She greeted me with a tight hug and had a pat for Captain Jack, something the old straight-laced Detective Roxy would have never done. Goes to show you how much small-town America can soften you. She and Detective Brandle shared a look, and it amazed me how in one second they were able to silently convey the gravity of the situation, and with one glance in my direction, sympathy too.
“What’s up? What’s going on?” I asked the two of them. I had been at crime scenes with each one of these guys in the past, but this was different and not just because the crime had happened in my home.
They shared that same look and I wasn’t sure if they were going to answer me.
Luckily for them, Mrs. Birdie Jackson decided at that moment to make an entrance, or try to. Sorry, make that Mayor Jackson. She may be the new mayor, but to me she’d always be “Mrs. J.” and she was still as nosy as could be, if not worse. She had a police scanner in one hand and her other was gripping her peacock blue business coat closed as the wind from the harbor picked up and whipped the fabric around her ankles.
“What do we have here? What’s going on?” she asked the Silent One. I wasn’t sure he was going to answer her and knew Mrs. J. wouldn’t wait long before she just moved past him and headed down our way.
“Honey girl, you okay over there?” she hollered down the dock to me.
I gave a curt wave in her direction and turned back to the two detectives. Officer Kevin ducked back out from my houseboat and said the house was secure.
“Just the one,” he said, which I knew referred to the one dead body. Detective Roxy reached over and tightened her arm around me.
“I’m okay,” I said, proud of how calm I sounded. Truthfully my heart was pounding. I gave a silent thanks to my Nan, AKA my guardian Angel, that Finn hadn’t been found dead on board. Of course, I still had no clue where he was. Could he be inside the bait shop? I turned to look at the wood-sided shack of Murphy’s Bait and Tackle at the far-end of the marina. Surely, Finn would have run over here by now with all this commotion, yes? I scanned the area for any sign of my husband but came up empty. The boat he regularly captained stood bobbing solo in its slip as well. My eyes naturally drifted to the apartment above the bait shop. When I first met him, Finn lived above Murphy’s. He had remodeled the 1950s apartment for the most part, and it was a great little space. Hardwood floors, concrete countertops, but no bathtub. After we married, we lived in that little apartment for a short while, while Finn remodeled the houseboat.
“The thing is, Ziva, we got a call yesterday,” Detective Roxy said drawing my attention back to her.
“A call? From who?” I looked between the two detectives.
“From the bureau. An old case,” Detective Brandle replied.
“Bureau? Like the FBI?” I asked, still not sure where this was headed.
“Exactly. There had been a break in a cold case and the FBI wanted to talk to the original players,” Detective Roxy motioned to Detective Brandle.
“One of your old cases,” I said, pointing at Detective Brandle.
“Yes,” he replied and then looked away. Detective Roxy copied him. I didn’t like that neither one of them would meet my eyes.
“Okay, one of you guys has to spill it, because I don’t know where this is headed,” I said to them.
“Maybe I can help there,” said a man who I hadn’t even heard approach. He was half a person taller than me, with polished shoes and a navy windbreaker. I didn’t need to read the back to know it said FBI. He eyed me in the way authorities had a tendency to when they thought you were guilty of something. I don’t know if it’s a testament to my bad luck, but I was used to the glare.
“Special Agent Cooper,” the agent said, extending his hand. Captain Jack growled. I didn’t blame him.
“Ziva Hudson,” I replied, shaking his hand a bit firmer than I normally would. I wanted to let this man know that I was no pushover.
“It’s true, Finnigan got married now, did he? Thought the last woman ruined him,” he smiled to himself and left me wondering what he meant. I suppose Justine, Finn’s ex-girlfriend and my former archenemy, was a bit of a psycho, if the whole keying my car thing (well, Aria’s car) and stalking Finn was any indicator. Thankfully she was happily on to husband number seven now. Ironically, my ex-fiancé. They were honestly perfect for one another.
I shook those thoughts free and turned my attention back to Agent Cooper. “How long have you known Finn?” I asked. It was obvious that he did and that he didn’t think much of him.
