“Mr. Alonzo?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m an FBI agent”—Ben held up his ID—“investigating the incident the other day, the shark attack. I just wanted to go over Mr. Alonzo’s statement. It concerns an insurance claim.”
The man relaxed visibly, opened the door wider, and leaned against the door frame. “I’m Kimo. What do you want to know?”
“Did you see the shark?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I heard the lady scream. I looked out into the water. I saw something. I was there with my cousins. I was more interested in getting them out of the water.”
“Did you see the woman who disappeared?”
He shook his head. “The woman who saw the shark, she was hysterical. I was afraid she’d have a heart attack. She got most of my attention. So much noise she made. I kept an eye on her. I’m training to be an EMT. I tried to calm her down.”
“Did you see the man who said his wife was gone?”
Kimo nodded. “I called 911 for him. He didn’t seem to know what to do.”
Ben hadn’t seen that tidbit mentioned. He’d assumed Moffit called the police.
“Did you see blood or anything?”
“Nah.”
“Is there anything you can tell me that maybe you remembered after you spoke to the police?”
Alonzo thought for a moment. “Something weird, but it was later, after the police came.”
“What happened?”
“The lady who screamed, and the guy, the husband, it almost seemed like they knew each other. They stood close for a minute and then separated to talk to the cops.”
It was Ben’s turn to pause. “After the police came? Before the search?”
“Yeah, I was leaving with the kids. They didn’t want to leave; they wanted to see everything. I made them go. I saw those two, and they were going to hug.”
“Maybe one stranger comforting another stranger?”
He shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“Can you describe the woman?”
“A tourist. Pale skin, dark reddish-brown hair to her shoulders, tall but not quite as tall as me. I’m six feet. She wasn’t really dressed for the beach. She had white shorts on and a flowery blouse.”
“Anything else?”
Kimo thought for a minute, then shook his head.
“Thanks for your help.”
“FBI? Was the attack a scam?”
“I don’t know. I’m just asking questions. If you remember anything else, tell the police, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Ben pondered what Kimo had told him. He stopped at his car, stunned, when a realization hit. Kimo had described Crystal Benton. Though her hair was not reddish, it was brown. Ben realized what was off about Benton when he saw her in the hotel. There had been a reddish tint to her normally dark hair. And the cut was shorter than normal.
