Geezer Paradise (37 page)

             
"We saw them," Willey said.  "But how do we hold Flaherty off until they get here?"

             
"I have five shots left in Snydely's gun," I said.  I rushed back to the rail and fired two shots at Flaherty.  He stopped for a second, then he started toward us again.  I fired three more shots, and one of Flaherty's front windows exploded.  That made him stop again.  Sofie went into the cabin.  When she came out she was carrying a flare-gun and a box of flares.  Before she could get back to us, Flaherty fired again.  Sofie was thrown to the deck.  She was hit!  I crawled over to her, she had been hit in her right arm. 

             
"Use the flares," she said.  I grabbed the flare gun and the flares and tossed them to Willey.  Then I untied my shoelaces, and used them and the barrel of my empty, useless, gun to make a tourniquet. 

             
"You'll be alright," I said. 

             
Sofie put her hand over mine.  "I'll be okay.  Go help Willey.  I'll take care of this."  She tightened the tourniquet.  "I'm sorry I got all of you into this mess."

             
"It's the other way around," I said.  "We were the ones who got you into our mess."  As I reached Willey he fired a flare at Flaherty.  That was all we had left to fight with.  It flew over Flaherty's head . . . he was on us.  At this range he couldn't miss, drunk or not.  Willey fired another flare.  Flaherty had to scramble to grab it and throw it overboard. 

             
Flaherty was so drunk he was staggering.  If he were sober we would all be dead by now.  The horns from the oncoming sponge boats were louder.  I looked their way.  They were almost on us.  Flaherty saw them at the same time and lowered his rifle.  He could outrun the big lumbering sponge boats, but he had to leave before they arrived.  He stood motionless for a second, trying to decide whether to kill us or run--then he saw Snydely.   

             
"Snydely, you bastard," Flaherty screamed, and raised his rifle.  Before he could pull the trigger three rifle shots rang out from the sponge boats.  Flaherty went down--and lay dead on the deck of his boat.  The men on the sponge boats lowered their rifles. 

             
The sponge boats then surrounded us.  Two men jumped onto our deck.  They went to Sofie.  "Are you hurt bad, Sofie?"  One of them asked.  Sofie tried to smile, but she couldn't quite make it.

             
"I'm okay," she said.  "Please, go help Oscar."  The men looked around.  I pointed at Oscar.  One of them went to look after Oscar.  A siren sounded behind us.  It was the Coast Guard.  They pulled up alongside, and one of the officers came aboard and took charge.  I saw two Coast Guardsmen board Flaherty's boat.  A little while later they covered Flaherty with a sheet.  A minute later we heard the whap, whap, whap, of the medic helicopter overhead.  It lowered a basket-like stretcher down to us, and we gingerly put Sofie into it and strapped her in. 

             
The basket was raised and she disappeared inside the helicopter.  A minute later the empty basket was lowered again.  This time they put Oscar into it, and he too, disappeared into the helicopter.  The chopper turned and raced over the water toward the nearest hospital.  Flaherty didn't need any medical attention--they would tow his boat and his body back to shore.  More Coast Guardsmen were aboard by then.  The boat was packed with people all talking at once. 

             
I sat down heavily in the stern of the boat and watched the rescue chopper disappear from view.  I said a silent prayer for those aboard.  

Epilogue

TWO DAYS LATER we were back in the park.  We were home.  Sofie was back in her own house, recuperating, and Oscar was home with a bandage on his leg.  We were stunned to find a half-dozen dead snakes on Willey's kitchen floor.  The heat must have killed them, but who put them there. 

              "Imagine that," Willey said.  "Flaherty must have had someone dump those snakes in here through that slashed screen.  That guy tried everything he could think of to scare us out of here. 

             
Willey said, "I think that yellow and red snake might have been poisonous."  We had picked up the deceased critters from the floor and threw them into the garbage can in the carport.  Then we sat out in Willey's carport drinking coffee.  Oscar had developed a taste for coffee.  We got him his own mug. 

             
Sofie was doing well.  Eduardo had taken a week off to nurse her back to health.  I had been up there to visit her.  When she's fully recovered she wants me to take her to a Bobby Vinton concert.  I told her I'd take her anyplace she wanted to go.  We had a pillow under Oscar's bandaged leg.  We were all just sitting around resting from our ordeal.

             
Flaherty would be lowered into his grave the day after tomorrow.  His wife would probably throw a party.  His company is out of business.  Suddenly, Snydely couldn't wait to testify against Senator Buckland and Stevens.  He wanted them put away for life.  I did, too.  Snydely comes by to visit me and Willey, but mostly he comes by to visit Oscar.  They've become buddies.  Snydely says he will lose his license to practice law when he testifies.  He was given immunity in return for his testimony, but he has to admit to breaking some laws.  He's been asking Eduardo to hire him as an undercover investigator.  Eduardo is looking into the legality of it, since Snydely is part of the ongoing Flaherty-Buckland case.

             
Senator Buckland was in an unnamed rehab.  It wasn't his fault--he had a poor childhood.  Stevens was cooling his heels in jail, waiting to go on trial for Freddy's murder. 

             
The shooting of Flaherty by the sponge boaters was deemed a necessary action.  No charges were filed.  The Attorney General made a special trip to Tarpon Springs to personally thank the Sponge Boaters.

             
Willey told the park residents that Oscar had single handedly saved the park from destruction by Flaherty.  Supposedly Oscar jumped onto Flaherty's boat under heavy gunfire, climbed onto the boat's roof, and dropped down onto Flaherty's head just before Flaherty shot us all.  The park residents decided to let Oscar stay with us.  Many of the old dears come by and hug him.  Oscar, being the ham he is, eats it up. 

