The Girl on the Yacht (7 page)

Rafe shrugged his shoulders. “What’s a guy supposed to do?”

Marin laughed at the lovable character.

The woman came out of the cabin with her driver’s license and handed it to Cameron.

The sheriff investigator took a picture of the ID with her phone and handed it back.

Raphael paced across the deck. “I hope you find the person who did it before I do. If I find him, there may not be much left.”

“How long did it take for you to memorize those lines?”

“I’m serious!”

Marin pointed to the 75-foot Azimut motor yacht at the end of E-dock. “I don’t think you’ll need John to introduce you to Jackie Irwin.”

“The DA?”

Marin nodded.

While they approached the massive white-hulled yacht, Jackie came out on deck, waved to the women, and walked over to the railing.

“Come aboard. We can go inside where it’s air-conditioned.” She led them through the open door and then closed the slider. She held her hand out in a friendly fashion for Marin and Cameron to sit on the luxurious leather sofa.

“Can I get you anything?” Jackie opened the refrigerator.

“No, thanks,” Marin said.

“Jackie, you know the routine. Is there anything you can think of––sights, sounds, rumors, anything?” Cameron’s frustrations were apparent.

“We’ve got nothing. We can’t imagine who would want to hurt her.”

“I sent Little Horse to check out her patients. I hope he finds something at her office.”

“How is Sergeant Rogers? Didn’t he have a baby a couple months ago?”

“A boy––William ‘Little Horse’ Rogers, Junior. He’s a doll.”

“Good for him. Where’s the investigation going?”

“I’m not holding out much hope. Someone wanted her dead, and it looks like they hired a pro to do it.” Cameron shook her head from side to side. “You don’t remember anything?”

“No, we were asleep from about eleven until six this morning. That’s when John woke us up with that horn.”

“Do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt Laura or Dan?”

“No.”

“What about,” Cameron hesitated, “someone who was upset with her or Dan?”

“Well, there’s the Raphael thing.”

“Was the actor mad at either of them?”

“I don’t think so. It was Dan who was upset.”

“We’ve covered that.”

“Then there are the ones that lost money in Dan’s investment schemes.”

Cameron perked up in the chair. “What investment schemes?”

“I’m not really clear on the details. I’ve just heard that a number of people lost money investing with Dan. Some even on the dock.”

“Were you or your husband investing with him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We invest conservatively. That isn’t Dan’s style.”

“Who lost money with him?”

“Max lost the most money,” she paused, “and Mitch lost some. I don’t know how much.”

“Max––Mitch?” Cameron looked at Marin.

Marin shrugged her shoulders. “All I know is that Mitch Taylor is a plastic surgeon.”

“Max Hansen is a marine biologist. He and Victoria have the fifty-foot Bertram in Slip Twenty-nine, straight across from Dan and . . . .” Jackie pointed out the window at the boat behind hers. “Mitch is a couple of slips down––the Meridian in E-25, near your boat, Marin.” Jackie raised her eyebrows at Marin.

With a blank expression on her face, Cameron’s mind appeared to be digesting the latest information.

“I’d like to talk with your husband, as well.”

“Rob,” Jackie shouted.

He climbed the stairs to the salon, strolled over to the bar, and poured a bourbon from the bottle of Knob Creek. He held the bottle out, offering it to his guests.

The women shook their heads.

“Did you see or hear anything unusual last night?” Cameron asked while Rob walked over to the leather armchair and plopped down.

“We were asleep.”

“Do you know of anyone who had reason to kill Laura?”

“I’ve been thinking about it all morning. No one on this dock did it. I’m certain.”

“Someone could be involved in the murder, even if they didn’t do it themselves,” Cameron stated.

“We all get along so well on the dock and have a lot of fun together.” He swirled the glass and the ice clinked against the crystal.

Cameron looked around at the elegant interior of the yacht. “Very nice boat.” Then, without a transition, she asked, “What did
you
think of Laura?”

“I liked her, but I didn’t know her well. It still happens that women tend to talk to each other, and men get together to talk about boats.” His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen. “She seemed like a sweet person—always working to make everyone comfortable.”

“Do you need to take that call?”

“It’s one of my people in China.” He glanced at his Rolex. “They’re just getting up. I’ll call her back later.” He set the phone on the end table next to his drink.

“You were telling me about Laura.”

“She had a gift for making new people feel welcome on the dock.” He glanced at Marin. “You saw it last night. She often introduced and paired up people with common interests. Maybe that’s because she was a psychiatrist––always helping people,” Rob said.

“What do you think of Max and Mitch on the dock?”

