James walked in the direction of Holiday Isle, and I assumed he’d be occupied for the next several hours.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I left Em at the poolside bar with the popular Bobbie as I headed out to the check-in, a small building at the front of the resort. Our resort.
The girl I’d talked to when we found the body was sitting there staring at her computer screen.
She looked up when I opened the door.
“Oh, wasn’t that creepy?”
“It was.”
Doing a mock shiver, she smiled at me. “I still get goose bumps to think that, you know-and you? You had to see it. Oh, my God. You had to look at the body. Was it gross?”
“It was.”
She shuddered for real.
“I’ve got a question for you. Are you familiar with the water-front suites about a mile and a half down the road called Ocean Air Suites?”
“Sure. I’ve got a friend who cleans rooms there.”
“Really? It’s right next to that vacant lot, right?”
“Uh-huh. The strange lot that’s fenced in.”
“Who owns the suites?”
“You want to know who is her boss?”
“Yeah.”
“Doctor James O’Neill.”
“Really? The same guy who has the chiropractor business?” I don’t know why that surprised me, but I wasn’t expecting it.
She laughed. “He’s an orthopedic surgeon. I think there’s a difference.”
“Something to do with bones.”
She nodded.
“Do you know Doctor O’Neill?”
“Not really. He tends to keep to himself. Jan doesn’t know him either. She says he doesn’t show up very often. I think his practice keeps him busy.”
“She’s met him?”
“I think so. Maybe one time he showed up late in the morning with a group of tourists. Yeah. That was it. They were supposed to come in maybe two a.m. and the boat was delayed. She was cleaning rooms and he showed up with these people at nine in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“But the place is kind of weird. There are days when she’ll get a call and they don’t need her.”
“Off season, when it’s slow?”
“Not necessarily. It’s like that whole group will check in really late, sleep all day, and check out the next night. Not till maybe eleven p.m. So they lay her off for two days and then she’s got to clean every room the next day. Happens once or twice a month. She’s looking at some other job opportunities because this one is shaky. But the economy being what it is-”
“People who check in late and check out late? Ah, tourists. Who can understand them?”
“I just know that we need them.”
She smiled and looked back at her computer.
I joined Em at the bar, my beer already on the counter, light brown and bubbly, sparkling in the late afternoon sun.
Bobbie looked at me and frowned.
“My God, this girl, Amy,” Em said, “with James, she’s having an affair on top of an affair.”
“She’s on vacation, Emily. You can’t have too much fun.”
She smiled and sipped her beer, licking the foam off the top.
“Your good friend seems to have more fun than he should.”
I agreed. But I didn’t want Em telling me that. It was a guy thing. James was James. Em never seemed to get that.
“Hey, I found out something interesting. That motel, excuse me, those suites on the north side of the fence-”
“Yeah?”
“They belong to the orthopedic guy next to the Vein Care Center.”
“So he’s got an investment close to his office. So what?”
“Well, it’s just funny. This Doctor Malhotra owns the boat dock property and Dr. O’Neill owns the suites. And early this morning we see the boat come in and people disappearing at the suites’ side of the property.”
“I think you’re making too much of that.”
“Maybe, but you factor in that there were attack dogs for security.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“And the fact that Jan, who works there, says guests sometimes check in very late and check out late the next night. Don’t most motels and hotels have checkout by noon?”
I very seldom stayed in a hotel. I could barely afford the rat hole we lived in outside of Miami.
“That’s the group we saw. The early morning arrivals.” Em looked me in the eyes. “By the way, you’re getting pretty good at this detective business.”
“How’s that?”
“Look at all you’ve learned in the past twenty-four hours.”
“I’m no closer to the gold.”
“You’ve only been here a couple of days, boyfriend.”
I liked it when she called me that.
Standing up, she motioned to me. We walked to the beach, and she took my hand. At that very second, life couldn’t have been any better. Of course, that never lasts.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
We had dinner at the Ocean View Inn and Pub. The place was on the gulf side of the Key and did not overlook the ocean. That didn’t seem to matter. It was still the Ocean View Inn.
“Are you sure you want to eat here?” Em was watching ten guys across the bar, laughing loudly, cussing a blue streak, and slamming down their beers as fast as they could.
The bar/restaurant/inn was directly across the highway from Pelican Cove. It was close, walkable, and Bobbie volunteered that the bar food here was passable and it was cheap. She also said some pro football players owned the place and it was world famous. I sensed a theme in Islamorada.
The sign out front said: OLDEST ESTABLISHED LIQUOR LICENSE IN THE KEYS. Everything seemed to revolve around the Keys and alcohol.
Sitting down, I immediately saw there was something sunken into the dark wood bar. A small plaque was embedded there as well. “Spike from Henry Flagler’s railroad,” it read.
“Em, this is cool. It’s a spike from Flagler’s folly.”
She gave me a suspicious look, then gazed up and down the bar. To her right was a guy who looked like an ex-football player. His curly hair hung in ringlets and his muscle had turned to flab.
Next to him were two older fishermen, the creases in their faces showing the effects of too many days in the
