Hurricane Bay (14 page)

 

“Kelsey!” Larry yelled.

He said her name with barely enough time to prevent her from bringing the heavy pewter candlestick down on his head.

“Larry!”

The room was suddenly flooded with light. She and Larry were caught in a bizarre embrace. Nate and Cindy were standing in the doorway.

“I could have killed you!” Kelsey said furiously. “What were you doing, sneaking around in here?”

“Me? We came home and heard someone creeping around the house, and there were no lights and no sign of you,” Larry protested.

Shaking, Kelsey dropped the candlestick. Larry jumped away, watching it fall.

“We really thought someone had broken in,” Cindy said. “Kelsey, you didn't have any lights on. I whispered your name, but I guess you didn't hear me.”

“Why didn't you just call my name loudly?” Kelsey asked.

“We couldn't call your name loudly if there was a thief or a…or a thief,” Nate said lamely.

Kelsey exhaled a long breath. “I thought I heard someone sneaking around. And I heard a thumping sound out back.”

“There's a mango tree out there. The fruit was probably falling,” Cindy said impatiently.

“Let's take a walk out back and look around anyway,” Larry said.

He walked past Kelsey. They all followed. The whole thing had been silly, she thought, with her sneaking around in the darkness and thinking someone was about to attack her, and the three of them certain that
she
was the intruder. And still, when they walked out back, they were all unnerved.

Larry laughed suddenly. “Nothing out here but a pool.”

“Grass and trees,” Cindy said, sounding almost giddy with relief.

Kelsey turned around, wanting to feel more relieved than she did. “Well, I have to admit, I'm glad you're all back.”

“It's getting late,” Nate murmured. He looked at Kelsey. “Maybe I'll bunk out on the sofa.”

She was about to tell him that wasn't necessary, since Larry was staying in the guest room, but then Cindy chimed in again. “You don't need to sleep on the sofa here when there's an extra bedroom in my half of the place. If any of us gets the heebie-jeebies in the middle of the night, we can just bang on the walls.”

“Doesn't sound like such a bad idea,” Larry said.

“Okay, then, I'm off to bed,” Cindy said. She gave Kelsey a hug and started back into the house. They all turned and followed her.

“Wait,” Larry said, checking the glass doors to the back and assuring himself that the rear of the house was completely secured. He gave a satisfied nod to Kelsey. “I'll lock the front once the crew is out.”

“Great. See everyone in the morning,” Kelsey said.

She closed the door to her room once they were all out but found herself standing still, listening intently until she had heard Larry lock and bolt the front.

The light was on in her room. Larry was out front, the house was full. She still felt that sensation of uneasiness.

She turned and leaned against the door, surveying the room, and she knew what was still bothering her. There wasn't anything that was an exact giveaway, but she still felt as if someone had been there. Someone who hadn't come to rob them, who hadn't taken anything. Someone who had come to do something worse. To invade…

To invade what?

She didn't know. But the pillow didn't seem to be on the bed at quite the angle that she had left it. The spread seemed to be a bit off. The items on the dresser seemed to have been moved just a fraction of an inch.

Kelsey checked the door again, searched the closet and the bath. She was definitely alone now.

She hesitated, then looked under the pillow.

Sheila's diary remained right where Sheila had left it.

Yet it, too, seemed to have been moved. Just a fraction of an inch…

Maybe she was simply losing her mind, so convinced that something terrible had befallen Sheila that she was making up evil ghosts in her mind.

Telling herself that she was crazy didn't seem to help any. Kelsey took a long shower, a couple of Tylenol and went to bed.

And stared into the murky darkness of the room, eyes wide-open, listening…

Listening…

Andy Latham, who was as crazy as a loon, was convinced they had thrown dead fish in his yard. And then there was Dane, who was behaving so suspiciously. He'd slept with Sheila, then she had disappeared. He'd been the last one to see her, and now he was reading about the Necktie Strangler. But Dane couldn't be guilty….

Why not?

Because she didn't want him to be.

A branch tapped on her window. She almost screamed aloud, then realized it was just a branch and she was being ridiculous. She had been so frightened tonight over nothing; they had all been stalking one another, when there had been no one here, no one outside….

Logic didn't matter.

In the night, in the dark, she was suddenly very afraid.

 

“Jesse,” Dane said, grabbing the phone.

“Dane, good, you're there.”

“Is it…could it be…?”

“No, definitely not Sheila. Some fishermen pulled up a body today. Just bones. They've been taken to the morgue, but the medical examiner said the victim has definitely been dead nine months to a year. They'll try to ID her as soon as possible, of course.”

“But it was the Necktie Strangler?”

“They aren't even sure of the cause of death. But the preliminary investigation suggests it's a young woman. And if they do connect her to the other murders, it means our guy started off long before any of us suspected. I don't have much real information to give you yet, but I wanted to let you know. The bones were found just west of Shark Valley. And I wanted you to know that it wasn't Sheila, so you wouldn't worry when you saw it in the papers.”

“Thanks, Jesse.”

“Ready to tell me what's going on yet?”

“Soon. I want to do a little more investigating first.”

“I'm here if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

Dane hung up, then left the house as he had intended. It was late, but there were some places in South Florida where the night was just beginning.

 

Morning was hell.

Sunlight made its way through the drapes, and, though muted, it seemed to pierce Kelsey's eyes with a vengeance. She had barely slept.

Rising, she drew the drapes anyway, recoiling and blinking in pain as the light increased. Still, it was the best way to wake up.

