by Tripp Ellis
"What will it be, Deputy Wild?” Finley asked. “I'm not inclined to make the offer twice."
"I'll listen to your proposal," I said.
A confident grin curled on her lips.
Finley took my hand, and we left Jack at the bar. I had no doubt he would find ways to entertain himself for the rest of the evening.
Finley pulled me through the crowd, weaving through the horde on the aft deck, crossing the gangway to the dock. We strolled to the parking lot, and Finley sent a text message. A moment later, a driver in a black town car pulled the vehicle around, then hopped out of the car and got the door for us. We slid across the black leather seats, and the driver hustled around the vehicle and slipped behind the wheel. We left the club and crawled with the traffic across the island to the Nautilus.
It was a towering oceanfront high-rise that had modern, elegant lines. The grounds were expertly manicured. We pulled around the circular drive, underneath the awning, and the driver hopped out and pulled open the back door. He helped Finley out of the vehicle, then I followed.
"This is one of my premier properties,” Finley said.
We strolled to the marina, the pale moonlight casting a cool glow over the water. The slips were filled with luxury watercraft—sailboats, yachts, and a few cigarette boats.
"As you can see, the grounds are well maintained. The marina has all the amenities—power, water, trash pickup. The slips are exclusive to residents only."
I surveyed all the boats as they gently swayed and water lapped against their hulls. It was a nice place. There were a few subdued parties aboard boats, but nothing like the raucous beer fests that were going on around the island. This was a more sophisticated crowd.
"Let me show you one of the units," Finley said.
I followed her into the opulent lobby that was adorned with fine furnishings. Imported Italian marble lined the floors. There was a 24-hour concierge and valet parking.
"We have an Olympic size indoor swimming pool,” Finley said. “A weight room, sauna, basketball courts, tennis courts outside, an on-site spa, and a daycare. We also offer laundry service and community assistants that can run errands, do personal shopping, whatever residents need. We also have a courtesy shuttle. All of that is included in the monthly maintenance fee."
"Impressive."
I followed Finley to the bank of elevators. Her manicured finger pressed the call button, and a moment later the elevator doors slid open. We stepped aboard, and Finley pressed her thumb against a biometric authentication pad, then pressed a button. The lift whisked us to the top floor.
Finley’s high heels clacked, echoing down the hallway as she stepped onto the imported tile, heading toward the suite at the end of the hall. I watched her sultry hips sway as we stepped down the corridor.
There was a slot for a magnetic key card above the door handle. On the wall to the right, there was another biometric scanner pad. She placed her hand on the pad, and the door unlocked.
"We've incorporated biometrics into the building at all access points. You can use traditional keyed entry, or enable the biometric device for keyless use. Never get locked out of your apartment again." She smiled.
I wasn't a huge fan of biometrics. They could be spoofed. But on average, they were generally secure.
She pushed into the apartment and held the door for me. I stepped into the foyer which led to a large living area with high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that, during the day, offered a stunning view of the water.
The furniture was sleek and modern, and large canvases of fine art hung from the walls. The open floor plan flowed seamlessly into the kitchen. There were state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances and a commercial grade gas grill.
I lifted an impressed brow. "This is nice."
Finley smiled. "Thank you. This is my personal unit. It's a little larger than most, but you get a sense of the architecture and style."
"I can see why you’re successful. You have good taste.”
She grinned. "Thank you. Can I get you a drink?"
"Sure," I said.
She strolled to the minibar and poured two glasses of whiskey, then returned. She handed a glass to me, then toasted. "To win-win scenarios."
"You haven't told me how I win in this whole thing."
She grabbed my shirt, balling her hand into a fist as she clasped the fabric. She pulled me close, lifted on her tiptoes, and planted her pillowy lips against mine.
I still wasn't sure how this could be considered a win, but I would take scoring a goal for now.
22
We tumbled around the condo, but didn't make it much farther than the leather couch. Our clothes were a jumbled mess on the floor, and when it was all said and done, Finley wrapped her sweaty body around mine, cuddling on the sofa.
"That certainly was a win," I said.
She smiled. “For me, too."
"Somehow I don't think that solves our problem if you still intend on purchasing the property," I said.
"If I don't buy it, somebody else will."
That was true. Hopefully I would be that somebody else, but it was looking grim at the moment.
“And don't think just because you gave me an orgasm I'm going to go soft on you," she said.
“Just one?” I asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow.
“Okay. Maybe more than one.” She grinned. "You definitely aim to please. I'll give you that."
"Maybe if we did this a few more times, I could persuade you to see my point of view?"
"You're welcome to try, but I have to be honest… Once I make up my mind to do something, I do it." She kissed me on the cheek. "Besides, you haven't heard my proposal yet."
"I'm listening."
“None of my properties have any dining options. I don't know why I didn't think of this before. But, it would be a nice option to have a dining area as well as some upscale boutiques in the lobby. You can re-launch Diver Down with a new aesthetic. I will also need someone to manage the marina, which you can handle as well. We could split the revenue on those two ventures 50-50, and I will also give you a unit in the building so you will have a real residence, if you desire. Or you can lease it out for additional cash. Everybody wins. You get to continue your life, just as it is, albeit with a fresh, modern veneer."
