to our office tomorrow morning.”

“I'll worry about you and Nikko. You can't be sure what Shandy might do. Why not let the police deal with her?”

“Because Beau hired us to investigate this case and we agreed to do that. You wouldn't want us to blow our first big job, would you?”

“If it meant keeping you safe, I would, but thanks for humoring me. We'll check out Shandy's alibi and then we'll have dinner.”

“One more thing,” Punt said. “I want to stop at Jass's shop and buy some of her new hibiscus plants. After her lunch with Beau, I want her to arrive home and find that people are already stopping by to make purchases. That'll be an upper for her. She needn't know I'm the buyer.”

“Will the shop be open for business today?”

Punt nodded. “Consuela agreed to play saleslady for the afternoon and I sent Dad a note, asking him to detain Jass until I had a chance to buy some plants.”

“So let's go. In fact, I could use a plant for my office and one for Gram's shop.”

We headed for Ashford Mansion
and parked near the service door at the greenhouse. Sunlight glinted off the glass roof and I imagined I could hear the plants growing. After we walked to the front porch of the mansion, Consuela appeared in the doorway, wearing a dress that matched the hibiscus blossoms. As usual, she swished and jangled and we could hear her before we entered.

“You have a problem?” she asked.

“No problem.” Punt entered the shop without invitation and chose five plants and set them aside. I tried to set more plants aside, but Punt stopped me. “I'll take care of it, Keely. My pleasure.”

“You raid Jass's stock of plants?” Consuela stood between Punt and the pots as if to protect them.

Punt pulled out his billfold and extracted some bills. “I'm a paying customer, Consuela, and I want you to keep my identity a secret when Jass asks.” He slipped her an extra twenty in exchange for her silence.

“It's a deal, Punt.”

Once back outside, Punt crowded the plants into the small space behind the bucket seats in his car then pulled me to him for a brief kiss before he drove me home. Perhaps the kiss would have been longer had Consuela not been watching.

“Where will you put your three plants?” I asked.

“My office desk. Nikko's office desk. My apartment.”

We drove straight to my office, and Punt helped me carry two plants inside, setting them both on my office desk before he left. “I'll pick you up at seven, okay?”

“Right. I'll be ready.”

I hadn't been inside for five minutes before Gram dropped in, wanting a complete update on my day. I gave it willingly.

“Don't like detective agency idea, Keely. Will miss Nikko upstairs. And Moose. Duval Street no be the same.”

“Right, we'll miss them, but we'll be okay here. Nobody's ever bothered us. The police keep a close watch on Duval Street.”

“Don't like idea. Don't like idea. You be in danger. Someone try to put blame on you—blame for Margaux death.”

“That person wants me to live, to take a murder rap. I'm safe here, Gram. Believe me. We're both safe here.”

Gram scowled. “You thought gun safe here. You wrong. Gun gone. Stolen. Don't like idea.”

I gave her one of the hibiscus plants. “Souvenir of Jass's success, Gram.” Then, while she stood admiring the plant, I nodded toward her shop. “You've got customers. I'll talk to you later.”

Gram left with earrings bobbing and I knew her scowl had turned into a welcoming smile when she faced her customers and began showing off her new plant.

The fragrance of lime and lavender still hung in my office, but it felt stuffy and hot. I opened the front windows and pulled back the drapery behind the CLOSED sign before I hurried to open the rear windows. The fresh air revived me and I stretched out on my bed for a few moments before I closed the front windows again and drew the drapery.

It seemed ages since I'd taken any time to do personal chores. I shampooed my hair and showered before slipping into a terrycloth robe and drying my hair. Pouring myself a glass of iced tea, I made mental notes on what to do first before I began my chores. Laundry. Picking up used towels, I put them in the washer with plenty of detergent and hot water.

I dusted the furniture while the towels swished. After I centered the new hibiscus plant Punt had given me on my desk, I carried a dish with a withered blossom to the kitchen, setting it on the countertop, when someone knocked at my door.

“Sorry, but my office's closed today,” I said to the woman standing outside.

“When will you be open? I've heard a lot about foot reflexology and I want to give it a try.”

“If you'll give me your name, I call you later in the week.”

“We're leaving Key West tomorrow, but we'll be back and I'll stop by then.”

“Please do that. I'm sorry I can't help you today.”

