Jake looked up at Flynn.
Flynn looked at his big silver wristwatch.
Tolliver said, “It had one of those gizmos that sends signals to a vessel overhead. Wireless, even — pretty slick. You know slick technology, Oscar. Hell, you've got radar jamming? Anyway, what do you call that kind of gizmo?”
“Acoustic modem,” Flynn said. “It's standard technology.”
“Well then, it occurs to me that this setup might belong to your group. Your Phytoplankton Monitoring Group, if I've got the name right.”
“Right name. Wrong assumption.”
“So you folks take samples from the surface but you don't monitor the conditions underneath?”
“That's right.”
“So if I were to come aboard your vessel I wouldn't be finding an acoustic modem transmitter….receiver? Other end of the phone line?”
“If you come aboard my vessel you'd better come armed with a search warrant.”
“Something to hide, Oscar?”
“Something to guard. My right to privacy.”
“That's your right.” Tolliver shrugged. “So I guess I'll check with the ocean-research types, see if I can find who's monitoring down there.”
“I don't care who you check with. It's not my business. My business is over there.” Flynn pointed toward the algal bloom. “Are you going to keep looking for that fisherman? I need to know because I need to go get my samples and I can’t do that if you dive again.”
“We’re finished for now, Oscar. You go ahead.” A pause, and then Tolliver added, “But make it quick. I'll be scheduling police department divers to come out here for another look.”
“When?”
“Whenever it's convenient.”
“I need to know the time.” Flynn added, “So I can be sure your divers won't interfere with my work.”
Tolliver said, with an edge, “Whenever I decide to send them. This afternoon, or tomorrow. Maybe both days. Another day, if need be. I don't go by your schedule, Oscar. You go by mine. Are we clear?”
Flynn gave a brusque nod.
Jake spoke up. “Speaking of divers, you hear about that diver?”
“Which diver is that?” Tolliver asked.
“Uh, the dude from my sister's cave. The dude who got poisoned.”
“The last I heard — this morning — Mr. Silva was still unconscious.”
“Update.” Jake drew a finger across his throat.
“Aw shit,” Tolliver said. And then, after a moment, “How do you know?”
“I know a nurse. Asked her to keep me updated, since the man was poisoned on Keasling property. I like to keep track of who croaks.”
Walter said, “That's a shame.” He looked up at Flynn. “A shame about Mr. Silva. Wouldn't you say?”
“I didn't know him,” Flynn said. “Why should I care about somebody I never laid eyes on?”
I had. Laid eyes on him as he was hauled aboard the Sea Spray. Laid eyes on him three days ago on the Keasling beach. It was a shame, although not a surprise that he'd died. He'd certainly been horribly sickened. His mouth frothing. Clutching at his stomach. Still wearing that purple welt on his cheek from the jellyfish sting.
CHAPTER 28
I said, “I owe you one.”
Lanny blinked. “One of what?”
“A thank you. I started to get seasick this morning, and then I used the fennel seeds you gave me.”
He said, cautiously, “That’s good.”
He looked up and down the hallway of the Keasling hacienda and bobbed his head, inviting me into his room. When we were both inside he switched on the light and quietly closed the door. And then he reddened. “Is this good? I can close the door?”
“Sure.”
He extended his hand. “Thank you for coming.”
I thought, he'll regret that, and I regretted taking advantage of this gesture of good will, but I shook his hand with the best of intentions.
He said, “Do you like my room?”
“It’s really nice.”
Lanny’s room was a surprise. I had expected some kind of kitschy nautical theme. A faux porthole. A throw rug with a seashell design. A clock in the shape of a seagull. I had expected, I was ashamed to admit, a childish room. Lanny was not a child. Living at home, sure, in the family hacienda — but then so was big sister Sandy. I wondered what her room looked like. A skull and crossbones Keep Out sign hanging on the wall. An aquarium full of piranha.
Lanny's room was tidy and pleasant. There was the same planked flooring as in the rest of the house, scuffed and scarred but clean. A big window with a wide oak sash overlooked the sea, silvery in the starlight. The walls were pale blue and hung with posters. One poster was of the Sea Spray, the kind you can get enlarged from a photo. The other poster was of a bluesy-looking rock band with the banner headline Blue Fall in a Special Appearance at the Otter Rock Cafe! There was a simple oak dresser and matching bedside table. There was a framed photo on the dresser of three kids, two boys and a girl with their arms looped around each other’s shoulders — the Keasling siblings. The little Sea Urchins.
On the bedside table was a digital alarm clock. Beside the clock was another picture frame, the kind of mirror-finish frame you can buy at the drugstore that includes a stock photo. The young woman in this photo had blonde curls and blue eyes and a warm generic smile.
My heart squeezed.
Lanny said, “You should sit here.” He directed me to a simple oak chair by the window. He sat on a dark wood chest at the end of his bed. It was the only piece of furniture in the room that appeared to have a history. It was banded in iron, dinged and scratched. I figured it dated back to earlier Keaslings.
Lanny clasped his hands in his lap. “Now it’s okay to talk.”
An hour ago, when I had phoned Lanny and asked if we could meet, he’d given me a time and said he would wait for me outside the hacienda.
I'd phoned him from the Shoreline Motel where Walter and I had spent the afternoon and early evening doing the analysis on the samples we'd gathered on the morning's dive. We'd made a late dinner of take-out curry, and chewed over what we'd found at the site, what it all meant.
And then we'd talked floats.
And then I had proposed my plan. Walter said, you know this is a long shot? I knew. Then he asked me to be kind.
And then I phoned Lanny.
At the appointed time I drove to the hacienda on the bluff and parked away from the house, as instructed.
Lanny, true to his word, had met me outside. He led me inside through a side door, asking me to walk on ‘cat feet’ and whisper because Sandy was in her office and he didn’t want her to hear us. He’d explained, apologetically, that Sandy didn’t like me. I’d assured him that I already knew that.
We’d had no trouble navigating the cavernous hacienda without being seen.
And now, facing Lanny in the privacy of his room, I found myself tongue-tied. He looked so eager to please. He wore a white collared long-sleeve shirt, black chino pants, and blue boat shoes. He’d dressed up. Be kind, Walter had told me. I wasn’t certain how to do that, how to raise the question I came to ask, kindly. Hey Lanny, did you steal Joao Silva’s red float and hide it in the dunes and if you did, what are you hiding?
Before I could frame the question Lanny asked one of his own. “Where did you get seasick?”
Okay, I thought. That works. I had meant only to thank him for the fennel, to be friendly, but seasick was a workable lead-in. I said, “Walter and I were with Doug Tolliver on his boat. We had some evidence that led us to a site on Cochrane Bank.”