The Case of the Itinerant Ibizan Page 7

  “Changing time zones always makes me hungry,” I said, shrugging.

  “What’s your secret for staying so thin?” she said, laughing.

  “I worry a lot,” I said, grinning. “And what a nice thing to say.”

  “Well, I am working for tips,” the waitress said, then turned to Sammy. “What can I get you?”

  Sammy ordered half of what I did, and a few minutes later the waitress returned with our order. Seconds later, we were stuffing our faces.

  “You didn’t tell your cousin you were coming, did you?” I said through a mouthful of fries.

  “No, I thought I’d surprise him,” Sammy said. “And I have no idea how I’m going to break the news that his dad is dead.”

  “I thought we’d take him out for an early dinner after the game. We’ll find a nice quiet place where the two of you can talk,” I said, then I sat forward in my seat. “Strike? Are you kidding me, ump? That was half a foot off the plate.”

  Several people sitting nearby laughed at my sudden outburst. A few others moved a couple of rows back to put a bit of space between us. I continued to harangue the umpire behind the plate, and when I made the comment that he might need a seeing eye dog to help him out, he flinched, and briefly glanced over his shoulder.

  “Man, you really get into this, don’t you?” Sammy said.

  “Yeah, it’s why I had to stop going to games. There’s just something about being in this environment that gets my competitive juices going. This is my first game since the incident in Toronto three years ago.”

  “Incident?” Sammy said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, Josie and I went to a Blue Jays game, and we sort of got into it with a Red Sox fan.”

  Sammy sat quietly and waited for me to continue.

  “The guy was mouthing off the whole game, and I eventually got tired of listening to him. Then he threw his beer in my face.”

  “Why did he do that?”

  “Retaliation, primarily.”

  “What did you do?” Sammy said, laughing.

  “Between innings, I just happened to be walking behind his seat and accidentally dropped my ice cream cone down the inside of his shirt.”

  “Were you drunk?”

  “No, just full. And it wasn’t one of my favorite flavors,” I said, shrugging. “So, no great loss.”

  “What happened after he threw his beer at you?”

  “Josie decked him,” I said, laughing at the memory. “He went over the row in front of him and landed, face-down, in a plate of nachos. They caught it on the Jumbo-Tron, and Josie got a standing ovation. But then security asked us to leave and not come back.” I glanced back at the action. “What? You have got to be kidding me. On what planet is that a strike?”

  At the end of the half-inning, I’d just started working on my second beer when I noticed the umpire strolling toward me. I glanced at him over the top of my cup and smiled at him.

  “What are you doing, lady?” the umpire said, softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you busting my chops?”

  “I’m merely commenting on the action,” I said, turning defensive. “Doesn’t dealing with people like me come with the job?”

  “Lady, it’s in the nineties, I’ve got a wicked case of acid reflux, and the pollen count is off the charts. You ever try sneezing while you’re wearing a catcher’s mask over your face?”

  “No.”

  “Well, take it from me, I don’t recommend it,” he said, blowing his nose.

  “Did you take a Zyrtec today?” I said.

  “No, I left them in the hotel,” he said, wiping his eyes.

  I fumbled through my purse and slid two tablets through the protective netting. He stared at me, then popped both tablets and washed them down with a bottle of water.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Now do me a favor and dial it down a notch,” he said, strolling back toward home plate.

  “He seems nice. Allergies and acid reflux. Poor guy,” I said, focusing on my ear of corn. “This is delicious. Oh, look. Your cousin is leading off the inning.”

  “What’s it like living with your brain?” Sammy said, shaking his head at me.

  “Probably a lot like sneezing while wearing a mask,” I said. “C’mon Tony! Get a hit.”

  Sammy’s cousin looked around confused and saw me waving my arm at him. Then his frown turned into a big grin when he recognized the young man sitting next to me. He walked over to us.

  “Sammy. What the heck are you doing here?”

  “I just came to watch you go hitless, what else?” Sammy said, laughing.

  “Well, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed,” Tony said, only half in jest. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good. Really good,” Sammy said. “Hey, we want to take you to dinner after the game. By the way, this is Suzy. She’s my boss.”

  “Dinner sounds great. Nice to meet you, Suzy.”

  “You too, Tony. I was watching you earlier, and it looks like you might be overstriding a bit.”

  “Does it now?” he said, grinning at Sammy.

  “Yeah. I think you are. And we both know what that means,” I said, nodding.

  “We do, huh?”

  “Yes. Your weight’s getting too far forward and that means your hands are late.”

  He flinched, and the smile on his face disappeared.

  “Thanks for the tip,” he said, gripping his bat tight. “I’ll just add that one to the hundred other swing thoughts I’m trying to remember.”

  “I’m not trying to upset you,” I said. “It’s only a suggestion. Just forget about everything else except making a shorter stride.”

  “You work for her?” Tony said to Sammy.

  “Yeah.”

  “Doing what? Handing out free advice pamphlets to complete strangers?”

  “Funny,” I said. “But I would have thought a guy batting ninth and struggling to hit two hundred would be looking for help anywhere he could get it.”