Agent Cooper gave a chuckle. “Longer than you,” he replied with a smirk while staring at me with a mix of amusement and arrogance.
I wanted to punch him even as my stomach was dropping. Finn’s past. I knew he had one, and it hadn’t been all innocent, but I didn’t think it had been that bad. Definitely not FBI bad. I stared open-mouthed at the agent and tried to think of something witty to say back, but the truth was I was at a loss for words. Well, appropriate words. The jerk.
Captain Jack started circling Agent Cooper. I swooped down to pick him up afraid the pup might pee on his shoes. Then again, maybe I should’ve let him.
The agent plowed on. “I understand that you know the detectives here, but I have some questions I need to ask you in private. Right now. I’m assuming you’re available and if you’re not, you need to be.”
Well then. That settled it. I did not like this man one bit. He was bossy and authoritative, and I hated authority, which is why I was a girl boss. It took every ounce of common sense I possessed to remind myself that Finn was in trouble, one way or another, and I had better play nice. Who knew what favor I was going to have to ask Mr. Special Agent here in the future? Special Agent Cooper stared back at me, the amusement absent in his expression, waiting for my response. I shivered, pretending it was from the spring breeze that was now whipping up in earnest. The boats in the marina swayed in their slips.
Always one for perfect timing, Mrs. J. joined us just then. Officer Kevin shouted an apology down the dock, and Detective Roxy waved him away.
“One of y’all better tell me what’s going on here. This here is my town. You don’t keep secrets from the mayor.” Mrs. J.’s comment was mostly directed at Detective Roxy, but it was Agent Cooper that answered her.
“This here,” he said in a mocking tone, “is a federal investigation. You’re going to have to—”
“I don’t have to do anything, mister, but you need to get some manners. When the mayor asks you what’s going on, you answer her. Who’s your mama?” Mrs. J. was shaking her finger in Agent Cooper’s face, and I had to suppress the smile that threatened to spill across my face. Agent Cooper better pray that he wasn’t born within a twenty-mile radius of Port Haven, or Mrs. J. would know his mama. And you could bet all the cornbread in the county she’d be calling her. When Agent Cooper didn’t answer, Mrs. J. said, “We’ve got the Azalea Gala kicking off this weekend. We ain’t got time for no federal investigation.” The Azalea Gala was Mrs. J.’s inaugural event and it really was a great idea. Our little town was known for the colorful blooms, already attracting tourists from Savannah and coastal South Carolina. Mrs. J.’s idea was brilliant, hosting a three-day festival complete with the crowning of the Azalea Queen and her court. Of course, Mrs. J. had balked at the idea of including a baking competition, seeing the last one she entered had landed her as the prime suspect in a murder investigation. I guess I couldn’t fault her for that.
“So, you see what I’m sayin’? You gotta be to gettin’!” Mrs. J. gave the shooing motion with her hands, propelling Agent Cooper back down the dock. “I don’t have time for this mess. I tell you what,” Mrs. J. was saying to herself.
“Ziva, are you joining me?” The agent asked over his shoulder.
I looked back at my house and at the crew waiting to process the crime scene before saying, “I’ll be right there.” Then I turned my attention to my detective friends, “You two want to give me a heads up what this is all about?”
<
br /> “The skinny?” Detective Roxy asked. She bit her bottom lip, removing a section of Candy Apple lip gloss in the process.
I nodded quickly, knowing my time was short.
It was Detective Brandle who answered, holding out his arms for me to hand over Captain Jack at the same time. “Finn and his buddies were arrested for a robbery a decade ago. A big robbery. But evidence came up missing before the FBI could make their case, and well, now they can.”
I blinked a couple of times, not sure if I understood what he was saying. If Finn was a millionaire, it was news to me.
Officer Kevin joined us. “Real quick, do you know the victim?” Kevin used his thumb to motion back to my houseboat. He had an orange sawhorse under his arm. I remembered they used them before to block off the dock at a previous crime scene. The sawhorses served to keep curious onlookers from accidentally finding their way into a crime scene. As far as I could tell, it worked.
