The Turtle Mound Murder (25 page)

* * *

Five adults in
a five-by-ten foot
space that was already half-filled with beach paraphernalia made
for mighty close quarters. Too close for my taste, since one of the
group was Zack. I wormed my way between Ruthie and Penny Sue for
cover. Charlotte wedged herself against Zack, probably for the same
reason. Penny Sue had been giving Charlotte scathing looks
throughout the whole ordeal. Outside, we heard the television come
on, tuned to the Weather Channel. Gino was doubtlessly checking
Lizzie’s status; I made out Dr. Steve’s muffled voice through the
wall. Though I strained to hear, I could only understand one
phrase, Level One. Gino must have been satisfied, because the loud
banging of closets and drawers started immediately, drowning out
the news on the storm.

“What’s going on here?” Zack broke our
silence.

Penny Sue glared at Charlotte. “Yes, Ms.
Associate’s Associate, what
is
going on? How are you
connected to Lyndon Fulbright?”

Charlotte drew back, her bottom lip
quivering. “None of this was supposed to happen. Rick and I were
simply trying to make enough money to run away. Now he’s dead, and
…” She started to cry.

“Rick?’ I asked. “I thought Al was talking
about Stink—, er Clarence Smith.”

Charlotte wiped her cheeks with the back of
her had. “I don’t know a Clarence Smith.”

“Amazing,” Penny Sue drawled sarcastically.
“You seem to know every other man in town.”

“Wait,” Zack interrupted, patting the air
imperiously. “This is no time for a cat fight.”

“Cat fight? No, you wait,” I snapped,
squaring my shoulders. “That sexist remark was completely
uncalled-for. We wouldn’t be stuck in this closet—probably to
die—if it weren’t for your pig-headedness.”

“Pig-headedness?” he countered with the
cocky smirk I’d come to loathe.

“Yes, pig-headedness. If you hadn’t acted
like a pompous ass, you’d be on the outside—in a position to save
our lives. The big lawyer that Swindal sent down to save Penny Sue
has botched it royally. Instead of saving the day, you’ve sealed
our doom, and you’re going down with the ship.

“All of your sleazy shenanigans have come to
naught—fooling around with the stripper, stealing our money, taking
half the stuff in the house—”

I turned to Ruthie, “All the top sheets, no
bottoms. Half of every set of china. One twin bed from Zack, Jr.’s
room. The bookcase—dumped the books on the floor—from Ann’s
bedroom.”

Ruthie and Charlotte glared at Zack with
revulsion.

The veins in Zack’s neck bulged, and he
tapped his chest with his fist. “Me sleazy? What about you? Judge
Nugent’s put the property settlement on hold, called for an
independent audit and reevaluation of everything. You did that.
It’s all your fault. How did you get to him, Becky?”

“I hope they find the money you hid in the
Caymans, so the kids will get it and not your stripper.” The words
were out and I meant them. Yet, the victory, if there was one, was
hollow. I leaned against the wall and shook my head—disgusted with
Zack, disgusted with myself. Here we were, locked in a closet for,
probably, the few remaining moments of our lives and we were
arguing over money. Sick. It was stupid and sick.

Penny Sue came to my rescue. “Leigh has
friends in high places,” she stated crisply. “And, since this is my
closet, and it appears we may all be here for quite a while, I
suggest we clear some space so we can at least sit down.”

For the second time that day Zack Stratton
acquiesced without an argument. In a matter of minutes, we’d
shifted most of the stuff on the floor to the shelves at the back
of the closet. In the process, Zack found a full bottle of Wild
Turkey. Penny Sue unceremoniously plopped on the floor, unscrewed
the top of the bourbon and took a hearty swallow. Then, she offered
the bottle to Ruthie, who was twitching with fear. “Take a sip,
sugar. It’ll calm your nerves.”

Ruthie accepted the bottle with shaking
hands and turned it up. She sputtered and gagged at the harsh
taste, yet managed to keep the liquor down. To my amazement she
took a second gulp before passing the bottle to Zack. He took a
swig, as did Charlotte. I chose to abstain—someone had to keep
their wits, even though the situation seemed hopeless. There was no
doubt in my mind that Al would never let us go. Our only chance was
that someone would come looking for us before Al and Gino found the
money or gave up the search.

“What’s going on here?” Zack asked again.
“If I’m going to die, I’d like to know why. Who are those guys, and
what’s this about two murders?”

