[18]
Quinn finished his lobster and leaned back in the chair, still thinking about Danvers’s bombshell. “Another body,” he said.
“Yes, I know.”
His eyes traveled the restaurant, taking note of the faces of the patrons. He was antsy, itchy. Maddy’s restlessness indicated she felt the same. “Do you want to go back to the island?” he asked. “Be a part of the investigation? After all, we’re part of the task force—or we would be if we weren’t staying under the radar.”
She rolled her eyes. “We are so not under the radar. We might as well have flown in here with ‘searching for a serial killer’ stamped on the side of the plane for all the subtle we’ve been.” She took a sip of her water and waved a hand. “Let’s just wait to hear back from the sheriff about who the body is. As for the task force, I think taking a sabbatical was the wise thing to do.”
“He said the body was buried well. One of the cadaver dogs found it.”
“If he had the dogs out there, he was looking for more bodies.”
“Yes. And he found one.”
She absently scanned the pictures over the bar, and a familiar face below them caught her attention. “Is that Burt?”
“Who?”
“The ferry pilot.” She nodded toward the bar. “The guy near the end of the bar.”
Quinn turned to look. “Yeah, I think so.” The man’s eyes collided with his. Burt’s gray head bobbed and he hesitated, then said something to the young man next to him. The younger man shrugged and turned back to nurse his drink. Burt glanced at the door, then stood and walked over.
He switched his beer bottle to his left hand so he could shake Quinn’s hand with his right. “Surprised to see you folks back here. Figured you’d be home recovering from your terrible ordeal. How are you doing after all that?”
Quinn grimaced at the smell of alcohol on the man’s breath, but didn’t say anything. His blue eyes seemed clear enough.
“We’re hanging in there,” Maddy said. “Thanks.”
“How’d you find this little hole in the wall? Not many visitors know about it.”
“Sheriff Danvers recommended it,” Quinn said.
“Oh yeah, it’s a favorite of his, for sure. We eat out here three or four times a week.” He aimed his bottle toward the back. “Bernard owns the place and the sheriff is real good about sending new business his way.”
“I’m sure new business turns into repeat customers. My meal was outstanding,” Quinn said.
“You know it.” He glanced at the gold watch on his tanned arm. “So, you folks here to help find out who kidnapped you?”
Maddy drew in a breath and Quinn’s shoulders tensed. “Something like that, but we’d appreciate it if you’d keep that quiet. We don’t need the press getting wind of it.”
“Sure, sure. If there’s a crime on one of the islands, I’m usually the one who carts the medical examiner out there. She don’t fly, you know.”
“I seem to remember hearing that,” Maddy said.
Burt shrugged. “I can keep my mouth shut. Better for business that way. Sheriff appreciates it too.”
“Thanks, Burt.”
“You bet. Well, I got to go. I got a ferry to pick up.”
Quinn lifted a brow. “Hope you’re going to sober up first.”
Burt laughed. “I’m not drunk. This is the only one I’ve had. I’m fine. Hey, you ever need a ride to any of the islands, give me a call.” He pulled a tattered card from his pocket and handed it to Maddy.
“Thanks,” she said. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
“Glad to see you folks are doing well.” He shot Quinn a thin smile. “Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you?”
Quinn leaned back. “Yes. Want to help me out?”
“I think I’ll let you stew on it.” He waved to someone behind the counter, then headed out the door. The young man he’d been with followed him, with a long sideways look at Quinn and Maddy.
“Interesting character,” Quinn said as he watched the two go.
“How old do you think he is?” Maddy asked. “The older guy, I mean.”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. Could be anywhere between forty and sixty.” He pursed his lips. “He knows me from somewhere. And I have to admit, he looks familiar.”
“But you don’t know him.”
“Apparently I’m supposed to, but . . .”
“Quit thinking about it. It’ll come to you.”
“Hmm. Maybe . . .” He let his gaze linger on the door until it was firmly shut. “I wonder who the younger fellow was.”
She shrugged and picked up her glass. “So . . . ,” she said.