She jumped in and out of the shower, dressed, then made coffee. With her first cup, she felt more awake. And then foolish. Larry was still asleep in the spare room, and the shadows of the previous night became benign trees, gently waving in the breeze. Fear faded. Determination returned.

She thought about turning on her computer and tracking down the stories Dane had been reading, but decided instead that if she was looking for Sheila, first she needed to delve more deeply into her friend's life. She returned to her room, second cup of coffee in hand, and reached beneath the pillow for Sheila's diary.

It still surprised Kelsey that Sheila had kept any kind of a diary. She had always seemed far too busy living life to take the time to put anything down on paper.

The diary began shortly after Sheila had moved back to the Keys. The first page was a simple entry.

Home again, home again, home again. Things change, and yet they don't change at all.

Two days later, there was another entry.

The tourists are flocking. Busy little bees. Almost had to drag a lady out of a chair at the bar at Nate's. I told him he needed reserved stools for the locals. Naturally, being Nate, he took me seriously and tried to explain that he couldn't do that. And he had the nerve to say I wasn't really a local anymore. Ah, men, how quickly they forget. But that's okay.

Most of them are far too forgettable themselves.

The next few entries were basically just as mundane, yet typically Sheila.

How strange Dane has become. Somber. Not like him. Cool, though, that he's come back now, too. Told him I might wind up needing his services. He gave me a really strange look. God knows what he's heard about my past. I told him I wasn't thinking about stud service, that I might want to use him as a private eye. He said I should hire someone better. Poor guy. Wonder what happened. He won't talk about it. Thought he was just lying around drunk in a lounge chair, but he wasn't drunk, since he was drinking soda water, or so Nate said. He was just lying around. Strange to see Dane so beat, yet when he looks at you, when you see his eyes…well, there's life in there yet. Just have to reach him. Ah, well, I'm living in a piece of Paradise. Lots of pretty boys on the water. Better yet, lots of pretty rich boys on the water. Still, sometimes the old boys are the best boys. Time will tell. Meanwhile…

Saw Izzy.

Now there's quite a high.

Good old Izzy. His stuff just gets better and better.

And old Izzy isn't bad himself. He likes to bargain. Which is okay by me. Izzy has Latin rhythm down pat. Running his stuff keeps him in good shape. Another laugh. Officially he's in the fishing trade. Some fish. He takes tourists out and makes them so happy they couldn't care less if they get any fish. Cindy says she sees him at the gym now and then, but he must be working hard at his craft—running! What do I care? I'm hardly the FBI or DEA. Not likely. No, I'm the down and dirty kind, but hell, what would you expect? Still, the way he flirts and bargains is pretty cool. Makes me feel…okay, not exactly Madonna-Like-A-Virgin-ish, but damn cool close.

Combine Izzy and the stuff…

Not a bad deal. And I really do have one hell of a good time. If I were a guy, no one would think a thing about it. The shrink said I'm looking for something I can't have. He's full of shit. I was married. I had the good-looking guy with money, and I was bored to death. Maybe he was just the wrong guy. But if so, I threw away being what the other guy was looking for years ago. Just reread this, and I'm not making sense, even to myself. But maybe I don't want to make sense. Maybe I don't want to see the truth, even if it's just for my eyes only.

A knock on the bedroom door startled Kelsey so badly she might as well have been a guilty teenager. She jumped up and shoved the diary beneath the pillow.

“Hey, Kels? You awake in there, kid?”

“Yeah, yeah, Larry, I'm awake.”

She walked across the room, glancing at her watch. It was already one in the afternoon. She opened her door. Larry, somehow still looking like a
GQ
advertisement in shorts and a crew neck shirt, was smiling at her. “What do you think this is, vacation?” he teased. “Want to get some lunch?”

“Lunch?”

“Yeah, you know, the meal that's typically eaten sometime around noon.”

“Lunch? No,” Kelsey said, making a sudden decision. “I've got a few errands to run. But I'd love to have dinner. Let's meet at the new fish place just past Nate's at seven. How's that?”

She didn't really care how it was. She brushed past him, already on her way out for her purse and keys.

“Wait a minute, Kelsey. First of all, we'll probably hurt Nate's feelings if we eat somewhere else. And second, where on earth are you going? Cindy is going to wake up and want to know where you are. We were all spooked last night. She'll be worried, then she'll be pissed at me for letting you go.”

She paused at the door. “You're right, we don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. We'll meet at Nate's place at seven sharp.” Then she left before he could ask any more questions or give her any further argument.

 

Jesse Crane leaned against his desk and handed Dane the top dispatch from the stack. As Dane read, Jesse talked. “Looks like our killer has been busy a lot longer than any of us suspected. Forensics found remnants of threads around the neck. Down here, in the Everglades and the heat, a body can decompose quickly, but the ME's office still estimates the girl had been dead close to a year. There's no damage to the bones, though there's also no proof that she didn't drown. There were remnants of fabric found in the muck near the bones, and forensics may be able to discover what they came from. No actual clothing, no purses or shoes or other personal effects of the victims have been found, so it's quite possible that the remnants came from a tie. They managed to identify her quickly. Her name was Alsie Greer, aka Janice Thorson, aka Lydia Farning. She had a nice long rap sheet for drugs and prostitution, and worked in a really low-down joint up in Palm Beach County. Alsie cared for her teeth, though. She'd been reported missing eleven months ago, and the computer matched up the dental records right away. That was a lucky break. You know how long it can take just to identify a victim, much less—”