I had to admit, it didn't sound all that bad. I could do a lot worse. It was a generous offer. "Of course, you'd provide all of these assurances in writing?“
"Of course. I didn't get where I am by double-crossing business partners. I have a philosophy that you do good, honest business, and you make the people around you as much money as you can. I guarantee you, with this deal, you will come out ahead financially. You’ve got nothing to lose."
"There is the nostalgia of the place. Things will change. The regulars might not like the new location."
"You'll get new regulars," she said.
"And what happens during construction?"
"I'm pretty quick about putting up new structures, but you're looking at a year, maybe 18 months before it's operational. In the meantime, I can give you a slip in this marina, and supply you with a temporary unit."
I took a deep breath. "I need to think about it."
"Take your time. But I plan on getting the property under contract Monday, Tuesday at the latest. You can take longer to think about it. But I’d jump at the offer." She smiled. "You seem like a man of decisive action. I'm pretty sure you'll take me up on it."
"Getting a little cocky, aren't you?" I asked.
She grinned and traced her delicate hand down my abs and reignited negotiations.
There were certainly worse ways to do business.
23
The morning sun blasted through the floor-to-ceiling windows in Finley's bedroom. During the night, we had moved our dealings from the couch, and I passed out in her bed in a state of pure bliss. My eyes peeled open, taking a moment to adjust to the amber rays of sunlight. My hand traced the mattress next to me, but Finley w
as gone.
The sheets were still warm, and I heard the sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen. A slight grin tugged my lips.
I climbed out of bed, hit the restroom, and took a quick shower. I toweled off, then looked for my clothes. They were strewn about the floor in the living room.
"Morning,” Finley said with a bright smile as I strutted into the living area, buck naked.
"Morning,” I replied.
"How do you like your eggs?”
"Scrambled," I said. "A little salt, a little pepper, a little cheese on top."
"I can accommodate that. Crispy bacon?"
"That's the only way."
I scooped my shorts and T-shirt from the floor and slipped them on, then laced up my sneakers.
Finley frowned. "Aw, I was enjoying the view."
"Play your cards right, and you might see it again later."
She smiled.
My phone buzzed my pocket. I pulled the device out and looked at the screen. It was Sheriff Daniels. I had several missed calls from him. I swiped the screen and held the phone to my ear.
"Where the hell are you?" Daniels barked.
"Closing a real estate deal. What's going on?"
Finley chuckled.
I'm standing on the dock near your boat. Get down here! We've got another floater."
I groaned, and my body slumped. "I'll be right there."
Finley gazed at me with concern. "What's up?"
"I gotta run. We’ll resume negotiations later?"
"I could be open for further discussion." She smiled.
Finley grabbed a paper plate from the cabinet and scooped on the eggs and bacon. "Here. Take it to go."
"Sorry I can't stay." I kissed her on the cheek and took the plate. "Thanks for breakfast."
"Maybe you can actually stay next time," she said, with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.
I smiled. "Next time. I like the sound of that." I paused for a moment. "Are you sure you're not just trying to soften me up in order to negotiate a better deal?"
She laughed. "Believe me, I'm not trying to soften you up at all."
She gave me a fork. A real one. "I want that back."
I took the utensil, pushed out of the apartment, then strolled down the hall to the bank of elevators, shoveling the eggs into my mouth and crunching on bacon. I hit the call button and stepped onto the lift when it arrived. A moment later I walked through the hallway, finishing the plate of eggs.
I handed the fork to the concierge and told him to return it to Ms. Morgan. I persuaded the driver of the courtesy van to take me back to the marina at Diver Down. It was still early enough to avoid the traffic.
JD was on the dock with Sheriff Daniels, Brenda, and the forensics team. Uniformed deputies had established a perimeter with yellow police tape. A crowd of horrified onlookers gazed with morbid curiosity. The divers had pulled another body from the water.
Same MO—only slightly different.
I pushed through the horde of gawkers and joined the others at the scene.
"Strangled to death," Daniels said. "This one is bound about the wrists and ankles. No garment bag. Still think we don't have another serial killer on our hands?"
We had a problem, that much was certain.
It didn't take long for news crews to arrive, hovering around like vultures with cameras and microphones.
"Do we know who she is?" I asked.
Daniels shook his head.
"Who found the body?”
Daniels pointed to Eddie. He lived in a 32-foot sailboat a few slips down. Nice guy. Mid-30s. Short brown hair. A little on the heavy side. He had a round baby face, and blue eyes. He was talking to another deputy.
"Eddie saw her floating in the water, called us. The divers fished her out," Daniels said. "What do you think?"
“Eddie’s been here for at least eight months. I think he’s on the up and up,” I said.
I made my way around the body to talk with Eddie. He was visibly shaken. His hands trembled slightly.
