by RP Dahlke
"No one has spoken to you about the dead girl, or Spencer's interrogation at the police station?"
"Spoken? They're all waiting for me to ask the questions. Astrid, Booth, Spencer and Jeff all know I'm a cop. That leaves Fred McGee, Ida and Wally and Myne, but that's only because I haven't cornered them yet." She wasn't ready to mention her conversation with Ida. She'd talk to Bruce first then see what he could dig up on Wally.
Then he surprised her by asking, "Why did you sail to Mexico alone?"
"You mean why didn't I come with my fiancé?" She momentarily thought about telling the chief inspector about David's grand schemes and political aspirations, but remembered she needed to keep as much of her life private as possible. Besides, he was a married man, no, make that a Mexican-Italian married man, and might think her susceptible to an affair should she appear in the least bit vulnerable.
"Well," she said, "just because I obviously had some time on my hands didn't mean my fiancé would be able to get away from his job."
His hands did a tap dance on the steering wheel. "What does he do that is so important he can't take a vacation with the woman he is about to marry?"
"He's with the district attorney's office."
The car slid into the entrance of her marina hotel. Her mixed feelings about an evening spent with a married policeman were interrupted by the sight of several policemen clustered at the entrance to the hotel. Raul said, "Wait here, please. I will see what this is all about."
Chapter Ten:
Raul got out of his car and Katy watched as he shook off his relaxed demeanor from earlier in the evening, squared his shoulders and marched for the knot of police next to the entrance. At his approach the men gratefully broke rank to include him. Minutes passed, he listened, nodded, then held up a hand and directed first one and then another officer to different points.
He hurried back to the car, got in and started the engine. "I turned off my cell phone, which I should never do, even if I am off duty. I will drop you off on the other side of the hotel away from the curious."
"What's happened?"
He curved the big Mercedes around to a darkened corner of the hotel, parked, and keeping the car idling said, "Please, go now."
It was police business, she knew the drill; still, she felt an almost visceral feeling of despair, even abandonment at this sudden rush to get her out of his car. She gritted her teeth and did as he asked, pulled open the door and got out.
Ducking behind the building, she could hear him put the car in gear and drive away.
Disoriented in the dark alley, she hugged the wall and proceeded to follow it all the way to the marina security fence. The marina, she noticed, was strangely silent under the pale yellow sodium lights. Not one single sailor en route to a late shower, no guards to greet her as they pedaled past on bikes, their radios banging against their knees as they checked dock lines and fenders for damage against the errant tide.
Something was very wrong.
Using her marina key card, she walked through her gate. On the dock, boaters gestured, voices rising and falling in agitation as they clustered around a dock slip.
She pushed through the crowd to where a man stood offering redundant advice to a frustrated policeman poking at an object in the water with a boat hook.
She turned to the person next to her and asked, "What's going on?"
"Floater," he said, staring at the dark shape in the water.
One of the dock guards tried to grab at the clothing with a boat hook, but the body rolled away as if dodging capture.
An American pointed at the water and, in exaggerated English, said, "Drag him with the hook over here. No! Here, aquí. To the dock … damn Mexicans can't understand English… no, no, not that way, you imbecile."
Seeing Ida and Wally huddled together, she tapped the woman's shoulder. "Do you know who it is?" Ida acknowledged her with a stiff nod then shook her head, unable to say any more.
Wally pointed to a beam of light running over the water. "P—p—police are here."
Fred, the magician, stood at the edge of the crowd, a bicycle at his hip and a helmet under his arm. Though he appeared to be interested in the doings, he didn't try to help, Katy noticed, and his eyes kept swinging from one side of the group to another. Katy followed his stare and saw Myne clinging to Jeff Cook, Spencer's captain.
"No, turn your pole the other way," another boater said. "Use it to snag the damn shirt."
Edging closer to the front gave Katy a better visual on Fred. In another moment, his pebbled bicycle shoes clacked across the wooden dock as he ran to intercept Astrid, her claws extended and aiming for Myne's back.
