Hurricane Bay (27 page)

 

As they brought the
Madonna
into her berth, Kelsey was surprised to see that the young Coast Guard officer had decided not to waste any time. The majority of the charter boats were back in, and it appeared that a number of officers were walking the docks, talking with each captain and his passengers.

She paused, seeing that a tall, well-built black officer was on Izzy's deck.

“Want to hang around?” Larry asked her.

She shook her head. “No, I'd rather let those guys do their work and get back to the duplex.” She looked at him. “What can I do? Run around and stare at everyone they're questioning?”

Cindy was behind her. “You know, that might not be such a bad idea. Give them the eye, see if anyone breaks down and confesses.”

“No one is going to break down and confess. Let's get out of here. I want to take a shower, chill out and order pizza.”

They kept walking toward the parking lot. Kelsey hadn't been lying. She needed a shower. The sun seemed to be baking the sea salt permanently into her flesh. Though it was dropping now, the heat was still so intense that it shimmered over the pavement. She wanted a long shower, soft, clean clothing and the company of no one but friends.

“Think Dane will show up?” Jorge asked.

“We can hope not,” Nate said, casting a sideways glare at Kelsey. “
She'll
just let him in if he does.”

“Oh, come on, Nate!” Larry said. “Kelsey could have been killed. Naturally he's afraid. Especially after he fucked up in St. Augustine.”

“How do we know
he
wasn't down there with a speargun?” Nate said.

“He didn't come out of the water with a speargun,” Jorge reminded them. He had stopped walking. “I wonder if I shouldn't stay behind for a bit. Check on my captain, see what's happening on my own boat. I'll be there later, though, so don't count me out.”

“Of course not,” Kelsey told him. “We all need showers, downtime. Let's do the pizza thing about seven or eight, how's that?”

“Good by me,” Jorge said. He lifted a hand to them and started back for the dock and the berth where the
Free as the Sea
was docked.

 

“Nate, chill,” Cindy commanded.

“How many years have I known that guy?” Nate said. “And he suggests that
we
might have been careless with spearguns. Hell, was he suggesting one of us might really have been down there on purpose, trying to hit Kelsey?”

“Nate, he reacted to a situation, that's all. He's got a thing for Kelsey, always has had, and we all know it,” Larry said with a deep sigh of impatience. “I'm not going to throw out a friendship over this. Do you really want to? Hell, the guy has helped you. He set up the cameras that caught your thief, and he spends half his life at the Sea Shanty.”

Nate shrugged, dug around in the pocket of the short-sleeved tailored shirt he'd thrown on, found a pack of cigarettes and lit one. His fingers were shaking.

“I thought you quit,” Cindy said with reproach.

“Yeah, I did.”

Cindy shook her head and started walking toward the parking lot again.

“Hey, guys, come on, this is my vacation time,” Larry said.

Nate nodded. “Okay, okay. Let's go get ready for our cozy little pizza party.” He hesitated suddenly, looking back toward the dock.

“What is it?” Kelsey asked him.

“I was just thinking…do you think old Andy Latham might have gotten in his boat and gone out there? Even Dane said that he didn't notice the names of all the boats out there. Do you think Latham could be smart enough to go after you like that? Would he even be capable of such planning and subterfuge? I mean, whoever was down there was either one lucky asshole or one very clever would-be killer.”

Kelsey looked at Nate. “I don't know. I really don't know,” she said. “But if Latham's boat had been there, don't you think one of us would have noticed it?”

“Hell, I didn't even notice that Jorge's boat was there, and Jorge was with us,” Nate said.

“I didn't notice what other boats were out there because I wasn't paying any attention. But if Latham's boat had been out there, Dane would have seen it.”

Cindy turned back. “Are you guys coming? If Latham was out there, who the hell says he was even on his
own
boat? Please, can we go? I feel like a salt lick for an entire herd of cattle. Whatever happened out there doesn't matter right now, because we're all together. Let's hit it.”

Kelsey and Nate started walking, but Kelsey found herself stopping and looking back again.

Izzy Garcia was standing barefoot on his dock, hands on his hips.

Staring after her.

She couldn't see his eyes or read his features. But even at a distance, it was easy to read his body language.

The man was furious.

 

Sunday afternoons tended to be crazy, which Dane knew. He returned to his house, docked his boat, opted for a two-second shower and clean clothes, then drove down to the marina.

Sunday evenings could be quiet. Dead quiet.

In the time it took him to get back, the activity at the marina had died away. But it was Izzy Garcia he wanted to see first, and the
Lady Havana
was at her berth.

He left his car and hurried down the walkway until he reached Izzy's charter boat.

He glanced at his watch and then at the sky. It was nearly nightfall. On a Sunday night that meant a lot of people were heading north to Miami-Dade and beyond to prepare for Monday morning and the workweek. The tourists and daytime fishermen had taken their catches and headed on home or to their hotels. Cocktail time was drifting into the dinner hour at the local restaurants. But the hectic pace at the marina had slowed to the lazy crawl that came at the end of such a day.

Dane headed straight for the
Lady Havana.
There was no sign of Izzy or anyone else on the boat. He jumped lightly from the dock to the deck. The
Lady Havana
rocked ever so slightly at her mooring.

Before he could reach the cabin, Izzy emerged. His features were so tense it looked as if he barely had enough skin to stretch across the bone structure of his face.

“Took you longer than I thought,” he told Dane, and headed back down into the cabin. He opened the refrigerator as Dane followed.
“Tú quieres una cerveza?”