“No, I’ve never seen him,” I said and then walked away to meet Agent Cooper. That of course was a lie.
2
“You honestly think my husband would murder a man, right next to me, and I wouldn’t hear anything?”
We were sitting inside Sweet Thangs, my cinnamon roll and chai latte sitting completely untouched (a crime in and of itself) and I had already had it with Agent Cooper’s assumptions.
“No, I don’t. So, what is it you’re not telling me?” Agent Cooper asked, his voice steely.
My mouth snapped shut and I glared something fierce at my table companion.
“You don’t think that it’s suspicious that you wake up next to a dead body, in your bed, and you have no idea how he got there?” It was Agent Cooper’s turn to be incredulous.
I threw my hands up, which were thankfully squeaky clean along with my shirt courtesy of Sweet Thangs manager, Marigold. Silky material with belled sleeves and a scoop neck wasn’t my style, but fashion was the least of my worries at the moment. I was just thankful to have a clean shirt on and that I was able to scrub up some more in the employees’ bathroom. Officer Kevin also did me a favor by retrieving my purse and cell phone from the houseboat. I felt a little more put together, but not much.
“What do you know about Finnigan’s past?” Agent Cooper asked.
I had been waiting for this question. “Not a lot,” I replied, which was the truth. “But I know he has a good heart and he’s a good person.”
“There’s a winning endorsement,” Agent Cooper mumbled while taking a sip of his black coffee. Even I had to admit that it sounded weak, but I really didn’t know much about Finn’s past. His father had dotted in and out of his life, his mother was even more unstable, and Finn kept getting into trouble until Mr. Murphy came along and set him straight. I decided to elaborate and say just as much to Agent Cooper.
He followed up with, “Do you have a relationship with his sister?”
That question caught me off guard and Agent Cooper knew it. The agent must’ve really done his homework to ask about Katherine.
“Yes,” I said, measuring my words. “She pops in from time to time, or we meet her for lunch.” More like she serves us fried pickles and beer at the bar she works at, but same difference. Kat was a bit of a firecracker. Whip smart and feisty. Men had a tendency to fall at her feet, and she stepped on them. Instead of pouring her brains into books and studying, she poured herself into her work and the drinks she served five days a week at Red’s.
The agent brought up a picture on his phone and placed it on the table for me to view. Four high school boys, looking like trouble, stared back at the camera. I spotted Finn right away. He was on the far right, his hands tucked into his shorts pockets, trouble-making grin on his face. My heart pounded a little harder as I realized the kid next to him, Cody, was the same murdered man from this morning. He may be about 20 years younger, but he had the same light features and curly hair. A total surfer dude. The other two boys’ identities were lost to me.
I pointed Finn out to Agent Cooper but told him I didn’t know the rest of the boys.
“Take a good look. Are you sure no one else looks familiar?”
I took a second look but gave the same answer.
“And you’re certain you don’t know the victim on the boat.”
“Not a clue.”
Here’s the thing: I wasn’t exactly sure why I was keeping Cody’s identity a secret. Agent Cooper obviously knew who he was, but it seemed important to me to feign ignorance. Maybe it’s because Cody had been the best computer hacker this side of the Mason Dixon. Seeing that included all of Chicago, Tampa and New York City, that’s saying something. In fact, Cody had helped me out on a case in Tampa last year, hacking into a plastic surgeon’s personal computer for me. Of course, back then I didn’t know him personally or even by name. Finn had brokered the deal, but Cody had introduced himself after Finn and I got married, and he trusted me with his secret. It felt like identifying Cody would implicate me in far more than a name and face match.
“Here’s what I think happened,” Agent Cooper said. “Finn’s on the run. That guy on your houseboat? He was a hired hand, paid to kill Finn for his past crimes, only Finn got the jump on him.”
I actually might have snorted; I know I laughed. “So wait, you’re saying Finn killed a hitman, in our bed, left me there with the body and fled off into the night?” I dabbed the corner of my eyes with my napkin, more for show than actually having any tears from laughing. “That’s impressive, and I know you don’t believe that for a second.”
