Santos was an unremarkable student, graduating in the middle of his class without earning any special recognition or getting into anything more than normal adolescent trouble. People who knew him at the time report his only memorable trait was his outstanding devotion to his mother and his sister (possibly brought on by the early loss of his father).
In college (Miami Dade Community College) he discovered drugs and was arrested on campus for possession of marijuana (which he was smoking at the time of his arrest). Ejected from college (he would have failed anyway), let off with a warning by the judge, Santos spent the next two years living at home, going from job to job from party to party, graduating from pot to cocaine, barbiturates and Quaaludes.
Finally, confronted by both his sister and his mother, Santos agreed to clean up his act. He began to attend Narcotics Anonymous and looked for steady work. His mother, acting on his behalf, arranged for a job at Joe's, one of the premier restaurants in South Florida. Ironically, they trained him as a bartender.
Making good money for the first time in his life, Santos moved into his own apartment on Miami Beach. (According to his 1987 tax return he declared an income in excess of $38,000 for the year. He probably made much more than that in undeclared tips-all of this income earned in only 7 months, since Joe's traditionally closes their doors from mid-May until mid-October.)
Because of the long vacations each year, he was able to actively pursue his other interests. Santos bought his own sailboat (a 16-foot Hobie catamaran) and sailed and raced it, winning his class in the Miami to Key Largo race three years in a row. He also joined Tucker's Brigade, a group of men who like to dress up in period garb and reenact historical battles, where he learned how to load and shoot replicas of antique, black-powder rifles and pistols.
His interest in reenactments eventually led him to St. Augustine where he became enamored with the big guns at the old Spanish fortress of Castillo de San Marcos. Volunteering to become one of the cannoneers, he spent each summer (from June through August, from 1994 to 1997) in St. Augustine.
Possibly because of the irregular lifestyle his work required, he developed an alcohol problem, entering AA in 1995 and subsequently suffering periodic lapses (the most recent a two-week binge in March of this year). Only his mother's relationship with the owners of Joe's and the tragic disappearance of his sister prevented his dismissal on this last occasion.
He met his current girlfriend, Casey Morton (age 26, a graduate of University of Miami and a staff writer for the business section of the Miami Herald) at an AA meeting in December. Because Morton's an Anglo and a recovering alcoholic, Santos's mother disapproves of the relationship, which has been tumultuous at best.
The disappearance of Santos's sister, Maria, seems to have sobered Santos and drawn Morton and him closer. It also seems to have given his life a focus for the first time. Since his mother called him looking for her daughter, Santos has devoted all of his leisure time to looking for her or, as he loudly says he suspects, her killer. In this pursuit, Morton has been invaluable, both by using the Herald's archives, using her own contacts at the newspaper and her coworkers' contacts with the police to further their investigation.
Santos personally found Maria's car in the parking lot at the Dinner Key docks and has subsequently interviewed every wino and derelict who may have been in the vicinity that night, as well as every apartment owner or hotel guest whose windows overlooked the area.
Two winos, Sam Pratt and Harry Watkins, have told him (and subsequently told the police) that late that night they saw a tall, blond man meet a young woman on the docks and take her away in a wooden speedboat. Watkins described it as a classic, like the one they used in the Fonda movie, On Golden Pond.
(Both men decided, after our operatives interviewed them, that they would be better off leaving town.)
Santos and Morton have visited every marina and dock in South Florida looking for such boats. They've found none whose owners might have been involved with Maria's disappearance.
That is not to say that Santos and Morton have no suspects. Shortly after Maria's disappearance, Santos asked the police to take a close look at Peter DelaSangre. He informed them that his sister had expressed a romantic interest in Mr. DelaSangre and that DelaSangre met the description given by Watkins and Pratt. Adding to that the knowledge (thanks to Miss Morton) that Mr. DelaSangre lived on an island and, therefore, would have to use boats for transportation, Santos insisted he was the most logical suspect.
Due to Mr. DelaSangre's standing in the community (not to mention his political clout), the police refused to target him without any further evidence. Likewise the Herald and all the other media refused to carry any stories about the police's refusal to investigate him. Furthermore, Herald management has assured us that Miss Morton has been cautioned to cease using newspaper assets to help further their quest.
The lack of support has done little to dampen Santos's zeal to bring his sister's abductor to justice. He's been very open in expressing his doubts that the system will do anything to support him. His intent is to administer justice himself.
Toward this end, at a gun show in April, both he and Morton took and passed a concealed weapons course and applied for concealed weapon permits. Records show they purchased a nine millimeter Clock semiautomatic pistol, a two-shot forty-five caliber Remington derringer and a thirty-eight caliber Smith and Wesson snub-nosed revolver.
Sources, who've observed them practicing at Tamiami Gun Shop's indoor target range, report that Santos wears the Clock on an ankle holster on his right leg and the Remington on an ankle holster on his left leg. Miss Morton carries her S amp;W in her purse. Both are passably decent shots.
Peter DelaSangre has become something of a fixation for both of them, Miss Morton gathering information on him from any source she can (unearthing, by the way, DelaSangre's connection with LaMar Associates) and Santos calling LaMar Associates on a daily basis thereafter, seeking an interview with Mr. DelaSangre. Santos also has made attempts to spy on Blood Key, Mr. DelaSangre's island.
After we received complaints that an ultralight seaplane buzzed the island four days in a row, we investigated and found that Santos had paid Tony Ribini, of Tony's Seaplanes on the Rickenbacker Causeway, to overfly the island with him onboard as passenger. Ribini said Santos had expressed disappointment that overhanging trees had prevented him from seeing the entire harbor. Mr. Ribini also agreed (after conversation with our operatives) it would be unwise, should he be asked again, for him to participate in any more such intrusive overflights.
We would caution Mr. DelaSangre that these people represent to him, at minimum, a threat of serious annoyance (including possible legal harassment) and, at worst, a threat of major, possibly deadly, harm. If he continues to insist on meeting with them, he should be advised to take utmost care (up to, and including armed bodyguards) in his dealings with them.
After I finish, I put down the report and pick up the clippings again. It's hard for me to see much danger in Santos's face. I see too much of Maria in him. I shake my head and grin. The man has passion. I respect that. Maria deserves nothing less.
"Why are you smiling?" Elizabeth asks. "The man wants you dead. He may already have tried."
"If he did, he failed," I say, thinking how angry Santos would be if he knew how little I fear him. "Read the report again. This man wants to look me in the eyes before he kills me. I doubt he was on the boat. I hope he wasn't. I want to see how it plays out with him… how he chooses to confront me. But"-I shrug-"if he was the shooter, he'll die. Remember, with one word, I can have him and his girlfriend destroyed any time I want."