Apparent Wind (The Forgotten Coast Florida Suspense Series Book 7)

by Dawn Lee McKenna

  Maggie nodded and they both sat down. Dwight took the seat next to Maggie.

  “Marisol was your girlfriend?” Maggie asked.

  He nodded, swallowing. “Yes. For the last few months, although we were acquaintances for a while before that.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “At a party, for a mutual friend,” he said. “Last spring.”

  Maggie jotted that down. “She worked with you as well?”

  “She helped me out here and there,” he said. “Helped plan dinners and parties and things for business associates, helped me with PR and stuff.”

  “What kind of PR?”

  He shrugged slightly. “I own some food trucks that do very well, a couple of small restaurants. Marisol helped with advertising, getting us in the paper, getting reviews, that sort of thing.” He coughed into his hand. Maggie couldn’t tell if he was choking up or just had a dry throat. “She was good at it, good with people. She was good for business.”

  “How about your other business?” Maggie asked. “Was she good for that, too?”

  He looked at her, his slightly hooded eyes expressionless. “I don’t have any other businesses,” he said quietly.

  “You have two convictions for selling narcotics,” she replied.

  “That was then, this is now,” he answered calmly. “There are easier ways to make money. Ways that don’t get you thrown in jail.”

  “So you’re out of that line of work?”

  “Yes, I am,” he said. “You probably don’t believe that, but there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  “I don’t really have a reason not to believe it,” Maggie said, which wasn’t actually true. Boudreaux didn’t lie to her much, at least not about anything related to her work. And Tampa PD didn’t seem to think Toby Mann had retired. “Where were you Wednesday night and Thursday?”

  “Home. In Tampa, I mean,” he said.

  “Can anybody verify that for us?”

  “Well, I mean, I saw friends,” he said. “I did have a grand re-opening, too. On Wednesday evening. There were newspapers there. I was in the paper.”

  “Okay,” Maggie said. “Can I ask why you’re here?”

  “Well, to talk to you,” he answered.

  “It’s a five hour drive up from Tampa,” Maggie said. “Why didn’t you just return my calls?”

  He looked at her for a moment and swallowed before answering. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but I thought maybe you’d work a little harder at putting away the person who did this if someone was here. You know, somebody that knew her.”

  “Her ex-husband lives here,” she said. “Were you aware of that?”

  “Yeah, she told me about him a long time ago,” he said. “I also know you arrested him for killing her.”

  “The charge was suspicion of murder, Mr. Mann,” she said. “That’s all it is at this point.”

  “Look, I’m not from a small town, but I know how things tend to work, okay?” he said. “He’s a local guy. You’re local people. I’m not saying he’d automatically get a pass. I just want things to be done right for Marisol.”

  “Do you have some reason to think her ex-husband would have hurt her, Mr. Mann?” Maggie asked.

  He shrugged. “Well, I mean, he’s her ex. They have a weird history, back and forth sometimes, you know? Marisol said he was still hung up on her.”

  “Did you know she was coming here?”

  “No. Not until I heard what happened.”

  “And how did you hear about that?”

  “It was on the news, online,” he said. “I saw it Thursday night, after I got back from the grand opening.”

  “Yet you didn’t return my calls on Friday,” she said.

  “Look, I was upset,” he said. “I also knew you’d probably look at me, because we were together, and because of my history. Which is just that: history.”

  Maggie didn’t buy that he was unaware Marisol was in Apalach. She’d told Axel and Boudreaux both that she was here on behalf of her boyfriend.

  “Does it bother you that she was here?” she asked, watching his eyes.

  He shrugged again. She was tired of him shrugging. “Because her ex is here? Look, I don’t want to look like an ass or anything, but she and I weren’t that invested in each other, you know what I mean?”

  “No.”

  Toby looked at Dwight, then back at Maggie. “Probably easier for a guy to understand. I mean, Marisol was a beautiful woman. We had a good time together, we worked well together. But I wasn’t in love with her or anything. It’s not like we were thinking of getting married, you know?”

