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“I’m coming,” Kennedy said. “I want to see this island for myself.”
“There’s something strange about it,” Jason admitted. “It’s got an atmosphere I can’t explain. Somewhere between peaceful and sinister.”
Kennedy gave a brief laugh.
“I know. But that’s the truth. I felt uneasy all the time I was there.”
“With good reason.”
“Yes. Shipka was convinced the Havemeyer kid was killed on the island.”
“Based on?”
“Not a lot. Largely the alleged rape and kidnapping of another young man the year before. But as a point of interest, there are three separate graveyards, including Native American burial grounds. Plenty of places to conceal a body.”
“You don’t need a graveyard to get rid of a body,” Kennedy said.
And recalling those dark woods and rocky coastlines, Jason had to agree.
On the drive to Seaport Sloops, Kennedy requested Jason bring him up to speed on everything Shipka had shared. Jason related the story about Marco Poveda and the dropped rape charges as well as the other various rumors surrounding Shepherd Durrand.
At the end of it, Kennedy said, “It would be interesting to know where Shepherd Durrand was yesterday, but your guy is the older brother. Barnaby. Correct?”
“I’m not ruling Shepherd’s participation out. But yes, Barnaby is the complainee in the charges filed against the gallery. He hasn’t denied selling the paintings either. That said, there are no rumors about Barnaby. Which is to say, not like there are about Shepherd.
Even before Shipka contacted me, I’d heard the whispers about drugs, rough sex and S&M clubs. He has a reputation for spending money like water. He’s a playboy. In fact, I’d say he takes pride in that reputation. What nobody ever whispered was that he has a head for business. But I saw his office. I spoke to him. I think he’s a lot sharper than people give him credit for. I think he’s full-fledged partner in that gallery. The question is not does Shepherd know everything Barnaby is up to. I’d say the question is does Barnaby know everything Shepherd is up to.”
“What do you think? Does he?”
“I don’t know yet. But I plan to,” Jason said.
“While we’re on the topic of Barnaby, your pal Detective O’Neill informed me that Durrand left the island at the crack of dawn this morning.”
“Before he could be questioned about my alibi?” Jason demanded.
“Yes.”
“Goddamn it. That’s not a coincidence.”
“Probably not.”
“Are they going to pursue this? They’re not just going to let this go, are they? Where is he headed? Do they know?”
“Slow down,” Kennedy told him. “Durrand is back in Los Angeles. I’ve already received confirmation on that. And no, according to Detective O’Neill, they’re not going to just let this go.”
“The Durrands own that town and everyone in it.”
“Whoa,” Kennedy said. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? I spoke directly to O’Neill. I don’t think he’s a fan of the Durrands.”
“He’s not a fan of mine either.”
“No, but I believe he’ll do his job. I believe he’ll show due diligence.”
Jason glowered out the window.
Kennedy glanced at him. There was the faintest note of humor in his voice as he said, “Anyway, you’ve still got a couple of things working in your favor. First, nobody at the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office is going to leap to the conclusion you’re gay, so the idea that you had a relationship with Shipka is not likely to occur.”
“It wasn’t a relationship. We had sex. One time,” Jason said. Why did he feel the need to make that point? Oh, right. Because it was the truth.
