by Kait Carson
Hayden turned and then turned back to face her friend. “It’s Kevin.”
“What?”
“Kevin. It has to be Kevin. He’s behind this.”
Her face hardened in frustration. “It was his brother who died.”
“He had opportunity and means.”
“Motive?”
Eighteen
Disgusted by the direction of her thoughts, Hayden clicked on the recorder and spoke into it. Using the same techniques she used to construct solid pleadings, she listed the events she recalled from the night Richard died. Then she listed her questions cross-referencing them to what she knew. Nothing worked. She had nothing to fill in the detail of the night after she went to bed. Even her vague recollection of walking between boats at the marina floated independent of any other action. Closing her eyes, she visualized the scene again.
She woke up, with the logy feeling of a hangover, in a lounge chair. She was wet, salt water wet. The sun was just breaking. The light had the purple hazy quality of early dawn. No one was around, but it was Saturday and fishermen liked to get out on the water early. Grant said there were witnesses. Her car was in guest parking. She had to have driven it there.
Her blood ran cold at the thought that she drove and had no recollection of the act. A drunk driver killed her parents. Her stomach turned at the thought of her own irresponsibility. It was only luck that she hadn’t killed someone in her car. With an effort she pulled her thoughts back to the events she could remember. She let herself feel the cloying dampness of her swimsuit. Her eyes were heavy, damp hair clung to her forehead. Two sets of keys lay on the table next to her lounge chair. Hers, easily identifiable by the key chain that depicted the wreck of the Eagle, and a set she didn’t recognize. She’d scooped up her keys and left the other set there. She tried to see the second set again. The keys had no alarm fob. Unusual these days. With a start, she realized the keys didn’t look like they went to a car. They were short and stubby and they were on a float chain. Her eyes flew open. The keys belonged to a boat!
The realization left her with more unanswered questions. Frustrated, she clicked off the recorder. Soul searching wasn’t working. Mallory was right. She needed to act like a professional. She needed to get the official reports and see what gaps they filled in.
The Tahoe’s grey leather seat steamed in the sun. She’d forgotten to put the sunshade across the windshield. Hayden started the engine, cranked up the air conditioner, and let the car idle. While she waited for the interior to cool, she considered her options. The agencies she needed to visit stretched up and down U.S. 1 like pearls in a necklace. She decided to start with Monroe County Sheriff’s Office. They were furthest away and if nothing else, it would be a nice ride to Plantation Key.
As a reward for finally taking control of her worst nightmare, she promised herself a stop at Keys Art Co-op. The bohemian arts and crafts gift shop had an adorable cat dish the last time she was there. It was expensive, but Tiger Cat had a birthday coming up. He should have something extra nice. Especially if he was about to be orphaned.
“Get positive, girl,” she said. “Get in your truck and enjoy the scenery. You’re taking control. You’re a strong woman. Be proud. Then stop and buy salve for your savage soul.” She smiled and climbed into her truck. Punching the radio on, the vintage sounds of Helen Reddy singing “I am Woman” filled the air. Hayden took it as an omen and sang her own slightly off-key version.
Traffic was light and the trip to the Sheriff’s office only took forty-five minutes. She consumed most of it giving herself pep talks. Pulling into the parking lot, she found a space under the shade of a banyan tree. She turned off the engine and looked at the white buildings in front of her. The reality of what she faced overwhelmed her, every negative thought she’d fought off during the drive echoed in her mind.
Rooted to her seat, she tried to command her body to obey her mind. It took her a minute to stop trembling. Her hands left sweat marks on the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath, she opened the truck door and steadied herself on the running board. She squared her shoulders and stepped down. “First time is the worst time. You’re working for a client,” she muttered. Halfway across the pea rock parking lot she cursed herself for the strappy white sandals she wore. They perfectly complimented her sundress, but they were treacherous on this terrain. Hayden concentrated so hard on keeping her footing that she forgot her fears.
The transition from bright light to the dim reception area blinded her. She closed her eyes. When her vision cleared, she found herself looking at the desk officer and Detective Landsdown.
Hayden’s heart beat so loudly she was sure the two officers would hear it. Heck, the entire building must hear it. A buzzing sound started in her ears. Her vision tunneled. The room spun around her.
Through hazy vision, Hayden saw the duty officer rise and come through the swinging gate that separated the public from the police. The woman’s arm wrapped around her waist and guided her somewhere. She welcomed the feel of a rough wood bench on her bare thighs. A voice from a far distance voice told her it would be all right and asked someone to call nine-one-one.
“No. No.” Hayden shook her head. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. A trickle of sweat ran along her hairline tickling her. “I’m all right. It’s so hot and bright outside. Then coming in here where it’s so dark and cool…” Her voice trailed off. “I got disoriented.”
“Well ma’am, just sit for a minute,” the young officer said. “We don’t want anything to happen to you. Let me get you some water.”
“That won’t be necessary, officer,” Landsdown said. “I’ll bring her back to my office.”
