I ejected the round from the chamber and collected it. "We're going to run ballistics on this. Brian will get his gun back in a few days. How about you come down to the station and answer some more questions?”
Steve shifted uncomfortably, and panic filled his face. "Are you arresting me?”
"Not at this time."
"I'm not saying anything else without an attorney."
"Suit yourself.”
I moved into the salon and examined the hoodie. It didn't have any logos, and there were no obvious signs of blood spatter. I collected it nonetheless. The lab might be able to find something under closer examination.
"You’re just gonna take that?”
"You'll get it back," I assured.
"What happens when the freeze hits?”
"It's not going to freeze," I said. "The last thing I heard on the news, it was going to get down into the 50s. Maybe the 40s."
"Still, that's pretty damn cold.”
By Key standards, that was arctic.
"Buy another jacket," I said, unsympathetic. "You can afford it now that you're not getting a divorce."
He glared at me, and his jaw tightened. His cheeks reddened.
I tried to remain objective about the whole thing, but I wasn’t doing a good job. Stacy could have been talking out of her ass. But Steve just gave off icky vibes, like she said. I was of the mind that maybe he did beat Miriam and do horrible things to her. Things I knew I would never be able to prove. I was cautiously optimistic ballistics might come back as a match.
I got Brian’s number from him, then said, "Don't leave town.”
"I guess you can move back into your house now," JD muttered.
Steve said nothing.
We climbed to the cockpit, hit the dock, and walked back to the parking lot.
“I don’t like that guy,” Jack grumbled.
“I don’t like him either.”
When we reached the car, I grabbed evidence bags, sealed the items, and labeled them.
We climbed inside. JD fired up the flat six, and we drove back to the station, logged the evidence, and filled out after-action reports.
I called Brian to verify Steve’s whereabouts. He answered after a few rings and told me that Steve did play golf with him this morning. But that still left him plenty of time to shoot his wife in the parking lot in the early afternoon.
By that time, Jack and I were ready to unwind with a cocktail. We headed up to Oyster Avenue and met the guys at Castaways. We had a few drinks, blew off steam about the cases, then hit Tide Pool.
Afterward, we caughtLava Lamp Lustat Vibe. They were a psychedelic mix of classic rock and shoegaze. The guys sat in for a few songs and brought the house down with some Wild Fury favorites. We hung out afterward and rounded up a small entourage for a party back on the boat. That continued into the wee hours of the morning.
I managed to get a few hours of sleep before my phone buzzed on the nightstand in the morning. Shafts of amber light spilled in through the blinds. With my eyes still closed, I reached a sleepy hand for the phone and swiped the screen. I scratched out, “Hello?”
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Brenda said.
“Tell me something good.”
26
