Hurricane Bay by Heather Graham
She was silent for a minute. “But I could find out things you don’t know.”
“Not a chance.”
“Oh?”
“Why do you say that?” His eyes narrowed.
She shrugged. “Because people who might not be willing to talk to you might be willing to talk to me.”
She walked past him.
“Where are you going?”
She hesitated. “Back to the duplex. Are you going to follow me?”
“You’re really going back there? You’re not going to go into the computer and see if you can find another violent career criminal to visit?”
“I’m really going back to the duplex.”
He nodded, then headed for his Jeep.
“Are you coming over?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I have things to do.”
She hesitated, watching him climb into the Jeep. He turned on the motor and took a pair of sunglasses from the dashboard, but he didn’t move the car. He just watched her through the dark lenses.
“We’re meeting for dinner at Nate’s at seven,” she told him. “Care to join us?”
She could read no emotion on his features, and she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he said.
She turned and got into her car. A block down the street, she realized that, despite what he’d said, he was following her. He wasn’t even pretending not to. When she parked at the duplex, though, he remained in his car. She walked over to him. “Are you coming in?”
“No, I just thought I’d see you safely in.”
“I thought you didn’t care if I put myself into dangerous situations anymore.”
“I lied.” He adjusted his glasses. “Go inside, Kelsey.”
She turned impatiently and walked to the door, fitting her key into the lock. She stepped inside, calling Larry’s name. He didn’t respond, but she hadn’t expected him to, since his car wasn’t in the driveway. She hesitated before closing the door, remembering her uneasiness the night before. She ran through the duplex, checking out closets and bathrooms, then back to the front. Dane was still there, still staring impassively out from behind his sunglasses. She waved to him and closed the door, listening to him drive away.
She hesitated. Her half of the duplex was empty, and she knew it. So why did she still have the feeling that someone had been there who shouldn’t have been? That someone had searched the rooms? That the space had somehow been violated.
She glanced at her watch. It wasn’t quite three. She had plenty of time to run over the list of numbers she had taken from Izzy’s cell phone. She walked to the kitchen, set her purse down and dug out the paper. She marked off the numbers she knew, amazed that he seemed to have so many that should have meant nothing to him at this stage of all their lives. He had Larry’s home phone keyed in, as well as her own, and that of the company where they both worked. Nate’s home, Nate’s business. Cindy. Dane. There was one listed only as “JM.” She was willing to bet that number was Jorge Marti’s. Just to double-check, she went to the phone and punched in the numbers. The phone rang, and then an answering machine picked up. “Hi, this is Jorge. Please leave a message. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
She hesitated, then said quickly, “Hi, Jorge, it’s Kelsey Cunningham. A group of us are meeting at seven at Nate’s for supper. We’d love it if you could join us.”
She hung up, then picked up the phone again, ready to try another number. After a moment she hung up without dialing, not wanting to call from the duplex.
Everyone had caller ID these days.
She drummed her fingers on the counter, wondering why she hadn’t told Dane about Sheila’s purse being on Izzy’s boat, or that she had taken the numbers from his phone.
She really didn’t know what the hell to do with the numbers. She knew it was somehow important that Izzy not only had all their numbers, but that he kept them on his cell phone. But as to finding out anything about the other numbers…she really didn’t know how to go about it.
Dane would. He was a private investigator.
Maybe she would tell him. Soon. She was still disturbed by the fact that Sheila’s earring had been at his house. That he had admitted to sleeping with her just before she disappeared.
What did it all mean?
Dane arrived at the Sea Shanty late. Before joining the group, he observed them from the doorway. Cindy was looking small but perfect in a backless sheath that showed off the definition of her shoulders, pecs and back. Larry was as perfectly pressed and tailored as ever in tan slacks and a black short-sleeved knit. Nate was wearing a surf shirt and knee-length Dockers, and he was enthusiastically discussing something with Larry. Kelsey was leaning back in her chair, her hair shimmering in the Tiki lights, curling over her bare shoulders. Her dress was a flowered strapless concoction that clung to every curve of her body. She was listening to the man in the chair at her left, Jorge Marti.
Jorge looked good. Dark, handsome, he was the only one in a jacket. His navy shirt was open at the throat underneath the beige blazer. Like Kelsey, he had the knack of looking both well-dressed and casual. Whatever he was saying to her was making her laugh.
Before joining the group, Dane discreetly took a few photos. Then he slid the small waterproof camera into the pocket of his black windbreaker and strode over to join them at their table.
Kelsey heard him coming and looked up. He couldn’t tell if she was pleased by his arrival or not. Cindy, as always, jumped up with the effusive pleasure she showed to all her friends. “Dane, we were afraid you weren’t coming.”
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, sitting and picking up a menu, though he knew it by heart. “Jorge, how are you doing?”
“Great, thanks. You?”
“Moving right along,” he said. “I hope I didn’t keep you all from ordering?”
“We’re in the Keys,” Larry said. “We’re not supposed to be in any hurry. We planned on giving you half an hour, at least. Then we figured we’d spend another fifteen minutes being disappointed that you hadn’t joined us.”
