“Is this stuff in the car?”
“No, I tossed it out the window.”
The pain in my neck surged when I realized it was all because of a nickel bag of weed.
“Okay. I noticed the reverse lights on your Honda didn’t seem to be working right.”
“Yeah, there’s some recall notice about it. I’m bringing it in next week.”
Recall notice? Shit, I never thought to check into that.
“Would you voluntarily consent to a search of your car?”
“Absolutely, I have nothing to hide.”
“Okay, I’ll get the consent forms arranged, and if it’s clean, we’ll release you.”
“It will be—I guarantee it.”
“Okay, and do me a personal favor since I’m the one who got banged up. I’d appreciate if you’d consider donating to the Naples EMS.”
“No problem. I’d be happy to do what I can. Really, no problem at all.”
Before going to see Chester, I retreated to the bathroom. Trying to coax a urination out, I couldn’t believe the position I was in. Not only was my damn neck and knee hurting, but I wrecked my car and reputation. How the hell was I gonna spin this? Thank God Haines had jumped the gun with Hannah, or Chester would have me working security at the courthouse.
Washing my hands, I realized there wasn’t a viable excuse for my recklessness that made sense. Without a way to dress it up, I had no choice but to fess up to my mistake. I’m not sure where it came from, but it hit me that with Vargas in the hospital, and with the shine off the FBI, I was still Chester’s best hope to solve this case.
Chapter 37
No one would describe me as cautious, but after being reminded by Chester that we had swung and missed twice, it was time to choke up on the bat. Tax records had a Robert DeBlasi as the owner of the Mangrove Bay home Ethan Dwyer had registered his Honda to. Either he was bunking with a friend, or it was a diversionary tactic.
Haines had pinged Dwyer’s cell phone history, and it showed he was often around The Spirit of Fellowship Church. We had the Honda, a church connection, and his cell phone in the vicinity of three crime scenes the day before the bodies were discovered. Under normal circumstances, I’d have Dwyer sweating in an interrogation room, but I hesitated on pulling the trigger. It’d be nice to have Vargas around to run interference if I screwed up again. Three strikes you’re out, but if no one was looking, you could get four.
Telling myself that going to see the owner of the house where Dwyer had his car registered wasn’t violating every protocol, I headed to Mangrove Bay. Turning off Goodlette, I slowed down. My neck flared when I jammed the brake pedal. A thin man was getting into an Accord parked in the driveway. Considering whether to tail, I took my foot off the brake, pulled in back of him, and got out.
The Accord’s driver door opened. Dwyer stuck his head out, threw his hands up, and got out. Grabbing his lower back, he arched back, lifting his chin toward a darkening sky. Scarecrow-like, Dwyer’s green shirt looked like it was on a coat hanger, and his beige pants were bunched up at the waist. My suspect’s brown hair was parted down the middle, like Johnny Depp, but not as long.
He was one of the guys who had been helping Minister Booth pack bags of food. “Mr. Dwyer?”
A gust of wind blew as he nodded. “Yes.”
“Detective Luca, with the sheriff’s office. You got a couple of minutes to talk?”
“Sure, what about?”
Pointing to a charcoal mass over the Gordon River, I said, “We might be better off inside.”
“All right, come on in.” As he reached in his car to hit the remote, I peered in the Honda’s window: cloth seats and a wooden cross hanging from the rearview mirror.
The gray speckled floored two-car garage was completely empty, except two carpet runners with tire impressions and a stack of tile. Was Dwyer another neat freak?
The house had a fresh paint smell to it but no furniture other than two folding chairs and an aluminum folding table.
“You just move in?”
Holding the rear of the chair, he slowly lowered himself. “No, been here about ten months. It’s not mine. It’s my half-brother’s home. About a month before they closed, his wife’s appendix burst, and it’s been one thing after another.”
“Sorry to hear.”
“She’s doing better at the moment. We’ll see how it goes. Anyway, he didn’t want the house empty, and my lease was up, so I’m basically a house sitter. I inhabit the third bedroom.”
Inhabit? “If you like the water, this is a great spot to be.”
“I don’t mind the beach, but you can keep the boating and fishing.”
“You like to hunt?”
“A little, when I was up in Wisconsin.”
Interesting. the state with the loosest gun laws in America. As far as I knew, you didn’t need a permit for a rifle or a handgun.
“I love to hunt, got a bunch of rifles, 30.06, a Ruger 308, a Savage MK 11, and about five others.”
I laughed.
“How about you? You own a couple?”
I gave him a blank look.
“What did you want to discuss?”
“I’ll get right to it. You go to The Spirit of Fellowship Church, don’t you?”
“I volunteer a couple of times a month. Minister Booth is genuine, if lax.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“James 4:11 instructs us, ‘Do not speak against a brother.’”
How the hell do they remember all these quotes? “Probably a good policy, but in my line of work, I depend on people talking.” I laughed.
“Minister Booth is a good, God-loving man. He does a lot of good work. It’s getting late, and I must get going.”
