Hurricane Bay (12 page)

Dane stared from the fish on the ground to Latham, who took a step backward. “Oh, yeah, that's right, you're such a big man now. They taught you how to kill in the military, so what the hell, I just ought to be afraid and sit here and take everything you're dishing out on me,” Latham said. He was still shaking, and still keeping a distance from Dane. “But you remember this, Mr. Tough Guy. A bullet goes through any man. You come on my property again and I'll put a bullet through your head.” Latham backed up again.

“You ass!” Dane said. “I don't know what the hell you're talking about.”

“The fish. The fucking fish! You came and dumped these right in front of the doorway.”

“The hell I did!” Dane said.

“Who else?” Latham charged back. By then Larry had come to stand on one side of Dane and Nate on the other.

“I don't know who else. God knows, Latham, you'd never win a popularity contest around here,” Dane told him.

Latham pointed a finger. At first Kelsey thought he was pointing at Dane, then realized he was pointing past Dane, at her.

“You! You little trouble-maker. You probably did this. Or you put the half-breed up to it. You…you'll get yours!” He was so angry, he was foaming at the mouth like a dog. Spitting as he spoke.

But just the same, he kept his distance.

Dane seemed to snap, taking a step forward. “You're as crazy as a loon, Latham. None of us dumped fish at your door. And if you threaten me or Kelsey again—”

Dane didn't finish speaking, because Latham broke in, shouting, “You heard him! You heard him. He's the one threatening
me.
You stay away from me. Stay away from me, and stay off my property, all of you!”

With that, he turned and ran.

“Whew!” Larry said.

“We're never going to be able to eat our barbecue with this stench in the yard,” Cindy moaned. “What in God's name was all that about?”

“We'll eat in the house,” Dane said. “Why don't you guys go get the food and bring it in? I'll get the fish picked up.”

“Man, this is disgusting,” Larry said.

“Get in the house. I'll get some bags and get it out of here before it permeates my whole place.”

“I think he's gone crazy,” Cindy said as they followed Dane. “Andy Latham never seemed really sane. Now I think he really has gone crazy.”

As Dane went into the house, Kelsey started collecting the plates, plastic ware and cups she had been setting out on the porch tables.

“Cindy, hold that plate so that I can heap this food on it,” Larry said. “Hey, who do you think really dumped these dead fish in his yard?”

Dane had already been in and out of the kitchen. He had two black plastic garbage bags in his hands and a roll of paper towels. “Who the hell knows?” he muttered. “Anyone could have done it.” He walked away, followed by Nate. Cindy coughed and gagged. “I can't stand this. I've got to get into the house.”

“We can't use the dining room,” Larry said. “Dane's got it set up as an office.”

“Head to the kitchen,” Cindy said, leading the way.

A few minutes later Dane came in, followed by Nate and Jorge Marti.

“Jorge,” Larry said, lifting his beer to greet the newcomer.

“Good to see you, Larry,” Jorge said, walking over to shake Larry's hand.

“You made it,” Cindy said with pleasure, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

“Yeah, I got here just in time to be cleanup crew.” He wrinkled his nose and lifted his hands. “I hear old man Latham paid a visit and brought food. Maybe he thought he was invited and that it was supposed to be a potluck occasion. Hey, gorgeous,” he said, stopping by Kelsey. He kissed her cheek, as well. She kissed his back.

“That was one bad smell out there. How weird. Latham just came by and dumped a pile of rotting fish?”

“He thinks Dane dumped them on his property,” Kelsey told him.

“Why would he think that?”

“Because I went out there last night to ask if he'd seen Sheila, and Dane followed me out at Cindy's insistence,” Kelsey explained.

“Apparently he's crazy as a loon,” Jorge said, shrugging. “I've heard the guy isn't making the catches he used to get anymore.”

“Did you wash your hands?” Cindy demanded.

“With antibacterial soap,” Dane said, walking into the kitchen. “We're safe, Cindy.” He smiled at her, amused. “I swear it.”

“He made us all scrub,” Nate assured her, coming in behind Dane.

“Well, God knows what might be on those disgusting little fish corpses,” Cindy said, making a face.

Nate went for a beer. “It was a real waste of good fresh fish,” he said.

“The man is crazy, and that's all there is to it,” Cindy said. “So, Jorge, how's the charter business going? The snowbirds are mostly gone now, with summer coming in full blast.”

“Business is good,” Jorge said, sitting on a bar stool and accepting a beer from Cindy and a plate of food from Larry. He lifted his drink to Larry. “Thanks to you Miami businessmen trying to shake the ties and white collars during the weekends. Lobster season is coming, too. I guess Latham hadn't heard from Sheila and none of you has, either?”

“No sign of Sheila,” Larry agreed.

Jorge looked at Kelsey and smiled. “She'll show up.”

“Sure,” Kelsey said. She realized Dane was watching her. “She will show up, right, Dane?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm positive she will. Eventually,” he said quietly.

Kelsey didn't like the way he said it. Not flippantly. And not with reassurance. He spoke with somber certainty. He knew something.

And it had to do with the murders of the two strippers, Kelsey thought. Putting it all together scared her to death, but she knew he wasn't going to share whatever it was that he knew with her. Whatever he was onto…

She had a computer, too.

 

Dane thanked God for the placement of his property and house. The stench had been enough to choke a dung beetle, but with the breezes going through, it didn't last long. In fact, with the fish double-tied in trash bags and set back for disposal, the afternoon and evening became so nice that they were able to head outside after they had eaten. He set up the volleyball net, and they played a few games. They switched teammates and sides, but somehow, Kelsey always wound up on the other side of the net from him.

