She's Not There (7 page)

Joe said, “Fitzy, for Christ's sake.”

Fitzy didn't know about respecting privacy.

Willa was reading the paper at the end of the counter when we'd come in, ready to help Ernie if he needed it before she opened the grocery store. But as soon as she saw us, she jumped off her stool. Willa was always in a jumping-up-and-down state, at the ready, waiting for some signal to set her into action.

Except for Jake, they continued to stare, even Esther over the top of her book. Ernie hurried over with a pot of coffee and three cups, filled them, and stood in front of the table. “Get you anything else?”

Joe said, “We haven't decided. Just the coffee for now.”

Ernie didn't move. He was waiting. They all were.

Joe said, “I suppose you guys want the gory details.”

Immediately, Willa in the lead, they all pulled chairs up around us, again with the exception of Jake, who remained engrossed in his wires, and Esther, pretending to be equally engrossed in her book. Ernie leaned over, one elbow on our table. He pushed his Sox cap back. He said, “So was the gal really stark naked?”

I said, “Not quite. Almost. Her clothes were ripped off except for a few shreds.”

They edged closer.

Mick said, “I bet that Aggie musta peed her pants.”

Billy elbowed him. “We got ladies here, Mick.”

“Sorry.”

They waited. Fitzy said, “None of it is any of your goddamned business, Billy, old man. You know that, right?”

Joe stopped stirring his black coffee. “Fitzy, this island is their home. Something unpleasant has happened in their neighborhood. They deserve to hear it.”

Unpleasant, I thought. Who was protecting who?

Willa said, “Poppy, drink your coffee, honey. Then tell us everything, right from the beginning. And Fitzy, I don't have to serve you if I don't want to.”

“Okay, I'll shut up. Only because I'm real hungry.”

I drank the coffee and then described my bike ride and the gulls and seeing the girl's body. And that she was almost naked. And overweight, so I'd assumed she'd come from the camp.

Mick said, “Confirmed. From the fat farm.”

Billy elbowed him again, this time for interrupting.

I said, “I went into the B and B for help.”

“What B and B?” Fred Prentiss asked me.

Willa rolled her eyes. “Aggie's old farmhouse up on Coonymus.”

“Oh, that one.”

Willa said, “What happened then?”

“I had Aggie call the constable. When he got there, he declared her dead.”

Fred said, “Smart piece of work, our Tommy.”

They all peeked over at Jake. He was concentrating so hard on his wires his eyes were crossed.

Ernie turned on Fred and hissed, “What else could Tommy have done? That's what he's supposed to do if someone's dead. You declare it. Ain't that right, Joe?”

Joe said, “That's right.” Fitzy rolled his eyes.

Fred hung his head. He'd overstepped the bounds he was so grudgingly allowed.

I continued on. “I went for one of the troopers. He had me call Dr. Brisbane. Then I went back to see if I could be of help.”

They all squinted at me. Willa said, “You a nurse?”

Joe said, “Poppy is an FBI agent.”

They pulled back as if he'd told them I was a Martian.

Mick said, “You are not.”

Joe confirmed. They looked at Fitzy.

He said, “That's what the lady claims.”

They closed their mouths, which had been hanging open, and smiled at one another. Willa patted her hair and the fellows adjusted their Red Sox caps. I had gained a new respect; Mick confirmed it. “I told you people she wasn't just another bimbo.”

I said to Joe, “Who do you usually bring here, chorus girls?”

Billy said to his friend, “Now see? You went and started a to-do.”

Ernie said, “Never mind those fellas, Poppy. So when you went for the cops, which trooper did you talk to? The drunk here or the rookie?”

Fitzy choked on his coffee.

“Officer Fitzgerald,” I said.

“He told you to call the doc?”

“Yes. While he went to find his rookie.”

Willa said, “This morning, Carol came in to pick up egg sandwiches for her and the doc. Just before Joe got here. She said—”

“I'm sorry. Carol?” Sounded familiar.

Joe said, “Doc's assistant.” Oh, yes.
That
Carol. The one who takes care of her boss when he shoots himself up with Demerol.

“She ain't a nurse either, but never mind that. She told us the doc told her the rookie cop barfed. Did he really?”

“I'm afraid he did.”

