Seventeen —
Hot Words, Cold Beer

“‘This mess we’re in.’ You said it.”

“Murder. Hairballs. You’re the one saying it, Blanche.”

“It is a mess. You won’t believe all that’s happened.” She was bursting to tell him the whole story. Confide in him, just like the old days—when they hung out in the dunes, smoking and drinking orange soda, sometimes with booze they’d stolen from Gran or Cappy. Such times they never held secrets from one another.

But times were different.

Jack slumped in a wicker arm chair on the porch. He’d changed out of the wet trousers into old board shorts from high school. Times were different but he didn’t look it. He was tall and lean, a broad-shouldered athlete nearing forty who hadn’t lost his easy gait and casual grace. “This about the murder? And the development? You going to harp at me about how Chicago is destroying Santa Maria? Are you serious, Bang?”

“Keep an open mind. Please.” She’d wrapped herself in a towel and sunk into a chair opposite Jack. On the table between them he’d placed a bucket of Modelos on ice. “I just want things back the way they were.”

“That’s a big fat laugh. Nothing stays the same.” He opened a beer with his teeth.

“Really, Jack? We’ll need to fix your teeth along with everything else.”

He grinned. “Tell me.” So she did.

She went over details of the murder—and the appearance of the guy and the white van, Cappy’s warning, and Chief Duncan’s lackadaisical reaction. It felt like just the beginning of a horror story.

Jack’s eyes got wider, but he waited until she finished. He was chewing it.

With a deep sigh, she stopped just short of bringing up Langstrom.

But she couldn’t avoid him. He was like an itch she couldn’t get at, and always there.

“Jack, you know Sergi Langstrom, don’t you?”

“Is that a statement of fact, or a question?”

“Come on, Jack.”

“Know him? I know of him.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Yeah, I’ve run across him. You did mention him in that phone call. Remember? And I know that meeting at the town hall didn’t go well. A lot of what you just told me lines up with what I heard from Ben and Josh.”

“From Manatee High?”

“They would be the ones. The murder, et cetera, is discussed far and wide. Except for this business about the guy and the van. Really, B? Do you have any idea how many guys with white vans there are in Florida?”

“I know, I know. But this was different. He didn’t seem to fit. He was creepy.”

“Have you been to the The Drift recently? Plenty of island creepy there in various stages of dress and drink.”

“I guess. But who in the hell would kill Bob?”

“You got me. He was our rock.” Jack tipped his beer and shook his head. “To Bob.”

Blanche drew her knees up. Easy and nonchalant. “So, what’s the word on Langstrom?” She bit her tongue, and leveled her gaze at him. She’d take the gamble he knew more than what he was letting on.

He seemed to measure the question. “Those development folks, including Langstrom, are involved somehow with my new trucking business, and they’re re-thinking their strategy down here. Brecksall and Lam. Their corporation has tentacles. I’m trying to stay out of it, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to entirely.”

It was as if he’d dropped a bomb in her lap. He knew Sergi Langstrom from his business dealings? His new business?

Well, welcome to the small world of the United States, from Chicago to Florida.

“Don’t stay out of it.” She stood and faced Jack. “You have to get in it, and find out all you can about him. He’s shady as hell. The changes he and that bunch want are not good.”

He stood up, tipped the beer bottle back. “Come on, B. Don’t start. You’re making assumptions. Leaping to conclusions is more like it.” He walked toward the end of the porch and looked out through the pines toward the Gulf, a sadness in his eyes. “It’s complicated. And I don’t know what’s going to happen. I just know, I miss you, I miss it. Santa Maria. But in the end, I don’t know what we can do. About any of it.”

“Don’t say that. We have to figure this out.” She didn’t quash the desperate tone. “We need specifics. You’ve got to help, Jack.” She thought of Liza, but he couldn’t help there. Liza’s information was gold and she didn’t want to spend it. She’d keep those revelations about the emails and notes quiet until they knew more.

“Wish I could.” He still didn’t look at her.

“We’ve got another meeting coming up. What do you think? Will Langstrom blow it? Give himself away?”

“I don’t see that happening. The guy’s got millions behind him, Blanche. That’s what I’m saying.”

He clamped his mouth shut and dropped into the chair. Blanche walked back to the kitchen in a zombie state. Her thoughts were making her brain numb and her feet like bricks. She brought out Jess’s chicken salad from the deli and lit a few candles, hoping to shed some light. Jack eyed the chicken. He was ravenous. He gulped down another beer.

Blanche had to dig more out of him, but she waited. She sighed. Some things never changed. If you put a dead horse in front of him, he’d eat the whole thing. With barbecue sauce on it. She hadn’t finished half her beer. She couldn’t eat. She willed herself to be patient, and calm. It would be the only way to get to him. Then he looked up. He couldn’t avoid Blanche’s scrutiny.

“You should probably listen to Cappy,” he said. “Stay out of this, Bang. Keep a low profile.” Even as he said it, he knew he was talking to air.

“Everybody wants me to go away. Keep out of it,” she said. “I can’t let it go. For one thing, we’re not only talking about losing the island. We’ve lost Bob. You know, Bob. Come on, Jack. This can’t all be happening.”

“Well, it is happening. Bad shit happens. That was also one of Gran’s favorite expressions. We just have to deal with it best we can.”

“You told me Langstrom and that bunch are part of your Chicago conglomerate. Why can’t you have some influence there?”’

“They are in a whole other division. I’m new. I don’t know if I can change things.”