  “So it was a casual relationship,” Maggie said.

  “Well, yeah. More or less.”

  “And yet you drove all the way up here to make sure she gets some justice,” Maggie said flatly.

  “Yeah. I’m not saying I didn’t care about her,” he said. “She deserved better than what she got.”

  Maggie chewed at the corner of her lip for a moment. “What about her previous boyfriend, Gavin Betancourt? What do you know about him?”

  “That jerk,” Troy said, his lip curling. “Another example of her deserving better.”

  “How’s that?”

  “He treated her like crap,” Troy answered. “Rich guy, thinks he can do what he wants. She left him for me. He slapped her around.”

  “I see,” Maggie said.

  Dwight looked over at Maggie. “Hey, uh, can I talk to you a second outside?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, standing. “We’ll be back in just a minute, Mr. Mann.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  Dwight followed Maggie out into the hall. They moved down from the door a few feet, and Maggie turned to face him. “What’s up?”

  “Well, the autopsy,” Dwight said. “Larry says she had some injuries, you know, older ones, not from the other night.”

  “Like what?”

  “One was a fractured wrist. Didn’t look like it had been set,” Dwight answered. “Near as he could say, it was a few months old.”

  Maggie nodded. “Okay. What do you think about this guy?”

  “I think he’s slick,” Dwight answered. “I can’t stand slick.”

  “You think anything he’s saying is true?”

  “I doubt he tells the truth much, but this thing about Betancourt beating her, that might be true, huh?”

  “Maybe,” Maggie answered. “Did you have any luck tracking him down this morning?”

  “No, his secretary said he’s still out on some boat trip,” Dwight answered. “She’s real polite and all, but I can kindly drop dead while I wait for him to get back to me at his convenience.”

  “Okay,” Maggie said. “Why don’t you ask him a few questions when we go back in?”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you,” she answered. “Training.”

  “I think you asked him everything I would ask,” he said.

  Maggie started back toward the room. “Well, think up something else,” she said, as Dwight followed. “Ask him where he gets his hair cut.”

  “Girly World, most likely,” Dwight mumbled.

  She opened the door, and Toby looked up as she and Dwight took their seats again.

  “Uh, Mr. Mann?” Dwight started. Toby looked at him, looking surprised that Dwight was actually addressing him. “How long did you say you and Ms. Corzo knew each other?”

  “Well, we met back in the spring,” he said. “But we got together a few months ago. Late August, early September?”

  “And she left Mr. Betancourt for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Because he hit her?”

  “Yeah. Plus he just treated her like crap,” Tobu answered.

  “How did he feel about her leaving him?”

  Toby hesitated before answering. “Look, he’s a pretty powerful guy, okay? I’m not looking to get nailed because I said he might have wanted to kill her or something.”

  “But abusers are
kinda territorial, right? They get pretty upset when the women they’re abusing leave ’em,” Dwight answered. “Did he come after her, try to get her back?”

  “Not that I know about,” Toby answered. “I would have done something about that.”

  Dwight nodded noncommittally and looked over at Maggie. “I can’t think of anything else right this minute,” he said.

  Mann sat up straighter in his chair, looking like he’d be happy to be done. “When can I get Mari’s things?”

  “Any effects that weren’t needed for the investigation have been turned over to Marisol’s family,” Maggie said.

  Mann looked uncomfortable, and at the same time like he was trying hard not to look uncomfortable. “Well, okay, that’s cool,” he said. “As long as everything’s taken care of.”

  Maggie chewed her lip a moment. “Did Marisol have a cell phone, Mr. Mann?”

  He seemed surprised by the question. “Well, yeah. You don’t have it?”

  “What kind of phone is it?” Maggie asked, ignoring the question.

  He pulled a black iPhone 6 out of his blazer pocket. “I got her one just like mine,” he said, and Maggie sensed he was proud of that. “Put her on my plan, because her credit was crap. I tried to help her out, you know? I even put her on one of my credit cards, for the business.”

