The Turtle Mound Murder (26 page)

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Authors: Mary Clay

Tags: #action and adventure, #cozy mystery, #divorced women, #female sleuth, #humor, #mystery humor, #southern humor

BOOK: The Turtle Mound Murder
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Oh boy, this was no time for a squabble.
“Let’s go back to Pauline’s vision. The two-headed coin part’s
clear. She also said we were in danger from a light-haired
man.”

Penny Sue put her hands on her hips and
regarded me with droopy eyes. The Wild Turkey was definitely
cutting in. “Geez, Becky Leigh, we’ve already discussed this. It’s
the beach. Everyone’s hair is sun-streaked.”

I nodded. “Humor me. Let’s run through the
list one more time. Who have we met with light hair?”

Ruthie started, “Rick, Lyndon—he’s graying,
Al, Stinky, even Robert of the Turtle Patrol has white hair.”

“And, the guy in the red pickup truck,” I
added. “He was here that first day and had the fight with Rick.
Heck, he’s probably the one who killed Rick.”

“We’ve already been through that,” Ruthie
argued.

Charlotte shook her head emphatically.
“Wait, I’ll bet he is the one! He’s probably a drug dealer who
wanted Rick’s territory. Rick told me about the fight. He said the
guy had been following him. Rick confronted him in the parking lot,
they traded punches, then a wack—er homeowner, broke up the
fight.”

“Rick called me a wacko?” Penny Sue
demanded.

Zack snickered. Penny Sue gave him a look
that would fry Satan.

Charlotte shook her head nervously. “No, he
didn’t say that.”

“Right.” Penny Sue was ticked off.

We heard a loud scratching sound on the
other side of the wall, as if Al and Gino were removing pictures. I
guessed they were searching for a hidden safe.

“Where’s the money?” Ruthie asked, her
cheeks still pale.

“For godssakes, it’s probably still in the
darned turtle mound,” Penny Sue blurted.

“No, Al checked that,” Charlotte said.

“Checked what?”

“The turtle nest with the wreath, where Rick
was killed.”

I remembered Robert, Gerty, and the defiled
turtle nest. Al had done that! He was the one who dug it up, only
to feign innocence and help us rebury the eggs. Eggs! “Wait, there
were eggs in that nest,” I said. “It wasn’t the right one.” I
looked at Charlotte. “You said Rick normally took the eggs out of
the nest before the drug drop and buried the money. The nest Al dug
up was full of eggs. It was the wrong nest! The money’s probably
still out on the beach. There were two nests in front of our
condo.”

“Right,” Penny Sue and Ruthie said in
unison. Ruthie glanced at the group, then started banging on the
closet door.

“Stop. What are you doing?” I said.

“I’m going to tell Al where to find the
money.”

“If he knows where the money is, there’s no
reason to keep us alive. That’s our trump card,” I said.

Her face went white as she slumped against
the wall. Penny Sue handed her the bottle. Ruthie looked at me and
took a long drink. “So, what are we going to do? Simply sit here
and wait to be gunned down?” she finally managed.

I massaged my temples; my head was really
pounding. “We’re going to hold out as long as we can in hopes
someone,” I looked at the others, “like Woody, comes by to save us.
If that doesn’t happen, then we’ll play our trump card.”

“Is there anything in here we can use as a
weapon?” Zack asked quietly.

I regarded him, surprised. That was the
first constructive comment he’d made since we’d been in the
closet.

“A tennis racket and bocce balls,” Penny Sue
answered, hefting one of the heavy wooden balls.

“I agree that we should wait until the last
minute, in case anyone comes by. But, if they don’t, Ruthie bangs
on the door, saying we know where the money is. When the door
opens, we pelt them with the bocce balls,” I suggested.

“That’s dangerous,” Charlotte said. “They’ve
got guns.”

“What’s the alternative? Becky’s
right—there’s nothing to lose.” Zack replied. “We haven’t a chance
in hell of getting out of here alive without outside help or taking
a risk. I say we wait for help, but if that doesn’t materialize, we
take the risk. It’s the only logical thing to do.”

Ruthie and Penny Sue nodded their heads.
And, for once, Zack and I agreed.

* * *

Chapter 20

We’d finished our
confessions,
speculations and were sitting quietly, overcome by heat and the
gravity of the situation, when we heard Gino stomp down the
hall.

“The money’s not here,” Al declared angrily.
“Let’s scram. I’ll get the stuff from the utility room, you turn on
the gas stove.”

