The Hound of the Sanibel Sunset Detective (17 page)

25

F
reddie chose that moment to come through the front door. She reacted with surprise when she saw the two detectives. “Like old times,” she managed to say.

“Yes,” said Markfield. “Complete with us asking Tree about dead bodies.”

Freddie looked even more amazed. “What dead bodies?”

“There’s only one,” Tree said.

“Actually, there are two,” Cee Jay said.

“So far,” Markfield amended.

“Let’s be fair,” Cee Jay said. “Only one body was found in Tree’s Volkswagen.”

“The car was stolen,” Tree said, speaking to Freddie as much as anyone. “I have no idea how the body got there.”

“But you know who Crimson is,” Cee Jay said.

Before Tree could indicate she shouldn’t say anything, Freddie blurted, “Crimson’s dead?”

“So you do know him,” Markfield shot back.

“I know his work,” Freddie said with impressive speed.

“Then it would just be coincidence that he ended up dead in your husband’s Volkswagen.”

“I just arrived home from work, so I’ve got some catching up to do here,” Freddie said.

Cee Jay addressed Tree. “This André Manteau in addition to his pursuit of art, was also president of a Montreal-based biker gang.”

“Is that a fact?” Tree said.

“This is all very interesting,” Freddie said. “But it’s late, and I’ve had a long day, and I’m not very interested in hearing about dead Montreal bikers.”

“Even if that biker’s body was found in your husband’s car?” Cee Jay said.

“Whatever it is, we can talk about this in the morning,” Freddie said.

Markfield addressed Tree, giving him a hard look. “So you know nothing about this, is that what you’re saying?”

“Freddie’s right. It is late. Let’s talk about this when I’ve had a chance to gather my wits,” Tree said.

“You mean as soon as you come up with another set of lies to explain how you’re involved with yet another dead body,” Markfield said. He was having a hard time keeping the anger out of his voice.

Cee Jay turned to Freddie, presenting herself as the voice of reason: “Ms. Stayner, obviously something’s going on here. Someone has broken into your house. A dead body has shown up in your husband’s stolen car. You’re probably in some sort of danger. The police can help, but only if we know what’s going on.”

“You’ll forgive me, Cee Jay, if I don’t look at you or Detective Markfield and see two people particularly interested in being helpful,” said Freddie.

“Have it your way,” Cee Jay said.

_________

When the two detectives were gone, Tree turned to Freddie and said, “Where’s Clinton?”

“I’m going to take you to him,” Freddie said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay here, seeing as how someone has now broken in twice.”

“Where are we going?”

“Never mind that. Just get packed—and tell me what’s going on.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Only so I won’t be quite so surprised the next time the police show up at the door.”

As quickly as he could, Tree told Freddie about the day’s chaotic events: the drive to Miami to see Crimson aka André Manteau; following him into downtown Miami to an abandoned hotel; the attempt on his life; Tree driving Crimson across Alligator Alley only to be abandoned on the side of the road.

“How did you get home?”

“Kelly drove me.” Tree tried to make it sound like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Freddie looked at him. “Kelly Fleming drove out to Alligator Alley and picked you up off the side of the highway?”

“I was trying to get hold of Rex,” Tree said.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I didn’t want to bother you at work.”

“Tree, when you are in trouble, it’s okay to bother me at work.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in the future,” he said.

“Good grief,” Freddie said.

In silence, they collected toiletries and a change of clothing and stuffed everything into an overnight bag—actually, Freddie
neatly
folded business clothes into a sleek Louis Vuitton overnight bag.

When the packing was finished, Tree said, “You still haven’t told me where we are going.”

“We’re hiding out,” Freddie said.

“Where are we doing that?”

“When you’re on the run, you don’t answer questions like that,” Freddie said.

“Are we on the run?”

“Tramps like us,” replied Freddie, “baby, we were born to run.”

26

T
hey weren’t running all that far, as it turned out.

About ten minutes off the island to Gulf Harbor, the gated community on the Caloosahatchee River where Rex Baxter was now keeping his boat, the
Former Actor Too
. They were expecting the fugitives at the gatehouse entrance, thus Freddie was able to drive straight into the vast enclave.

They drove along a brick roadway divided by an island containing carefully tended shrubbery, into a parking lot adjacent to the main clubhouse. Freddie turned off the motor and ordered Tree to bring along their overnight bags. Together, they made their way past darkened tennis courts, down to the docks. Pleasure craft that never seemed to move huddled beneath tarps, ghost boats bathed in moonlight. The
Former Actor
Too
, Rex’s sleek thirty-two-foot Cobalt, was a replacement for
Former Actor
, the craft that had blown up off Useppa Island. It was berthed in one of the end slips, outlined in soft light.

Rex was on the rear deck holding a beer. Kelly Fleming worked up a welcoming smile from her perch on the stern boat seat. Next to her, Clinton leapt up, gave himself a good shake, and then started his tail flailing away as Tree came aboard. He jumped happily up on Tree, and Tree rubbed his ears, relieved to see him.

Rex said, “You don’t get this emotional over me.”

“You don’t jump up on me every time I walk in the door,” Tree said.

“If I had any brains, I’d run the other way,” Rex said.

“We really appreciate you looking after him for a couple of hours,” Freddie said.

Kelly watched closely as Tree embraced the eager Clinton. He could imagine her trying to gauge what importance the dog might have to the story she hoped was her ticket back into the Chicago television market. If only she knew, Tree thought. Or more to the point: if only
he
knew.