  Maggie nodded thoughtfully, wrote that down. “How long will you be in town, Mr. Mann?” she asked.

  “A few days, at least,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep me updated, you know? I’m staying at the Water Street Hotel.”

  “Which room?”

  “I don’t know, I haven’t checked in yet,” he answered. “But you can get me on my cell, 24/7.” He managed to look apologetic. “I’ll answer this time.”

  Maggie stood up, Dwight quickly following suit. Maggie held her hand out to Mann.

  “I think that’s all for now, Mr. Mann,” she said.

  He stood up, gave her hand a quick shake. “Okay.”

  A few minutes later, Maggie and Dwight watched through the break room window as Mann walked to a dark blue car, got in and drove away.

  “What kind of car is that, Dwight?”

  “Hyundai,” he answered right away. “Elantra.” He leaned closer to the window, craned his neck to watch Toby pull out of the parking lot. “South Carolina plates,” he said. “Think it’s a rental?”

  “Why would he rent a car just to drive from Tampa?” Maggie asked. “His DMV says he owns a 2014 BMW.”

  “Kinda odd,” Dwight mused. “Car in the shop, maybe?”

  “Too neat,” Maggie said quietly. “Do me a favor, and check on the restaurant thing, the grand opening or whatever.”

  “Okay,” he said. “What’s the deal with her phone?” Dwight asked.

  “Toby Mann wasn’t in Marisol’s contact list or recent calls,” she answered. “Don’t you find that odd?”

  “I do,” he said. “But the phone we found in her room’s a Galaxy.”

  “Exactly. So why does she have two phones, and where’s the other one?”

  “Reckon we need it,” he said. “Reckon he thinks maybe he does, too.”

  “Maybe. Unless he already has it,” she said quietly. “I also didn’t see a credit card in her wallet, other than her secured card.”

  “What are you thinking about that?”

  “I think she didn’t want to use his phone or his card while she was here,” Maggie said.

  “If she was here trying to work him a deal, why wouldn’t she want him to know she was here?” Dwight asked. “You think maybe on account of Axel?”

  “Maybe,” Maggie said. “But even so, she’s trying to set something up for him with Boudreaux, so he knows she’s here, right? And he said he knew Axel lives here.”

  “Kinda hinky.”

  “Yeah,” Maggie said.

  “All right, well, I’ll go see about the grand opening thing, then maybe try to find out about the rental car. Anything else?”

  “Check back with me after,” she said, distracted. “I see Mike’s car out front, so I’m headed over to tech to see what he got from the scene.”

  “Okeedoke,” Dwight answered, and they each went their own way in the hall.

  Maggie opened the door to the small, two room crime tech lab. Mike was at a counter in the front room, making notes in a brown folder. He looked up and smiled as Maggie came in and shut the door.

  “Hey, Maggie,” he said.

  “Hey, Mike,” she answered. “What are you doing here on a Saturday?”

  “Ah, I’m behind. Thought I’d catch up a little,” he said. “You here about Corzo?”

  “Yeah, anything good?”

  “Not really,” he said. He reached underneath the counter and pulled out a deep wide drawer, lifted out a clear box, and set it on the counter. Inside were several pieces of evidence in labelled clear bags.

  Maggie stepped over to the counter as he started going through the bags.

  “Got a pair of her panties, no semen or anything on them, but that’s not really a biggie, since we recovered that from her body,” he said.

  “Axel?”

  “Yeah, but we already knew that, right?” He held up another bag. “Ton of cigarette butts from a soda can on the nightstand. I guess that whole non-smoking thing was a wash. Marlboros with Axel’s saliva, Newports with hers. Here’s one thing, though,” he said. He flipped through the bags and pulled out another. “Lots more Newports. Recovered them down on the dock, over on the Boss end of the hotel.”

  “How many?” Maggie asked. It looked like a lot.

