Gomez shrugged. “Probably got in a fight with one of his amigos. It’s something we have no control over. These men are highly competitive in the field. Each wants to be the next tigre. Sometimes they drink too much. Go crazy and start fighting.”
“I’m going to do three things—”
Davis interrupted, “Whatcha gonna do, ex-cop? Who you gonna call?”
“I’m calling an ambulance for that man. I’m running a DNA check on the toothpick you threw at my face yesterday. And I’m going to prove that one or both of you killed Angela.”
Silas Davis slowly removed the toothpick from one side of his mouth, looking at it like he was holding a diseased object.
Turning to walk to my car, I saw the second bus leave, filled with faces staring at the dawn. I heard Gomez open his cell phone. He spoke quickly in Spanish. The only words I could make out were something that sounded like ‘Santa Ana.’
THIRTY-THREE
The cell phone seemed to ring for eternity. It was as if an ambulance in the distance never passed. The phone stopped ringing and I opened my eyes, sunlight pouring in Jupiter’s salon like a roving spotlight in sync with the boat’s rise and fall of gentle wakes kicked up by boat traffic. I had a headache, but I felt better than when I’d arrived.
Earlier that morning, a little after nine, I’d made it back to Jupiter, poured myself a shot of brandy for breakfast, peeled off the wet clothes, and stretched out on the sofa in the salon. If I’d had dreams, I didn’t remember them. And I didn’t want to. I rubbed my temples and looked at my watch. It was almost four in the afternoon.
I stood and picked up the phone from the table where I’d left it next to the bottle of brandy. Checking the caller ID, I didn’t recognize the number. I played the messages back on speakerphone while I stepped into the galley and poured a glass of orange juice.
The first message was from Leslie Moore. “Sean, are you okay? Please call me as soon as you get this message.” The next two messages were from Leslie, too, essentially saying the same thing, but each time with more of an edge in her voice. It would have to wait. I needed a hot shower to cleanse dried sweat, dirt and human misery out of my pores.
A half hour later I checked the pencil camera between the books in the master salon. It was working flawlessly, the images beamed to my laptop on Dave’s boat. I would give Nick and Dave a lesson in video editing, should I need their help.
I fixed a turkey and hot mustard sandwich and took it topside. There were a few hours before sunset, and the first bottom fishing boat in the fleet churned slowly back into the marina. From the fly bridge, I could see tourists’ faces in various shades of sunburn.
I wanted to phone my neighbor to check on Max. I’d tell him I’d be home, but at that moment, I didn’t know for sure.
“Hey, you don’t invite me over for a beer. That’s a violation of marina manners,” I turned around to see Nick standing next to Jupiter’s cockpit with a beer in each fist. “So, I say to myself…self, you go on over to Sean’s boat and show him what neighborhood watch means.”
“Come on up.”
Nick grinned and climbed the steps, making sure he didn’t spill a drop of beer. He handed me a Corona and sat at the console. “Salute!” he said. After a long swallow, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sean, how long you been on your boat?”
“Just got out of bed. Slept for the last seven hours.”
“Sounds like you got some kinda jetlag. You been out of the country?”
“You could say that.”
“Better not be Greece!”
“No, it wasn’t the ancient cradle of democracy. More like the dungeons.”
“Yeah, where?”
“Not far from here. Felt like I’d spent a year in a third-world country. And I was there for just two days.” I told Nick the story while he sipped his beer and looked at me, shaking his head occasionally in disbelief.
“Where’s the girl’s shoe?”
“I gave it to Kim and she hid it in the tiki bar. Jupiter’s not safe anymore.”
“You gonna take the shoe to the police?”
“I have to deliver it to the right police.”
“Yeah, man. I haven’t seen onion head around.”
“That’s because he’s too busy rubbing shoulders with his wealthy constituents.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s on the take. Thinks he’s one of them. They use him like toilet paper.”
“That’s no good. What will happen if—”
My phone rang, cutting Nick off. He looked at the phone with as much suspicion as I felt. Got to love caller ID. It was Leslie. “Hi there,” I said.
“Where are you?”
“On the boat.”
“What happened in your investigation? Uncover anything?”
“I need some time to explain things to you. I don’t want to do it over the phone. I have some evidence for you to run tests on, and the sooner, the better.”
“Whatever you have, hide it.”
“Why?”
“Slater’s supposed to announce his bid for the sheriff’s job Wednesday. He’s looking for a splash. And you’re it. He’s on his way to find you. Slater has a search warrant. Sean, he’s coming to arrest you.”
“What’s Slater’s e-mail address?”
“Why?”
“He’s got mail and he doesn’t know it’s coming from me.”
I jotted his address down, said goodbye to Leslie, and turned to Nick. “I’m going to give you a quick lesson in editing video. We’ll go to Dave’s boat, to my laptop, I’ll give you both a lesson.”
“Cool, man.” His thick mustache lifted with his wide grin.
THIRTY-FOUR
It took me less than an hour to teach Dave and Nick how to edit a short scene out of video, compress it and email the video. After the lesson, Dave stayed on Gibraltar, making sure the wireless signal remained intact, while Nick and I returned to Jupiter’s fly bridge to await Slater.
From the bridge, I could see Slater before he saw me. He pulled into the parking lot in an unmarked Ford, followed by a county sheriff’s car. Slater and two deputies. The return of the posse, but this time he had my walking papers. Maybe I’d record his.
Nick leaned closer to me from his chair, the afternoon light off the water dancing in his dark eyes. “You want me to stay?”
“Yeah, just follow my lead. It may sound a little crazy but play along. Okay?”
“No problem, man, but it’d by my pleasure to toss onion head in the ocean. Let the sharks eat him as a cop salad.” Nick laughed so hard I was sure Slater could hear it.
Slater got about halfway down the dock before he spotted us. He stopped and talked with the deputies. All three looked our way.
Watching them come closer, I was glad I hadn’t slept in the master bed. I’d left it exactly how Slater did, with one exception. I removed the long, dark hair that he’d so carefully placed near the pillow. And now, I would let him do this thing and capture whatever reaction he had through the camera I knew he would not find.
At the stern, he issued orders to the deputies. “O’Brien,” Slater barked, like he was a drill sergeant and I was at his command.
“Good afternoon, Detective Slater.”
“Come down, O’Brien. I have a search warrant. Who’s with you?”
“This is my neighbor, Nick Cronus.”
“Tell him to vacant the premises.”
“Why don’t you tell him? I haven’t had my quota of rude pills this morning to match you.” I climbed down to the cockpit with Nick right behind me.