Penny Sue stared down Zack and took another
swallow of the Wild Turkey. “This is my closet, I get to go first.
What is going on?” she pointedly asked Charlotte.

Charlotte stared at her lap to avoid Penny
Sue’s glare. “I’m so sorry—it’s my fault. My marriage was never
very good and got a lot worse after Pete had his accident. He was
laid up for a long time, and couldn’t,” she glanced up sheepishly,
“well, you know. I got tired of staying home night after night with
no affection, so I found a job as a waitress at The Riverview. Pete
didn’t care—he was gooned out on painkillers most of the time. The
job got me out of the house at night, and the money came in
handy—we have lots of medical bills. No insurance. Pete and I will
never live to pay off all of those damned bills, because of his
damned motorcycle.

“Rick came into the restaurant one night,
and we hit it off immediately. He was so good looking. Anyway, he
was new to town and lonely like me. One thing led to another, I had
a key to this condo, and before you knew it, we were having an
affair.”

Penny Sue’s jaw dropped. “You used my
father’s condo for a love nest?”

Charlotte shrugged. “No one ever came here.
We figured it wouldn’t hurt anything.”

“When did you and Rick start dealing drugs?”
I asked. Like Zack, if I was going to die, I wanted to know
why.

“Not right away. At first, I didn’t know
what Rick did. He knew I needed money, so eventually he offered to
cut me in. He’d been in the business for a while, down in South
Florida. He was the middleman for Al and a Caribbean drug cartel.
Rick moved up here after a big drug bust in Miami. Several of his
friends had been nabbed, and he figured he might be next. Besides,
he could work anywhere as long as there was a beach. The guys from
the Caribbean brought the stuff in on boats at night and they’d
bury the merchandise at a predetermined location and stake it off
to make it look like a turtle nest. Rick would dig up the drugs,
put the payment in its place, and stash the stuff here. I’d pick up
the merchandise and deliver it to one of Al’s men. It was Rick’s
idea to spread everything around. That way, if one side of the
triangle was nabbed, the others wouldn’t be implicated.”

Penny Sue took a mouthful of bourbon and
passed the bottle to Zack, who seemed as stunned as she was by the
confession. “Mercy, you were using Daddy’s place to stash drugs,
too!”

“Rick said it was the perfect setup—no one
would ever suspect anything was going on in a judge’s condo.”

“My gawd,” Penny Sue exclaimed, her hand
automatically covering her heart. “Daddy will die when he finds
out.”

I wanted to say, that’s the least of our
worries, but didn’t. Some color had returned to Ruthie’s cheeks
which was reassuring. “So, Lyndon’s in league with Al?” I
asked.

“No. Lyndon doesn’t know anything about
Al.”

“What were you doing with Lyndon’s phone
number?” Penny Sue demanded.

Charlotte averted her eyes. “I met Lyndon at
The Riverview, and we dated a few times.”

Penny Sue’s eyes shot darts. “Dated?”

“That’s how I found out about Lyndon’s
obsession for turtle eggs. He thinks they’re an aphrodisiac and
natural Viagra.” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Zack
looked sidelong. “Lyndon’s chef, Thomas, uses them in everything.
Wow, you should taste pancakes made with turtle eggs, they’re the
best I’ve ever eaten. So light and fluffy…”

“Pancakes,” Penny Sue muttered, fuming. The
fact that Charlotte had stayed over to have breakfast came through
loud and clear.

Charlotte ignored Penny Sue and went on. “I
arranged for Rick to supply Lyndon with turtle eggs.”

I rummaged in my pocket for the note.
200
@ 6. Same time, same place.
I held the note for the group to
see. “This was an order for turtle eggs?”

Charlotte nodded. “I’d leave egg orders in
the bureau drawer for Rick. Lyndon insisted on keeping his
distance.”

“What a sleazy thing to do,” Ruthie spoke
for the first time. “Rick robbed turtle nests to supply a horny,
old man?”

“It was better than throwing the eggs away.
Most times Rick would dig up the nest and tell the drug runners to
bury the stash in the same place. That way, there would never be a
link between Rick and the record for the turtle nest. By selling
the eggs to Lyndon, they weren’t wasted.”

“What a hypocrite! Rick was on the Turtle
Patrol and robbing the nests?” Ruthie said disgustedly. “That’s too
much.”