“Who do you think the body could be?”
“It could be anyone. There’s no sense in speculating.”
“Maybe the killer’s partner who suddenly got a conscience?”
“Maddy . . .”
She waved a hand. “I know. I shouldn’t do that to myself, but I really want to know.”
“Why?”
“Because if there’s another body, that means there’s another number. And if that’s the case, our entire theory about the numbers matching up with the bodies is completely wrong.”
He grimaced. “Good point. Maybe.” He took a sip of his drink and waited until the waitress cleared the plates from the table before he leaned forward. “I don’t think we’re wrong.”
“I don’t either, but I can’t think who else he could have killed.”
“Maybe he didn’t.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“Maybe that body doesn’t have a thing to do with the guy who killed the others. Maybe he didn’t even know it was buried there.”
She massaged her temples, then looked him in the eye. “You’re right.”
“What?”
“There’s no sense in wasting brain power on this when we have nothing to go on. We need to wait for Sheriff Danvers to get an ID on the body and take it from there.”
“Exactly. You want dessert?”
She groaned. “No, I’m stuffed. Thanks.” She reached for her purse.
“I’ve got it.”
“I can pay for mine. Katie even loaded me down with cash so we don’t leave a credit card trail.” She took a sip of water.
“I’ve got dinner. You can buy me breakfast.”
She nearly choked on her water. “Breakfast is free at the hotel, you goon.”
He shot her a smile and laid four twenties on the table. “Well, let’s continue this as we walk over to talk to Brad Gorman. I’m ready to see what he has to say.”
She nodded.
“Then we can go swimming.”
“Swimming?”
He nodded “In the hotel pool.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
She scowled. “Last time you recommended a swim, I nearly fell into a spear pit and you pulled my shoulder out of the socket.” She absently brought a hand up to massage the sore area.
“Hey,” he protested. “I fixed your shoulder.”
She glared at him, but he could see the mirth underneath the fierce look. “You cheated. You told me to count to three.”
He shook his head and slid out of the booth. “I’m not going to hear the end of that, am I?”
“Nope.”
As they walked from the restaurant to the building that sported the sign KEY WEST TRANSPORT AND FERRY SERVICE, Maddy relished the closeness she felt with Quinn. She savored it, completely let herself enjoy it, because she just had a feeling it was fleeting.
She also appreciated the fact that she could verbally spar with him. It helped put everything in perspective. If anyone else dared to joke about what had happened to them on the island, she’d probably punch them. But with Quinn, she could do that. Strangely enough, it actually helped lessen the terror. Slightly.
They stepped into the building and Maddy glanced around. Fishing tackle, Key West souvenirs, a picture-covered wall, snacks, and a drink machine were the highlights. Simple and efficient.
“Help you folks?”
Quinn walked to the counter. “I’m Quinn Holcombe. This is Maddy McKay. We were told we could find Brad Gorman here.”
“Yeah. I’m Nathan, we spoke on the phone.”
Quinn held out a hand and Nathan hesitated, then shook it. Maddy smiled and nodded.
“Brad should be back anytime,” Nathan said. “He’s been ferrying back and forth out to Hoskins Island for a birthday party. I think he’s on his last leg back now.”
“Thanks.”
Nathan gestured toward the chairs lining the wall. Seats for guests waiting on a boat, Maddy supposed. At the moment, they were empty. “Feel free to wait,” he said. “I’ll let Brad know you’re here.” He disappeared into the back.
Maddy walked over to the wall covered in pictures. “Hey, Quinn, come here.”
“What is it?” He stepped up behind her and she could feel his body heat warming her back.
She cleared her throat. “See anyone that looks familiar?”
“That’s Ashley Gorman,” he said.
“In every single picture with a lot of different men.” Nothing too suggestive, but some of the pictures could be questionable. “So, if that was your wife in those pictures, would you be real happy with her?”
Quinn stepped closer and gave a grunt. “No, I’d be having a little chat with her, that’s for sure.” He continued his surveillance of the wall. “It’s a tribute to her, a memorial.”