Fred, missing his chance, scrambled out of the way as the two girls rolled around the wooden dock.
Astrid got the upper hand and, grabbing a handful of Myne's long curls, viciously slammed her head onto the planks. Momentarily stunned, Myne appeared to collapse, then as Astrid loosened her grip to stand, she wriggled out from under her attacker and kicked at the other girl's head. The kick sliced open Astrid's cheek. Furious, Astrid reached out and shoved, giving Myne another taste of the splintered wood. With a fierce howl of pain, Myne grabbed Astrid's shirt and yanked hard, and using the momentum, tucked her knees into Astrid's midsection and tossed her over her head to land on the boards. Astrid lay moaning on the dock while Myne bounced up, knees bent, talons clenched and ready.
Jeff tried to reach for her, but when she snarled at him, he backed off. Astrid turned over and instead of getting up, kicked out at Myne with a spike-heeled boot. Quick as a mongoose, Myne caught Astrid's boot and twisted, causing the girl to roll painfully onto her stomach. Now, with booted foot in hand, Myne braced and yanked backwards.
This time, Astrid's forehead hit the dock hard enough that Katy could hear the crack as Astrid's head hit the wood. Astrid rolled over clutching her head, then struggled to her feet, fists clenched.
Katy stepped between the two girls to stop the fight. "Enough!" But Astrid had already let fly the roundhouse meant for Myne and the fist slammed into Katy's left cheek, snapping her head back. In an automatic motion, she ducked, swung and clipped Astrid under her chin and regretfully watched as the girl collapsed into a heap on the dock.
A few people applauded until they were shushed with a quick reminder of why they were here. Katy then took the initiative to push the stunned Jeff at Myne. He nodded and dragged her away, murmuring softly in her ear.
Fred moved in to peer down at Astrid spread-eagled and out cold on the dock. When he reached down to shake her, she opened her eyes and groaned. Katy was surprised to see him gently pull her to her feet and, holding her protectively to his side, move away towards his boat.
With the show over, Katy and the rest of the boaters went back to watching the guard try to snag the floater. Someone muttered an oath and voices rose and fell in disgust.
Then Katy felt Raul Vignaroli next to her. "I have my men at the gate. No one is to leave," he whispered, then moved off to where the guard was now being helped by two uniformed policemen.
She saw that the body was now up against the side of the slip. Stepping up to the front of the crowd she said, "Excuse me, Inspector Vignaroli, I'm sure you know it's going to be impossible to bring the body out of the water without a hoist. If you'll allow me?" When he nodded, she pointed to a sailboat in the adjoining slip. "Is the owner here?"
The guy next to her said, "He won't be back till next summer, miss."
"We'll use his rigging. I'll get my sling and we'll move this boom out over the water, pay out enough line, attach his main halyard to the sling and winch the body up onto the dock."
Without waiting for a reply, Katy ran to her boat and by the time she got back, one sailor had the main halyard around a self-tailing winch and another had uncovered the main mast, released the boom from its cradle and moved it over the deck for the line to cleat onto the sling.
With the sling in her hand, she said, "Someone's going to have to get into the water,
work the sling under him."
A few of the Mexican policemen shuffled their feet, but it was Wally who removed his shoes and shirt and slipped into the water. With the body wedged up against the dock he worked the sling underneath, then clipped the snap-shackle onto the main halyard and twirling a finger, indicated that someone could start winching.
Scattered applause went up at the sight of the limp, dripping body being hoisted up onto the dock. The crowd murmured, speculating as to whom the floater might be, but they all went silent when they saw the wet strands of gray hair covering the face, the Hawaiian shirt gaped open to show the long belly scar.
Wally stumbled over his words finally getting it out. "B—B—Booth."
A deep and heartfelt moan went up. It was one of their own.