“How are you doing?" I asked.
Eddie shook his head. "Man, I'm freaked out. I’ve never seen anything like that before." His eyes glanced to the body and his face twisted with queasy revulsion.
"Have you ever seen that girl before?"
Eddie shook his head.
"How did you find her?"
"I just stepped into the cockpit to have a cup of coffee and enjoy the morning. I saw the body floating in the water. I ran down and banged on the door to your salon, but you didn't answer, so I called the Sheriff's Department.
"Did you have any contact with the body?"
"No. Like I said. I called you guys. The divers came. They pulled her out and that's where she lay ever since."
I patted him on the shoulder. "Hang in there. I may have more questions for you later."
I moved back to Sheriff Daniels. I looked at the pale body that had milky eyes and bruises around the throat. The girl was probably 19. Her bloated, naked body looked like a zombie. Small predators had nibbled at her flesh.
"How long do you think she's been in the water?" I asked.
"Less than 24 hours," Brenda said.
"How fast do you think you can get an ID?” I asked.
"Hopefully somebody reports her missing," Brenda said. “I can check dental records, but I wouldn't know where to begin. She could be local? She could be from out of town?”
"Somebody will have to miss her sooner or later,” Daniels said.
"Let's hope it's sooner," Brenda replied.
“Are there any missing persons reports currently?"
Daniels shook his head. "You know how these kids are. I expect we'll hear something within the next 24 hours." Daniels grimaced. "In the meantime, I want your full attention on this.“
I nodded. "Can we connect her to the other two deaths?"
"I can't say," Brenda said. "It's similar. The first body wasn't bound. The second was in a garment bag. The third was tied with nylon rope around the wrists.”
“She wasn’t weighted down this time.”
“Maybe the killer’s process is evolving? Maybe he's experimenting? Maybe he’s getting more daring?”
"See if you can find out where that nylon rope came from. Where it was sold and who bought it," I said.
"I'll see what I can do," Brenda replied.
24
It was amazing how fast people could go back about their business as if nothing happened. Once the body had been loaded into the medical examiner's van, and the caution tape removed, the crowd dispersed and the never-ending-party resumed.
Sure, there was gossip and fear lingering among the revelers, but nothing that couldn't be pushed to the back of the mind with a few shots of tequila. After all, something like that would never happen to them. Things like that happened to somebody else.
JD glanced to his watch. "I gotta roll. Scarlett's flight is coming in. What's the plan?"
I shrugged. "Until we know the victim’s ID, we're dead in the water."
JD cringed at my unintentional pun. "I'll catch up with you later. Have I got a story for you," he said with a mischievous grin. "And you'll have to tell me all about the real estate mogul."
He trotted down the dock toward the parking lot.
I boarded the Vivere, changed into fresh clothes, then took Buddy for a walk. Afterward, I called Denise. "Do you have a current address for Harmony Grant?"
"Hang on. Let me check." The sound of her fingers clacking against the keyboard filtered through the speaker on my phone. “Is this related to the Seaside Stalker?"
"No. Side project. Colt Steel.”
There was a momentary pause as she pulled up the information and read through the file.
"I've got an address, but I'm not giving it to you until we talk."
“We’re talking right now," I said.
"You’re being weird."
"I'm not being weird."
"Not right now. But the other night, when I introduced you
to Nick. Weird."
I grimaced, not really wanting to get into this discussion. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Are you going to act like that every time you see me with him?"
"Act like what?"
Denise huffed with frustration. Then she growled, "Ugh, you make me so mad!”
"What did I do?"
"Nothing," she said with an exasperated sigh.
There was a long, awkward silence.
"Are you going to give me the address? Or do I need to come down to the station and look it up myself?"
There was another long silence.
"It was never going to work between you and me,” she said, perhaps trying to convince herself. “Besides being against department policy, it just wouldn't work. You know that. I think we both saved ourselves heartache by not going there. But that doesn't mean that you're not my friend, that I don't care about you. So, you can't get weird when I start dating someone. I don't flip out and get weird around you every time you hook up with a new random."
"I didn't flip out."
She scoffed. "Please. You were rude, and you left as soon as you saw us. Even Nick noticed it."
"Did he?" I groaned.
"Don't be that way."
"Hey, look. You are free to do whatever you want. You're right. It wouldn't have worked. Maybe we can all go on a double date one night?" I suggested.
"Don't be an ass."
"I'm not being an ass. I'm serious. It would be a good opportunity for me to get to know him."
Denise didn't say anything for a moment. Then, “You just want to get to know him so you can find something wrong with him."
I couldn’t argue.
I guess she was tired of the conversation because she finally gave me Harmony’s address. "She's a piano teacher at the Major Key Academy. 1957 Breakpoint Way. Anything else?"
"That's all for now. Thanks."
Denise ended the call, and I slipped the phone back into my pocket.
I hopped on my bike and rode to the music academy. I wasn't sure there would be anybody there on Saturday during spring break, but there were cars parked out front and people inside.
