“Also out of Fort Lauderdale,” Jesse said.
“Oh, sure, that’s right. Of course. That’s why you’re asking. The Fort Lauderdale connection.”
“You think he might know Florence Horvath?” Jesse said.
“I just have no way to know, Chief . . . ?” Ralston looked at the nameplate on Jesse’s desk. “Jesse Stone, is it?”
Jesse nodded.
“I don’t know who Harrison Darnell knows or what he does.”
“What might he do?” Jesse said.
“I just told you I don’t know,” Ralston said. “I’m trying to be cooperative, Chief, but you seem hostile.”
Jesse nodded.
“Know anyone named Cathleen Holton?” Jesse said.
“No.”
“How about Corliss or Claudia Plum?”
“No. Who the hell are these people?”
“Mandy Morello?” Jesse said.
“No, for crissake, Chief. What’s going on here? You think I did something?”
“No,” Jesse said. “Just running through the list.”
“Well, no offense, but I’m getting tired of it. Can I leave?”
“Sure,” Jesse said. “Thanks for coming in.”
1 7 6
37
K elly Cruz was in the manager’s office at the marina near the Boat Club. The manager was appropriately windblown and sun-
tanned, wearing a marina staff polo shirt and khaki shorts.
There was, Kelly Cruz noticed, a cute tattoo on his left calf.
Kelly Cruz liked tattoos in discreet moderation.
“Wow,” the manager said. “You’re pretty good-looking, for a cop.”
“I’m pretty good-looking for a person,” Kelly Cruz said.
“My name’s Kelly Cruz.”
“Bob,” the manager said.
“Do you have assigned mooring here, Bob?”
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“Sure,” the manager said. “Otherwise it’d be a free-for-all when they came in.”
“So you got a record of the mooring locations,” Kelly Cruz said.
“Course.”
The manager had thick black hair, cut short. His forearms and hands looked strong. He was wearing a nice aftershave.
“May I see them?”
“You bet,” the manager said. “Come around, we got it all on computer.”
Kelly Cruz stood beside him while he punched up the listings.
“Lookin’ for anybody special?” he said.
“Thomas Ralston.”
The manager scrolled down.
“Here we go, he owns
“How about Harrison Darnell?”
The manager scrolled again.
“He should be 8A or 12A. I remember . . . yeah, 12A . . .
I remember they made a point of insisting on side-by-side moorings.”
“They registered together?”
“We don’t call it registered, Kelly. But yeah. They came in a year, year and a half ago, said they wanted to be far out, and they had to be side by side.”
“Do you know either of these gentlemen, Bob?”
“Nope. Just saw them when they contracted the moorings.”
