With no other options available, I started walking down the road. It was sunny and hot and after a few minutes I was wishing I had brought a hat, or maybe just stayed in Ohio. While I walked and worried about how far I was getting behind Brody and Gavin, I heard the sound of a motor getting closer. It didn't sound like a car engine or anything else I could think of. I turned and looked down the road behind me and saw what appeared to be a small airplane speeding toward me! I knew things were different on the island but I hadn't anticipated that someone would use the main road as a landing strip! I jumped into some bushes at the side of the road, all the while wondering if the heat was causing me to hallucinate. However, as the vehicle approached me it pulled to a stop and over the incredibly loud roar of the engine I heard Vera Hayes call, “Hi, Teri! When you're finished relieving yourself in those bushes I can give you a ride if you need one!”

  As I gaped at the weird contraption she was driving, I realized that it was a golf cart! It had been tricked out to resemble a jet airplane; the words Boeing 707 were painted on the vinyl canopy top, the front was shaped like a nose cone, and short wings on the side and faux jet engines on the back completed the picture. The cart was covered with stickers bearing the names of different cities: Rome, Lisbon, London, Berlin and Valdosta, GA.

  I had a lot of questions that I could have Vera at that moment, but every minute that passed by meant that Brody and Gavin were getting farther ahead of me, so I said, “Thanks, Vera. I'm trying to catch up with Brody. He's got Gavin in his truck and I don't want to lose him.”

  “Ooooo, so you're helping your Aunt Sam investigate the murder and this is a hostage situation!” Vera said excitedly. “Well, fasten you seat belt, honey! This is going to get hot!”

  “No, no, Vera, I just want to ask Gavin some questions,” I said, but I don't think she could hear me over the roar of the “jet” engines as she sped down the road as fast as the golf cart could go.

  We turned a corner and I spotted Brody's truck up ahead. We weren't exactly gaining on them, but we were keeping pace, which was better than I was doing on foot. Suddenly Vera cranked the wheel and we veered off the road into a thick stand of bushes and undergrowth.

  “Where are we going?” I cried.

  “This is a shortcut!” Vera shouted back. “Every minute counts in a kidnapping! We'll catch up with them in no time this way!”

  The nose cone and metal wings of the golf cart cut through the brush as we jumped and bumped over the rocky ground. My knuckles turned white as I held onto the side of the seat for dear life; if I fell out here it I figured it could be months before my body was recovered. After we had gone a short distance I saw, through the leaves that were blowing into my face, that we were thankfully approaching a road ahead. However, when we reached it I saw to my dismay that it wasn't a road at all; it was a walking path. I knew it was a walking path because there was a large sign that read “Walking Path: Pets Must Be Leashed, No Motorized Vehicles Allowed”. Vera turned onto the path and gunned the motor, the wings still slicing through the foliage on both sides.

  I really hoped no one had chosen now to walk on this trail, and I hoped even more that we would reach a real road soon. I wanted to ask Vera if she was sure she knew where she was going, but before I could say anything she pulled a can of pepper spray out of her huge handbag that was sitting on the floor between us, and held it out to me.

  “Here, take this with you,” she said. “Gavin is probably armed and after what he did to his father we know he's dangerous!”

  Just then I saw an old man with a small dog step onto the walking trail just a few yards up ahead of us. “Look out!” I screamed.

  Vera swerved wildly, looping the cart out into the underbrush as we blew by the man, and then jumped back onto the path without ever taking her foot off the gas. As we lurched out of the bushes, Vera slid into me and she pressed down on the top of the can of pepper spray she was about to hand me. Suddenly I was enveloped in what felt like a cloud of fire; my eyes started streaming and I coughed like crazy. I tried to stick my head out of the cart window to get some relief, but before I could, my head hit the ceiling as we started bouncing up and down uncontrollably.

  “Wow, those wooden steps are higher than I remembered!” Vera said. She looked over at me and said, “Really, Teri, you should be wearing your sunglasses. Your eyes seem red and watery.”

