Old Bones Never Die Read online

  Frida shook her head. “I didn’t.”

  “Cancer took her,” Grandfather said.

  I was puzzled as to why Grandfather didn’t try to dissuade Sammy and me from visiting the site of the accident. To anyone who didn’t know the old man well, he appeared to be handling the death of one of his grandsons calmly, thoughtfully. I, on the other hand, could tell from the faraway look in his eyes and the slow, rhythmical puffing on his now unlit pipe that something was bothering him. Sammy’s urgent agitation to visit the scene and his insistence I go with him was a signal he wanted some kind of action taken. But what? And why?

  “Well, I just thought I’d let you know the police are on the case.” Frida’s reassurance came not out of official duty but because she was sensitive to the tribe’s concern that police authorities tended to trivialize criminal acts against tribal members.

  “You look beat,” I said to Frida. “You haven’t had much of a day off.” I knew Sammy didn’t want Frida to accompany us to the site, so I gave her an excuse to go home. It was more than an excuse. She needed the rest. Her shoulders slumped with fatigue, and her face appeared to have suddenly developed more lines than I’d noticed before.

  A puzzled look crossed Sammy’s face.

  “Eve can tell you all about it,” Frida said, and waved goodbye as she trudged to her car.

  “She’s right, you know,” I said to Sammy. “We won’t be able to see anything in the dark. Besides, the cops will have covered the scene better than we can.”

  “They were looking in general,” Sammy said. “I know specifically what I’m looking for.” He pushed me gently toward my car. “Grandy can stay here and entertain Grandfather. We’ll fill everyone in when we get back.”

  “What’s going on, Sammy? You and Grandfather have something up your sleeves. What is it?”

  “I need your eyes to help me out. You’re always good at figuring out murder stuff.”

  “Well, technically, it’s manslaughter, but sure, I’d be glad to help. But why now … when it’s more likely the poor light won’t help us find what you’re looking for?”

  “I think you might be wrong. I think the cops might be wrong. We’ll see when we get there.”

  Before I started the car, Sammy reached up to turn on the overhead light. “The state trooper gave me this.” He handed me a tattered wallet. I opened it to find Walter Egret’s driver’s license, a picture of three boys with wide grins on their faces, two dollars, and a bill dated yesterday for a truck’s generator cable.

  “Oh, and twenty-three cents in change. That’s all they found on him.”

  “You think somebody stole his credit cards, is that it?”

  Sammy let out a short bark of a laugh. “You should know us better than that, Eve. When have you known any of us to have credit cards? Well, maybe some of our richer tribal members, but not the Egret family.”

  “But you think something is missing that should be there, so you figure someone robbed him as well as ran him down.” I started the engine and drove out to the road.

  Sammy nodded.

  “What are we looking for and why do you think Walter had it with him?’

  “We’re looking for my father’s pocket watch.”

  I knew Sammy and Walter had different mothers and that their father had left Sammy’s mother soon after Sammy was born. He hadn’t been heard from since. Sammy’s mother was his second wife. She was white while Walter’s mother and the mother of Walter’s brothers was Miccosukee. She had died giving birth to Walter’s youngest brother. Sammy’s mother Renata had told me that she and Sammy’s father had made a poor marriage and that she had left Sammy in Grandfather Egret’s care, but Sammy’s father had simply disappeared with no word to anyone.

  “My father carried a pocket watch, gold with an egret etched on the watch cover. Walter remembered it from when he was a kid. Father would take it out and let my half-brothers play with it. It was an unusual watch. Grandfather described it to me.”

  “So he gave it to Walter, and Walter always carried it with him?” I was still confused about the watch.

  “No, Eve. The watch disappeared along with my father, but Walter called me just after noon today, very excited. He told me he had found the watch on a body unearthed at the construction site near where the river enters the lake. He thinks the body found there was our father’s.”

  “Walter had the watch on him?”

  “I think so.”

  I thought about this. “Then he must have taken it from the construction site.”