“I knew you’d show,” Nate said. “By the way, those hidden cameras worked great. Fired a kid today. Caught him right on tape with his hand in the till. Thanks, man. You saved me a bundle.”
“What can I say? Security works,” Dane said.
“I guess it’s good,” Larry volunteered. He smiled at Kelsey across the table. “I don’t know. At work, I feel like Big Brother is watching. The frigging cameras move. They follow you around.”
Dane gave him a rueful smile. “Good cameras. They’re probably expensive. They must think highly of the work you do.”
Larry sniffed. “Either that, or they think we’re going to make off with all their art supplies. Ah, well, such is corporate life.”
“Since Dane is here, let’s order,” Cindy said. She looked at the suddenly silent group. “Okay, it’s the Keys, but I live here all the time, and I’m starving.”
Laughter followed her words. Nate summoned the waiter, and they ordered. “I hope you’re not disappointed,” he said. “This place isn’t exactly gourmet.”
“We’ll go gourmet another night,” Kelsey assured him. “Tonight we’ll go with friendship and down-home good food.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” He lifted his glass toward her. She lifted hers in return. “To the best ex-wife I’ve ever had.”
“Thanks. Of course, I’m the only ex-wife you’ve ever had.”
“Scary to think I could have gotten married over and over again.” Nate shuddered. “I think you’ve made me a single man for the rest of my life.”
“Great, there’s a real testimonial,” Kelsey groaned.
“No, no, I didn’t mean it that way,” Nate protested. “None of us really seem cut out for marriage. Take Cindy, for instance. She may end up an old maid.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Cindy murmured.
“We’re all in the same boat. I’m a reformed man, Dane
“We weren’t a total disaster. I still love her,” Larry said.
“Sheila wasn’t meant for marriage,” Jorge said, without meeting Larry’s eyes.
Larry shrugged. “You guys don’t all have to stare at your drinks. Let’s face it, my ex-wife has hopped into bed with every guy here.” He lifted a hand before any of them could protest. “Not while we were married—not with you guys, anyway—and if I’m wrong, I don’t want to know. But it’s true, I still love her.”
Dane noticed that Kelsey was staring at her ex-husband. He wondered if she knew about her ex’s relationship with Sheila, or that he had been just as big a lech as any other man alive.
“Okay, here’s to you for being such a decent guy,” Cindy said. “But you know what? Guys will sleep with anyone.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m just a walking pile of testosterone,” Larry said.
Cindy had to laugh. Even Dane felt the twitch of a smile at the other man’s mournful tone. “Kelsey says you’re dating a model.”
“She is pretty gorgeous,” Larry admitted.
Cindy continued. “That’s the problem. There just aren’t that many decent guys out there anymore. And all the ones I know are my old friends.”
“That doesn’t mean we aren’t willing to oblige you in any way you might desire,” Larry told her, grinning.
“See what I mean? You’re dating a gorgeous model, but you’re ready to oblige me.”
“Hey, I was kidding. Besides, who knows what the future holds? It’s awfully easy to find yourself available. I learned that the hard way.”
Cindy smiled. “Poor Larry. I’ll keep the offer in mind—for the future, of course. I just hate to lose a really good friend by dating him.”
“Hey, Kels didn’t just date me. She married me and divorced me, and we’re still friends,” Nate said. “But then, I took the divorce awfully well.”
Kelsey stared at him, shaking her head. “Nate…”
“Hey, it’s your loss. Isn’t that what they say?”
“My loss. You’re a good guy, Nate,” Kelsey assured him.
“Hey, at least she divorced you before sleeping with half the town,” Larry said.
“You know, Larry, you have Kelsey in the office with you all the time,” Cindy pointed out.
Kelsey groaned. “I never date co-workers.”
“And she means it, dammit,” Larry said.
Kelsey shrugged. “I hate to lose friends, too, and I also hate the idea of being uncomfortable at work if it didn’t work out.”
“Good policy,” Jorge said. “You should never date clients, either.” He spoke casually, but when he met Dane’s eyes, he blushed, despite his dark complexion, and looked uncomfortable. Dane wondered just how much his friends knew about what had happened in St. Augustine. Enough, apparently.
“This whole conversation is depressing me,” Cindy said.
“In that case, we’ll talk about something else,” Larry told her.
“Oh!” Cindy said. “Did you hear that they dug up another skeleton in the Everglades?”
A dead silence followed her words. Dane studied the faces around him, wondering whether they were afraid to ask if the remains might belong to Sheila.
Kelsey sounded as if she was strangling as she asked, “Bones? Just…bones?”
“Uh-huh,” Cindy said. “They’ve been out there almost a year. That’s what they reported on the evening news, anyway. Apparently the police suspect that the woman might have been a victim of the Necktie Strangler. They’ve already managed to ID her. Another stripper, thank God. Lord, that sounds awful, doesn’t it? It’s not that I have anything against strippers. Everybody has to make a living. Except that it seems the victims were all prostitutes on the side. And that’s why I’m grateful. This guy is targeting a certain kind of woman. If there was a killer on the loose who chose his victims randomly…well, I know I’m not desperate enough to start hooking, so I don’t have to be afraid of my own shadow.”
