Chapter 40

The wind over the Caribbean was chasing its own tail southeast of Cuba, but Key West was getting a typical, late-day thunderstorm, albeit a windy one. It was almost eight and Julie and Joe were so hungry, they decided not to wait out the downpour. They jumped out of the VW and ran into the Rusty Pelican.

The restaurant was cozy, decorated in a nautical motif. Dimly lit ship’s lanterns reflected on polished wood, and matching hurricane candles sat on each table. They requested a booth and were seated right away. Julie picked up a napkin and used it to dab at her wet face and dripping hair.

“You look good wet,” said Joe.

Suddenly Julie’s face grew warm.

I’m blushing! What am I, a teenager?

Anxious to redirect his attention, she asked, “So how was the flight in this terrible weather?”

“Nice segue,” said Joe, laughing. “Truth? It was tough. The nearer we got to Key West, the wind and rain played havoc with the chopper. Will was as miserable as a cat in a tub...and he took off just about as fast.”

They were seated in the bar side of the restaurant, and the young bartender came over and took their food and drink order. Julie ordered a chardonnay, and Joe an iced tea. She noticed that there were a few men seated at the bar who were watching ESPN. Fortunately, the sound was turned down.

It didn’t take long for the young man to serve their drinks.

“I found out something important from David,” Julie said, taking a sip.

“What?”

“The night of the murder, Marc and David had two dinner guests, Rolly Archer, a friend of theirs, and Susan Dwyer, Marc’s agent. They left together at ten-thirty. In a weak moment this afternoon, David told me that Rolly came back later and they spent the whole night together. He said they found Marc’s body together.”

“Holy shit! He hasn’t told the police that?”

“No. I think he’s in love with Rolly.”

“That guy could have done it!” said Joe.

“That’s what I said. David refuses to consider the possibility. He said he ‘knows Rolly never left his side’.”

“He’s got to tell the cops, Julie.”

She nodded. “He’s going to tell Jake Goldman in the morning.”

“It’s going to make him look guilty as hell, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, sighing in resignation.

“Tell me about your trip to Castle Cay.”

“Well, I think there’s been some changes since you were there…”

Joe proceeded to tell her everything; everything except for Al Drum’s recounting of her honeymoon ordeal, which had pierced Joe’s heart and explained a lot. He hoped that Julie, herself, would decide to share that with him. In any case, this certainly wasn’t the time to bring it up.

“Anyhow, Merlin, the airstrip and the cement block buildings…there’s no doubt they were built by drug traffickers. And the caretaker, John Drum, was fired in 1994 by the Solomon family.”

“The Solomon family? That had to mean Avram,” said Julie. “Marc’s mother died on Castle Cay in 1993. According to her brother, none of the family went there after that. I know Marc never did…plus, it was in the trust, which was managed by Avram! Do you think he knew about the drugs?”

“Maybe. Maybe that ties into your suspicions about his business, too.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised! I think Avram is a pathological liar, Joe. Matt Castle thinks so, too, and he’s known him all his life. I’m also sure that Avram hated Marc. But he has an airtight alibi; he was definitely in Boston. And damn it, I just can’t see what he would gain from selling the island, since the proceeds don’t even go to him.”

“So the sale is done?” asked Joe.

“No. Pending, I think. I met with the agent at Island World Realty in Miami who’s handling the sale. His name is Frank Martino. He stands to make a serious commission. He’s the listing and selling agent,” she added.

“Miami isn’t far from here, Julie.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that, too,” she said. “Also, I suspect that Marc never signed the sales agreement. Martino thought I was a real estate agent and he made a point of telling me that Avram, as trustee, could sign the deal.”

“So you think that Marc didn’t want to sell?”

“That’s the weird part, Joe. From all accounts, he did want to sell.”

The two of them, stymied, suspended conversation for a while and dug into their broiled grouper.

Julie put down her fork and looked up.

“I was thinking, Joe…Jake Goldman is coming tomorrow morning to see David. I told him that you were working with me on this, and he asked to see the two of us, as well. Why don’t you stay at the house?” She hastened to add, “There’s an extra bedroom…”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Julie smiled along with him…for the first time.

They looked outside and decided to wait a little longer to see if the rain might let up. Over coffee, their conversation turned to other subjects…life in Orlando…the weather.

The bartender had raised the volume, and they turned toward the television. On screen, a weather channel reporter was talking about tropical storm Carlo and the deluge it was dumping in Haiti.

•

It was ten-thirty by the time they arrived at David’s house. Julie had left very few lights on and she surmised that David was still asleep because it was still dark inside. As she closed the front door behind them, she flipped on the gallery-light switch illuminating the paintings all around the walls.

“Wow!” said Joe, transfixed.

“I know. Aren’t they beautiful?”

“They’re the essence of Key West…the way it feels.”

Julie was surprised at Joe’s succinct appreciation of Marc’s art. There’s more to him than meets the eye.

“I’ll show you his studio in the morning, Joe. You really can’t appreciate it at night. You must be tired; I know I am.”

She turned right into the hallway, leading the way to the bedroom at the end, which she had made up for him earlier. But she didn’t walk into it. Instead, she stood awkwardly in the narrow hallway, sort of ushering him in. “The bathroom is over there,” she said, “and my room is over here.”

I can’t believe I said that!

Joe looked at her with his eyebrows raised and a slight smile, his eyes dropping to her mouth and then rising back up to her eyes. He squeezed past her.

“Well, then…goodnight,” he said, as he closed his door.

“Yes, goodnight.”

Julie bit her lip softly, unconsciously.

Definitely more to him…

* * * * *