“No, I don't want a beer. I want answers.”

Izzy took out a beer for himself, popped the top and swallowed for a long time before lowering the can with a sigh and staring at Dane again, as if he were watching a rabid dog.

“Maybe the pressure is making you
loco, amigo,
” he said. “Now you think that I take out a charter, leave the clients on board, grab a speargun and go after a woman everyone has always liked?”

“So the Coast Guard came.”

“Oh, yeah, the Coast Guard came.” He waved an arm vaguely to indicate the cabin. “To the others, they ask a few questions. Me? Me they grill for twenty minutes.”

“You
are
a dope-peddler. Occupational hazzard,” Dane said. “You know, cops and such wanting to talk to you.”

Izzy gave him an icy smile. “You think I'm selling at the high school?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Izzy shook his head. “I sell recreation to adults. Maybe some people with whom I've worked have gotten careless and greedy. I will make it stop.”

“What do you think, Izzy? That you can make me stop wanting to nail your ass?”

“You're not here about the drugs today. You're here about Kelsey. No, it's more than that. You're here about Sheila.”

“Someone tried to nail Kelsey in the water today. And Sheila…”

“You think Sheila is dead.”

Dane didn't respond.

Izzy walked through the cabin, lifting the seat cover on the port side of the boat and pulling out Sheila's purse. “You have come for this, I believe. Kelsey found it. I knew that, of course. But I don't know where Sheila is. Maybe she is dead. Sheila played in many scary places. Maybe she knew things she shouldn't have known. And maybe she did things she shouldn't have done. But I didn't kill her. Here, you take this. Go ahead and waste your time hounding me. I didn't kill Sheila. I could swear to that, but it wouldn't mean shit to you if I did so. I didn't go in the water with a speargun, and I didn't kill Sheila. Now get the fuck off my boat.”

Dane didn't move.

“You keep an interesting set of numbers in your phone, Izzy,” he said.

Izzy swallowed the rest of the beer. “Yes, I watch everyone. I know where everyone is and what they are doing. It's good to know things about people. Maybe I'll become a private investigator, too, one day. And maybe I'll be better than you. I make it my business to know what goes on with the people who think they know me too well.”

“Izzy, I would never claim to know you too well. I just know
about
you.”

“That thing. In St. Augustine. What happened wasn't your fault.”

Dane felt his jaw twist, but he didn't allow his emotion to show.

“Trying to suck up to me?”

“Why? I don't need to suck up to you. You can't prove anything against me.”

“I must be awfully close.”

“I don't think so. You see, that is why I make it my business to know about the people around me.”

“If you make it your business to know about people, why can't you tell me more about Sheila?”

Izzy arched a brow, then gave Dane a sardonic grimace. “No one really knew about Sheila. She couldn't anticipate her own movements. But you—you should be careful. Here you are on my boat. The big military man who learned all about killing.” He mimed aiming a gun with his fingers. “Don't you know? Even tough guys can be killed by the crazy people out here. And even some who are not crazy, just businessmen. You could wind up dead, you know.”

“Now, now, Izzy. First you suck up to me, then you threaten me.”

“Hey, I'm just talking. Pointing out some of the facts of life.”

“Tell me, Izzy, would you happen to be the Necktie Strangler?”

Izzy could be a good actor, Dane knew, but the look he gave him then registered genuine surprise. Then he tightened his features into a snarl of real disgust. For a moment Dane thought he was going to spit on the floor of his own cabin.

But he didn't. “The Necktie Strangler? Do you think I'm some psycho? Look around you. I do well with women, my friend. Very well. Perhaps not with women like Kelsey, who think they know me too well, same as you. But you should see some of the corporate wives who come aboard this boat with their paunchy husbands. They long for a man who doesn't have a fat white tire for a middle. The Necktie Strangler…he is some sick reject, desperate, seeking revenge, perhaps. Or maybe he was just born bad. Evil. He is probably what they call a bad seed. And I am not. I've chosen my way in life. I like to take a few chances. I disagree with some laws, but I am not evil inside.”

“You're quite the upstanding citizen, Izzy.”

“Yes, I am. And you should know this—
if
I wanted someone dead, it would not be like that. Perhaps you should look at some of your friends. Why don't you find out what Jorge Marti does out on the ocean in the middle of the night?”

“Why don't you just tell me?”

“I don't actually know for certain,” Izzy said. “That's the truth. But I know that he is out there. And I know that whatever he does, he does in darkness. There, I've told you what I know and what I've seen,” Izzy told him. “Now get off my boat. I've given you what was Sheila's. Yes, she left it here when I saw her last, but that was before
you
saw her last. If what you really want is the truth about Sheila, you're wasting your time with me. I didn't kill her. It did not even occur to me that she might be dead or a victim of the Necktie Strangler—which apparently you do, or why accuse me of being such a man? I didn't hurt Sheila. Ever. I gave her a great deal of pleasure, actually. So, lay off. Get off my ass and leave me alone.”

Dane folded his arms over his chest. “If you know anything, Izzy, it would be good for you to tell me.”

“I've told you all I know. Now will you leave? Or were you planning on beating me to a pulp. Maybe break my arm?”

“Your face, actually,” Dane said. “But I can't afford to spend a night in jail.” He started out of the cabin and up topside, to the deck. Izzy followed him.

On deck, he stopped. “What about those rape charges that were filed against you, Izzy?”

“Filed and dropped,” Izzy said.