Stuart Woods - Choke

Tommy and Daryl beat a hasty retreat.

“Jesus Christ!” Daryl said when they were in the car again. “You should have warned me.”

Tommy grinned. “I thought I’d let you enjoy yourself.”

Daryl took a deep breath and let it out. “Did you find anything at all?”

“Not much,” Tommy replied. “Just the record of withdrawals and a trust document signed by Harry Carras.”

“What kind of trust?”

“It means that Clare Carras doesn’t have to go through probate; Harry’s estate is hers right now.”

“Which means she could take off at any time?”

“Right. Any time at all.”

“Then why hasn’t she already?”

“Like I told you before, she’s waiting for us to convict Chuck Chandler, the designated putz, of her husband’s murder. Then she can sail away, leaving no loose ends behind her for us to follow up.”

“Swell,” Daryl said.

“Except for the secret lover. She’ll have to tie up that loose end, and it’ll be interesting to see how she does it.”

“And who she does it to,” Daryl said.

Chuck pulled to a stop at the marina that served Little Palm Island. He went around to the marina office and, after a brief negotiation, rented a small Boston Whaler, and in a few minutes he was headed down the little canal toward open water.

He kept his speed down, so as not to cause a wake, until he was past the houses on the beach; then he opened the throttle and felt the breeze in his face. A couple of miles down the little bay were half a dozen yachts at anchor, and soon he could make out the outline of the Haileys’ catamaran. As he approached he slowed to idle, not wishing to disturb those on board the boats, then cut the engine and drifted alongside the yellow cat. There was no one in the cockpit, but the hatch was open.

“Meg!” he called out.

There was a muffled sound of someone moving below, and a female head emerged from the hatch. It was not Meg.

“Yeah, what is it?” the woman asked. She was a thirty ish brunette.

“I’m looking for Meg Hailey,” he said. “Is she aboard?”

“Who wants to know?” the woman asked.

“Chuck Chandler.”

The woman looked below. “Chuck Chandler,” she said to somebody.

There was a muffled cry from below. “Tell him to go to hell!”

“Meg!” Chuck shouted. “Please come up here and talk to me! It’s very important!”

“Get out of here, Chuck!”

“Meg, the police want to talk to you!”

A short silence. “What?”

“Haven’t you heard what’s happened?”

“Is this some kind of trick?”

“Meg, please come up here, I’ve got to talk to you!”

The brunette’s head vanished and was replaced by Meg’s. She looked sleepy and tousled. “All right, what?” she groused.

“Haven’t you heard what’s happened?”

“We’ve been in the Bahamas, and we haven’t heard about anything. What are you talking about?”

“Can I come aboard?”

She picked up a heavy winch handle. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Meg, Harry Carras has been murdered.”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then the penny dropped. “You mean the witch’s husband?”

“That’s the one.”

“Who killed him?”

“There’s a fairly large body of opinion that holds that I did.”

“Did you?”

“Of course not.”

“Chuck, if this is some kind of trick to get next to me again I…” She raised the winch handle.

“It’s not a trick, it’s what happened. It happened the day I went out on the boat with them, the day you packed up and left.”

“I told you not to go, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and that’s what you’ve got to tell the police.”

She looked around. “Where are the police?”

“In Key West. I’ll take you to the detective in charge right now, if you’ll let me.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Chuck, if you’re just trying to get ‘round me, I swear…”

“Come on, Meg; get some clothes on, and I’ll drive you to Key West. I’ll have you back here by sunset.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, what the hell.” She disappeared below.

Chuck sat in the boat, holding on to the gunwale of the cat, and waited. Ten minutes later she came up, dressed in jeans and a cotton sweater. It was the most clothing he had ever seen her wear. She handed him a large handbag and got into the Whaler. He started the engine and headed back to the marina.

“Who’s the girl?” he asked.

“Dan picked her up in Eleuthera; she was stranded. And that’s all I’ve got to say to you.” She set her jaw and refused to look at him.

Ashore, Chuck went to a pay phone and called his lawyer.

“I’ve found Meg Hailey,” he said.

“That’s good news,” the lawyer replied.

“What should I do with her?”

“I’ll meet you at police headquarters, in… wait a minute. It would look better if you just showed up there and handed her over.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

“Have you discussed with her anything she’s going to tell the police?”

“No. She’s not speaking to me.”

“Just as well. Don’t rehearse anything, just let her tell her story. Call me later if there’s anything I can do.”

“Okay.” Chuck hung up and went to the car. Meg, having produced a large straw hat from somewhere, was sitting in the passenger seat. He got in, started the car, and drove onto the highway.

“What am I supposed to tell the police?” Meg asked sullenly.

“Just answer their questions truthfully.”

“What questions?”

“I’m not supposed to rehearse you.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to. When the police are through questioning you, I’ll explain everything.” He drove on toward Key West. He wanted in the worst way to touch her, kiss her, but he restrained himself.

At police headquarters he asked for Tommy Sculley, and after a moment Tommy appeared.

“Tommy, this is Meg Hailey,” Chuck said.

“How do you do, Ms. Hailey,” Tommy said, then he turned back to Chuck questioningly.

“The young lady I told you about.”

Tommy looked at him blankly.

“I knew it,” Meg said. “This is some scam of yours.”

“Shut up, Meg. Tommy, this is the girl on the boat next to mine, the one you wanted to talk to.”

“Oh, that girl,” Tommy said. “Yes, Ms. Hailey, we would like to ask you some questions. Would you come with me, please?”

“I’ll wait,” Chuck said.

“Nah, we’ll be a while. Why don’t you go home, and I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“Okay,” Chuck said.

He drove back to Key West Bight, made some iced tea, and sat on the afterdeck next to the phone, waiting.

The sun was nearly down when Tommy Sculley and his partner pulled into the parking lot and got out, followed by Meg. The three walked toward the boat, and Chuck stood up to meet them.

“Here she is, Chuck,” Tommy said. “That’s quite a girl you’ve got there.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have her,” Chuck said. “I wish I did.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “Well, we’ll be going. She was very helpful to your case, Chuck.” He walked away, followed by Daryl.

“Would you like some iced tea?” he asked.

“Was that you in the airplane this morning?”

“Yes, a friend flew me out to look for you.”

“Had you looked for me before?”

“I didn’t know where to look. Finally I got desperate, and my friend agreed to fly me up the Keys.”

“Desperate because you needed me to back up your story?”

“That too,” he said.

She placed a hand on his cheek. “You really have been in a lot of trouble, haven’t you?”