Pier Pressure (34 page)

Punt parked behind my office and we entered quietly before I snapped on the overhead light. It was past eleven and I hoped Gram would he in bed with her ear plugs in place. I headed straight for the kitchen. Yes. The blossom lay in the dish on the countertop near the sink. I snapped on another lamp and placed the dish directly under it.

“It's a lavender all right,” Punt agreed. “It's withered, but the petals are still wide and there's no mistaking the special color.”

“So now we know Shandy's the killer.”

“We
know,” Punt agreed, “but we still have no way of proving it to the police. Besides that, the police really hate accepting help or ideas from private investigators.”

Thirty-Four

“DO YOU HAVE an envelope, Keely? I want to take this blossom to my office and put it in my safe.”

I brought an envelope from my desk and Punt carefully placed the blossom inside it and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

“Keely, what was it you wanted to do before you face the police tomorrow?”

“I need to go back to Beau's home again. Should we call him first? I don't want to bother him, but I hate barging in unannounced.”

“Going to reveal the nature of this mission?”

“Not yet. Humor me, okay?”

Punt used my desk phone to dial Beau's number and I heard the phone ringing. After six rings, he replaced the receiver. “Nobody home. Or maybe he's not answering.”

“He does that sometimes? Ignores the ring?” I couldn't imagine anyone with such a lack of curiosity. When my phone rings, it's like a command performance. I rush to answer.

Punt nodded. “Beau's always said that telephones are for his convenience, not his inconvenience.”

“He doesn't have an answering machine?”

“No—says if it's important the caller will call back. Sometimes if he's writing, or trying to sleep, he turns the phone off. I think his column's due tomorrow. He may be home writing. Or he may be out for the evening.”

“I need to go there now. We don't need to bother him. Don't need to go inside, but I need to check one more important thing. Probably another circumstantial evidence thing, but if we come up with enough of them, maybe they'll catch Shandy in their web.”

“Okay. We'll go there, but first let's put this blossom in the agency safe.”

We drove down the alley to Whitehead Street and then along narrow streets until we reached Fotopoulos & Ashford.
Vandals had broken the street light and total darkness surrounded the parking slots.

“Be back in a sec, Keely.”

“No way am I waiting here alone.” I slid from the car.

“Shandy really has you spooked, right?” Punt took my hand. “Or are you making excuses for more togetherness?”

“Maybe both. You got a problem with that?”

“No problem. No problem at all. You don't have to make excuses for togetherness. I'd like it to be our way of life.”

When Punt locked his car, I knew he felt as uneasy as I did in the blackness surrounding us. Keeping a firm grip on his hand, I followed him as we made our way across the broken concrete sidewalk to his door.

I screamed as I sensed a movement at our feet and heard a guttural voice muttering unintelligible words. Punt jumped hack, pulling me with him, and I felt a bone-crushing tension in his hand before he relaxed.

“Okay. buddy. Move on. Now. Move on.”

My eyes were growing used to the darkness, and I could make out a long-haired and shaggy-whiskered man huddled in the doorway. He managed to haul himself to his feet, sending the odor of stale beer into the air.

“Who are you?” He looked at us through bleary eyes. “Getting so a guy can't get no sleep anymore. Gonna report you to the cops. Disturbin' the peace.”

“You do that, buddy. Let me know what they say.”

We waited while the drunk stumbled off into the night. Punt fumbled with his keys for a few seconds before he managed to unlock the door and turn on the lights.

I squinted into the sudden brightness, realizing immediately that the light made us targets for anyone who might be watching. Shandy? Did Shandy ever skulk around this area? I felt someone watching us, or maybe it was my imagination.

“This place scares the bejabbers out of me at night, Punt.”

“I'll call City Electric about getting that street light fixed tomorrow.”

Punt hurried to the safe, turned the knob until the door opened, then laid the blossom in the safe's green interior and relocked the door.

“Let's get out of here,” he said. “This'll be a safer place once Nikko and Moose move in.”

I agreed. We returned to the car and drove back to the bright lights of Duval Street.

