The Hound of the Sanibel Sunset Detective (13 page)

“No, this is fine.” She leaned against the counter, sipping the water. She wore white shorts and a halter top, her skin smooth and lightly tanned.

“How do you like Sanibel?” Tree asked.

She put the glass on the counter. “Rex keeps at me to go out in his boat.”

“Yes,” Tree said. “Rex and that boat.”

“I don’t think he’s all that comfortable with it, particularly when it comes to parking.”

“Here they call it docking.”

“What’s he doing with a boat, anyway? There always seems to be something wrong with it.”

“It’s South Florida. He thinks anyone who lives here must have a boat. And if you do have a boat, you have to deal with the fact that there is always something wrong with it.”

“I’m a city girl. I like pavement under my feet.”

Tree grinned and said, “After Chicago and the newspaper business, it took me some time to get used to this.”

“Except you don’t have a boat.”

“Rex has one. That’s close enough.”

“Rex seems very happy here.”

“The boat aside, he’s in his element,” Tree said. “Everyone loves him; everyone wants to hear his old Hollywood stories.”

“Yes, those stories,” Kelly said. “It seems to me I’ve heard them before.”

“Many times,” Tree agreed. “They haven’t changed over the years, but the great thing about this island, there’s always a new audience.”

She gave him one of those sideways looks that always got to men—except Tree, of course. He would never fall for a look like that. Not anymore, anyway.

“Now you, Tree, you don’t seem to be bored here; just the opposite, in fact.”

“Hey, I’m just a quiet retired guy,” Tree said.

“Who happens to be all over the news this morning.”

“So I hear.”

“You haven’t turned on a television or read a newspaper?”

“I haven’t had time,” Tree said.

“Kidnapped by gangsters in Miami. Discovering dead bodies in Fort Myers—no getting bored for intrepid Tree Callister.”

“That’s me,” Tree said, forcing a grin, not certain where this was going.

Kelly picked up her water glass, took it to the sink, and refilled it under the tap. “You know I was downsized last year.”

“I didn’t, not until you told me at the Lighthouse.”

She turned to him, holding the glass. “It was quite a blow.”

“I can imagine,” Tree said.

“I’d been part of Chicago television for twenty-five years. Six local Emmy Awards for my work.”

“Yes, I remember,” Tree said.

“I turned down opportunities in New York because I wanted to stay in Chicago. I love the town, love the news scene there, love being part of it—the craziness, the corruption, the crime, all of it.”

“And don’t forget all the attention you receive,” Tree said. “You love walking into a room and being Kelly Fleming.”

“Hey, it comes with the territory,” she said with a smile. “I decided a long time ago that I might as well relax and enjoy it.”

She drank some more water and then once again put the glass to one side. “The point is, it’s over, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. I’m about as good at being retired as you are.”

“I don’t mind being retired,” Tree said. “I just don’t seem to be able to do it.”

“I’ll be honest with you. I’m looking for a way back in, something I can take to them that would put me back in the game.”

“That sounds like you’re planning to leave the island.”

She lifted her shoulders up and down and abruptly looked tired. “I don’t know. Rex wants me to stay, of course.”

“I care about Rex,” Tree said. “I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“Don’t worry,” Kelly said. “I’m not going to hurt him.”

“Then stick around for a while.”

The tension went out of her body, and she turned on that smile that previously had charmed the world. “Is that what you would like?”

He didn’t say anything. She looked back at him. “I’d better get out of here,” she said.

He said, “Without telling me why you came.”

“Maybe I’m not all that sure. A little advice about Rex, maybe.”

“I’m not quite sure what to say other than it’s awkward talking to my former wife about her relationship with my best friend.”

“Which is why I should get out of here.”

“Do you have a car?”

“Rex is supposed to pick me up at the beach in a few minutes.”

“I can drive you back to the Chamber.”

“Do you mind?”

They went outside to his car. Tree opened the passenger- side door for her. She went to get in and then stopped. “You know something?”

“What?”

“I can’t remember why our marriage broke up.”

“I believe you were bored,” Tree said.

She gave him another smile. “I think there must have been more to it than that.”

“I’m not so sure,” Tree said.

And then she kissed him on the mouth.

Just as Rex Baxter drove up in his red Dodge Challenger Hellcat.

19

R
ex got out, glanced at Kelly, and then said to Tree, “I heard about Edith Goldman.”

“Yes,” Tree said.

“I thought I’d drop around and see how you’re doing.”

“I’m doing okay,” Tree said.

“You shouldn’t have stopped being a detective,” Rex said. “You’re in more trouble than ever.”

Kelly went over and slipped her arm around Rex’s waist. “I was worried about Tree,” she said.

“I thought you were going for a run on the beach,” Rex said.

“I did. I ran on the beach. Then I came over here.”

“Where’s the dog?” Rex said to Tree.

Kelly’s eyes narrowed. She looked at Tree. “Dog? What dog?”

“Tree has a hound dog,” Rex said.

“He’s not here,” Tree said quickly. “Freddie took him to work this morning.”

Rex said, “I’d better be getting to the Chamber. Everybody’s yelling and screaming about the website. I don’t know. It looks pretty good to me.”

“Try to remember, darling, it
is
the twenty-first century,” Kelly said.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. What are your plans?”

