"That's what I'm trying to find out.”
Frank took another sip.
"Did you have any other suspects at the time?”
Frank took a deep breath. "Not really. Ray was our obvious choice. I don't think we even considered anybody else."
"Who's the journalist?”
Frank took another deep breath. "Oh, what the hell was his name? Chris something. Johannesen," he said, snapping his fingers. "That's it.”
"Do you have contact information for him?”
"I'm sure it's in my phone somewhere. I can look it up for you if you like.”
"That would be great. When did you say you spoke to him?”
"Oh, I guess it was about a month or two ago.”
“Did Chris say what his next steps were?”
"Well, he came by the boat, and we talked for a few hours about it. He said he was trying to track down everyone who worked the case at the time. I'm not sure who all he talked to. I hate to say it, but most of us are dead. I think it's just me and Larry.”
"Larry?”
"Fitzgerald. We were partners at the time.”
"When was the last time you spoke to Larry?”
"It's been a few months. He’s living in Texas. Wanted to be a rancher. He was having some trouble, went to the hospital. I tried to keep in touch with him, but didn't hear much from him when he got out. I think his wife has her hands full taking care of him. You know how it is, life happens. I hope he’s okay. I need to call him. I suppose he's still trucking along.”
"When was the last time you were in Coconut Key?" I asked.
Frank thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. It's been a long time. Don't have much reason to get down there. Everybody I know lives in Pineapple Bay. Sadly, most of them are dead now.”
"Still carrying a weapon?" I asked.
"You better believe it. If anything, crime’s gotten worse around here.”
"Smart. What’s your weapon of choice these days?”
"I still like my 9mm. But I’ve got a .38 and a .357 Magnum. Any one of those will get the job done. What about you?”
"I'm rocking a 9mm. But it’s like anything else. The right tool for the right job. Do you own a .22?”
His face twisted. "Why would I want a pee shooter like that?”
I shrugged.
Frank grew suspicious. "Ray Coleman… How was he killed?”
"I can't discuss details of an ongoing investigation. You understand.”
His face tightened. "You come all the way up here and ask me about a case, and you’re not willing to share details. Who am I gonna tell?”
"Ray was shot twice in the back of the head," I said.
"A professional hit. What caliber?”
