Murder Hooks a Mermaid (4 page)

Taking my cue from her look, I closed up the pizza box and stuck it in the refrigerator. We could heat it up later. I set the wineglasses on the back of the counter and covered each one with a piece of plastic wrap, although I wasn’t optimistic about our chances of getting back in time to drink them.

Riley hadn’t moved. It was scary, seeing the vulnerability in someone who never let anything rattle him.

Riley looked up at me, doubt clouding his weathered face. “What if I can’t get
Ocean Breeze
back in time?” he asked. “The season opens in a few days. Without a boat…” He left the rest of the thought unspoken, as though he couldn’t bear to say it out loud.

I knew the rest of it anyway. Without a boat, there was no season for Riley and his hands. He’d lose his crew as they scrambled to find berths on other boats, berths he’d have to compete with them for if he wanted to pay his own rent.

“We’ll get her back,” I said with more conviction than I felt. “You’ve got Karen on your side. When has she ever let you down?”

“She divorced me,” he replied with a shrug.

I shook my head. “Don’t go there. From where I sit, there was enough blame to go around. And maybe you couldn’t live together, but she’s been on your side as long as I’ve known her.” I paused, trying to lighten the mood. “And that’s a lot longer than I care to admit.”

Riley’s mouth twitched in the imitation of a grin, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

“Ready?” Karen called as she came back down the hall. Wearing worn jeans, an oatmeal-colored waffle-weave pullover, and sneakers, she stuffed her wallet into her back pocket and dangled her keys from her finger.

“You riding with me?” she asked Riley, “or taking your own truck?”

“I can drive.”

Karen nodded and turned to me. “Coming?”

Like she even had to ask. We’d all been best friends since junior high. I was as much a part of this rescue mission as she was.

Karen locked the door behind us, and Riley headed across the scrubby lawn toward his pickup.

“Meet you at the police station,” he called over his shoulder as he heaved himself up into the cab.

Chapter 4

KAREN DROVE SILENTLY, HER LIPS DRAWN INTO A
tight line. On the console between us, the police scanner crackled with static, but no radio conversation broke the silence.

A strong sense of déjà vu filled me. How many nights when she was with Riley had I ridden with her on rescue missions? Back then most of them had involved fender benders, unpaid parking tickets, or a conveniently forgotten wallet, not handcuffs and impounded boats.

But the feeling was the same.

By the time Karen slipped her SUV into a parking space at the police station, I could see Riley running through the front door. Considering Karen’s driving, he must have broken several speed limits to beat us there.

Inside, we located Riley by following the sound of raised voices down the corridor. He stood at a low counter, leaning over and talking loudly to the duty officer.

“I told you,” he said, “you have my brother back there, and I want to know what’s going on!”

“Have a seat, Mr. Freed,” the officer said, forced patience clear in his tone. “Chief Hardy will speak to you as soon as he has time. But for now you will just have to take a seat and relax.”

His voice hardened with authority on the last sentence. Clearly, Riley would be wise to follow his instructions.

Wisdom wasn’t part of Riley’s plan. He opened his mouth to protest, but Karen beat him to it. “Thank you, officer,” she said, grabbing Riley’s elbow and dragging him away from the counter before he could react.

Taking advantage of Riley’s surprise, Karen pulled him to one side and pushed him down into one of the colorless molded plastic chairs against the wall. “Sit down,” she hissed.

“And shut up!” she added when he opened his mouth.

Riley stared at her, his mouth hanging open with no sound coming out. It was the second time tonight I’d seen Karen take charge of Riley. Riley was usually the take-charge guy—a trait he and Karen had in common, and one I suspected was at the heart of many of their troubles. Letting Karen push him around was a measure of just how distressed he felt.

Karen dropped into the chair on his right and signaled me into the chair on the left. She took Riley’s chin in her hand, pushing his mouth shut and turning his face to hers.

“Whatever Bobby did this time is serious, Riley. Do you know anything about what happened?”

Riley shook his head. He’d bounded from manic to silent and back several times already, and he was dropping into silence again.

Karen shook his shoulders. “Tell me what you know. I need to know everything if I’m going to help you. And Bobby.”

