by Paul Carr
Crook shivered. “Maybe that’s what the killer had in mind. I don’t think the snake opened the cage on his own.”
Frowning, Dalton said, “We just don’t have much to go on. Have you heard anything from the CSIs?”
“No, nothing yet.”
Dalton called Tarver and put the phone on speaker. “What’s the status on DNA from the Gunn murder?”
“I got the results back a few minutes ago. All the blood at the scene turned out to be the victim’s, and it matched the blood on the steering wheel of the stolen car. No other DNA was found in either place. I’ll send you an email when I finish going over it.”
He had hoped for more, but got about what he expected. Professionals didn’t leave DNA behind, at least not their own. “Okay, thanks.” They hung up.
“So it’s confirmed,” Dalton said. “Jimmy Earl’s car was involved, either used by Earl himself, or stolen by someone wanting to frame him. Earl needed the money from the insurance proceeds, so he had a million-dollar motive, but if he did it I don’t understand how his battery cable got loosened. We need to get him in here.”
Dalton phoned Earl and asked him to come into the office.
“I thought you were done with me,” Earl said.
“We just have a few more questions.” He didn’t want to alarm him and have him take off.
Earl relented, said he could be there in fifteen minutes.
After Dalton got to his desk, Lieutenant Springer hurried over. “I got an email from Tarver about the DNA. It was the victim’s blood in the stolen car. You need to arrest Jimmy Earl.”
“I’m pretty sure somebody tried to frame him.”
“Are you kidding? I want you to pick him up.”
Dalton felt his face flush. “Have you taken over the investigation, Lieutenant?”
Springer gave him a smirk. “Well, I am your supervisor.”
Nodding, Dalton wanted to tell him to back off, or else, but thought better of it. “I just called Earl and asked him to come in.”
“When was that?”
Dalton glanced at the time on his computer. “Twenty minutes ago.”
“Then he’s probably running. Better put out a BOLO.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” As he stared at the lieutenant, the phone rang. The display indicated it was the desk sergeant, and he pressed the speaker button to answer.
“This is Duffy out front. You got a visitor. Man named Jimmy Earl.”
“Okay, I’ll come get him.” He left Springer standing there with a look of disappointment on his face.
Dalton retrieved Earl, stopped by Crook’s desk, and the three went to an interrogation room. When they sat and turned on the recorder, Dalton told Earl about the blood in his car.
“You have to believe me, it was stolen.” Perspiration beaded on the drummer’s face. His eyes darted between the two detectives.
“If that’s the case,” Dalton said, “How do you explain somebody getting your keys?”
“I don’t know. They were hanging on a hook in my kitchen. The housekeeper and some girlfriends were the only ones who could’ve taken them. But I don’t think they would’ve killed Riley.”
“We need their names.”
Earl took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, give me something to write on.”
Crook tore a sheet of paper from his notepad and handed it to him, along with a pen. “Include phone numbers and addresses, if you know them.”
Shaking his head, Earl twisted his mouth to the side and wrote. When he finished, he handed over the list. His penmanship looked like that of a third-grader.
Glancing over it, Dalton said, “How well did you know these women?”
“I’ve known a couple of them for a while. The others I just met recently.”
“Which ones would know about Wilbur Hess?”
Earl ran his fingers through his hair. “Aw, man.” He sighed. “I don’t know.” After a few seconds he took the list and put a mark by two names. “Wilbur came over while those two were there.”
“When was that?” Dalton asked.
“The day before Riley’s party.”
“So one of them could’ve taken the keys while you were out of the room?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“What about Wilbur? Could he have taken the keys?”
Earl’s eyes widened. “I forgot about him. I left him in the kitchen and went to the bedroom for some cash. He took the keys. He had to.”
That made sense. It could mean he was in on the plan from the beginning, but might not have known how it would end up.
“Was there any bad blood between him and Riley?”
The drummer shook his head. “Hmm, no, not really.”
“Sounds like you’re hedging.”
“Well, back when he was our roadie, Riley treated Wilbur like dirt. I’m sure he didn’t forget it.”
So Wilbur had a motive for getting even with the rocker.
“Okay, what did he have against you that would cause him to steal your car and set you up for a frame?”
“I’ve been thinking about that for the past few minutes. He and I got along okay. I once chewed him out for puncturing one of my drumheads with a mic stand while we were on tour. I had to scramble to get another one in time for the concert.”
“That’s it? He broke your drum?”
Shrugging, Earl said, “It’s the only run-in I can remember.”
“Did you buy a lot of cocaine from him?”
Earl cut his eyes away. “Spent nearly everything I made during an eight-month stretch.”
“Did you owe him any money?’
“Yeah, I owed him about eleven grand.”
“You think he could’ve taken your Camaro because of the debt?”
The rocker’s eyes widened. “Huh, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Do Casey and Sheffield know about the incident in Thailand that you related to me?”
“Maybe. I wasn’t exactly Riley’s confidant. I just happened to pick him up at the hospital, and he was still shook up and babbling. He probably told Colin. They were pretty thick.”
“They were good friends?”
