“Yes. One arrived on the island yesterday.”
“What’s his name? Where is he? I’d like to talk to him.”
“I have his name here somewhere. Benjamin Isaacs. If he’s still here, I believe he’s staying at the same hotel you are.”
Lainie nearly dropped the phone. “I’ll find him.” Anger flared and she felt as if she’d just been hit by a Taser. What was he doing here, of all places?
She disconnected, her heart rate pounding. What did a shark attack have to do with the FBI and Ben Isaacs? Why was he here investigating her sister’s disappearance? What did any of this have to do with Dallas Vine?
She checked the time and then called her boss.
“Lainie, I’m so sorry about your sister. Is there any good news from the search?”
“No, ah, they stopped searching.”
“Oh, wow, um, no hurry to get back. Take as much time as you need. What can I do for you?”
“I have a couple of questions. Remember that Fed who came and took Hank Bucshon away from us?”
“I do.”
“His name was Ben Isaacs, correct?”
“I believe so. What does this have to do with your sister?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. There’s an agent here poking into my sister’s disappearance. His name is Ben Isaacs.”
“Hmm, that is odd. As far as I know, shark attacks are not federal crimes. Do you want me to investigate?”
“Please. I’ll try to find this guy and ask what’s going on.”
Back at his computer, Ben revisited everything he had on Crystal Benton and Evangeline Moffit. He thought back to when he’d met with Stan’s wife. She was tall, athletic, not unlike her sister. Her deep-red hair was long enough to be tied back. Benton was the same height and general build, her light-brown hair was shoulder length, a bit wavy, and parted in the middle. She wasn’t as athletic or as toned as Moffit.
He put the headshots of both women side by side on his screen. There was a facial resemblance, though not a strong cheekbone match. But when he pulled up copies of their driver’s licenses, it got stronger.
If he imagined Benton with reddish hair, styled like Moffit’s, the resemblance was closer. If Benton did pretend to be Moffit, he doubted the TSA agent at security would have questioned her ID.
His phone buzzed. It was Mark. “What did you find?”
“There is no record of Crystal Benton flying to Hawaii. We checked from two weeks back through today. I also checked the last couple of days to see if she showed up on a return trip to the mainland. I didn’t find her name.”
“She must be using an assumed name. The trouble is, we don’t have any known aliases listed in the file, do we?”
“No. What have you found?”
“Despite what you just told me, I think Benton flew here with Moffit. I don’t think Evangeline was ever here.”
“There is a record of Evangeline and Stan Moffit flying to the island. Do you think something happened to Evangeline on the mainland and the shark attack is a cover-up?”
“I think Benton impersonated Evangeline on the flight, and then they hatched an insurance scam. For some reason they thought a shark attack was a plausible way to cover up murder.”
There, he said it. Ben believed that Evangeline Moffit was dead.
As the thought worked its way through his psyche, Ben felt some guilt ease. This had nothing to do with Vine or the fact that Ben had talked to Evangeline. This was much baser—it was all about adultery and greed.
“You’re sure that Evangeline Moffit is dead?”
Ben remembered the sweet, calm person who had met him for coffee. “I can’t imagine her being part of a scam like this.”