“Just like how you don’t know anyone else in this photo,” Agent Cooper responded.
Touché.
I looked up at Agent Cooper and met his eyes. He thought I was full of it. That made two of us. We were at an impasse.
As if sensing the turn of conversation, my cell phone miraculously rang. I looked down at the unknown number and answered it, welcoming the interruption.
“Ziva Hudson,” I said, standing up and walking away from the table.
Agent Cooper gave an amused laugh at the sound of my surname. I resisted the urge to flip him off. He had a serious beef with my hubby and I had no idea what it was.
“Mrs. Hudson. Nile Anders. Your friend Aria told me to call you right away,” the man on the phone said.
Bless my bestie. News travels fast in a small town. Leave it to her to think to call an attorney. Heaven knows I needed one.
“Awesome, yes, thank you so much for calling me.”
“I understand you’re having an official meeting at the moment,” Mr. Anders said.
“Mm-hmm,” I said by way of confirmation. How in the world would Mr. Anders have known that? I scanned the bakery, smiling the second I spotted my bestie outside the front window. Aria was parked out front in her hot little sports car, just waiting until I was free to pounce.
“Well as an attorney, I’m going to advise you to stop talking at this moment. Let the authorities know that you’ve retained legal counsel, that is, if that is your wish?”
“That would be wonderful,” I said, turning around and smiling while saying the words to Mr. Special Agent. My amusement was lost on him. “And I think I’ll take you up on your advice.”
“Excellent. Let me see what I can do with my schedule and then I’ll phone you back. We should meet sometime today.”
“Okay, sounds great.” I also thought it must be nice to have Delgado as a surname. Aria’s husband commanded respect. People fell over themselves to please him (hence the early morning phone call from the best attorney in Savannah). Regardless of Mr. Anders’ motives, I was pleased to have retained him.
I clicked off with the attorney and put my phone in my purse.
“Well it just so happens that was my attorney. I’ve been advised to cut this little conversation short and he’ll take it up from here.” I waited a beat for Agent Cooper to speak, and when he didn’t, I picked up my drink, turned on my heel, and walked out of Sweet Thangs. Usually one of my favorite places, I was more tha
n happy to put the candy-cane stripped columns behind me.
The second I was outside, Aria waved for me to join her, and I thought that was an excellent plan.
“What’s up with the shirt?” Aria asked me.
Leave it to my bestie to question my wardrobe choices as opposed to the pressing matter at hand. “Fashion emergency,” I responded, getting settled in her car and clicking on my seatbelt. The movement made my shoulder ache.
“What’s wrong?” Aria asked.
“Nothing. I just slept on it wrong.” I rubbed the pain away.
Aria handed me a fresh chai latte, iced this time, and a box of chocolates. The Valentine’s Day clearance sticker was still plastered on the front, but I didn’t care. In my opinion, February 15th was the best holiday of all—all the chocolates go on sale. Nothing sweeter than that.
I peeled off the cellophane and dug into a heart-shaped chocolate. Raspberry cream melted into my mouth. I took a second to savor it before coming back down to reality.
“Better?” Aria asked while maneuvering into traffic.
“Slightly.” I popped another chocolate into my mouth. Double chocolate this time. Even better. I would’ve offered Aria one, but she’d just as soon eat dirt. That is, if dirt could be considered a health food.
“How did you hear?” I asked Aria, referring to my morning.
“Mrs. J., who else? I guess she figured if anyone would know what had happened, it would be me.”
“Smart thinking. You were first on my list to call.” I went for my third chocolate. Hazelnut, which was also delicious.
“So, what is going on?” Aria asked.
I took a shaky breath before attempting to speak, something completely out of character.
Aria noticed. “Are you okay?”
What was it with me? I was usually so composed, even when dealing with dead bodies. I suppose it was a big indicator as to just how big and upsetting this morning had been, given the fact that I thought the victim had been Finn and that he was still missing.
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