             
Mary was still in the hospital, but she was back to her old self, trading barbs with Willey.  She was looking forward to going home next week.  We gave her back her cell phone and thanked her for all of her help.  We also gave her fifty dollars to cover the cost of getting the new phone. 

             
Willey has since bought a new cell phone, and his hair was slowly turning back from brown to white.  He looked stranger than ever.  Sofie's friend's shot up boat was covered by insurance.  Professor Crumby had come to the conclusion that the Indian artifacts found in the park were collected farther south, and the park land was not, after all, an historic site.  Eddie the Egret strutted by looking for food.  All was right with the world. 

             
Willey's cell phone rang.  It was Eduardo.  Willey asked Eduardo how Sofie was.  "Sofie's doing fine," Willey repeated to me.  "She sends her love and wants us to give Oscar a big kiss for her."

             
"I'll let you handle that," I said. 

             
Then Willey said, "Eduardo wants to know if we're ready for another assignment?"  I looked at Willey and shook my head, no.  Willey nodded in agreement. 

             
"Thanks for the offer, Eduardo," Willey said.  "But we're retiring from the detective business.  We've decided we're too old for that kind of work."  Willey said a few more "Uh huhs."  And then, "That's good news, Eduardo.  Give our best to Sofie . . . Bye."

             
Willey said, "An anonymous employee of Flaherty's sent the Attorney General a copy of Flaherty's real books.  If Flaherty hadn't been killed, he'd be heading to jail for a long time for tax evasion.  Oh, and Eduardo is sending us our paychecks."  That was good news because we were broke.  Jim and Alice Wilson across the street needed a new roof after the hurricane, and didn't have enough money for it.  Alice is confined to a wheelchair from arthritis.  I could relate to that.  They're good people.  The reason they didn't have enough money for the roof was, they were always helping out others in the park. 

             
Willey and I got together and paid for the roof.  That cleaned us out.  Except for those last checks that were coming we were back living in genteel poverty again.  I had sent my article on Weeki Wachee to John at the Tampa Sun, but I hadn't heard back from him yet.  Maybe it would come through, but I didn't want to rush him. 

             
Willey said, "You know, Barney, we're sure going to miss that money."

             
"I know, Willey.  I was just thinking the same thing.  But I won't miss the rest of it."

             
"I don't know," Willey said.  "It was kind of fun, wasn't it?"  I crumpled up my paper napkin and bounced it off Willey's forehead.

             
"No," I said.  "It wasn't."  It would be just like him to volunteer us for another job.  Willey just grinned at me.  Sometimes he makes me nervous. 

             
I stayed at Willey's place until around midnight.  Then I decided to go home.  I said goodnight to Willey and Oscar, and headed for the door.  Just as I was about to turn the doorknob I heard a faint scratching sound coming from the other side of the door.  I gave the door a hard shove outward, our doors open outward, and felt it hit someone.  Then I heard somebody yelp.  I snapped on the outside light.

             
A scrawny old man with a long, white beard, and farmer's overalls was lying on the driveway.  It wasThomas, the old guy who owned the farm next to the park.  On his chest was a bloody, white chicken carcass.  I called for Willey to help me, and we went outside together.  As soon as Willey saw the old man he said, "Thomas, what the hell are you doing here?"

             
"I aint doin' nothin'," Thomas squeaked.  "I was jest walkin' by when the door hit me."

             
Willey took the chicken off Thomas' chest and grabbed him under one arm.  "Take his other arm, Barney, and help me get him inside."  We took him inside and sat him at the kitchen table.  I turned some lights on. 

             
"Barney," Willey said.  "You know what he was doing with the chicken?  He was going to hang it on my door to scare me.  You know, Voodoo, Black Magic . . . Santeria.  It wasn't Flaherty that was trying to scare us out of here, it was him.  He's the one who planted the fake bomb under your house.  If it was Flaherty, he would have used a real bomb and you wouldn't be here now.  He's the one that threw the bottle of gasoline at my house, too.  Now he's trying Voodoo."

             
Willey turned to Thomas.  "Why are you doing this, Thomas?"  Thomas just sat there with his head down, studying his shoes. 

             
"Thomas," Willey said.  "Answer me."  Thomas was silent.  Willey went over and woke up Oscar, who had slept through the whole thing.  He walked Oscar over to Thomas and stood him there. 

             
"Thomas," Willey said.  "This is Oscar."  Thomas stared at Oscar, but said nothing.

             
"Oscar's an attack monkey," Willey said.  "If I give him the command he'll jump on you and bite your nose off, then your ears.  "And then he'll pluck your eyeballs out of your head.  Thomas' eyes got wide, but he just stared at Oscar and said nothing.  Just then Oscar put his hairy hand on Thomas' knee and smiled at him, showing all his large, sharp teeth. 

             
"Hold 'em back!" Thomas screamed.  "I'll tell ya, jest take that demon monkey away."  Willey put Oscar back in his chair. 

             
"Alright," Willey said.  "And you better tell us everything."

             
"I needed the money," Thomas wailed.

             
"What money?"

             
"From that builder guy that wants ta buy the park."

             
"You mean Flaherty?" Willey asked.  "Why would he give you money?"

             
"His lawyer come ta see me a while back an said as soon as they bought the park they'd pay me two million bucks for my farm.  I need the money.  That's why I was tryin' ta scare you guys away"

             
"Why do you need the money?" I asked.

             
Thomas looked at me.  "Cause it's two million bucks, that's why.  What would you do fer two million bucks?"  He had a point.  For two million bucks I'd probably run around with a dead chicken, too.

             
"How did you know we were trying to stop the sale?" I asked.

             
"Mary tol' me when she come over ta buy some vegetables." 

             
"Was it you that tried to run me down with that big black car?" I asked.