Death By Blue Water (A Hayden Kent Mystery Book 1) (10 page)

Seventeen

Hayden chewed her lip and watched the paramedics load Elena into the ambulance. Janice slid into her patrol car and followed the vehicle in the direction of Fisherman’s Hospital. So Elena was Janice’s sister. This whole affair was becoming incestuous. First she finds out Kevin’s brother lives in the Keys, then she discovers Kevin’s parents are clients. Now it turns out the cop who interviewed her when she found the body is sister to Richard’s wife. She shook her head. Grant had mentioned the relationship, but it didn’t register until now.

Hayden walked back into the Recording Office. Lost in thought, she went to the media room and sat down next to Mallory. Hayden had a love/hate relationship with the police for as long as she could remember. When her parents were struck head on while crossing the Seven Mile Bridge, the cops took so long to get there that her parents died. Then as a paralegal, she interacted frequently with law enforcement. Gradually she’d developed a grudging respect for the boys in blue, or whatever color their uniforms were by agency. Her experiences finding dead bodies, first on the Turnpike and now on the Humboldt, were good and bad. They had been solicitous about the Turnpike body and suspicious of the Humboldt one.

Drumming her fingers on the table, she let out a hiss. “Mallory, I’m a paralegal and a diver. I am a trained researcher. I interview clients frequently. I swear Janice had no idea why I’m a suspect. If she did, she’s a great actress, and she wasn’t in a position to act.”

“I wondered about that. Are you so sure you’re a suspect?”

Hayden glanced around the room and suddenly felt like she was in that old Paine Webber commercial. Everyone seemed to be leaning in to hear her conversation.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ll tell you all about it over some food.”

Hayden brought her friend up to date while the two ate fish sandwiches on the deck of The Galley. The restaurant’s location, overlooking a lagoon that led ultimately to the ocean, was the perfect cover. As usual, the locals ate at the bar and the tourists took the outside tables. Hayden turned her face up to let the sun warm her cheeks. “I want to be under water.” She sighed and finished off the last bite.

“Not after that lunch,” Mallory said. “But Hayd, I do have a criminal practice. It used to be traffic tickets and Ed did occasional manslaughter and homicide. But that’s changed. He’s partnered with his brother in Key West. Our practice is mostly criminal.”

Tilting her head and shielding her eyes from the water glare, Hayden looked at her friend. “Are you suggesting I employ Ed?”

“No, I am suggesting you listen to me. I don’t think you’re gonna need a lawyer, not unless you did it. Whoa.” Mallory put up her hand to catch Hayden’s. “I don’t think you did. I’m positive you didn’t. You’re a victim, same as the dead guy, and you’re not thinking like the professional you are. Listen to me for a minute. Take a deep breath, sit back, and remember your criminal training. You’ll know what I’m saying.”

“Can you take the day off?”

“Nope, got a deposition with Ed I have to be at today at three, but you don’t need me. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Mallory took a deep breath. “I’m sweating to death out here in tourist land. If you’re not going back to work today, let’s go to my office and talk for a little while.”

Nodding her agreement, Hayden dropped some money on the table, secured it under the ketchup bottle and followed Mallory out past the bar to the parking lot. This time when she passed the bar, a hush fell over the group.

Looking around at people she’d known most of her life, many she dove with, some she taught to dive, she understood the power and speed of gossip in a small town on a tiny island. “Coconut Telegraph,” as Jimmy Buffet had called it in a song about the Caribbean. Maybe here in Marathon it should be the “Cocoplum Telegraph.” She smiled broadly and greeted each person seated at the bar by name. Never, she thought, let them see a weakness. They’re sharks. They’re schooling now and they’ll attack if they get the chance.

Mallory waited in the parking lot alongside her car for Hayden to leave the restaurant. “What took so long?”

“I wanted to say hi to some old friends. Didn’t you hear the silence when I came into the room?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t make the connection. Sorry.” Mallory hugged her friend.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hayden caught sight of a car pulling on to Cocoplum Road. She spun and tried to see the driver more clearly.