“I'll give Dad another ring.” Punt keyed in Beau's number, but the ringing went unanswered. “Well, we'll drive there anyway. How long will your mission take once we get there?”

“A very few minutes. A few important minutes.”

We drove to Grinnell, parked in front of the house, and hurried to the porch. Although no car sat in the carport, Punt knocked on the door to announce our presence. No answer. I knocked again to make sure nobody was home.

“Now what?” Punt asked.

I turned and stood at the top of the porch steps. “Stand here beside me and look toward Ashford Mansion,
the widow's walk. From this cattycorner angle, I see five white lights on one side and five on the other side—one of them being green.”

“Right,” Punt said. “That's what Shandy said she saw last Saturday night.”

“Only she said she saw the lights from the pier. Here's where she saw them. Right here—after she shot Margaux and had started to leave the porch. You know Shandy's compulsion for counting. Even after killing another human being, she couldn't help taking time to count the widow's walk lights, to notice that one of them glowed green.”

“I believe your theory.” Punt squeezed my hand. “Again, it's circumstantial evidence. We have no witnesses.”

Just then Beau pulled into the carport and a moment later joined us on the porch. “What's up, people? Anything I can help you with?”

Beau invited us inside and again he avoided the sitting room and led us to his study. We sat around his desk while he listened to our story, nodding at appropriate moments, shaking his head at others.

“I think your theories are right, Keely,” Beau said. “I believe Shandy's the killer.” For a moment he rested his head in his hands, then he looked up, and when he spoke again, his voice seemed to come from a great distance and through a heavy veil of weariness. “As you realize, you/we have no witnesses to prove a case against her.”

“So what do we do now?” Punt asked.

“You're the detective,” Beau said. “Maybe you and Nikko need to talk. Sometimes four heads are better than three. Nikko may have some good ideas.”

“I wish you and Nikko would be with me when I face Detective Curry's questions tomorrow, Punt,” I said.

“That might be unwise,” Punt said. “The police hate to accept P.I. help. They'd see our presence as interference.”

“Maybe you need a lawyer,” Beau said. “I could get someone from Hubble & Hubble
to represent you.”

“At one time Detective Curry said his questions were informal, that unless they placed me under arrest, I didn't need a lawyer. Maybe if I appeared with a lawyer, Curry would see it as an admission of guilt.”

“I don't know,” Beau said, “but if Curry should place you under arrest, don't say another word. From that time on, you can bet the police are trying to trip you up, to make you say something incriminating. That's the time to call me, or better yet, call Hubble & Hubble
and ask them to send someone to represent you. I'll phone Harley first thing in the morning and alert him to the possibility of a summons from you.”

Beau's words helped ease my fears. I didn't want to dial his number only to find I'd chosen a time when he'd turned his phone off.

“Thanks, Beau. I really appreciate your concern. It gives me confidence to know I have your backing.”

“We'd better be going, Dad. I'm glad you're on our side and sorry we don't have some witnesses to back up our suspicions.”

“Maybe Shandy'll do or say something that'll tip her hand,” Beau said.

“I'm not counting on it,” Punt said. “But Nikko and I'll keep her under surveillance starting tonight. We'll take turns. We'll know every move she makes, every place she goes. We'll be on her like paint on a wall. I wish we could get permission to tap her phone.”

“I'm fairly sure that's illegal,” Beau said, “but maybe with just cause it might be possible. Want me to check with Hubble?”

Punt nodded. “Sure. See what he says. Right now, I need to get Keely home, need to talk to Nikko and put a surveillance plan in motion.”

I sensed an urgency in the way Punt drove to Duval Street and pulled up in front of my office. I made no motion to open the car door or to get out and neither did he. He leaned toward me, taking my hand in both of his.

“This isn't the way I wanted our evening to end, Keely. I dreamed of a quiet, undisturbed time at my place. Key lime pie. Coffee. Soft music. And you in my arms—and maybe in my bed.”

“Me and a piece of key lime pie?”

