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“Tell me what’s happening!” she shouted. “Is it Judge?”
The possibility had never occurred to Theo, but he quickly dismissed it.
“No,” he answered. “This one’s for me.”
The line went dead on Andie’s end. She immediately dialed back, but there was no answer. The last thing she’d heard was Theo yelling at Gigi, calling her a spoiled child.
“Mommy!”
It was Righley calling from her bedroom.That was weird.
“Just a sec, sweetie!”
Andie and her daughter were home alone on Key Biscayne. Jack hadcanceled “date night” to catch the last flight from Miami to the Bahamas for “business.” It was just as well. She knew Tyler McCormick was from the Bahamas, so his coyness about a “business trip” seemed stupid, and her pretending not to know the actual reason for his trip seemed even stupider. It was all starting to feel like a charade, which made her feel like anything but having a “date night.”
Andie dialed Theo a second time, but there was no answer. She dialed her ASAC as she walked from the kitchen to Righley’s room. Maybe IT could get a location and determine if he needed help. Her call went to voicemail. She left a brief message—“Call me, it’s very important”—and kept her phone with her as she entered the bedroom. Righley was peeking out from under the covers.
“I’m scared,” said Righley.
From FBI agent to mommy, on a dime. “Of what, honey?”
“Pirates.”
“Again?”
She peeled back the covers enough to reveal the rest of her face. “Is that why Daddy went to the Bahamas? To catch pirates?”
“No, honey.”
Andie didn’t go near the subject of piratekillers. She crossed the room, selected a chapter book from the shelf, and sat on the edge of Righley’s bed.
“Wimpy Diarrhea Kid?”she said, using Righley’s twist on the title. Such was the sense of humor a seven-year-old brought to a book.
“Yay!”
Andie was still worried about Theo. She needed to follow up again with her ASAC. “You get started,” she said, handing the book to Righley. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”
“Aww, Mommy.”
Andie’s cell rang, ending the debate. It was her ASAC. She stepped out and took the call in the hallway. She was about to tell him about Theo, but he had news of his own.
“We got another victim,” said Greenberg.
Andie felt chills. “Who?”
“Twenty-four-year-old Black male. Autopsy won’t be till tomorrow,but preliminary indications are that he was the victim of ligature strangulation. Body was found chained to a harbor piling after a tip to the local media.”
“What about the killer’s signature?”
“It’s there,” said Greenberg, “‘goodbye girl.’”
“Where’s the crime scene?”
“Jamaica,” he said. “A place called Port Royal. I’m told that, back in the day, it was a notorious place for the execution and gibbeting of pirates.”
“This guy is not very subtle, is he?” said Andie.
“The task force coordinator in D.C. has already been in touch with the Jamaican Constabulary Force and INTERPOL. No question that this is within the purview of Operation Gibbet. You’re approved for access to the crime scene in Port Royal and the autopsy in Kingston. I need you in the air as soon as possible.”
