Hurricane Bay (17 page)

He kept walking.

“And I'll replace your shirt.”

He was still walking. She could have kicked herself for following him, but she couldn't stop herself. “He told me things I didn't know, Dane. And he might have told me more.”

He stopped at last and turned back to face her. “You've known Sheila forever. What could he have told you that you didn't already know?”

“That…well, I always knew Andy Latham was a creep, but according to Izzy, Sheila's mother was just as bad.”

Dane studied her for a long moment. “That's a surprise to you? And you think it will help you find Sheila now?”

“Everything I learn is a help, Dane. And—” She broke off. Dane wasn't telling her everything, so she wasn't going to tell him everything.

“And what?”

She shook her head. “I just feel that if I could have talked to him long enough, he might have said something that would have helped. I think Sheila was spending a lot of time with him, off and on.”

He looked down at the ground for a minute, then met her eyes again. “Kelsey, if you were going to spend time with everyone Sheila had been seeing, you'd need way more than a week's vacation.” He waved a hand in the air. “Sheila was…it was almost as if she was on a quest to prove that she could have whoever she wanted whenever she wanted him.”

“But why? If we knew, it might lead us to her. Or to whatever…happened to her. We have to find out why.”

“I
will
find out why. I told you that.”

She was silent for a minute. “But I could find out things you don't know.”

“Not a chance.”

“Oh?”

“Why do you say that?” His eyes narrowed.

She shrugged. “Because people who might not be willing to talk to you might be willing to talk to me.”

She walked past him.

“Where are you going?”

She hesitated. “Back to the duplex. Are you going to follow me?”

“You're really going back there? You're not going to go into the computer and see if you can find another violent career criminal to visit?”

“I'm really going back to the duplex.”

He nodded, then headed for his Jeep.

“Are you coming over?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “I have things to do.”

She hesitated, watching him climb into the Jeep. He turned on the motor and took a pair of sunglasses from the dashboard, but he didn't move the car. He just watched her through the dark lenses.

“We're meeting for dinner at Nate's at seven,” she told him. “Care to join us?”

She could read no emotion on his features, and she couldn't see his eyes.

“Yeah, I'll be there,” he said.

She turned and got into her car. A block down the street, she realized that, despite what he'd said, he was following her. He wasn't even pretending not to. When she parked at the duplex, though, he remained in his car. She walked over to him. “Are you coming in?”

“No, I just thought I'd see you safely in.”

“I thought you didn't care if I put myself into dangerous situations anymore.”

“I lied.” He adjusted his glasses. “Go inside, Kelsey.”

She turned impatiently and walked to the door, fitting her key into the lock. She stepped inside, calling Larry's name. He didn't respond, but she hadn't expected him to, since his car wasn't in the driveway. She hesitated before closing the door, remembering her uneasiness the night before. She ran through the duplex, checking out closets and bathrooms, then back to the front. Dane was still there, still staring impassively out from behind his sunglasses. She waved to him and closed the door, listening to him drive away.

She hesitated. Her half of the duplex was empty, and she knew it. So why did she still have the feeling that someone had been there who shouldn't have been? That someone had searched the rooms? That the space had somehow been violated.

She glanced at her watch. It wasn't quite three. She had plenty of time to run over the list of numbers she had taken from Izzy's cell phone. She walked to the kitchen, set her purse down and dug out the paper. She marked off the numbers she knew, amazed that he seemed to have so many that should have meant nothing to him at this stage of all their lives. He had Larry's home phone keyed in, as well as her own, and that of the company where they both worked. Nate's home, Nate's business. Cindy. Dane. There was one listed only as “JM.” She was willing to bet that number was Jorge Marti's. Just to double-check, she went to the phone and punched in the numbers. The phone rang, and then an answering machine picked up. “Hi, this is Jorge. Please leave a message. I'll get back to you as soon as possible.”

She hesitated, then said quickly, “Hi, Jorge, it's Kelsey Cunningham. A group of us are meeting at seven at Nate's for supper. We'd love it if you could join us.”

She hung up, then picked up the phone again, ready to try another number. After a moment she hung up without dialing, not wanting to call from the duplex.

Everyone had caller ID these days.

She drummed her fingers on the counter, wondering why she hadn't told Dane about Sheila's purse being on Izzy's boat, or that she had taken the numbers from his phone.

She really didn't know what the hell to do with the numbers. She knew it was somehow important that Izzy not only had all their numbers, but that he kept them on his cell phone. But as to finding out anything about the other numbers…she really didn't know how to go about it.

Dane would. He was a private investigator.

Maybe she would tell him. Soon. She was still disturbed by the fact that Sheila's earring had been at his house. That he had admitted to sleeping with her just before she disappeared.

What did it all mean?

 

Dane arrived at the Sea Shanty late. Before joining the group, he observed them from the doorway. Cindy was looking small but perfect in a backless sheath that showed off the definition of her shoulders, pecs and back. Larry was as perfectly pressed and tailored as ever in tan slacks and a black short-sleeved knit. Nate was wearing a surf shirt and knee-length Dockers, and he was enthusiastically discussing something with Larry. Kelsey was leaning back in her chair, her hair shimmering in the Tiki lights, curling over her bare shoulders. Her dress was a flowered strapless concoction that clung to every curve of her body. She was listening to the man in the chair at her left, Jorge Marti.