“Max is one of those trust fund babies. Kind of a prick. Thinks he knows everything. Mitch, on the other hand, is just a normal guy. Made it on his own, I guess. Kind of sticks to himself.”

Cameron stared out the window at the calm bay.

“It’s been a long day.” Marin felt her friend’s anguish. “Let’s go back to John’s boat and take it easy for a while.”

Cameron thanked Jackie and Rob.

“You’re coming to the memorial tomorrow afternoon,” Jackie said as more of an order than a request.

“What memorial?” Marin asked.

“More of an Irish wake. They’ve been planning it all afternoon,” Rob said.

“Does Dan know?”

Jackie nodded and glanced up at Marin. “You’ll both come?”

“John and I will be there,” Marin said.

“I’ll be there,” Cameron said. “You never know who might show up.”

Marin saw something in Cameron’s face but let it go.

They left the yacht and started down the dock.

“What did you mean back there?” Marin asked.

“Maybe the person responsible will show up––not the killer––he’s long gone––but the person who sent him. We might get lucky.”

While Marin and Cameron strolled down the dock near John’s boat, the crime scene tech walked over to Cameron.

“The Douglas boat’s done, and we’re about finished collecting evidence on the dock,” he said.

“Did you get the search warrant for each of the unoccupied boats?” Cameron asked.

Marin looked at her friend. “Boats?”

“I’m thinking the killer probably hid on a boat near Laura’s. You know—waited for her to come off her boat for whatever.”

“The bathroom up next to the clubhouse,” Marin suggested.

Cameron stared at her and nodded. She obviously filled in one of the blank spots of her knowledge base. “Bathroom—on shore—I definitely need to check all of the boats and the bathrooms for evidence that he might have lain in wait.”

“We got the warrants about an hour ago—only for unlocked areas on the boats.” The officer pulled the stack of papers from his pocket. “We’ve been going through them––probably be here late tonight,” he responded.

“Make sure everyone has meal breaks and stays hydrated. We need to be alert for that one piece of evidence.”

“He’s taking care of us.” The tech pointed to John who was standing on the back of
The Hunter
.

“Hey, you two, come and get something to eat,” John called from across the dock.

Cameron and Marin walked over and climbed aboard.

“This is the Sheriff’s Department base of operations.” John opened the ice chest, pulled out a couple of bottles of water, and tossed them to the two women. “I think I’ve fed all of your officers. Take a break and have some food.” He opened another ice chest full of sandwiches from Gina’s Italian shop and sat down next to Marin.

John smiled at Marin. “Beth called. I told her we’d be tied up all day. I didn’t tell her about Laura––she doesn’t need to know.”

“We should go spend some time with her,” Marin said.

“She’s good––going shopping––she thinks we’re having a thing, and she’s happy to get lost for a day or so.” He grinned.

“You’re as bad as Raphael.”

Cameron sat at the open lounge on deck, twisted off the bottle top, and took a big gulp of water.

“Did you find the killer yet?” John grinned.

“Well, we’ve narrowed it down, and you’re still one of my prime suspects,” Cameron announced.

“I’ve never been a prime suspect before,” John said with his usual comic relief.

“Well, go ahead and confess, and I can go back to enjoying my weekend,” Cameron said.

“I think it was Colonel Mustard, in the library, with a revolver.” John knew that everyone needed some humor that day. “What have you found so far?”

“This one is going to take some time and some luck.”

“Luck?” He paused. “Marin says you’re the best there is.”

“Well, most of the time we rely on tips from witnesses or people who come across the killer.”

“But, no one saw anything this time,” Marin said.

“That’s a clue,” Cameron said. “The killer knew his way around boats, because he went unnoticed––a pro. He killed a person outside, and no one saw or heard anything. The dogs on the boats weren’t even barking. Your dog didn’t even fuss, and your boat’s next to Laura’s.”

“What about the weight belt––anything there?” John asked.

“It’s a dead end. It’s the most popular diving belt sold. It was interesting, though.”

“How’s that?” Marin asked.

“It only had a pound and a half of lead attached to it. I would have expected a lot more weight to sink her to the bottom.”

John, the diver nodded. “Just enough lead to take the body below the surface.”

“I’ll bet if you check the tides, they were going out around when the murder happened,” Marin said.

“Good idea.” John smiled at her.

Cameron had a perplexed look.

John walked over to the cupboard, reached in, and came out with a tide table. His finger trailed down the chart for the time and date. “You’re right.” He studied the numbers. “Wow, there’s a major tide going out––eight feet in six hours.” He looked over at Marin. “It started an hour before they found her. A couple of hours later, and Laura’s body would have cleared the harbor jetty and been swept out to sea in that current.”

