Chapter 12

On the Steel Slab

by Janet Shellenberger

 

Egret White sat on the seat next to the shiny aluminum grill at the back of her Catalina 34 sailboat, Margaritaville, surrounded by slick-as-glass turquoise water only occasionally disturbed by a boat wake. 

 

During this late afternoon, the sky was a clear blue, but cumulous clouds were just starting to build like layers of cotton balls in the sky.  Later the humongous cotton balls would turn dark gray at the lower edges and bring rain and lightening somewhere in the near distance. 

 

Jimmy Buffet’s “Fruitcakes” CD was playing while Egret sipped a cool glass of Shiraz.  As she listened, she thought Fruitcakes certainly described some of the county politicians and officials she had worked with over the years as the medical examiner.   For now Egert was content to enjoy the beauty of her surroundings.  Margaritaville was anchored just inside Longboat Pass in a picturesque gunkhole 

 

To the west, about a quarter mile away, was a fishing dock, marina, and beach.   To the north, a city nature park with ospreys in the tree tops and kayak paths among the mangroves at the edge of the water.   In the distance to the south  were several uninhabited islands formed by mangroves.  And about a half mile to the east was the Intracoastal waterway with boats zipping by on their way home.  A couple of dolphins were diving nearby for dinner. 

 

Egert was contemplating how to spend the rest of her life, or at least the next couple of weeks.  Just two months ago (although it seemed like only yesterday) she was surrounded by bright lights, stark white walls, pristine stainless steel tables and dead bodies.  As the medical examiner for the county she was under extreme pressure to provide answers ASAP for any questionable death.  Her 60+ hour work weeks were wearing thin on her marriage.  She saw no end to the pressure or long hours as it seemed as if the number of deaths was escalating.

 

Social life, what social life?  After 25 years of service she was ready to retire at the young age of 52.  However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was the recent scandal involving several county officials. 

 

Joey Smites was the county property appraiser going through his fourth, or maybe it was his fifth divorce.  His soon-to-be ex-wife had kicked him out and he needed cash fast to purchase a home for himself.  Joey owned some “priceless” Florida swamp land.  Several years prior, he had his buddies at the county drain the land by building a retention pond nearby and now Joey marketed it as “lake front” property.  The land was originally appraised for $30,000, and still is, but Joey somehow convinced his cronies at the county to purchase it for $250,000.

 

 Of course the local newspaper, the Clearwater Daily, got hold of this story and had a field day with it.  As a result the county attorney, a female, was fired as the scapegoat.  The county manager, a female, was put on “warning” and later fired.  All the while, Joey maintained that he did nothing wrong and kept his job after only a mild reprimand from a grand jury.  In the process, all the county officials, including the ME, were put through the wringer and tainted as “crooked politicians” by the news media.   Egret had enough and decided it was time to retire.

 

As the sun was setting over the beach, the CD had switched to the next song “Everybody’s Got a Cousin in Miami” and Egret was singing along between sips of wine.  The temperature was a perfect 75 degrees.  It just couldn’t get better than this.   Egret was thinking, this has to be heaven on earth.  The musings and perfect moments were punctuated by the ringing cell phone.   Of course the ring-tone had to be “Fins” by J.B.

 

On the phone was Ducky.  Egret had left her ME job to a close friend and colleague, Ducky.  Ducky was very capable of the job, but had promised to consult with Egret knowing she would miss the work and the department would miss her.  Egret was certainly not a “fruitcake” like many of the county officials.  “Ducky, what a surprise to hear from you already.  What is going on?”

 

“Egret, things are hopping here.  We just had a DB (dead body) brought in this morning for an autopsy.  Her name is Flora Belcher and she was found in the water at the Sloop Harbor Municipal marina.  And less than 30 minutes later, a second DB was carted in.  A  Lucas Bilge, also found at the Sloop Harbor Marina inside his boat, The Little Minnow, with a head gash and a rope tied around his wrists and ankles.  What is going on at that marina?”

 

Ducky paused.  Egret knew he was reading the police report. “Hey this report mentions that Flora belonged to something called the Windlasses.  Seems to me that at one time you mentioned that you were a member of the Windlasses.  Anyway, I’m looking for some help here.  Any way you can come back for a couple of days to work with me on these autopsies?”

 

Boy, she had mixed emotions.  Egret was just beginning to relax and start her long planned sailing journey after 2 months into retirement.  She loved working with Ducky and the team, but really wanted to move on with her life and not get involved. 

 

But, a Windlass?  How could she turn her back on the group the helped her learn to sail 14 years ago.  What a fascinating group of gals.  A Windlass, hard to believe.  How could she say NO.

 

 “All right Ducky, let me spend the night here and I’ll sail back tomorrow.  I should get to the ME office tomorrow afternoon.  I’ll see you then.  In the meantime, don’t damage any of the evidence.  We’ll need all the help we can get.”

 

The next afternoon, Egret bounced into the ME autopsy room as she thought, what a change!  I went from the perfect life on calm turquoise water to a white box of a room with the most unflattering lighting, hard slabs of stainless steel, and dead bodies.  But, now that I’m here, it’s back to work. 

 

As she was bending over a male’s body, she noticed that the wrists and ankles were tied using a bowline knot.  Hmmm, now who knows how to tie one of those?

 

 And, as she inspected the gash on the male’s head, what was that orange speck?  A sliver of bright orange plastic?  Let’s see, the toe tag shows his name as Lucas. 

 

Then she took a look at the female body.  Flora was the name on this tag.  As she inspected the gash on Flora’s head, she saw another sliver of bright orange.  But what really caught her attention were the skin and fibers under Flora’s fingernails. 

 

Hmmm, this doesn't look like an accident to me.  There appears to have been quite a struggle here.  If not a struggle, she tried to grab on to someone before she fell into the water.  Let me take a closer look.  “Hey Ducky, did you get a tox screen on these two yet?  What does the report show?”