Gabe disconnected and stared out at the ocean. Sunlight glinted off the waves, turning them silver and blue. Price meant well, but careful had gone out the window the moment David stopped answering his phone.
His phone rang twenty minutes later as he sat hunched over his computer, trying to do his own digging. Price.
"That was fast."
"Wasn't hard. Ruiz didn’t exactly have deep cover skills. Marco Ruiz, age thirty-eight, licensed PI for six years. Mostly handled insurance fraud, cheating spouses, skip tracing.Nothing exciting. Clean record. Paid his taxes and avoided traffic tickets and arrest warrants."
"Recent cases?"
"That's where it gets interesting. The last ping on his cell phone was..." A pause. "Your area. Haven Cove vicinity."
Gabe's grip tightened on the phone. "Client list?"
"Working on it. His office is locked up tight. I’ll need a court order to dig into his files." Price exhaled. "I can push through official channels, but that'll take time. Judge has to review, make sure we're not violating PI-client protections."
"How long?"
"Twenty-four to forty-eight hours minimum."
Time David didn't have.
"One more thing," Price continued. "Ruiz had a concealed carry permit. Applied for a replacement Glock two months ago after reporting his original stolen, but the new one was still pending approval."
"So he shouldn't have been armed."
"Right. Except..." Price paused. "I got a preliminary look at the ME's report. Body shows irritation from a shoulder holster. Fresh. He was carrying recently."
"Weapon's missing from the scene."
"Looks that way."
Ruiz had been armed despite waiting on permit approval. And now the gun was gone.
Either the killer took it as a trophy, or it was evidence that pointed somewhere specific.
"Keep digging on that client list," Gabe said. "I need to know who hired him."
"I'll do what I can. What's your next move?"
Gabe stared through the window at the ocean visible beyond the marina. "Following the lead. If Ruiz was conducting surveillance, he wasn't staying in town. Place istoo small. Too nosy. There's a lodge fifteen miles north. Off the grid. Cash friendly."
"Seafoam Lodge," Price said, already typing. "Got it. Want me to call ahead?"
"No. I'll handle it in person." Gabe started the engine. "One more thing." He stopped. He was going to ask Price to run background on the baker, but he couldn’t get the words out. It could wait. He had no evidence that she was involved in either the murder or David’s disappearance. Actually, the total opposite. Being secretive wasn’t a crime. He could go down that road if necessary. “Never mind. Thanks for everything.”
"You got it. I'll call you back."
Gabe disconnected and grabbed his car keys. Time to see what Marco Ruiz might have left behind.
The drive to the motel took twenty minutes through dense coastal forest. Towering pines crowded both sides of the highway, their trunks dark against the undergrowth. The air grew cooler, thick with the scent of wet earth and fir needles. Gabe worked the problem like a puzzle with missing pieces.
David investigating something in Haven Cove. Goes dark three weeks ago.
Marco Ruiz, PI, shows up asking questions around the same time. Now dead on the beach.
Same timeline. Same town. One missing, one murdered.
The connection was obvious. The question was what they'd both been investigating.
