My hand hit the last rung and I contorted my body into a position to gain some leverage and push the door open. This was a big unknown in my plan as it easily could have been designed as a two-man operation and be locked from the inside. I hoped my instincts about smugglers were correct and they would avoid anything that would keep them from their destination. If the law were after them, they would want fast and easy access to the interior which had shelter and probably a cache of weapons.
Bringing myself back to the present, I studied the hatch. Something tapped my calf, causing me to almost lose my balance. It was the diver asking if I needed help. I shook my head and with the pistol now in hand, used my shoulder to press against the hatch. I was worried about the old rusty hinges creaking, but had put the cart before the horse. The hatch didn’t budge. I looked down at the diver and shook my head. He reached down to his calf and handed me his dive knife.
The thick blade barely fit the moisture-swollen gap between the floorboards, and a fraction of an inch at a time, I slid the blade in until it met a resistance. When I could go no further, I pried on the handle. The blade was wide and thick enough that I didn’t need to worry about breaking it, but the short shaft made getting leverage on it difficult. I looked around and saw an old piece of galvanized pipe hanging by one rusted strap beside the newer PVC piping installed to replace it. Pulling it loose, I placed the end over the handle of the blade and pulled down on the three-foot length of pipe.
Something moved and I froze. The next action needed to be planned carefully. I wasn’t sure of the layout of the house and there was a chance the hatch would open within sight of the occupants. I tried to listen for any sign of what was going on inside, but between the boats moving around, the lapping of the water against the barnacle-covered pilings, and the thick southern yellow pine flooring, I couldn’t hear anything.
Now, about to enter the unknown, I hedged my plan thinking two guns were better than one. “Let’s go together,” I said to the diver. He nodded and after dropping our gear into the water, he climbed up next to me. The gear was no longer an issue. We would be taken out by boat no matter how this ended. Perched together on the small board, we made a plan.
“On three,” I called out. We both grabbed the pipe with one hand and our weapons with the other. “One…Two…Now!” There was no need for stealth, we needed speed. Together we pulled down on the pipe. At first the hatch resisted, but then gave way. The diver stuck his head through while I held the old wooden panel open. He scanned the room with his pistol and finding nothing, signaled back to me that the coast was clear. With the old wood on my shoulders, I stood, raising the hatch enough for him to crawl through. Once he was in the room, I followed and dropped the panel back in place.
We found ourselves alone in one of the bedrooms. While we were underneath the house, I had studied the plumbing and had a pretty good idea that the kitchen was on the far side of the house. Kyler and the girl would be somewhere in between.
Together we moved to the door. The diver turned the worn knob and gently pushed until a small crack appeared. I moved to his side and we both looked into the room. Sitting at the table to the side of the couch were Misty and the boy. They were in a heated conversation. I looked for the gun and saw it on the table about six inches from the boy’s hand. Doubting he had the experience with the weapon or the sense to use it on Misty and create a standoff, I nodded to the diver.
We were in low crouches as we had been trained, but from this angle the couch blocked any view of the room. I stood and pushed the door just a little bit more. I should have known the saltwater would have corroded the little-used hinges, and they creaked.
He spun when he heard the sound and did exactly as I had predicted. In seconds, the gun was trained on us. Misty took the cue and ducked under the table, then crawled behind the kitchen island. With her safe, we had him outgunned two to one. It was time to start negotiating.
“Drop it and we’ll talk,” I said. “You’re Kyler, right?” I said, trying to humanize the situation.
He nodded and glanced around, looking for Misty, but she was out of sight. I could see the fear in his eyes and his hand wavered as he wildly pointed the gun between us. I remembered the SWAT commander saying that anything could happen in one of these standoffs.
“Easy, I’m putting my gun down.” I reached slowly to the floor, laid down the gun, and kicked it a few feet away. The movement created enough of a distraction for the diver to slide across the room and get a better angle on him.
I held my hands up and started talking. “What if I get the rest of the boats and helicopter out of here?”
“That’s a start,” he said.
“Okay,” I nodded to the diver. With the gun still pointed Kyler’s head, he raised the radio to his mouth and spoke to the commander. He nodded to me.
“They’re going to pull back, but I need you to lower your weapon.”
He hesitated a moment before placing it on his knee. “You going to listen to me now?”
“Let’s get Misty out of the way first, then we’ll figure this out.” I didn’t wait for a response. “Misty?”
“Over here. I’m alright.”
Despite what she had put me through, I wasn’t hardened enough not to care for her well being. “Why don’t you go out the side door there and wait on the deck.”
“Okay. What are you going to do about Creep Show over there?”
Kyler’s face turned red and his hand went for the gun, but before he could raise it, the diver inched closer, making sure the boy saw him.
“Go,” I yelled. “Now!” I watched as she stayed low and I just caught a glimpse of her on hands and knees as she crawled to the door, opened it, and went out.
“Billie did the whole deal.” Kyler had dropped the gun and placed his head in his hands.
