“I need names of friends, girlfriends, someone he might turn to for help.”
Chris scowled at me. “My father doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
“Who are his friends?”
“I don’t recall,” he said in a defiant tone. “You people are really going to take Darrell York’s side? Do you know what he did to my sister?” he said, his cheeks red, the veins in his neck throbbing. “He’s a sick man, and he deserves to die.”
I understood his frustration. “Darrell York did his time. Now, your father’s going to do his. The longer this drags out, the worse it’s going to get.”
I didn’t think we’d be getting any assistance from Chris.
We left the boat and walked back to the parking lot. I called Dr. Parker and left a message on his voicemail, hoping to get an update on Darrell.
JD and I headed up to the station and filled out after-action reports. Daniels put a patrol unit at Pirates’ Cove as well as one at Jacob Sweet’s residence. He could have been anywhere by now, but he wouldn’t get far. Not unless he had a stash of cash and a fake passport.
Afterward, we stopped by the Eternal Skies Funeral Parlor for Cameron Talbot's wake. Again, we weren't exactly dressed for the occasion.
The place had an overwhelmingly floral scent. Enough to overpower any smells that might emanate from the deceased. All the embalming was done off-site.
Flatscreen displays looped pictures and videos of Cameron from childhood to his adult years. Grieving guests mixed and mingled, recounting stories of the deceased, mourning the loss of a loved one.
Bottled water, soda, wine, and cocktails were available to help you get through it.
People gave us a few dirty looks because of our attire as we drifted through the crowd.
The usual suspects were present—Cameron's wife, Wesley's ex-wife, Ian, Holden, Landon, and others. I’m not exactly sure what we were looking for. Anything that might give us insight into the case. These murders were clearly connected to their testimony against Darrell York, or so it would seem.
Plenty of gossip drifted about the room, discussing the recent shooting. Most of the people in attendance were in support of Jacob. He was a hero to this crowd. But something more was going on, and I had my suspicions.
I bumped into Holden and offered my condolences.
He asked, "Do you have any idea who's doing this?” It was a loaded question.
“We’re considering all possibilities.”
"Darrell is responsible. I don't care what he says.”
"You know, he's maintained his innocence all these years," I said, just to get a reaction out of him.
It did.
His jaw flexed, and his eyes narrowed. "I saw Sarah with him on his boat the day she disappeared. We all did. He's guilty as sin. Nothing he or anyone else is ever going to say is going to make me change my mind. Go back and talk to anybody involved in that case. Darrell had been harassing Sarah for weeks, coming on to her. She wanted nothing to do with him. The guy was a creep, and still is.”
Holden was pretty hot about it. Understandably so.
He continued, "Darrell’s going after everyone who testified for the prosecution. That’s obvious.”
“How do you explain the doctor?”
His brow wrinkled. ”What was her name? Renfield?"
"Renick. As far as I'm aware, she had nothing to do with Darrell's prosecution."
I planned on having another chat with Darrell as soon as he was stable, if he survived.
"I don’t know how she fits in. But I’ve got half a mind to go to the hospital and pull the plug on the fucker myself."
"I would caution against that," I said.
