The Manatee Did It Read online

  Craig’s mother, Jaqueline, raised him alone, and he still knows nothing about his father. Jaqueline died when our children were little, and I never got to know her. She liked to keep to herself and wasn’t close to her son, so I didn’t push. Besides, I was busy with the twins before I got used to having a husband, much less a mother-in-law across the country.

  Carefully picking my way up the wide, front steps to avoid the rotten sections, my heaviness at living in this place, and this house, returns. This hot, strange place. This broken-down, moldy, dark house. The excitement and shock of Craig inheriting his Aunt Cora’s home right as we were contemplating retirement completely evaporated after only one month of living here.

  “It was like it was meant to be. Should’ve seen all the red flags, but nope. Not us!” I mutter to the temperamental, heavy front door. I fit the old key in the keyhole and push it, just right, with my shoulder. “Sight unseen. Have to sign the papers within the week. No time to see what we’re getting. It’s an adventure!”

  My nose automatically wrinkles crossing the threshold. Mold. Mildew. Dust. Now I can talk to myself more loudly as I do day after day here. Sometimes I do it to ward off the loneliness, sometimes to cover the creepy noises of an old house. “Not enough vanilla candles in the world to cover that.” I drop my purse onto one of the tables lining the walls of the entrance. “Yep. So, here it is. Our retirement adventure, except like most of our life together, I’m doing it all alone.”

  The darkness of the porch allows my eyes to quickly adjust to the dimness of the entryway and downstairs rooms. I literally shake my head to drown out the pity party gathering there, and I stop in the wide entrance to the living room. I lift my shoulders, straighten my back, and place my fists on my hips, saying even louder, “Today I’m tearing down those curtains. I’m not waiting on an appraiser or Craig’s approval. I’m the one that has to live in this dungeon all day, every day!”

  “Jewel? Who are you talking to?”

  “Oh! Craig!” I bend over with my hands clasped to my chest. “You scared me to death! What are you doing here?” My hands don’t leave my pounding heart, though I do try to stand up straight.

  “Sorry,” he says as he takes a step toward me. “Hitch in permitting meant no work for a couple days, so I thought I’d come back here. I sent you a text this morning. Didn’t you see my car?”

  “I silenced my phone for lunch, and I started parking out by the front sidewalk. No reason I can see for pulling all the way around the house. It’s not like having a car in front of it can hurt this place’s curb appeal,” I say with a certain nasty sarcasm that seems to creep into my voice these days. I grimace at him, but he just laughs.

  “No, I guess you’re right.” Craig’s hair has only started turning gray, and he’s as trim as he’s always been. Being on the jobsite in Florida has already given him a tan. People say we look good together, but I think this move has given me more wrinkles and a bad attitude while his new tan makes him look younger. Of course he’s not stuck in this place day after day. And, no, I’m not bitter—much. I work to turn my grimace into a smile, lower the shoulders that keep creeping up around my ears, and walk across the uneven, water-damaged floor to welcome my husband home with a quick kiss.

  As I step away from him, I look at the windows and say, “The curtains.”

  He follows my look. “The curtains?”

  “That’s who I was talking to. They’ve got to go.” I lay a hand on his shoulder and sigh. “I went to lunch with those ladies and—oh!” I pull away from him and start pacing the entryway.

  This isn’t easy even though the entryway is massive. The entire downstairs entertaining area is crowded with Aunt Cora’s little tables, which are further loaded with knickknacks. There are side tables, end tables, coffee tables, phone tables. There are porcelain dolls, bronzed baby shoes, and in one instance, a toy from a Happy Meal. Some of this junk is possibly quality antique. Other pieces are definitely not, I would think, but who knows.

  “You are not going to believe what happened,” I say as I weave around a table with an inlaid checkerboard pattern. The Precious Moments figurine atop it wobbles threateningly. “After lunch we came out, you know there on the docks beside Colby’s? Well, I thought I saw a manatee.”

  “Oh, cool,” he says as he unbuttons the sleeves of his shirt.