I recalled the bio of Billie Smith-Jensen: Defensive tackle from Venice, Louisiana. “Tell me,” I said, moving to the table and sitting next to him.
25
The words poured out of his mouth like a flood tide through a narrow pass.
“Billie killed the club manager and the girl?”
This threw me for a loop; I had expected the case to be closed after a full confession from the kid. Now he was diverting the blame to someone else. “So why take Misty hostage and bring her out here?”
“I was trying to protect us. Billie was the one who beat them the other night on the boat. They jumped overboard because of him.” He stared down at the floor.
I followed his gaze and saw the boat shoes. They had a ring of dried muck around them. Looking up, I saw he wasn’t wearing earrings.
“And you grabbed the girl from the beach?”
“I was freaking out about Misty and I saw Heather. The players had calmed down by then, and I thought I was doing the right thing.”
He probably had, not knowing Misty had found help and I was looking for her friend too. That solved the first mystery. “And the club? You were driving the van and both of you were at the club.” The diver was getting antsy behind me. I knew Kyler should be in cuffs and on his way to booking. I was deviating from standard procedure, but it was my case, and if I had him talking, I wasn’t going to stop.
“I was supposed to go pick them up and bring them back to the dock. Misty stayed in the van. When I got inside, I saw them harassing one of the girls, there were no bouncers there, so the manager tried to break it up.” He looked up at me. “He grabbed Billie, who went into a rage and killed him. I tried to stop him and he went after me,” he said, turning to show me a bruise on the left side of his neck.
That could explain the missing diamond. There was one more thing I had to know before we took him back to the mainland. “And what about the girl out here?”
“I couldn’t stop him.” He paused for a long minute to collect himself. “I asked Alex not to send me out alone with them. Most of the groups are different, kind of in awe at the whole thing. This one, with Billie leading them, was out of cont
rol.”
That explained the fight with Alex at the dock the other night. I would let the DA get the rest of the story. I had learned enough, but there was one more question I needed an answer to. “Why would you help him?”
“I just wanted an in when I get to school. You know, things would go a lot smoother for a freshman that knew some players. If I turned him in, I would be an outcast.”
The kid was a mess, but not a murderer and no longer a threat to anyone. I was getting anxious to end this and find out what happened in court. I needed to get back to my phone. “This is how it’s going to go,” I told him. “The officer there is going to tell everyone that we’re coming out.” I realized there were no handcuffs in either of our wetsuits. “You’ll have your hands above your head and will leave them there until told otherwise.”
“You’re arresting me?” His eyes darted around the room.
“Let’s just say we’re taking you in for questioning.” Unless Misty pressed charges, I didn’t know what to charge him with. According to him, Billie had committed both murders. He could be involved as an accessory, or in covering them up, but if he came clean this quickly to me, I could only imagine what he would tell the DA if they offered him a deal to testify. I looked at the kid, almost feeling sorry for him. The cocky attitude was gone, replaced by pure fear. He was smart enough to know how much his future depended on what happened over the next few hours. “If I were you, I might call my parents and get a lawyer to meet you at the station.”
I saw the conflict in his eyes between being a defiant teenager and a sensible adult. The conversation wouldn’t be easy and I hoped he had the guts to make the call.
“Thanks.” He seemed relieved.
“I need to get Misty off here first,” I said, rising from the table. It was time to end this and find out what happened with Justine.
“Can I talk to her?”
I thought about that for a minute. “I think it’s better if you don’t. She’s caused you enough trouble already.” He dropped his head and I tried to remember if I had ever felt that way about a girl. “I’ll talk to her.” I turned to the diver and asked him to keep an eye on the kid. He nodded and I left the house.
Misty was sitting on the deck swinging her feet in the void between the wood and water below. I could tell from her red and swollen eyes that she’d been crying. Still, I had a hard time sympathizing with her. “He wants to apologize,” I told her.
“That’s sweet.”
I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was calculating whether he had any value to her. Sometimes it’s hard not to take sides, even unintentionally. In this case I made a decision. If Kyler had a shot at turning this around, he didn’t need to talk to her. “We’re going to get you back to the mainland and checked out.”
“What happens after that?”
I saw something else in her expression and thought of Allie, promising myself I would do everything in my power not to let her be faced with this kind of decision. Her current employment situation was over, but in Miami, for a girl with her looks, there were plenty of options, and most didn’t ask for references. I knew there was nothing I could say to her that would help.
I left her there and returned to the house. The diver radioed his commander that the situation was diffused and to send two boats over. Seconds later, I heard engines start and looked out the window at the boats coming toward us. Grace was in the first, and I thought about letting her take Misty, but we had to deal with Billie. This battle might be over, but Billie was still out there and we needed a full statement from Kyler.
While I waited, I thought about Billie, probing my memory for every time I had seen him and how he acted. At the dock party, he had been the most boisterous and I had assumed then he was either drunker than the rest or he had a larger-than-life personality. His behavior on the field should have sent a red flag. When he had backed into coverage, tipped, and intercepted a ball, I had thought it a pretty athletic move for a kid his size. Then I remembered his celebration: prancing around and mocking his teammates, it had taken several whistles to stop him.
