Leslie finished the last of the vodka in her glass, closing her eyes as she swallowed. “Where does this take us?”
“It takes me back four years to a nightmare I didn’t solve then. Now it’s a lot nastier. We’ll work with Ron and Miami PD. We’ll find him.”
“You don’t sound like you even believe what you’re saying. What’s changed, Sean? The perp left a trail then. He went away, and now he’s leaving a trail today.”
“He never went away.”
“What?”
“I think he simply changed playing fields.”
“Why? He got away with it down there, why change?”
“Less chance of detection. Lots of prey. Maybe the stakes have changed. He simply stalks and kills when he feels the urge. Now, though, he’s getting sloppy, reckless, or, as Dave said, bold. He’s leaving his vics wherever he drops them, like trash on the side of the road. Like he’s saying, ‘Come get me if you can.’ ”
“Are you telling me the deaths we know about might be the tip of the iceberg?”
“Beginning to look that way. If he’s responsible for the victim with her organs removed, we have a man who is playing the ultimate game of control.”
“What do you mean?” Leslie looked at her empty glass.
“He may have gone on to something more sinister, more powerful, than resuscitating his rape victims just to kill them. What if he’s deciding who he’ll take a heart from to keep someone else alive through black market organ sales? There is a lot of money helping him make the decisions, but it’s the ultimate deity complex. Who’ll live, and who’ll be sacrificed.”
“That makes me shudder. I’m still convinced that Slater is somehow mixed up in some of this. I know he’s involved in the murder of the strip club owner. I couldn’t locate Robin Eastman, the dancer in Tampa. The Nigh Noon Club says she showed up for work one night and never came back.”
“I caught the local news. Saw you and Slater for a few seconds in a wide shot at the crime scene. I could tell by the body language that you weren’t in agreement.”
“I guess I kinda flipped. It was after the body was tagged and bagged. Slater said he hoped the organs didn’t go to waste’ as he put it. Said maybe the heart would be keeping a CEO alive somewhere. I turned on him. No one else was directly by us and I told him, ‘Then why stop with trafficked women, why not move on to strippers?’ At that point, he knew that I knew. He just grinned. Under his breath, he had the gall, the sanctimonious balls, to say that most strippers were so full of drugs their internal body parts weren’t worth anything. I came close to slapping him across his arrogant face.”
“So now he knows you’ve made him.”
“No doubt.”
“Leslie, now’s the time to go to the sheriff with this.”
“ I need definitive proof, not supposition. I found the Robin Eastman’s mother. Name’s Irena Cliff. She lives in a trailer park outside of Tampa in Ybor City. She didn’t want to say much on the phone. I’m driving over there. She did tell me her daughter had worked for a strip club in Miami and was scared to death of her former boss. She didn’t say why, only that this man is some kind of power freak and Robin thought he might try to kill her.”
“Did she give you the name of the Miami club?”
“Not yet.”
Thunder rumbled out in the Atlantic. I stood and closed the salon door. Dark clouds tossed and turned in an acrobatic chase across the sky. The moonlight faded as if wet rag had been tossed over a candle.
I turned back toward Leslie. “Rain’s coming.”
“Can I stay here? I don’t want to go home right now. I know it sounds silly, but I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.”
She stepped toward me, touching my chest with her hands, her eyes seeking something I didn’t know if I could give. “Do you mind?” she whispered.
“Not at all. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Okay, just hold me a second, Sean.”
She felt small in my arms. Her head rested on my chest, and I held her for a long moment in silence. Jupiter swayed a little as the wind picked up and thunder rolled.
Leslie looked out the salon window and watched the lightning in the distance. “I’d like a tiny bit more vodka. I usually don’t react this way to a crime scene. This one was different, and with the stuff I’m finding out about Mitchell Slater, I guess I’m pretty stressed. I just need something to help me sleep.”
I made fresh drinks. There was a loud clap of thunder, then the tap of rain against Jupiter’s exterior. Leslie smiled. “I’ve never been on a boat in the rain. It’s kind of like a barn, the sound of the rain on the tin roof.”
“Maybe it’ll help you sleep.”
She was hesitant a few seconds. “Tonight, I need to sleep alone. Just knowing you’re here, on the boat, will help. I’ll sleep on the sofa?”
“The bed in the main cabin is more comfortable. Please, take it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Good night, Sean.” She took her drink and disappeared into the main cabin.
Through the starboard window, I watched the lights of a shrimp boat tied across the marina. I got a spare pillow and blanket and stretched out on the salon sofa. The rain started to beat down with the deafening roar of a waterfall. A burst of thunder and lightning shattered in the heavens somewhere above Jupiter.
In my dreams I saw one of the young victims of Bagman. She had been a prostitute. Too young, nineteen. Auburn hair, soft features, and porcelain skin. Lying on her back with her head covered in a clear plastic bag, rain splattering against the plastic, her eyes open and locked on the dark sky. I wanted to close her eyes but the face floated away like a ghost ship on the horizon, a ship that carried the dead.
When I awoke the storm was gone. I looked over to the glowing red numbers on the clock radio near the bar just as the time changed from 4:47 to 4:48. A cloud passed, and the moonlight spilled through the salon windows. It was a pale shade of white, a candle flame slow dancing in a room of dead calm.
I got up and quietly went down the steps to check on Leslie. The cabin door was open, the room aglow with moonlight. The earlier stress in her face was gone, replaced by calm serenity. Her breathing soft and steady. A cloud enveloped the moon. The light in the cabin faded, and darkness pulled a blanket over Leslie.
I stepped out on the cockpit and climbed the steps to the bridge. The hour before dawn was cool and clean after the rain. I could smell the scent of the ocean in the air and hear the soft cadence of the waves in the distance breaking on the shore at high tide. I thought about Sherri and Max and the goodness found in the world, in the simple things. Then I thought about the mask of hate hiding the faces of bad men, about the indifference in their dull eyes and the wickedness permeating their souls.
I suddenly felt very alone, like my boat was floating in a vast sea without an anchor and a rudder to guide it, and I didn’t how to change the course.
FIFTY-ONE
I awoke on the bridge to the sound of laughing gulls flying by me and the noise of a charter boat leaving. The sun looked as if it had been up at least an hour. I stood from the captain’s chair on legs that felt like I’d gone twelve rounds in the ring. My left leg was numb and tingling, the blood beginning to circulate through a cramped muscle. My joints stiff as spring flowers caught in a late snow fall.
I managed to climb down the steps to the cockpit without falling. Stepping inside the salon, I saw a note left on the couch next to my pillow. Sean, had to run. Needed to get in early before Slater arrives. Call you later! You looked so sweet sleeping up top, didn’t have the heart to wake you — Leslie.