“I don’t know if you’d call them good friends, but Riley probably talked to him more than the rest of us because they were the first two members of the band. A number of others came and went. Then me and Sheffield joined about the same time, and we’ve been with them close to ten years.” Earl seemed to realize he had used the present tense and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen now. It won’t be Redgunn without Riley.”
“Everybody should be pretty well set with the insurance proceeds.”
Shrugging, Earl said, “Well, yeah, for a while. Won’t last long, though.”
“You just talking about yourself or the others, too?”
“None of us have anything put back. I heard Colin is deep in debt, like me.”
When Dalton had spoken with Colin Casey, he said he earned over a million on the tours, and even more on record sales.
“What about record sales? Casey said you guys earn millions in royalties.”
Earl huffed a laugh. “Yeah, right. Record sales have tanked over the last few years. Riley was hoping to put together a deal with two brothers from Canada to produce a new album. But that’s out, now.”
It sounded as if Casey had misled them about his need for the insurance proceeds. That might warrant another talk with the guitarist.
“Tell me about Eon Harbor.”
The drummer’s brow furrowed. “Eon Harbor? You mean the hotel?”
Hotel? Dalton went along to see where it would lead. “Yeah, the hotel.”
“That’s where we stayed in Thailand while we were there on tour.”
“How did it happen that you stayed there?”
“You’d have to ask Wilbur. Well, if he wasn’t dead. He made all the reservations for us.”
“You know anything about Douglas Vici, the attorney?”
Earl shook his head. “Never heard of him.”
“Okay, back to Wilbur. When did he start dealing and stop being your roadie?”
“It was right after we got back from Thailand. We concentrated on songs for another album, and didn’t really need him.”
They finished up a few minutes later. As Crook walked Earl toward the front, Springer came out of the adjacent room where he had been watching through the one-way glass. He scowled at their guest, but didn’t say anything until they were out of earshot.
“Why are you letting him go?” Springer asked.
“He didn’t kill Gunn.”
“All the evidence points to him.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Crook came back and Springer said, “Do you agree with your partner on letting that guy go free?”
Dalton saw fear in Crook’s eyes as he said, “Yeah, we don’t think he did it.”
The lieutenant said, “You better be right,” and stomped off toward his office.
When he had gone, Crook said, “Are we gonna get in trouble over this?”
Dalton grinned. “Don’t sweat it. The only way we’ll be in trouble is if we don’t identify that killer pretty soon.” He went to his desk and phoned Jack Ringo.
“We just talked with one of the members of the Redgunn band. He said they stayed at the Eon Harbor Hotel when they were in Thailand, and Wilbur Hess arranged it for them. The Eon people did something to Riley Gunn while he was in Thailand, and Hess was part of it.”
Ringo remained quiet for a few beats, and then said, “You sure it’s the same group that owns the Key West Star?”
“Yes, no way it’s a coincidence. From all I gather, Hess was just an errand boy for the band, and Eon probably made him a better deal. He started dealing drugs right after the band arrived in Key West. I think the Eon guys had something to do with that, too.”
“Still sounds pretty farfetched to me. Hess was a drug dealer. They deal with bad people, and they die every day. It doesn’t take a conspiracy to get them killed.”
“Okay, I’ll buy that. Were you able to get Hess’s call record from his wireless carrier? He probably had conversations with whoever killed him.”
“We don’t have that yet, but I’ll check it out.” He hung up.
The dial tone droned in Dalton’s ear. So much for comparing notes. Maybe Ringo had too much on his plate. Or maybe he just wasn’t all that interested in solving a drug-dealer’s murder. Dalton knew somebody who could get Hess’s call history, but it wouldn’t be legal, and if anybody found out it would probably get him fired. Still, he’d keep that in the back of his mind in case Ringo became uncooperative.
It was too bad he hadn’t been able to stay longer at the Hess crime scene before the KWPD arrived. He wondered if he could get in there without being noticed. A drive-by might tell him if any uniforms were posted nearby.
On his way out, he stopped at Crook’s desk. “You playing at the club tonight?”
Crook smiled. “Yeah, and the Friday crowd should be even bigger than last night.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go check on some things. See if you can find any more stories about Eon Harbor. According to what Earl told us, they were probably responsible for what happened to Gunn in Thailand. The lawsuit between the elder Gunn and the owners of the Key West Star was probably in full swing, and they were looking for a way to get the old man to back off. They would have known about Redgunn and the Asian tour, so they offered Hess a deal on the hotel. He probably didn’t know what they had in mind at that point, and maybe never knew. It’s my guess that Eon’s attempt at blackmail didn’t work on the grandfather or Riley, so they chose plan B.”
Crook nodded. “Okay, I’ll do some more research.”
“Another thing, see if you can get some information on Colin Casey’s financial status. He led us to believe he was pretty well set, but Jimmy Earl seemed to think he needs money.”
Crook glanced at the time on his computer. “I have to leave by five. The band’ll crank up at happy hour.”
“Yeah, well, do what you can.” Dalton gave him a wan smile and headed out.
As he reached his car, his phone rang. Lola Ann. “Hey, how’s it going?”