“Brad and Nathan are there, as well as Leonard Nance. I would expect to see Brad, but that’s Nathan driving the boat, with Ashley in the passenger seat there.”
“So at some point in the past, Brad worked for Leonard too. Look.” She pointed to the picture that displayed the front of the building. “I can’t read the sign on it, but it’s not this place. All of these pictures are taken at a different marina.”
“Sarasota,” Quinn said. “That’s where they lived before Ashley died. Her father, Leonard Nance, owned the marina, and Ashley worked there during her summers and then again during her college years when she was home.” He paced in front of the wall, his brow furrowed. “So, Brad and Nathan knew each other before moving to Key West.” He pointed to a heavyset young man. “See that guy there? That’s Ashley’s brother, Jacob Nance. I remember him from the trial.” He rubbed his chin. “They were in business together in Sarasota. So when Ashley was killed, chances are good that they all simply packed up and moved here.”
“But why?”
“Probably the media. Maybe the memories were just too much.”
“So where’s Leonard these days?”
“Good question. Bree said it was taking longer to find information on the Nances because of the name change.”
She continued to study the pictures. “Looks awesome, doesn’t it? I mean, I would imagine that would be a paradise on earth for a teen. Living on the boats and water all summer.”
“Looks like the adults didn’t mind it so much either. Brad must still enjoy it.”
“Well, who wouldn’t? I’m ready to sign up as a volunteer. But why would Burt let Brad put up this memorial to Ashley?”
“Next time we see him, let’s ask.” Quinn continued to stare at the pictures, then let out a low sigh. “Looks like an ideal life, doesn’t it?”
“The perfect one, from all appearances.” Maddy said. “And then Ashley went off to school in South Carolina,” she murmured.
“Went off to school and didn’t come home,” a voice said from behind them.
Maddy turned to see a young man in his early thirties. He wore a muscle shirt that emphasized his strong arms and an almost perfect physique. She winced. And she thought she was in good shape. “Brad?”
“Yeah.” He wiped his hands on a rag and laid it on the counter. He had a duffle bag over his left shoulder and he let it slide to the floor with a thud. “What do you people want?”
“I’m Maddy McKay and this is Quinn Holcombe.”
“I know who you are. Saw the story on the news. I’m surprised you’d come back here after the awful experience you had on the island.”
“We had some unfinished business to take care of,” Quinn said.
Brad motioned them toward the chairs. “Unfinished business like arresting guilty people, then letting them go?” He dropped into the nearest one, and when his eyes locked on her and Quinn, Maddy shuddered at the hate in them. Then he blinked and it was gone.
“Just an FYI,” Quinn said, “I didn’t let him go. At least not without orders from the higher-ups.”
“You arrested him too soon, didn’t have the evidence you needed to keep him. That’s sloppy police work, Detective.”
Quinn sighed and Maddy felt sorry for him. There was always more to the story than the victim’s loved one knew, but it didn’t stop them from feeling justified in casting blame. “Look,” Quinn said, “I did my job, but I’m not here to debate that. Someone tried to kill us. Was it you?”
Maddy blinked at the direct question. Quinn had obviously opted for the blunt approach.
Brad let out a sharp laugh. “What? Are you serious? You think I was the one who kidnapped you and took you out to the island?” He shook his head. “Why would I do that?”
“Revenge. After all, I let a guilty killer go and his last victim was your wife.”
Brad nodded, then looked at the wall. “No, it wasn’t me, but if I ever meet the guy who did, I’ll want to shake his hand.” He sneered, then shook his head. “I’ve already answered all the questions the FBI and Sheriff Danvers threw at me. And I’ll answer yours if you want, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Quinn gave a slow nod. “What are you doing working here? Thought you were some kind of video game programmer working with Ashley’s brother.”
Brad shrugged. “I do both. I like the water and I like boats. This lets me be around both. And Burt needs my help when there’s a particularly busy week or something. So it works out.”
Maddy looked at the wall of pictures. “Ashley liked it too.”