“I’ll go back to your place, get cleaned up, check my e-mail, maybe get some sun.”

“Why don’t I pick you up for lunch around one?”

“You don’t need to, honey. I’m okay on my own.”

Tree found it strange to hear his former wife calling his best friend “honey.” But then maybe his best friend found it equally strange to drive up and find his new girlfriend kissing his best friend.

When they had both driven off, Tree went back into the house. The phone started ringing. He sat on the sofa staring into space and let it ring. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to anyone right now.

________

Freddie got home that evening, dragged along by an excited Clinton. He leapt up on Tree.

He hugged Clinton and congratulated him on being such a smart boy, knowing enough to get away from whoever broke into the house. “Yes, you are,” Tree said, holding Clinton. “You are such a good boy, and I missed you.”

Clinton nuzzled him in happy agreement.

Tree got him water and then fed him a bowl of kibble. Freddie poured herself a glass of chardonnay.

“The question now is, what do we do with him?” Freddie said.

“I’m not turning him over to anyone.”

“Obviously I don’t want anything bad to happen to Clinton, but at some point we are going to have to tell the FBI or the police about what’s going on. There are simply too many people looking for this dog, and we are not really equipped to protect him.”

Tree watched Clinton gobbling his kibble and didn’t say anything.

“Tree?” Freddie said. “Are you listening to me?”

“Kelly came to see me,” Tree said.

“Is that an attempt to change the subject?”

“This is to tell you my ex-wife showed up at the door in the midst of everything this morning.”

“What did she want?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No, of course not.”

Tree then told her about what had happened, including the part where Kelly kissed him just as Rex drove up.

“What did Rex say?”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Tree said.

“You should have a talk with him.”

“And say what? My ex-wife, your new girlfriend, kissed me, I didn’t kiss her.”

“You could say it was meaningless.”

“I guess I could,” Tree said.

“Providing it was meaningless.”

“For me, it was.”

“But you’re not so sure about Kelly.”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“Maybe you’re making too much out of it.”

“I hope so,” Tree said. “But I can’t help worrying about Rex.”

“Rex is an adult,” Freddie said. “He should be able to figure this stuff out for himself.”

“Except he’s lonely and vulnerable—and where Kelly is concerned men don’t always think straight.”

“Including you?”

“At one time it probably applied to me, yes.”

“But not any longer?”

Tree laughed and said, “Now it’s you—when I’m around you, I can’t think straight.”

“So that’s what it is,” she said. “I wondered.”

“Yes, you’ve driven me crazy.”

She came into his arms. “You may be crazy, my love, but I’m not sure how much I had to do with it.”

She kissed him. He looked at her in amazement. “It’s Monday night, for heaven’s sake.”

She said, “So? You’re used to walking on the wild side, aren’t you?”

“I’m a veteran walker on the wild side.”

“So prove it.”

Somehow they were in their bedroom, entwined. They heard a yelp and turned to see Clinton at the bottom of the bed, those big, sad eyes, imploring. “I’m sorry, Clinton,” Freddie said. “This is not something you can be part of.”

Clinton responded by taking a couple of steps back and then bounding onto the bed. “Clinton,” Tree said in a stern voice, “get off the bed.”

Clinton sat on his haunches and turned his head a bit.

“Tree, he has to get off the bed,” Freddie said.

Instead, Clinton lay down, burrowing into the covers, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed.

“He’s had a traumatic day,” Tree said. “He doesn’t want to be alone.”

“Good grief,” Freddie said.

He pulled her to him.

________

Freddie said, “I can’t believe we just did that with the dog on the bed.”

“He was very quiet,” Tree said. “You hardly knew he was here.”

By now, Clinton had moved up so that he lay contentedly between them. Freddie reached down and petted his head. Clinton uttered a contented sound and wriggled around so that he was even closer to his pals.

“He loves us,” Tree said.

“What are we going to do with him?”

“You keep asking that question.”

“And you keep not answering it.”

“All we have to do for now is love him,” Tree said.

“We don’t have any trouble doing that, but then what? I’ll remind you again, in case you’ve forgotten: people are looking for him.”

“Actually, I do know what I’m going to do.”

“Then, please tell me.”

“What I started out to do—find out why everyone is looking for him. If it’s something we can turn over to the FBI, then we will do it. After that, we’ll keep Clinton, and everything will be fine.”

“Everything won’t be fine,” Freddie said.

“You’re too much of a pessimist.”

“I’m a realist,” Freddie said. “This isn’t going to end well.”

“Yes, it is,” Tree said. “I will make it end well. I will.”

He told himself that repeatedly as he drifted off, like Dorothy reciting, “There’s no place like home.” But he now knew the truth about Dorothy.
The Wizard of Oz
wasn’t just about getting home. It was about getting Dorothy’s dog, Toto, to safety. Saving Toto. Dorothy wanted to reach home because that is where Toto would be safe.

Tree felt Clinton’s warmth against him as he lay back, holding onto Freddie, thinking that, for a moment, all was well with the world. He and Freddie were home, and Clinton was home with them, and they were safe.

20

T
he next morning Tree drove back to Miami.

The mystery of Clinton was never going to be solved on Captiva Island, he decided. The answer lay to the south.