Chapter 5

“Of course I’ll help you in any way I can,” I said. “You’re family. Where will we start? When do we get started?”

“Great, Kitt.” Janell gave my arm a squeeze. “We’ll get started as soon as possible. We need all the help we can get.”

“And all the locals are family where this murder’s concerned,” Rex said.

Suddenly the tropical garden I’d seen as warm and comforting morphed into a jungle-like prison. All its green vines and thorns were closing in on me, holding me in place. I wanted to help solve Abra Barrie’s murder. Yes. I wanted to help get a serial killer off the streets. Yes. But I didn’t want to offer help that might place Janell or Rex under closer scrutiny. Janell had started to tell me where they were last Friday afternoon, but she’d been interrupted and I didn’t want to ask again. The fact that the police had found human blood on Rex’s boat loomed large in my mind although I couldn’t imagine him harming anyone. They hadn’t proved that the blood was Rex’s.

“You realize I have a selfish reason for wanting to help, don’t you?” I looked at the ground, unable to meet their eyes. “Maybe working on this murder will help me atone for my mistake back home.” I got off the subject of that shooting quickly—before either of them could comment.

“And another reason, I can identify with Abra Barrie. I’d like to help find her killer. She was working to improve our environment. Helping make people aware of sources of renewable energy is a good and logical place to start. It’s one reason I’m driving the Prius. I want people to notice it, to ask about it. I wish I could have known Abra. I think we had a lot in common.”

Janell stood and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever your reasons for helping find this killer, they all boil down to the fact that you’re a good person, Kitt. Never forget that.”

Rex’s cell phone rang and he spoke to a caller briefly before he pocketed the phone and turned to us again. “Police. They want me at headquarters—again. Now. Didn’t say why, but I don’t think they’re serving tea and toast.”

“I thought they’d asked all their questions last Saturday,” Janell said. “I hope their questioning isn’t going to be an on-going thing.”

“Maybe they’re going to give you the go ahead for cleaning up your boat.” I wished I could forget about that blood, his boat.

“They could have mentioned that over the phone. But they didn’t.” Rex gulped the last of his coffee then strode toward the carport and wheeled his bicycle onto the path to the front gate.

“Why don’t you take the car?” Janell called. “I won’t need it to get supplies until later in the morning.”

“And we could take the Prius for that errand,” I added.

“Arriving in the car would tell the chief I place extra importance on this meeting. Going to play it cool. Going to ride the bike as usual.”

Rex left and I pushed my plate and juice glass aside, no longer interested in breakfast. Janell refilled her coffee cup and settled back in her chair.

“During tourist season, we only use the car for essential driving—usually to the grocery store or the lumberyard for supplies. If we’re lucky we can find side streets with little traffic and a parking slot at Fausto’s or Strunk’s. But for ordinary errands, we ride our bicycles.”

“I noticed heavy traffic when I arrived yesterday.”

“Right. The traffic’s hard to deal with—SUVs and live-in campers clog streets originally designed for horse and buggies. But we smile and tell tourists our crowded streets are a part of Key West’s charm. And while parking places are hard to find, I’m sure there’ll be one waiting for Rex at the police station. Wish I could have gone with him.”

“Maybe he’ll be back soon. In the meantime, how about giving me the scoop on your workers and their alibis?” I hoped that would take our minds off Rex’s command performance at the police station.

“Sure. We’ll get to that, but first let’s stop pussy-footing around your problems back home. You must have had good reason for shooting that guy. Want to tell me about it?”

“I hate thinking about it, hate talking about it. But maybe it’ll be a relief to tell you the whole story. You and Rex are the only family I have left.”

“So give. What happened?”

I gave her all the details leading to the shooting. “And there we were with guns drawn in this dark smelly pet shop.” The thought of the animal odor reminded me of last night’s nightmare and I had to gulp more juice before I could continue. “I saw the perp raise his arm, point his gun at my head—and I fired first. Several minutes later we discovered he wasn’t armed. Had a phony pistol, a child’s toy. Can’t understand why he risked pointing a fake gun at a police officer. Dumb butt. Didn’t he know he was putting his life on the line?”