Turn on the stove! We all sat up as one.
They were planning to burn the place down! Penny Sue started
passing out the bocce balls.

“Ruthie and Leigh, let them have it as soon
as the door opens. Penny Sue, Charlotte, and I will hold our balls
in reserve. As soon as you throw, get out of the way,” Zack
instructed.

He made sense, so I didn’t argue. I poked
Ruthie on the arm. “Do your thing.”

Ruthie clutched the ball tightly in one hand
and banged on the door with the other. “We know where the money is.
Open up, Al! We know where the money is …”

Each of us gripped a wooden ball as we
listened to someone fumble with the keys on the other side of the
door. I held my bocce ball with both hands, trying to decide if I
should throw it over handed or underhanded, and whether I should
aim for the stomach or head. A hit to the head would certainly do
more damage, though made for a much smaller target. Better to hit
something than nothing, at all. I decided underhanded and that the
stomach was the safest bet. I poised myself to throw.

The door creaked open. It was Al. Luscious,
cool air rushed into the closet, and we all took a deep breath. I
hadn’t realized how stuffy the place had gotten until that
moment.

“Where’s the money?” Gino snarled, looming
over Al’s shoulder.

“It’s here,” Ruthie shouted as we both threw
our balls with all the force we could muster.

“Wha-a—” Al staggered backward, surprised
but not hurt. “Bitch,” he snarled and fumbled for his gun. Gino
screamed.

“AH-H-H!” Gino screeched with pain and swung
around. A stream of water hit him in the face. The ugly thug fell
to the floor writhing in agony. Al pivoted toward the unseen
attacker, gun in hand, but I pushed him off balance. Then a stream
of water hit him, too. Al collapsed beside Gino, shaking violently.
I realized what had happened. The Taser. Someone had our Taser!

Ruthie and I leading the way, we all rushed
out of the closet. Charlotte’s husband, Pete, stood in the hallway,
the Taser at ready. I noticed Penny Sue’s pearl-handled gun stuffed
in his belt.

“Pete, you saved our lives!” I stopped
abruptly, noticing the glassy look in his eye. Everyone else did,
too. Pete waved the Taser in our direction. Zack, Penny Sue, and
Charlotte dropped their bocce balls, which rolled across the tiled
floor.

“How many more, Charlotte?” Pete demanded
angrily, eyes narrowed at Zack. “How many more of your lovers am I
gonna have to kill?”

My jaw sagged. Pete was the killer!
Charlotte backed into the living room where the television blared
the coordinates of the storm.

“Pete, darling, there’s no one but you,”
Charlotte implored.

He laughed coldly. Gino began to stir, and
Pete Tasered him once more. Gino collapsed in a stronger wave of
convulsions. Pete regarded the Taser fondly. “This is a handy
little gadget. Very stimulating, don’t you think? Isn’t that what
you’ve been looking for, Charlotte? Stimulation?” His lips thinned
sadistically. “I think I could stimulate you real good with this
baby.” He patted the reservoir for the liquid.

“No, Pete, I love you,” Charlotte whimpered,
backing against the sliding glass doors. “I love only you.”

“That’s why you’ve been sleeping with
everyone in town, because you love me? You thought you’d fooled me,
but I knew. I’ve known for a long time. All those nights I sat at
home alone, I knew what you were doing. Working, ha! You were
working, all right. Working bed springs.

“Since I got this new cast, I can get around
real good.” Pete patted the cast on his lower leg with the barrel
of the Taser. “I’ve been following you and getting rid of your
boyfriends, one by one. The one on the beach put up a fight …”

In a flash I realized why Rick’s toes had
been bent at such a grotesque angle. He had kicked Pete’s cast in
the scuffle.

“… the one last night never knew what hit
him. You must have been real disappointed when he didn’t show.”
Pete gritted his teeth and gave Al and Gino another blast from the
Taser. “So disappointed you went for a little ménage en trois.”

“Pete,” the younger woman sobbed. “It’s not
like that. I love you.”

He focused on Zack as if the rest of us
weren’t in the room. “You just can’t get enough, can you, sweetie?
I guess I’ll have to kill this pretty boy, too. I guess I’ll have
to kill you all.” Pete waved the Taser back and forth as if he were
going to spray the whole group of us. Spittle drooled from the
corner of his mouth. Pete was definitely on something or
deranged.

A wheel, spinning … The motorcycle accident!
A two-headed coin … Psychotic? Schizophrenic? In that instant I
realized there wasn’t going to be any reasoning with Pete. Pete
shifted the Taser to his left hand and pulled out Penny Sue’s .38.
“Come here, darling. Come show me how much you love me.”