“Yes.”
“Looks like she liked a lot of things,” Quinn said.
Brad narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
“Was she cheating on you?”
Brad stood, the burning hate back in his eyes. Maddy slid her hand over her weapon in a subtle move. “No, she wasn’t cheating on me. We’re done here.” He walked away without another word or a backward glance.
She let her hand fall away. “Smooth, Quinn, real smooth.”
“Come on, Maddy, you know as well as I do that taking the blunt approach sometimes makes people angry enough to say things they later regret . . . but we find very helpful.”
“I know. I’m just not sure it was the right approach with him.”
Quinn shrugged. “It gave me some information.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to go with my gut and say he’s not behind all this. Then again, I could be wrong.”
“Well, if you’re wrong, I am too. I got the same feeling.”
“Our killer is smart. He’s used to playing things close to the vest. Brad didn’t make any effort to hide his hatred. He’s not a subtle guy. I guess I don’t see him as the killer.”
“Unless he’s just playing us. He’s sure got enough anger to power him through.” She paused. “And he’s sure got the muscles for it.”
He looked down at her and frowned. “What?”
“Just saying he looks strong enough to cart you over his shoulder once you were knocked unconscious, without any help at all.”
Quinn’s frown deepened. “You think?”
“Yeah. I think.”
He lifted an arm. “I’ve got muscles. I’ve never caught you noticing my muscles.”
Maddy gave a low laugh. “Trust me, Quinn, I’ve noticed.” And she had.
“Really?” He straightened and puffed his chest out a bit. A giggle slipped from her. She just couldn’t help it. He looked so pleased. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Swimming at the hotel.”
“What, now? Why?”
“So I can show off my muscles.”
Maddy laughed. Truly laughed for the first time in a very long time.
She was still smiling ten minutes later when Quinn pulled into the hotel parking lot. They walked into the hotel together and came to a stop when they spotted Sheriff Danvers sitting in the lobby.
Maddy’s smile slid into a frown. “Hello, Sheriff, is something wrong?”
“No, just have some more information I thought I’d share with you.”
She and Quinn exchanged a glance. “About the other body you found?” Quinn asked.
“No.” The sheriff waved a hand. “They’re still working on him. It’ll be a while until we know anything about that one. And I say ‘him’ but don’t know that for a fact. Could be a woman, for all I know.”
“Let’s go up to my room and you can fill us in,” Quinn said.
The sheriff snagged an apple from the check-in desk and motioned toward the elevator.
Once in Quinn’s room, they sat around the table and the sheriff pulled out his iPad. He swiped the screen. “That hair that was found at the house. It was long and gray.”
Maddy straightened. “Burt has long gray hair. Could he have something to do with this?”
Danvers laughed. “Who? Burt? No way. At least he wouldn’t have been my first pick.” He frowned. “I mean, I’ll have the lab check it against his, but he’s not the only long-haired gray dude around town. We’ve got plenty. Especially some of the homeless.”
“No homeless person put this together. The person who’s behind all this has resources and money at his disposal.” Quinn frowned and Maddy knew her expression matched his. “So, what does that hair tell us?”
Danvers sighed. “Nothing really, but it was a development, so thought I’d share it. We’re still interviewing people on the other islands about what they might have seen, but so far they haven’t been terribly helpful.”
Maddy groaned. “Great.”
He raised a finger. “However, there is something that caught my attention.”
“What’s that?” Quinn said.
“When I questioned one of the residents of the island nearest to Hogan’s, she said she saw Burt on his boat heading for the island. Said she saw him pull into the boathouse, but that was it.”
“And she didn’t find that odd for Burt to be pulling his boat into a boathouse of an unoccupied island?” Maddy asked.
“No, she said she figured he was just doing an errand for someone, but the only reason she noticed him is because he buzzed right by her dock. She waved and he waved back.” He shrugged. “The neighbors—if you can call them that, spread out like they are—know that this island is in probate and that the Hogan family hired someone to take care of it. Seeing activity over there wouldn’t set off any real alarms.”