Raul stepped forward and bending down, tilted the man's head from one side to the other then lifted an eyelid. Katy knew he was looking for signs of strangulation. He stood up and indicated with a roll of his hand that his policemen were expected to go do something and quickly. To a man, they all took off running for the gate.
Katy heard someone next to her say, "You're gonna have a hell of a shiner tomorrow, kiddo."
"Gabe!" she hissed, turning to him before she could think about the wisdom of doing so. "What're you doing here?"
He shushed her, and with his hand still at his side, pressed something small, plastic and rectangular into hers.
"What…?"
"Not now. Come to my trailer later, when he's gone."
She watched him fade into the background and slowly move up the dock for the gate.
By the time Raul turned around again, Gabe had disappeared behind the cars in the parking lot.
Raul, now all business, swept them all into a line-up with Katy on the far left. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he asked the obvious. She mumbled something about a dinner out and he dismissed her with a curt nod and went on to the next person.
She opened her boat and went below, heatedly tossing her fringed shawl on the bed. Damn. It was his investigation, but if he would only leave it to her, she might have gotten more out of the stunned boaters. That was why she was here, wasn't it? To get the witnesses to talk about their own? She saw the shock on their faces. None of them expected it to be Booth. But then, not all of them were there, were they? Spencer was conspicuously absent. Myne, Astrid, Jeff and Fred left at her prodding, didn't they? She hoped Inspector Vignaroli got what he wanted out of the crowd, because tomorrow, by God, they would all become clams again.
Booth. Did he walk off the end of the dock because he was drunk? Or did someone push him? And what was it that Gabe put into her hand? She was still tightly clutching it when she got back into her boat.
She unclenched her fist and a little black tape cassette tumbled onto her bed.
Chapter Eleven:
When Inspector Vignaroli and the last of the boaters had finally cleared the docks, Katy climbed out of her boat and, with more calm than she felt, walked through the security gate and up the rocky path to the RV park, where Gabe waited for her in his little trailer.
"Nobody follow you?" he asked, suspiciously eyeing the dark beyond her.
"I didn't hear anyone."
Satisfied that no one was lurking outside, he pulled her inside his tin can and motioned her to the small banquette.
"Want some tea?"
She waggled the tape cassette she held in her hand and said, "I'd rather you tell me what this is and why it's important."
"Did you play it?"
"Who has a tape deck anymore?"
"I do. They're dirt cheap here." He took it out of her hand and slipped it into a player, sat down opposite her and pressed the play button.
At the distinct rumble of Inspector Vignaroli's voice, she sputtered, "That's…"
He shushed her. "Wait. Damn it—missed what he said. Let me run it again." There was Raul's voice again, in a preoccupied tone of a busy man answering a question. Yes, it is possible, Booth, let me know as soon as you find out.
Katy pointed at the player. "He's responding to a question that's not on the tape. Is there no other voice on it but Raul's? Where'd you get this?"
"Your Raul is the only one on the tape. As for where I found it, I was outside my trailer getting a smoke. I heard angry voices coming from the marina and I worried you were in trouble so I came down to see what all the fuss was about. By the time I got here, it was all quiet again. That's when I see this little cassette next to the gate. So where were you tonight?... Good God, you were on a date with Inspector Vinegar!"
Katy willed her rising anger back under her skin. "It wasn't a date. If you will remember, I'm helping his investigation, so we can both get out of here."
"You can't trust him, you know."
She snorted. "Yeah, Spencer's a dirtbag who's surviving on very shaky ground right now."
"Not him, I'm referring to your adorable chief inspector."
"Why? Because he's a cop? You keep forgetting I'm one of those, too."
"You should've turned me in when you had the chance."
"Too late for that. Gabe, a tape like this is used for blackmail. Do you swear that you found this next to the gate?"
"Of course I did. What're you saying?"
"You know these people, don't you? Booth, Spencer, right?"
"I didn't have anything to do with Booth's death and I've never seen this tape before tonight."
"It certainly looks suspicious."