Jorge looked good. Dark, handsome, he was the only one in a jacket. His navy shirt was open at the throat underneath the beige blazer. Like Kelsey, he had the knack of looking both well-dressed and casual. Whatever he was saying to her was making her laugh.

Before joining the group, Dane discreetly took a few photos. Then he slid the small waterproof camera into the pocket of his black windbreaker and strode over to join them at their table.

Kelsey heard him coming and looked up. He couldn't tell if she was pleased by his arrival or not. Cindy, as always, jumped up with the effusive pleasure she showed to all her friends. “Dane, we were afraid you weren't coming.”

“Sorry I'm late,” he said, sitting and picking up a menu, though he knew it by heart. “Jorge, how are you doing?”

“Great, thanks. You?”

“Moving right along,” he said. “I hope I didn't keep you all from ordering?”

“We're in the Keys,” Larry said. “We're not supposed to be in any hurry. We planned on giving you half an hour, at least. Then we figured we'd spend another fifteen minutes being disappointed that you hadn't joined us.”

“I knew you'd show,” Nate said. “By the way, those hidden cameras worked great. Fired a kid today. Caught him right on tape with his hand in the till. Thanks, man. You saved me a bundle.”

“What can I say? Security works,” Dane said.

“I guess it's good,” Larry volunteered. He smiled at Kelsey across the table. “I don't know. At work, I feel like Big Brother is watching. The frigging cameras move. They follow you around.”

Dane gave him a rueful smile. “Good cameras. They're probably expensive. They must think highly of the work you do.”

Larry sniffed. “Either that, or they think we're going to make off with all their art supplies. Ah, well, such is corporate life.”

“Since Dane is here, let's order,” Cindy said. She looked at the suddenly silent group. “Okay, it's the Keys, but I live here all the time, and I'm starving.”

Laughter followed her words. Nate summoned the waiter, and they ordered. “I hope you're not disappointed,” he said. “This place isn't exactly gourmet.”

“We'll go gourmet another night,” Kelsey assured him. “Tonight we'll go with friendship and down-home good food.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” He lifted his glass toward her. She lifted hers in return. “To the best ex-wife I've ever had.”

“Thanks. Of course, I'm the
only
ex-wife you've ever had.”

“Scary to think I could have gotten married over and over again.” Nate shuddered. “I think you've made me a single man for the rest of my life.”

“Great, there's a real testimonial,” Kelsey groaned.

“No, no, I didn't mean it that way,” Nate protested. “None of us really seem cut out for marriage. Take Cindy, for instance. She may end up an old maid.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Cindy murmured.

“We're all in the same boat. I'm a reformed man, Dane doesn't show the least inclination toward marriage, God knows what goes on in Kelsey's mind, Jorge, you're still on the loose. And Larry…Larry and Sheila were a total disaster.”

“We weren't a total disaster. I still love her,” Larry said.

“Sheila wasn't meant for marriage,” Jorge said, without meeting Larry's eyes.

Larry shrugged. “You guys don't all have to stare at your drinks. Let's face it, my ex-wife has hopped into bed with every guy here.” He lifted a hand before any of them could protest. “Not while we were married—not with you guys, anyway—and if I'm wrong, I don't want to know. But it's true, I still love her.”

Dane noticed that Kelsey was staring at her ex-husband. He wondered if she knew about her ex's relationship with Sheila, or that he had been just as big a lech as any other man alive.

“Okay, here's to you for being such a decent guy,” Cindy said. “But you know what? Guys will sleep with anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm just a walking pile of testosterone,” Larry said.

Cindy had to laugh. Even Dane felt the twitch of a smile at the other man's mournful tone. “Kelsey says you're dating a model.”

“She
is
pretty gorgeous,” Larry admitted.

Cindy continued. “That's the problem. There just aren't that many decent guys out there anymore. And all the ones I know are my old friends.”

“That doesn't mean we aren't willing to oblige you in any way you might desire,” Larry told her, grinning.

“See what I mean? You're dating a gorgeous model, but you're ready to oblige me.”

“Hey, I was kidding. Besides, who knows what the future holds? It's awfully easy to find yourself available. I learned that the hard way.”

Cindy smiled. “Poor Larry. I'll keep the offer in mind—for the future, of course. I just hate to lose a really good friend by dating him.”

“Hey, Kels didn't just date me. She married me and divorced me, and we're still friends,” Nate said. “But then, I took the divorce awfully well.”

Kelsey stared at him, shaking her head. “Nate…”

“Hey, it's your loss. Isn't that what they say?”

“My loss. You're a good guy, Nate,” Kelsey assured him.

“Hey, at least she divorced you before sleeping with half the town,” Larry said.

“You know, Larry, you have Kelsey in the office with you all the time,” Cindy pointed out.

Kelsey groaned. “I never date co-workers.”

“And she means it, dammit,” Larry said.

Kelsey shrugged. “I hate to lose friends, too, and I also hate the idea of being uncomfortable at work if it didn't work out.”

“Good policy,” Jorge said. “You should never date clients, either.” He spoke casually, but when he met Dane's eyes, he blushed, despite his dark complexion, and looked uncomfortable. Dane wondered just how much his friends knew about what had happened in St. Augustine. Enough, apparently.

“This whole conversation is depressing me,” Cindy said.

“In that case, we'll talk about something else,” Larry told her.

“Oh!” Cindy said. “Did you hear that they dug up another skeleton in the Everglades?”

A dead silence followed her words. Dane studied the faces around him, wondering whether they were afraid to ask if the remains might belong to Sheila.