1 Margarita Nights (7 page)

“Fifteen.” No cigarettes in that drawer either. I turned back to face him and planted a fist on my hipbone. I stared at him hard, waiting.

“It must have been upsetting for you to see your mother beaten.”

Routine would have been the way I’d have described it.

We did some more of the waiting and then he said, “So first you threaten Mr. Leenders and then your husband. You don’t learn, do you?”

“Yeah, I learned. I learned I should have shot the bastard the day before when he tried to rape me instead of waiting and telling Mamma. I would have saved her a tooth and a fractured skull. He’s probably still out there somewhere beating up women and abusing their kids.”

He changed tactics. “I’ve been told your half-sisters were taken away from your mother.”

“Their grandma didn’t take to my daddy when he came along. The twins went to North Carolina to live but I’m sure you know more about that than I do.”

“You don’t have the same father? And then your mother took up with Mr. Leenders.”

“So I come from a family that’s Jerry Springer’s wet dream, what’s that got to do with the
Suncoaster
?” “You know, Mrs. Travis, your attitude doesn’t help you.” It was my first good laugh of the day. People had been telling me the same thing my whole life, but without my attitude I would have been curled up somewhere in a corner sucking my thumb.

“Tell me again where you were yesterday about three, Mrs. Travis.”

“Here, getting ready for work.” Little did he know how much time it took to perfect my white trash look, long straight hair, too tight clothing and too high heels, with more makeup than was wise or necessary.

“Alone?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” I had a question of my own. “Was anyone with Jimmy?” “What do you mean?”

“Jimmy has a friend, Andy Crown. I’m worried that Andy might have been on the
Suncoaster
.”

“His death would bother you, would it, Mrs. Travis?”

“Yes.”

“More than your husband’s?” Outside on the communal walkway someone slammed a door.

“I haven’t been able to reach Andy. His parents haven’t heard from him either.”

“There was no indication of more than one person on board.”

I heard the sound of feet running down the stairs. “Are you sure anyone was on board?” “Someone hit the switch.”

“But did . . . did you find any real evidence that someone was on board?” “What do you mean?”

“Jimmy was mechanical.” I worried my bottom lip. I really didn’t know where I was going with this. I only knew with Jimmy there was always a twist. “Maybe he just wants us to think he’s dead.”

“Why?”

“Dozens of reasons. Take your pick: drugs, debt or an angry husband. Maybe even an angry woman. Who knows what kind of trouble Jimmy was in this time. I just figure he wants to get away without anyone looking for him.” “Would he let his family believe he was dead?” Styles asked.

“Hell, yeah! That boy just never thinks things through.”

“His truck was at the boat ramp.”

“But it would be if he wanted you to think he was dead. Besides, if the past is anything to go by, a finance company will be along real soon to reclaim it.”

“Would your husband send this Andy Crown out to move the boat if he knew it was rigged?”

“Good god, no! Never! He wouldn’t hurt Andy. Or anyone else for that matter! He’s a lot of things, but he doesn’t kill people.”

“Andy Crown’s name did come up . . . unstable, maybe even dangerous. Do you think he could be responsible for your husband’s death?”

“No! No way! He has schizophrenia but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Anger made me confident for a rash minute. “What the hell do you think we are anyway, murderers and maniacs?”

“I’m just asking questions.” He was all reason and control.

“Someone tampered with that fan. If Mr. Crown didn’t do it, then that brings us back to you.”

“And about half the population of Jacaranda! If you look hard enough you’ll find more than a few people who would like Jimmy to disappear from their lives.”

“Let’s concentrate on you. When were you last on that boat?”

I shrugged and turned away to pick up the coffee cup. “Ages ago.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Before I left him.”

His cold unblinking eyes stared at me as if they could read my soul. I forced myself to meet his eyes: tried not to let him see my guilt.

The doorbell rang and I jumped, jarring hot coffee over my hand. Styles still didn’t blink.

The door opened. Evan, carrying a container of flamboyant flowers in each hand, side-stepped into the room to protect the arrangements. “Three of these whoppers arrived before I got my ass out the door this morning.”

I went to help him.

“They’re from the three amigos.” He leaned forward and kissed me. “Lovely cards.”

“This is Detective Styles.” My voice was louder than it needed to be.

Evan looked towards where I was pointing.

Detective Styles was taking it all in. I knew what he was thinking, “So this is the new guy in her life.” Evan would look like one more reason for me to want Jimmy dead.

Evan put down the flowers on the coffee table and became the most respectable of men.