  “Look, I hate to be rude, but I need to get to the plate,” Tony said. “I guess I’ll see you guys later. Just meet me outside the clubhouse.”

  “Will do,” Sammy said.

  “Suzy, it was a pleasure meeting you,” Tony said, shaking his head at me.

  “Yeah, me too,” I said. “Remember, short stride.”

  “Tenacious, isn’t she?” Tony said to Sammy.

  “You have no idea.”

  “Oh, Tony,” I said.

  He stopped and turned around to look at me.

  “The pitcher has started off six of the first eight hitters with a changeup. If I were you, that’s what I’d be looking for.”

  “Got it,” he said, bewildered. “Short stride. Look for a changeup. Anything else?”

  “Maybe you should try to unclutter your head,” I said, shrugging.

  “Well, that should be easy enough. Now that you’re in there, I doubt if there’s room for anything else,” he said, heading for the plate.

  I took a sip of beer and settled back in my seat. Tony hit the first pitch off the fence in left-center and trotted into second with a stand-up double. He grinned, pointed at us, and gave me a small bow.

  “Unbelievable,” Sammy said, laughing as he clapped along with the crowd.

  “He just needed to get out of his head,” I said.

  “Well, if anybody would know about that…”

  “Funny,” I said, then hollered. “Strike? You must be joking. What’s the matter, ump? Is all the pollen getting in your eyes?”

  Chapter 13

  Tony suggested an Italian restaurant known for its food and quiet ambiance, and I sat at the bar talking and flirting with the bartender while he and Sammy chatted in the dining room.

  “Let me get this straight,” the bartender said. “You run a hotel for dogs and a restaurant?”

  “Well, the hotel is only part of the dog business. My partner is a vet,
so we offer all those services. And we also have a big rescue program.”

  “That’s kind of a weird combination wouldn’t you say?” the bartender said, topping off my glass of club soda.

  “Not if you love dogs and food,” I said, shrugging.

  “Yeah, I guess. And you’re about to open more in the Cayman Islands?”

  “Yes, we’ll be spending the winters down there,” I said. “We’re all very excited about it.”

  “And here you are in Normal,” he said, laughing.

  “Just passing through. But I like it here,” I said.

  “Yeah, it’s nice. But I grew up here, and I’m ready for a change. I’d kill for a chance to work in the Caymans.”

  “Oh, let’s hope not.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said, catching a glimpse of Sammy out of the corner of my eye. “Here comes my dinner date.”

  “Am I interrupting anything interesting?” Sammy said, grinning.

  “None of your business. Are you guys done?” I said.

  “Pretty much. I thought I’d give him a few minutes alone before we went back in.”

  “Of course,” I said, nodding. “How did he take the news?”

  “It was strange,” Sammy said. “I think it hit him pretty hard, but he was…distant. It was like he had already lost his father several years ago. And hearing he was dead seemed to be more about closure than grief.”

  “People deal with tragedy in a lot of different ways,” I said.

  “Yeah, I guess. But when my old man died, I was an emotional wreck for a long time. Tony just seems…resigned.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Go easy on him with the questions, okay?”

  I was hurt that he even had to ask, but I nodded and patted his hand.

  “I’ll do my best,” I said, climbing down off the barstool. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

  “After what you ate at the ballpark. You’re still hungry?” Sammy said.

  “That’s a trick question, right?” I said, leading the way into the dining room.

  I sat down across from Tony who was sitting with his elbows on the table and staring off into the distance. But when he saw me, he smiled and sat back in his chair.

  “Thanks for the tip today,” he said, taking a sip of iced tea. “I can’t remember the last time I had three hits in a game.”

  “It was just a lucky guess on my part,” I said, smiling. “How are you doing?”

  “I think I’m okay,” he said, nodding. “He’s pretty much been dead to me for years, but it’s still a shock to the system. Sammy said he was murdered.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “I wonder why,” Tony said, staring down at the menu in front of him. “He didn’t have anything, and he couldn’t have been a threat to anybody. Like my mom used to say, he was useless but harmless.”

  “How long has it been since you saw him?” I said.

  “Three years. And the time before that was just after Sammy left. That was five years ago, right, Sammy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Twice in five years,” Tony said. “My mother threw him out, and he just disappeared.”

  “Does you mom still live around here?” I said, treading carefully with my questions.

  “No, she died a couple of years ago. Heart attack,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Just like that. She was gone.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, as always struggling with what to say during times like this. “Did your father know that she had died?”

  “This is going to sound really strange, but I don’t have a clue if he knew or not.”

  “Well, at least he was keeping track of what you were doing,” I said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He was wearing a CornBelters hat,” I said.

  “He was always wearing it,” Tony said. “He was a big fan.”

  “But the one we found was almost new,” I said. “Dirty, but pretty new.”

  “Really?” Tony said.

  “I guess he could have ordered it online,” I said.

  “No way,” Sammy said, shaking his head.

  “Definitely not,” Tony said. “He wouldn’t go near a computer. He was convinced that they were designed for mind control. And computers were the way that the aliens were going to take over.”

  “I’ve had the same thoughts from time to time,” I said, laughing.