“Can't blame him none there.”

“And besides that,” Fitzy told them, “he upped and quit. Boy thought he'd have an exciting career here, wearing those jazzy sunglasses, chasing speeders. Disillusioned.”

Mick said, “Well, it must have been a very bad sight.”

I said, “Confirmed.”

Joe asked them, “Did Carol say what the doc thought?”

Billy told him she did. “The doc said he couldn't figure out what the hell happened to that girl, but if you ask me, I'd have to say it sounds like your basic rape case. Raped and strangled. Carol said there wasn't a drop of blood on her, either. That she was twisted up like some kind of whirling dervish, whatever that means. What does that mean, Poppy?”

“All her muscles had contracted.”

“Oh. Well, raped and strangled is my bet. Thanks to these damned perverted day-trippers.”

Mick said, “A strangled person would be purple with her tongue stickin' out.” He demonstrated.

Billy gave him yet another elbow. “How the hell would you know what a strangled person looks like?”

“I seen strangled people in the war. While you were sittin' around here with your so-called high blood pressure. I seen 'em in
Itlee
. In France too. If we took prisoners? Then … well, say, some guy lost a buddy that day? He'd maybe take it out on one of the Jerry prisoners.”

Fitzy said, “She hadn't been strangled. Or raped either.”

Joe took over. “According to the coroner over in Providence, she wasn't raped. Maybe a party got out of hand, who knows? But if there's a rumor that a girl was raped and strangled on Block Island, all the overnight tourists will cancel their reservations and the ferries will come in empty.”

Willa got the point. “Okay, forget what I said.”

Ernie leaned in and rested his forearms on the table. “Then it had to be drugs that killed her.”

Mick nodded firmly. “Had to be.”

Willa dissented. “Nobody's got any drugs on this island or our Tommy would sniff 'em out.”

Ernie would have his say. “I heard she brought a suitcase full of drugs from home, so Tommy never had a chance to sniff 'em out when you think about it. She could've maybe been so doped up she was hit by a car trying to get back to camp. All spacey, ya know? Car hit her, snapped her backbone. Damaged the nerves so's her muscles spasmed up.”

Mick said, “That don't explain the naked part.”

“Sure it does. She goes to this party, goes skinny-dippin' and, ya know, gets drunk and drugged up—couldn't find her clothes. No sex crime. Just kids havin' the wrong kind of fun.” He turned to Jim Lane's kid. “Ain't that right?”

Jim Lane's kid had a faraway look on his face. He said, “I saw a fox get hit by a car once. He had a fit. He got all twisted up tryin' to bite off his broke back leg. Maybe Ernie's right.”

While they took in the teenager's words, I couldn't help thinking that the image he conjured up for us was not all that farfetched. She did look like she'd tried to bite off her own leg. And her arms too.

I said, “I think I feel like taking a walk. I'm not really hungry, guys.”

They were appalled at that. Willa jumped up. “Hey, honey, we're sorry you're upset. None of us got any appetite this morning. Billy and Mick just picked at their eggs, and they're a couple of bottomless pits. How about a nice little bowl of oatmeal? Warm your insides. Look at it like a way to feel better, not just eating breakfast.”

Joe said, “Well, we're planning to leave shortly. We have to—”

Together they said, “
Leave?
”

Consternation was followed by all of them talking at once.

“Joe, now you listen here. Tommy's going to need your help.”

Fitzy said, “What am I, chopped liver?”

They ignored him. “He's going to have to find out who that day-tripper is out there, sellin' dangerous drugs to those girls. Because I don't believe for a minute she brought the drugs from home, not drugs that dangerous.”

“And Tommy'll sure need you too, miss. FBI! Whoa, mama.”

“Invisible chopped liver,” Fitzy said.

“Just stay maybe the week and have a look around. Whatever that girl took, who knows? What if there's more of it up at the camp? Who's going to find that out?”

Even Esther made her opinion known. We all turned to her when she spoke, answered that final question. “Joe,” she said. “That's his job.”

Outside, Pal barked, and the constable came in the door.

Tommy ignored everyone. He went directly to Jake and sat next to him. Then he spoke. “Boy's ready for his pancakes.”

