Death By Blue Water (A Hayden Kent Mystery Book 1)

by Kait Carson

  “I feel like I’m in a bad dream…” Hayden began.

  “Go over the story again, as much as you can remember. Tell them what you know. Resist the urge to explain or speculate. Just the facts, ma’am.”

  Hayden appreciated Grant’s attempt to lighten the mood, but couldn’t manage a smile. “I don’t know much. Only what I found.”

  Grant patted her hand “Then that’s what you tell them.” He paused a moment. His eyes drilled into Hayden’s. “Is there anything you’re not telling me?”

  A feeling like bubbling soda in her veins shot through her. He knew her too well. Nothing about Sunday, but everything about Friday and Saturday. She was grateful when the door opened, cutting off any reply she could make. Officer Barton entered accompanied by a man dressed in civilian clothes, who Barton introduced as Detective Landsdown.

  “Thank you for coming,” the detective said. “We’ll try to get you out of here as quickly as possible.” He held up a small tape recorder. “Do you mind? We don’t have a shorthand reporter available.”

  “If it will get us out quickly, no. We don’t mind,” Grant said. “We’ll want a copy of the transcript, and we reserve the right to discontinue taping or go off the record at any time.”

  Landsdown nodded in agreement and pushed the button. He cleared his throat. The sound seemed unnaturally loud in the small room. He announced the date, time, and who was present. Then he filled about fifteen minutes asking general non-threatening questions. Hayden was familiar with the technique from being present at numerous depositions. Instead of relaxing her, her heart pounded in her chest waiting for the detective to get to the meat of the interview.

  “Why were you diving the Humboldt?”

  Her fists clenched in her lap at the change of direction. Carefully choosing her words and sticking to bald facts, Hayden repeated what she had told Paul and Officer Kirby. She’d gotten to the part about finding the body when Landsdown interrupted.

  “How well did you know the victim?”

  A trickle of sweat ran down her back. “I don’t think I did.”

  “Don’t think. What does that mean? You either did or you didn’t.” The detective leaned forward and emphasized his words by mashing his index finger against the table.

  “I’d like to see some kind of evidence supporting that question. Ms. Kent has never said or implied she knew the deceased.” Grant leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

  The detective stood and went to the heavy metal door. “I’ll bring the report in. Are you her attorney? We thought you were accompanying her in an employer/employee capacity.”

  “Does she need an attorney?” Grant shot back.

  “No. No one needs an attorney in this matter. Not yet. Nobody’s charged. We’re looking for the background facts here, not speculating.”

  Officer Barton said, “Detective Landsdown is leaving the room for a moment.” Her words reinforced the notion of a tape recorder and possibly a video camera capturing the scene. Would they have to get permission for that too? Hayden didn’t know. She made a mental note to ask Grant.

  Grant rubbed his eyes again. It was his “tell.” He did it when he was nervous and didn’t know what was best for his client. Hayden’s mouth went dry. His lack of self-confidence frightened her.

  To calm herself, Hayden sat back and took in her surroundings again. The room had no windows and inadequate air conditioning. She heard the off/on cycle of an air conditioner compressor rumbling through the small ceiling vents, but the air didn’t seem to circulate. Droplets of perspiration gathered in her hairline at the nape of her neck. A nervous energy filled her. Her thoughts ricocheted like an uncontrolled pin ball game in her brain.

  The format of the questioning troubled her. She’d found a dead accident victim. At least that’s what she thought. The setting and the questions made her speculate that the death was anything but an accident.

  Landsdown returned to the room and handed Grant a file. Hayden, seated next to him, pushed herself upright and tried to read over his shoulder.

  “Please have a seat, Ms. Kent.” Barton partially stood as she spoke. Her tone made the words an order, not a request.

  “But it’s my file.” Hayden danced from foot to foot in confusion.

  “No, ma’am. It’s the incident file.”