“How do you like your Accord? I was thinking of getting one myself.”
“It’s good, I like it, but I don’t care much about cars.”
“I hear you. The only thing I care about is that it starts.”
He smiled. “I feel the same.”
“I was talking to a guy when I was getting gas, and he said there was a problem with the backup lights, something about a recall.”
“Yeah, my reverse light is on most of the time. I have to make an appointment to get it rectified.”
“It’s funny. A car seen at a couple of the Aquatic Assassin crime scenes had the same issue.”
“Is that why you’re here? You think I’m the one who killed those . . . men?”
It was a curious pause. “We’re just running down all the Accord owners in the county, and there’s a helluva lot of them.”
Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Is this the point where you ask me where I was on the nights all the murders took place?”
“I don’t like asking, but I gotta put something in the report to rule you out. I don’t need much, say, one or two firm alibis would be enough to cross you off the list.”
“I was probably working. I work most nights.”
“Where are you working?”
“I drive for Uber mostly, but I do Lyft every now and then.”
Shit. No wonder his cell phone records pinned him as being in the crime scene areas.
“Can you make any money doing that?”
“Depends. That’s why I only drive late at night—less drivers on the road, so fares rise.”
“Makes sense. Down here things start slowing down around eight.”
“I never go out till nine, sometimes ten.”
Before I could speak he followed up. “Not all the time; a lot of times I’m out by six, you know, take people to dinner. Some people use us to go home from work.”
Which was it? Never before nine or by six?
“Sounds like a science. Just give me one day then so I can get out of here. How about the night of June twenty-fifth?”
“Let me think a moment. Oh yes, I was with my half-brother. He came down—there was an issue with the flooring. Some def
ect. They had to replace a lot of it, and he had to pick a replacement.”
“Sounds like a nightmare. But with his wife sick, he came down? I know my girlfriend would’ve went nuts if I left her alone. Couldn’t they just send him samples?”
“There was a lot of samples. They’re in the garage, but yeah, I think he needed a break and wanted to come down. He has a lot of money tied up in this place.”
“Thanks for clearing that up. Hey, you mind giving me a quick tour of this place? I don’t know anybody with a house like this.”
“Sure.” He swung his legs to the side of the chair and grimaced.
“Back bothering you?”
“All the time.”
“I got some exercises that help, you know, stretches. They really work.”
He shook his head. “I have a steel rod in my back, fused vertebrae, smashed discs, you name it.”
“Wow. What happened?”
“Hit by a damn drunk driver. Was in the hospital two months. Had to learn how to walk again and everything.”
“Hope the bastard is behind bars.”
“He had collected three DUIs before he struck my car, and all he received was a measly eighteen-month sentence. The judicial system failed miserably.”
I was part of the system, and he was right. Sometimes there seemed to be a hand on the justice scale.
“This is the master suite. Wait till you see the bathroom—it’s like a spa.”
I liked the gray-and-white palette of the bathroom, but what really interested me was the bedroom area. There wasn’t a piece of furniture in it.
Chapter 38
“Is this Robert DeBlasi?”
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“Detective Frank Luca, Collier County Sheriff’s Office.”
“Did something happen to my house?”
“No, I just have a couple of questions about your recent visit.”
“I haven’t been down in almost a year.”
“Oh, maybe there’s been some misunderstanding.”
“What’s this all about?”
“I understand your half-brother, Ethan Dwyer, is house-sitting for you.”
“Yes, it’s a long story, but my wife became ill, and we’ve had to postpone our move to Naples.”
“You and Mr. Dwyer are half-brothers?”
“Not exactly, my parents took him in through the foster care program. He lost his mother at an early age. She was murdered, and he went through the system for about five years before he came to live with us.”
“Nice of your parents. How did you get along with him?”
“Is Ethan all right? He didn’t do something, did he?”
“Was he ever violent?”
“Violent? No. He was a bright kid, smarter than me, but he was guarded, kinda reserved. He never quite fit in. He started spending a lot of time at one of those evangelical churches. I thought the place was over the top, but Ethan said he liked the fire they had.”
“Do you remember the name of the church or minister?”
“Geez, that was a long, long time ago. I can’t remember that. Look, did he do anything that would get him in trouble?”
“It’s a large investigation, and I’m looking at all kinds of possibilities. What else can you tell me?”
“Ethan had a very rough start but wasted his intelligence. He has a crazy high IQ, something over a hundred and thirty, but despite that, he bounced around from job to job. Never employed at anything meaningful. Ethan’s a good guy, just lost, I guess you could say.”
“Anything else?”
“Like I said, he was dealt a terrible hand as a kid, then he was hit by a drunk, and we almost lost him. He was really screwed up, needed a couple surgeries. It was a struggle for him to get back on his feet.”
After finishing up with DeBlasi, I made another call.
“Tommy boy, it’s Frank.”
“Tommy boy?”
Caught red-handed trying to butter him up. “That’s what I used to call a friend I grew up with, that’s all.”