“You could. If you gave a damn.” She leaned on the table, her arms taut as boards. She wasn’t being fair, or calm, but she couldn’t shut her mouth. She stood at her full height of just over five feet and stared a hole through him.

Jack lounged in the armchair, gazing out at the water. Jack was being Jack. He could be as stubborn and independent as Blanche, but they were two halves of one whole. They finished each other’s sentences and laughed at the same jokes. They were as close to being brother and sister as any two could be, but just like many siblings, nowhere was it more apparent that two who are most alike can also be most opposed. They had their own opinions, and they fought. Loudly.

“Jack!” Her face was beet red, fists clenched. She flopped back down. “I’ve been counting on you. Maybe you can’t stop the development. But, then, maybe you can do something. You have to ask around! Please?”

He forced a smile. “Blanche, how many ways do I have to say it. It’s not our business, at least this murder investigation isn’t. And as for the development, I don’t know. Let’s see how this plays out. We keep going at the same two problems, and we’re getting nowhere. Really, neither one is our worry right now.”

“You can’t just go back to Chicago like nothing is happening down here.”

“Calm down. I only care about you. The cabin could blow away, and one day it probably will, but I don’t want you to be in danger. Yes, Bob is dead. That is bad, really bad, and the only thing you need to do right now is take care of yourself. I can’t make it any clearer than that.”

“Jack, why are you here?”

“That seems like a fair enough question. I normally don’t just show up in the Gulf to dunk my favorite cousin, and then piss her off.” He was usually pretty good at diffusing a difficult situation with that crooked smile, and he knew it.

“Yeah, well, why? I’m awfully glad you are here.”

“I’m here to see you. You called. Remember? I’m sorry I missed the memorial, but I couldn’t get away.”

“Langstrom. Chicago. And? Out with it.”

“Jeez, you are a regular Rottweiler.”

“That so.”

“I hesitate to say it, Bang. You probably won’t like it.”

“Try me.”

He drew a breath, put his hands flat on the table. “This Sergi Langstrom. I more than ran across him. I have met him. I’ve sort of dealt with him.” Jack looked sheepish.

It was a relief to get somewhere, probably far from the truth, but at least he’d pulled the web a little tighter. “Join the fan club. Who hasn’t run across him? He’s everywhere, and he means to take over. I even met him on the bridge at the beach, and he bandaged my toe.”

“Hmm. I can’t imagine how all that went down, but OK.”

She stood up. “You know he wants to destroy the island.”

Jack pushed his chair back and looked Blanche squarely in the eye. “That’s not exactly the case, B. You have to trust me on this.”

“What are you talking about? I saw the plans, and so did everyone else in that meeting last week. He means to build a mall and take out all the streets and houses. Then he and his bunch will go after the rest of the island and there won’t be a pine tree or a bird left around here. And, again, I just can’t get it out of my head that there is some connection between the murder and Langstrom.”

“Bang, that is preposterous.” He avoided her beseeching look. “Langstrom may be here now, but he works in Chicago, and Bob was here. I don’t think there’s any connection. And why do you keep insisting? You don’t have a single link between the two.”

“They knew each other, and Liza’s got proof. Maybe Langstrom didn’t do it himself. Maybe he and that bunch he’s hooked up with hired someone to get rid of Bob.”

“Oh, great. Your feelings and murder and real estate development? Damn, Blanche, you just aren’t making any sense. And what kind of proof does Liza have? Bob knew him. So. What.”

“I know. It sounds crazy. But I’m going to do this. I’m getting back to Liza, and we’re going to look into this. Together.”

“How? With your detective license?”

“Very funny.” She didn’t see anything funny in this. She was fuming.

Jack glared at her. He was tall, and his size would have been intimidating to anyone but Blanche. She still liked to remind him that once she’d beaten him in arm wrestling.

“B. Please.” Now his tone was gentle. He reached for Blanche and pulled her ear, a signal they had that all was right with the world. Their world.

She jerked away, her teeth digging into her lower lip, and threw herself back down in the chair. Jack paced up and down the porch.

“All I can say is that I know a little about the guy, and I don’t think it is going to be as bad as all that. He’s definitely not a murderer, so just drop it. And, in just the little we’ve met, I started to think that he genuinely wants to work with us on the development. I hate to bring it up. But that’s it. That’s all I can say.”

“Don’t even put Langstrom and genuine in the same sentence. Except to say he’s a genuine phony.”

“Genuine phony. Really.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, and there’s no proof of what you say, Blanche.”

“We’ll see. If everything is so great, why do you all keep telling me to back off? What harm is there in asking a few questions?” She drew her legs up under her, and curled into a ball. She looked like a bun with a burned top. She was beyond disappointed, and now she was getting angrier by the minute. Every day seemed to end the same way, and it wasn’t getting any better.

“It’s the murder. Why take the chance?” In the low light, he seemed to be fading away.

“I’m begging you.”

“We’ll talk. You know that. Let’s wait until we know more. But right now we know zilch.”

She needed sleep. She’d talk to him in the morning. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was not going to back off. Ever. Except now, to go to bed. Get some wits about me, as Gran would say. It was one of the wisest decisions she’d made all day.

“Your room is made up, towels in the closet.” She jumped up and pushed the wicker chair out of her way, almost toppling it over. She put her hands on her hips and blew out the candles, leaving them almost totally in the dark. “Good night.”

When Blanche got up the next morning, the sun was shining, which it usually did before a hurricane, and Jack was gone. He’d left a note on the dining room table: PLEASE, listen to me. Be careful, and just leave it alone. I love you. Jack.