The exertion of playing sent them all into the water, but again, though there was a lot of dunking and fooling around, Kelsey kept her distance. Later, they all rinsed the saltwater off with the hose he had rigged up as a shower by the porch, then dried off and ate dessert—packaged brownies—outside. The brownies were so-so. The coffee Kelsey ground and brewed was great. He hadn't figured out yet if she was simply keeping her distance from him because she was never going to forgive him for the night that followed Joe's funeral, or if she was actually afraid of him. He damned himself for not filing away his downloads before leaving the house that morning, but then, he hadn't expected company.

Now she knew he was interested in the murders. All the better, once the reason for his interest was known.

Dane finished his coffee and lit a cigarette. Cindy and Jorge were sitting on the porch swing, talking about gym equipment. Larry had begun passionately explaining the value of top-notch advertising to Nate.

Kelsey had headed out on the dock and was sitting there with her cup of coffee, watching the sun begin to set.

He rose, determined to join her. He knew that she heard him coming over the wooden decking, but she didn't look up. At first he thought that she was staring at his boats, both of which she had seen before, the snappy little Donzi for zipping around on quick trips, and his larger boat, the thirty-eight-foot Chris-Craft. The Chris-Craft was probably the one material object that meant a lot to him. He and his father had chosen the boat, refurbished it together, and spent countless hours on her out at sea. She could sleep six but still offered an enormous captain's cabin along with private guest quarters, a huge galley and salon, and large deck spaces. She was an old girl now, built in the early eighties, but he had tended her lovingly over the years.

But Kelsey wasn't staring at his boats. She was simply looking down at the wood of the deck. She wasn't seeing anything at all.

Dane sat next to her on the dock, where she dangled her legs over the edge. The wary look in her eyes as he joined her was disturbing.

“Hey, it
is
my dock.”

She nodded. “You're right. It
is
your dock.” She hesitated for a moment, staring at the water. “Your dock. I was actually just wishing that there was still something here, in the Keys, that was mine. It's strange, not having a place here. You know, the house doesn't even exist anymore.”

“I know. So…how are your folks?” he asked.

“Good, thanks. Doing really well. You knew that they moved to Orlando?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I knew.”

“I guess you weren't very far from them when you were up in St. Augustine.”

“Probably not. Just a few hours.”

“You never saw them?”

He shook his head. “I was always afraid that I would just be…well, a reminder of Joe.”

“They'd probably really like to see you.”

“I don't know. It was hard on them.”

“It was hard on everyone.”

“Joe was their son. And your brother.”

“Your best friend.”

She was actually looking at him again, and the mistrust seemed to have faded from her eyes for a moment. He found himself looking ahead at the dazzle of the sun on the water, rather than at her.

“Actually I thought that it was harder on you than anyone else.” He paused for just a moment. “Do you remember feeling that—”

“I don't want to remember,” she said. There was an edge to her voice. He knew what she didn't want to remember.

“Don't go getting your hackles up,” he said. “I'm talking about the break you had with your parents. Joe worried about it.”

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks growing bright. “You mean…the way I thought they preferred their son?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. He was treading on personal ground. She would either get furious and walk away, or else they would have a chance to bridge the gap that lay between them.

She kicked her feet in the water like a kid, watching the waves she made. “I felt, after Joe died, that I didn't quite come up to what he had been in their eyes. And that my folks really had loved him more, and that I wasn't anywhere near as important.” There was a curious, wistful expression on her face. Kelsey was beautiful. Her hair had dried in the breeze and was wafting around the perfectly molded contours of her face. Her eyes reflected the water. She was still in shorts and a bathing suit top. Her throat was long and smooth, and her breasts rose high and tight against the bikini bra. He had taken a seat close enough that their skin nearly touched. Something was stirring within him.

So much time yawned between them. She'd been his best friend's kid sister, so the instinct to protect and defend had always been there. The instinct to touch her, to have her, had only pushed to the surface once. Now both waged war within him. She brought out something protective in him. He realized, as he had on that long-ago night, that she also brought out a hell of a lot more.

Odd that something so brief could be remembered so long. So clearly.

He tamped a lid on the urge to reach out and touch her.

He lifted a hand. “Your dad was gung-ho military. Joe followed in his footsteps. Naturally he was interested in every move Joe made.”

She laughed. “You're being kind. To my father, the sun rose and set on Joe. And I still remember feeling totally inadequate because I didn't seem to be able to do anything to make my brother's loss any easier for my parents. For so many reasons, I was in such sorry shape then, and I did such sorry things—”

She broke off. He could feel the warmth emanating from her.

He was sure that he had been one of those “sorry things.”

He decided to ignore that for the moment.

“They always loved you equally, you know. Like I said, Joe just had a lot in common with your dad.”

She smiled, and the curve of her lips was both rueful and nostalgic. “Hey, it's okay, time has gone by, and I don't need any assurance. Actually the past is one of the reasons things are so good between us now. Dad called me a couple of years ago and asked me to come up and spend some time with them. I did. We sat together one night, and he apologized to me, told me that he probably had set more store in Joe, and that it had been shameful of him not to realize that he had shown so much favoritism. We both cried, drank too much, talked about Joe all night, and fixed everything that might have been wrong. I see my folks often now. It's only a four, four and half hour drive up to their new place. They're not on the water. They have a couple of acres in an area zoned for horses. Dad and Mom have started riding together, and they're thinking about buying a couple of horses of their own.”