“How can you say that? Innocent people are arrested, tried, and convicted all the time. Wrongfully convicted people spend decades in prison, all because of shoddy police work and overzealous prosecutors. I can’t spend decades trying to get you off death row.” I couldn’t believe my sister was taking this so nonchalantly.
She waved me away. “Listen, you’d better get to that gator. I can handle things from here. It’s not as though my arrest is imminent. Alex was actually pretty kind about everything and said he was looking into several leads. He admitted that a lot of people probably wanted Gene dead and that I’m not the only suspect.”
I allowed my head to flop back and made a strangled noise. “Vera, we need to be proactive.”
“Take care of the gator. You can’t neglect your business. And after all”—she finally cracked a genuine grin—“you are the only trapper in town now.”
With a sigh, I went into the back room. Alex’s spicy, masculine aftershave scent hung in the air as I changed out of my cute dress and into cargo pants, boots, and a long-sleeved white T-shirt with the Gator Queen logo on the front. Vera had ordered several shirts, hats, and even stickers printed with my logo, which she’d designed herself.
While lacing up the boots, my mind went to Alex. Thank goodness he’d been gentle while questioning Vera. I hated to think of her being mistreated in any way. This whole situation with her gun and Gene’s murder was deeply disturbing to me, and I didn’t share her optimism that everything would automatically work out.
Perhaps I needed to have a conversation with Alex in private so I could glean more information. That way, I could push my sister into hiring a lawyer if needed.
I made up my mind to call him after assessing the gator situation, then said a quick goodbye to Vera. She’d put some tunes on the wireless speaker and was humming along to a Lana Del Rey song, probably dreaming of Tyler sweeping her off her feet. She seemed to be in denial about the gravity of her situation.
“Call me if anything comes up, OK? You promise?” I demanded, as I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “And go get yourself a new cell.”
“Stop worrying,” she called out.
It didn’t take me long to reach the country club, which was about a mile from Main Street.
I asked at the golf clubhouse for Amos, and he bustled out. As I remembered, he still had the intense, burnt-orange skin of a man who’d been in the Florida sun for decades, and snow-white hair. We gave each other a quick hug.
“Sorry it took me so long to get here,” I said.
“It’s OK. The gator hasn’t moved. Some of our guests think it’s a statue, it’s been so still. I’ve had to tell them to steer clear. C’mon. He’s still on the bank of the pond near the seventh hole.”
We climbed into a golf cart and whizzed down an asphalt path.
“How ’bout that situation with Gene Robinson? You hear about that? It’s all anyone in town’s talking about,” Amos said, probably in an attempt to make small talk.
“Yeah, pretty wild,” I replied, not wanting to get into how I’d found the body or how my sister’s pistol was the murder weapon. “Have you heard any gossip?”
Amos slowed the cart to a stop. “I have. But, hey, look. There he is. Isn’t he a monster? I swear to God he gets bigger by the day. I wonder what he’s eating out there.”
He pointed toward the bank of the pond. My gaze followed his finger and I gasped aloud.
It was the biggest damn gator I’d ever seen.
Chapter Seven
Isat in the golf cart, frozen in shock, for a solid minute. My hand went to my sunglasses and I slid them to the top of my head so I could get a clearer look at the beast. Yep. It was enormous.
“Dang,” I whispered. I was in awe of its size.
Amos shook his head. “One of our guests from Michigan thought it was a dinosaur. The staff have named it Chubbs.”
“Chubbs certainly looks like a dinosaur. I’d say it’s about fifteen feet, maybe more. Bigger than the one my dad caught here a few years ago.” I leaned forward, studying the behemoth gator. Its dingy grayish-black body contrasted with the vibrant green grass. It looked like it was sleeping, but it was difficult to tell.
Swallowing hard, I tried to imagine trapping it, and went through the mechanics in my mind. I’d have to get a forklift and a bigger truck to haul it away. This was no baby gator in a pool.
On the plus side, my uncle would be thrilled to accept such an enormous alligator into his sanctuary. It would be a tourist draw, that’s for sure.
Amos gripped the cart’s little steering wheel. “What do you think we can do? It comes out every morning and suns itself on the bank. Scares the heck out of the guests. Around noon it saunters back into the water. How’d it get so big, anyway?”
“Here’s an interesting fact. Gators never stop growing. So, the bigger they are, the older they are. This one’s probably up there in years. Has Chubbs threatened anyone? God, I hope no one’s been an idiot and fed it.”
Amos shook his head. “Nope. The one time a golf cart drove near, it scurried away. The people in that cart somehow didn’t see it until they were about three feet away. They came back to the clubhouse looking like they’d just had a brush with death.”