Mrs. Warren collapsed against Moses. “We could have been inside there if the two of you hadn’t come along.” Their dog barked at the fire, showing some animation for a change.
Frida nodded. “You were right, Eve. They didn’t know anything about her husband still being alive, and he’s determined no one finds out he’s not dead.”
“But people do know. We’re on to him,” I said.
“He doesn’t think so. He’s certain he’s covered his tracks. His only worry was seeing his wife with Moses on Reed’s property last night. Now he’s sure he’s taken care of that problem.”
“I think we shouldn’t allow him to think otherwise or he’ll try again.” I watched as Mrs. Warren cried into Moses’ shoulder and the dog whimpered, its tail between its legs.
Frida chewed on her thumbnail. “Now I have to decide what to say to my boss. Knowing that Sheriff Leopold was buddies with Reed in the army and that he might also have known Warren makes me uncomfortable. If my boss tells him what we know—”
“Why tell him anything? You said yourself you’d have to check Nappi’s information. Until you do, it’s not official.”
“There’s Mrs. Warren and Moses Ermlich to consider. I think you’re right, Eve. They need to remain dead for now or Hunter will take another shot at them.” Frida spun around on her heel and looked back at the house. “Let’s see if we can make Mr. Hunter’s life a little uncomfortable. Eve, do you think you can find a public phone in town some place? One that still works?”
I thought for a few minutes. “I think there’s one at the gas station down from the intersection of the roads leading to the casino and the state park. It’s not far from here.”
“Good. We need to call in a tip about the fire from a phone that doesn’t lead back to one of us. Tell the police you think you saw a man at the fire tonight and give them Hunter’s description and the description of the truck. And be sure to mention the Reed ranch sticker on the truck.”
“Okay. Will do. That ought to make him squirm a little when the cops come to pay him a visit.”
Frida’s lips formed a satisfied smile. “We all saw what happened tonight, and it’s our duty as good citizens to call it in, but it’s also my duty to protect us. I’ll have to make up some story about why I was out here.”
“You’re going to lie?” I was shocked. Frida was a by-the-book kind of cop.
“Not at all. I was driving out this way, and I saw a house in flames. I’ll just leave out anything else for the time being. However, the fire department will comb the house for bodies and—”
“It’ll take some time for them to find there are none, won’t it?” I asked.
Frida nodded.
“By then, something will break. Meantime, Mrs. Warren and Moses can bunk at my house.” It was usually filled with visitors anyway. A few more couldn’t make a difference.
Frida gave me a penetrating look. “ ‘Something will break,’ you said. Just what were you referring to, Eve? Something’s afoot, something that involves your not-so-worried-about-how-legal-the-plan-is friend, Mr. Napolitani.”
I gulped. Frida could read me so well.
“He’s going to do a little hunting at the Reed ranch on Sunday. That’s all. Just to determine the lay of the land. Nothing illegal about that, is there?”
“If you and he hatched it, then there’s got to be something funny going on.”
The sounds of sirens interrupted our conversation. One of the neighbors must have already called in the fire. Mrs. Warren still clung to Moses, crying softly into his shoulder. The dog just sat staring at the fire—what energy it had, spent. At the sound of the fire trucks, the dog began to howl and Mrs. Warren wiped her eyes and looked back at her burning house. “Maybe it’s time for a new beginning. That house held too many bad memories.”
“You’ve lost all those pictures of your son—” I said.
“I’ve got this one left, taken several months before he died.” She pulled a snapshot out of the small purse she’d snatched off the counter. “And copies of his baby pictures and others from his childhood are at his grandmother’s house. And of course, if there were any of his father still left in there, I’m glad they’re gone.”
“I think you should get out of here before someone from the police or fire department spots you. As for me….” Frida gave me a wave and began to walk toward the house. I knew she didn’t relish concocting a story about the fire, but I hoped she’d only have to prevaricate for a short time about what she knew. She wouldn’t lie; she’d just sidestep the truth until her conscience got to her. I hoped that would be sometime after Nappi came back from the Reed ranch. Maybe we’d know more then.
I hustled Mrs. Warren, Moses, and the dog into my car and headed for the back way out of the neighborhood. I patted my chest where my amulet rested between my breasts. Maybe it had nothing to do with our getting out of the house before it went up in flames, but I’d never be without it again.