“Okay,” Maddy said, “then you need to ask Burt about why he was over here just a couple of weeks ago when I think I remember him saying he hadn’t been on the island for at least a couple of years.”
“I’ve got that on my to-do list, trust me.”
“We just saw him tonight, you know,” Maddy murmured.
“At the restaurant?”
“Yes.”
The sheriff nodded. “He’s a regular. He’s in there just about every day since it’s right there next to his business.”
“Seems like a harmless fellow,” Quinn said, “but then some of the most dangerous men on earth come across that way. I’ve arrested some of them.”
“I know what you mean,” the sheriff said. He tapped a text and then set his phone aside. “I’ve got a deputy tracking Burt down now. We’ll bring him in and see what he’s got to say for himself.” The sheriff stood. “In the meantime, I know you’re trying to lay low. Unfortunately, Burt knows you’re here now.” He sighed. “He wasn’t on my radar when I sent you out to the Flying Fish Restaurant.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Truthfully, I can’t imagine Burt having anything to do with any of this serial killer business. He’s had a rough time of it, sure, drinks a little now and then, but I’ve known him about six years and he’s been nothing but helpful, knows how to keep his mouth shut, and dotes on his wife and son.” He shrugged. “But you need to watch your backs now that he’s aware of your presence here. We don’t need to take any chances.”
“Well, Brad Gorman and the other worker, Nathan Truett, know we’re here too, so we’re not exactly off the grid anymore anyway. We had a little chat with Brad.”
The sheriff paused. “Did you get anything more out of him?”
“Just that he hates me,” Quinn murmured. “He definitely blames me for his wife’s death.”
“Yeah. He does. He’s never hidden that. Her entire family blames you, actually.”
“Right,” Quinn said softly.
“Don’t let it get you down. It’s not your fault and you know it. Sometimes it’s just the way the system works—or doesn’t. I’ll let you know what comes back on the hair.”
“Thanks.” Quinn paused. “Hey, who is Burt anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“He just looks so familiar and I can’t place him. When I asked him about it, he said he’d let me stew on it. And then we saw all these picture with Leonard, Nathan, and Brad that were from Sarasota. Just seems odd they all moved here, and Brad and Nathan work at a marina business that Burt owns. What’s the connection there? Can you shed any light?”
The sheriff blinked. “I thought you knew and that’s why you’re so interested in investigating him.”
“Knew what?”
Danvers leaned back, looking slightly stunned. “You really don’t know.”
“Know what?” Maddy almost yelled.
“He and his family used to live in Sarasota, but a little over six years ago, they legally changed their names and moved down here to Key West—”
“What’s his full name?” Quinn’s eyes shot daggers.
“Burt Tabor is Leonard Nance.”
Maddy drew in a shocked breath. “Robert Tabor! Ashley Gorman’s father?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. It never occurred to me that you didn’t know who he was.”
“How were we to know?” Quinn asked. “He changed his name, his appearance, everything.”
“Like I said, I’m sorry I made that assumption.” The sheriff shook his head. “The media wouldn’t leave them alone. If you ask the people in Sarasota what happened to them, they just shake their heads and whisper about the Witness Protection program. Truth is, they just wanted to get away from the memories that haunted them. So, they—and their son’s best friend, Nathan, who didn’t change his name—moved down here, opened up the transport business, and have lived quiet, unassuming lives—for the most part.” He sighed. “Burt spilled the story one night when I found him passed out behind the Flying Fish.” He looked at Quinn, then Maddy. “Now you know.”
“Yes, now we know,” Maddy said. “Don’t assume anything else, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sheriff Danvers left after his shocking revelation, and Maddy let her shoulders slump. “Wow.”
“No kidding.” He paced from one end of the room to the other. “None of this is a coincidence. I feel like a puppet in a performance.”
“I agree. Someone’s setting everything up quite nicely.” She walked to his refrigerator and snagged a bottle of water. After sipping on it in silence for a moment, she capped it. “Okay, I know what the sheriff thinks about Robert, but I doubt he’s exactly objective. You think he had something to do with kidnapping us and killing eight, possibly nine, people?”
