Read Online Pier Pressure by Dorothy Francis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dorothy Francis
Tags: Mystery
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over the Keys. There’s almost no twilight between sunset and dark. At about five in the afternoon, or sometimes even sooner, the tourists begin drifting toward Mallory Dockto view the sunset and to watch the buskers who perform their sunset-ritual acts. Before I opened my reflexology office, I used to make a living of sorts by selling key lime cookies and palm frond hats at the dock, but tonight that seemed ages ago.
Now, even at this distance, the trade wind carried the eerie sound, the lonesome sound, of a bagpipe. I imagined the player dressed in plaid kilt and tam as he blew into his cumbersome instrument, summoning people to view the evening’s entertainment.
Jass turned on the lights that outlined the widow’s walk on the roof. From this cattycorner angle in the yard I saw five lights gleaming from each of two sides on the high porch. Nine of them were white and one glowed a bright green. I wondered if Beau knew the green light shone in memory of Jass’s mother.
In the tropics and near-tropics people sometimes say they’ve seen the flash of a green light at sunset—right at the instant the sun slips over the horizon and into the sea. Nobody has assigned meaning to this light, and personally, I’ve never noticed it, nor have I spent a lot of time looking. Gram claims to have seen the oddity twice as a girl in Havana.
Jass insists that both she and her mother saw the green flash from a cruise ship in the Bahamas. So, in the whimsical notion that her mother may be watching from above, Jass included one green bulb in the lights outlining the widow’s walk. Every now and then someone writes a human interest article about the green flash and the lights on Ashford Mansion.
Right now none of the lights helped me find my bicycle. I felt sure I’d left it leaning against a palm tree right inside the hibiscus hedge at the back of the property, but I couldn’t find it. What had possessed me to make me forget to lock it? Squinting at the ground, I walked the whole length of the hedge. Then I moved a few feet closer to the house and walked the same distance again. No bicycle. My fault for failing to chain it to the palm tree, but I didn’t think anyone had seen me push through the thicket into this private backyard. Damn! I needed that bike.
I hated my choices at this point. I could walk on home. Neither my shop nor my apartment were beyond walking distance. On an island only two miles wide, almost everything lies within walking distance. Yes, I could hoof it. I hated to intrude on the Ashfords right now by asking for a ride.
A few minutes later, I told myself my need for my bike tomorrow morning made my decision to call Jass realistic. To my own need, I added the fact that Gram sometimes had errands for me that required wheels. Deep down, however, I knew the events of the day had rattled me, shaken me more than I cared to admit. I hated the idea of walking alone on Key West tonight. Pulling out my cell phone, I keyed in Jass’s private number.
“Keely?” Of course Jass sounded surprised to be hearing from me again so soon.
“My bike’s disappeared. Ask Punt if I can still take him up on his offer of a ride.”
“You sure you looked carefully? We seldom have trespassers.”
“I’ll take another look, but…”
“Never mind, Keely. Punt’s on his way down. He’ll take a look around and then drive you home if the two of you can’t find your bike.”
“Thanks a bunch, Jass. Hate to bother you.”
“No bother at all.”
By the time I shoved the cell phone back into my pocket, Punt stepped outside. I won’t say he hurried. Punt seldom hurries, but he did act concerned. Together we paced across the backyard as I had done before, and then we retraced our steps and covered the same territory again.
“Strange,” Punt said. “Better call the police and report the bike missing. No way you can collect any insurance unless you’ve reported the theft.”
“Think I’ll wait and report it tomorrow.
Now, even at this distance, the trade wind carried the eerie sound, the lonesome sound, of a bagpipe. I imagined the player dressed in plaid kilt and tam as he blew into his cumbersome instrument, summoning people to view the evening’s entertainment.
Jass turned on the lights that outlined the widow’s walk on the roof. From this cattycorner angle in the yard I saw five lights gleaming from each of two sides on the high porch. Nine of them were white and one glowed a bright green. I wondered if Beau knew the green light shone in memory of Jass’s mother.
In the tropics and near-tropics people sometimes say they’ve seen the flash of a green light at sunset—right at the instant the sun slips over the horizon and into the sea. Nobody has assigned meaning to this light, and personally, I’ve never noticed it, nor have I spent a lot of time looking. Gram claims to have seen the oddity twice as a girl in Havana.
Jass insists that both she and her mother saw the green flash from a cruise ship in the Bahamas. So, in the whimsical notion that her mother may be watching from above, Jass included one green bulb in the lights outlining the widow’s walk. Every now and then someone writes a human interest article about the green flash and the lights on Ashford Mansion.
Right now none of the lights helped me find my bicycle. I felt sure I’d left it leaning against a palm tree right inside the hibiscus hedge at the back of the property, but I couldn’t find it. What had possessed me to make me forget to lock it? Squinting at the ground, I walked the whole length of the hedge. Then I moved a few feet closer to the house and walked the same distance again. No bicycle. My fault for failing to chain it to the palm tree, but I didn’t think anyone had seen me push through the thicket into this private backyard. Damn! I needed that bike.
I hated my choices at this point. I could walk on home. Neither my shop nor my apartment were beyond walking distance. On an island only two miles wide, almost everything lies within walking distance. Yes, I could hoof it. I hated to intrude on the Ashfords right now by asking for a ride.
A few minutes later, I told myself my need for my bike tomorrow morning made my decision to call Jass realistic. To my own need, I added the fact that Gram sometimes had errands for me that required wheels. Deep down, however, I knew the events of the day had rattled me, shaken me more than I cared to admit. I hated the idea of walking alone on Key West tonight. Pulling out my cell phone, I keyed in Jass’s private number.
“Keely?” Of course Jass sounded surprised to be hearing from me again so soon.
“My bike’s disappeared. Ask Punt if I can still take him up on his offer of a ride.”
“You sure you looked carefully? We seldom have trespassers.”
“I’ll take another look, but…”
“Never mind, Keely. Punt’s on his way down. He’ll take a look around and then drive you home if the two of you can’t find your bike.”
“Thanks a bunch, Jass. Hate to bother you.”
“No bother at all.”
By the time I shoved the cell phone back into my pocket, Punt stepped outside. I won’t say he hurried. Punt seldom hurries, but he did act concerned. Together we paced across the backyard as I had done before, and then we retraced our steps and covered the same territory again.
“Strange,” Punt said. “Better call the police and report the bike missing. No way you can collect any insurance unless you’ve reported the theft.”
“Think I’ll wait and report it tomorrow.