Well, I thought to myself as I drove home, I had a bit of explaining to do to Alex. That could wait until tomorrow. I struggled to keep awake. Why did crime fighting always seem to involve lack of sleep? Did criminals lose sleep or were they up nights also? I hoped so. I gritted my teeth and focused on the road ahead.
This was going to be a great day, I said to myself as I drove down the Bee Line Highway toward West Palm and the clients there who would be only too happy to see me and consign their Western duds to our store. I’d visited clients yesterday also, collecting items for the rodeo. I rolled down the window and hummed a little tune as I sped by a pair of Sand Hill Cranes and their gawky young offspring breakfasting by the side of the road.
Everything was coming together, I told myself, although I couldn’t say just how Jerry had reported that Madeleine had done well driving with him the other night. No more dings or scrapes on the rig. That meant the trees and wildlife on the canopy road to Stuart were safe for the day. Mrs. Warren and Moses Ermlich were securely ensconced in my guest bedroom, having been warned not to go out or make contact by phone with anyone. The dog was staying with one of Frida’s friends who ran a dog boarding business out of her home.
Frida decided her boss didn’t need to know they had escaped from the burning house, at least not yet. She rationalized her silence by pointing out that she wasn’t involved with the homicides of either David’s client or Sammy’s nephew Bernard, so why would she know anything of an official nature about anyone connected with the Reed situation? I wondered how long she could continue to tell herself that before she broke down and spilled what she knew to her captain.
I pushed that little worry out of my head and focused on the conversation I’d had with Alex Thursday morning when he dropped by for coffee. Our talk went amazingly well, but then, what was done was done. I had house guests and now he had something important to tell David about the case. Alex and I agreed that Madeleine should be kept in the dark about everything concerning Mrs. Warren, Moses Ermlich, the fire, and Mr. Warren, aka Hunter. No sense in worrying her or giving her what might turn out to be false hope for David’s release.
And then there was Elvira Reed’s grand opening party on Saturday. I could hardly wait. I had no idea of what I wanted to say to her or what I would do, but I was itching to see her face when Madeleine and I took her up on her invitation. I knew she’d sent it to be bitchy, shoving it in our faces that she had a shop and we didn’t. Correction. We did have a shop. Ours rolled. Hers didn’t. Whatever might happen at her place this afternoon, I’d never buy a thing from her. I was certain of that. Unless she had some shoes I couldn’t resist. I mentally slapped that awful thought out of my head and drove into the morning sun.
My first stop at Jeannette Randolph’s netted me very little merchandise—only one Western shirt, and it was a small petite, a size that was difficult to sell. Most of the gals in Sabal Bay were womanly in their proportions. True, some of the anorexic matrons from West Palm might be able to fit into it, but it was a horrible blue plaid that I had little hope of pushing on anyone with taste. Further, Jeannette seemed eager to get me out of the house in a hurry.
My next stop, only two blocks away, shed some light on what was going on. Marjorie Sinclair—my client who had told me not to worry about Elvira as competition—answered the door. The warmth of her smile made it clear she was happy to see me. When I told her that I was here to pick up any items she might have for the rodeo, she gestured for me to follow her down the hall to her bedroom.
“I’ve been meaning to get up to Sabal Bay to drop these off and save you a trip down here, but I’ve been busy. I heard you wanted items for the rodeo, so here you go.” She pulled several large bags out of her closet. “My friends and I got this together knowing you could use the merchandise.”
“I’m so grateful to you.” I grabbed both bags while Marjorie stepped back into her walk-in and pulled several more bags from the back of the closet.
“No, no. We’re grateful to you to be able to sell our items. Each of the items is tagged with the name of the owner.”
“I stopped by Jeanette’s just now, but she didn’t have much. Too bad! She’s such a clothes horse that I was certain she’d load me down.”
Marjorie leaned against the closet wall. “I hate to tell you this, but she’s been consigning with that Reed woman. So have some of the others.”
“Damn.”
“Most of us have remained loyal to you.”
“And I appreciate it, but I know it’s been difficult. Now that we don’t have a location, at least one that doesn’t move, it’s hard to find us unless you hop over in the evening and catch us in our parking slot at the market. Some of you have done that, even though it’s inconvenient.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s not a problem. It’s an adventure. It works out just fine for those of us who want to take in the sights in Sabal Bay and then do a little dancing at the Biscuit.”
“What ‘sights’ are you talking about?” I asked.
“Well, you know. That airboat tour. I’ve been on it twice this month.” She winked at me.