Janell took my hand, clasping it in both of hers. “I’m so sorry this happened, Kitt. I know the kind of person you are. Straight arrow all the way. What kind of a person was this man?”

The scum of the earth as far as I’m concerned. “A crook. A druggie. A scofflaw with a long rap sheet. And maybe a sociopath. He’d appeared in court many times before. Chief Gilmore told me he’d never seen the guy show any remorse for his crimes.”

“And in spite of his record, he was still on the street.”

“Yes. Janell, there’s a whole underbelly of society that law-abiding citizens like you and Rex know little about. The police arrest the same people for the same type of offenses time after time. We risk our lives to get criminals off the street only to have the courts release them all too soon back into society where they’re free to commit their crimes again. And again. They get by with no more than a slap on the wrist. It’s discouraging, but it’s no reason for me to have shot a man.”

I frowned, irritated at myself. “Guess I need to rent a hall and give lectures to the public. Sorry I ran off at the mouth like that.”

“Surely the review committee will rule that you shot in self-defense. Surely you’ll be reinstated on the force.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, I’ll know I’m capable of shooting another person. That’s hard knowledge to live with. I’ve disgraced the family as well as myself. ‘Thirty-four years on the force and I never fired my gun.’ That’s what Dad said after he retired. If I heard him say it once, I heard it a hundred times. How can I go on being a cop—even if the review committee allows me the chance?”

“You can do it because it’s the right thing to do and because you’re a strong person, Kitt. You’re not going to let your spur-of-the-minute reaction to a threat to your life ruin the rest of your years on this earth. You have lots to offer today’s society. Think about your future.”

“Sometimes I think I’ve lost my future. With one shot I lost everything—everything of value.”

“Not so. You’ll always have Rex and me.”

“I’ll also have an all-knowing God.”

“And an all-loving God,” Janell said. “Never forget that.”

“Sometimes that’s very hard to remember. And I’m not sure I’m deserving.”

Janell refilled her coffee cup before she spoke again. “What do you really want from life, Kitt? What are your long-term goals and dreams?”

I didn’t spout a glib reply, and I wished she’d stop prodding me for answers to questions I didn’t want to face—or to share. I waited moments before I spoke again, wondering how I could change the subject, but I saw Janell lean forward. I felt her pushing me for a reply.

“I wanted to have a career like Dad’s—unblemished. I want my life to count for something. I want a husband and children and a family life, but I’m thirty-two and the clock’s ticking. I hate the thought of Shelby Cox. Where’s he disappeared to all of a sudden? Some friend! I feel like my life ended with that gunshot. I have little hope of ever getting it back on track again.”

Janell didn’t speak, and I followed her gaze when she looked over her shoulder. A big burly woman opened the garden gate. I squelched my inner vision of a female wrestler, but I welcomed the end of our discussion.

“Hella,” Janell called. “Good morning.” Then turning to me again, she whispered. “Have hope, Kitt. We’ll talk again later. Right now, I want to introduce you to our B&B guest.”

Hella looked like a mountain of muscle—a big-boned person who captured me with her direct gaze. She wore her hair in a thick brown braid that hung down the back of her cream colored shift. TUESDAY. The name of the day was embroidered on the sleeve. Did she have a different shift for each day of the week? The tan fanny-pack belted loosely around her waist matched klunky leather shoes that gave her avoirdupois firm footing as she headed toward the poolside patio.

“Hella,” Janell called again. “Do come meet my sister. Kitt, this’s Hella Flusher. Do sit down and join us for a few minutes.”

Hella and I exchanged greetings while Janell filled a coffee cup and pushed the plate of rolls toward her. Hella chose the chair next to me, and I jumped, startled when I saw movement in the straw tote bag she set on the patio beside her.

“Relax, child. It’s just Voodoo.” A black cat with startling green eyes peeked over the edge of Hella’s tote then ran, disappearing into the tropical greenery at the side of the pool.

“Voodoo?”

Janell laughed. “A neighborhood cat.”

“Belongs to the family next door who recently moved here from Louisiana,” Hella said. “I sometimes take Voodoo with me on my morning stroll. Cats are good company for old ladies.”

