"I've been doing some digging," I said. “Wes and Cameron were both witnesses for the prosecution in the case against Darrell York.”
That hung there for a moment.
"That's not all. So were Ian, Landon, and Holden.”
"And you think Darrell York is targeting them out of revenge?"
"It's the best theory we've got so far,” I said. “York is six feet tall with a muscular build. He matches the description. He's got motive, means, and opportunity. He was released from prison just days before these murders began.”
"What's the connection to Dr. Miriam Renick?”
I shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't figured that part out yet. As far as I can tell, she was not a witness or a juror in that case.”
"So you think Darrell gave Wesley the drugs he OD’d on?” Jack said, doubtful.
I frowned at him. "What if Darrell went to Tad? Paid him to overdose Wesley."
"That's kind of a stretch, don't you think?”
"You're killing my excitement for this," I said with a frown, then I added, "Maybe Wesley didn't get the drugs from Tad. Maybe he got them from a new supplier.”
JD said, "Well, let's go knock on doors and rattle cages.”
Sometimes it was the only way to get a case rolling. You just had to stir things up, one way or the other.
We grabbed an umbrella, left the boat, and hustled down the dock to the Porsche. We climbed in and headed across the island to Sandpiper Point. It was an upscale marina full of tech types, crypto millionaires, business magnates, and Darrell York.
Like a fish out of water, he was hobnobbing with high society. His Internet funding campaign had turned him into a millionaire. I'm not sure how much of that he had left after buying a 42-foot sailboat and paying for slip fees at the marina. But for now, Darrell York was living the good life aboard theFreebird.
I banged on the stern and shouted, “Coconut County.”
The Freebird was a thing of beauty. With a navy hull, white trim, and teal deck work, it was elegant yet capable. A hydraulic swim platform, dual helms, and open cockpit with a Bimini hard top and integrated solar panels, the‘Birdwas ready to take on the seas.
A few moments later, Darrell opened the hatch and poked his head out. His brow furrowed with annoyance. “What the hell do you want?”
“Just need to talk,” I said, displaying my badge.
“I got nothing to talk to you about.”
Darrell knew the drill all too well, and he knew to keep his mouth shut.
"Thought you might like to know Wesley Oliver and Cameron Talbot are dead," I said.
Darrell's eyes narrowed with curiosity. He hesitated a moment and said, "Well, sucks for them."
"Not a big fan of those guys, are you?"
He huffed. "Why should I be? They took 15 years of my life. Added an untold amount of stress. That kind of stress will send you to an early grave," Darrell said.
"You still mad at them?"
Darrell forced a smile. “I've tried to let go of all that. But those bastards got up on that stand and lied. Every last one of them. For a man in my position, I think forgiveness is key. It's the only way to move on. You hang on to something like that for too long, and it will eat you up inside. I wasted enough of my life in that cell. I don't need to waste any more time thinking about those assholes. I don't wish nothing bad upon nobody, but I suspect they'll get what's coming to them eventually.”
"You don't have the slightest urge to take revenge?" I said, egging him on.
Darrell stared at me for a moment. "Like I said, I don't think about them much. Prison was an eye-opening experience. Made me look at the world in a whole new way."
"Did you find God in prison?" I asked in a sardonic voice.
