Clint Faraday Mysteries collection A Muddled Murders Collector's Edition (2 page)

She had been apprehensive when she moved
here. It was an impulse and she acted on impulse far too much of
the time. She had seen the lushness of the place and the calmness
and the openness. The people were exactly as they appeared here and
she was so sick and tired of the phoniness of “modern society” in
the states she couldn’t stand being there anymore. That was true of
everywhere she had been for her life, starting from an island near
China where her father has instilled a love of nature that had been
the rock that saved her numerous times.

Nature, growing things, particularly exotic
plants, was a refuge. It was a healing place to escape the
sordidity of everyday urban life among sordid phony people. It was
a place where she got her “perspective adjustments” and where she
was close to reality. Here, she wasn’t just close to reality. She
was in the middle of it.

Clint fit and so did she. Jorge and Silvio,
who were passing by on the way to take a couple of those
researchers out to the station fit.

Those researchers didn’t fit. When you look
at reality in a clinical sense you never see anything. There is an
enormous difference in looking at something and seeing something as
there is as great a difference in listening to something and
hearing it.

She
rearranged the orchids on her deck to where the newly-opened
flowers would show. The weird
Dracula vampira
was fully-opened and she could see the little
fanged monkey face inside. She was seriously considering crossing
it with one of the darker
Masdevalias
just coming into bloom.

Clint was going inside. He drank too much
coffee.

She wondered. He was a very sexy man and she
knew he considered her sexy.

No! It would ruin it! They were very close,
really, but that would end up in disaster for both of them because
it always brought things into a relationship. They would always be
close because of what they shared. That must never be any part of
it or the sharing would turn into possession. Neither of them would
ever tolerate being possessed even in a very small way.

She smiled. It was fun to think about. She
knew full-well that Clint thought about it.

She noted the sun was hitting her driftwood.
This early it wouldn’t matter, but she moved it to where it was in
the shade. It was a piece of wood her grandfather had taken from
the roots of a tree a storm had broken off back in Taiwan and given
to her father, who passed it on to her. To most it was an
interesting piece of wood in a very interesting Oriental urn-vase.
To her it was part of her heritage. Little things like that meant
something to her.

She went inside to fix a breakfast salad of
melon, papaya, pomelo, pineapple....

Donna Dorman saw the boat coming in. She had
come across herself only five minutes before. Dr. Eduard Porth and
Dr. Lydia Graham.

Dr. Porth was alright, but Graham was
something else. What would she say if she knew what Donna found
while doing a search for background in the case she was to act as a
witness for the prosecution on?

Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with the
missing funds and maybe they hadn’t found a definite embezzler of
those funds, but it very well could have a connection!

It bothered her that Porth could also be
involved in that. So could Dr. Goodwin and/or Dr. Franklin. Or even
that Lum woman who was working with them, though she had probably
given them much of the funds they were spending. It could be a
ruse. Dr. Marcos might be in it.

She hoped not. She had always liked Judi. She
liked her enthusiasm. She liked Marcos, a little.

There were others. That’s what made it so
difficult. She was working in a sort of undercover way to help find
what was going on. Gloria and Marco were helping the doctors off
the boat. She received the summons to appear as a witness just
yesterday afternoon, but that wouldn’t strike anyone as unusual
because most of them would be called. What she had to say was
another story!

Maybe she’d get that retired detective to do
a bit of digging. He would at least know where and how to look. He
had been on some moderately big cases in the states and had solved
a murder that made the tabloids – as had his involvement with those
two models. At the same time. And they knew – actually more than
knew – about....

That was tabloid trash. She couldn’t accept
it as truth, really, but he just grinned and said life could be fun
if you didn’t take it seriously.

Speaking of tabloid trash, DOCTOR Lydia
Graham was just getting off the boat at the dock. Bitch! She had
Gloria carrying her crud. Like it would break her arm to carry a
five pound briefcase herself!