All the time the three of us sat visiting, I wanted to ask Hella where she’d been last Friday afternoon. She had the muscle and probably the opportunity to overcome Abra Barrie, but I could think of no motive.

“Janell tells me you’re from Iowa,” Hella said.

“Right. Very cold up there right now. Snow. Ice. Slush. I’m lucky to be here in the sunshine.”

Hella nodded and smiled. “I know all about Iowa winters.” She gave a mock shudder. “As a child I lived in Des Moines. And castles are hard to heat in Iowa even on a fairly warm day.”

“Castles? You lived in a castle? In Des Moines?”

“Right. Years ago, of course. Balmoral Castle. Some folks claimed it was haunted.” Hella looked directly at me, waiting for my response.

Janell raised her eyebrows. “Hella likes to tease.”

I’d never heard of a castle in Des Moines. Hella had dark eyes that seemed to look right into my soul. I fought a desire to squirm under her gaze. Was this woman a liar? If I hadn’t left my computer in an Iowa shop for repair, I’d have looked up Balmoral Castle at my first chance.

“Tell me about your castle.”

“Over a hundred years ago, a self-promoting doctor built it in the style of Scotland’s Balmoral Castle. Later, a senator bought it. His son died there and people say it’s the son’s ghost that still haunts the castle. I lived there when new owners converted it in to apartments.”

“And did you ever see the ghost?”

Hella looked directly into my eyes for several moments before she spoke. “Perhaps I did. Perhaps I didn’t. Doesn’t matter a lot one way or the other. People always doubt what a clairvoyant says.”

Questions sizzled inside me, but Hella stood and changed the subject before I could ask more about the castles, ghosts, or clairvoyants.

“Janell, I see that you’ve brought your croton bush back from death.” Hella stepped off the patio onto one of the flagstones that decorated the garden. “It’s looking much better than it did last week.”

I looked at the plant Hella had stooped to touch. Its colorful multi-colored leaves looked healthy enough to me—reds, yellows, greens, pinks. I wished I knew more about tropical plants.

“I’ve really been babying that croton,” Janell said. “It’s hard to get rid of mites and mealy bugs, but I’ve developed a new pesticide. And just in the nick of time. Those pests were destroying the plant.”

“You telling all?” Hella asked. “Or are you planning to patent your new formula?”

Janell grinned. “I’ll tell all. It’s really a simple remedy—my own variation on an old stand-by. I take three cigarettes and soak them in water overnight, instead of just for an hour or two, in a pint of tepid tap water. The next day I strain that water through a sieve, add it to a pint of warm soapy water, and spray or wipe it onto the underside of the croton leaves. So far, it’s been working like magic.”

“You and Phud both have green thumbs,” Hella said, “but don’t tell Phud I gave him a compliment.”

Janell laughed. “You and Phud need to bury the hatchet. Don’t know what we’d do around here without him—or you, Hella. But Kitt, now would be a good time to see inside the B&B—now while there’s an empty apartment. I’ve placed an ad in The Citizen, and I hope to have it rented soon.”

The B&B had flower boxes attached to the front windows that overlooked the pool, each box boasting an array of brightly blooming petunias. The entry to the apartments opened on the back of the unit and I followed Janell inside the room Abra Barrie had rented. I’d expected only 1 room, but there were 2—a tiny living room big enough for a couch and a TV, and a bedroom with a bath attached. Janell had applied her usual Southern Living touch to the rooms with pastel colored walls and big windows that could be left open to catch the ocean breeze and the sunlight, or closed for privacy with vertical panels on a pull cord.

“It’s lovely, Janell. Wouldn’t mind renting it myself—maybe for the rest of my life. Are the units alike?”

“No. Each has its own decorating scheme.”

I hoped Hella might offer to show me her unit, but no. When we left Abra’s rooms, Hella stood firm in front of her doorway. She didn’t budge. It was almost as if she were daring us to ask to enter.

We didn’t ask.

“It’s been nice meeting you, Hella. Maybe we’ll be seeing more of each other before my stay comes to an end.”

“That’s quite probable.” Hella let her dark probing eyes meet mine in a long gaze. “People never meet by accident, Kitt. There’s a purpose. Maybe we’ll have time to discover what it is.”