Falafel Jones - Max Fried 02 - Payback's a Beach Page 4

  “I meant how do you know it’s made from carbon fiber?”

  “Three ways. One, by examining the shaft. Two, all the Catalina paddles are carbon fiber except for their beginner model, which is only available in silver. Three, I’ve already seen this paddle before.” He released his hold on the paddle. “I’m surprised Floyd let you have it.”

  Ed looked embarrassed. “OK, it’s carbon fiber, so?”

  Fitzpatrick pulled a sheet of paper from his file and placed it on the table in front of us. “The lab reports the black metal trace in the wound is an aluminum alloy.” He indicated the paddle with his chin. “If I were you, I’d return this before the surf’s up.”

  Ed fumed all the way back to Floyd’s apartment.

  “Look, Ed, he’s a stoner but, there’s no evidence he’s a killer and he did get Brenda home safe.”

  Ed nodded, “Yeah, I know. You’re right, Max.”

  “So, why do you look like you want to strangle somebody?”

  Ed grimaced, “Because I made an ass of myself. I bullied that kid, wasted Fitzpatrick’s time and slowed an investigation that can clear my daughter.”

  “What about my time? Feel bad about that too?”

  “Hell no, I’m paying for that.”

  I waited in Ed’s Mercedes while he returned Floyd’s paddle. When Ed got back into the car, he said, “I need something to cheer me up. How about lunch? Bobbi and Jacks?”

  “Sounds good but, I think I’d better go home, see how Mariel’s doing, and see what I can find out about Drew Fisher. The way things are now, Brenda’s still the main suspect and I don’t know how much time we have to clear her.”

  Ed pulled into my driveway, put the car in park, and pulled a plastic bag from inside his blazer. I leaned closer to look at it. At first, it appeared empty. Ed said, “These are hairs from Brenda’s brush.” He looked down at his lap. “I didn’t want to have to use it. Sheila and Brenda don’t know I took it.” He looked at me and shook the bag. “I read that hair can reveal which drugs someone took. This could prove Brenda was drugged.”

  Ed seemed so desperate I didn’t want to disappoint him but he had to know. “I’m sorry, Ed. It takes days or even a week or two for drugs to show up in hair. Samples from this morning wouldn’t test positive yet. Also hair from a brush might show someone was roofied, but it wouldn’t show when.” The police can say any drug found was from weeks ago or even after the day that… you know.”

  Ed returned the bag to his pocket. “We’re at a dead end. They’re going to arrest Brenda, aren’t they?”

  “Maybe, but they don’t have enough evidence yet. Let me see what I can do. We should be able to get a grip on this if we can just find a corner to grab. I’ll retrace Brenda’s steps from Friday and see if anything pops. Can you email me a photo of her?”

  Ed nodded, “Yeah, I’ve got some she sent me but I’d really like to locate that murder weapon.”

  “So would I. It might go a long way towards finding the killer.” I realized I shouldn’t give Ed false hope so I added, “Or it may just be another dead end.”

  “But we won’t know until we find it. I’ll set up a search.”

  “The Coast Guard already looked for it.”

  “Sure, within the time and distance their protocols specify, but what if they had the spot wrong or the current took it.” Ed shook his head. “No, we need to widen the search.” His mood seemed to improve when he said, “I’ll set it up.”

  “Isn’t it too deep to search the inlet?”

  “Nah, most places it’s only about 12, maybe 14 feet. Go have some lunch and wait for my call.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  When I entered my house, it seemed empty. I walked through the great room to the pool patio and found Mariel standing there in her two-piece, facing the pool with dumbbells in her hands. When I opened the sliding door, she turned at the sound.

  “Max.” She put her weights down on the pavers and met me halfway. She reached up and kissed me in a way that made me wonder why I ever left the house.

  She stepped back and looked at me. “This is the second time this week you’re wearing your cargo shorts. Keep it up and you’ll have to buy more underwear. Come change into your swimsuit. I’ll shower and then you can tell me about Brenda while we walk on the beach.”

  “Let me tell you about her now. She’s still the main suspect.”

