Trawling for Trouble Page 6
“We played football together in high school. We went to college. I finished and went to LA. He ran out of money, and instead of becoming an engineer, turned to a life of crime. Petty crime. He also works at a garage.” He sighed. “Sucks.”
“You like him.”
“Well, I liked him in high school. I haven’t had much to do with him since. We run in different circles.”
“But you knew who to call when you needed information about the body.”
“I thought he was as good a bet as any around here.”
“Did you tell Bill what you were doing?”
“Hell no. I didn’t know if it would yield any information at all. And I certainly wouldn’t risk Harve getting involved. Besides I didn’t know that it was going to turn into a big mafia deal.”
“But you had your suspicions?”
“Let’s just say I had a bad feeling.”
“Reporter’s instinct?”
Chaz didn’t answer, since he’d bitten into his sandwich and his mouth was full of peanut butter. They ate their sandwiches and washed them down with coffee.
Chaz took their cups back to the sink and looked at his watch. “Well that took twenty minutes. I don’t guess you brought a pack of cards.”
Liv shook her head. “Tell me what you know about Jimmy the Snail.”
Chaz began rummaging around the cabinets. “Don’t know anything about him. But if Mouse is right and the corpse was him, and Seamus and Gus are involved, we’ve got some big trouble. If they’re not involved, but the corpse is still Jimmy the Snail . . .” He shook his head. “We’re still in big trouble. What a hell of a nickname.”
“Because he was slimy or slow?” Liv wondered aloud.
“Both, probably. Anyway. If it is him and his people think he had something that belongs to them, things could get dicey.”
“And Celebration Bay being the gossip capital that it is, it’s bound to slip that we found the body, and that Seamus and Gus were taken in for questioning, so those same people might come after us, or them.”
“Not to mention come after the Marlton-Crosbys, who own the camp, or Manny the manager, or—”
“Oh, no!” Liv cried.
“What?”
“Or the sisters. I left Manny a note to say that I’d taken the fish to the Zimmermans. We have to get back. What if they come and find it? Would they follow it to the sisters?”
“I don’t know. This is all conjecture so far. It might not be Jimmy the Snail. It might be some victim of a bar fight or domestic violence.”
“Did Bill say there had been any reports of local killings?”
“No, but I didn’t ask him.”
“We need to get back.”
“You need not to lose your head. But . . .”
He took out his cell phone.
“Are you calling Bill?”
“No, our hour’s almost up. I’m texting Mouse to let him know we need to leave.”
He sent the text and waited.
“You know the cops can trace that.”
He pulled out a second cell phone. “They can trace this.” He held up the one he’d texted from. “But not this.” It pinged. Chaz looked at it. “Let’s go,” he said and tossed the phone into the water.
It disappeared in an instant.
He climbed up to the helm. Liv crushed the trash, stuffed it in her pocket and followed him up.
It seemed to take forever to get back to the fish camp.
The sky was just lightening when Chaz cut back the throttle and cruised back into the dock. Everything was quiet. The Seaworthy sat at the other side of the pier, just like it had when they left. There were no cars in the lot, no sign of movement in the woods.
Liv blew out a relieved sigh.
Chaz tied up the Truth and climbed out of the boat. “Stay there.”
“No way,” Liv said. “I’ll take my chances with you.” She scrambled up to the pier and hurried after him.
She knew before she even crossed the pier to the Seaworthy that something was wrong.
“Damn,” Chaz said as she reached him.
Damn was right. The old boat looked like a battlefield. The storage cabinets had all been opened, and doors were torn from their hinges, the contents spilled on the floor. Someone had been really mad. The old, dank cushions had been slashed and disemboweled.
Chaz jumped down. He did a quick inspection of the deck, looked in the cabin, then disappeared inside. Liv crossed both fingers that he wouldn’t find Seamus and Gus dead on the Seaworthy. Maybe they had gotten into some bad company, but they didn’t deserve this, and they certainly didn’t deserve to die over whatever Jimmy the Snail might have stolen. She stayed on the pier, looking in all directions. Was sure she heard a car; then a boat; then footsteps; but they were all figments of her panic.
Chaz’s head appeared from the cabin, then the rest of him. “The place has been tossed.” He frowned at her.
“What?”
He shook his head, climbed out of the boat, and headed up the pier toward land. He was going toward the office, but, panicked, Liv ran past him.
“Liv, wait.”
She stopped with her hand on the knob. What was she thinking? They could be inside right now. And if Chaz hadn’t stopped her she could have walked right into the culprits, whoever they were.
Chaz eased past her and opened the door.
“I could have done that,” she said and followed him in.
They walked into a scene worse than what they’d seen on the Seaworthy. Whatever had been on the shelves was on the floor. Rods were snapped in two; reels, gears, lures, were all jumbled in a pile. Seat cushions and life preservers had been slashed and strewn across the floor.
Liv rushed to the freezer. The key was missing, and so was her note. She looked frantically around.
“The note I left is gone.”
Chas dropped to his knees and began rummaging around the floor.
He found the key, but not the note.
“Stand back.”
“Stop bossing me around.”