I laughed. “You devil you. You’re not talking about taking in the tour. You’re talking about drooling over my friend Sammy.”
“Well, yes, and then there’s that real cowboy experience at the Careful Ranch. You know, riding, learning to rope, bullwhip cracking.”
“Now that’s one I’ve not done yet. I guess I should check it out.” I picked up two bags, and Marjorie got the rest. We toted them out to my car.
“I hear Elvira Reed is having a grand opening Saturday,” said Marjorie. “I got an invitation, but I’m not going.”
I dumped the bags in the trunk. “Why not? It might be fun. If you come in the late afternoon Madeleine and I will be there.”
“Now that I’d like to see. I’ll bring the other girls who’d like to see Mrs. Reed take a tongue lashing from you.” Marjorie chuckled and walked into the house.
The rest of my stops yielded many more items, so that by the end of the day my trunk was full.
“You know,” I said to Madeleine as we spent the evening sorting through the clothes I’d collected, “once David is back at the ranch, I think we should set up a day of shooting for our customers on the coast. I think the women would love it.”
“What made you think of that?” asked Madeleine.
“Marjorie said her friends like to come over here to take in the sights. That’s one they’ve not yet done.”
“They might never get to do it if we can’t get David out from under these murder charges.” Madeleine sunk into a chair, a look of despair on her face.
I was tempted to cheer her up by telling her what we knew about Mr. Warren, but I wasn’t sure how any of this would turn out, so I kept the information to myself.
I dropped to my knees in front of her and grasped her hands. “You know this will be over and soon. Alex is working on it.”
Her face brightened for a moment. “He’s discovered something? What? Tell me.”
“Well, nothing for certain yet, but he’s working on it.”
The sunny look on her face faded back into sadness. I missed her bright smile and the twinkle in her eyes. Would my friend never be happy again?
“And Nappi’s going to the ranch on Sunday,” I reminded her.
Madeleine got out of the chair, and with a resigned sigh, reached for one of the bags of consigned clothes. “I know. Now let’s get this stuff tagged and ready for Saturday. First we sell, then we take on Elvira Reed.”
I didn’t like the angry look on Madeleine’s face. Did she have an agenda of her own to run with Elvira tomorrow, something she wasn’t sharing with me? Because Madeleine’s mood shifted in a flash to her usual outgoing and upbeat persona, I wondered if I’d just imagined her rage.
“Are you thinking of doing something, uh, rash tomorrow at Elvira’s?” I asked.
“What do you mean by that?” She didn’t look at me, but continued pulling clothes out of the bag and tossing them onto the table.
“Madeleine, what are you planning?”
“I don’t have to share it with you. You’re always scheming and concocting plans with your friends, and I get left out. And, when something important comes up, you don’t tell me. You hide it, like you think I can’t handle the truth or I should be protected from ugly stuff. Well, let me tell you, Eve Appel, I’m one tough cookie. I may be small, but I’m made of steel.” She stood up and flexed her arms. “See? Muscles.”
It was such a humorous image. My Madeleine dressed in her usual feminine ruffles and flounces, looking as if she was competing for a body building contest.
I opened my mouth to say something, but she interrupted. “And my mind is sharp as steel too.”
“I’m hurt that you think I think you’re a wimp,” I said. If she knew I’d been keeping things from her, it might be best to put her on the defensive, find out if someone had spilled the beans about Mr. Warren/Hunter.
As suddenly as she had turned into Wolverine, she plunged back down into the couch, sheathed her claws, and once more became the Madeleine I knew.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Eve. I am kind of a wimp in ways, but you know how resilient I am. I learned how to drive the rig, didn’t I? And I know you’d never keep anything really important from me, anything that might have to do with David’s case. I guess I’m so mad at Elvira Reed I can’t think straight. I’m dead certain she was responsible for our shop burning down. Don’t you agree?”
Well, perhaps it wasn’t Elvira’s well-manicured hand that lit the fire, but I still pictured Hunter’s arm tossing that Molotov cocktail into the Warren house last night. Elvira might have had help.
I nodded. “Maybe you shouldn’t go to the grand opening. I’ve never seen you so angry before. You might—”
“Trip over a mannequin into a counter full of jewelry which would plunge to the floor causing other customers to fall into one of the clothing rounds tipping it into the display windows breaking the glass which could let in the wind and rain soaking all of the silk dresses and fur coats ….” She paused to take a breath.