  “Oh, Max.”

  I told Mariel how Ed and I spent the morning and she asked, “So, now what?”

  “Ed wants to search the water but I’ve got time for some lunch first.”

  She looked disappointed, “I understand. Do what you need to. I’ll finish my workout and hang out by the pool.” I kissed her and went inside to make my lunch. Last night, I made one of my favorite dishes, chicken-less soy cutlets covered with quinoa cooked in broccoli cheese soup. I made extra on purpose. While Mariel exercised out by the pool, I put a quinoa covered cutlet in the microwave and thought about retracing Brenda’s steps. I could start at the yacht club where Brenda first met Fisher but it seemed more likely I’d find something by looking closer to Fisher’s time of death. I knew he had his last meal at the Hidden Harbor, a riverfront restaurant on Ponce Inlet. I was headed out to the pool to discuss my plan with Mariel when my cell phone rang.

  “Max, Ed. We’re all ready. How soon can you get here?”

  “You found divers?”

  “Yeah, I called Coronado Scuba and hired a couple of their staff. They’re on their way. Meet us at my place ASAP.”

  “Just finished lunch. I’ll be right over.”

  “Good, the sea waits for no man.”

  I told Mariel I had to go and we made plans for later. When I pulled into Ed’s driveway, I had to park behind an SUV and a pickup I didn’t recognize. Sheila answered the door. “They’re out back.”

  When I got to Ed’s dock, I found him untying lines in preparation for releasing the Shimmering Sea. He called out, “You just made it,” and helped me on board. As Brenda motored the ship away from the dock, Ed said, “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the crew.” We went below decks where two people in wetsuits leaned over a map on a table.

  Ed put his hand on one man’s shoulder. “Max, this is Chuck Luciano and that’s his partner Marty Farley.”

  In their black rubberized wetsuits, both men looked like actors auditioning for a Batman movie. Luciano appeared to be solid muscle and built like a rock but Farley looked like he could bench press Luciano with just one hand.

  They looked up and nodded at me. I nodded in return and they went back to their map.

  Ed leaned in to whisper, “I had an embarrassing moment when I accidentally referred to Marty Farley as Farty Marley…” Ed shrugged, “but then I got the impression he’d heard that before.”

  I shook my head in sympathy. “Considering his size, I can’t imagine anyone calling him that intentionally. So, why do you need me here?”

  “I need you to take custody of whatever we find, preserve the chain of evidence.”

  “Can’t you do that?”

  Ed raised an eyebrow. “How would that look? The Coast Guard couldn’t find it but the defendant’s father just happened to locate the murder weapon that exonerates his daughter. Brenda may be your client but you’re a professional investigator. You should have more credibility with a jury…” Ed sighed, “if need be.”

  “Forest OK with this?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a son and a daughter. I apologized for being heavy handed and he said he understood. Coffee?”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  Ed and I took our cups outside to the cockpit and I sat enjoying the ride while Brenda navigated the ship into the inlet. A few minutes south of the drawbridge, Brenda brought the boat to a halt and dropped the anchor. Luciano and Farley went over the side and we waited. Watching divers work is like watching submarine races. There isn’t much to see unless you like to look at bubbles. The divers surfaced a few times, gave the sign for “Nothing found,”
and then moved on to another spot.

  As time passed, I started to enjoy just watching the water from the boat, excuse me, ship and I wondered if it would be uncool to take a nap. My eyes closed and almost made that decision for me when I heard Ed sputter. I looked out over the water and saw Floyd on his paddle board approaching us from shore. Then I heard the cabin door close as Brenda went below decks. Floyd paddled up to the Shimmering Sea and grabbed onto the ladder. Ed leaned over the side and demanded, “What do you want?”

  Floyd said, “I saw the divers. You’re too far east. That guy’s boat was further west.” Floyd pointed. “You need to look in that direction.”

  Ed waved dismissively, “Yeah, thanks. I’ll tell them. Goodbye.”

  Floyd stood there holding onto the ship. After a while, he seemed to realize Ed wasn’t going to pay him any more attention and Floyd paddled away.