“You want to open the chest and see if Manny’s frozen body is in there?”
Liv stepped back.
Chaz unlocked the freezer, lifted the top. “Whew. Nothing big enough to be Manny.”
Liv didn’t mention the possibility of body parts. She’d seen those mob movies. And she was pretty sure Chaz had, too.
She moved into the office. It was dark. She felt around the wall and found the switch. The desk had been ransacked, the drawers forced open; papers, pencils, a pack of cards littered the floor. The chair had been turned upside down.
Liv searched through the papers looking for her note. “It’s gone. They must have taken it. But why take a note about a fish?”
“Maybe since they couldn’t find whatever they’re looking for they decided to try another lead.”
“Oh no.” Liv fumbled in her pocket for her cell and frantically tapped in the sisters’ number. On the fifth ring, Chaz grabbed the phone and hung up.
“They’re probably out walking Whiskey or going to the bakery for breakfast. Why didn’t you let me leave a message?”
“Because if they’re at home and if the guys who did this are already there, we don’t want them to know we’re on our way. They might get nervous.”
He tossed her phone back, and she almost dropped it; she was suddenly fumble-fingered and frightened.
He pulled out his own cell. Made a call. “Bill.” Chaz explained what had happened. “Do you still have Seamus and Gus?”
He listened. “Damn. Meet us at the sisters’ house, bring backup, but don’t use a siren.” He hung up. “Come on.”
They raced to the car. Chaz jumped in and started the motor. They were careening up the rutted road before Liv finished buckling her
seat belt.
“You don’t think Gus and Seamus wrecked their own boat, do you?”
“I don’t think they’re that crazy. But they may be going after whoever did.”
Liv groaned. “But what do they have that the others want?”
“Whatever Jimmy the Snail stole.”
“But why come here? Would they have trashed the Truth, too, if we hadn’t been gone?”
“Probably. I wonder . . .”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“You can’t just say ‘I wonder’ and stop.”
“You’re getting hysterical.”
“I’m worried about Miss Ida and Miss Edna.”
“Me, too. If Gus and Seamus got into something over their heads, whoever is looking for them won’t be far behind. It’s not looking good.”
Liv’s phone rang. “It’s Bill.” She answered, then listened. When she hung up, she told Chaz, “Seamus’s cabin has been trashed, too, and there’s no sign of Seamus or Gus. Bill thinks the two of them went after whoever trashed the place.”
“I’m afraid they’ll all converge at Edna and Ida’s,” Chaz said and floored the accelerator, only slowing down when he turned the corner and drove past the Zimmermans’ house. “Looks like a party.”
Two beat-up pickup trucks were parked on one side of the street, Gus and Seamus’s and Manny’s, and across from them—a black sedan with tinted windows.
“Oh no,” said Liv.
Chaz slowed as they passed the sedan. “See if there’s a driver in the car.”
Liv pressed her nose to her window and peered at the driver’s side.
Chaz yanked her back. “What are you doing, do you want to get shot?”
“You told me to look. I couldn’t tell for certain. It’s too dark.”
“Sort of the point of tinted windows,” Chaz snapped.
Liv flinched.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Actually, it was good to see Chaz, the imperturbable, unnerved for a change. She knew it was because he was worried about the sisters. He drove on. “Where are we going? We’re not going to wait for Bill, are we?”
Chaz turned at the next corner and parked. “No. But we’re going to hope he arrives with backup before we get there.”
Liv started to get out. Chaz leaned over and shut her door.
“Don’t tell me to stay here and wait for Bill.”
“Not here, but wait outside to direct him where to go. I’m going to put my cell phone on speaker. Hopefully, you’ll be able to hear some of what’s going on inside and clue Bill in.”
“You can’t go in by yourself! What if they shoot you?”
“You care?” Chaz said.
“Of course I care, damn it.”
He leaned over and kissed her, hard and fast, and jumped out of the car.
She could only stare after him. What the heck was that about? He’d just— he was leaving her in the car. Now she got it. Fluster her so she would stay behind. Not happening. She jumped out of the car and followed him through the backyards of three houses to the Zimmermans’ garden.
She kept her distance. She knew it was important for her to wait for Bill, she just didn’t like it. She watched Chaz sneak toward the back of the house, wondering how many times he’d been called on to do this kind of snooping when he’d been an investigative reporter in Los Angeles. How many times he’d had to risk his life. How many times he’d had to risk the lives of others. No wonder he didn’t want to get involved.
She promised herself she would be more sympathetic in the future. If there was a future. Maybe he wasn’t sure there would be a future. That must be why he’d kissed her.
Chaz paused under a window. Listened. Shook his head. No one was on the enclosed porch. He continued around the near side of the house. Paused again, longer this time. Then he pointed upward and looked back at where Liv was waiting behind a forsythia bush.
They were in the kitchen. But how many of them were there?
Chaz was still under the window. She didn’t know what he was waiting for until she saw the partially opened window. The sisters hardly ever had to use air conditioning because of the attic fan.
Liv watched him while she listened for the sound of a car, hopefully Bill’s cruiser. Chaz turned and held up his finger, then another. Then shrugged.
