He sat back. “I’ve got to give Liam a call and then talk to Pete. He let me reopen the old case through Liam, just so long as I report to him. I really want to let them both know that they need to be taking a look at what I think are bruises. It really shows, in my opinion, that the victims were ambushed from behind.”
“Then what?” she asked.
“Then-let’s go barhopping.”
Dusk was coming. In another hour, the sun would fall. Then night, with the sound of music and laughter. It became distant, like whispers from the past. Darkness was a lovely time, a time when the old trees tipped down protective branches, when streets were shadowed, when all manner of evil might exist and never be seen.
She was with him again.
Soon, the sun would set again. A magnificent sunset, the kind that had made Key West famous. On Mallory Square the entertainers would begin their night’s work, hoping for tips. Cat trainers, magicians, acrobats, robotic people, all would begin in earnest…
Katie O’Hara was with David Beckett.
Ah, yes, once again, David Beckett on top, carrying with him all the pompous righteousness of decades of Becketts, Becketts who shouldn’t have survived to populate the island.
She couldn’t be with him all the time.
No, she couldn’t be with him all time. There were times when she would have to be alone.
He stared at the house, and he smiled, because he felt powerful. They all thought they were such great detectives, and they were such fools.
It was all moving along so smoothly. The island was agog with the murder of a whore, but hell, it was a capitalist’s world. Fantasy Fest was on the way.
Oh, Lord, that would be so much fun.
It would make everything so easy.
And it would set the scene for one final and beautiful curtain call. He would finish it all, taking down the family.
Katie would have to die, and be immortalized.
The main thorn was David Beckett, so beloved of Craig!
And, at long last, David would go down.
He had seen his mistakes of the past; he knew better now. He had learned. David would go down.
Bless the state of Florida, and the death penalty.
The next time Katie’s phone rang, it was Clarinda. David was still on his own phone, pacing around the table in the dining room as he put through two calls, one to his cousin Liam and another to Lieutenant Dryer.
“Hey, hey, you there?” Clarinda asked.
“Yes, hey, what’s up?”
“Jonas and I are going to go down to Mallory Square. Want to join us?”
“You’re going to Mallory Square?” It was a huge destination for tourists, and, actually, beautiful and a lot of fun. The sunsets were spectacular. Jugglers, musicians, all kinds of entertainers came from all over the world to perform on the square.
“We thought it would be nice. I take it you’re still hanging with David Beckett?”
“Yes.”
“And, of course, you’re both obsessed with the death of that poor Stella Martin?”
“As you imagine,” Katie agreed.
“Well, no one can solve something like that, and if you two become too obsessed, you’ll be worthless because you won’t see straight. Come on out, we’ll have drinks and dinner.”
David had hung up. Katie looked over at him. “It’s Clarinda. She wants us to meet with her and Jonas and walk around Mallory Square, have drinks and dinner.”
She thought that he would turn down the idea, because he was-obsessed.
“That sounds fine. What time are we meeting them, where?”
“What time, where?” Katie repeated to Clarinda.
“Half an hour-sunset is coming soon. The bar behind the Westin, how’s that?”
David had turned and was starting for the stairs. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Just to freshen up.”
“Well, then, I have to freshen up, too!”
“Ten minutes!” he said. “We’ll run by your place, and you have twelve minutes.”
He was good to his word, but he came down having stepped into the shower, and with freshly shaven cheeks and damp hair. He was devastating, she thought. It wasn’t the simple fact of his good looks, it was more. There was something that seemed hard and chiseled about his features, strong about his stature and compelling when he smiled. She took one look at him and nearly ran for the door, eager to get out before she longed to do something rather than leave and make their appointment.
They walked to her house, and he seemed light, taking her hand, swinging it as they hurried along.
Once in the door, he was all business. “You have twelve to fourteen minutes,” he told her.
“I can be faster than a speeding bullet,” she promised.
And she was. She managed a sixty-second shower and chose a halter dress and sandals with one-inch heels, ran a brush through her hair, splashed water on her face and ran on back down.
“I’m impressed-you have two minutes to spare.”
She smiled, walked to him, leaned against him and kissed him. He smelled divine. He felt rock-hard, and yet warm and vital. His tongue moved in her mouth, and she forgot all about the sunset.
He moved back, smiling, smoothing her hair. She quickly opened the door and stepped into the night, locking the door behind her.
“Sunset on Mallory Square. I can’t remember the last time I was there,” he said.