  “Eight,” he answered. “All fresh, so I’m thinking they’re from that night. I haven’t tested these ones for saliva yet, but I’m betting they’ll match the ones from the room. They’re all smoked down to the nub.”

  “If she was comfortable smoking up in the room, why was she outside smoking?” The question was more to herself.

  “Got me.”

  “Any Marlboros out there?”

  “Nope.” He held up another bag. “Found some credit card receipts in the bathroom trash can, and a handful of those wipes you ladies use to take off your makeup.”

  Maggie didn’t, but she didn’t correct him. “Do you have your pictures from the scene?”

  “Yep, right here.” He pulled the folder over. Inside was a manila file folder. “Took quite a few, both outside and in the room.”

  “Can you sign this out for me?” Maggie asked. “I’m gonna work on it at home later. I need to spend some time with my kids.”

  “You got it,” he answered.

  Maggie signed the case file out, then walked back to her office. She grabbed her purse and phone, then stopped and put down the file, looked up a number, and dialed. It was answered on the first ring.

  “Thank you for calling the Water Street Hotel & Marina, this is Peggy. May I help you?”

  “Hi, Peggy, this is Maggie Redmond,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, hey. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” Maggie answered. “Can you tell me if you have a guest by the name of Toby Mann registered?”

  “Oh, is this a police thing?”

  “Just following up on something,” Maggie said.

  “Ok, one sec,” the woman answered. “Yes, we do.”

  “When did he check in?” Maggie asked.

  “Well, check-in’s not until three, but he’s reserved starting today,” Peggy said.

  “Did he say how long he was staying?”

  “It says three days,” Peggy answered.

  “Okay, thanks,” Maggie said. “What room are you putting him in?”

  “Three-twelve. Overlooking the marina.”

  Maggie thanked the woman and disconnected, then headed out of the office.

  MAGGIE WAS SLICING mushrooms for their salad when she heard the screen door scrape shut. A moment later, one of Wyatt’s arms slipped around her waist.

  “I thought you were playing corn hole with the kids,
” she said.

  “I was, until I tripped over Stoopid for the seventeenth time,” Wyatt answered. “Besides, while the kids are occupied, I wanted to see hear how it went at your Dad’s yesterday.”

  Maggie swallowed, slid a handful of mushrooms into the salad bowl. “As well as can be expected, I guess,” she said.

  He waited. Maggie had always admired that about him, the patience he had for someone else to figure out what they wanted to say.

  “I guess I just assumed that Boudreaux and my mother had some kind of affair,” she said. “But it was just a one-night stand.”

  Wyatt was quiet for a moment. “Okay, so that is kind of surprising,” he finally said.

  “She was Boudreaux’s alibi when Holden Crawford turned up missing,” she said quietly.

  Wyatt drummed his fingers on her stomach for a moment before answering. “Not Gray.”

  “No,” Maggie answered. “She was losing her virginity with Boudreaux when Crawford got killed.”

  “Okay,” Wyatt said. “But does that make it better or worse?”

  Maggie thought about that, although she’d thought about it a lot already. “I guess it makes it better, if anything. The idea of them having a relationship really bothered me.”

  They were quiet again. Except for the sound of her knife blade gliding softly along the cutting board, the kitchen was silent.

  “Try not to take this the wrong way,” she said.

  “See, I never like anything you say after that,” he said.

  “I know. It’s just…I’m angry with her for cheating on my father, and I’m angry that they lied to me for so long.” Maggie stalled for a moment by dumping the rest of the mushrooms into the salad and starting in on a red pepper. “But I have to admit that I’m a little jealous, too.”

  Wyatt took a moment to answer. “Of her?”

  “Yeah,” Maggie said quietly.

  “I could do with a little explanation,” he said.

  “It’s not that I had any romantic feelings toward him,” she said quickly. “I mean, I’m sure I had a little bit of a crush. Why wouldn’t I? You said that yourself.”

  “Yeah,” he said cautiously.