  I glanced back through my blurry eyes at the flight of about a dozen steps we had just driven down and was amazed that we'd survived it. People were cursing and scattering as Vera raced along the walking path with the horn on the golf cart blaring the first line of When The Saints Go Marching In.

  “You're probably wondering why I chose that particular song for the horn,” Vera said. Actually, I wasn't. At this point I would have been surprised if it weren't something like that. “I've been a New Orleans Saints fan ever since they beat some team or other and I won $30 from our football pool at the book club,” Vera continued. “I hope you're going to join the book club now that you're settling down here. You'd love it.” The golf cart plunged off the path and back into the brush.

  “Sounds great,” I gasped, “but I'm going back to Ohio in a week or so.”

  “Why would you want to go back to Ohio? I'm sure you could find work here.”

  Why would I want to leave here? Oh, I don't know, I thought; could it be because I'm hurtling through the woods in a bizarre golf cart driven by a crazy woman who thinks she's driving a jet plane, or because I'm chasing after someone who might be a murderer so I can ask him if he killed his father, or because I have try to sleep at night hoping that one of the homicidal maniacs from the B&B doesn't try to do away with me, or --- my thoughts were interrupted as the golf cart burst out of the bushes and pulled back onto the main road. I was still trying to recover from the accidental pepper spray attack, but at least I wasn't dodging tree branches anymore.

  “This is great!” said Vera. “We're closing in on them now!”

  I looked down the road ahead through stinging eyes and saw Brody's truck. It appeared to be exactly the same distance away as it was before we took our life-threatening short cut.

  I picked up a bottle of spring water that had fallen out of Vera's bag and was rolling around the floor of the golf cart, and poured some of the water onto a handkerchief so that I could clean my face. I spotted a big sign by the roadside up ahead, and as we got close I saw that it read “The Doldrums Historic Preservation Area, Home of the World Famous Doldrums Casino.”

  Brightly colored bungalows with neatly manicured lawns filled with tropical flowers and fruit trees had lined the road up to this point, but after we passed the sign the scenery changed dramatically; The houses looked more like old shacks, and I noticed broken windows, peeling paint and sagging front porches.

  Vera nodded toward the sad-looking homes and said, “Now this here is the historic preservation district. Some of these houses are more than 150 years old, you know! This area's going to look quite nice when the homeowners are allowed to fix up their homes.”

  “Why can't they fix them up now?” I asked.

  “Well you see, they have a committee that decides what improvements can be done on the historical homes. There are 12 members on the committee with six from one party and six from the opposing party, so they never can get a majority to agree on the rules for fixing up the houses. The homeowners aren't allowed to make any changes to their homes until the committee tells them what's allowed. But I'm sure they'll make some decisions before long.”

  I looked at the houses and thought that if the committee doesn't make a decision soon, the next strong wind is going to decide it for them.

  “Oh look, we're coming up to the town square,” Vera said. “Gavin's probably going to hole up in one of the empty store fronts with Brody and start making his ransom demands. He'll probably want a helicopter and a lot of cash. What's the play? Attack head on, or do you want to distract him while I circle around the back?”

  “Er – I didn't explain the situation very well, Vera,” I said. “Gavin didn't take Brody hostage. Aunt Sam just wants me to talk to Gavin. Gavin got a call that he was supposed to meet someone so when Brody gave him a ride I wanted to follow him.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, the hostage thing would have been more exciting but I do have some errands to run before lunch so I suppose it's just as well. There probably isn't room for a helicopter to land in the town square anyhow.”

  The town square was a broad intersection with shops, about half of which were empty, lining the street. Those that were doing business included a discount store selling used bathing suits and towels, floaties, beach balls and water toys, as well as secondhand mattresses and pillows, and next door to that was a pawn shop, a bail-bondsman and a couple of dive bars. There were also two food trucks in the square. They were both propped up on cinder blocks, since they didn't have tires. One was selling shaved ice cones, soda and popcorn and the other was selling pizza, including “Five-Alarm Chili on a Thin Cracker-like Crust”. The food must have been okay, judging from the stray dogs and chickens lingering about to snap up any scraps that were dropped. Sometimes seagulls would swoop down and try to beat them to it, too.