The woman left and I knew I needed to get on with my cleaning. I pulled the vacuum cleaner from the closet and began to attach the hose, a floor brush. My heart's never totally into cleaning, but I gave the floor a good going-over before returning the vacuum to its closet. As I reviewed the day's happenings, uneasiness began to gnaw at my mind.

I'd promised Mr. Moore to call him if I noticed anything unusual about Shandy. I hadn't promised Nikko and Punt I wouldn't call him. I'd merely gone along with their negative suggestion at the time. Maybe they were right. Maybe they weren't right, but a promise is a promise.

I found Mr. Moore's business card and dialed his number before I changed my mind. I heard the phone ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Nobody answered, so I checked his card again. Yes, I'd dialed his business number. I hung up and dialed again. Perhaps I'd made a mistake. No answer. Strange. His office should be open. North Dakota's time was an hour behind Key West time.

I lifted the receiver again and this time I dialed the operator. “Yes. How may I help you?”

I stated my problem. “Can you check to see if the line to Centerville, North Dakota's TV station is operable?”

“Sorry, Miss. An ice storm followed by a blizzard has closed most lines in North Dakota. They may be open tomorrow. Can't say for sure.”

“Thank you.” I hung up, wondering if fate had saved me from myself. I felt somewhat better. At least I'd tried to keep my promise.

I stretched out on my bed again, and this time I dozed, waking only in time to dress for dinner. Again I faced the what-to-wear decision. It wasn't a hard one considering I only had the green silk and an all-purpose white sleeveless. But there's a lot a person can do with basic white. I added a tiny green scarf at the neck, a rope of pearls to match my pearl earrings, and green sandals. I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't aware that the green accents emphasized my green eyes. I hoped Punt would be aware, too.

When Punt arrived, I met him at the door.

“Better grab a sweater. There's always a breeze on that pier.”

“Right.” It pleased me that he'd remembered our plans, not that I'd have let him forget, but it's nice to be able to avoid nagging.

True night covered the island, and Punt pulled me to him for a warm kiss and I welcomed the touch of his lips, lingering over the moment, prolonging it until I sensed Gram watching from her doorway.

“Have good time,” she called after us.

We slipped into the car and once we were into the traffic stream, Punt held my hand until we reached the park near the pier. “It's good to be with you, Keely. I miss you when you're not around.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. “It's good to be missed.”

Punt sighed as we left the car. “You might go so far as to say you missed me, too.”

“Of course I missed you.” I squeezed his hand to give emphasis to my words.

We waited for a break in traffic before we hurried across the street and onto the pier, now closed to vehicles, but open to pedestrians.

“Let's walk quickly to the end of the pier,” Punt said. “Then we can look at the widow's walk lights as we return to the car.”

“Works for me.” The wind had picked up. It always blew a gale out on any pier unprotected by nearby buildings or trees.

“Cold?” Punt asked.

“No. I'm fine.”

“I'll have to drill you on more appropriate lines. You're supposed to say you're freezing, then I have an obligation to put my arm around your waist and pull you close for warmth. Even though you didn't say the right lines, I'll do it anyway.”

I snuggled into his embrace. The pier scares me at night. It's been closed to traffic for several years, but now many pedestrians walk its length after pausing as we did to view and reflect on the AIDS Memorial. Its polished granite slabs are embedded into the concrete and etched with the names of over a thousand AIDS victims. Tonight the memorial glowed with ground-level lights and bouquets of roses and hibiscus.

We walked slowly to the darker end of the pier, at one spot pausing to study a jagged gap where the retaining wall had broken away. Officials had placed wooden barricades around the spot, but tonight high waves crashed through the opening. Punt guided us to the other side of the wetness.

Several men we couldn't see until we were almost upon them stood at the retaining wall on our right, dropping baited hooks into the sea. Some fishermen never give up. Punt steadied me when I tripped on an empty stringer lying at one man's feet. An old woman stood next to him, flinging a net into the water trying to catch bait. The sea foamed and roared and none of them were having much success. Under other circumstances I would never have ventured out here.

We stood in a corner at the end of the pier and I wondered if Punt felt as reluctant as I to turn, to look at the faraway lights, to learn for sure if Shandy had lied about her alibi. While we stood there gazing at the dim lights of a freighter moving slowly across the horizon in the distance, a huge wave closer to shore slapped against the pier, spraying us with cold water.