concern for Tammy’s well-being. She even thought about a line in a poem Mrs. Hargrave had kept shoving down their throats in high school, something by Coleridge or Keats or somebody like that which said: A savage place! as holy- arid enchanted/As e er beneath a waning moon was haunted/ By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
Maybe she was just jealous of Tammy; maybe she felt more vindictive about how the evening had gone than she wanted to admit. Maybe she was worse off than Cynthia in that way.“Bullshit,” she said aloud, alerting her “date” to her disquiet. Her fears were unfounded, she told herself. They didn’t compute. Tammy, like herself, had gone off with strangers met at bars before, so what was the big deal? Was it something her mother always said? That if it looks or sounds too good to be true, then it is too good to be true?
Judy continued to stare out at the boat as it slipped further into the distance. There was something about the boat which triggered her concern, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Earlier, when Tammy, Cynthia and she were idly playing with the swizzle sticks in their drinks, they’d seen the boat approach, and the sun’s final, shimmering rays had made it appear something out of a fairy tale. None of them had expected the man who got off that boat to come near them, but he had. He’d honed right in on them, on Tammy in particular, catching her up with his eyes, asking if he could buy them all a drink. But soon he had somehow maneuvered Tammy away from the other two.
Judy had watched the boat approach, had seen the name of the boat and had wondered about it, but she couldn’t recall it now. It had seemed odd to her, but then people named boats with words that spoke of very personal moments in their lives all the time, so the names of boats were often colorful, filled with innuendo or double entendre, like Money Pit or Reckless Nerve. Still, this one was just strange.
And there was something else nagging at Judy as she stood staring out at the boat in the twilight of the harbor lamps. Those thick black nylon ropes hanging over the bowsprit and at the stern seemed out of place, unnecessary bindings. Everyone nowadays used thick nylon ropes, but there was something odd about these lines.
“ How damned many lines do you need to secure a boat?” she asked herself aloud now while the boy beside her scrunched up his nose and raised his shoulders.
Todd Simon finally replied with a question, reminding her of his presence beside her. “What’re you talking about?’’ He continued to stand there, staring out at the distant lights of the boat with her, not knowing why.
It did seem odd to her. She knew a little about sailing, had taken a class years before, and these lines were in excess of what was normally used on a sailing vessel, although there were always innumerable lines. There was something else strange about the boat, too, something odd. Still, it was the several catch lines or ropes, thick nylon things dangling in the water, that stayed with Judy. Each line curled over the edge like a waiting serpent.
They couldn’t be anchor lines-not that many-and yet the ropes didn’t float or waft atop the water as one might expect rope to do if it’d simply been forgotten and left to dangle overboard. Even now, in the dark and in the distance, she could see the reflection of light off three distinctly different slick nylon ropes. Maybe it’s just where he stashes his beer, she thought; but he s got an entire galley below for that, she reminded herself, careful now not to ask Todd anything more. Each of the three lines she focused in on had some weight at the other end. Her curiosity remained unsatisfied. Foolish, she thought, being something of a sailor herself since she’d taken it up in college. Why intentionally create drag at the back of the boat that way?
Also below the reflecting light out over the bay, she could just make out Tammy’s silhouette pressed up against his. They were kissing, dancing, making out on the boat-so far just harmless petting. And since the boat was sitting still now out in the middle of the harbor, it didn’t appear that Patric was going to take Tammy too far off.
Tammy’s a big girl, she finally told herself. She can take care of herself.
“ I sure would like to dance,” said Todd Simon in her ear. “But a walk around the pier’s nice, too… I guess.”
“ You wanna dance?” she asked loudly, almost frightening her young suitor. “Then come on, we’ll dance.” She had to get her mind off Tammy and Patric, one way or another; her little fixation was only hurting herself. She hated Tammy more than just a little for having stolen her place beside Patric without the K. Forget it… forget her… forget him, she firmly admonished herself.
Still, the entire time she danced with the heir to the True Value in South Miami Beach, Judy thought about Tammy’s turn of luck with the accented Patric, who had deftly moved his huge sailing vessel from port within minutes. It was so beautiful, the kind of sailing vessel you dreamed of owning. It was trimmed with durable East Indian teakwood, that lovely golden-brown sheen all around, always looking as if just varnished.
And Patric’s eyes were so beautiful and alluring, and his voice so scrumptiously foreign, Australian perhaps, but more likely British, with a little cockney turn to it…
God, Tammy, she thought as she twirled about the pier to the sounds of Bob Marley’s inept imitators, you’re so freaking lucky, girl…
“ She actually saw the guy?” asked Quincey, amazed. “She and her friend both saw him and the boat he used?”
“ And spoke to him!” said Santiva.
Jessica was just reentering the room when Mark Samernow griped, “Why didn’t the dumb bitch report this information when it happened?”
“ She did,” said Jessica.
“ What? When?”
“ Why haven’t we heard about it sooner?”
The two detectives were clearly upset.
“ She filed a missing persons report,” Santiva informed them. “In Miami?”
“ Precinct 15 took her report over two weeks ago, but it somehow, through human error, did not get into the computer.” Jessica paced the room, adding, “She came back to check on progress about Tammy Sue’s disappearance. When Missing Persons realized what they had, they sent her over to us.”
Eriq exasperatedly added, “So even our attempt to compile and network with all existing information on the Night Crawler hasn’t been a hundred percent, gentlemen. Can we get some corroboration, on what Judy Templar says, out of this Cynthia? And how do we find her? And who’s this other eyewitness you spoke of?”
“ I’ve got all the notes on her, an Aeriel Monroe. I’m still putting a lot of my notes on-line myself,” confessed Samernow. “Siie may also go under the name of Lov- ette.”
“ Goddamn you, Mark!” shouted Quincey, losing control, kicking over his chair and smashing both his massive fists onto the table, causing the remote to hop twice. “You’ve fucked up once too often on this case.”
“ I’ll get the information to you, Agent Santiva. You’ll have it within the hour, on-line,” Samernow promised.
“ Meanwhile, see what you can do to relocate the girl who gave it to you.”
Quincey assured him that they would find her, then left the room ahead of his partner, the steam of rage still rising from his head. Before the door closed on the partners, Jessica heard Quincey say to Samernow, “You drop the ball on this one more time and we’re through, Mark. I find myself a new partner.”
Santiva heaved a sigh and frowned. “Let’s go down to see how Judy Templar’s doing with the sketch artist. What about this Cynthia, the girlfriend of the girlfriend? You think LeMonte might shake something additional from her?”
“ From what Judy tells me, no. Cynthia’s in worse shape over this thing than Judy, and she’s been unable even to speak to Judy about it.”
“ Sounds like her level of intoxication that night may’ve been way over the limit. Just the same…”
“ If Quince and Samernow can come up with the other witness-and near victim as he tells it-she could be a much more reliable source. If their stories match, then they’re both credible. Let’s give it time.”
Santiva nodded and made for the door while Jessica retrieved the taped session which had come to mean so much to them all. On the way downstairs in the elevator, Eriq asked Jessica, “How much store do you think we can put in Templar’s testimony?”
“ My gut reaction?”
He nodded.
“ A great deal. I think she’s sincere and very observant.”
“ What she said about the ropes hanging over the bow…” he mused, letting the words linger in the air
