a psychopath’s warped imagination.”
“No, but she could have been killed by someone else. Or, if Soto did do it, how could it be connected to Molly and Elizabeth?”
“Blame it on the Grey Goose, I don’t follow you, Sean.”
“What if the girl found today saw something that Soto also thought Molly and her boyfriend saw? Then, there would be the common thread in this—something much deeper. Whoever the kid in the grave was, with her broken wings and broken neck, she also could have stumbled upon whatever it was that Soto doesn’t want anyone to know about.”
“And, it simply may have been the girl’s body itself. Soto might believe that Molly and her boyfriend saw the killing or saw him digging a grave. They got in their car and left before he could silence them. Maybe something delayed Soto from getting them before they left the forest. So now he’s stalking to silence the only living witnesses to avoid a life behind bars.”
I said nothing. Max closed her eyes, her chin resting on my thigh.
Dave said, “Let the constables who patrol the forest track this guy down.”
“Have you and Kim been comparing notes?”
He half smiled, his eyes weighted with fatigue and vodka. “Our little marina community looks out for its own. Although you’re a part-time resident, you’re full time in our hearts, especially Kim’s. Maybe you’ve noticed. And Nick would lay down his life to save yours. As for the two women in the Walmart parking lot, you were in the right place at the right, or wrong, moment. You most likely saved their lives… but you aren’t on duty for life, Sean. Another drink?”
“No thanks, I’m taking Max to bed. Maybe I’ll sleep topside with her. Watch the stars and the light from the lighthouse before the sandman comes.”
“Unfortunately, our safe harbor here isn’t as immune from demons as we’d like, especially the kind you’ve carried since the Gulf War and your wars on the streets of Miami. As you watch that light shining out into the dark sea, it’s worth hearing something that you should or probably already know: Wherever light travels, it’s greeted by darkness, but light always comes again.”
TWENTY-SIX
My body wanted sleep. My mind wanted resolution. I could go down into the master berth, stretch out and try to drift off. But I knew sleep would be elusive, my thoughts returned to the forest and the girl’s gravesite. I sat on the couch in my salon, put my feet up on the old table and read. Max curled into the center of the couch, her breathing slow and steady behind closed eyes. After a half hour, I book-marked the end of a chapter, pulled my last Corona from the cooler and tried to ease out of the salon without waking Max.
One brown eye popped open. Then the other. Now both little brown eyes, confused, or maybe looking at me in some kind of doggie disbelief suggesting I was an incurable insomniac. She jumped from the couch, yawned and followed me to the cockpit. We climbed the steps to the fly bridge. She found her bed on the bench seat, and I found my nest in the captain’s chair. I sipped a beer, rested my feet up on the console and felt the cool sea breeze sweep across by face.
I played the conversations back in my mind from the gravesite with Detective Sandberg and also with the district forest ranger, Ed Crews. Sandberg making a reference to the girl’s broken neck. Crews talking about spotting vultures circling, and seeing a man, an ex con, perhaps a squatter, walking down one of the roads, looking like he was leaving the forest. Who was he? And did he snap the girl’s neck… or was it Soto… or somebody else? I sipped the beer and glanced over at Max sleeping.
Jupiter swayed a little as the incoming tide pushed the current, the ropes around the cleats moaning a midnight snore. The temperature was dropping, a mist beginning to rise over the bay waters. I looked up and
“No, but she could have been killed by someone else. Or, if Soto did do it, how could it be connected to Molly and Elizabeth?”
“Blame it on the Grey Goose, I don’t follow you, Sean.”
“What if the girl found today saw something that Soto also thought Molly and her boyfriend saw? Then, there would be the common thread in this—something much deeper. Whoever the kid in the grave was, with her broken wings and broken neck, she also could have stumbled upon whatever it was that Soto doesn’t want anyone to know about.”
“And, it simply may have been the girl’s body itself. Soto might believe that Molly and her boyfriend saw the killing or saw him digging a grave. They got in their car and left before he could silence them. Maybe something delayed Soto from getting them before they left the forest. So now he’s stalking to silence the only living witnesses to avoid a life behind bars.”
I said nothing. Max closed her eyes, her chin resting on my thigh.
Dave said, “Let the constables who patrol the forest track this guy down.”
“Have you and Kim been comparing notes?”
He half smiled, his eyes weighted with fatigue and vodka. “Our little marina community looks out for its own. Although you’re a part-time resident, you’re full time in our hearts, especially Kim’s. Maybe you’ve noticed. And Nick would lay down his life to save yours. As for the two women in the Walmart parking lot, you were in the right place at the right, or wrong, moment. You most likely saved their lives… but you aren’t on duty for life, Sean. Another drink?”
“No thanks, I’m taking Max to bed. Maybe I’ll sleep topside with her. Watch the stars and the light from the lighthouse before the sandman comes.”
“Unfortunately, our safe harbor here isn’t as immune from demons as we’d like, especially the kind you’ve carried since the Gulf War and your wars on the streets of Miami. As you watch that light shining out into the dark sea, it’s worth hearing something that you should or probably already know: Wherever light travels, it’s greeted by darkness, but light always comes again.”
TWENTY-SIX
My body wanted sleep. My mind wanted resolution. I could go down into the master berth, stretch out and try to drift off. But I knew sleep would be elusive, my thoughts returned to the forest and the girl’s gravesite. I sat on the couch in my salon, put my feet up on the old table and read. Max curled into the center of the couch, her breathing slow and steady behind closed eyes. After a half hour, I book-marked the end of a chapter, pulled my last Corona from the cooler and tried to ease out of the salon without waking Max.
One brown eye popped open. Then the other. Now both little brown eyes, confused, or maybe looking at me in some kind of doggie disbelief suggesting I was an incurable insomniac. She jumped from the couch, yawned and followed me to the cockpit. We climbed the steps to the fly bridge. She found her bed on the bench seat, and I found my nest in the captain’s chair. I sipped a beer, rested my feet up on the console and felt the cool sea breeze sweep across by face.
I played the conversations back in my mind from the gravesite with Detective Sandberg and also with the district forest ranger, Ed Crews. Sandberg making a reference to the girl’s broken neck. Crews talking about spotting vultures circling, and seeing a man, an ex con, perhaps a squatter, walking down one of the roads, looking like he was leaving the forest. Who was he? And did he snap the girl’s neck… or was it Soto… or somebody else? I sipped the beer and glanced over at Max sleeping.
Jupiter swayed a little as the incoming tide pushed the current, the ropes around the cleats moaning a midnight snore. The temperature was dropping, a mist beginning to rise over the bay waters. I looked up and
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