Quinn frowned. “If you’d asked me that thirty minutes ago, I would have said that I have no idea and I’m not speculating.”
“Yeah, I seem to remember you don’t like speculation.”
“Who’d you hear that from?”
“Katie, I think. Or maybe it was Daniel.”
He shot her a smirk, then sobered. “But now . . .”
“Yeah, knowing he’s Ashley’s father puts a whole new light on things, doesn’t it?”
His phone rang and he glanced at it. His brows rose. “My mom. My mother never calls me and then all of a sudden she’s started calling like once a week.” It rang again and he looked at her. “Why would she be calling?”
“Um . . . maybe if you answer, you’ll find out.”
“What if it’s bad news?”
She sighed and stabbed the screen with her index finger. “Ask her.”
Quinn shot her a panicked look, then swallowed and held the device to his ear. “Hi, Mom.”
Maddy was almost ashamed of herself, but Quinn really needed to work on things with his family. Just like you do?
She winced. Yes, just like she did. She and Quinn both had family issues they needed to resolve, and she had no business judging him—or forcing him to act to resolve his issues when she wasn’t willing to do the same.
She grimaced. She owed him an apology.
Until then, she had some investigating to do. She headed for the connecting door that led to her room.
“Uh, where do you think you’re going?”
She turned to find him still seated at the small table. He was off the phone and looking at her with eyes she couldn’t read. “That was a quick conversation,” she said. “How is she?”
“She’s fine.”
“Was it bad news?”
“No. She just wanted an update on the school situation. Since I have no new information, there wasn’t a whole lot I could tell her.”
“Was she calling for that or because she wanted to . . . put out feelers?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She sighed. “Quinn, you’re so aloof with your family—with everyone, really. But when one of your family reaches out to you, you should welcome it with open arms.”
He sighed and pressed his fingers to his eyes. “I know.”
“So why do you shut them down as fast as you can?”
“Because there are . . . circumstances, things that have happened that you don’t know about.”
“Oh. Things that have to do with your sister’s death?”
His head snapped up. “You’ve been snooping?”
“What?” She crossed her arms and stared at him. “No! Really?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Have you forgotten what I used to do for a living? I’m pretty good at reading between the lines and figuring things out.” She paused. “When it comes to other people and their problems, anyway. You already told me she committed suicide.”
His shoulders slumped. “Sorry.”
“Come on, Quinn. You know what happened with me and my family. I keep my distance from my parents and some of my cop brothers and sisters, but at least we talk. My mom believes in me. She knows I’d never do what I’ve been accused of doing, but with my dad . . . it’s hard.” She walked over to slump on the couch again. “This latest almost-dying thing has had my brain spinning in more ways than one.”
“Like what?”
“Like I want peace. With my family, my father, the FBI, everyone I worked with. I’m tired of walking under the cloud that seems to follow me everywhere.”
“You want to clear your name.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“Then let’s do it. Who do you have working on the inside for you?”
“Quinn, I’m not talking about me right now. We were talking about you. Don’t try to change the subject. Even when you were in the hospital for so long after your legs were hurt, your family came to see you. You pushed them out the door as fast as you could. What I’m getting at is, don’t you want peace with your family?”
He continued that weird stare. Then he blinked. “Yes, of course. I just don’t know that it’s possible to achieve that.”
She bit her lip, then closed her eyes for a moment. Finally, she opened them and walked over to him to place a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know either. I’m sorry for forcing you to talk to your mother. That was an impulse move on my part and it was wrong. But as for me, I sure want to try to get things resolved with my family—and if you do too, that means we’re going to have to reach out. Both of us.”
He looked down at his clasped hands and was silent. She’d give her right arm to know what he was thinking. He finally looked up. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if they can ever forgive me,” he whispered.
She knelt in front of him. “Why? Forgive you for what?”
“For being the reason Stacy killed herself.”