Perilous Seas Page 8

  “Did they actually see him get on the boat?”

  “I ... what do you mean? They said he left with his family and got on the yacht.”

  “They said he left with his family,” Quinn clarified. “No one saw them get on the yacht because it was located at a dock about five miles away from the party location. On top of that, only those actually leaving on the yacht were transported to that location.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I made a few discreet inquiries via email when we got back from dinner last night. It was easy enough to track down.”

  “Well ... .” Rowan pursed her lips. “What do you think happened? I mean, you must have an idea.”

  “I don’t know exactly what happened,” he cautioned. “I believe that they’re lying about what went down on that ship, though. I’m starting to wonder if they only pretended they were going on a yacht ride and went home instead.”

  “How does that work? I mean ... you’re the one who pulled the survivors out of the water.”

  “Maybe it was all an act. Maybe something bad happened at home and they faked the rescue. I mean ... we were on our regular route. They might’ve paid someone to get information about where we would be and when.”

  “But ... you saw them,” Rowan protested. “They were sunburned and ragged. Their clothes were almost rags. They smelled as if they hadn’t showered in days. They were out of water and dehydrated.”

  “Yeah, that’s true.” Quinn stroked his chin. “The doctor did say they were dehydrated. However, none of them needed to be hospitalized after the fact. If they were really lost out there for two weeks floating around with limited water and food, you would think someone would’ve been close to death.”

  “You almost sound as if you wish one of them had been close to death.”

  “Yeah, well ... I don’t wish that on anyone,” he countered. “It’s just ... I think it’s very clear that Pat was close to home when he was killed. He couldn’t have been where the rest of them said he was. That means the whole story is suspect. Plus, I’ll bet you a hundred thousand dollars the Serendipity didn’t go down in the area they said it did. They’ll never find that yacht on the east side of the state.”

  “You don’t have a hundred thousand dollars now that you gave that check back.”

  “Do you think I should’ve taken it?”

  “No, and the reason I love you is because you’re the sort of man who wouldn’t take it. The fact of the matter is, though, none of this makes any sense. We know the family was on the east side of the state for the engagement party. Just because Pat’s hand was found on the west side of the state doesn’t mean they’re guilty.

  “Plus, either Mitchum or Patrice is living under a death omen now,” she continued. “I’m not sure which one of them it is, but I’m guessing that this isn’t over with yet. Whatever happened isn’t done playing out.”

  “No, it’s not. There’s nothing we can do about it, though. They’re not under our purview. We have no reason to stick our noses into this case.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to stop looking?”

  “I ... yes.”

  Rowan narrowed her eyes. “Seriously? You’re just going to stop investigating? That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “This isn’t my case.” He was firm. “It’s not your case either. We have more than enough on our plates.”

  “Yeah, but ... .”

  “No.” He shook his head. “We can only focus on one thing at a time. This isn’t our battle. If something happens to Mitchum or Patrice, it’s not our fault. They have to take care of themselves ... and since I think they’re hiding something, we would be putting ourselves at risk looking into their private business. This is a matter for the police. We have no control over what happens with them.”

  As loath as she was to admit it, Rowan recognized he was right. “Okay. I still think we could figure it out, though.”

  “Let’s focus on each other.”

  She brightened. “Good idea. I was thinking about going shopping today. We should do that together.”

  Quinn made a face. “Or you could do it with Sally and I could get caught up on paperwork. I still have quite a bit of it to file after the rescue. Believe it or not, we don’t have standard forms for what went down.”

  “Oh, well ... I think I can make that work.”

  He smiled. “Something told me you would say that.”

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THESE?”

  Rowan held up a pair of leather pants two hours later and waited for her best friend Sally Jenkins to look in her direction.

  Sally, who was the head chef on The Bounding Storm, managed to keep a straight face ... but just barely. “Those are ... interesting. Are you planning on taking up a hobby as a biker?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.” Rowan was prim as she draped the pants over her arm. “It turns out, Quinn has a motorcycle. We took a ride on it yesterday.”

  “Really?” Sally’s smirk was mischievous. “I didn’t know that. Where does he store it?”

  “Well, he was keeping it in a garage on the other side of town, but he moved it to one much closer so we can actually go on rides.”

  “And where did you go yesterday? Wait, let me guess.” Sally held up a hand to still her friend. “You guys went to a private place so you could sit in the shade and exclaim ‘no, you’re prettier’ to one another over and over again, right?”

  Rowan rolled her eyes. “No. We went to see my father.”

  Sally stilled. She knew the story of Rowan’s father, but only because the pretty photographer grudgingly told her during an argument months before. In truth, Rowan had been reticent about admitting her abilities to anyone other than Quinn. Since she genuinely loved Sally, though, she decided to take a chance. So far, it had worked out well. She was still leery, though.

  “Your father, huh?” Sally glanced around to make sure no one was within eavesdropping distance. “How did that go?”

  “Great until we found a hand on the beach.”

  “Right. I heard about that. Demarcus told me over breakfast.” Sally was thoughtful as she moved around the rack. “Why do you think his hand was found on the opposite side of the state from where his family said he disappeared?”

