Shaw walked Karla to the ferry terminal, where she would meet Flynn and Morton. She shook his hand in farewell, holding it for just a moment longer than a business handshake.
He reversed course down Front Street to the marina. Hollis had sailed from Seattle to give Shaw a lift. The Francesca was already moored in a guest slip just past the fuel pier. Shaw could see the barrel-chested figure of Hollis Brant sitting on the foredeck, leaning back against one of the railing stanchions as he worked on something with his hands.
“Always liked gingers,” Hollis said as Shaw drew near. “They’ve got spirit.”
Shaw looked back the way he’d come. No way Hollis could have spotted Karla with him from this distance.
“Carnac the Magnificent knows all.” Hollis set down the bilge pump he’d been repairing on a towel and picked up a paper cup. “Plus, I went for coffee and saw you and the girl sitting in the restaurant.”
“Who the hell is Carnac the Magnificent?”
“Johnny Carson. Before your time. You want to untie that line there, we’ll get going.”
Shaw looked at the dismantled pump. “If you’re sure we won’t sink.”
“What’s certain in this life?” Hollis wrapped the pieces of the pump in the towel and stuck the bundle into his open toolbox. He closed the latch and began walking crablike along the narrow side deck toward the stern. “You’re in a fine mood.”
“The new job went south fast. I found a dead man on the beach last night.”
Hollis’s toolbox banged against the side of the cabin as he turned around. “That’s southerly all right. For that poor soul most of all. Jesus Mary.”
“It’s not over. The betting line is that he was murdered.”
After Shaw had cast off, he joined Hollis on the flybridge above the cabin. Over the steady thrum of the twin diesels, he recounted his time on Briar Bay Island. Hollis grunted with satisfaction at hearing of the scuffle with Kilbane and puzzled along with Shaw at the strange assembly of executives and their lieutenants at dinner.
It wasn’t until they were almost two miles out from the harbor, far enough to change course and make a beeline for the open water south of the islands, that Shaw got to finding Bao’s sodden corpse trapped in the rocky shore. When Shaw told Hollis the part about breaking into the gallery and finding the hastily assembled laboratory, the older man sat down heavily in the helm chair.
“You have the strangest days, Van,” he said.
“The nights aren’t proving much better. I’m not even positive why Rohner hired me. If it wasn’t to protect his art collection, was it because he suspected that a thief was after whatever they had in the lab? There was nothing there that looked worth the trouble. And if his whole story about crazy tycoons filching one another’s valuables was bullshit, why walk me through the gallery? Was Bao a thief himself? Or just an innocent who took a walk at the wrong damned time?”
“Easy. It’ll sort itself out.”
Shaw inhaled deeply, willing the salt air to clear his head as well as his lungs. “I don’t like being a witness. It gets me on cops’ radar.”
Hollis shuddered. “Give me peace. But you can’t be a serious suspect. You said the man was positively exsanguinated by the time you found him.”
Shaw ticked off the points on his fingers. “I’m not rich like the Rohners. I’m not a corporate exec like the guests, or even an employee. And I’ve got a record. Who would you look hard at if you were Sheriff Dayle?”
“But why would you kill the poor fellow?”
“They can invent why. Maybe I tried to mug Bao. Or he hit on me and I’m a gay basher. None of it may ultimately stick, but if they rule it a homicide, it’s me they’ll grill for the next few weeks.”
“Time to call your lawyer.”
Shaw agreed. He’d already left Ganz a message. Though hiding behind Ganz’s legal shield wasn’t his first order of business. He had some hard questions for the diminutive attorney about Sebastien Rohner and his own mouthpiece, Linda Edgemont.
The day had turned out bright and clear, with a whisper of heat on the wind coming from the stern. The mercury would be peaking in the city by the time they arrived in five or six hours. Hollis had the Francesca cruising easily at fifteen knots, her bow high enough to pierce the horizon. Running with the current for the moment. Shaw took a deep breath and sat down, trying to relax.
“Exsanguinated, huh?” he said to Hollis. “Hooking up with Doc Claybeck is improving your vocab.”
“Seeing. I’m seeing the lady.”
“Right. My mistake. Is she well?”
“Better than. She’s a fine woman.”
“Good.”
“And you? Still with Raina?” Hollis said, showing off that he remembered how to pronounce Wren’s given name properly, Rain-ya.
“Yes. When she’s in town.”
“How much does she travel?”
“It’s not so much the time.” Shaw shifted in his seat. “She sees other people. Has since the start. And she plans to keep on seeing them.”
“And you don’t like that.”
“I’m figuring it out. I like that she’s up front about what she wants. Or what she needs, maybe. I don’t have to try to decipher anything with her.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been . . . polyamorous before. Not sure I want to be, even if Wren is.”
“Sounds as confusing as your situation back at the island.”
“Yeah.” Shaw grinned. “But a lot more pleasant. Like you said, a fine woman.”
“And the redhead?”
“Karla. I just met her.”
“You don’t even have to say hello to like the look of someone. And she is a looker, if you’ll pardon my uninvited opinion.”
“She also lives in New York.”
“So? Maybe that’s a boon. Knowing where you both stand. If the girl is going home soon, why not enjoy the time while it lasts? Always been my motto.”
Shaw laughed. “You could be right about that.”
“I’ve been told I’m smarter than I look.”
“Speaking of smart.” Shaw took out the phone he’d used at the gallery. “I need a chemist.”
Hollis regarded him quizzically. “Not in the Brits’ meaning, I’m guessing. Unless you’re readying for a first night with Miss Karla.”
Shaw showed Hollis the photographs, swiping with his thumb that held the phone so his other hand could keep a loose grip on the safety rail as the Francesca steadily rose and fell. “I need somebody who can tell me what this machine is and translate the labels on these bottles. There aren’t many ingredients here. Whatever that lab was created to do, it’s something very specific. Maybe a onetime deal.”
“Then the room transforms back to a museum.” Hollis shook his head. “The rich are certainly odd.”
“Addy knows a lot of university types,” said Shaw, talking half to himself. “We’ll track down somebody with the right education. What’s in the lab might give me a clue to what’s really going on.”
“Drugs,” Hollis said. “It has to be, doesn’t it? All this secrecy and paranoia. You said Bao was a scientist. They’ve developed some super-opioid that’ll make the nation’s epidemic ten times worse.”
“It’s not meth. I could tell that much.”
“Well, nothing to do about it until we reach home. Take the helm and I’ll find us some food and libations.”
Hollis disappeared down the ladder. Shaw sat in the captain’s chair. Driving the boat on open water was mostly a matter of not hitting anything, and there was no other vessel within half a mile. Shaw nudged the wheel with his knee whenever the Francesca strayed a few degrees.
Superdrugs. Damn. That would be just the arsenic icing on the cyanide cake that was this whole week.