Charlotte cringed against the sliding door
sobbing, tears flooding down her cheeks like the rain washing
across the outside of the glass.

“Come here, sugar. Don’t make me mad.”

She started toward him slowly, and I saw
Pete pull back the hammer on the revolver with his thumb. I had to
do something, he was going to kill her, kill us all! I looked
around for a weapon and spied it on the end of the counter.
Kills on Contact from Twenty Feet
, the can proclaimed in
bright yellow letters.

As Charlotte shuffled past me toward Pete, I
saw my chance. I grabbed the can of wasp killer and pressed the
button as hard as I could, aiming directly for Pete’s face. I hit
my mark. Pete reflexively squeezed the trigger on the
.38—fortunately, the shot went wild—and on the Taser, which hit
Zack in the groin and Charlotte in the foot. They both fell to the
floor as Penny Sue and Ruthie ran for cover. I stooped low and kept
spraying. Pete staggered backward dropping the Taser and the gun as
he struggled to shield his face from the foul smelling poison.

Then, suddenly, the front door blew open,
and a torrent of rain, palm fronds and debris gusted down the hall.
Somewhere in the melee Deputy Moore materialized along with the man
from the red pickup truck! Only this time the mysterious man was
wearing a black tee shirt—a tee shirt emblazoned with the letters
DEA.

In a matter of minutes it was over. Pete,
Al, Gino, and Charlotte were in handcuffs and being led to patrol
cars. Zack managed to scramble to the sofa, where he lay clutching
his crotch and moaning. Penny Sue stood in the corner, nursing a
diet cola, while Ruthie rummaged for the Rescue Remedy to treat
Zack. I knew where it was, but didn’t tell her. As far as I was
concerned, the location of the injury was clearly karmic, and I
certainly didn’t want to interfere with the Universal Flow.

Deputy Moore returned from helping secure
the prisoners. He checked on Zack, who claimed to be mortally
wounded. Moore assured him the pain would pass shortly. Then he
sauntered alongside me and patted my shoulder. “Nice going, Hot
Shot,” he commented with a wide grin. “You saved everyone’s lives.
Although we had the place surrounded, I’m not sure we could have
saved you if Gino’d succeeded in setting the fire.”

“Why didn’t you intervene earlier?” I asked,
peeved they let us suffer in the closet for so long.

“Couple of reasons. We were waiting on heat
sensors to help us pinpoint your location. Rushing in blindly would
have put you at risk. Second, we wanted to see who else would show
up. We thought Lyndon Fulbright might be involved. We never figured
on Pete—that was a complete surprise.”

“You and me both. Of all the people we
considered, we never thought he was the murderer. Speaking of
surprises,” I said, remembering the money, “There’s a half a
million dollars buried on the beach.”

Deputy Moore reached in his pocket and
pulled out a wet hundred dollar bill. “Not anymore. Hurricane
Lizzie just gave the good people of New Smyrna Beach an early
Christmas present.”

“You’re kidding!” I ran down the hall and
out the front door. I was drenched by rain and had to struggle to
keep my footing in the storm, but I didn’t care. It’s an amazing
sight to see a half million dollars swirling in gale force
winds.

* * *

Chapter 21

Hurricane Lizzie Dumps
Dollars From Heaven

NEW SMYRNA BEACH, FL—Fate smiled on the
small oceanfront community of New Smyrna Beach once again. Known
for never taking a direct hit from a hurricane, grateful residents
awoke this morning to blue skies, sunshine, and lawns littered with
hundred dollar bills.

Both the New Smyrna and Volusia County
Police Departments declined to comment; however, the money is
rumored to be from a drug drop that was buried on the beach.
Unofficial sources speculate that rough seas from Hurricane Lizzie
unearthed the stash, while gale force winds scattered the money up
and down the coast.

When asked what residents should do if they
find any of the cash, a police spokesman said, “Until someone comes
forward to establish ownership, it’s basically a case of
finders-keepers…”

Ruthie angled the
paper so Penny Sue
and I could read the article. We were sitting at the kitchen
counter drinking coffee and eating bagels with cream cheese and
Jalapeño pepper jelly. Directly behind us, a locksmith was putting
the finishing touches on a new deadbolt for the owner’s closet. The
first thing Penny Sue did when she got up that morning was to
arrange to have the locks changed and the closet deadbolt replaced
with a model that opened from the inside.

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