Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 03 - Murder in the Mangroves by Marty Ambrose Page A
Authors: Marty Ambrose
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won’t bring my Gina back” She reached for
the plastic broom in a corner. “Tell Lily I’ll call her later.”
Watching her rhythmically sweep the floor, I marveled at
her strength. Then I let myself out the back door, only to find
Rivas leaning against a palm tree trunk, smoking the last of a
cigarette. He flicked the stub to the sandy ground and crushed
it under his heel.
“I wanted to talk to you, chica.”
I edged around him. “I’ve got to get back to the Observer.”
And away from this water gun-toting wild man.
He hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans. “I know I
must’ve seemed loco in there. But I’d just heard Gina was
dead-it hurts so bad” He took in a long, deep breath. “You
know, the kind of pain that hits right in the gut. I’m sorry if I
scared you.” The stricken expression on his face halted me.
“I … I guess I sort of understand. She was your sister, after all.” Still, I kept a healthy distance between us. “What did you
want to tell me?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said Brett Palmer’s family hated
Gina. They would’ve done anything to get rid of my sister.”
“Even kill her?”
“Si.” His mouth turned mutinous. “I overheard Brett’s parents
talking at the engagement party. They said the marriage would
never take place-they’d make sure of it-no matter what”
“They may not have wanted Gina as part of the family, but
that doesn’t mean they killed her. Sometimes people just say
things.” And think them. I refrained from telling him that I’d
frequently contemplated all sorts of ways to avoid every family
gathering my mother had planned over the years-including
the annual family reunion picnic in the Midwest. Every one
was the same: sour lemonade, dry ham, and overachieving siblings. Ugh.
Rivas mumbled something in Spanish under his breath.
“The Palmers were serious.”
“Well..”
“You’re a reporter. It’s your job to ask people questions.”
He weighed me with a critical squint. “You can find out if they
did something to harm my sister.”
“That’s not exactly what I do, you-“
“Gina’s dead!” He thumped his chest with his fists. “Her
soul won’t rest until I find out what happened to her.”
“You might want to talk to Detective Billie. He’s conducting the investigation.”
“Police. Bah.” He ground the cigarette butt farther into the
ground. “They do nothing to help the island workers”
I hesitated.
“Please. You must help us” His eyes had a tortured sadness
in the depths that tugged at my heart.
Mentally kicking myself, I reached into my cavernous canvas bag and pulled out my notepad. “Give me the address of
Brett’s parents”
“They live in muy elegance Sea Belle Isle Point-1565 Hibiscus Court. That’s where they had the engagement party.”
“Is there anyone else I could talk to about Gina?”
“Her partner, Isabel. They ran a decorating business together called Island Decor.”
“Oh, yeah, I know where that is-near the island center.”
Needless to say, I’d never set foot inside. One could only do so
much with an Airstream trailer like the one I lived in. The furniture was built into the unit, and I’d fixed it up with my version of shabby chic-heavy on the shabby, light on the chic.
“I’ll see what I can dig up, but I can’t make you any promises.”
“Gracias. I won’t forget this.” He gave a brief nod and went
back inside Mama Maria’s restaurant.
I flipped my notepad shut. Something told me I was getting
myself into a big, messy muddle. But what could I do? Aunt
Lily had begged me to find out what happened to Gina. Now
Rivas Fernandez was doing the same thing. And both of them
thought there was something suspicious about Gina’s demise.
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire-or at least there might be.
Certainly I was becoming more and more intrigued that
people thought Gina’s death seemed suspicious.
I drove toward the island
the plastic broom in a corner. “Tell Lily I’ll call her later.”
Watching her rhythmically sweep the floor, I marveled at
her strength. Then I let myself out the back door, only to find
Rivas leaning against a palm tree trunk, smoking the last of a
cigarette. He flicked the stub to the sandy ground and crushed
it under his heel.
“I wanted to talk to you, chica.”
I edged around him. “I’ve got to get back to the Observer.”
And away from this water gun-toting wild man.
He hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans. “I know I
must’ve seemed loco in there. But I’d just heard Gina was
dead-it hurts so bad” He took in a long, deep breath. “You
know, the kind of pain that hits right in the gut. I’m sorry if I
scared you.” The stricken expression on his face halted me.
“I … I guess I sort of understand. She was your sister, after all.” Still, I kept a healthy distance between us. “What did you
want to tell me?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said Brett Palmer’s family hated
Gina. They would’ve done anything to get rid of my sister.”
“Even kill her?”
“Si.” His mouth turned mutinous. “I overheard Brett’s parents
talking at the engagement party. They said the marriage would
never take place-they’d make sure of it-no matter what”
“They may not have wanted Gina as part of the family, but
that doesn’t mean they killed her. Sometimes people just say
things.” And think them. I refrained from telling him that I’d
frequently contemplated all sorts of ways to avoid every family
gathering my mother had planned over the years-including
the annual family reunion picnic in the Midwest. Every one
was the same: sour lemonade, dry ham, and overachieving siblings. Ugh.
Rivas mumbled something in Spanish under his breath.
“The Palmers were serious.”
“Well..”
“You’re a reporter. It’s your job to ask people questions.”
He weighed me with a critical squint. “You can find out if they
did something to harm my sister.”
“That’s not exactly what I do, you-“
“Gina’s dead!” He thumped his chest with his fists. “Her
soul won’t rest until I find out what happened to her.”
“You might want to talk to Detective Billie. He’s conducting the investigation.”
“Police. Bah.” He ground the cigarette butt farther into the
ground. “They do nothing to help the island workers”
I hesitated.
“Please. You must help us” His eyes had a tortured sadness
in the depths that tugged at my heart.
Mentally kicking myself, I reached into my cavernous canvas bag and pulled out my notepad. “Give me the address of
Brett’s parents”
“They live in muy elegance Sea Belle Isle Point-1565 Hibiscus Court. That’s where they had the engagement party.”
“Is there anyone else I could talk to about Gina?”
“Her partner, Isabel. They ran a decorating business together called Island Decor.”
“Oh, yeah, I know where that is-near the island center.”
Needless to say, I’d never set foot inside. One could only do so
much with an Airstream trailer like the one I lived in. The furniture was built into the unit, and I’d fixed it up with my version of shabby chic-heavy on the shabby, light on the chic.
“I’ll see what I can dig up, but I can’t make you any promises.”
“Gracias. I won’t forget this.” He gave a brief nod and went
back inside Mama Maria’s restaurant.
I flipped my notepad shut. Something told me I was getting
myself into a big, messy muddle. But what could I do? Aunt
Lily had begged me to find out what happened to Gina. Now
Rivas Fernandez was doing the same thing. And both of them
thought there was something suspicious about Gina’s demise.
Where there’s smoke, there’s fire-or at least there might be.
Certainly I was becoming more and more intrigued that
people thought Gina’s death seemed suspicious.
I drove toward the island
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