Well Read, Then Dead(89)
I couldn’t believe I had the brass to stick my foot between the door and the threshold.
Selkirk looked down, and I could see him contemplating whether to crush my foot or answer my question. He released the pressure on the door.
“I’m going to tell you what I told them sheriff’s boys. Then you go away and don’t bother me or my crew. Deal?”
I nodded.
“Worth the talk just to get rid of you.”
My head reared up like a startled hawk, which was enough to make him tell me to calm down.
“Thanks to the young guys who run their mouths, you already know we’re wreckers. I had no interest in any land the old ladies owned or didn’t own. The kids were afraid that the old ladies could actually stop our project so they came running to me. I wanted to placate them all until we got our State permits and then it’s off to work we go.”
I half expected him to sing “heigh-ho, heigh-ho.” Instead he narrowed his eyes, peering to see if we were buying his story. I held my face in neutral and didn’t dare look at Bridgy.
“Okay, let’s end your little Encyclopedia Brown routine right now. There’s been too many stories floating around the wrecker circuit about the discovery of treasure from the 1715 flotilla over on the Atlantic coast. You know, a trinket here, a plate there. Few thousand bucks at most. The young ones were becoming anxious, talking about moving over to the east coast.
“Like I told those two from the sheriff’s department, the night the lady was done in, me and the boys sailed down to the Dry Tortugas. We dropped anchor and I regaled them with beer, grilled fresh fish and stories about the Atocha and its multimillion-dollar treasure. Needed to let them know there was plenty of good wrecking in the Gulf. I couldn’t afford to lose a crew I worked so hard to recruit and train.
“Now go away.” He started to push the door closed. I hastily removed my foot.
Back in the car, I checked my phone. Cady hadn’t returned Bridgy’s call. I tried again.
When Cady didn’t answer his phone, I left a message asking him to meet us in Times Square for ice cream in an hour.
Bridgy liked the idea. “Any opportunity for an ice cream break. Why an hour?”
“I thought we’d want to talk between the two of us. I mean, if what Bucket Hat says is true—remind me to ask Ryan if that is what he told them—we can eliminate him as a suspect. Those young wreckers might behave like something out of The Goonies, but they’ll hold up as an alibi.
“And I want to do a little shopping on Old San Carlos. Get some Fort Myers Beach flip-flops, shirts, visors for Miguel’s family. You know, fun gear. If they hadn’t come and stayed, we’d be doing his caretaking, which would make running the café that much harder.”
We finished our shopping and were walking to Times Square when I realized that Cady never called back. Bridgy doesn’t pay attention to people’s particular habits and was inclined to think he’d gotten her message and would show up.
“That’s so not Cady. He answers every call within minutes and, annoying though it may be, he expects the people he calls to do the same.”
I picked up my phone and hit speed dial eight. Cady answered on the second ring.
“Where have you been? I’ve been calling.”
Bridgy’s hands were flapping up and down in our “tone it down” signal.
I softened my scolding. “I was beginning to worry. Come on over to Times Square, I’ll buy you an ice cream.” I listened for a moment. “See you then.”