The boat left.

Donna went to the comp and sent an e-mail to
Clint Faraday, Private Detective.

There was an incoming e-mail that most of the
big-turds from the institute would be there just after noon.

Crap! Another fun day in paradise!

Sunrise

Clint dressed and decided to walk into town.
It was going to be a nice enough morning. It would rain later, but
that was no big deal. It was a warm friendly rain.

He was just going out the door when he heard
the comp ding, so there was an e-mail.

Should he get it now?

No. It was probably spam or someone who heard
he was an ex-detective and would try to get him to find out who
some husband/wife’s girlfriend/boyfriend was so they could stick it
to their ever-lovin’ at the divorce. He had never done divorce and
never would.

Maria Juarez was passing and they talked for
a few minutes. She had recently married and knew a lot of people
knew they had been close, but she also knew he would never bring it
up. He remained friends with people he had slept with because they
knew he wasn’t going to get serious and that he would never speak
of it to anyone. He had a strange code about married or even
promised women. He would enjoy a romp with most people who wanted
one, but not if they had made a commitment. It was wrong, not
because of any stupid religious or legal tenet, but because it was
wrong.

Clint Faraday had a simple and basic code.
There were no grey areas. He lived strictly by that code. Maria
would always be a friend, but never again a lover.

Maria worked one day a week with the
institute and said there was going to be trouble there because
someone had discovered embezzlement, but they couldn’t find who was
doing it. At first it had been a few hundred dollars, but there
seemed to be something else and it could get into the hundreds of
thousands. Everyone was talking about it, but no one knew who had
found and reported it.

They soon said their goodbyes and Clint
walked on toward Bocas Town, as the people here called Bocas del
Toro Town. Bobby Longstreet came out from his place with someone
Clint didn’t know. They went their separate ways and Bobby came to
walk with Clint.

“
Student
backpacker?” Clint asked. “You know to tell me it’s none of my
damned business.”

“
Yes.
From Denmark. It was a nice night.”

Bobby was gay. He was generally selective and
was a good friend to have. He was always first to help anyone who
needed help.

“
What’s
going on at the institute? Heard anything?” Clint asked.

“
Well,
Marco said something is definitely going on there. Someone was
doing some kind of cost-effective study or something and found
there was some kind of crooked deal with that land the institute
bought on Popa.”

“
Popa?
Isn’t that ROP? Why would they even consider it seeing the
government would help them with that kind of thing and besides,
there are thousands of square miles of preserve that have
everything you can find on Popa and they already have access to all
that.”

“
Exactly.”

Clint grinned his ever-ready grin. “I
see.”

“
You busy
tonight?” Bobby asked with his own grin. “You know how you drive me
crazy! I could stop fooling around if you would give me a tumble!
Swear!”

Clint laughed. “I don’t know. I have some
things that might tie me up.”

“
You
could tie me up if you go for that!” They laughed and joked about
sex all the way into Bocas Town.

Clint thought a bit about the deal Bobby
mentioned. He tended to wonder a little about it. The real estate
people gathered at The Golden Grill before going to their offices
so he dropped in to sit with them. He was popular around most of
the people on Isla Colón so was invited to join most such
gatherings. This one was six agents from four agencies.

He was
able to slip in a question about the mess at the institute. They
had heard there was some kind of deal about darklands land that was
nothing more than a typical “
Fantastic Opportunity for Investment
in a swamp” scam they should
have known about. The Goldman Agency handled it and they weren’t
usually included in the group at The Grill. They were considered
just a mite shady. Clint let the subject get changed almost
immediately. He knew there was something there and that was all he
wanted. He chatted for a few minutes, then went to the docks to get
a water taxi to take him to Popa. Silvio was there so he took that
boat and was able to talk a bit about the deal with the institute.
Silvio hadn’t heard much, but had taken Dr. Beckman and Dr. Marcos
out a couple of times about a month ago.