Riley winced at the mention of his brother’s name. Apparently he knew something, something he didn’t want to know.

“Bobby needed the boat for a dive charter. I told you that, right?”

Karen nodded, tight-lipped. I remembered her angry response when Riley told her he couldn’t get her any fish. Oh yeah, he’d told her.

“Well, he called me and said the guys wanted to go out into the Gulf, and they were leaving before dawn today.” He shrugged. “It was supposed to be a half-day trip, so I figured I might be able to do some fishing this afternoon after they got back.”

A wry smile twisted his lips for a split second. “Figured if I could get you some fish, you might get over being pissed at me a little quicker.”

That surprised Karen, and she had the good grace to look sheepish. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“No,” Riley said. “You were right. I put Bobby’s problem ahead of a promise I made. You had a right to be mad.”

The conversation felt a little too personal for an audience, and I started to stand up. One glare from Karen changed my mind.

I sat back down.

“Anyway,” Riley went on, “I went down to the dock about one, thinking Bobby should be back pretty quick, and he was already there. He had
Ocean Breeze
tied up to the dock, and he was helping carry the divers’ gear back to the rental car.”

Karen nodded impatiently.

“I waited until they had everything stowed, and the divers were ready to leave.” He looked away, as though ashamed of what he were saying. “I didn’t want Bobby’s guys to know he didn’t own the boat.”

I saw Karen literally bite her lip to keep from pointing out the absurdity of letting Bobby masquerade as the owner of
Ocean Breeze.
Bobby couldn’t be responsible for a used bicycle, much less a boat, but Karen kept her comments to herself.

“Next thing I know, there are uniforms all over the place. Boomer Hardy grabs Bobby and stuffs him in a squad car, Coasties are all over the boat, and there’s a bunch of guys with crew cuts putting cuffs on the divers.”

“Who were they?”

“The divers?” Riley shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“No, not the divers.” There was an edge in Karen’s voice. “The crew cuts. Any idea who they were?”

“State bulls, or Feds of some sort, would be my guess,” Riley said. “But I didn’t exactly go over and introduce myself. Didn’t seem like a bright idea.”

“But if they took the other guys, why didn’t they take Bobby?” I asked. It seemed like the logical next question.

Riley turned and looked at me, as though he’d forgotten I were there, which he probably had. “I don’t know, truth be told. Seemed like maybe they wanted to, but Boomer sent the car back here right off. It wasn’t till later that the crew cuts started asking about Bobby.”

“And by then he was already in Boomer’s jail,” Karen said slowly. It was no secret that the local police, and especially Chief Barclay “Boomer” Hardy, had a bad attitude toward outside authorities.

The way I heard it, several years back the Feds ran a drug sting operation without bringing in the local authorities. Later they would claim they didn’t know who they could trust, but relations had been real chilly since. Boomer was just as likely to keep Bobby in his jurisdiction as long as he could.

“Yep,” Riley answered. “Boomer told them real nice-like that they could come down and get Bobby when they had an arrest warrant, and Boomer would hold him for them in the meantime.”

“So it’s only a matter of time before they show up,” Karen said.

Riley nodded.

It was actually a matter of several hours, hours that we spent sitting in the uncomfortable, cold plastic chairs, drinking vending-machine coffee and trying unsuccessfully to carry on a conversation.

We also tried to talk to Boomer. The duty officer reminded us, forcefully, that he was too busy.

But it never occurred to any of us to leave. Bobby was family.

It was nearly midnight when a couple of guys in crew cuts paraded three stone-faced men in cuffs through the front door.

The crew cuts paused at the counter, and I strained to hear the conversation. After they were waved through, I turned to Riley.

“Are those the guys?”

He nodded. “Did you hear what they said?” he asked.

“Sounded to me like they’re going to keep the divers here,” I said. “That what you heard?”

“It is,” Karen said. She smiled one of those cat-with-a-canary
smiles, and I realized her digital recorder was in her hand. She never went anywhere without it. She glanced at the recorder, then back at me, and stuck it back in her shoulder bag. “I’ll check it later, but I think the officer said something about their accommodations being ready.” She tilted her head to one side, as though listening to the conversation replay in her head. “He didn’t sound too happy about it, either.”

