Chapter 37

The Massachusetts State Police laid siege to Nahant. They scoured the island for clues—for it really was an island now, cut off from the mainland with a roadblock that allowed only emergency vehicles.

Citizens complained that a police state had been created, and those who complained most were sudden targets of harsh interrogations and veiled threats. The rest of the tiny town got the message. Nahant had left the United States of America, as if the island had broken loose and floated into the North Atlantic.

Conley and Stefanos stood on a small dock with a view of Ocean Park. They’d found hemp fibers, tiny strands lodged under the base of a cleat. “Did you hear anything that night?” Stefanos said to the dock owner.

“I thought I heard a girl’s voice, but the voice spoke gibberish. Maybe it was a raccoon. Lots of them around town this year.”

“What did she say?” Stefanos asked.

“I told you, it was gibberish.”

“Tell me the gibberish. Repeat the sound.”

“I can’t remember gibberish.”

Conley rose from the dock. “Do you own a boat?”

“Yes.”

Conley pointed to the fibers on the cleat. “You the type of guy who’d use rope on a cleat?”

“No. My lines are nylon.”

Stefanos bent and looked at the strands.

“Notify the lab,” he said to a patrolman.

They stood and looked toward Ocean Park. Smokestacks billowed near the Ocean Parkway, and long black clouds streamed toward downtown. Sun reflected off moving cars, sparkling like a giant necklace lain on the ground.

“She’s not here,” Conley said. “She’s not here.”

****

No place was safe from police in Ocean Park. No place. On day five of Channary’s disappearance, they invaded the city. Residents complained they were more dangerous than criminals—better-manned, better-armed, and righteous. Citizen’s rights were trampled along with their backyards, homes, and vehicles.

Stefanos commandeered the meeting room at Ocean Park Police headquarters and made it known everyone worked for him—local patrolmen, county sheriffs, even firemen, like it or not. The Chief of Police didn’t complain. The invasion of cops had made Ocean Park the safest city in the world.

Murphy’s Tap was overrun with police seeking clues. William O’Neil was nowhere to be found, and Sage could only stand by and watch as most of Teddy’s customers were taken away for outstanding warrants, illegal possession of firearms or drugs, and even, in one case, failure to obey a police officer in a timely manner. Mazzarelli thought that one up.

Spring arrived, an unimportant marker. The important measure was that weeks had passed since that last night in the safe house, and they’d collected no leads to Channary’s whereabouts…or to the murderer of Lloyd Kendricks.