Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW

dripped from the black hair on his head.
    Seeing me, he laughed, " Ooops ," and yanked the door closed.
    I tossed a towel over the top of the shower door. "Turn that water off, get dry and dressed, and come out. You've got some explaining to do!"
    I marched self-righteously into the kitchen and removed a wine bottle from Melanie's wine fridge. I popped the cork and filled a large glass.
    I was furious. First David Boleyn, then Mickey Ballantine. Some men! What was he doing here? How had he gotten in? Melanie couldn't know that he was here or she wouldn't have sent me to collect Spunky. She knew how I felt about Mickey Ballantine. But at some point she must have given him a key. Oh, Melanie, you do enjoy courting danger.

    "She is already in enough trouble without you putting her at risk!" I declared when Mickey made an appearance in the living room. He was wearing a dark suit, dark shirt opened at the throat. He dropped a duffel bag on the carpeting with a soft thud.
    "It's not what you think, Ashley," he countered.
    "How do you know what I think?" I demanded, standing up to confront him. "I think you're mooching off her. You're running from the law and you're sneaking in here and laying low when you get the chance and taking advantage of her generosity. In case you haven't heard, she's been charged with murder, and if the police find out she's hiding you, things will go even harder for her."
    "Murder!" Mickey said contemptuously. "And what's that all about? Them cops don't know nothing . Melanie wouldn't waste a bullet on a lightweight like Fielding." He grinned. "She might blow a hole in a guy like me, but Fielding? Forget it."
    It was clear that Mickey did not know that Melanie had been stalking Joey Fielding. That she had been obsessed with him. And that she had been having an affair with Joey at the same time she'd been involved with Mickey. If he had known, Mickey Ballantine would be number one on my list of suspects who might have killed Joey. And I did not want him to know. There was no telling what a loose cannon like Mickey would do if he found out he'd been double crossed.
    "How do you know I haven't called the cops on you?" I said. "How do you know they aren't on their way here right now?"
    He laughed tauntingly. "Because, Ashley, you're a nice little girl. You'd never do that. Besides you owe me."
    There was that phrase again. Little girl. What was it with some men? Men were men, but women were not women, but girls. Little girls.
    Still I had steered him off the subject of Joey Fielding.
    "Okay, Ashley, let me explain how it is. Melanie and me, we don't have a romantic thing going for us anymore. But we're friends. And Melanie, when she's your friend, she's loyal."
    That was true. If Melanie was your friend, she'd do anything for you.
    "So she lets me crash here now and then. My nightclub has been closed by the police. The owner has 'For Lease' signs plastered all over it. So I have to stay on the move. Can't settle in one place for too long. Melanie lets me spend a few hours here when I don't have no place else to go. I keep a few things here. I come in when she's not at home, when it's quiet around the neighborhood, take a nap. Grab a sandwich. Shower, change. Then I'm on my way again."
    I shook my head. "Mickey, why don't you just leave town? Go back to Atlantic City? You've got family there. Friends. Wouldn't it be easier to elude that warrant on your own turf?"
    "Can't leave right now, Ashley. I've got a deal going here. Somebody owes me a lot of money. When I collect, I'm out of here."
    "And you're out of here right now," I said and stretched out my palm. "The key. Now."
    He dug into a pocket and produced a key, dropped it in my palm. Then he reached down, picked up the duffel bag, and walked past me. At the sliding glass door, he turned, "So long, Ashley."
    He unlatched the door, slid it open, and stepped out into the darkness.
    I moved to the door and looked for him. I almost didn't see him. A faint shadow moved down the lawn to the boat dock. So that was why I hadn't seen a car in the driveway or parked in the street near the house. Mickey was living on a boat, a small boat.
    Distantly, I heard the motor start, then saw a dark shape sail out into the sound. And Mickey Ballantine was gone. I hoped he would not enter our lives again.

12

    I locked the glass door and drew the curtains. I dropped the key in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. Then I poured myself another glass of wine, searched