The Forgotten (Krewe of Hunters)

“I can only imagine what you and the police will be dealing with,” Gunderson said. He sighed and shook his head. “Well, we’re almost back, but of course we’re at your disposal again any time you need us.” He turned to Brett and asked, “You’ll see to the proper transfer of the remains?”

 

 

“Dr. Phil Kinny, the ME, will be meeting us at the dock,” Brett said.

 

Rick rose. “Time for us to see to our girl, Lara. Gentlemen, thank you.”

 

She rose, too, thanked the officers for their help and accepted their thanks in return, then followed Rick when he dived cleanly from the boat to join Cocoa. Together the three of them swam back toward the gate, which had been opened for them, and into the lagoon. Cocoa swept past Lara, then came back and swam through with her. Nearing the platform, Lara found the shallows and stood on one of the slippery steps, stroking Cocoa. She watched as the cutter slid up next to the farthest platform, allowing Brett and Diego to disembark. She noticed a group waiting for them on the platform. Men in suits and white coats. One official-looking man in a dark suit immediately fell into step with the two agents; she assumed he was their superior.

 

They left quickly, and Lara turned her attention to what was going on at the center, which had reopened to the public that morning. Several school classes were there, and Adrianna was in one of the middle lagoons conducting a dolphin swim with special-needs children. Other visitors were eating at the picnic tables by the café.

 

She supplied Cocoa with fish as a reward for her efforts, and as Rick had told her, she made sure that she praised and thanked Cocoa verbally and with long strokes down her back. Then she was out of the water at last. She made it into the employee shower and back out to her office within the half hour.

 

Grady was waiting for her, leaning on her desk.

 

“You really okay?” he asked her. “You know we’re thrilled to have you here. You love the dolphins, and the dolphins love you. But under the circumstances...if you want some time off, if you want me to call Adam or the Krewe, just say the word.”

 

Grady was such a sweetheart, Lara thought. She walked over to him and shook her head, smiling. “A murderer’s...work has affected the peace of our lagoon. I’m glad I can do something to help catch him, and I promise you, I’m just fine. But I am tired, so thank you. I think I will take the afternoon off.”

 

“Okay, then. If it all becomes too much, you just let me know.” He rose, set a hand on her shoulder, smiled and left.

 

She was gathering up some press materials to work on at home when she felt someone watching her from the doorway.

 

She turned.

 

A handsome middle-aged man was standing there. He had the look of an old Spanish aristocrat with angular features, a neatly manicured beard and mustache and dark eyes. He was dressed in a guayabera, a short-sleeved shirt made popular by the Cuban community. He looked at her, seemed to wince and then turned and walked away.

 

“May I help you?” Lara called after him.

 

No answer.

 

She hurried to the door. No one else was in sight, but she quickly opened the other doors along the hallway. The only person she found was Adrianna. “Did you see the man who was here a minute ago?” Lara asked.

 

“What man? Rick? Or Grady?”

 

“No. A man I’ve never seen before was at my door,” Lara said.

 

“A cute one, I hope. Though I have to tell you, I think the FBI is putting hot on their application forms these days. I’m still madly in love with my husband—or as madly as anyone can be after twenty years—but if I wasn’t, and if I weren’t a good decade his senior, I’d be all over that guy,” Adrianna said.

 

“Which guy?” Lara asked.

 

“Tall, dark and handsome.”

 

“Which tall, dark and handsome?”

 

“Okay, tall, dark, brooding and handsome. Agent Cody,” Adrianna said. “Though I wouldn’t turn my nose up at either one of them.”

 

“Well, I’m not talking about either of them,” Lara said. “This was someone else—someone I’ve never seen before. Not a young guy, not any of the cops who were here. I think he was Cuban, definitely Hispanic, and around fifty. He seemed lost.”

 

“I didn’t see anyone. Check downstairs and if you find him, show him out—nicely, of course. This building is off-limits to visitors unless they have an appointment with one of us. Grady doesn’t even like us to have visitors unless he approves first.”

 

“I know. I’m on it,” Lara promised.

 

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