“You do have a plan, ya little minx!” I giggled at the images Madeleine’s story evoked.
“You know how clumsy I am. I can’t help myself.”
Madeleine demonstrated her klutziness by beginning a pirouette which ended in her spinning off balance toward our one-armed mannequin. Before she could crash into it, a hand reached out and grabbed her. I hadn’t noticed Sammy enter the rig.
“Sammy. And just in time too. I haven’t seen you since ….” Oh, oh. I’d been about to reveal Alex’s and my trip to the Reed ranch, something Madeleine didn’t need to know, especially after her outburst claiming I kept things from her.
“I thought you might like to know that I spotted Mrs. Warren and her friend Moses hitchhiking on the road toward the casino. I picked them up and gave them a ride as far as the turnoff to Clewiston. They wanted me to tell you thanks for the place to stay but they felt safer getting out of town. I was surprised to see them. The story going around is that they died in that fire last night.”
Madeleine’s earlier playful mood was gone. “Is there something you want to tell me, Eve?”
No, I did not want to tell her anything, but I knew I had to. Perhaps more important than updating my dear friend was finding my house guest/escapees before they blew the story Frida and I had concocted to keep them safe.
“Leave the clothes for now.” I grabbed Madeleine and pulled her out of the rig and into my car. I tossed the motor home’s keys to Sammy. “Turn off the lights and lock up, would you? Jerry should be by soon to keep an eye on things. I’ll explain later.”
“Where are you off to?” Sammy asked.
“I’ve got to get those hitchhikers off the road before someone sees them.”
I stomped on the accelerator and threw gravel as we sped off.
“You got your seatbelt fastened?” I asked Madeleine.
She said nothing, crossed her arms over her chest and stared arrows of anger and disappointment at me.
As I swerved to avoid a large turtle in the road, I explained about the identity of Hunter and the fire at the Warren house last night.
“So you can see why it’s important to keep those two out of sight, for their own safety.”
“I see that, but why did you think you should keep all this from me? I wasn’t the one threatening their well-being.”
“Well, of course not. We just didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
“Why not? It seems pretty obvious to me that Hunter is Warren and that he set up David to get back at him for shooting his son. Frida should be arresting him and letting David out.”
“It’s not as simple as that. We don’t have any proof Hunter is the one who shot that hunting client of David’s.”
“But you did see him set fire to the Warren house,” Madeleine said. “Why doesn’t Frida arrest him for that? His role in setting up David would come out when she questioned him.”
I wished Madeleine’s view of justice was correct, but I suspected Hunter would simply ask for a lawyer and keep his mouth shut. We needed more people than Hunter in jail. I wanted to get Hunter, Reed, Elvira, and Sheriff Leopold in for questioning so that they could spill the beans on one another. They were somehow involved in two murders aimed at setting up David and his foreman for the crimes. I could see Hunter’s motive—to destroy David’s life as payment for his son’s death—but there was something else going on, something that involved kidnapping Sammy and then releasing him. Oh boy, my head hurt trying to figure this out. I shared with Madeleine my thoughts, at least the ones that made sense. She was quiet for a few minutes, then spoke.
“So what’s our plan?”
Okay, there was that plan thing again, as if I had one or should have. I’d need to come up with something. I usually had some kind of plan, even one that didn’t work. Today I had nothing. I was depending on Nappi’s visit to the ranch on Sunday to do something, I didn’t know quite what. Until Sunday, it was important for Hunter to believe he was safe. To do that, I had to get Mrs. Warren and Moses Ermlich back where they belonged in the land of the recently deceased.
“Isn’t that Frida’s car?” Madeleine pointed to a vehicle stopped alongside the road.
The sun had gone down, making it difficult to identify the person outside the vehicle, but that person was a woman and she was talking to two others standing with her.
I slammed on my brakes and pulled over behind them. Frida leaned toward the other two people, and her body language told me she was furious at them. I caught the tail end of her comments.
“What the holy heck are you two doing here, out in the open? You’re supposed to be dead. Not only are you risking your lives, but you’re jeopardizing any chance we have of arresting Hunter for murder.”
I joined in. “To say nothing of what you’re doing to Frida’s career. She stuck her neck out by covering up for you.”
“But Maimie,” Moses gestured toward Mrs. Warren, “received a call on her cell from Hunter. He knows we’re still alive.”