The room spun again at his words. “I’m totally fine.” Her voice sounded thready. What was her problem? This was whom she came to see. “Maybe some water.” She tried and failed to meet the eyes of the officer standing in front of her. “If you don’t mind.” Stop acting guilty. You’re a victim. Yeah, then why aren’t you here with Grant to tell them about the marina? She pushed the thought from her mind and promised herself she would tell them after she went over the report with Grant.
Taking the offered paper cup in her now steady hand, Hayden stood. The officer gripped her elbow and accompanied her to the wood rail separating the public area. She gave Hayden a poker faced look of appraisal and released her while she went through the gate to her desk.
“Detective,” Hayden began. “I’d like a copy of the incident report for the Anderson death.” Taking her courage in both hands, she added, “I’d also like a copy of any other paperwork you have pertaining to me and the incident.”
Landsdown directed a cold cop stare in her direction and Hayden concentrated on making her face blank. After all, she’d come into his den. Not the other way around. Something like amusement played in his eyes. “Sure, no problem. I’m surprised your attorney didn’t call and ask for a copy.” He swung the gate open and held it while she passed in front of him. “This way.” He touched her arm and directed her out of the bullpen.
The institutional green walls of the corridor closed in on her as she walked down them. They passed the familiar interview room and she heaved a sigh of relief. Landsdown stopped two doors down, inserted his key into the lock, and opened the door. Standing aside, he ushered her into his office.
“Have a seat,” he said, taking files and books from one of the torn green chairs in front of a desk. The office was impersonal. The only item that gave a clue to the occupant was a wedding picture. Hayden looked at it and back at Landsdown. His hair had thinned, but his face held no lines and he looked the same. Following her glance, he smiled softly. “It was a long time ago, and it seems like yesterday.”
Hearing the emotion in his voice melted some of her fear. He was human after all.
Rummaging in a file drawer, Landsdown brought out a slim folder and handed it to her. “Is th
is what you wanted?”
Hayden took the proffered file, placing one hand on the edge of the metal desk as she did so. Opening the file, she thumbed through the pages, not really reading them. The bottom item contained a report of the body recovery. Autopsy notes, an interview with Janice Kirby after she identified the body, and notes of two telephone calls, one from Kevin completed one side. Fastened under the prong fastener on the other side were notes of her interview. She’d never been handed what was obviously a working file before. Deciding to call Landsdown’s bluff, she tossed the file folder on the desk and said, “Please have a copy made for me.” Seeing surprise reflected on his face, she added, “I’ll pay for the copies.”
Landsdown threw back his head and laughed. “Are you representing yourself now? I wondered when you showed up alone.”
“Detective,” Hayden put steel in her voice. “Refuse to give me the documents and you can respond to a subpoena duces tecum.” She used the legal term for a subpoena requiring copies of documents. “Your choice. Nothing in that file is privileged.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. The look on his face told Hayden her change of tone caught him off guard. “I’ll give you a copy. It’s a report file so you can have it. You’re in a lot of trouble.”
“Doubtful, Detective, unless finding a body is trouble.”
He again looked at her with a measuring stare. “I’ll be right back.” He stood and walked to the door. Hayden noted his military posture and wondered at his background. At the door he turned back to face her. “These are freebies. A gift from the County. Your tax dollars at work.”
Despite the cold of the room, Hayden felt perspiration dampen her hairline. She’d won this round. Why did she feel so hollow?
Mindful of maintaining a professional attitude, she opened the envelope Landsdown handed her and flipped through the copies. She caught an amused glint in his eye and what looked like the start of a smile as he watched her.
“It’s all there,” he said. He escorted her back down the hallway to the reception area. She felt his eyes follow her as she picked her way back across the parking lot to her truck.
Hayden tossed the envelope on the back seat. As she pulled away, she picked up her cell phone from the console cup holder and said, “Mallory.” The voice-activated directory dialed the number. The call rang through to voicemail.
“Damn,” she mumbled. Now that she was safely out of the Sheriff’s office she wanted to share her success. “Mal, you’re a genius. I just got the County report. I’m doing a quick stop at Keys Art Co-op and then heading to the Coast Guard office. I’ll call you tonight. I have a couple of questions. I never knew it was so hard to be a client. Gives me a different perspective.”
At the Keys Art Co-op, she drove under the awning that fronted the giant lobster statue and slid into a space barely large enough for her Tahoe. Hayden climbed out of the car and locked it with the remote. Florida’s thunderstorms set off her alarm so frequently, she’d long since turned the siren off and disconnected the auto lock feature. Walking up the stairs to the shops, she turned, looked back at her car, and said, “Why take the chance?” Returning to the car, she grabbed the envelope with the report, folded it in half and tucked it into her handbag. Fingering the remote again, she heard the chirp as she entered the rustic mall.
She walked through the courtyard to a store located on the far side of the garden. Three potters were hard at work in the building. One energetic woman was throwing clay on a kick wheel. The other two were painting and glazing their original works at a long paint-stained trestle table. Hayden spotted the dish she wanted from across the room. It was one decorated in primary colors and featured a stylized cat in the bottom with blue fish circling the rim. A car alarm sounded from somewhere in the front of the building. Paying little attention to the shrill noise, she continued looking until she found a matching bowl that featured the fish on the bottom and cats circling the outside. Tiger was having a two-bowl birthday. She’d use one for water and the second for food. Hayden plunked down her credit card next to the bowls on the desk when a plump woman from the shop in the front of the complex caught her eye.