  Sammy nodded. “The watch is gone, Eve. What does that make you think?”

  “Maybe you’re jumping to conclusions. He could have left the watch somewhere or with someone for safekeeping. Or, if he had it on him, someone stole it from him after he was hit.”

  “Or it’s more likely Walter took the watch off the body, someone saw him take it, and he was run down for it. That’s my explanation. The cops won’t be interested in pursuing this. They could have taken the watch.”

  I could hear Sammy’s voice shake with indignation and his reasoning take an illogical turn. “Let’s slow down a bit. We don’t have all the facts.”

  Sammy gave a small snort. “Okay, but I need to see for myself.”

  “I know you don’t trust the police because they don’t always deal with tribal members fairly, but what reason would any of them have for taking the watch?”

  Sammy shrugged. Old feelings of distrust didn’t fade easily.

  “Look. We’ll search the area to see if we find the watch. If not, then we need to find out if Walter took it from the site, and if he did, did he leave it somewhere before he was hit.”

  I slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road where the vegetation had been crushed and the ground was churned up with tire tracks. I took out the flashlight I always carry in my car, and Sammy pulled another torch out of his jacket pocket.

  “Yep, this is it.” I swept the area with my light. “I even think I see ….” I stopped talking. The dark stains on the pavement looked like blood. Sammy saw them too.

  Suddenly our world was illuminated by a set of car headlights. Instead of passing us, the car pulled onto the shoulder. I shielded my eyes against the glare to try to identify the individual.

  “It’s me, Frida.” She turned off the headlights, got out, and strode toward us, flipping on her flashlight.

  “I thought you went home because you were tired,” I said.

  “No, you thought I was tired and told me I should go home. I wondered about that. You provided me with a very convenient excuse for not accompanying you out here, and I fell for it. Now, will somebody tell me just what is going on here?” Frida gave me a dark look.

  Sammy stepped forward. “Don’t blame this one on Eve. I didn’t want you at the scene because I had something to hide from you, but maybe it’s better if you know.”

  He told Frida the story of the phone call from his stepbrother.

  “We think he took the watch off the body found in the construction area,” I said.

  “He was the backhoe operator?” asked Frida.

  Sammy nodded.

  “I had a lot of questions for him, and now it seems I can’t ask them. Interesting, but that doesn’t mean he was run down for the watch. Why would someone do that? You know, it could just be a hit-and-run, and the driver jumped out to take a look at what they did, found the watch and nabbed it. It’s probably in some pawn shop right now.”

  Sammy looked skeptical. “It doesn’t bother you that the person who got closest to that body at the construction site is now dead?”

  “Sure, but like I said …” Frida began.

  I’d said little while Sammy and Frida talked through the hit-and-run. “Murder or not,” I said now, “that leaves other questions unanswered.” They both turned toward me. “Who killed Sammy and Walter’s father and dumped him out there? And why?”

  Chapter 3

  Frida remained skeptical about the watch. �
��I believe Walter called you, but you and your brothers have searched for years to find clues about your father’s disappearance. Nothing has shown up. And you haven’t seen the watch Walter claimed he found. Maybe it belonged to someone else.”

  “Walter knew our father’s watch. The etching on the cover is unique. No one else had a watch like that,” Sammy insisted.

  “Still …” Frida began.

  “I don’t know why I told you. You’re just like all the others. You think Walter would make up that story? That I would?” Sammy’s black eyes snapped with anger.

  “No, I don’t,” Frida said softly.

  “You know her better than that, Sammy.”

  He cast down his eyes in defeat, the fire gone. “I thought we’d finally get some answers. That’s why I had to come out here.”

  “You go home and grieve for your brother. Let me work this scene.”

  Sammy nodded and headed for my car. Drawing me to one side, Frida said, “I’ve got this hit-and-run to cover and the body at the construction site. Linc is still sick, and there’s no one at the station to cover for him. I need to listen to the recording of that phone call from Walter. And if you want to be of help, Eve, get a detailed description of the watch and the etching on its cover face. Maybe Sammy or Grandfather can draw you a picture of it. Then you can hit all the pawn shops in this area.”

