The Island

by Heather Graham

  She did, and hesitated. “It could be them, I guess.”

  Ashley looked disappointed.

  “Who gave you these descriptions?”

  “I started with a sketch done by a forensics artist in Virginia. Then I called the couple and got a little more from them. I didn’t really think you’d be able to get anything from this, but I thought I’d give it a try.”

  “It could be them. But if I had to swear to it, I couldn’t. There’s just not enough there,” Beth said regretfully. “But, please, tell me why the police are so convinced Brad and Sandy had something to do with the Monocos just because the boat’s nameplate was found. There were a lot of people out there.”

  “They were seen dumping something where the plate was found,” Ashley said.

  “You couldn’t tell me that over the phone?” Beth asked.

  Ashley seemed a little uncomfortable.

  “It was found by some boaters who saw Brad throw something in the water.”

  “Some boaters? The only other people out there when we left were Lee Gomez, Matt Albright and Keith Henson.”

  Ashley didn’t reply. “Their names probably aren’t Sandy and Brad,” she said.

  “Their boat was practically a derelict,” Beth reminded her.

  “If you were making money pirating exceptional boats, you wouldn’t go running around in them while you were looking for more boats to pirate.” She hesitated, turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook. “Describe them to me. One at a time. Start with Brad.”

  “All right, I can try,” Beth said. She took her time, being as detailed as she could. She wasn’t surprised when Ashley produced a startling likeness of the man, which became even better once Beth made a few adjustments for her.

  “So that’s pretty close to what he looks like?”

  “Damn close.”

  “Okay. Now let’s do Sandy.”

  When they were done, they had a good portrait of her, too.

  “It’s strange,” Beth said. “They weren’t…unattractive people. In fact, they were both…strangely wholesome looking. But I just realized something about them in these sketches.”

  “What?”

  “They’re…not remarkable in any way. Like his wasn’t the chiseled face of a powerful man you’d recognize anywhere. She wasn’t a raving beauty, she was…cute. I guess that would be the word. They were…”

  “Nondescript,” Ashley offered.

  “Exactly,” Beth said. “They were the kind of couple who could…well, blend in, disappear almost anywhere.”

  “Which is what it seems they’ve done,” Ashley said. “Who knows where they’ve gone.”

  “I take it you know for a fact that they aren’t on or near the island anymore?” Beth said dryly.

  “I’m with Metro-Dade,” Ashley reminded her. “But from what I’ve heard, no. The nameplate was found, but they were already gone. And the Coast Guard looked for them.”

  “How far could they get in their boat?” Beth mused.

  Ashley shrugged.

  “Maybe they found another vessel to steal and ditched the one they were on.”

  “Possibly. But I still don’t think they’re stealing boats and tooling around the seas on them.”

  “Then what the hell would they be doing with them?” Beth asked.

  “Bringing them in to a boatyard, disguising them and selling them. It’s just like a car theft,” Ashley said. “You know, the way cars are stolen here, then sold down in South America.”

  “Ashley, a million people have a Ford or a Chevy. A luxury yacht is far more noticeable.”

  “Bigger risk, harder to really camouflage—but the rewards are worth it.”

  “I see,” Beth murmured, then realized that Ashley was staring over her shoulder, looking uncomfortable.

  “What?” Beth said.

  “Nothing.”

  Beth let out a sigh of aggravation and turned around.

  She started.

  There was Keith Henson. He certainly had a talent for showing up unexpectedly.

  At least he was no longer with Amanda. And with that thought, she couldn’t help but wonder if it had been…fast. Had Amanda gotten him out on her father’s or cousin’s boat?

  She gritted her teeth, angry that she couldn’t seem to get such thoughts out of her head.

  Keith was standing on the dock, talking with the man who was cleaning his catch. When she looked farther down the same dock, she saw that Lee Gomez was there, as well, shirtless, in cutoffs, laughing as he spoke to a couple on a handsome catamaran.

  Her eyes were drawn back to Keith, and she realized that she had only seen him because Ashley had been staring at him.

  “You know him!” Beth accused Ashley, spinning back to stare at her.

  “Who?” Ashley demanded innocently.

  “That’s Keith Henson you’re staring at. You know it, and you know him.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Beth stared at Ashley, convinced that for some reason, undoubtedly connected to police business, she simply wasn’t being truthful.

  “You’ve seen his face on an APB?” Beth demanded a little harshly.

  “No,” Ashley protested.

  Beth frowned, watching her friend. “Ashley…”

  “I don’t know him,” Ashley insisted. “But if he’s your friend, you’re more than welcome to ask him to come over and join us.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Beth, if you want to talk to him alone, go ahead.”

  “Ashley, what the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re an incredible artist, but you’re a lousy liar,” Beth said, trying to control her temper. “Is he a cop?”

  “Who?”

  “Ashley, stop it! Is he a cop?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “So you have seen his face on an APB!”

  “Beth, stop worrying. I was looking at the guy because he’s so damn good-looking. He’d be great to sketch.”

  “You are such a liar.”

  “You’re obviously startled to see him. So go talk to him.”

