Evil's Root

Chapter 20

Carol's Cove proved to be an absolute bust. Uplander spent more time jawing with cronies than he did investigating. It wasn't until Officer Rich tapped him on the back and pointed to his watch that Uplander resumed his official air, and in two minutes had all the information they collected in the forty minutes they'd been there.

"Fred doesn't think a boat of that description has been through here," Uplander said officiously.

"So it seems. Where next?"

"Archer's Ports of Call. It's a little more for the thirty somethings, wouldn't you say, Rich?" Rich, who was thirty something, just shrugged dispassionately and looked away from his boss. "Yes, we get a lot of yuppie types at this one. Most of our disturbance calls are from here. Wouldn't you say, Rich?"

"Most, I expect." Sullen. Fed up.

"Doesn't sound like a place these people might choose, Detective." Benlow tried.

"Maybe, but no stone unturned and all that, uh?"

"Right."

Another three quarters of a wasted hour and they were back in the car. Hot, sticky - there was no air conditioning - and getting tired and hungry.

"Is there some place we can make a pit stop; maybe grab a bite and a drink? I haven't eaten since about six this morning."

Uplander frowned at his watch and stared out the windshield as if the question had upset his entire itinerary and would need a full officer meeting to respond.

"There's Ruthie's just down on the coast a bit, it's on the way to Safe Harbour, the last public marina we can check." Officer Rich stated with some relief.

"Sounds fine to me if you recommend it. Uhm, what did you mean by, public marinas? Are there many private ones as well? Benlow worried.

"There are several," Uplander cut in, with a snap that showed he was clearly annoyed at his driver. "Most only hold five or six boats and they are all pretty well annual renters."

"Do they sublet?"

Uplander turned in his seat and stared at Benlow. "Sublet?"

"Yeah, the ones on the mainland are never empty. Somebody goes out, somebody else takes over 'till they 're back."

There was a long pause with the two detectives facing one another then Rich coughed and spoke up again.

"You might get a bit of that, Detective Benlow, but it's usually within families or very close friends. The private marina owners don't like big turnovers. Too much paperwork and stuff."

"Right. Thanks, Rich."

Upland turned back to the front, his eyes raking the side of the driver's face and his own turning crimson. Benlow leaned back and suppressed a smile, apparently young Rich knew more about the island than Detective Morris Uplander. Ruthie's turned out to be a thatched roof held up by thick, artificial bamboo poles over a huge slate patio, cooled by big slow turning ceiling fans, and sat above the beach road, overlooking the ocean.

Ruthie, in a green a red flowered dress, was as big as the restaurant and her grin spread literally from ear to ear as she waddled forward to greet the trio.

"Welcome gents. Hey, Richie, good to see you again. Long time. I was beginning to think you found another spot for clams." She flopped a leg of arm over his shoulder and pulled him into her mammoth girth. Uplander's disposition grew worse.

"Right this way. Give you a table with a view of the beach. Some nice young girls out there today, Richie."

"Uh, Ruthie, this is my boss, and Detective Benlow from the mainland." "Oh! Okay, Richie. Sorry. I never saw this man before in my life, sir." She chuckled, and the tectonic plates below the ocean shifted. "Pleased to meet you Benny, find something you like on this," she dropped a massive, rattan bound menu on the table in front of Benlow, "meantime I'll bring you all a Ruthie cooler on the house."

Uplander raised a finger to her departing back, trying to say they were on duty but she just rumbled away singing something from the Don Ho songbook, drowning him out.

"Does she have good clams?" Benlow grinned.

"The best." Rich looked down at his menu, avoiding the glare from Uplander.

They ate in silence, happily, Benlow thought, because the food was delicious and then as the meal ended he probed for more information on possible places a single boat might tie up unnoticed if not at a regular marina.

Both men offered solid opinions and they concluded that if his suspects weren't at Safe Harbour, there was a good chance they weren't on Catalina. Ruthie was also questioned whether any new arrivals had been by for a meal, and she happily recounted a few anecdotes that had little to do with their original inquiry. She did add that there were a couple of reservations for that evening for names she wasn't familiar with, one being Stein.

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Madge Unser bashed her husband on the arm again when he mentioned taking a stroll down the trot. He never went anywhere, but since the arrival of their new neighbours, Buck found walking a nice break - an almost necessary break. He shrugged off his wife's nattering, and with his skinny hands in the pockets of his baggy shorts, he ambled slowly toward the Iron Tulip, eyes drifting eagerly to the back door for a possible glimpse of the impossible woman.

Barry snored loudly, face down on the lounge bench. His session with Heidi after they ate had wrung him out and as he faded into sleep he wondered with deep concern if he really did have the necessary stamina. Heidi stood beside him making sure he was out and then she slipped up to the bridge and closed the door.

After a few minutes she made contact with the mainland operator and was patched through to the bank with the joint account. Several short minutes later, Heidi had removed ninety percent of the money into trust deposits at a different financial house in her name. She signed off, rubbed her hands together, and strolled back past the sleeping Barry to the aft deck.

The old man tripped and nearly fell, jigging along like a puppet on a string until he got his hands free and grabbed a post for support. His quest for a glimpse had nearly killed him when the woman emerged topless from the cabin and stood on the deck, stretching up to the sun. The sound of his name being shrieked down the trot had him scurrying home, uncaring of his fate now that he had that image burned on his retinas forever.

She stretched out on the lounge and contemplated the cotton clouds, wondering how to deal with Barry. His arm had miraculously almost healed under her ministrations, and they had finally done away with the sling. She thought that opening the wound back at sea wouldn't take much if that were the route she chose, but it seemed kind of mean.

Barry was surprisingly fitter than she had expected, certainly more than the other four had been. The money was secured and he couldn't go anywhere on his own; he might just be worth having around for a while. His sudden stumbling onto the deck, and muttering about a stiff back, disturbed her musing.

"Did you rest well, Mr. Stein?"

"I haven't rested since I came aboard." He flopped on the lounge opposite and arched his back with a groan.

"Would you like a massage?"

Barry snorted, noticing for the first time that she was topless. "I think not, thanks. Even perpetual motion needs a break."

"That is a very funny line, Mr. Stein. You have a good sense of humour I think."

"It's stretching kinda thin, Heidi. About the money and our arrangement."

One long, shapely leg rose into the air, drawing his eyes and cutting off his sentence. He breathed deeply and tried to wet his lips as he watched her run through a series of bends and stretches without getting off the lounge. Focus, man. Focus. He cleared his throat and started again, but she rose in one fluid movement, leaned down and fastened her full lips over his, rammed a mint sweet tongue down his throat and then stood over him, smiling.

"I've made reservations at a great place for dinner. We will dine off the boat for a change. Wear something nice. Casual but nice."

She spun around, pausing long enough for him to appreciate her taut figure, then disappeared below. Barry sat dry-mouthed and bewildered. Shouldn't I be complaining to someone, he wondered, dragging himself from the lounge and down the narrow stairs after her. Where the hell am I going to find something casual but nice?