  I closed my eyes again and enjoyed feeling the ship swaying and the sun warming my face. I dozed for a while until I woke myself up by snoring. I sat up to see if I missed anything and saw Brenda in the cockpit reading her Kindle and the two divers swimming up to the side of the Shimmering Sea. Ed leaned over and offered them a hand but both Luciano and Farley reached instead for the ladder railing. After they pulled themselves on board, Luciano shook his head and said, “Nothing. There’s nothing down there.”

  Ed pointed west. “The guy who made the 911 call says he found the boat over there.”

  Farley stood and looked west and then shook his head. “He’s wrong. That area is too shallow for the Amante to have been there and the current doesn’t flow in that direction.”

  Luciano nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve been all over the place. There’s nothing down there. Time to call it a day.”

  Brenda put her Kindle in her bag, positioned herself behind the wheel and we headed back to Ed’s. I said, “I’m surprised Floyd could have been so wrong about where to look. He paddles this area daily. I would have expected him to know where he was.”

  Ed said, “Yeah, well. It’s tough to keep track of things when you’re high.”

  We docked at what Ed liked to call Port McCarthy and everyone disembarked the Shimmering Sea. We said our goodbyes and I headed home.

  When I arrived at the house, Mariel was antsy and wanted to go out so I asked her, “How’d you like to go out for a drink?”

  “I’d like that. Bobbi and Jack’s?”

  “I thought we’d take the water taxi to the Hidden Harbor on Ponce Inlet.”

  “We’ve never been there and we’ve also never been on the water taxi. That could be fun, but wouldn’t you rather stay on the island?”

  “I’d like to see where Brenda had dinner that night and find out if anything happened.”

  “Oh, so this is business, not pleasure.”

  I shook my head. “When you’re involved, it’s always pleasure… but I am going to bill Ed for this.”

  “Give me a few minutes to shower and dress.”

  More than a few minutes later, we walked up to the dock at the Riverview Grille restaurant on Flagler Avenue and caught the water taxi. It was a fun ride and we saw a pair of dolphins swimming alongside the boat as we crossed the inlet to the Hidden Harbor restaurant. The taxi docked and we joined the small group of people leaving the boat for the bar. Mariel and I took seats at a bistro table on the deck and I could see New Smyrna Beach across the water.

  I noticed a young attractive woman taking an order from a couple on the other side of the deck. She seemed to be the only server on duty. I admired the view of the river for a moment and when I looked back, I saw the waitress delivering drinks to a large group at another table. I said to Mariel, “Wow, she’s fast. Just a second ago, she was taking an order on the other side of the place.”

  Mariel said. “These are a lot of tables for one person to handle. She must be very good.”

  I looked for the waitress and saw her enter the kitchen only to exit a second later carrying a big tray of lunch plates. I turned back to Mariel and heard a voice behind me as the waitress placed two coasters on the table in front of us. I looked down at her feet to see if was wearing roller skates. She wasn’t.

  “Welcome to the Hidden Harbor. I’m Tiffany. What can I get you?”

  “Two vodka tonics, please.”

  Tiffany smiled and nodded. Just before she turned away, I pulled out my phone and brought up the picture of Brenda that Ed had emailed me. I showed her Brenda’s photo and asked, “Do you recognize her?”

  Tiffany took my phone and looked. “Pretty. I wish I could get my hair that straight.” She handed back my phone. “Your daughter?”

  “No, did you see her here Friday night?”

  “No, but maybe Amber did.” Tiffany looked towards the kitchen door and as her twin sister exited, Tiffany waved her over. Mariel and I exchanged “We should have seen this coming.” glances. Tiffany pointed to my phone and said, “Amber, you recognize her?”

  Amber took my phone, handed it back and said, “Yeah, Friday night.”

  I asked, “Any idea what time they left?”

  Amber said, “Hang on,” and walked to the computerized cash register at the waitress station near our table. She pressed a few buttons, came back, and said, “They cashed out at 8:57 pm.”

  “How come you remember them?”