Riley stood up and took a step toward the counter. “Maybe now they’ll tell me something about Bobby,” he said.

“Damn you!”

Bobby’s shout carried to the front of the station, stopping Riley in his tracks. His hands curled into fists, and his broad shoulders knotted with anger at the sound of his brother’s voice. Karen and I jumped up, and the three of us took another step toward the counter.

“What did you do?” Bobby shouted again.

Riley made a move toward the counter and the disturbance beyond, but Karen and I each grabbed an arm and held him back. Whatever was going on, this was the wrong time and place to try to interfere.

Riley struggled, and I tightened my grip. If we let him go, there would be two Freed brothers in Boomer’s jail, along with the divers who’d hired their boat.

A real recipe for disaster.

As though we didn’t already have a disaster on our hands. Out of our sight, Bobby continued his tirade.

“You son of a bitch!” he yelled. “This is all your fault! I swear I’ll kill you for this!”

Chapter 5

SILENCE FILLED THE STATION FOR THE SPACE OF A
heartbeat, immediately replaced by sounds of a scuffle. Chairs scraped across the floor, and running feet pounded down the hallway.

At the desk, the duty officer hesitated, glancing toward the fracas, then back at us. He stayed at his post, though it was clear he wanted to investigate the commotion.

We stood in the middle of the reception area, unwilling to return to our seats.

After several seconds, Boomer’s voice carried over the jumble of noise. He didn’t raise his voice so much as simply project a tone of command.

“Now just settle down, all y’all.”

The noise paused, and Boomer continued. “Bobby Freed, you put your skinny ol’ behind in that chair and stay
there. You two, take your prisoners on back. We have three of our best cells ready for them.”

Faint sounds of shuffling feet and muttered conversation carried to our ears, but there were no more shouts or threats.

I could imagine Bobby sitting on a hard chair, his head hanging down, much as his brother’s had earlier. But Bobby’s hangdog expression would be far different from Riley’s. Riley was scared, sure, but he was still ready to fight. Bobby, in spite of his threats, would be terrified and looking to be rescued.

Just like always.

Karen and I managed to drag Riley back to our spot along the wall, though none of us sat down. Instead, we stood in front of the chairs, debating in whispers what to do about this latest development.

Riley was ready to storm the desk and demand to know what was happening to his brother, and it took all of Karen’s persuasive powers to hold him back. I kept a tight grip on his arm, in case Karen lost the argument.

Fortunately for us, Boomer appeared at the desk in a few minutes.

The three of us approached the desk together, Riley dragging Karen and me along with him. Boomer waited for us, a resigned expression on his face.

“We gotta hold him, Riley,” Boomer said before anyone else could speak.

“They nabbed the other three, and it was all I could do to hold on to Bobby. Now they have us holding their suspects—say they don’t have a facility available,” he went on, his tone implying that he didn’t believe them.

“Can’t we get him out on bail?” Riley asked.

Boomer shook his head. “No way we can get him in front of a judge before tomorrow afternoon at the soonest. Especially not after he made threats against those guys.”

Riley winced. “You know that don’t mean a thing, Boo—Chief Hardy. Bobby wouldn’t hurt anybody, not really.”

“What I know doesn’t matter, Riley. They want him held on a smuggling charge, they have a valid warrant, and that’s that.

“What I can do is let you talk to him and get him calmed down. Five minutes. That’s it, and it’s a gift, because I told the Feds you’d get him settled down.

“Beyond that, I’d advise you to find a lawyer. He’s going to need a good one.”

As Riley followed Boomer down the hall, Karen and I exchanged a glance. There was no question of leaving until Riley returned with a report on Bobby.

True to his word, Boomer escorted Riley back into the reception area in five minutes. The two men shook hands, a sign of the respect the police chief had for our friend.

None of us said anything until we were outside the station and standing next to Riley’s pickup.

“I don’t really understand the charges,” Riley said with a shake of his head. “Something about the divers trying to rendezvous with smugglers.”