  Rowan shrugged. “I don’t know. Quinn and I spent the morning talking about that. He says it’s not our place to question their problems ... and I guess I agree with him. We have so many other things going on that we can’t deal with the Sterlings’ problems as well.”

  “No, but it’s a big mess. I bet it turns into a huge story the minute the news breaks. Although ... why do you think the story hasn’t broken yet?”

  “I don’t know.” Rowan shrugged as she moved to the next rack and pulled out a leather vest. “Quinn is convinced that Mitchum didn’t know about the hand. That’s why he tested him with the revelation.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think that Mitchum seemed genuinely surprised. The thing is, I don’t know if he was surprised that the hand had been found at all or surprised about where it had been found. I mean ... there’s every possibility he already knew his brother was dead and thought there was no way anyone would ever find a part of his body.”

  “And what’s his motive for being in on the murder of his brother?” Sally asked, her eyes sparkling. “By the way, I love that you’re becoming one of those conspiracy theory nuts. I happen to love a good conspiracy theory, too.”

  “I don’t know that he killed his brother. I just know that Patrice Sterling was in the limousine Mitchum had waiting for him in the parking lot and they got in a big fight. Something obviously was going on with that.”

  “Obviously,” Sally said dryly. “Maybe Patrice and Mitchum were having an affair and Mitchum killed his brother because he was sick of sharing the woman he loved.”

  “That’s very Melrose Place.”

  “Perhaps Patrice found out that Pat — huh, Patrice and Pat, I just noticed their names were t
he same — anyway, perhaps she figured out that Pat was having an affair and she killed him before he could leave and cause her a lot of embarrassment.”

  “That’s very Dynasty.”

  Sally snorted. “Maybe Mitchum honestly didn’t know that his brother’s hand was found on the beach and he’s now suspicious of everyone who was on that boat. He might’ve confronted Patrice about her very bad story.”

  “That’s very likely,” Rowan said. “I don’t know what to make of any of it. Quite frankly, the entire thing gives me a sour stomach. When you add on the fact that either Patrice or Mitchum is living with the omen hanging over their head ... I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat again.”

  Sally cocked an eyebrow. “The omen? Are you saying one of them is going to die?”

  “I took a photo this morning. I should’ve tried to get separate photos, but they were already too close and there was nothing I could do to separate them. One of them is most definitely in trouble.”

  “Huh. I wonder which one.”

  “I have no idea. Quinn says we need to mind our own business, and he’s serious. He says we have enough on our plates without worrying about them.”

  “He’s not wrong.” Sally plucked the leather pants and vest from Rowan’s arms. “You can’t wear these. You’ll look like a dominatrix. Besides, it’s ninety degrees here on a cool day. Do you have any idea how these things will smell after one use?”

  “I thought Quinn would like them.”

  “And I think he likes you no matter what. The leather is definitely a no-no.” Sally dragged Rowan from the shop, not stopping until they were two doors down and she was safely away from the temptation. “Now, if you want to buy something that will drive Quinn wild, may I suggest a visit to Victoria’s Secret?”

  Rowan’s cheeks colored. “Um ... no. There’s no way I’m going in there with you.”

  “Come on. It will be good for you. In fact ... .” She trailed off, her attention drifting to a spot down the way. It was an outdoor mall so she could see clear to the parking lot. That made it easy for her to catch sight of Vicky Chapman, who was cutting a swath through the mall as she made her way toward a waiting limousine. She had no less than four men following her, their arms laden with packages. “Huh.”

  Rowan followed her gaze and frowned. “Is that ... ?”

  “Vicky Chapman? Yeah, that’s her.”

  “She doesn’t exactly look as if she’s prostrate with grief, does she?” Rowan noted as the woman barked out an order to one of the men who followed her. “I’ve never known retail therapy to assuage grief.”

  “Never say never. Still ... that does look a little weird.”

  “Oh, do you think? We should get closer.” Rowan was resigned. “I want to hear what she’s saying. Twenty bucks says it’s not anything good.”

  “You’re on.”

  “THE COPS AREN’T SAYING a lot,” Fred announced as he sipped a beer in the shade of the tiki bar and fixed Quinn with a steady look. When the ship security guru called and asked for a sit-down, he was more than happy to acquiesce because he knew it would mean free drinks and a tropical view.

  “They have to be saying something,” Quinn pressed. Despite his admonishments to Rowan that they needed to mind their own business, he couldn’t stop himself from digging further into the mystery of Pat Sterling’s wandering hand.

  “Not a lot.”

  Quinn folded his arms over his chest and waited, eliciting a sigh from Fred.

  “Okay, maybe they’re saying something,” Fred hedged, taking a long pull on his beer before glancing around. “I’m not supposed to be sharing this information, though. My contact was very clear that they’re holding it close to their vests.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  “Didn’t you just let it slip to the missing man’s brother that his hand was found before the police approached him? Do you not think that information is going to get back to them?”

  Quinn cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. I simply wanted to see his reaction.”