  My feet almost broke into a happy dance, I was so delighted that Frida wanted my help.

  “And keep your mouth shut about anything to do with this case or the one at the construction site. I know Sammy will be discreet out of distrust of the cops if nothing else, but you?”

  I made the zipping motion across my mouth.

  “Maybe it would be a good idea to take Sammy with you when you look at the pawn shops. And be sure to tell him not to erase that message from Walter. I want to hear it.” She got back into her car and pulled away.

  “What was that all about?” Sammy asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “You and I have been deputized.” I stomped on the accelerator. “Giddy up,” I said to my Mustang as if it was a horse not a car. I was absolutely giddy at the thought of the assignment Frida had given me … uh, us.

  “You are something, Eve.” Sammy leaned over and gave me a quick kiss.

  I dropped Sammy at his house and gave a wave to Grandfather, who still sat on the porch with Grandy. He remained motionless while mosquitoes buzzed around his head in the light. Grandy extracted a small canister from her purse and sprayed her arms and legs, swatting the hungry insects away as she sprayed her hands and spread the concoction onto her face.

  “Doesn’t he mind getting bitten?” I asked Sammy as he got out of the car.

  He cocked his head and squinted at me. “The mosquitoes? He never gets bitten.”

  Sammy retreated down the path to the house and waved goodbye from the porch. Grandy kissed both Egrets and headed to the car.

  “Find out anything?” she asked, climbing into the passenger’s seat.

  “Not what Sammy was looking for.” I started to explain about Walter’s call, but she interrupted me.

  “Grandfather told me about it. It makes Walter’s death look very suspicious, don’t you think?”

  I’d gotten my snoopy nature from Grandy. Maybe I was cloned from her, and my mother had nothing to do with my birth.

  “I think so. Frida stopped by and was not as convinced, although she did give me an assignment.” I related the details of deputy duties to Grandy.

  “That should make you happy.” She patted my hand.

  “I’ll be sure to include you where I can,” I assured her. There was nothing Grandy liked more than joining in a caper. Well, she loved her husband Max more—most of the time anyway.

  Grandy smacked her lips in satisfaction. “Oh, good. You know how I hate being left out.”

  I settled back into the seat with a deep sigh as I shifted into gear and backed out of the parking area. I was tired, discouraged, and regretting how little time Sammy and I had to be together alone. His work schedule, my work schedule. We were lucky to be able to steal away into the swamps in his canoe to our secret getaway, an old shack we’d discovered when lost in the swamp. Recently, it had become the place we went to find each other and make love. It probably wouldn’t sound romantic to most—a chorus of swamp creatures and the solo roar of a bull alligator provided the soundtrack for our passion—but we liked it. I never felt afraid when I was in the swamp with Sammy. It almost felt like it was my home as well as his.

  Our stomachs growled in unison. I looked at my watch, then at Grandy. Past time for dinner.

  “Did you call Max and tell him what we were doing?” I asked.

  Max had recently suffered a heart attack. Because of it, he and Grandy had cut back on their fishing charter business out of Key Largo and had hired another captain to take over their boat for several months. They had moved up here and were living in my spare bedroom until they decided what their future plans were. Max was adjusting to life on the range rather than life on a boat, but I knew he was itching to get back to the Keys. Despite his almost daily fishing in the waters of the Big Lake, it was, according to him, “brown water and small fish.” He was right. The water was the color of strong tea, and no speck, catfish, or bass could match the size of hefty mahi-mahi or mangrove snapper from the ocean waters around Key Largo.

  Grandy held up her cellphone. “I called when I was with Grandfather Egret. Max had just come in from a day on the lake with Captain Mike and has a mess of bass for us. I told him I’d ask if you felt like bass tonight. If not, he can clean them anyway, and we’ll have them tomorrow.”

  I thought about a nice bass filet, but the picture of it on a plate faded, replaced by another, tastier image.

