A few minutes later, Jack stepped back into the sunshine and climbed behind the wheel. He fired up the flat six and revved it a few times. The grin on his face could not be contained.
He opened the sunroof, put it into gear, and drove out of the parking lot. I followed in the van, though I couldn't keep up with him on the drive back to Diver Down. The Porsche wasn’t the fastest in the world, but the quirky handling dynamics of the rear-engined sports car made it much sought after among enthusiasts.
I parked the van in the lot, then hopped into the 911 with Jack. We sped across the island to find Patrick Carlson. He lived in Sandpiper Point aboard a 42-foot Voguer Marine. It was a nice boat, and wasn’t more than a few years old. Given Patrick’s current employment situation, I hoped the boat was paid for, for his sake.
We found theDrifter, and I banged on the stern and shouted, "Coconut County!"
Unemployed, I figured there was a good chance we'd catch Patrick aboard.
He poked his head out of the salon a moment later and looked at us with confused eyes. "What do you want?"
Patrick Carlson was a thin, nerdy-looking guy with a narrow face, brooding brown eyes, curly chocolate hair, and boyish features. In his mid-30s, he had done well for himself until this point.
I flashed my badge and made introductions. "We're investigating the death of Sydney Hollister.”
He frowned and shook his head with a somber expression. "I heard about that on the news. Such a shame."
"That's interesting. I didn't think you two were on good terms.”
He shrugged and looked at me like it was a silly thing to say. "I was on great terms with Sydney. What are you talking about?”
I pulled out my phone, looked at the screen, and read from a screen capture. It was the text message he had sent to Sydney prior to her death. "And I quote,You fucking bitch. You ruined my life. Somebody ought to strangle you, and that somebody might just be me."
His face went long and pale. "How did you get that?”
"From her cell phone," I said dryly, staring at him.
Patrick swallowed hard. "I was pissed. She promised me I’d remain anonymous.” He paused. “It was just something I said. I didn't mean it. I mean, she ruined my life. I meant that part.”
"Where were you last night between 11:00 PM and 1:00 AM?"
"I was right here, aboard my boat."
"Can anyone verify that?”
Patrick frowned. "No. They can't. Because I don't have any friends anymore. All my friends work for ERI. Now they won't have anything to do with me. My girlfriend stopped talking to me.”
"Girlfriend?" I said in a doubtful tone just to get under his skin.
"Okay, she's not really my girlfriend. She was a coworker, but we were moving in the right direction. Now they're saying I sexually harassed her. That's bullshit." Patrick clenched his jaw, and his cheeks reddened. "Those guys are evil. Pure, unadulterated evil. I exposed them. I deserve an award.” His lips tightened. "I should have just kept my mouth shut. My life would be fine. I’d still have a paycheck. Who knows, I might even have been with Darcy last night. I should have been.”
Patrick was a little delusional. Maybe a lot.
"Did you go by Sydney's apartment last night?”
"No. I told you, I was here. I don't have a social life anymore."
Something told me that Patrick didn't have much of a social life before.
"Have you ever been over to Sydney’s apartment?”
He hesitated a moment, then looked away when he said, "No, not really."
"What doesnot reallymean?”
"It means I’ve never been inside her apartment.”
"But you've been to her building.”