  Grant closed the file and handed it back to Landsdown. “Did you recognize the man in the Humboldt?” he asked.

  “No, Grant. Should I have? Is he someone you think I know?”

  Instead of answering, he said, “Continue your statement and then I’m sure we can leave and go back to the office.”

  Despite the heat, Hayden shivered. More than anything she wanted to go home, not back to work. Get out of this little airless room and cuddle up in bed with Tiger Cat. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Can you play back the tape? I’m not sure where I left off.”

  Landsdown nodded and Barton keyed the rewind button on the small recorder. A high-pitched squeal filled the air for a few seconds. A voice Hayden barely recognized as her own erupted from the microphone.

  Memory refreshed, Hayden continued carefully concentrating on just the facts. Both Barton and Landsdown interrupted from time to time. Their questions jumped around all parts of her story. When she finished, she sat silently for a moment, wondering if Grant would signal the end of the interview.

  “Are we finished here?” he asked.

  Hayden’s relief was short-lived when Landsdown shook his head. “When you descended initially, did you see any indication someone was on the wreck?” Landsdown asked for the third time.

  Frustration tinged her voice. Hayden responded sharply, “No. There were no other boats on the mooring balls. I couldn’t see into the wheelhouse coming down the line. In fact, I didn’t even realize the wheelhouse had an opening in the roof until the second dive. The one with the Coast Guard lieutenant.”

  “And you claim to be familiar with the wreck?”

  Hayden heard the disbelief in the detective’s voice.

  “Yes. I’ve been down there multiple times. I don’t generally go into the upper wheelhouse, I do occasionally enter the lower cabins and one time I swam up the spiral staircase. The upper wheelhouse seems so small…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t like going into overheads. Even when I dive the wreck with a group, I stay outside and watch if anyone goes into the upper deck wheelhouse.”

  “Why?”

  “I just said.”

  “No, why watch?”

  “In case I have to go in, if my dive buddy got in trouble, I’d go in. I’ve never gone to the roof of the room though. Never swam over the wheelhouse. Always around it and I never realized it had a partial opening.”

  “You don’t think the anchor caused the break in the roof structure.”

  Grant’s admonition about speculation rang in her head. She considered her answer carefully, and not seeing any harm said, “No. From what I saw, there was little fresh damage. The floor under and around the anchor had litter, but not chunks of it.”

  “What made you go in this time?”

  “I didn’t go in.” Hayden gritted her teeth in frustration and looked at Grant for help. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Didn’t these people listen? Forcing her voice level, she continued, “I told you what happened and how I found the man. Without the grouper, I may not have gone to the wheelhouse at all. Especially since I had no buddy with me.”

  “And you determined the amount of litter as you call it from the outside?”

  “Yes. I didn’t inspect the roof so I can’t say what kind of fresh damage the upper surface had, but there was not a lot of junk on the floor.”

  “Why did you dive alone?” Landsdown tapped the tabletop with the back of his pencil. The eraser made a light t
hunking noise.

  “I had some thinking to do. I think best underwater. I have some decisions to make and I want to have a clear head to do it with.”

  “Such as?”

  “That’s none of your business.” Color flooded her face. Grant looked at her curiously. She did not intend to elaborate for these people. Her personal life concerned none of them. Nor did it concern what she found on the wreck.

  “Why don’t you tell us, and let us decide whether it concerns us.” Landsdown smiled briefly as he spoke. The smile never reached his eyes.

  “I’d like to go now. I got no sleep last night. I’m tired, it’s hot, and I think we covered everything that’s germane.” Hayden stood again hoping she could wrest control of the meeting from the officer and detective. She wondered if she could open the door or if it had some kind of controlled lock mechanism. There had to be an escape route in case an interview turned violent. She looked at the three other people around the table. A hopeless feeling chilled her stomach. She resumed her seat and chided herself for acting like a civilian. She was a paralegal. Even though she’d never been in an interrogation room, she’d seen enough transcripts to know she was behaving like a fool.

