"Did you see him come or go from the house recently?"
"I try to keep my head down and mind my own business. I don't concern myself with the affairs of others.”
I stifled a look of disbelief. She sure seemed to know all the gossip around the area.
"I gave her my card and told her to get in touch if she remembered any other details.
She thanked me and batted her eyelashes.
About that time, Brenda and her crew rolled the remains out in a body bag atop a gurney.
Tammy’s eyes rounded at the sight. "Seeing that just makes it all so real," she said. Tammy frowned and shook her head.
"Would you happen to know where we might find Bobby?”
"I heard he was living on a friend's boat.”
"You know the name of the friend?”
She frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't.”
We interviewed a few more people but didn’t get any additional info.
Paris accosted us as we made our way back to the car. “Deputy Wild, what can you tell us?”
I gave her limited details and made a call for witnesses to contact the department. Then I stepped out of frame and dialed Isabella for another favor.
19
Bobby Fallon looked nervous when we caught up with him aboard his friend’s sailboat—an older 32-foot Sun Runner in the Mangrove Bay marina.
Isabella had tracked his phone.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you, but your wife is deceased," I said.
"Deceased?” he repeated, not showing much surprise in his expression.
He was a thin guy in his late 20s with scruffy dark hair, narrow brown eyes, and a trimmed mustache and goatee.
"When was the last time you spoke to your wife?"
Bobby shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's been a few days.”
"How long have you been staying aboard this boat?"
"Maybe a month. Things haven’t been great at home.”
"Tell me about that.”
Bobby shrugged again. "There's not much to tell.”
We stood in the cockpit, the sun dipping below the horizon.
Bobby shifted nervously.
"It wouldn't have anything to do with Andrew Holt, would it?”
Anger tightened his jaw. "It would have everything to do with Andrew Holt.”