“Hello, I’m Evan Beckworth,” he said, holding out his hand and walking towards Styles. “I work for the
Jacaranda Sun
.” I so didn’t want Evan to tell Styles his name. In twenty-four hours Styles would know everything about Evan except that he was gay and we weren’t lovers.

“Detective Styles, Jacaranda Police Department.” Men sure like to get those credentials right out there, don’t they? Give these two another minute and they’d start telling each other where they went to college and what clubs they belonged to.

Detective Styles started for the door. His hand was already on the knob when he turned back and said, “I’ll be in touch, Mrs. Travis.”

“Give me a cigarette,” I demanded and threw myself onto the ratty couch that Grandma Jenkins had donated to the décor. For once Evan handed the package over without telling me he couldn’t afford to have both of us smoking and went to help himself to coffee.

“What a re the police telling you?” I asked.

“Just the fact that a boat, owned by Jimmy, blew up.”

“Nothing about foul play?”

His back straightened. “Foul play?” If he’d had antennae they would have gone up too and if I’d had the energy to stand up, I would have kicked myself.

“They just have to check in case.”

“In case what?”

“Well, boats don’t normally blow up. They’re just checking to make sure it’s an accident. What else is happening?”

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” Evan said, “your mother just called. She’s been trying to reach you. She’s on the way over.”

I shot off the couch, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.

“Wait,” Evan said behind me.

“No, you wait. I’m out of here.” The last thing I wanted was to get trapped by Ruth Ann.

Marley Hemming was on the stairs coming up as I went through the door. I felt the smile spreading across my face. I met Marley at Kittridge Elementary School and we’d been cheese and crackers ever since. She hasn’t changed much, just gotten taller. With curly red hair and freckles, she’s half an inch taller than me but ten pounds lighter. I never can understand why she’s so skinny when all she ever does is eat, or talk about eating or plan to eat. I hate her.

“Hi, Juice,” I said, the old nickname slipping back.

“Hi, yourself. Going someplace?”

“Dodging Ruth Ann.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said and started back down the stairs.

“Call your mother,” Evan yelled out the door after me.

For once that bile green piece of shit didn’t argue about starting.

“Where we going?” Marley asked.

I shrugged and put the car into reverse. My brain was working overtime, poking in corners, turning over rocks, and sorting things out. There was nothing left for conversation.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Marley suggested.

“All right, but off the island. I don’t want any more sympathy today.”

“Hey, who’s sympathizing with you? Isn’t this what you’ve been yelling you wanted to do?” She lowered her voice in a bad imitation of mine. “I am gonna kill the bastard, I swear.”

“Don’t give up your day job.”

“Seriously, are you all right?”

“Barely.” It was the first time I’d admitted this even to myself.

“Pull over,” she ordered.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

I did as I was told and Marley got out and came around to my side. “I’m driving,” she told me. I slid across to the passenger seat without arguing.

The bridge was up so we waited for a Seafarer sloop to make its way out the channel. A pair of osprey had made a nest on the arm of the stoplight hanging over the road and one of the pair hopped around the nest while the young osprey stretched out their necks for lunch. It seemed strange that life around me was going on as normal when my life had been turned upside down.

I stared out the windshield at the faded board fence screening the neighbors from the parking lot of the burger takeout. “I go from believing he’s dead to thinking it’s all some goddamn gigantic mistake.” I took the hamburger Marley offered me. “More than that,” I could hardly bring myself to continue, “I keep thinking it’s some stupid hoax.”

“I know,” Marley agreed. “That was my first reaction . . . like he’ll just pop back up at any minute, yelling surprise.

Remember the time he was missing for three days and you thought he’d drowned? He walked in like nothing had happened. He knew he was safe so what was the big deal? Hadn’t even thought to call and tell you he was safe.”

“I swear to god if that son of a bitch strolls back into the Sunset and orders a beer, I swear, I’ll take the bar knife to him. I’ll kill him for sure.”

“And I’ll help you,” she promised. “But let’s face it—even for Jimmy this is a bit extreme. He’s never blown anything up before. Did the police find anything that says Jimmy was actually there?”

“I think it’s mostly his truck being there that has them convinced he was on board.”

“The cops must have something, Sherri. Maybe you should ask for more details.”

I set the hamburger on the dash. “Have you got a cigarette?”

She opened the canvas shopping bag that she trucks around and threw a pack of Camels into my lap and then dipped her fingers into my fries and said, “Dr. John always asks a lot of questions about Jimmy and he was awfully cheerful this morning.”