“Hayd?”

“I think that’s the Coast Guard guy who was at the Humboldt. I told you we dove together. Do you think he told the crew in the restaurant? He probably saw us on the deck. We couldn’t see him because they had the sliders closed and the glare was too bad. Damn. He had his own story to tell. Why serve me up for the afternoon entertainment?”

“Don’t sweat it,” Mallory responded as she wiped perspiration from her forehead. “Let’s get out of here before I melt. I envy you, skinny. You never seem to feel the heat. Or if you do, you don’t show it.”

Hayden laughed at her friend and got into her car. Rolling down the window she leaned out and said, “Oh, I feel it, all right, but I’m a native, remember.”

Mallory weighed a good ten pounds less than she did, although Hayden was in better shape from the constant swimming. Still, Mallory called her skinny from the first day they met.

The drive to Mallory’s office put Hayden in a better mood. It was hard to stay down when you lived in one of the most beautiful places on earth. She popped in a CD and sang along at the top of her lungs. Her Tahoe was high enough that she could see over the bridge railings. As she crossed Vaca Cut, a dive boat, identified by the distinctive red and white flag painted on the top of the cabin, passed beneath the bridge. She wished she were on it. Off in the distance she saw boats on the turquoise waters. Yep, it was a beautiful day in paradise.

Pulling into the Victorian house that served as Mallory’s office, she found a parking space in the rear of the building. She entered by the back door directly into a coffee/break room. From there she crossed the hall to Mallory’s personal office, grateful Mallory had unlocked the rear door for her. She didn’t have to go through the reception area or pass the offices of any of the attorneys. The fewer questions she had to answer, the better.

Looking around Mallory’s office, Hayden noted how cleverly she had put her stamp on the space. She was lucky the double hung windows overlooked a back porch. At one time, there had been French doors leading to the porch, but a break-in a few years ago caused the attorneys to remove the access. Colorful tin sculptures hung on the walls and mermaids and fish were interspersed with the statute books on the shelves. Several personal photos, including one of Mallory and Hayden on a dive cruise, stood on the desk and end tables. She’d even put a colorful rag rug down.

“You look better already. What happened?” Mallory asked.

“The drive. I do love it here. I try always to be grateful I live here and that I have a house to live in. The insurance may kill me annually but the rent would kill me monthly. I’m lucky. And I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Good girl. What would you be doing for a client?”

Hayden grabbed a legal pad and pen from Mallory’s desk. “Reports. I’d be getting incident reports.”

“See, you know this stuff. I know it’s different when you’re involved personally, but try to separate yourself. Try to think of yourself as a client. Go to Monroe County, the Coast Guard, and the marine patrol, get the reports. It’s public record. Get the autopsy report and the toxicology screen. This is basic. You know that.” Mallory paused and pushed herself back in her chair. “Or do you already have them?”

Hayden felt her cheeks begin to burn. “No. I never even thought of it until now. I was in too much shock. I mean, I never figured I’d be a suspect.”

“That’s understandable.” Mallory paused for a beat. “I’m asking you again, are you sure you are a suspect?”

Hayden dropped her gaze to the rug and studied it. “It sure feels that way.” Tapping the pen against the pad, tears bit the back of her eyes. She looked up at her friend and met her steady gaze. “I’ve been having a big, long, pity party, haven’t I?”

“It’s okay, Hayden. You’re entitled,” Mallory said so softly the words were nearly a whisper.

“Next time, I’ll send out invitations. Thank you, Mallory. Thank you for everything, but most of all, thank you for giving me balance and perspective.”

Mallory rolled her eyes. “Let’s stay on point. It looks like Monroe Sheriff’s is catching the case, not the marine patrol. Eventually the Sheriff’s office will get all the information. First it has to go through God knows how many hands. What ends up in the final report is not always the same thing that’s in the incident reports. We’ve won cases on that. Get the reports. Here.” Mallory opened her drawer and grabbed a pocket recorder and a fresh tape. “Talk to yourself.”

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 this 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.