But, after slipping sideways when the boat veered, she saw that Owen had gotten to him and grabbed his hands. Now, he was struggling with Keenan for the controls, but as May peered anxiously into the gloom, she saw he’d managed to get his hand on the throttle. That was the biggest win. A moment later, the engine's scream was muted, and the speed bled sharply away.
"Get off me! Let go of my arm!" She heard Keenan’s voice quivering with exertion and panic.
"Let go of the wheel! You chose to run from the cops. Now calm down." Luckily, Owen was taller and stronger than the other man, and Keenan was clearly starting to realize that fighting now, at close quarters, would not get him anywhere.
Sighing with relief, May slowed her own boat, bringing it around in a circle, staying close to the other boat. She might need to be ready to act in an emergency. But now, it seemed, Keenan was finally giving in.
"Slow down. Stop the boat," Owen reasoned. The combination of his tight grip on the controls, and his calm voice, was having an effect. Now, the other boat had stopped completely, and May got the chance to ease hers close again before stopping it too.
The two boats were now side by side, both rocking on the choppy lake.
May could still feel the adrenaline flooding through her. She felt admiration beyond words for her deputy's bravery, and the way he'd managed the situation.
Now, they had their suspect—even though it was out in the middle of a lake and on a dark evening. But at least they could ask the questions they needed to.
"Why did you run away?" That was May's first, breathless question. Owen was holding onto Keenan's arm firmly. That was good. It would prevent him from lunging for the boat's controls, and also from trying something else misguided like leaping overboard. Who knew what people were capable of when things turned desperate?
"You have to understand," Keenan said desperately. "I just want to explain. This was a mistake. I didn't do anything wrong."
"You ran from us when we tried to talk to you," May said. "As soon as you realized we were cops, you started up that boat and fled. That was very suspicious. We only wanted to ask you some questions, and we made that very clear to you." She felt angry all over again at the danger he’d incurred in that headlong, panicked flight.
"I know. I'm sorry. I just—" Keenan seemed to realize that he was in serious trouble now, but he looked more angry than scared. "You people have no right to harass me like this!"
"Have you been harassed before?" Owen asked.
"Yes! Of course I have. Since that stupid incident a couple of months ago, I feel like you guys haven't been off my back. This was just once too many. I’m sorry, but I snapped."
May glanced at Owen, confused.
"What incident?" she asked. “Is this the assault charge?”
“That charge was dropped. Someone was angry that I’d thrown them out of a bar when they were drunk and spoiling for a fight. I guess most security people get disgruntled customers doing that at some stage. This was something else. I guess you know?”
“Tell me,” May said.
"That traffic incident, where my car was caught on camera traveling at ninety miles an hour in a fifty zone. It wasn't me! I'd loaned it to my younger brother. But he is currently on an adventure camp in Bolivia, and he can’t be contacted. I have the proof of it! And I’ve asked the cops repeatedly to lay off me and to fine him when he gets back. I feel like I’m being totally ignored."
"Is that so?" May asked. It was sounding as if this man had been triggered by something else entirely.
"The cops were so determined to nail me that they didn't take what I said seriously. They just thought I was guilty. I’ve been battling since then to get things straightened out. You have to give me the benefit of the doubt," he pleaded.
"We're not here to cause you any difficulties. We just want to ask you a couple of questions, and it’s not about that."
"So, you're not here to hassle me? You're not going to take me to jail?"
"It depends on what your answers are," May said. "But you've got to cooperate. You can't just run away when we stop to talk to you. That's going to make any cop, anywhere, want to bring you in. And as for the questions, they're regarding a recent murder."
She saw Keenan's face fall. He swallowed hard.
"I don't know anything about any murder. If I'd known it was something this serious, I wouldn't have gone out on the water. I thought you’d come to harass me in a petty way." He sounded genuinely apologetic.
"Do you know a man named Ed Blair?"
Keenan shook his head, looking blank. "I don't know him at all."
"Can you account for your whereabouts last night, between about five and eight p.m.?"
Now, Keenan looked relieved. "Yes, I can. I was on shift, right here at the marina. In fact, last night, we had a fight break out. Some teens had been out on the water, and they had been drinking. I had to get involved and make sure nobody got hurt. That happened at about six, and we were around till after nine, waiting till everyone's parents had come to fetch them, because obviously we couldn't let them drive. I can show you the messages and my time sheet."
