Bone Island 03 - Ghost Moon

Chris Vargas reddened. He was a lean, lithe man in decent shape from running up and down all the time with a fair amount of weight behind him. He could probably be dangerous, under certain circumstances, Liam decided. His features were sharp, like a little rat’s. He’d been scraping for a living too long, drinking to drown his unhappiness a few too many nights.

 

“All right,” the man said softly. “We—we weren’t after much, Lieutenant Beckett. Honest to God. Just some little thing.”

 

“And you were in here last night, too, trying to scare those kids to death, huh?” Liam asked.

 

“No, we were not in here last night!” Gary White said, indignant. He stood straight, and seemed really hurt at the accusation.

 

Liam looked at Chris Vargas. Vargas stared back at him, shaking his head emphatically.

 

“Oh, God, we’re under arrest, right?” Gary asked miserably.

 

“How did you get in?” Liam asked.

 

Gary looked puzzled. He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. “Um—the door?”

 

“You walked in the front door. How? You picked the lock?” Liam asked.

 

“No, it wasn’t locked,” Gary assured him.

 

Liam believed him. Gary White was just a bit too dense to be a good liar.

 

“Look,” Vargas said, “we just walked in because—”

 

“You were robbing the estate,” Liam interrupted.

 

“Not really robbing,” White protested. “Just… Ah, come on, Lieutenant. If you heard us, you know that we’re just… All right, so we were going to take something really little. And, hell, we’re not bad. The kids in here the other night—those little bastards have broken into other places. They don’t steal, but they smoke pot, yeah, they smoke pot up in the rooms and play with all the stuff the snowbirds leave behind.”

 

“If you weren’t in here,” Liam asked wearily, “how do you know about the kids?”

 

“Because everybody knows about the kids,” Vargas said. “Ah, Lieutenant! You know this is a small town, really. Everybody knows everything. And it’s true. I heard they got the bejesus scared out of them here. I hope it’s true. It will keep the little rug rats from causing real trouble.”

 

“That’s right,” White agreed solemnly, nodding at Vargas as if the two of them were the most solid citizens in the world.

 

Gary White must have seen something in Liam’s face. He choked slightly, cleared his throat and asked, “Are you going to arrest us?”

 

This whole thing was beyond absurd. Two nights in a row. First, kids. Second? Two of the denizens of the place who weren’t known for violence, who just eked out a living. If he arrested them, an attorney would have them out on bail. And what would they get for trespassing? They hadn’t stolen anything; he had arrived too soon, and, from what he could tell, they couldn’t find anything they actually wanted to steal anyway.

 

He thought about the paperwork.

 

And, to his knowledge, Gary White had never done anything to break the law that was more serious than jaywalking.

 

“Get the hell out of here,” he said.

 

They both stared at him.

 

“Now,” he said.

 

They bolted like lightning. He turned and watched them from the kitchen doorway. They had trouble opening the front door, the one crashing into the other, crashing into the door, then each other again.

 

Finally, they made it out.

 

He walked to the door himself. There was nothing wrong with it that he could see. The lock hadn’t been picked.

 

Someone else out there had a key.

 

Tomorrow he’d have to have the lock changed.

 

 

 

Going from the West Coast of the States to the east coast made it difficult to arrive with much of anything left of daylight, especially once daylight savings time was gone. But Kelsey had found an early-morning flight that got her into Miami around three in the afternoon. She could have taken a puddle jumper down to Key West from Miami International Airport, but she wanted to drive. Baggage claim at MIA was insane, but eventually she was ready to head out for the rental-car agency, and by four-thirty she was driving south.

 

The turnpike took her to Florida City, and she headed down U.S. 1, past the gas stations, one real restaurant and fast-food eateries to the eighteen-mile stretch of nothingness that led to Key Largo and from there south and then west to Key West.

 

They’d improved the road, though she still saw signs and crosses where those in a hurry had tried to pass, only to pay the ultimate price. She managed to get behind a truck towing a huge boat trailer, but she didn’t mind waiting for the passing zone.

 

It had been a long time.

 

The day was beautiful. The turquoise water glistened, the waves were gentle and calm. In a few areas, construction workers were still claiming land to widen the road and the stench of stagnant water overpowered the view, but the sight of a cormorant soaring above the water seemed to lift the stench beyond her windows, and then she was past it.