The boats were approaching. I waved Grace off and motioned for the second boat to dock. There were three officers aboard. Two held the boat to the dock, while one helped Misty aboard. The testosterone must have boosted her spirits and she went quietly. Honestly, I hoped this was the last I saw of her, but I doubted it. I watched them leave and noticed her body language as she flirted with the deputies.
After the boat was a safe distance from the pier, I waved Grace over. They docked, and I called inside for the boy to come out with his hands above his head. Grace cuffed him and read him his Miranda rights. He was helped aboard, followed by the diver. I climbed aboard last. “Can you get him in an interrogation room and call the DA?” I asked. “He’s not the killer.” The engine drowned out our conversation as we idled over to the structure where my boat was docked. I had decided to let Miami-Dade have the small fish and save the turf war for Billie.
26
When we reached the dock, I jumped out of the boat, and after agreeing to meet Grace at the station, ran toward the park service boat for my phone. Blood pounded in my ears from the adrenaline and anxiety and I tried to take a deep breath before pressing the home button. The screen was littered with alerts and messages from Martinez. He must have heard the SWAT call and was sitting in his office watching everything unfold on his screens. My hand trembled as I scrolled past his messages and found one from Justine: Need you ASAP.
I stopped reading and pressed the phone icon in the header. It was hard to hear her over the background noise, and when I first heard the voice on the other end, I had to glance at the screen to see if it was the right number.
“Dad?”
My heart flipped. “Allie?” I tried to recover. “Hey!”
“Hey to you, too.”
There was so much I wanted to ask and tell her I didn’t know where to start. “Where are you guys?”
“Some restaurant with your girlfriend.” She lowered her voice. “She’s pretty cool, Dad.”
My eyes started to water. “Can I speak to her? I’ll head right over.”
“Hey!” Justine said. “She’s nice.”
This was going too well and I wondered if Jane, my ex was with them, though I couldn’t imagine a scenario where she wasn’t. “Where are you guys? I’m heading back now.”
She gave me the name of a restaurant on the river with a dock. I thanked her, and put the phone away. Whatever speed I had gotten out of the boat before was exceeded by at least ten knots as it flew over the water. Twenty minutes later, I entered the river and had to slow. My phone couldn’t figure out whether I was walking, driving, or on a bus, but I found the restaurant. It took all the restraint I had to slow down, drop the fenders, and check the current. I wanted to slam into the dock and run to my daughter—and Justine.
I was on the dock when I saw her coming toward me and stood up with the end of the bow line still in my hand. She had grown over the year since I had last seen her. Fathers always thought their daughters were beautiful and she was every bit of that. I dropped the line and walked to her. I would have run, except she was only ten feet away. Lifting her off her feet, I hugged her tightly and could feel the intensity returned. “I’m so glad to see you,” I said, pushing myself back to look at her.
The little girl look was gone, replaced my mascara and some blush and I thought of Misty for a brief second. “Where’s your mom and Justine?”
“Up there, come on.” The little girl was back as she took my hand and led me to the table.
I had been more anxious about seeing Jane than Allie. It’s an odd thing after spending sixteen years with someone to find yourself on the other side of the fence. But I knew our breakup wasn’t about the usual suspects—sex and money—the classic relationship destroyers. Ours had been my work and the threat of bodily harm to her and Allie. I never blamed her for her actions, only the extent to which she took them. The other
fear of divorced dads now confronted me head on.
The round table buffered the lines between the two women. They sat across from each other, but the way they were leaning over and talking made them appear close—too close. Allie provided the necessary barrier by sitting between them. “Hi, Jane,” I said, not knowing what else to say to my ex who I’d just forced to appear in court. I leaned in and kissed Justine on the cheek and set my hand on her shoulder.
“Hi, Kurt,” Jane said.
“Allie looks great.” The small talk continued and I wondered where this was going. I was dying to talk to Justine about the hearing. As if sensing something, Jane rose and excused herself.
I held out my hands once she was out of sight. “Wow, I never expected this.”
“She’s not so bad. The judge ordered mediation, so it wasn’t that big a deal that you weren’t there. Jane knows she has to give you some visitation, but you’ll have to appear yourself for that one.“
“But, now?”
“She’s quite a girl. After the hearing she asked to see you.”
“It’s a huge deal and I don’t know how to thank you.”
She winked and shifted her eyes to Allie. I squeezed her shoulder and turned to my daughter. “Come on, tell me everything.”
Dinner went by in a blur, and I realized when Justine tapped my arm and handed me my phone, that I hadn’t touched my food or paid any attention to her or Jane. Grace’s name was on the screen and I snapped back to reality. I answered and asked her to hold on while I excused myself and went to the railing.
“What’s up?”
“This kid’s ready to spill everything. The DA just met with his lawyer and cut a deal. As long as his story holds up, he’ll get a break. He’s not eighteen yet, so that’s going to help the cause.”
Backwater Cove Page 15