  “Her date tried to pay by credit card but Chuck, the manager, balked because the customer’s signature didn’t match the one on the card. Guy said he sprained his wrist fishing and paid cash. He must have been embarrassed because he left me a very nice tip.” She smiled.

  “Anything unusual happen?”

  Amber looked surprised by my question. “Yeah, and I just told you about it.”

  “I’m sorry, I meant like any conflict between the guy and his date?”

  Amber stuck out her lower lip. Then she raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “No, nothing. Just another happy couple on a date in paradise.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  We finished our drinks and caught the next water taxi home. When we got into the house, Mariel asked me, “Now, what will you do?”

  “Well, it was a nice ride but I didn’t get anything much from the restaurant. Whatever led to Fisher’s death must have taken place after they left. I’ll see what facts I can find online. What about you?”

  She reached for her computer tablet and said, “I’m going out to the pool to listen to the radio.” Mariel had an app she used to listen to talk radio programs from New York, California and Florida. I entered my office and sat down at the computer.

  The first place I looked was www.volusia.org where I clicked the link to the beach web cams. From there, I retrieved a list of the tides the night Drew Fisher died. Amber verified Brenda’s story that they left the restaurant at 9:00 p.m. and the M.E. told me the time of death was about 9:30. The tide table reported high tide that night at 9:46 pm. Roofies kick in after 20 to 30 minutes so Brenda’s story was starting to make sense. If drugged at or soon after dinner, she might have been in a stupor below decks while someone killed Fisher in the cockpit. The murderer could have escaped leaving the Amante to drift fifteen minutes or so until the incoming tide carried it into the navigation channel. It could have floated there all night until Floyd found it during his sunrise paddle.

  Next, I visited www.marinetraffic.com where I searched for the Amante. More than one ship had that name so I located the paper Senior Chief Forest gave me and searched for the boat’s MMSI number. I found the boat’s last known position at the Coast Guard dock in New Smyrna Beach. Before docking there, it docked at the Coronado Yacht Club and before that the East End Yacht Club on Long Island in New York State. I decided to see what the New York folks knew about the dead man. I got the phone number from their web site and dialed.

  “East End Yacht Club, This is Douglas. How may help you?”

  “This is Commodore McCarthy at the Coronado Yacht Club. We have a Drew Fisher applying for membership and he listed your club on his appli
cation.”

  “Caller ID says Max Fried.”

  “Um, we’re having a membership committee meeting at the Fried compound.”

  “I see. Are you asking about Drew Fisher from the Amante?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would he list us? He wasn’t a member here, just a guest.”

  Mariel entered the room and said, “Max?” loud enough for Douglas to hear.

  “You sure you’re the commodore?” he asked

  I said, “Max isn’t here Miss, look on the deck.” Then I asked Douglas, “But you know him?”

  “Look, Admiral, I don’t care who you are. If you’re calling about Fisher, I want everybody to know about this guy. He showed up a few months ago and spent his time drinking and chasing married women. A couple of the husbands didn’t like that.”

  “A couple? You mean some did like it?”

  “Nah, I mean only a couple found out about it.”

  “Oh, so why didn’t you give him the boot?”

  “Couldn’t, one of the board members invested money with this jerk and wanted to keep his eye on him plus Fisher’s ladies kept his slip rental fees up to date.”

  “You couldn’t declare him undesirable?”

  “You kidding? If we had a morals clause in our contract, we’d have no members. At least the other guys only chase the single women. We have plenty of content ladies here.”

  “Any idea why Fisher left when he did?”

  “No, but I’m glad. I thought he’d never leave.”

  “Who’s the guy who invested with him?”

  “Bucky Vanderbilt.”

  “Bucky?”

  “Yeah, one thing I learned here. The richer the member, the goofier the nickname.”

  “Do you know how I can reach him?”

  “He’s one of those boating snowbirds. If he’s not in Florida by now, he’s probably due in the next day or so.”

  “What’s the name of his boat?”

  “Not a boat, a ship and a big one at that. He calls it the DeepSea Doodle. Hey, do you know if the Coronado has any job openings? These New York winters are killing me.”