  “And?”

  “And I don’t think he knew about the hand being found. He’s either a very good actor or was legitimately surprised.”

  “You don’t know what he was surprised about,” Fred pointed out. “He could’ve simply been surprised the hand was found. He might even now be packing up to run because he had a hand in his brother’s death and he figures the cops are onto him and that’s why they haven’t contacted him with the news.”

  “That seems like a bit of a stretch.”

  Fred snickered. “I guess. The thing is, when I tell you what my contact let slip, your imagination is going to run wild. I’m not sure I want that to happen. You have enough going on, what with keeping Rowan safe from the crazy foundation that’s trying to kidnap psychics.”

  Quinn stilled, surprised. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground and that’s the one thing everyone seems to say about the Phoenix Society. They’re bound and determined to reel in psychics.”

  “Well ... .” Quinn had no idea what to say.

  “Shh.” Fred pressed his finger to his lips to quiet his friend. “You haven’t told me a lot about what Rowan can do. You’ve been purposely cagey in some respects. I’m not an idiot, though. I’ve figured out what all of this means on my own.”

  “It’s not that we didn’t want to tell you.” Quinn looked pained. “It’s just ... I have to protect her no matter what. I won’t be able to live with myself otherwise. I trust you, but it’s her decision who she tells. I have to abide by her wishes.”

  “And that’s why I won’t say anything to her about knowing,” Fred said. “I’m going to tug a few strings. I think I’m getting close to some inside information. Digging up dirt on the Phoenix Society is difficult. Digging up dirt on the Sterlings, however, is easy.”

  Quinn was practically salivating. “Just tell me.”

  “Are you sure? I thought you wanted to steer clear of this mess.”

  “Tell me and shut up,” Quinn ordered, earning a grin from his friend.

  “First off, the Sterlings are in financial trouble. They drill for oil and build jets but, since the government has cut defense spending, they’re in serious trouble and have been unloading property all over the place ... including in Florida. They’ve even floated the idea of selling their precious compound, but they want way too much money for it. I don’t think it’s going to sell.”

  Quinn was officially intrigued. “Money is a great motivator when it comes to murder.”

  “It is,” Fred agreed. “I’m sure there are answers to be chased when it comes to the family’s finances. There’s also one other thing.”

  “Well, you can’t hold back on me now. Let me hear it.”

  “I know a woman in the medical examiner’s office.” Fred lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “The hand has been turned over to them and there are some ... interesting ... tidbits to be gleaned from the report.”

  “You’re dragging this out a long time,” Quinn noted. “It must be something really good.”

  “It’s ... interesting.” Fred dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. “So, the thing is, given the way the hand looked, the medical examiner is convinced that Pat Sterling was alive when his hand was cut off. If he wasn’t alive, then it was cut off within minutes of his death.”

  “And how can they determine that?”

  “Apparently it’s the state of the blood vessels or something, the way the blood clots.”

  “Okay, well ... that means that he was close to Tierra Verde when he was killed.”

  “That’s exactly what that means,” Fred confirmed. “The hand wasn’t in the water for more than a few hours. I think that means there was some sort of altercation, Pat was killed, and then his body was chopped up on the water before being dumped. Whoever did it probably thought sharks and other marine life would eat all the evidence ... and quickly.”


  “Then this hand washing up is going to make someone nervous.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I wonder who.”

  “That is the question of the hour.”

  9

  Nine

  When playing games as a child, Rowan often fancied herself a spy. She would sneak around her house with a magnifying glass — even though that was more of a detective thing — and try to catch her parents unaware. Her mother often found it annoying, especially when she was trying to cook dinner and Rowan impeded the process. Her father, though, found it amusing.

  For some reason, that’s what Rowan thought about as she hid in the shade by the ice cream stand and watched Vicky stand guard over an obscene amount of purchases.

  “Do you know anything about the Chapman family?” Rowan asked, her mind busy.

  Sally shrugged as she licked an ice cream cone. If she thought Rowan’s insistence on spying on the future Mrs. Ben Sterling was odd, she didn’t show it. “Just what I’ve read in the newspapers.”

  “That’s more than I know. Lay it on me.”

  “Well, I know she went to one of those hoity-toity private schools. You know the ones that require uniforms, right? Only the super-privileged can attend. The thing is, she went on an academic scholarship. Her parents did okay — I think the father was some kind of famous surgeon before he died and the mother inherited from her parents. They had money, but not Sterling money.”

  Rowan had to bite back a smile. Sally’s love of tabloid newspapers and television shows was finally going to benefit her.

  “Ben went to the same high school as Vicky, but they didn’t date at the time,” Sally continued. “He was considered something of a ladies’ man and she was known for being dedicated to her studies.”

  “But you only know a little bit,” Rowan teased.

  “Trust me. If I could know more, I totally would. I find the lifestyles of the rich and famous fascinating. Anyway, he went to the University of Florida and she went to a smaller school for college. They both graduated — although he took an extra two years to finish his degree and everyone kind of looked the other way about it.”