Dead in the Water (22 page)

“
I need to pay a visit to someone who did me a favor. I never said thanks because I've been so tied up, but I'm sure he'll understand.”

“
You'll want to do this alone.”

“
Yes. Will you stay here and keep an eye on Madeleine?”

“
It's late and you're tired. This will keep until tomorrow.”

“
No it won't. It was a really big favor.”

W
hen I pulled into the airboat parking lot, I could see a light in Grandfather's house. I moved along the path to his place, certain he would be there waiting for me. And he'd forgive my not checking in with him about the store when he heard of Madeleine's return. Who was I kidding? He probably already knew of Madeleine's rescue and of my role in it.

I smelled the tobacco from his pipe. As I got closer I could make out his figure in the old rocker on the porch. Its creak, creak on the floorboards was the only sound in the cold night.

“
Grandfather. Isn't it a little chilly to be sitting out here?”

“
It clears my head from my work in your shop.”

“
I'm sorry. Too much inside work for your taste?”

“
No. Too many women.”

“
I thought you liked that about this job.”

“
I like the women, but I can't stand the scent of them. Too much phony fragrance. My nose got tired. I could hardly wait until I left and came home to light up my pipe and smell the good clean aroma of tobacco.”

“
I thought you might appreciate these.” I handed him a box.

He opened it and sniffed at the contents. “Oh. Chocolates. My favorites, dark with coconut.” He selected one and offered me the box.

“
No. They're for you. Don't let Sammy eat too many. I'd pay you for your hours at the store, but I know you wouldn't take it. You've been truly kind.”

He smacked on his candy with gusto, took another and popped it into his mouth. When he finished with it, he closed the box and set it on the floor within reach.

“
I knew something was happening, and that it was important. Why wouldn't I help?” He paused, and I could just make out the whites of his eyes as they fixed on me. “I understand Madeleine is safe.”

“
Yes, she is.”

“
Did I hear someone mention my name?” Sammy stepped out onto the porch, his tall angular frame backlit by the kerosene lantern on the kitchen table when he opened the door.

Grandfather scooted the chocolate box under his chair with his foot. “Eve came for a visit and to thank me for helping all those ladies find the best clothes for themselves.”

“
She also brought you chocolates. I can smell them. Don't worry. I won't take them.”

I smiled to myself. Sammy was like his grandfather in so many ways. Nothing got by him.

“
I need to talk with you, Sammy.”

Grandfather got up from his chair, picked up the chocolates and headed into the house. “I'll leave you two to plot whatever it is Eve now wants to plot.”

I heard a chuckle as he closed the door behind him.

“
The cold has chased the mosquitoes away. Like to take a walk down by the canal?”

I nodded and took his arm. He seemed to accept my touch as the friendly gesture I intended.

I got right to it. “No one has seen the Hardy brothers around since the fire, and Frida tells me it was arson. I've been so wrapped up in my own troubles with money and with Madeleine's kidnapping, I haven't thought much about them, but I imagine they're still on your mind.”

We stopped by the chickee and he pulled two stools out from under the counter.

“
Sit. I wish I had something warm to offer you.”

“
No, that's fine. You can offer me your opinion on a number of things. That will keep me warm.”

“
Sure.” He settled onto the stool.

“
You told me the Hardy brothers were into transporting people in and out of the swamps. What do you make of that?”

“
I can't prove anything, but I think they were picking up illegal aliens at a drop-off spot in the swamp and taking them up the river to another location where the ‘cargo' was transferred and carried north by truck.”

“
This was their operation?”

He laughed. “You give them too much credit. They were working for someone, someone big, someone not from around here.”

I nodded. “Maybe, just maybe they were given a second job for the same folks.”

“
Go ahead.”

“
My uncle was carrying drop-off money for the family that employed him, really the one that owned him. Winston came to my friend Nappi because he wanted to retire. He was tired of the life. He had his own family, children in trouble that he needed to see to, and a woman he cared about. Nappi arranged with Winston's mob bosses to do a final big money drop, here in the swamps. I'll bet it was to the Hardy brothers.”

“
Okay, but why did your uncle dump it in the swamp? Why not just hand it off in some inconspicuous way to the Hardys?”

“
He didn't drop the Hardy's money in the swamp. He had that money in another duffel, which he placed at his feet. He dropped a ransom payment, his own money to pay the kidnappers, in the swamp. Someone took it before the kidnappers could pick it up.”

“
He was carrying a considerable sum of money then?”

“
A total of one million, all in cash, in two separate duffel bags, half a million of the mob's money for the Hardys' and half a million of his own money for the kidnappers. And like the one dropped in the swamp, the bag for the Hardys never made it into their hands. At least that's what I think.”

“
So, they couldn't come up with the money they were supposed to take care of. Ah, now I get it. The people they worked for were furious, wanted the money and threatened them.”

“
Yeah, but the money was gone. What could the Hardys do?”

“
Not much.”

“
They didn't see it that way. I think they were the ones who ran me off the road and threatened me. Then they tried to find the money at my uncle's condo. That's why they were at the funeral and the get-together after. I found them rummaging through the bedrooms. They did nothing for a while, something their bosses didn't think well of. The bosses wanted action, so they decided to light a fire under the brothers, to remind them of the kind of people they worked for. They burned the airboat and produce stand operation to make their point.”

“
So you're suggesting the reason we haven't seen them around is that they're dead?”

