Castle Cay by Lee Hanson Page A

able
to just check out the name for me, see if it’s come up before. Is
that possible?”
    “Sure, I guess I can do that. You want me to
call you after I check him out?”
    “That’d be great.”
    He gave Sherm his cell number, spelled out
Avram’s name, and gave him the address of the Boston dealership.
They talked a bit more, promising to get together soon, and hung
up.
    Last, Joe called the airlines for the next
flight to Miami and booked a seat.
    “Okay,” he said to Janet, rising. “I’m off.
I’ll see you when I see you.”
    Joe ran up the stairs, two at a time. He
quickly went around the apartment, gathering up his stuff. Finally,
his carry-on at his feet, he sat down on the couch to make one more
call.
    “ Angie? Look, before you say anything…
there’s something I’ve got to tell you…”
    * * * * *

Chapter 30
    J ulie sat in the back seat of the taxi
thinking about David Harris. It was Friday, September 21st, and she
planned to be on the one o’clock flight out of Miami to Key West.
David was all set to pick her up there.
    She thought about what Joe had told her:
“ There was no forced entry”. She reminded herself that David
was the only other person in the house when Marc died. But it was
no use; no matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t imagine David
having anything to do with Marc’s death.
    She got out of the cab a few storefronts down
from Island World Realty , which, fortunately, was fairly
close to Miami International. Julie tipped the driver a twenty. He
was to come back for her in precisely one hour, if he wanted to
collect another one.
    She was surprised to find the place in a
strip mall. There were a few guys in cubicles on phones and
computers, and an older woman was sitting at a desk up front, near
the door. It suddenly occurred to Julie that they probably didn’t
have much walk-in business for multimillion-dollar islands.
Obviously, the closings took place somewhere else.
    “Can I help you?”
    “Yes. I’m looking for Frank Martino.”
    A dark haired guy, late twenties maybe,
rolled his desk chair backwards into the aisle between the cubes.
He looked at Julie, a pleased smile on his face.
    “Hi! You Julie O’Hara?”
    “Yes. Frank Martino?”
    “That’s me. I’ll be right with you.”
    Slick. The Bluetooth phone in his ear
completes the image…
    Julie was glad she hadn’t mentioned Castle
Cay specifically. She had merely said that she was “flying into
Miami from Boston,” and “wanted to talk about an island.” She
wanted to gauge his reaction in person.
    “You want to get some lunch? There’s a sub
shop next door,” said Martino.
    “I could use a cup of coffee,” said Julie,
and followed him out. As they walked to the nearby sub shop, Julie
noticed some expensive cars parked in front of Island World…a BMW
convertible, a Cadillac and a Lexus.
    They got their orders, and sat down opposite
each other in a booth.
    “So how’s the real estate business these
days?” asked Julie.
    “In the tank, I hear,” said Martino, smiling.
“But not islands. They don’t lose value like regular property and
the buyers are always qualified. So, are you a buyer or a
seller?”
    “Neither, I’m afraid,” said Julie, watching
him carefully. “I’m here to talk about Castle Cay in the Abacos…and
Marc Solomon.”
    Martino’s body stiffened immediately. He was
surprised and definitely unhappy. He was frowning, his brows knit
together.
    The deal with Holiday Cruise Lines hasn’t
closed yet, I bet…and he has a big stake in it.
    I wonder how much?
    “Who are you? What does that have to do with
you?” Martino asked, no longer interested in his sandwich.
    “I don’t have anything to do with it. Marc
Solomon was my friend, that’s all. That’s why I’m here. This sale
just happens to coincide with his death. I only want to ask a few
questions, Frank, just public record things,” Julie said, sipping
her coffee.
    “What kind of questions?”
    “Well, I already