“It was chocolate ice cream,” David said.
“How did you know?”
“I just do. I think Stella was pretty tight with Danny Zigler, which, of course, doesn’t mean anything. She might have seen Danny, and she might not have,” David said. “But I believe Danny knows something.”
“Like what?”
“I went into his place. He was researching Key West, and had thousands of dollars in one of the books he was using. Liam, for now, let’s not let this get out to others, or to the press.”
Liam laughed. “I can’t! I’d have to admit my cousin was guilty of breaking and entering.”
“I didn’t break anything,” David assured him.
“Pete has called the D.A. about getting a warrant to get in there, but if Danny has been guilty of…something, he wants it all by the book. I’m assuming a warrant is coming soon,” Liam said. “But-you didn’t leave fingerprints anywhere, did you?”
“No. Don’t worry-I watch TV.”
“Great.”
“So how did it go with the kid? Was he able to give you anything?”
“No-I don’t believe he’s guilty of anything other than a wild crush on a wicked older woman,” Liam said. “Now that you’ve told me about Danny Zigler’s apartment and the money…what the hell do you think is going on?”
“I think that Danny is dead. He knew something. He was blackmailing someone, or someone was paying him off for his silence in some way, shape or form.”
“Then why would he be dead now?”
“I believe that he suspected or knew something before-and that he might have pieced whatever it was together-and knew who killed Stella. Liam, I know you’re a cop, a detective, and that you have to carry on an active investigation. But you only know about that because I’m guilty of a crime, so until you get that search warrant, can you keep what I’ve told you to yourself for your own investigation?”
“You’re asking me to… Ah, hell. I’ll follow whatever angles I can on that in confidence-for now.”
“Thanks. Do you know anything else? What about forensics?”
“I’m pretty sure you know what I do. She wasn’t violated-she’d had sex with condoms, don’t know how much, but there was no evidence of sexual force or violence of any kind. She had chicken nuggets and fries for dinner. Oh-this is new. We had known, of course, that the killer wore gloves and took the women by surprise. But the lab found bits of cells that might help us eventually-amara.”
“Amara? It’s a synthetic leather, used in making warm-water dive gloves,” David said.
“Right. Our killer wears dive gloves.”
“Half of Key West might own dive gloves with amara,” David said.
“True.” Liam sighed. “Look, at this point, it eliminates half of Key West, so that’s good. Oh, yeah, the gloves have silicone on the fingertips. That might narrow down the brand. Look, I’m grabbing at every straw out there, and so is the entire force.”
“Are you holding anyone?”
“We still have Sanderson, but we can only keep him until tonight. He hasn’t called an attorney, because we aren’t going to call his wife-unless we find something on him. I let the kid, Lewis Agaro, go. I don’t think he’s staying for Fantasy Fest anymore. It was his first year down here as a twenty-one-year-old. Guess he’s going to be looking back at being underaged as the good old days.”
“Maybe. All right. Keep me posted. I’ll do the same.”
“You’re keeping an eye on Katie, I take it?” Liam asked.
“Absolutely,” David said.
His cousin was silent.
“What, you disapprove?” David asked.
“She deserves more.”
“Thanks.”
“No, I mean she deserves more than someone who is just using her while trying to chase away the ghosts of his past. Sorry, you might want to belt me for that, but it’s the truth.”
David hesitated. “Did I move in on anything?” he asked.
“No, she and I are friends, good friends. She’d deserve a lot better than me, too-all I seem to do these days is work. You’re leaving, David. You know you’re leaving. So keep it honest, huh?”
“I am honest,” David assured him. He hung up, reflecting.
He was honest, wasn’t he? Or was anything about him really honest? What he felt was. The need to leave this place had been just as basic. What did he feel now? He didn’t know. He’d been a lot of places-he’d hit every continent, every ocean.
And now?
He tensed, hearing something at the door. He tightened his towel and looked around instinctively for a weapon.
As he did so, Katie came tearing down the stairs from her room-heading straight for the door. “Katie!” he warned.
He grabbed the coffeepot; he wasn’t going to be able to stop her.
She was already throwing the door open.
Sean O’Hara stood there.