  “Okay,” Landsdown said as if no interruption occurred, “what kind of decisions?”

  “May I have a moment alone with my client?” Grant asked.

  Hayden’s jaw tightened at the reference to her as a client. What was in that file?

  “This isn’t an interrogation, counselor. We’re only getting a statement here.”

  “So the answer is no?” Grant snapped his leather notebook portfolio shut and stood. “Have Ms. Kent’s statement typed up, get a copy to my office, and I’ll review it and have her sign it.” He pulled a card from his card case and handed it to Officer Barton. “We’re leaving now. She is right. Her personal reasons for diving have no bearing on your investigation at this stage. If it develops they do, then we’ll discuss them.” He glanced at the red light on the still recording tape machine. “I’d like a copy of the tape of this session as well.”

  Landsdown and Barton looked like Grant slapped them. Barton looked at the detective, who responded with a shrug. “Okay, we’ll get the statement to you. Thank you for your time and for coming down to speak with us.” Landsdown recited the pro forma departure speech as he opened the door to the tiny room.

  Hayden and Grant moved down the long corridor through the lobby and across the parking lot without speaking. The silence was uncomfortable, but Hayden couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  He opened the door to the Jag for her. As she stepped past him he said, “We have to talk.”

  Seven

  “Thank you, Grant,” Hayden said. She didn’t want to open the door to his last statement. The red car headed north as it pulled out of the police station parking lot. “Where are we going?”

  “Even the condemned man gets a hearty meal.” His grey green eyes sparkled.

  By tacit agreement, they made small talk on the way to the restaurant. Hayden knew Grant was giving her time and space to calm down and digest the interview. She could almost see the wheels of his mind spinning as he ordered his thoughts and looked for holes in her testimony.

  El Senor Loco, Hayden’s favorite Mexican restaurant, overlooked Florida Bay. In a few hours, tourists and locals vying for window seats would fill the restaurant. Right now, it would be empty.

  The restaurant had the reputation of being the best place to see the “green flash.” The sunset phenomenon was actually due to the level of pollution in the air but the restaurant’s menu attributed it to the unique characteristics of the Florida Keys. It also offered a free drink to anyone who saw it. Local legend claimed the vision guaranteed good luck for life.

  As predicted, they had the restaurant to themselves and the prized window seats were still available. “I saw it once, you know.” Hayden said as she took a seat facing the west-looking window. Seeing the look on Grant’s face, she picked up the menu and pointed to the story. “The green flash. I saw it from the road. It flashed right over the old ‘Welcome to Tavernier’ sign. The one that used to mark the bridge leaving Key Largo.”

  Grant cocked an eyebrow in her direction as the waitress put a large basket of tortilla chips and two bowls of salsa on the table.

  Surprised at her hunger, Hayden smiled her thanks to the waitress and dug into the tortilla chips, heaping them with the tangy salsa.

  “I was a little surprised at how you conducted yourself in there,” Grant said. “You know better than to get emotional.”

  The chip crumbled in her fingers. The last thing she’d expected was a reprimand.

  “You need to tell me about the personal issues, Hayden.” He reached into his messenger style briefcase and pulled out his notebook portfolio, placing it on the table next to his chip plate. “And whatever it is that you haven’t told me.”

  Hayden had seen him behave like this with clients, but never with her. It struck her forcibly that he had volunteered as her attorney when they were at the police station. At the time, she’d thought he did it so he could take control. Now she wondered if he did it because she needed a lawyer.

  Not yet ready to discuss her personal issues, she tried to buy time. “What’s in the report, Grant? Am I in trouble? Do I need you for a lawyer right now?” A familiar throbbing started behind her eyes. She saw dancing lights, the aura before a migraine hit. Oh God, no. Not this, don’t let me get sick here. Hayden rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a shiny envelope that she ripped open. She popped the tablet under her tongue. Relief, if it came, would be in about twenty minutes. If it didn’t, she could look forward to excruciating pain, nausea, and the possibility of losing lunch.

