Fear Thy Neighbor (47)
“You should have a couple of cans outside. The county waste company comes to the island once a week.”
Alison went outside to see where the cans were. “Nothing out there,” she said to Valentina, who’d unpacked the supplies and placed them on the kitchen counter.
“You’ll have to call the city. I’ll take the garbage to my house. The cans aren’t full.”
“It’s too nasty. I can’t have you do that. I’ll find a place to dump this. Maybe by the bridge? Fish eat other fish, so why not give them an extra treat?”
“Don’t let anyone see you, or they’ll raise nine kinds of hell. Specifically Rummy. He owns the seafood shop and uses this yuck to make fish stew. I’ve never tried it—and won’t. I hear it’s best to dump fish guts in the deep, so all that grossness will decompose. If folks see entrails and guts in the shallow waters, Rummy will get wind of it. He’ll tell you what a wasteful person you are, blah, blah, blah.”
“Screw Rummy. I don’t care what he thinks. Actually, the tide is out now. I can toss this mess into the gulf and be done with it.”
“Good idea. I was going to suggest it, but I wasn’t sure if you were one of those eco-nuts we have around here.”
“No, but I’m thrifty, and don’t waste food. However, I have my limits, and that crap on the porch is going back where it came from. This is disgusting, but I have to ask—can you tell what kind of fish it was?”
“Maybe redfish? I’m not sure,” Valentina said. “You mentioned you might know who did this? Tell me if I’m being as nosy as my daughter, but is it someone I might know? If so, maybe I can . . . I don’t know, tell them off.” She gave a half laugh. “Not much help, I know.”
“He drives a taxi in Fort Charlotte. I ran into him my first morning at the hotel, then bumped into him again at Mel’s Diner and the Daily Grind. I couldn’t tell you why, but he has it in for me. He’s disgusting, so I’m sure you wouldn’t know him.”
“Are you kidding? Everyone knows Tank. He drives a cab most of the time when he’s not working on a shrimp boat. He’s a piece of work. He lives with his mom, I think. Smelly and the size of a broomstick. Everyone around the Pass has a story about him. Personally, I think he might be a little slow, but who am I to judge? He was able to get a driver’s license, so I guess he can read traffic signs.” Valentina grinned.
“That definitely sounds like the man I met.” She sprayed the inside of the freezer again. I’ll take care of those guts once the power is turned on. It shouldn’t be too late—at least that’s what the clerk at the power company told me. You don’t have to hang around here. It’s hot and smelly.”
“I don’t care. I’m enjoying myself. Are we still on for dinner? I haven’t had a good neighbor in forever, let alone one who invites me to dinner. Most folks are renters; they come and go. Of course, there’s John, but I stay away from him. You should too. I know I told you this, but seriously, he scares me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was involved with those bones they found a few years ago.”
“Absolutely, I didn’t forget about dinner or John! Though I hope he isn’t responsible for burying that bone I found earlier. Do you really think he was involved in any way? I’d hate to think I’m buying a home where someone was killed.”
Valentina’s words were laced with bitterness. “There are reasons I don’t want my daughter around him, though I couldn’t say for sure he was involved. If he was, his family would step in, pay off whomever, then he’d be right back where he is now.”
Briefly, Ali wondered if her new friend had been personally attacked by John. “He sounds like bad news.”
“Speaking of bad news, did you have some kind of altercation with Tank?” Valentina asked. “Not my business, I know.”
“At the Courtesy Court, Tank picked me up when I was walking. Long story not worth repeating. I think he’s got some sick fixation on me.”
“That sounds like him,” Valentina said. “His mother is strange, too. That place has been shut down so many times by the health department, I’ve lost count. It’s always in the back of the paper.”
Ali thought maybe Valentina mistaken. “The place was immaculate. At least my room was. Very modern, too.”
“Let me guess—you were in room number two?”
“How did you know? Did you use your gift?” Ali asked.
“Nope, just a known fact. When you’re here long enough, you’ll learn no one around the island can keep a secret. North Fort Charlotte, too. That motel’s in a bad part of town.”
It had seemed decent enough to Ali. She didn’t remember seeing anything out of place—no homeless folks living under trees or on the side of the road, no crackheads trying to rob her. “So what’s wrong with the other rooms? Are they being remodeled?”
Valentina looked away, a shadow dimming her blue eyes. “I don’t gossip. It causes too much trouble.”
“There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Ali prodded.
“Yes. There’s been talk about that motel for years, about strange happenings there. I didn’t want to say when we were talking to Kit earlier, but most folks on the island do think Betty is involved in a cult.” Valentina gave a half-laugh.