  “I intend to,” Beth said. She rose and headed straight for the docks. Despite the sunglasses, she knew he saw her coming.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Hey there.” The fisherman who was cleaning his catch looked up, thinking she was talking to him.

  She smiled, then turned to look expectantly at Keith.

  “Friend of yours?” the man asked Keith.

  “Beth Anderson, meet Barney. Barney, Beth. Barney here sails out early and sails back in early,” Keith said pleasantly.

  “Kind of the way you do?” she asked, still smiling and feeling as if her face would crack.

  “So you’re an early bird, too, huh?” Barney asked.

  “He’s a busy man, out at the crack of dawn, places to go—people to see,” Beth told Barney.

  “Sounds like a good life,” Barney said approvingly. Keith was staring at her, thoughts and emotions hidden by the glasses, his expression just as friendly as her own.

  “The best of everything,” Beth suggested. “I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something here?”

  “We were just talking about boats,” Barney said. “Fine ladies, some of them around here. My own Sheba is just a rustic old girl, but I catch all the fish I want.” He grinned nearly a toothless grin. “Sell ’em to old Nick up there.”

  “Good for you. Nick likes to make sure his fish is fresh. Would you like to try the catch of the day, Keith?” she suggested.

  “Sometime. I’ve eaten,” Keith said.

  “Oh, yes. I did see you digging right into that buffet.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, excuse me, then,” Beth said, her voice tightening. “You gentlemen go on and enjoy your conversation. Have a nice day.”

  With that she turned around and walked away. She was suddenly so angry—with him
and herself—that she completely forgot Ashley. She walked straight to her car, got in and drove away.

  KEITH WATCHED BETH LEAVE, frowning. No matter how cool her tone, how casual her words, she was angry, and he knew it.

  And he was sorry.

  Glancing at the tables, he saw Ashley watching as her friend left.

  Then he saw that the couple who had been sitting near the wall of the restaurant in the shade had risen, as well.

  They, too, were headed for the parking lot.

  He frowned. He’d never seen them before. The guy was bald; the woman had really long dark hair.

  He’d never seen them before, he thought again. They were just out for brunch. They’d eaten, and now they were leaving. Odd. He still felt there was something familiar about the pair.

  Disturbed, he hesitated. Lee was going to wonder what the hell was going on, but that was just the way it was going to have to be.

  Keith headed for the parking lot himself. BETH DIDN’T KNOW EXACTLY where she was going as she drove out of the lot. Perhaps it was simple habit, but in a few minutes she was heading toward the club.

  Once she was there, she wondered what she was doing, but since she’d already waved to the guard and parked in her space, she went in. She regretted the fact that she’d walked out on Ashley. What she’d done was incredibly rude, but then again, Ashley wasn’t being honest with her, and she knew it. Ashley knew Keith Henson. Or knew about him. Knew something she wasn’t telling.

  She was about to go straight up to her office, when she heard her name called. Manny.

  “Hey, gorgeous. You’re not working today, are you?”

  “I’m…just working on the Summer Sizzler,” she told him. “Commodore Berry wants it to be so good, so…”

  “You’ve eaten?” he asked her.

  “I’m not particularly hungry.”

  Manny frowned, studying her a little intently. “You look upset.”

  “No…a few things rushing around in my mind, that’s all.”

  “You should get out on the water,” he suggested.

  She laughed. “Being out on the water doesn’t solve everything,” she told him.

  He shrugged. “Out on my boat, the world is a better place. I can smoke my cigars and sip my brandy…watch the sea and sky roll by. What’s better? Lots of space. It puts everything into perspective!”

  “I’m sure.”

  “You come out with me sometime,” he told her gravely. “I promise, you’ll feel much better.”

  “Okay,” she told him. “It’s a date. But I work all week, remember.”

  “Start work early, then leave early. We’ll cast off around four, four-thirty.”

  “All right,” she said.

  “Sometime soon.”

  “Sure, soon.” She smiled, gave him a wave and started up to her office.

  As she climbed the stairs, she wondered again what the hell she was doing there. But she had arrived, and if nothing else, her office was a nice haven.

  She had left it locked for the weekend. She dug in her purse for the keys, opened the door, walked in and tossed her handbag on a chair.

  She closed the door thoughtfully as she reached for the light switch, then turned toward her desk.

  Then she saw it.

  Her heart seemed to stop in her chest.

  Dead center on her desk.

  A skull.

  12

  THE GUARD AT THE LITTLE outpost had seen Keith before. He tried a quick wave, but the fellow frowned and stopped him.

  “Yes?”

  “Hey,” Keith said, offering an engaging smile. “You saw me this morning, remember?”

  “Yes?” The man didn’t smile. He waited.

  “I’m a guest of the Masons.”

  “Your name?”

  “Keith Henson.”

  “I’ll have to call the Masons,” the guard told him.

  It wasn’t as if the man were big and brawny, or as if he had a gun, Keith thought. If he had really needed to get through, he would have just gunned the engine.

  But he wanted to keep his presence here on the level.

  “Go ahead. Amanda is still here, isn’t she?” he asked pleasantly.

  The man stared at him again, then relented. “Yes, Miss Mason is still here. Go on.”