“Did you get out of a white Tahoe?”
“Yes, am I blocking someone?”
“No. Someone just bashed in your side window. I didn’t see who but I heard the glass break and the alarm went off. I don’t know if they got inside.”
A jolt of fear bubbled in her veins, followed by a flash of anger that someone would vandalize her car in broad daylight in a busy parking lot. She nodded her thanks to the portly woman. Running as quickly as her high heels would allow over the uneven boards that made up the sidewalk, Hayden fished in her handbag for her cell phone. Her fingers closed around her car keys, but no phone. “Call nine-one-one!” she shouted to no one in particular.
Her heels clattered down the steps of the building. The alarm stopped when she fingered the remote. She breathed a sigh of relief. At first glance, all the windows looked intact. She circled to the far side of her vehicle. The rear passenger window was shattered. The frame held jagged shards of glass. Anger tightened her shoulders and heat crawled into her cheeks. Through the space between the front seats, she saw her cell phone sitting in the cup holder. Whoever did this hadn’t taken the only thing of value in the car. She looked wildly around, not sure what she expected to see. Her gaze searched the growing crowd. No one looked guilty, but someone broke her window. How did they get away so fast? A file folder tucked between the passenger seat and the console attracted her attention. She should take the names of all the people in the crowd. She reached for the door handle and jerked her hand back. The door might have fingerprints.
Frustration joined aggravation. Hayden walked through the crowd to the porch, her plans for the afternoon shattered. The only thing she could do now was wait for the police.
Nineteen
Much to Hayden’s dismay, Officer Barton caught the call. She came out, took one look at Hayden and flipped open her book. “Did anyone see anyone around the car? This isn’t exactly a deserted location.”
Hayden shook her head. “I was back at the pottery shed. It was a shopkeeper who heard the breaking glass.” She looked over the crowd and pointed out the woman standing in the doorway. “That lady, over there. But she told me she never saw anyone near the car.”
“What’s missing?”
“Nothing. That’s what so strange; there’s nothing in the car to take.”
Officer Barton looked at her over the dark tints of her sunglasses. “You know that. But some would-be burglar doesn’t know that.”
Looking at the ground, Hayden cringed. She didn’t need this. Whoever did this caused her more trouble than if they’d taken the Tahoe.
“Did you look inside? No, I can see by the glass you didn’t. Don’t blame you. The Scene of the Crime folks are on their way. They’ll dust the car. Ma’am, I have to tell you, with no witnesses and nothing taken, I doubt they’re going to turn anything up.” Barton backed out of the open truck door, careful not to cut herself on the broken glass. “You got any ideas? Somebody out to get you for any reason?”
“No. No ideas. Thank you for coming out though. Can I call someone to clean up the glass?”
The officer shook her head, “Not ’til the CSI folks finish dusting. If they find prints, they may want to vacuum and see if they can find what broke the window. Doesn’t look like someone tossed a rock. You know, in this heat, if you had even a small knick, it could shatter the window.” Barton slung a fast glance around and lowered her voice. “Do you think it’s related to your other problem?”
“Can’t see how. You’re probably right. It was random or the heat. Maybe someone after the cell phone in the cup holder.” She nodded toward the front console.
By the time the crime scene people finished and the car was cleaned up, Hayden decided to drive straight
home. When she pulled up in her driveway she mentally sized the window and hoped she had cardboard large enough. A rainstorm soaking the seat would really top off her day.
The phone rang loudly as she unlocked the door. Running to catch it before voicemail picked up, she fell over Kevin’s dive gear piled on her living room floor. She rubbed her knee and her hand came away bloody. By the time she hobbled to the phone and picked it up, a dial tone buzzed in her ear. “Damn.” She threw the phone on the couch and tipped herself over its arm onto the cushions where she began to sob loudly.
The phone began to ring again. Groping for it between the cushions, she grabbed it out and said, “What?”
“Ms. Kent, I’m calling from Keys Art Co-op. You forgot your credit card and your cat dishes.”
“Oh, hell. Yes, I did. Thank you for calling.” Hayden fought back new sobs. Talk about a lousy day. “Can I pick them up tomorrow? I don’t think I could make the drive tonight before you close.”
“Oh, don’t worry, that’s why I’m calling. I guess when you ran out this afternoon, the card must have dropped to the floor. The man who found it said he knew you. That’s when I realized you forgot the dishes too. He’s going to drop it by your house. I wanted you to know. He just left here.”
“Who was it?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get his name…”
Hayden couldn’t believe her ears. The woman gave her credit card to someone and didn’t get his name? Where did she think she was, Mayberry? “What do you mean, you didn’t get his name?”
“Well, I don’t remember it. He told me. But he was so charming.”
“Lady,” Hayden began, and then bit off the rest of her response. Instead, she forced herself to speak calmly. “Are you familiar with identity theft? That guy could have racked up hundreds of dollars in charges by now.”