“
Dr.
Graham saw you this morning and got all hot over you,” Silvio said.
“We sort of put her on, as you say. She thinks you sleep with
anyone who will give you the time – even men.”

Clint laughed. “I refuse to deny anything! I
will deny sleeping with married women, so she’s out of luck if
she’s married.”

“
I don’t
think so,” Silvio replied, smirking. “I would have great pity for
the man married to that one!

”
She kept
on about maricónes. She heard people talking and thought they said
‘maricón’ when they said ‘malecon’ or something such. That’s what
brought it up with you.”

“
So! Go
to the malecon to meet a maricón! Is that why you’re always hanging
around the docks?” They joked about misunderstood words all the way
to Popa, where Silvio showed him the piece of land the institute
had been interested in.

“
Cripes,
man! That’s in the preserve, isn’t it?” Clint asked. “Nobody would
fall for that much of a scam!”

“
Maybe if
they were part of the scam?”

“
It would
seem! No sense in wasting the day here. I have what I
want.”

“
Well,
we’re here. Want to spend some time getting to know each other
better?” He was trying not to laugh out loud.

“
Okay.
Depends on which end of the stick you want to get to know,” Clint
answered, innocently. “If I’m pitching and you’re catching, I
might!” They joked all the way back to Isla Colón.

Clint decided to get in some few groceries
before heading back home. He ran into the group of doctors as they
were leaving the almacen counter, so stopped to greet them.

“
We were
heading out to the station wanted to take a few-odd things because
(Dr.) Alice (Beckman) and I will probably stay on out there for a
few days,” (Dr.) Enzio (Marcos) explained. “Seems every time we
stay we have to bring stuff that should be there anyhow. And food,
of course.

“
Oh, yes!
Clint! You haven’t met Dr. Goodwin or Dr. Franklin, have you? Allen
Goodwin and Ben Franklin – and no cutesy remarks, please – this is
Clint Faraday, our local cop show hero.”

Clint shook hands with the two and Alice
dropped her purse. A few things spilled out and Clint quickly
picked them up and handed the purse to her. She nodded at him and
they went out toward the docks. Clint had picked up the receipt to
shove it back in the purse and had as much as memorized it. He had
a photographic memory. It seemed normal enough. Eggs, some canned
goods, some cheese, paring knife, matches, baking soda, potato
peeler, some flour, some sugar, some cinnamon. A normal list. Each
item was listed for the institute because they paid at the end of
the month.

The doctors went on and Clint went inside.
Sylvia Goldman was just leaving and he said “hello!” to her. He
noted that there was a definite similarity between her and Dr.
Beckman.

Oh, yeah. Goldman, Beckman. Jewish racial
traits. Here where the traits were so different you sometimes get
to thinking everyone not like the locals looks alike. That one is
Spanish, that one has some black traits, that one is mostly Indio.
Those are Europeans, so they all look alike except hair color and
weight and height, of course. He mustn’t get into that trap if he
was going to do any detecting.

Hell! He was retired, so he wasn’t getting
into any detecting. Unless it was a puzzle that needed solving,
which he could never resist. Or if the local cops or friends asked
him to look at something. It was something to do and this
embezzlement thing had some very glaring inconsistencies where the
general kind of thing followed a pattern.

There was a pattern here, but what was it?
Like the traits, he was letting the local flavor and attitude screw
up the way he looked at things.

THAT had to stop!

Clint went to Judi’s place after putting the
groceries away, but she wasn’t around so he went fishing. He
puttered around for most of the day, then remembered the e-mail so
deleted fourteen spams and read two messages. Donna, from the
institute, wanted him to look into the people at the institute and
Dr. Goodwin wanted to meet with him tomorrow if it was okay. It was
about Enzio saying he was a cop or something such and he didn’t
think the local gendarmes could handle what was most probably a
strictly white-collar crime. After all, this wasn’t Panama
City.