“Would you like something to drink?” Rex said.

“No, thanks,” Tree said.

Rex said, “I wasn’t talking to you. Freddie, how about it, would you like a glass of wine?”

“I could use one,” Freddie said.

“Coming right up,” Rex said. He ducked below deck.

“Tell me what’s happening.” Kelly studied the two of them with a gleam in her eye that Tree knew only too well—Kelly’s ambition unleashed.

“Thank you for retrieving my stranded husband this afternoon,” Freddie said.

“I’ve had occasion to pick Tree off the side of the road before,” Kelly said.

“As I told you, Kelly. Someone stole my car.”

“Is that why the two of you are staying on the boat?”

“Our house was broken into earlier,” Freddie said. “The place is a mess. Neither one of us feels like staying there. I phoned Rex, and he was kind enough to offer the
Former Actor Too
.”

“Hey, this is the third-safest community in the United States.” Rex was in Chamber of Commerce-booster mode as he returned with Freddie’s wine. “If we can ever persuade Tree to move off the island, it’s certain to become the very safest.”

By now Tree had seated himself with Clinton nestled beside him, his head on Tree’s lap. Tree stroked his ears while Kelly watched, eyes agleam with suspicion.

“I don’t know,” she said. “There’s something going on here that I’m missing.”

“With Tree, I’ve discovered, it’s just as well not to ask too many questions,” Rex said.

“You sure the two of you aren’t in trouble?” Kelly said. “Maybe you should talk about it.”

“We’re fine,” Freddie said smoothly. “Right now what we need is a good night’s sleep.”

“Make yourselves comfortable here for as long as you like,” Rex said. “There are fresh towels down below and fresh sheets on the bed, so you should be fine, at least for tonight.”

“We really appreciate this, Rex,” Tree said.

“Come on, Kelly, let’s get out of here, and let these people get some rest.” He pointed a finger at Tree. “And you stay out of trouble.”

“I’m retired, remember?”

“I’m trying to keep that in mind,” Rex said. “However, you’re not making it easy.”

Kelly was on her feet smiling down at Tree, the glitter still in her eyes. “You’ll never retire, Tree.”

“You don’t think so?”

She shook her head. “You’re capable of many things, but I don’t think retirement is among them.”

“When we were married I used to think sometimes that when you were talking about me, you weren’t talking about me at all.”

“Who was I talking about?” Kelly asked.

“You were talking about yourself.”

Kelly produced another icy smile and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

________

“Can I be honest with you?” Freddie said as they walked Clinton along the moonlit strip of beach that ran through the spit of land beyond the Gulf Harbor boat docks. The moonlight tipped the lapping waters of the Caloosahatchee. The scene called for Dorothy Lamour in a sarong with a ukulele.

“You certainly can,” Tree said. “After all, we are married.”

“I’m not certain I like your ex-wife.”

“You’re not seeing Kelly at her best,” Tree said.

“No?”

“She’s fighting for her professional life, and she thinks I can help her.”

“What are you supposed to do?”

“She has this idea that I’m her ticket back to Chicago television. Except she thinks I’m holding out on her.”

“You are holding out on her.”

“It’s like I keep telling her, I’m as mystified about what’s going on as anyone.”

“That still doesn’t explain why I don’t like her.”

“Maybe it’s because she kissed me.”

“Or it might have something to do with the fact that you called her for help this afternoon, not me.”

“I don’t believe it. You’re not actually jealous of Kelly are you?”

“It’s not jealousy so much as just not liking what’s happening to us lately.”

“We’ll be fine,” Tree said.

“Will we? I’m not so sure. Let’s recap what happened today. You were involved in a shootout in Miami. Your car was stolen. You were left stranded in the middle of nowhere. Oh, and by the way, someone broke into our house—twice. Let me see, did I leave anything out?”

“You forgot the dead body in the car.”

“Of course,” Freddie said ruefully. “Silly me. How could I forget a dead body in your car?”

Clinton led them up from the beach and along an adjacent pathway illuminated at intervals by overhead lamps.

Freddie continued: “Now we can add Crimson to the number of people looking for Clinton who have ended up dead.”

“Crimson wasn’t actually looking for Clinton,” Tree said.

“Well, he’s still dead. I have this awful suspicion time is running out.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” Tree said.

“Say what?”

“‘Time is running out.’ It sounds like one of those pulp thrillers I used to read as a kid.”

“Consider this, Tree. Maybe your life
is
one of those pulp thrillers you used to read as a kid.”

________

The bed in the below-deck cabin was surprisingly comfortable. With Freddie on one side of him and Clinton on the other, the soft lap of the waves against the hull of the
Former Actor Too
, Tree felt more relaxed than he had in a long time.

“Nice,” he said.

“You love this,” Freddie said. “The man with his dog.”

“And his sexy wife,” Tree said, cuddling against her.

“Now don’t get any ideas, not with the dog here.”

“Perish the thought.”

“I mean we did this once before. But no more.”

“No.”

“Not again.”

“Of course not.”

“Tree,” Freddie said. “Good grief. Tree, oh . . .”

27

F
reddie was up first thing the next morning, deciding she wasn’t going to get properly dressed until she got to her office.

“I can’t face this cramped little bathroom,” she said, once she had dressed in the previous night’s uniform of T-shirt and shorts. “Except when they see me come into the store like this, they’re going to think I was out sleeping around.”