“Eight feet––what’s that mean?” Cameron looked like she wasn’t quite getting the reference.

“At four-forty-six this morning, the boats were here.” He held his flat hand over his head as high as he could reach. “About now, they are sitting on the floor—that much water disappeared out of the harbor in the tide.”

“No way.” Cameron couldn’t believe the example.

Marin added, “That’s how they used to launch sailing ships before there was power. The old saying ‘setting sail with the tide’ meant that the outgoing current is so strong that a ship would drift out of the harbor to the open sea.”

Cameron stared at Marin. “So, this guy really knows his way around the water.”

John nodded. “Takes a lot of knowledge and experience to do it right.”

Marin took a bite of the roast beef sandwich John had given her from the cooler.

“Are you finished questioning everyone?” he asked.

“Not yet, but I’m running out of people to interview here.” Cameron thumbed through her notes. “I need to talk to Mitch Taylor, the plastic surgeon.”

“He’s not here this weekend.” John glanced over at Marin. “Some kind of conference, I think. Left last night.”

“Was he on the dock before he left?”

“Yeah, I met him at the dock party,” Marin said.

“When does he get back?”

“He mentioned he’d be around early in the week. He always comes by his boat when he gets back from a trip––to check on it,” John said. “I can let you know when I see him.”

Cameron turned the page on her iPad. “Well, I’ve got plenty to do. There’s still Max Hansen––the one who lost the money.” She glanced at John.

“Damn.” John slapped his forehead. “I knew I forgot to tell you something when we were talking about Dan.”

“Anything you want to share?” Cameron had the expression that John may be holding back information on his friends.

“Sorry, I never thought it was a big deal. The money thing. But, Max was upset. Too upset, I think. He spread the word that Dan had stolen his money. Not true––Dan invested in some risky instruments, and then the economy went south. That’s all.”

“How do you know what he invested in?” Cameron asked.

“I saw the records––Dan showed all of us who had given him money.”

“So you gave him money, too?”

“He’s a friend. I had my business manager invest forty-thousand with him. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. I helped out a friend.” He glanced at Marin. “Our secret, okay?”

Marin nodded her agreement.

“Let’s get back to Max.”

“He’s a marine biologist––not well liked. What’s to know? Everybody hopes he’ll find another marina. He’s just a few boats over.” John pointed to the Bertram fishing boat.

“Let’s go. John, you don’t have to come.” Cameron turned to leave, then stopped and focused on John. “Thanks for taking care of my team.”

He smiled.

Marin climbed out of her seat, and the two women headed back up the dock.

Max met them on the back cockpit of his fishing boat. Instead of inviting them in, he stood in the gateway of the rail with his bulging arms crossed.

“I’m Investigator West. I need to ask you a few questions about this morning.”

He never moved. “Okay.”

“This morning––where were you?”

“Asleep.” He rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Can anybody verify that?”

He turned his head toward the cabin. “Vic.”

A hefty woman of around thirty-five stuck her head out of the darkened cabin. “Yeah?”

Max turned to Cameron and stared without a word.

“Are you Mrs. Hansen?”

“Yeah.”

Marin decided this was a family of few words.

“Where were you this morning, and were you with anyone?” Cameron prodded.

“Here. With him.” The woman tilted her head toward her husband.

Cameron sighed and let out a breath. “Thanks.”

The woman disappeared behind the large man.

“Tell me about your relationship with Dan Douglas.”

“He stole my money.”

“That’s a serious charge. Do you have any proof––documents, recorded conversations, whatever?”

“He covered his tracks.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I wanted to rip his head off. It was most of the money I had left.”

“What do you mean, left?”

“My grandfather left me a trust fund. I gave Dan a hundred thousand. He stole it.”

“You knew it was an investment––right?”

“Yeah, but nobody could lose on the market. It was going through the roof when I gave it to him.”

Cameron stared at him.

“Anyway, he should have known when to get out. I think he bailed before the crash and just kept the money—telling the rest of us that he lost it all.”

“So you wanted to get even?”

He let the comment ferment in the air around them. “I could never do that.”

Cameron stared at the big man. “Have you ever been in the military?”

“Army.”

“Why would you join the Army? I mean, with a trust fund? College?”

“I’m a patriot. After Nine-eleven, I thought I could make a difference.” His tone was getting angrier.

“Special Ops?” she asked.

“No. Are we done?” he asked.

Another sigh. “For now.” As Cameron started off the boat, she turned back to him. “What did you do in the Army?”

“I was a battlefield medic in Iraq. It was a grueling and gruesome experience.”

“Sort of like
my
job,” Cameron said softly.