  I stop him and explain. “No, not cool. It wasn’t a manatee.” I swallow. “It was a body. A man. He was, he was dead.”

  Craig stops with one sleeve unbuttoned. His mouth falls open. “What! You found a body? Who was it? What happened?”

  I walk past him down the hall to the kitchen. “I don’t know. We left. All the police and firemen were there.” I pull open the refrigerator and take out a bottle of water. “It was crazy. Annie, she’s one of the ladies from lunch, thinks someone probably had a heart attack and fell off their boat.”

  When Craig joins me in the kitchen, I hold out the water to him. He takes the bottle, then leans against the center bar in the big kitchen. “That’s incredible. Sorry you had to go through that. How crazy.”

  “Yes, crazy and definitely creepy, but other than that, lunch was fun. I’m glad you encouraged me to go. This place,” I rake my eyes around the dark and cluttered house, “gets overwhelming after a while.”

  The kitchen was one of the first rooms I’d attacked. I threw away the clutter (who needs three ancient can openers?) and old food and cleaned, so it, along with our bedroom and bathroom upstairs, was actually livable. But only just. Worn-out linoleum floors, dated countertops, and stained and cracked porcelain have to be overlooked in the kitchen and bathroom, but the rooms are clean. As clean as an ancient, neglected house can possibly be.

  Pounding on the front door makes us both jump. Craig winces as he says, “Oh, yeah, the doorbell doesn’t work, does it?”

  Craig wrenches open the front door as I join him there. “Hello,” he says to the two police officers standing on our porch.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Mantelle?” one of the officers asks.

  “Yes?”

  “Hello. I’m Officer Greyson, and this is my partner, Officer Bryant. I don’t think your doorbell works,” the officer says. I can’t help but notice that both he and his younger partner are trying to look beyond us to the inside of the house. “Can we come in? We need to ask you some questions, Mrs. Mantelle.”

  “Me?” I take a step back, then nod. “Oh, yes. The marina. The body.” I back up, waving a hand toward the living room. “Yes, come in.”

  The officer’s eyes stop their roving and laser in on me, but he catches himself and follows my invitation into the large, dark-paneled room. Craig pushes the front door shut, then joins us.

  “Mrs. Mantelle, did you say ‘the body’?” Officer Greyson asks me.

  “Yes, in the water. I was with some ladies, and we saw it. Then others got there and pulled it out. We didn’t stay any longer. One of the ladies I was with is a nurse, and she said we didn’t want to see a drowning victim.”

  The younger officer stands a step behind his partner. He takes out a notepad and pen for his first addition to the conversation. “Ma’am, can you give me the names of the ladies you were with?”

  “Of course. Cherry and Annie, but we just moved here so I don’t know their last names.”

  The older officer closes his eyes for a moment, then, opening them, he stretches his neck like he has a headache. With his head bent to the side he asks, “You just moved here, yet this is called the Mantelle House and you are the Mantelles.”

  Craig nods as he answers. “Yes, I inherited the house from my aunt. She had been sick for a long time. In a nursing facility for quite a while. We were estranged, I guess you could say. It was rather a surprise. The inheritance, that is.”

  The two uniformed men look around at the place, and I look away. No need to see their pity. “Would you gentlemen like to sit down?” I perch on one of the several side chairs in the room. There are also several couches, one of which
is oozing its stuffing. And don’t forget the tables. When the officers don’t sit down, Craig doesn’t either.

  Officer Greyson continues. “Mrs. Mantelle, you were at the marina today. Said you were there for lunch? What time was that?”

  “Well, I got there a little early, so I was wandering around looking at the water. I didn’t know the other women, so I didn’t want to get to the table early. The sun got hot on the docks. I’m not used to this kind of weather in March. It’s still winter where we came from. Anyway, I went over to a bench next to the restaurant in the shade and sat down. I finally went inside at ten minutes till noon.”

  Both officers seem very focused when Officer Greyson asks, “Did you talk to anyone?”

