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Please let that be legit and not metaphorical. “When was the last time you saw her?”
He scrunched his nose. “Man, five, six months maybe?”
“We heard you came to her place of employment, caused problems and were asked to leave. What was that about?”
Skipper removed his hat, swiping a thick swatch of hair back, then returned it to his head. “Amy-Rose was a wildcat. Loved everything forbidden. I didn’t go in there causing trouble. We’d gotten into an argument because my boat had been taken out the night before. Gas was low and I found an empty hard ale bottle. I knew it was hers. I clean my boat every night to prep for fishing tours, and the ale was her brand with her ruby-red lipstick on the mouth of the bottle. I confronted her, and she didn’t want to admit she’d lifted my keys and taken her girls out joyriding. She blew me off, so I questioned one of her gal pals. She got buck with me and I got booted. End of story.”
But was it? “Who was the friend?”
“Ahnah Hemmingway.”
“What did she have to say? Did you suspect she was in on the joyriding?”
“Ahnah was pretty quiet. I didn’t take her for a liar, but she was Amy-Rose’s friend, so who knows? That chick lied like her tongue was forked. Either way, I let her know we were done and if she ever took my boat out again, she’d pay.”
“You threatened her,” Ty said.
Skipper gave Ty a you’re-an-idiot look. “Yeah. I did. That’s my boat. My baby. My livelihood. I should have turned her in for it. I didn’t kill her. I didn’t tattoo her and toss her on a lighthouse doorstep. And I didn’t do the same to that other one either.”
Ty wasn’t so sure. “Where were you the night she went missing?”
“I don’t know where I was last weekend. Months ago?” He paused. “What night did she go missing?”
“A Saturday night.”
“I don’t do night tours. Visiting my grandma in Wilmington probably. She’s in an assisted living home.”
Ty held back his laughter. Yeah. Right.
“Don’t look at me like that. My grandma raised me. I owe her, man.”
Guess his face hadn’t hidden the skepticism. “I’m going to check that. Not only with Grandma but nurses and staff.”
“Whatever, man. Check it.” He leaned back and pointed at Deputy Dorn. “You can check it too, Grady.”
Deputy Dorn shifted in his seat and then stood. “I think we’re done here.”
Ty wasn’t. “You two know each other?”
“School. He was a jackwagon then too,” Deputy Dorn said.
Ty watched him swagger from the room. “That true?”
Skipper grinned. “That we went to school together or I’m a jackwagon?”
“I already know one of those answers.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Skipper sighed and tented his hands on the table. “Amy-Rose was cool. Completely crazy but cool. I didn’t kill her. I don’t know who would, but if she was willing to steal my boat, then she might have done something to someone else to tick them off. Or maybe she was named the wrong name and in the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean, this guy is picking girls with flower names, right? Amy-Rose didn’t even go by Rose until she came back from a year of college. Reinvented herself. She was upper-crust, rich girl Amy in school.”
Maybe they were all in the wrong place at the wrong time with a flower name. “Did you know Lily Hayes?”
“Nope.” His answer came fast—too fast—and his eyes shifted to the floor. Why would he lie about Lily Hayes but not Amy-Rose or Ahnah?
“You sure about that? If I check—and I will—and it comes back you knew her, then I’ll have to go through this all over again. Last chance.”
Skipper sat silent. Ty didn’t have anything hard enough to keep him on. For now. “You’re free to go.”
After he exited, Violet entered. “I’m not saying it’s him. But he’s hiding something, and his first-naming Deputy Dorn felt like a warning. Maybe a threat. I’d like to do some further digging into Grady Dorn too.”