  “Yeah, but my dad believed it,” Tony said.

  I glanced back and forth at them. Tony shrugged. Sammy confirmed it with a nod of his head.

  “My dad, to be kind, had some bad wiring and more than a few loose screws.”

  “Do you have any idea about what he was doing in Clay Bay?” I said.

  “Not a clue. We did visit one time when I was a kid,” Tony said, looking over at Sammy. “That was a fun summer, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, we had a blast,” Sammy said. “We were what, seven, maybe eight years old?”

  “That sounds about right. After that summer, my dad was always talking about moving there at some point in the future.”

  “Interesting,” I said, leaning forward.

  “Not really,” Tony said. “He also talked about moving to Mars.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, reaching for a piece of Italian bread. I broke off a corner and dipped it in olive oil.

  “What’s your sister up to these days?” Sammy said, also grabbing a piece of bread.

  “I have no idea,” Tony said. “After mom died, she and I had a major falling out and went our separate ways. Last I heard, she was living somewhere in New York. Some place called Deferiet. I think that’s it.”

  I sat back in my chair and glanced over at Sammy. He seemed as surprised as I was.

  “Deferiet? That’s not far from Clay Bay,” Sammy said.

  “Really?” Tony said. “I did not know that. Huh, how about that?”

  “What does your sister do?”

  “Drugs,” Tony said, softly. “She does drugs.”

  “What kind of drugs?” I said.

  “Any kind she can get her hands on,” Tony said. “When it comes to dope, my sister doesn’t discriminate. But the last time I saw her, she seemed to have a big crush on crystal meth.”

  “I can’t believe she’s living in Deferiet,” Sammy said.

  “What’s the town like?”

  “Well, there used to a big paper mill there. But after it closed, I think the place really went downhill. I haven’t driven through there in a long time, but I can’t imagine there are more than a few hundred people living there now. Right, Suzy?”

  “That sounds about right,” I said, trying to organize several thoughts that were racing through my head. “Is there any way your sister would have heard the news about your father?”

  “Did it make the local papers?” Tony said.

  “I don’t think it did yet,” I said.

  “Then I don’t see how she would know.”

  “Somebody should probably tell her, don’t you think?” I said, catching Tony’s eyes and holding them with mine.

  “Knock yourself out,” he said, shrugging. Then he focused on his menu. “I think I’m gonna go with the lasagna.”

  Chapter 14

  Josie was waiting for us at the airstrip just outside of town when we landed. She was leaning against the side of the car and looking way too smug. She waved when the Cessna taxied to a stop, and Sammy and I headed down the small set of stairs and strolled toward her.

  “Nice hat,” she said, taking both our bags and tossing them in the trunk. “So, do tell. How was your flight?”

  “Shut it,” I said, climbing into the passenger seat. “I owe you one. A big one.”

  “Yes, you do,” she said, still laughing. “But you’re gonna have to dig deep to beat this one.”

  “How are the dogs?” I said.

  “They’re all good. Even the Beezer is starting to get comfortable.”

  “Good. Did you talk with Summ
erman yet?”

  “No. New subject, please,” she said, heading for the main road that would take us into town. “Oh, Freddie called this morning. He wants you to stop by as soon as you can.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding. Then I turned to Sammy in the backseat. “He must have finished with the body. Maybe he found something that might help us figure out who killed your uncle.”

  “I need to talk to him about getting access to the body,” Sammy said. “And then have him cremated and sent to Tony. Since it was one of his uncle’s favorite places, Tony said he wants to spread him all over the ballpark.”

  “Yuk,” I said.

  “Maybe they could do it as part of a promotion,” Josie said.

  “Scattered Ashes Night?” I said, frowning.

  “Exactly.”

  “Yuk.”

  “You can put someone’s ashes in the mail, right?”

  “I don’t see why not,” I said, shrugging.

  “Or I suppose you could fly back and deliver them personally,” Josie deadpanned. “Ow. That hurt,” she said, rubbing her shoulder.

  “Good. It’s supposed to hurt. Sammy, I thought that we might take a drive to Deferiet tomorrow.”

  “The old paper mill town?” Josie said. “What on earth for?”

  “My cousin apparently lives there,” Sammy said. “I don’t think she knows that her dad died. And her brother doesn’t want anything to do with her. But she needs to know.”

  Josie pulled into the driveway, and we headed directly to the Inn. Sammy got reunited with Jill while I said hello to Chloe and the rest of the dogs. Then I grabbed my bag from Josie’s car and headed up to the house. I tossed the bag on my bed, then called Chief Abrams who agreed to meet me at Freddie’s office. With Chloe supervising from the passenger seat, we made the short drive, and I parked in front. Chloe led the way inside, and we found Chief Abrams already there talking with Freddie.

  “Hey, welcome home,” Freddie said.

  “Good trip?” Chief Abrams said.

  “Not counting the flights, yeah, it wasn’t bad,” I said, sitting down. “What did you find out, Freddie?”

  “At first, nothing,” he said, shrugging. “There were no wounds or bruises. Nothing at all. It was almost like the guy died of natural causes.”