"No, it doesn't," he snarled at her. "It looks bad for your chief inspector."
"Maybe you're right. But he's got the local police department on his side, and you're just another gringo hanging out in Mexico because you've got nowhere else to go."
"You should worry more about Inspector Vinegar, maybe he dropped it."
She shook her head. "Timing doesn't fit. You found the tape after he picked me up and before we got back. What was Booth asking?"
"Only Booth and your inspector know that."
She held out her hand for the tape and Gabe popped the tape out of the player and handed it to her.
"They all know you're a cop, right?"
She sighed. "Yeah, I got that pretty much from the moment I arrived."
"Katy, let me help you."
"How?"
"I don't know. Give me something to do."
"Antonio's, the place where the girl worked. Did you know her?"
His eyes skipped off and settled on a corner. "That's not a crime. I'm all alone down here. I've been alone since I left the States. I'd like to go home, clear my name, have a life, but all I hear from you is, 'No, Gabe, that won't do.'"
She held up a hand. "Stop it." She sat drumming her fingers on the table top then said, "I'm here under duress, too. If I don't help either prove Spencer's the perp or uncover the real killer, Inspector Vignaroli will send you home in chains and you'll never be able to clear your name."
Tears welled up in his eyes and he reached out to grab both her hands in his. "You still love me, don't you, Whisper?"
She jerked her hands out of his, slid out from behind the table and with one hand on the door knob, looked back; the silly moonstruck grin was still plastered across his face.
"If you think…. Good God! You're still an idiot!”
He stood up and reached for her, but the thunderous expression on her face stopped him. "Wait. Don't go yet. I'm sorry, I got it wrong again. Look, I've been living in a time warp down here, dreaming of you and home and everything I left behind, and then you appear out of the blue and all I can think of is how can I make it right between us. I don't want to mess things up again, so let me help, okay?" When she didn't bolt, he said softly, "Will you sit down again… please? I promise we'll only talk about the case."
She stood where she was, lips tight, her glare a tiny bit less than it was a minute before, except her hand was still on the door knob.
He watched for a sign that she might be weakening. "Come on, Katy, you name it, I'll do it."<
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"You want to help? Tell me about Antonio's and the girl."
He turned away to get cups out of the overhead cupboard, but not before she saw the relief spread across his face.
He said, "I knew her, but not in the biblical sense. Way too young for me. Girls there are supposed to be eighteen, but they all have fake IDs."
"Like the sixteen-year-old I found in the water."
"It's no secret. They sell the prettiest ones on their way up to the border. They're broke, uneducated and desperate. How're they going to get all the way back to Honduras or Guatemala? Did you think the Mexican government gives them a bus ride home? That's the U S of A, sweet-cheeks, not Mexico."
He handed her a mug full of steaming hot water and a tea bag. "Sugar's in that covered dish. Look, the two of us can knock out that list in half the time. Then you can go home."
She picked up the spoon he handed her and punched her tea bag down into the hot water. "I need the local gossip on the magician's assistant, Astrid Del Mar. See if you can find out her real name, any connections to Spencer Bobbitt."
"Sure, I can do that. She lives on his boat, right?"
"No," she said, "that's the other one, Myne. Astrid said she lives aboard at Bandido's next to Baja Naval."
"Bandido's, huh? Do you know if she's working tonight?"
At her intake of breath, he laughed. "You aren't going to go all moral on me now, are you, Whisper?"
"Don't call me that, and if you get caught…"
"What—they send me back to the States in chains?" He turned to rummage through a drawer. Pulling out a folded black leather case, he tugged on the string and unfolded a set of locksmith tools.
"Burglary tools—is this the way you've managed to get by all these years?"
"If I told you they came with the trailer, would you believe me?" At the hard set of her mouth, he snorted and said, "Then don't ask if you don't want to know."
"If Raul gets a hint of what you're doing…"
His head jerked up. "It's Raul now, is it? You're the one who should be careful. If that big Mercedes says anything, he's connected."