  “Migraine?” Grant asked. His ex-wife had suffered from them and he’d seen Hayden go through it as well.

  “Yes, let’s hope the meds work. If not, given the lack of sleep and the tension, I may lose the ability to make a coherent sentence. We’ll see.”

  “Then let’s be glad that the migraine waited until after the police questioned you. Personal issues?” He pressed the question.

  He was being relentless but worse, he was right. She had acted stupidly. Fingering the bright blue tablecloth with one hand and tracing the embroidery with the other, Hayden said, “Kevin dumped me last week. He called me to do it. I thought he was going to suggest we move in together and he dumped me. Took up with a tourist girl whose family bought one of the million dollar mile mansions.” Once she said the words, they were easier to bear somehow.

  She looked up at Grant and saw sympathy mixed with something else, shock maybe, cross his face. “I couldn’t believe it when he told me. Someone he just met...and he sounded like he’d known her forever. It made me doubt my man picker, you know.”

  “Hayden, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought you two would be looking for a notary to do the wedding.” Grant seemed truly sorry. Kevin and Grant were fellow anglers and they had begun to develop a friendship over the year he and Hayden had been seeing each other. “That stinks. He may realize what he’s giving up in you and come back. This could be cold feet.” Grant’s eyes bored into hers. “Is that what you’re hoping for?”

  “Nah. I wouldn’t take him back. I’d always be waiting for the other shoe to drop again. Her name is Samantha something. Can’t remember the last name. Pennington, Pemberton, Pencomb. Something with a Pen.” She dropped her face to her hands and massaged her temples.

  “And that’s why you dove the Humboldt this Sunday? To come to terms with the relationship? Why didn’t you go sooner?”

  Hayden let her mind wander back to the Monday call. The memory still smarted, but the pain was lessening, or maybe the coming migraine pain overshadowed it.

  She directed a weak smile at Grant. “He’s not the first to dump me. Anyway, Kevin called Thursday at work to say
his brother Richard would be over Friday to pick up his stuff. Then he told me his brother would show me a boat he had for sale if I followed him to the marina.” She gave a sound between a snort and a sigh. “Picking up his stuff made it so real.” Tears bit the back of her eyelids. “That’s when I arranged the dive. Cappy was booked on Saturday. I wanted to be underwater.” She didn’t share that she wanted to run her tongue over the wound and see how bad it hurt. And she wanted to be all alone when she did it. A small smile of pride played around her mouth. She’d kept a stiff upper lip until she was underwater where her unwitnessed tears mingled with the sea. “He had no other dives scheduled for Sunday. I persuaded him to take me alone.”

  Grant made a note on his pad. “And when Richard showed up? It had to be painful for you. What happened?”

  “He never did. Never saw him. I had a migraine on Friday. I canceled him.”

  “So you didn’t see his brother on Friday? How did you get his number?”

  “He called me Friday morning to confirm plans. I dialed him back from the phone’s memory.” She answered the last question first. “Not only did I not see him on Friday, I’ve never seen him.”

  Grant raised his eyebrows in response. Seeing the gesture, she continued, “When we were together Kevin told me he lived in North Florida, up around Jacksonville, or maybe it was Tallahassee, I don’t remember...I know Richard’s older by a couple of years. I hoped there’d be a family resemblance so I’d recognize him. I packed Kevin’s stuff and had it ready to go. Since it had to happen, I wanted it done.” Hayden experimentally covered each eye with a hand. She still saw the auras but they seemed to be diminishing. That could be good news, or it could mean the pain was on the way.

  “How’s the headache?”

  “Testing,” Hayden said, and smiled as the lights flashed in front of her eyes. She could tell the intensity of the headache by the color of the lights. These were silver and electric blue. It was going to be a beauty.