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“The suave move worked, and here you are. Happ’ly ever after.”
She looked down at her wedding band and turned it around on her finger. “Here I am.” Her soft comment was followed by a ding. She raised her head and looked across the table. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah.” Looking resentful of the interruption, he stretched out his leg and dug into the front pocket of his shorts for his phone. He looked at the readout. “I set myself a reminder. I’m supposed to call my agent. But can I get cell service out here?”
“It extends offshore for ten or fifteen miles.”
“Then I’d better make the call. He’s expecting it.”
He was about to stand when she motioned him back into his chair and got up herself. “I’ll go inside.”
“No, stay here. I’ll go forward. Once he gets wound up, he tends to ramble.”
“It would be hard for you to hear above the wind. Besides, I need to make myself useful.”
Drex was reluctant to end their private conversation. He watched her until she was inside before he tapped in the number. It was answered immediately. “Sheriff’s office, Deputy Gray speaking.”
“Agent Easton. Did you locate the file?”
“Yes, sir.”
Early that morning, Drex had called the Monroe County sheriff’s office in Key West, Florida, figuring that whoever was working the undesirable Sunday morning shift would be junior in rank. A more senior officer wouldn’t be as impressed to be speaking with a federal agent and would have given Drex a lot more hassle.
As good fortune would have it, Gray was just such a rookie.
In their earlier conversation Drex had told him that his field office in Lexington was investigating a missing person case. “Single, affluent, middle-aged woman. It’s almost certain a kidnaping. One of our data analysts determined that some of the particulars of this disappearance are similar to a case your department investigated a few years back.”
There was no such active case in Lexington, but there was a cold case in Key West, where Marian Harris had disappeared, abandoning her yacht in a private harbor and leaving her bank accounts empty.
It could be sheer coincidence that within hours of meeting Jasper Ford, Drex had been invited to go out on a boat with him. The man might never have spent a day of his life in Key West. But Drex had played a hunch and called the sheriff’s department that morning anyway.
He was glad he’d had that foresight, and unapologetic for lying about an investigation in Lexington, because, since talking to Deputy Gray this morning, he’d learned from Talia that Jasper had a passion for being on the water and at the helm of a yacht.
Gray had asked for a few hours to locate the file. Drex had told him he would call back at a designated time. It wasn’t the most ideal time to talk, but Gray was due to go off duty soon, and, besides that, Drex was eager to hear anything the deputy could tell him.
“What have you got for me? And you’ll have to speak up. I’m outdoors.”
“This case was before I joined the department. In between performing my other duties, I’ve been reviewing it, so I have a general grasp. It would help if I knew what you’re looking for, specifically.”
“In particular, I’m seeking information on one of Ms. Harris’s acquaintances. A Daniel Knolls.” Drex spelled the last name.
He could hear Gray tapping on a keyboard. “After she went missing, Knolls was interrogated and released. He owned up to staying overnight on her yacht on several occasions. But other people did, too. Their relationship was platonic, not romantic. He was never considered a suspect. He cooperated fully with investigators.”
Drex already knew all that. Daniel Knolls had cooperated fully, then he’d bolted. He had vacated his apartment and had left no forwarding address. So far, Daniel Knolls hadn’t been heard of again. No credit card charges. No activity on the Social Security number attributed to him. No passport. Taken at face value, he had ceased to exist within two weeks of Marian Harris’s disappearance.
Drex looked toward the wheelhouse. He could see Jasper silhouetted behind the wheel. “Is there a photograph of Knolls in the file?”
“One.”
Drex knew the picture. The quality was lousy. A merging of smiling people whooping it up on the deck of Marian Harris’s yacht. Blurred figures backlit by a blazing setting sun. It could have been Drex himself standing there in the background, face averted from the camera.
He said, “Can you scan that photo and send it to the email address I gave you this morning?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Is there anything new on the case? Any recent info on Knolls?”
“Let’s see. Says here he was sought for questioning after Marian Harris’s body was discovered, but he—”