  “I think I’d like a big platter of ribs, slaw, and double fries.”

  “God, Eve, with your dining tastes, if Max and I stay here much longer, we’ll both be as plump as overstuffed turkeys. Mark my words. Someday all this eating will catch up with you.”

  I hoped not, because along with a stiff double Scotch, food was my remedy for the blues. And I felt pretty blue about Sammy and Grandfather having to deal with Walter’s death. That family had enough sorrow with the murder of a nephew several years ago, killed by kidnappers intent upon taking him to a game reserve to be used as prey, the death of Walter’s wife from cancer (although it was many years ago), and the disappearance of Sammy’s father. Now there was Walter. I thought about those three boys of his. Now they had no mother. Who would take care of them? I sighed again.

  “Okay, I know you. You’re feeling bad about Walter and the Egrets and especially about the kids, so I guess we need to get some ribs into you before you slip into a severe depression.”

  Grandy, like Grandfather Egret, was tuned into me like a shortwave radio operator and could read my mind. It was spooky, like I had no privacy, yet there was a kind of comfort and safety in it too.

  When we walked into the Burnt Biscuit, my favorite place for ribs, who should be at the bar but my old pal Nappi Napolitani? I hadn’t seen him for several weeks. I rushed up and threw myself into his arms. He hugged me back with enthusiasm, then turned to Grandy with his usual greeting for her: he kissed her hand. With his impeccable manners and dapper appearance, Nappi acted more like a Connecticut blueblood than a mob guy. I’d met him years back, right after my divorce from Jerry. Jerry had been dating Nappi’s daughter, and thinking she was pregnant, was eager to get my name on the divorce papers. A guy doesn’t delay marrying a gal he gets in the family way if his prospective father-in-law is “connected”—as in Family with a capital goodfellas F. As it turned out, she wasn’t pregnant, and she wasn’t all that eager to marry Jerry anyway—I could relate—but I got rid of Jerry and Jerry got a legitimate job becoming Nappi’s gofer. Well, maybe not “legitimate” in the legal sense, but it was steady work, something Jerry had never been able to pull off while we were married. Nappi had been a good friend, often coming to my
aid or that of my friends and family.

  “Evie, honey.” Jerry peeked out from behind Nappi.

  “I’m not your honey, and don’t call me Evie.”

  “Rumor has it that you’re thinking of going into the private investigating business,” Nappi said with a wicked grin on his face.

  “How did …?” I began.

  “The grapevine. Oh, not the usual Sabal Bay rumor mill. I’m an old friend of Crusty McNabb. He said you paid him a visit.”

  Grandy shot me a concerned look.

  Oh damn. I hadn’t wanted any of my friends or Grandy to know what I was up to, not yet anyway. I knew Frida would keep my confidence, but I didn’t want Madeleine or Grandy to worry I wouldn’t be able to keep up with my responsibilities at the consignment shop, if I decided to go the PI route. And that was still a big if.

  “Just paying him a visit. He’s in a space near our consignment shop. Being neighborly.” I turned my face away from everyone, feigning interest in the Brahman bull head that hung on the back wall of the bar and hoping no one could tell I was lying. Well, it was close to the truth. I did like to meet my business neighbors.

  I fooled no one. Grandy snorted in disbelief.

  Nappi caught the look on my face. “Sorry, Eve. I thought Grandy would be the first to know.”

  “I knew you had something up your sleeve. Grandfather and I were talking about it tonight.” She gave me one of her I-know-you-too-well looks.

  “Do I not have any secrets?”

  “Sure. No one knows where you and Sammy go to be alone,” said Grandy. Nappi nodded, as did Jerry.

  “Okay. It’s something I’m thinking about, something Alex suggested to me.” I signaled to the bartender. “I don’t want to talk about it. And it’s no one’s business where Sammy and I meet. Or if we meet. I need a rib fix and a drink.”

  Max joined us at the bar. “I’ve got a table.”

  “How’s the fishing?” asked Nappi. Max smiled, about to launch into one of his long fish tales.