  I think, then shake my head. “No, I was alone on the bench.”

  “How about before you sat down on the bench?”

  “Um, no. I’d parked on the other side and walked around along the dock. But there’s no boats on that side, I guess due to the hurricane damage, so I went around to see the boats. And, well, to waste time like I said.” I smile up at the officers, but they don’t smile back. I look at Craig and shrug. He steps over to put a hand on my shoulder and gives me a small squeeze.

  “Is this what you were wearing?” the younger officer asks, pointing at me with his pen.

  I look down at my red cotton sweater, white jeans, and leather sandals. “Yes, why?”

  “And you talked to no one?” the younger officer asks again.

  “Not that I remember. I was nervous about meeting all these strangers for lunch. I wandered around, and I did ask this man there about the sunset cruises. He was beside the sign and for some reason looked like he might know. Are you talking about him?”

  I chew on my bottom lip and squint, trying to remember the man. He had on a hat, and when he took it off to wipe his brow, he was bald. Like the man in the water. And, wait, he had on khaki pants. Like the man in the water. My head jerks up as my heart races. “But, he had on a Hawaiian shirt. It was one of those bright ones, with flowers and palm leaves! It couldn’t have been him. Right?” I slowly rise and stare at the officers.

  The officers look at each other and frown. The older one says, “Ma’am, you’re going to need to remember everything he said and that you said. Maybe we should sit down.” He sighs and rubs his mouth, which sets in a line. “This might take a while.”

  Chapter 4

  Before we can sit down, the younger officer’s phone chimes, the same setting I use for an alarm. He apparently has it set for someone special as he doesn’t even look at it before he starts walking toward the front door, saying, “I’ll take this outside.”

  The phone continues to chime as Officer Bryant faces down our front door. We think the warming weather has made the wood swell so that it’s almost impossible to jerk open.

  I feel weird giving an officer of the law advice, but he looks so helpless standing there with xylophone chimes continuing to play out of his phone. “Um, you—you pull up and then out,” I say.

  The officer whips around. It looks like he has to work to soften the frustration from his features. “I’ve got it, ma’am.” He sighs and unlocks his phone, puts it to his ear. “Hold on a second, Mother.”

  Craig and I share a look. Mother?

  Finally, Officer Bryant muscles the door open with a triumphant “Ha!” He pulls it shut, but it won’t close all the way without some special tugging, so we won’t have to get up to let him in.

  I really am starting to hate that door.

  Officer Greyson actually rolls his eyes, which causes Craig and me to look at each other again as we all take a seat. The officer is on the burgundy velvet couch, or settee, as some people call it. I return to my chair, and Craig pulls another chair close to mine. We haven’t arranged any furniture yet as we don’t know what we’re keeping. Again, appraisal first? Cleaning first? It’s anyone’s call.

  Officer Greyson looks toward the front door where his partner can be heard talking. His mouth presses into disapproval. I probably shouldn’t ask, but… “Does his mother call him often at work?”

  The officer looks at me, rolls his eyes again, and moves on. “Now, Mrs. Mantelle, this man you talked to, can you be more specific as to what was said?”

  “Of course. I asked him if he knew anything about the different river cruises that were advertised on the placard there on the dock. He said not really, but he’d seen them come and go full of people who looked happy. I asked where they left from, and he pointed to the ramp there at the end. Then he pointed to where two of the boats would regularly be docked, but they were out on tours over on that island. Can’t remember the name, but it’s a park?”

  Craig and the officer say at the same time, “Cumberland.”

  “Right, with the wild horses. Anyway, then he said for me to have a good day and walked away.”

  “Which direction?”

  “Toward the restaurant. But then I turned the other way and walked along the railing for a bit before turning around and going to sit on the bench like I told you.” We all turn to the front door as it pushes open. I can’t help but smile at the redness of the young officer’s face. Imagine his mother calling him at work. I remind myself to not do that to my kids anymore—unless it’s something important, of course.