  In the center of the intersection there was a small fenced-off section of pavement where a statue stood on a stone pedestal. It appeared to be the statue of what possibly had been a ship captain, but it was hard to tell for sure because it was covered in graffiti and missing its head and one arm. The arm was lying on the ground next to it, but the head was nowhere to be seen.

  I saw Brody's truck stop in front of a large square building at the far end of the square where a crowd of colorful tourists and dingy locals had gathered, and Gavin got out.

  Vera pulled to a stop across the street and I hopped out. “Thanks for the ride, Vera,” I said, standing on my toes to try to catch a glimpse of Gavin in the crowd. I spotted him for a split second as he passed through the doors of the large square building.

  “Are you sure you don't want to take the pepper spray?” Vera asked, offering me the bottle again with her finger dangerously close to button. “I think there's still a little left.”

  “N-no thanks,” I said, forcing a smile as I hurriedly backed away, “There are plenty of people around. I'm sure I'll be safe.”

  “Okay, just give me a call if you change your mind.”

  I walked briskly toward the the building Gavin had entered, hoping I hadn't lost him. A large cracked plastic sign above the door read: “EZ Money Casino. Home of the 2 for 1 penny slots!” So this was the world famous Doldrums Casino. I hadn't expected it to be Caesars Palace, but with it's peeling paint, rusted gutters and an impressively diverse collection of beer cans scattered on the ground, it looked more like an abandoned warehouse than anything else.

  A corroded brass plaque mounted next to the door caught my eye. It appeared to be some kind of historical marker. The title read: “Doldrums Fish Market and Cannery. Est. 1906” and was accompanied by a small paragraph giving the history of the building. A handwritten sign had been taped beneath plaque that read: “We don't sell fish here. Don't ask!” Well, that explained a lot.

  I opened the door and was immediately assailed by loud oldies music and the odor of rotting fish. How long had it been since this place had been a cannery? The casino was large, dimly lit, and had the general air of dinginess that seemed to pervade the rest of the Doldrums. I looked for Gavin among the people gathered around the gaming tables, but I didn't see him. Maybe he was in some room in the back. Don't casinos have VIP rooms or something? The idea of the EZ Money Casino having a VIP room seemed a little far-fetched, but it was worth a look.

  I started toward the back of the building and had made my way about half way there when a hand shot out from behind a row of dented slot machines and grabbed my arm. It was Gavin.

  “Why are you following me, you nosy bitch?” he growled. “Stay away from me if you know what's good for you!”

  My breath caught in my throat and for a second I felt paralyzed. Then a wave of emotion washed over me that to my surprise, wasn't fear but... anger!

  I. Was. Mad! Mad at the self absorbed Dawn. Mad at the passive-aggressive Vanessa. Mad at the hostile Kristi. Mad at the drunken and unpleasant Charlie. And totally fed up with nasty spoiled Gavin! Who did this little twerp think he was, threatening me like some cheap gangster in a low rent mobster movie?

  “Keep your hands to yourself and lose the attitude, you overgrown schoolyard bully!” I snapped, yanking my arm from his grip. Gavin looked surprised and actually started to back away from me. I was pretty good at this “bad cop” stuff. I should have tried it a long time ago. “You didn't bother to tell anyone that you and Dawn had a serious relationship before she threw you over for Brent! That gives you a pretty big motive for murder in my book! Ever since your father was murdered, you've been sneaking around, taking secret phone calls and acting suspicious! I think it's about time you started answering a few questions!”

  “Like hell!” Gavin retorted. He had recovered from his initial shock and was back in full jerk mode. “You're not the sheriff! I don't have to tell you a damn thing! So back off or-”

  “Or what?” I snarled. I had never left full bad cop mode.

  Suddenly our dramatic stand off was interrupted by a commotion at the front of the room. A man and woman's angry voices were echoing off the old brick walls and rusty tin roof of the cannery-turned-casino. The man's voice sounded kind of familiar. I looked over the row of slot machines and saw Captain Caleb, red faced and drunk as usual, steadying himself against a gaming table. An attractive woman with blond hair stood facing him, her hands on her hips.