Willa dashed to the table and started resetting it. Jake had cleared his napkin and silverware to one edge so he'd have room for his wires. Ernie went back behind the counter. “Comin' right up, Tommy. Nice and hot.”

Under the shadow of their island's authority figure, Billy and Mick went back to their counter stools, Fred to his, Jim Lane's kid to his table. Willa returned to us. “I'm going to go mix up that oatmeal. I got a box of brown sugar somewhere, plenty of half-and-half—my oatmeal is nice 'n' creamy because of the half-and-half—and I'll run into the store, get some raisins.”

I had to smile at her. “Sounds like cookie dough, not oatmeal.”

“Only way to eat oatmeal, unless you're one of those health nuts.”

“I really don't need the raisins.”

“'Course you do. What about you boys?”

Joe said, “Sounds good.”

Fitzy said, “Sounds like something that would make me gag. Ernie can make up another order of pancakes for me, plus some bacon.”

She dashed off, wiping her hands on her apron as she went out the door.

Ernie took a stack of pancakes over to Jake. Tommy had to pry the circuit box out of Jake's hands. He said, “Sit up now, boy. Here's your pancakes. What do you say to Ernie?”

Jake worked hard to leave his own world and enter ours. He whispered, without looking up, “Fanks.”

“Hey, ya welcome, Jake.” Jake winced. Ernie's voice naturally boomed.

Tommy spread butter on the pancakes and poured the syrup. Then he cut the pancakes into bite-sized pieces. He squeezed a fork into Jake's hand. He said, “Eat.”

Jake put the fork to his lips then back to the plate three times. He did this with each bite. Joe had explained Jake's habits at breakfast our first morning. “He ritualizes everything except whatever it is he does with electricity and all those gadgets he plays with. Fooling with wires and batteries is his only escape from his obsessive compulsions.”

Each morning I watched Jake eat—three bites, three chews, three swallows, three gulps of orange juice, three swipes at his mouth with his napkin, which he picked up and put down three times. It was difficult not to watch him in the same way you can't not watch a Zamboni machine. Or a boat docking. Or a wrecking ball.

The oatmeal was all that Willa had promised, and not a little bowl but a big one—two of them. “That looks terrific, Willa,” Joe said to her.

“Little bit of molasses too, just the way you like it, Joe.”

Fitzy said, “Can this get more disgusting?” He was drenching his pancakes and bacon with syrup.

After several spoonfuls Joe finally looked up. He said to me, “I hate to admit it, but I am beginning to feel fortified. You?”

I hated to admit it too. “Yes.” Then I said, “Joe?”

“What, sweetheart?”

“Let's stay.”

How could I leave when I was feeling such an irresistible urge to poke around? I wanted to ask some questions. I wanted to find out what killed that girl, caused her to die so violently. I wanted to know if someone sold drugs to her or if she brought the drugs from Connecticut. I wanted to know who did the selling, whether it was here or in Connecticut. I wanted to know who dumped her nearly naked body out on the road with no thought of helping her. And I wanted to know where her clothes were. I wanted to look for the place where death had occurred. I wanted to consult with my people in Washington between those questions—by phone. Nothing new there, they were used to me sticking it out in the field. And at the moment, I also wanted to eat every spoonful of my fortifying oatmeal. I would do all that.

When we'd finished scraping our bowls, Joe said to Ernie, “Poppy and I are going to take our walk. Poppy thinks we should stay after all. The two of us need to talk.”

I said, “Your wife's oatmeal made me see reason.”

Ernie grinned. “Willa's oatmeal'll do that.”

Willa jumped off her stool. “Thanks. Aim to please.”

Ernie folded his arms across his chest. “We've got to go out of our way to be extra nice to those fat girls when they come into town. Once word gets out, our campers are gonna be the second biggest attraction on the Block, after the South Light.”

Fitzy said, “Enjoy your walk. Hope you like heat. And don't sweat too hard. Ernie, get me another stack.”

I said to him, “Fitzy, we'll see about talking to the camper … Rachel. Okay?”

He said, “Give it a day.”

We left. Joe didn't pay Ernie. That was because Ernie wouldn't take money from him, just like Billy and Mick wouldn't. One night a few years ago, Willa had woken up in a lot of pain. The doc said it was gallstones and her gallbladder was inflamed. Joe flew her to Providence.