“Don't make jokes. I'm very serious. I lost you once and I don't want that to happen again.”

“I'm not making jokes. I'm sorry Shandy's intruded in our lives. She's a killer. We can't really enjoy ourselves until she's been brought to justice.”

“I like what you're saying.”

“About bringing Shandy to justice? Well, I should hope so.”

“My thinking goes beyond Shandy. I like the part about us enjoying ourselves. I like hearing those words from your lips. Once this case is behind us, I wish we could start a new relationship from square one. We do have a relationship, Keely, a tentative relationship, perhaps, but definitely a relationship.”

“Yes, we do have a relationship of sorts—maybe one based more on business than pleasure.”

“So my next step will be to get it based more on pleasure than on business. That's my goal.”

“I don't know. We're different people now than we were at square one. Very different. We're both carrying a lot of excess baggage involving a horror of a marriage for me, drug and alcohol addiction for you. We've both been through bad times that'll be hard to forget.”

“Maybe we shouldn't try to forget.” Punt tightened his grip on my hand. “Maybe we should put all our baggage right out front, look at it carefully, and try to learn from it as we move on. We've both changed. We've known good times. We've known bad times. Maybe we're back to facing good times again.”

“You may be right. I hope so.”

“Do you really?” He pulled me to him and began a kiss that threatened to turn into something we couldn't handle within the confines of the Karmann Ghia. After a long time, I reluctantly pulled myself from his embrace.

“I love you, Keely. I've always loved you.”

“And I love you, too, Punt.” Warmth flooded over me as I said those words, a warmth I hoped would last forever.

“That's all we need to know for now. All we need is each other.”

“I must go in now, Punt. It's been a strange evening, a scary evening, a wonderful evening.”

“I vote for wonderful.” Punt helped me from the car and waited until I was safely inside before we shared a farewell kiss that left us both trembling and reluctant to part.

“I'm going up to Nikko's apartment now to talk to him about Shandy. We'll see to it that she's brought to justice and that she doesn't harm you before that time. Remember, you have any trouble with Curry tomorrow, you call Hubble & Hubble.”

“Right. I'll remember.” I hated ending our evening on that grim note. I admitted to myself that I'd have rather seen it end in Punt's bed—without the key lime pie.

Thirty-Five

AFTER PUNT LEFT, I double-checked both my office and apartment doors, making sure they were locked. A long shower helped relax me and I was about to crawl into bed when I heard a knock at my door. I sighed. I thought I'd managed to come home without waking Gram, but no. I slipped on my robe as I hurried to the door.

“Gram?”

“Keely. Need to talk.”

I never doubted the voice was Gram's until I opened the door and faced Shandy holding a gun pointed at my heart. Surprise and fear left me open-mouthed and speechless. No matter. Shandy controlled the conversation—and my life. So much for Punt and Nikko's surveillance. Maybe they hadn't had time to form a plan. Maybe they'd gone to their office.

“Come with me. Come quietly. Now.” Shandy had lost her littl
e-
girl voice and her tone held authority—authority backed with a gun.

“Where're we going?” My voice rasped with fear, anger, terror.

“Shut up and come. Now.”

As I stalled, my mind began to function. “Let me get dressed, Shandy. People'll wonder why I'm outside barefoot, wearing nothing but this flimsy robe.”

“It's late. Nobody's going to see us. If you think Punt's going to save you, forget that. He left Nikko's place ten minutes ago. My car's nearby. Come.”

I clutched at straws. “You know Gram's probably watching. She doesn't miss much in this neighborhood. If you want things to look natural, you'll let me slip into a jumpsuit. People'd think nothing of seeing us together if we both were dressed and I wore my regular working outfit.”

“I could shoot you this minute.” She raised the gun a bit.

I forced calmness into my voice. “Right, Shandy. You could do that, but a shot would alert lots of people. Even in Key West, folks notice a gunshot, especially one late at night. Please let me get dressed.”

Shandy lowered the gun a fraction of an inch and I thought I saw her hand trembling. What if the gun went off accidentally?