“Okay,” Dalton said. “How about you?”
“Everything’s great. You want to get drinks and dinner later?”
The time on the dash showed a few minutes past 4 p.m., and he had already been running for twelve hours, with just a few hours’ sleep before that. He yawned. “When did you have in mind?” She probably wanted information about the Gunn murder, and he didn’t mind giving her some of the details. She might help him later if he needed it.
“How about seven?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
They decided on a place and hung up. He drove to Hess’s home and didn’t see any police cruisers, but residents were out in their yards working on boats and tending shrubbery, and a woman was walking a small dog. Too many eyes to get into the place without being seen. After dark would be better.
Crook called and said he’d found something on Colin Casey. “He bought a waterfront estate for $6 million.”
“When was that?”
“Couple of weeks ago.”
“That’s interesting. What about his finances?”
“I did a credit check, and he owes a lot of money. Mostly credit card debt. Maybe that’s what Jimmy Earl was talking about. His rating isn’t bad, though, so he must be keeping up with it.”
“It’s been a long day, so I’m heading home. Let’s get him in tomorrow morning and talk to him about it.”
Crook remained silent for a couple of seconds, and then said, “You’re working tomorrow?”
“Yeah, aren’t you?”
His partner sighed. “I guess so. What time?”
“Set him up for ten.”
“Okay, roger that. See you then.”
Dalton rolled into the marina a half-hour later and went to his cottage. Cupcake came in through the pet door and greeted him with a nuzzle to the knee and a purr. He wanted attention, maybe to go for a walk. Dalton felt too tired, so he placated him with a can of tuna.
A few minutes after falling into bed, he dropped off to sleep. It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when his alarm woke him two hours later. He showered, brushed his teeth, and headed out to meet Lola Ann.
As he left, Eric said from the deck. “I saw your car and figured you’d crashed. You going back out?”
“Yeah, there’s something I need to do. It’ll be late when I get back.”
****
Lola Ann stepped out of the car when he pulled in next to her. She looked as radiant and beautiful as ever.
“Right on time,” she said.
The sun was still up and would make the outside deck a scorcher, so they went into the restaurant bar and got a table in the corner. After they gave the waiter their drink orders, she said, “I heard you’re investigating the Riley Gunn murder.”
He grinned. “You heard right.”
“You weren’t going to tell me, you sneak.”
“I would’ve told you, when the time was right.”
“Yeah, after everybody else ran the story.”
“I gave you some pretty good stories a few months ago.”
She reached over and patted his hand. “Yes, you did. Anything you can tell me now, about Riley Gunn?”
Dalton shook his head. “Probably no more than you already know. He had a party the night he was killed, and we’ve interviewed everyone who attended. They all have alibis.”
“What about the drummer, Jimmy Earl. A source told me you found his car near the crime scene, and it had the victim’s blood on the steering wheel.”
He stared for a moment, his face heating up. “Who told you that?”
“Sorry, I can’t reveal my sources.”
Dalton wondered if someone in the sheriff’s office or the Key West PD had told her. It could be any of a number of people, but the first person who cam
e to mind was Springer. He had insisted on arresting Earl not long before Lola Ann called.
When he didn’t say more, she continued, “Well, you going to tell me about Earl, or not?”
He gave her a mocking smile. “Maybe your source will tell you.”
“Hey, don’t be that way.” She reached for his hand again and squeezed it.
He pulled away. “I know you have a job to do, and I’ll let you know when I have something you can use.” The drinks arrived, and he took a long slug from his beer bottle. It felt good going down his parched throat.
“I can’t tell you my source because I don’t know who he is. A guy called out of the blue and wouldn’t give me his name. The caller ID showed up as ‘Unknown.’”
Dalton nodded. Maybe he had overreacted. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t her fault. They ordered dinner, a shrimp salad for her, and grilled grouper for him. She had another drink, but he declined. Conversation remained light, the news of the anonymous source still on his mind. Maybe he would feed some information to Springer and see if it ended up with Lola Ann…or maybe he was just being paranoid. Later, in the parking lot, she invited him to her place.
“Maybe another time. There’s something I need to do.”
Giving him a pouty smile, she said, “Okay, I’ll hold you to that.” Her glistening eyes were like magnets in the glow of the streetlamps. She knew how to get what she wanted, but it wouldn’t work that night.
He headed back to Key West and to Hess’s house. There still were no police cars anywhere to be seen, and the residents seemed to have all headed inside. After parking in the driveway of a home with a Sale sign in the yard, he headed down the block and to the dead drug dealer’s back door. He stretched on gloves, peeled back crime scene tape, and picked the lock.
Inside, he felt his way through the kitchen using his phone for light, and glanced at the cage in the corner, glad the snake was gone. The place was an even bigger mess since the police had gone through it. He eased down the hall to the bedroom and to the closet. As expected, the bag of drugs was gone. Several boxes and pairs of shoes lay scattered. Down on his knees, he moved the debris out of the way and looked for any cracks in baseboard or cuts in the carpet. There didn’t seem to be any, so he stood and checked the inside walls and the ceiling, but didn’t find anything there, either.