“How’d you make out with the . . . information?”
“That’s why I’m calling. It was helpful, but I could really use some help with something else.”
“No problem. If I can help, I will.”
“Can you get information from Uber and Lyft about a driver’s activity? You know, where his rides originated and ended.”
“These tech companies protect their data like crazy.”
“Unless their selling it to an advertiser.”
“No doubt. How many days of data you looking for?”
“I’m looking to see if a suspect was near the crime scenes, innocently driving someone, or not.”
“If you don’t need the passengers’ names it will be easier.”
“Not at all.”
“Email the suspect’s name and DMV records, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, man. you’re a lifesaver, bro.”
Chapter 39
My guilt was crowding out my sympathy. Mary Ann was rushed back into the hospital. I felt bad for her, I really did, but the timing couldn’t be worse. I was going to meet Kayla for drinks at the Wine Loft in Mercato. It was selfish and childish, but I couldn’t shake my self-centered desire to see her.
My watch read 5:50 when I pushed through the hospital’s revolving door. I’d left work earlier than usual, scheming to stay with Mary Ann for an hour and a half, hoping I’d be able to scoot out and meet Kayla around seven thirty, as planned.
Mary Ann was eating when I walked in her room.
“You get a tray for me?”
“Hi, Frank. You’re here early.”
I pecked her cheek. “I was worried about you. You look good, and you’re eating. You can’t be feeling too bad.”
“I don’t have any pain. They gave me something as soon as I was admitted. They took some X-rays, and the doctor thinks it’s a cyst on my right ovary.”
“That’s what they said last time, right?”
“Not the doctor, it was a nurse who said she had the same kind of pain.”
“They should have checked it out then.”
“I know, but anyway, tomorrow I’m getting an MRI, and if they confirm that’s what’s giving me trouble, I’ll have a procedure the next day.”
“You better eat good, then. I could grab a pie from Rosedale, because you’re not going to be able to eat before the surgery.”
The mush on her plate made me want to upchuck. I couldn’t even look at it.
“You didn’t eat, right?”
“No. But I’m okay.”
“You want my applesauce?” She held up a hockey-puck-sized container.
“Nah. Maybe I’ll see what they have in the cafeteria later.”
“Give me an update on Dwyer.”
By the time we finished talking about the case it was it six thirty. We watched the news, and halfway through Jeopardy two of her girlfriends came in, laden with balloons and magazines. After a ten-minute greeting, I got two chairs for them and checked my phone.
“Frank, why don’t you go?”
“No, it’s okay.” I said what I had to say instead of doing a fist pump.
“But you didn’t eat yet, and it’s almost seven thirty. Go get something to eat and go home. I’m fine.”
“You sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“You’re not going to be talking about me, are you?”
The girls giggled like cheerleaders.
Mary Ann said, “Go ahead. get something to eat and go home. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“You sure?”
“Bye, Frank.”
I kissed all three on the cheek and resisted the temptation to skip out of the room. I hit the elevator button at 7:28. Perfect.
The elevator and my demeanor fell at the same time. A pianist was playin
g “The Girl Who Got Away” in the hospital’s lobby. I pushed the guilt and the door out and headed to meet Kayla.
Driving toward 41, I cut into River Chase Plaza and jumped into a Publix supermarket. They always had flowers. I grabbed two bunches, checked out, and got back in the car.
The smell of lilies clogged up my nasals. Another oversight, Luca. Man, you’re slipping. I debated what looked better, a bunch in each hand, or combining both. Opting for the visual of one large bouquet, I put a smile on and entered.
“Frank! I thought you went home.”
“I couldn’t leave you here with these two.”
“He’s a keeper, Mary Ann.”
I said, “Let me get something from the nurse’s station to put these in.” I stepped outside and sent a text to Kayla that something had come up.
Chapter 40
“What do have for me, Tommy?”
“Dwyer was driving for Uber each of the nights the victims were shot—”
“What?”
“Hold on, Frank. I’m getting to the interesting part. Uber has a couple of modes for drivers. One is the normal mode, where drivers are alerted about a person nearby looking for a ride. Dwyer was using that mode, which is the default option, when he started driving each of the days in question. Then he went dark, never accepted a ride for a while, then he went into what they call ‘go home’ mode. When a driver is at the end of his day and wants to head home he plugs in his destination, and the app looks for people who need a ride in that direction.”
“Makes sense. I always wondered about how drivers work their way back home.”
“Well, it seems Dwyer was masking his moves. Uber said they offered rides each of the nights in question that were heading in the direction Dwyer said he wanted to go, but Dwyer never accepted.”
“Pretty cunning of him. What was the location Dwyer told Uber he wanted to go?”
“Downtown Fifth Avenue area.”
“That’s close to where he’s staying. You have something hard we can bring to Sheriff Chester?”
“This was unofficial, Frank.”
“I’m going to need something to get a warrant. We need to search his car and the Mangrove Bay house.”
Third Chances Page 15