  Apparently Amanda had invited men to the club before. He must have fit the profile of her previous guests.

  He wasn’t sure that pleased him.

  Didn’t matter. He parked his car and hurried toward the front entrance. He hadn’t been able to move quickly enough to see what car the couple from Nick’s had taken from the lot, nor had he managed to follow Beth and discover if the couple had been following her, as well. He wasn’t even sure she was here.

  As he walked in, he was startled when she came running down the stairs and directly into him.

  “You!” she said, backing away as if he had suddenly become poison. He was startled. She wasn’t staring at him with the simmering anger she had afforded him just a little while ago. She was staring at him as if he were some kind of heinous beast.

  “What?” he demanded sharply.

  “Henry!” she called, and he realized that one of the waiters from the restaurant had apparently heard them, and was hovering near the arch that separated the foyer from the restaurant.

  “Yes, Beth?”

  “Call the police. Now.”

  Keith’s heart sank. What the hell had she found out about him—or what did she think she knew?

  “What is it?” he demanded.

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I just found a skull on my desk—another skull—and look who’s hanging around. Again. Henry, call the police,” she repeated.

  “Yes, Beth, immediately,” Henry said.

  “A skull?” Keith said, staring at her hard. Then he walked past her, heading up the stairs.

  “Where do you think you’re going? Don’t you dare touch a thing. The police are on their way!”

  He ignored her. She followed him up the stairs, nearly touching him, she was so close. But he continued to ignore her, reaching her office, stopping in the doorway.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  “On the desk.”

  He walked a few feet into the office. There was nothing on the desk that didn’t belong there.

  “Where?” he repeated.

  She stood next to him and stared. “This is impossible!” she exclaimed.

  By then they could hear sirens. Henry had obviously dialed 911.

  “I’m telling you, it was there.”

  Footsteps were pounding up the stairway.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Keith turned to see Ben Anderson striding into Beth’s office. Several other men were behind him.

  Ben gave Keith a seriously suspicious glare and hurried to Beth’s side. “What is it? What happened?”

  “There was a skull on my desk,” Beth said heatedly.

  “What?”

  “There was a skull on my desk,” she repeated.

  Keith saw the emotions flickering through Ben Anderson’s eyes. Dismay, worry, agitation—and a sense of weariness and annoyance.

  “Not again,” Ben said softly.

  Beth glanced at her brother. “Dammit, Ben. What is the matter with you? When have I ever been a scared-of-herown-shadow, paranoid storyteller?”

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded of Keith, as if it somehow had to be the other man’s presence that had brought this on.

  “Guest of the Masons,” he said softly.

  “All right, what’s going on?”

  This time, the question came from a uniformed police officer, who parted the gathering crowd on the landing and came into the office.

  The officer, a man of about fifty with clear green eyes and a very slight paunch, looked around, scowling. “Where’s the emergency?”

  “There was a skull on my desk,” Beth said flatly.

  “A skull?” the officer said.

  Beth
sighed deeply. “A skull, Officer. A human skull.”

  “Where is it?”

  “It was there, now it’s gone.”

  “I see.”

  “I swear to you, it was there.”

  “All right, folks. Clear out. Go back to what you were doing. This little lady and I need to have a talk,” the officer said.

  “I’m her brother. Perhaps I can help,” Ben said. Beth looked indignant at the soothing tone of his voice, Keith noticed.

  “Her brother. All right, the rest of you, please…” the officer suggested firmly. “Unless anyone else saw a skull?” he queried.

  Some of the people who had gathered began to head down the stairs again.

  Snatches of conversation rose to the office.

  “Someone is playing a joke.”

  “It’s not that close to Halloween.”

  “Hey, didn’t we have a bunch of skulls as Halloween props?”

  “Who are you?” the officer demanded when Keith remained.

  “Keith Henson.”

  “Are you a brother, too? Husband? Boyfriend?”

  “I’m concerned,” Keith said.

  “Look,” Beth insisted, drawing the man’s attention angrily. “There was a skull on my desk. Can’t you look for fingerprints or DNA, or something?”

  The officer looked wearier than ever.

  “Miss…this sounds like a case of mischief to me, and that’s all.”

  Beth appeared outraged. “You mean that you’re not going to do anything?”

  “I’m not sure what I can do,” the officer said. “Look, you saw a skull, but it isn’t there now. Your friends are probably right. Someone is playing a trick on you. Someone down there is laughing right now. Yes, I’d probably arrest ’em for it, if I could. This is malicious mischief. But I don’t know who did it, and I have more important things to be doing than trying to find out.”

  “There was a skull on my desk,” Beth said again.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t there now,” the officer said quietly.

  “So that’s it?”

  “What do you want him to do, Beth?” Ben asked in a conciliatory tone.

  She stared furiously at her brother, then at the officer. She didn’t even seem to remember that he was there, Keith thought—either that or she was still so suspicious of him that she didn’t even want to acknowledge him.

  “I want to file a report,” Beth said. “I want someone to do something. My office had been locked. I cannot believe that I saw what might have been a human skull on my desk and you don’t intend to do a thing about it.”