“You should always be careful,” Dane told her.
“I wish we knew where Sheila was,” Nate said.
“Sheila doesn’t work in a strip club,” Jorge said.
“But the way she behaves…” Larry murmured.
“Right. Taking off without letting anyone know,” Cindy said firmly, refusing to acknowledge any similarities with the dead women. “Sheila is fine, and she’ll show up soon. I know it.”
There was silence again.
“Wow, what a fun time we’re having,” Nate groaned. “Anybody here have anything cheerful to talk about?” Nate said. “So far we’ve gone through failed marriage, the lack of romance in our lives, our worry about Sheila, and, just to make us all a little more anxious, we’ve thrown in a serial killer.”
Jorge turned to Kelsey, who was still looking worried. “Sheila is going to be all right.”
No, she’s not, Dane wanted to shout.
Which would be an insane move.
“We can talk about politics,” Cindy suggested.
Nate groaned more loudly this time. “Hell, let’s throw in abortion, gun control and religion. We won’t have to worry about being old friends by the end of the night.”
“Hey, Kelsey,” Jorge said. “Are you planning on doing any painting while you’re down here.”
“Maybe. I haven’t done any in a long time,” she said.
Jorge began talking about some of the areas she might want to sketch. Then Cindy asked Dane about his work, while Nate and Larry turned to a discussion about a new rock group from the Keys that was starting to gain national prominence. The food came and went; coffee and dessert were served. Dane glanced at his watch.
He looked across the table to find that Kelsey was studying him. He leaned as close to her as he could. “You’re not visiting anyone tonight, are you?”
She arched a brow. “I’m here with friends.”
“Stay with them,” he told her. Then he rose. “I’ve got to get going. This was great, seeing everyone. And just to assure you all of the success of my career, let me get the check, Nate.”
Nate grinned. “Hell, no. I’m getting it here. You can get it on…say Monday. We’ll try that nouvelle cuisine place right down the road. It will be much cheaper for me that way.”
“Nate!” Kelsey protested.
Dane was unperturbed. “That’s fine with me. Monday night. Seven again?”
“Seven,” Cindy agreed. “Ugh. Monday is a workday.”
“That from Miss Workaholic,” Jorge teased.
“True—usually. But with us all together now…I’d love to just play for a few days. Head out to the beach. Go boating, diving, exploring. Like when we were kids.”
“Actually I wasn’t part of most of your excursions back in those days,” Jorge said. “I feel a bit like an intruder here. Sure you want me along?”
“Oh, definitely,” Kelsey said, looking at Jorge.
“Of course we want you to join us,” Cindy said.
“You’ve got to be there,” Dane said, nodding his agreement with the others. “Nate, thanks for dinner. The Sea Shanty rules, as always. Good night, all.”
He waved and headed out, taking the path for the parking lot.
He hesitated, hearing a rustle in the bushes. He looked back.
He could see a touch of color through the foliage. Someone’s shirt?
He walked again.
Listened.
Yup. He was being followed.
CHAPTER 9
Earlier Kelsey had planned to leave the Sea Shanty and head straight back to the duplex for a tub of hot water, a cup of tea, a Tylenol P.M. and a night’s sound sleep.
Instead she forced herself to sit tight for a moment when Dane left, then feigned a yawn and begged off. She left quickly and followed Dane’s footsteps. When he stopped to light a cigarette,
Her hands were shaking on the wheel. Dane knew something he wasn’t telling. She was sure of it.
Of course, she wasn’t giving him all the information she had, either. Meanwhile, she was determined to follow him tonight.
Dane’s relationship with Sheila still disturbed her.
Why? She shouldn’t have been surprised that he had slept with Sheila. It hadn’t been anything new. They had been a duo all through high school, after all. And she hadn’t needed to find the earring or hear from Dane himself that he had been with Sheila. When she had first reached Key Largo and Sheila hadn’t been there, she had heard right away from Cindy that Sheila had been seeing Dane.
Before that, on the phone, Sheila had told her that she was seeing him, though there had been a strange wistful tone to her voice that hadn’t seemed to fit the words.
Kelsey realized how badly she wanted to believe in Dane. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was impossible to be with him without feeling an attraction. After all, he had been Joe’s best friend. There for most of her life. Older, handsome, assured, determined on his future, confident in his ability to get where he wanted to go.
Or maybe it was just because of that night.
As she drove, trying to focus on following the Jeep, she found that a certain honesty was bubbling to the surface.
She shouldn’t have come to Key Largo. She had been married to Nate—a disaster from start to finish—but she didn’t feel a thing when she was near him except for an old affection. She’d spent one night with Dane and all she had to do was see his face to feel a rush of sexual longing so strong it was humiliating. She could tell herself whatever she wanted, she could lie or hide it from others, but it was hard to keep the truth from herself. She didn’t want to mistrust Dane, she didn’t want to think that he had come home to waste his life, and she hadn’t wanted to believe he had been back with Sheila.
But he had been.
She was able to keep a safe distance behind him while the highway was divided into four lines. But then they hit US1 on the way back to the mainland and Florida City. The road narrowed to two lanes and there were several cars between them at that point, so she could no longer see his Jeep.