“
Nope. As Nappi has pointed out many times. The mob does not kill you when you owe them. They do things to make you wish you were dead. And you find the money. Somehow.”

“
Madeleine.”

I nodded. Then whispered, “The bastards.”

Sammy reached out and took my hand. His was big and warm and totally enveloped mine, a comforting feeling, a feeling of safeness.

“
Thank you.”

He looked puzzled. “What did I do?”

“
I know you're not real crazy about white folks, yet you helped me when I needed you. You gave me the information I needed tonight and listened to my suspicions and you didn't laugh at me.”

“
I didn't give you much information, only what I knew about the brothers.”

“
Yes, but because you listened without a word of doubt when I connected all of what I suspected, it confirmed I was on the right track.”

Sammy shrugged. “I can't prove any of what I said. I was lucky to spy them doing one drop-off. I couldn't go to the authorities and say they seemed to have a lot of people on their boat at night and were transporting them up river. What does that prove?”

I looked at Sammy and wondered how honest I could be with him. “Of course there was your inherent distrust of the authorities …. Didn't that also keep you from reporting them?”

At first I thought I'd made a mistake. He drew back from me, got off the stool, and took a few steps toward the canal. He stood there a moment, hands in his pockets, looking out over the water. Then he returned to his seat.

“
Grandfather and I have discussed in detail what I saw, what all of us in the tribe have seen and think about the Hardys. They seem to us to be the worst of the white people around here. I think a sense of despair settled over me and I felt as if no one other than my family would care what they did in the swamps. The people in Florida—the politicians, ranchers, farmers, and developers—only think about the swamp when it creates problems for them. They'd like all of it to disappear.”

I agreed with what he was saying. I'd seen the bulldozers and earth moving equipment churning through the watery expanses of land alongside the highway as I drove between Sabal Bay and the coast one morning last month. By the time I headed back in the afternoon, piles of trees, brush, and other vegetation stood in mountainous heaps and the land was stripped down to bare earth. I could only imagine what this rape did to the wildlife that depended upon the swamp to breed, nest, and eat.

He continued. “What good is swampland unless you can drain it and build condos or plant sugar on it? Look what they've done to the Everglades and the Big Lake? Confined the lake with feeder canals, levees, and locks and almost succeeded in draining the Everglades. Most people consider it a big dump, like folks out west see the deserts—land where trash can be tossed. Why should I want to step in?” His voice was filled with anger, disdain, and fear.

Then his face brightened for a moment. “Grandfather says we have to trust some of the white people or we will lose everything. Maybe he's right.”

“
I think we can begin by taking down these two brothers.”

“
Their bosses will only send others.”

“
Maybe, but it's better to take a stand against two brothers instead of waiting until many more like them cruise the swamps with boats full of desperate people. I've got a way to confirm part of what I suspect. It's a beginning.”

Sammy wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “And I'll bet you're going to bait them out of hiding. Right? Offer them something so enticing they can't resist. I want to be in on it.”

“
Sure.”

Nappi and I had split up the responsibility for bringing Madeleine's kidnapper and Winston's killer to justice. He would deal with the Russians, and I would handle the Hardys. With a little help from my friends, of course.

One friend I hadn't counted on was Alex, who rolled in that night from Pensacola, announcing he had finished his case and was free to hang around. He was promising to wine and dine me. How could I tell him I was hot on the heels of a kidnapper, that a romantic interlude didn't fit my schedule right now? Oh, that would change, I was certain, but at this moment I didn't have time for the two step, tango, candlelit dinners, and hot kisses, even if they were great hot kisses. I couldn't tell him that. He'd be hurt. And he'd be furious that I'd plunged my acrylic nails into another bowl of murder.

I thought I should ease him into what I was up to. Of course, I had no intention of telling him every little detail of what I was doing, but I'd practice a bit of easing and see how it went. I couldn't lie to him forever.

The night after I enlisted Nappi and Sammy as co-conspirators in my plans to find the Russians and the Hardys, Alex took me to the coast. We sat overlooking the St. Lucie River, sipping a bottle of very nicely chilled Pinot Grigio, my very favorite wine. Asparagus with hollandaise sauce topped with crab meat was the appetizer, followed by blackened mahi and a side of polenta. Yummy.

Things were going so well. I was about to start my easing into the truth approach when Madeleine walked in with a date. Uh-oh. There was one little detail I'd forgotten about. I hadn't told Alex that Madeleine had been nabbed. Well, give me a break. I was busy trying to figure out how to rescue her. Over the phone he kept saying I should tell the authorities about the ransom demand for Sophia and Boris' sister, which I took to mean I should report any ransom demand. I'd again indicated I wouldn't go to the police, so while Madeleine was being held by the peanut butter guy, the calls between Alex and me were short. I was in no mood to reveal what I was doing, so why would I tell him I was trying to borrow money from Nappi to rescue Madeleine? Why would I tell him she needed rescuing? He didn't need to know that I was ignoring his advice … as usual. Or that I was into something not quite legal … again.

I'd neglected to tell him about losing Nappi's money, Jerry's stint in the hospital, or Madeleine's diet of peanut butter followed by our swim in the canal lock. So I guess he didn't know much of what had transpired in the past few days. The truth? He didn't know anything about what I'd done.

All of this raced through my head as Madeleine came over to our table and gave Alex a hug. “I'm so glad you're back. You can't imagine what it was like all that time ….”