The old sailor looked into the camera. His steely eyes narrowed, and his bushy beard fluttered with the breeze. "You better pray I don't ever find you.”
It was a common sentiment among those affected.
Daniels surveyed the destruction with anger. He frowned and shook his head. "Every year, I'm optimistic we’ll get throughspring break without a problem. Then every year, like clockwork, chaos ensues." He paused. "Find the people who did this.”
"I think I know where to start," I said.
“By the way, ballistics on Mason’s revolver match the slugs Brenda pulled out of Ethan.”
We were on the right track.
Jack joined me at the marina, and we made our way to the main office and talked to the property manager, Buck, about security footage. He wasn't too pleased about the situation either.
"What have you got?" I asked.
"Not much. A lightning strike a few months back took out the camera we had in the parking lot. I've got one other camera on the marina, but that’s hit or miss. It's wireless, and it's got a solar charger on it, but sometimes it doesn't show up on the network. I don't really understand how all this shit works.”
He pulled up the feeds on the computer at his desk, and we huddled around as he scrolled through.
It was a little after 3:00 AM when several masked thugs hustled down the dock, carrying cans of gasoline. They boarded the boats, doused them with accelerant, then set the boats on fire. It was a miracle they didn't burn themselves up.
The footage was dark and grainy, and even though it was high-definition, it wasn't a great camera. I told Buck to export the footage, but there wasn't much we could glean about the assailants.
The thugs had left the gas cans aboard the boats. The plastic containers all burned up in the fire. It looked like the hoodlumshad all worn gloves. The only way we were going to solve this was if one of the vandals got mouthy and started bragging to the wrong person. But I wasn't holding my breath.
Buck exported the footage and sent it to my phone. I forwarded it to the sheriff and Isabella. Who knows what she could figure out.
We talked to Paris before leaving the marina. On camera, I made a call for witnesses to come forward.
I had driven Jack's Porsche to Salt Point. He’d taken a rideshare from the redheads’ place to meet me. I tossed him the keys, and he hopped behind the wheel and fired up the engine. His nose soured. “What’s that smell?”
I shrugged innocently.
He dropped it into gear, and we drove across the island to find Mr. X. With his public appearance on camera, Isabella had ID’d him with facial recognition. His name was Kyle Walker, and his girlfriend, Allison Monahan. According to DMV records, they lived together in an apartment at the Delphine. It was popular with young professionals and wasn't exactly cheap. Kyle didn't strike me as the type who had a corporate job. Something told me he might have been a trust fund baby.
A background check told me that he mostly kept himself out of trouble. A few speeding tickets, some parking violations, a DUI three years ago, and a misdemeanor possession charge for weed. At this point, nobody was even prosecuting that around Coconut Key. We had bigger fish to fry.
We parked in the visitors’ lot at the Delphine, hopped out, and walked to the front door. I buzzed random numbers on the callbox until somebody let me in. I didn’t want to alert the suspects to our presence until we were at their door.
We finally gained access, walked across the lobby, and took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Kyle lived in #422. I put a heavy fist against the door and shouted, "Coconut County!"
34
Kyle pulled open the door with nervous eyes darting between the two of us. "What are you doing here?"
"Just thought we’d have a little chat," I said.
"How did you find me? Did Paris give you my name?"
"No. Paris doesn't give up sources. I told you I would find you. Appearing on camera yesterday wasn't the smartest move.”
He frowned. "Somebody's gotta stand up for what's right.”
"Is burning down boats right?" I asked.
His brow wrinkled with confusion. "What are you talking about?"
I gave him a look. "Don't play dumb with me.”