  Craig and I both jump when Officer Greyson demands of the young man, “Okay, what is it now? Was it her? It was, wasn’t it?”

  With a sigh, the officer sits down beside his partner. He finally looks at him and nods.

  “I knew it! Great.” Officer Greyson frowns and shakes his head, then points to Craig and me. “Go ahead. Tell ‘em.”

  My stomach clinches. I press my folded arms close to my body to try and hide a shiver. I usually have trouble keeping warm, but I especially have trouble with it when I’m scared. And they’ve scared me with all this.

  Officer Bryant takes a deep breath and coughs. “Well, ma’am, my mother. Um, yeah, well, Annie is my mother. Annie Bryant.”

  “My Annie? I mean, the Annie from lunch?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And so she called me to say that you were with her during the time that—well, during the time we’re looking at.”

  Craig lets out his breath with a little laugh. “Oh, okay. That’s good. Right?”

  “Wait, how did she even know you were over here?” I ask.

  Annie’s son lowers his head. Officer Greyson rolls his eyes again and explains. “Officer Bryant’s mother has to know everything that happens in Sophia, and even with the resorts and all the growth, this is really just a very small town. Everyone knows we’re here. When you said you were with someone named Annie today, we knew with our luck that it was her.” He growls under his breath. “This is less like a partnership than a trio with his mother as our third wheel.” He stands up and looks around. “Always wanted to see what this place looked like on the inside.” He reaches out a hand to shake Craig’s hand, then mine. “Welcome to Sophia Beach. Mrs. Mantelle, if you think of anything else, give us a call. Bryant, give her one of your cards. We know Annie would never let her call me.”

  His face returning to a more normal color, the young officer hands me a card. “I’m Aiden Bryant. My mom said you were a nice lady, and she’ll be talking to you soon.”

  From near the front door Officer Greyson scoffs. “Soon? Try she’s probably on her way here now. Nice to meet you folks.”

  Aiden bobs his reddening face and hurries after his partner.

  Craig closes the door behind the officers and lets out a breath. I rush to him and hug him tight. “I’m so glad you were here today. What if you hadn’t come home early? They were nice, but, well, I’m just glad you were here.”

  He grasps my upper arms and holds me out so he can see my face. “You do have to remember, like he said, this is a very small town. We’ve not lived in many small towns.” He hugs me again and mumbles into my hair. “I’d forgotten exactly how small this place is.”

  Chapter 5

  Before th
e hug ends there’s another knock on the door. I smile at him and pull away. “Think that’s Annie?”

  He shrugs, and I walk to the door. I tug it open, and there she stands. Well, there she stood for about half a second, before she rushed in.

  “Can you believe this?” she exclaims as she passes me. “Oh, you must be Jewel’s husband. I’m Annie Bryant.” Then she turns to me. “I thought you said he was out of town?”

  “My work plans changed. Craig Mantelle,” Craig says, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you, but I do have some work to do. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

  Annie shakes his hand, saying, “A glass of ice water would be wonderful. Aren’t you glad you came home on such an exciting day?”

  My husband laughs, but raises his eyebrows at me as he turns for the kitchen. “Water for you, too, Jewel?”

  “Sure, thanks. Annie, we got to meet your son. He’s very nice. You must be so proud of him.”

  “Of course. He’s the youngest of my boys. Should we sit in here?”

  “Okay. As you can see, you have your choice of places to sit.”

  “My, my. Always wanted to see the inside of this place,” she says, echoing Officer Greyson. “Kind of musty, ain’t it? Cora was a strange duck indeed. You didn’t know her, did you? Well, I hope this old furniture will hold my big behind!” she says with a laugh as she settles into the middle of the same small couch her son and his partner sat on.

  I sit back down where I was as Craig brings us each a glass of water. “Here you go. Now I need to make some phone calls, so I’m going to barricade myself in my office for a bit. You ladies enjoy. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bryant.”

  “Oh, no, I’m Annie,” she says. “Mrs. Bryant is my mother-in-law, and she doesn’t share her name or, truth be told, anything else!”