It had been ten years, but Sean had changed little. He was tall, well built, redheaded, lithe and muscular. He’d made an amazing running back during their high-school days.
He had a backpack on, and two huge duffel bags sat by his feet.
“Sean!” Katie said, and threw herself in her brother’s arms.
Awkward as hell! David thought. He hadn’t ever intended to lie, he’d never meant any harm to anyone, nor did he feel any need to apologize. He and Katie were definitely adults now, and they had chosen to be together.
He just hadn’t planned on wearing a towel when he first saw Sean.
“Katie O’Hara!” Sean said, sweeping her up and spinning her around as he came into the room. He let out a fake groan. “Wait, give it a minute, I’m getting old now, and you and the backpack at the same time… Nope, nope don’t think so!”
“I’m so glad you’re home!” she told him, standing, righting herself and stepping back. “I thought you’d call me, though, and tell me you were in the state.”
“Hey, you have a cell phone, too.”
“Yeah, but it never works when I try to call you!”
“All right, well, I’m here, and-” Sean’s voice broke off sharply. He stared at David. David realized that he was still holding the coffeepot. He set it on the range and stepped forward, his arm extended.
“Sean. Good to see you.”
He didn’t think that Sean was going to accept this situation easily; he was just stunned. He shook David’s hand.
But then he stepped back. He looked from Katie to David, and back to Katie. Then David again.
“What the hell? What the hell is going on here?” he demanded. He lifted a hand. “No, no, no, wait. I don’t want gory details, I can see what the hell is going on. The question is…what the hell is the matter with you? David, hell, this is my baby sister! Katie-the man could be a murderer. Sorry, David, no real offense meant, but by statistics… You idiots!” he finished.
“Sean, your ‘baby’ sister is in her midtwenties, and capable of making choices and decisions,” David said. “And I’m not a murderer, and frankly, no offense, our sleeping arrangements aren’t any of your business.”
“The hell they’re not!” Sean exploded. He wasn’t a redhead of Irish lineage for nothing, David decided. “Katie is-my sister!”
“Sean, this is my choice,” Katie pleaded. “And David was one of your friends-a good friend, until you more or less deserted him and turned against him like everyone else.”
“Katie,” David said, grating his teeth, “thanks, but don’t defend me. Look, Sean, I care about your sister a great deal. I believe she feels the same way about me.”
Sean didn’t answer him. He turned on Katie. “I did not turn my back on David,” he protested. “I never deserted anyone.” He looked at David. “We’ve been in contact through the years, off and on. I have never turned on a friend.”
“Sean, I never suggested that you turned on me,” David said. “Look, Sean, honest to God, I mean no offense, and certainly no disrespect here. I care about your sister, a great deal.”
“And there’s a murderer loose in the city again,” Katie said quietly.
“You’re sleeping with him for protection?” Sean said.
“No!” Katie said, horrified. “No, oh, Lord, Sean, will you please…chill! Let’s get your stuff. Have some coffee-give me a minute to take a shower and get dressed. You and David talk-you haven’t actually seen each other in a decade. Talk. Don’t either of you go defending me or my honor in any way, do you understand?” she demanded.
“He’s wearing a towel!” Sean said. “And we’re not in the high-school gym anymore.”
“I have clothing,” David assured him. With dignity, he swept up his shirt and jeans-desperately glad that he had needed his phone and so taken his clothing from Katie’s room-and headed into the downstairs half bath. When he emerged, Sean had brought his bags in. They were dumped in the hall. Sean was sitting on one of the bar stools, a cup of coffee gripped in his hand.
Sean glowered at David. “So. Now a prostitute named Stella Martin has been found dead at a different museum in a similar pose. Fill me in,” Sean said.
David told him what he could. There wasn’t much.
“Danny Zigler?” Sean said. “He’s weird enough-but he’s a runt. And not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“Danny didn’t do it,” David said.
“And you know that because?”
“I don’t think that Danny had the strength to kill with his bare hands.”
“Even if he suffocated his victims first?”
“Suffocating, you still fight. I think the killer had to be big.”
“Our size,” Sean said dryly.
“Yeah. Our size.”