I looked at Ruthie, amazed by her thinking;
of course, the two big swigs of bourbon might have had something to
do with it. Yet, of all the things to key on—hypocrisy. Rick had
committed numerous felonies, and she was outraged that he was
two-faced. Two-faced! A coin with two heads, Pauline had said that.
Though, Pauline couldn’t have meant Rick, who was already dead by
that time. Lyndon had certainly been two-faced, and so had Al, for
that matter.

“Who killed Rick?” I asked.

Charlotte teared up. “I don’t know. It could
have been another dealer trying to cut in on his territory. That’s
what I thought until a few minutes ago when you admitted to having
the merchandise. That’s why I called Al—I was afraid he would think
I was pulling a double cross. I arranged for him to rent the condo
next door. I clean that unit, too.”

“Who killed Stink—Clarence?” Penny Sue
asked.

Charlotte hung her head, tears streaming
now. “I don’t know, but I heard the shot. While you were out with
Lyndon, I came over here to search for the note. Lyndon was
terrified of being implicated for turtle egg poaching.”

I remembered the article Ruthie read aloud
from the newspaper. “Of course—it’s a felony.”

“Right. I was searching the linen
closet—”

“You took the Taser gun,” I exclaimed,
pointing.

“No. I didn’t know what it was. In fact, I
was examining the thing when I heard the gun shot. I was so scared,
I dropped the Taser and ran. I went straight to Lyndon’s yacht and
told Chef Thomas that I hadn’t found the note and wasn’t going to
look again. No way I was going to stick around and get killed like
Rick.”

“Do you suppose Al killed Stinky?” Ruthie
asked, the color draining from her face.

Charlotte shook her head. “It wasn’t Al. He
was at The Riverview waiting for Gino to arrive. That’s why I’m
here. Al saw me coming out of Lyndon’s yacht and grabbed me. I’ve
been next door with them since. After you left and the storm kicked
up, we saw our chance to search your condo.”

“If Al didn’t do it, who did?” Ruthie
demanded.

“Pauline said we were in danger from a
light-haired man. What else did she say?” Penny Sue asked.

“Who’s Pauline?” Zack interrupted.

“A psychic.” Zack rolled his eyes.

“A coin with two heads, and shiny wheels
spinning,” I continued. “The two-headed coin definitely means
two-faced.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Penny Sue shot a
look at Charlotte and Zack. “Almost everyone we’ve met has been
two-faced, including Lyndon.” She scowled at the younger woman.
“Was he sucking up to me just to get that incriminating order?”

Charlotte flinched. “I-I … don’t know. I
told him who you were.”

“The first night? Did he know who I was that
first night at The Riverview? Did he know then?”

Charlotte drew back defensively. “I passed
him a note telling him you were staying in the condo,” she
admitted.

“Which explains the weird maneuver about
having to close out his old tab and start a new one because the
shift had changed.” Penny Sue squeezed the neck of the bottle,
undoubtedly wishing it was Lyndon’s neck. “I knew it didn’t make
sense, because you were still our waitress. Right after that, my
drinks seemed awfully strong. He was trying to get me drunk so he
could drive me home and retrieve the evidence!” Her face twisted
with rage. “Y’all weren’t slipping me G, that date rape drug?”

Charlotte ducked her head. “No! I had the
bartender pour you doubles.”

“I thought so.” Penny Sue took another swig
of the bourbon and laughed. “I foiled you because I can hold my
liquor, and I had friends there to drive me home.” She smiled at us
triumphantly. “All of the rush from Lyndon was simply to get an egg
order? What a two-faced, sleaze! He killed Stinky,” she
declared.

I looked askance. “Why do you say that?”

“Because Lyndon wanted to spend the night
with me; I said no.” She reared back dramatically. “So, he waited
around until we went to sleep, planning to sneak in and steal the
order. He surprised Stinky on the deck, there was a struggle, and
Lyndon shot him.”

“Come on, Penny Sue, Lyndon wouldn’t do
that,” I argued. “First, he’s a man who pays people to do things
for him—he doesn’t do anything for himself.” I glared at Zack, who
undoubtedly got my drift. “Secondly, he’d already arranged for
Charlotte to search the place while we were at
Rocky Horror
.
For all Lyndon knew, she’d found the slip of his stationery.”

Penny Sue brightened. “You’re right. He
really wanted to sleep with me.” She smirked at Charlotte.

“Who did kill Stinky then?” Ruthie
asked.

“Gawd, Ruthie, can’t you do some voodoo or
something and find out?” Penny Sue drawled.