What? Again one, two, and the shrug.
Two people maybe? At least that he could hear. She gave him a thumbs-up. Everything seemed to stop for an eon, then Chaz bolted around the house and ran up the back steps.
Something must be happening. Liv’s first instinct was to run after him. But discipline was called for now, no matter how much she wanted to help, or how afraid she was that Bill wouldn’t arrive in time with backup.
She watched as Chaz yanked the back door open and stepped inside. She also heard a bark. They had Whiskey! “You better not hurt my dog,” she said through clenched teeth.
Liv eased forward, staying as low to the ground as she could. Moved from the forsythias to a rhododendron, then to a buddleia bush—which wasn’t nearly as much cover, but she had to see what was going on.
She slowly slid her hand through the branches and peered out. Strained to hear anything, then reared back when a pop sounded from the house. Almost immediately the kitchen window exploded into a million pieces of tiny glass shards, and Liv forgot about discipline and waiting for Bill and ran straight for the back door.
Chapter 9
Liv didn’t even make it into the house. She was grabbed on the porch before the screen door slammed behind her. It never slammed and she realized—much later—that someone had shoved his foot in the opening to deflect the sound. At the same time he was smothering her with his palm.
She didn’t even bother to scream. She knew who it was. She immediately relaxed, and Chaz slowly released the hand he had covering her mouth, then turned her around and put his finger to his lips.
As if he needed to remind her to be quiet. Then again, she had run across the yard half tilt in full panic.
When she finally made eye contact with him, he pointed in the direction of the mudroom that led to the kitchen.
A man stood with his back to them, perfectly framed by the open kitchen doorway. Liv could see him brandishing a pistol at a wide-eyed Edna and Ida, who held Whiskey in her arms. The sisters must have already taken him for his morning walk, as they invariably did when Liv was not at home.
Liv didn’t see Seamus or Gus. Hopefully they were safe somewhere else. They were ornery and maybe a little weird, but she didn’t want them to either be murderers or get murdered.
She looked a question at Chaz, and mouthed, Who?
Even before Chaz could answer, the man holding the gun turned slightly, and Liv recognized Manny Corada, the manager of the fish camp.
Maybe he and the old fishermen were in on it together, whatever it was. But why come here?
Stupid question. He’d probably seen her note saying that she’d taken the fish to the Zimmerman sisters. He probably thought “fish” was code for “a hundred HDTVs” or “two hundred cartons of cigarettes.” Whatever contraband had brought them in contact with Jimmy the Snail.
And now the sisters and Liv’s dog were being held at gunpoint and it was pretty much Liv’s fault.
Whiskey must have seen her, because he suddenly barked and wriggled out of Miss Ida’s arms. He sped across the linoleum floor toward Liv.
At the same time Manny whirled around, gun bobbling in the air, and Chaz dove for his feet.
The gun went off again, this time into the ceiling, spraying plaster down on all of them.
Seamus had risen out of nowhere and was helping Chaz subdue Manny, which he accomplished with a fist that exploded into Manny’s jaw. Manny slumped to the floor.
Chaz and Seamus both stood up
. They looked down at the body and nodded brusquely to each other. The best of a tag-team match.
Everyone began to talk and move at once. Liv saw Gus lying on the floor, and she hurried into the kitchen. At first she was afraid he was dead, but a groan told her he was still alive.
“What happened to him?” she asked as she knelt down beside him and Whiskey sniffed at his clothes. They smelled like dead fish and poor hygiene. Doggie heaven.
Liv stood. “Why was Manny here? What did he want?”
Edna leaned over to look down at Gus. “Seamus and Gus came to tell us that they needed the fish. They’d promised it to someone else, and they’d bring us a bigger one.”
“Obviously they didn’t really mean the fish,” Ida added. “I mean, no one in their right mind would hold hostages at gunpoint over a fish.”
“Of course not, they weren’t talking about a fish,” Edna said. “But we were about to go get it, to humor them, you know, when Manny Corada burst in, flashing that pistol around, saying he saw your message and he wanted the goods and to stop holding out on him.”
“That’s when we figured out that Seamus and Gus must have stolen something,” Ida said. “But it didn’t make sense. Liv, you didn’t bring anything else over, did you?”
“No,” Chaz said, coming over and looking at Gus, who was beginning to stir. “But they’re mixed up with some nasty people and we need to get you out of here until Bill arrives.”
“I’ll get my purse,” Miss Ida said.
“No time. Liv, take the sisters out the back now and don’t stop anywhere, just walk to the next street and keep walking away from here.”
“But you stopped Manny,” Edna said. “We can keep him trussed up until Bill gets here.”
Chaz shot Liv a desperate look.
“Right. Come on Miss Ida, Miss Edna. We don’t want to take any chances.” Liv shepherded the sisters toward the door while Seamus and Chaz pulled Gus to his feet.
They never made it.
Halfway across the room, Liv pulled up short. It was like Manny had spontaneously generated. Now there were two of them. Two more. Manny was still on the floor. But the two new guys were standing in the doorway and holding guns a lot deadlier than Manny’s pistol.