  “Gimme them keys!” Caleb slurred.

  “Like hell I will!” the woman retorted angrily. “Now get your drunken behind out of here before I have you thrown out!”

  “You're my wife, gol-dammit, and it's my house, too! Now gimme them keys! You owe me-”

  “I don't owe you a damn thing! Get it through that pickled brain of yours that we're divorced! I'm not your wife and I don't have to put up with your nonsense anymore!”

  So that was Caleb's ex-wife! She had to be at least thirty years younger than he was. Looking at her bright blue eyes and blond hair curled into a style that reminded me of Marilyn Monroe, I couldn't help but wonder what she had seen in the alcoholic “Captain”. No wonder people say love is blind.

  “I ain't leavin' till I get them keys!” Caleb continued belligerently.

  To large men who resembled Bigfoot and his mutant cousin lumbered toward Caleb and his very ex-wife.

  “Hey, buddy, this ain't happening in here,” Bigfoot said, and socked Captain Caleb in the gut. The old man sunk to the floor, gasping and sputtering. Mutant cousin grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him to his feet.

  “Whatsamatter Captain? Ain't got yer sea legs yet?” he said with a loud guffaw.

  “Not in here, you morons!” Caleb's ex-wife snapped. “Are you trying to get us in trouble? Take it outside!”

  The two bouncers dragged Caleb out the front door with me close on their heels. I wasn't a member of the Captain Caleb fan club, but I didn't want to see him get hurt either. He may be an obnoxious drunk, but in the end he was still an old man and these two thugs didn't look like they were going to treat him with kid gloves.

  Caleb's ex turned back to her table of blackjack players and said cheerfully, “Don't mind him. Just a colorful character who got a little too colorful today. Now who's betting?”

  I got out of the front door just in time to see Bigfoot toss Caleb head over heels into the dusty alleyway beside the casino.

  “Land ho!” he laughed. His friend gave Caleb a sharp kick in the ribs.

  “If ya ever show yer sorry hide 'round here again, we'll really swab the decks with ya!” he said.

  “Stop it!” I shouted, trying to sound more aggressive than I felt at the moment, “He's just an old man. Leave him alone!”

  The bouncer turned to look at me with a mix of amusement and disinterest. “Get lost, lady!” he said. “This here is family business.”

  “Looks more like assault and battery to me,” a voice from behind me said.

  I turned to see Buff standing on the sidewalk in front of the alley. He was wearing aviator style sunglasses and his thumbs were hooked inside his belt buckles. His bald spot was shinier than usual.

  “Looks like Barney Fife's come to lay down the law!” Mutant cousin chuckled.

  “You lost, deputy?” Bigfoot said, as the two slowly advanced on Buff. “The donut shop is clear on the other side of the island. Maybe you ought to head over there 'fore you get yourself hurt.”

  Buff didn't move. If he was as worried as I was, he didn't show it. At least, I think he didn't show it. The glare of the sunlight off his head made it kind of hard to see his face.

  “I think it's only fair to warn you that if you try to get resist, I'll be forced to...” he lowered his sunglasses dramatically, “... take you down.”

  I groaned internally. Maybe I really should have taken the pepper spray.

  “Oh really?” Bigfoot said, thumping Buff on the chest with his finger. “Well maybe I'll just show you a-”

  Suddenly there was a swirl of movement and a loud thud, followed by a cloud of dust. As the dust cleared, I could see the two bouncers laying on the ground, stunned.

  Buff stood over them, brushing the dust from his hands. “In the words of General Patton, 'The first man to raise a fist is the man who's run out of ideas,'” Buff said. He stopped for a moment and looked thoughtful. “Or did my mother say that? I always get her and General Patton confused...”

  “How did you do that?” I asked in awe.

  “Jeet Kune Do,” Buff replied, “I learned it from Bruce Lee.”

  “You were trained by Bruce Lee?”