Yolie let out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Other than that, I am crushing on him huge.”
She drove her cruiser, the Deacon riding shotgun. He sat there straight and solemn in his gray flannel suit, big hands flat on his thighs, gaze fixed straight ahead. Didn’t say one word until she turned off Old Shore Road onto Turkey Neck.
“Since when is this the way to Big Sister Island?”
“I just have to make a quick stop, Daddy. It won’t take long.”
The usual mob of news crews, paparazzi and gawkers were clustered outside the Tyrone Grantham estate. The through-traffic was at a standstill despite the presence of the trooper who was trying to move drivers along.
The Deacon watched him with keen-eyed disapproval. “Does that trooper actually believe he’s helping matters by standing in the middle of the road?”
“I don’t know, Daddy. Would you like to ask him?”
“No,” he said stiffly. “Just drive on if you can. Paying a call on Mr. Grantham?”
“His next door neighbor.” Des inched her way past the Grantham place and pulled into the driveway of Justy Bond’s waterfront home. Two cars were parked out front. She parked alongside them and shut off her engine. “Couple of questions I need to ask, okay?”
“Whatever you need to do, Desiree. I’ll wait right here.”
“You will not. You’re coming with me. You were a big help just now with Calvin.”
“Don’t patronize me, young lady.”
“I’m not. I would never do that. But you don’t seem to realize how much gravitas you bring to the table. Please join me, will you?”
He climbed out of the car, glowering at her. “ Now what are you grinning about?”
“This is epic, Daddy. I dreamt about this moment when I was a little girl but I never actually thought it would happen.”
“ What would?”
“You and me-we’re actually working a case together.”
“We’re not ‘working a case.’ You’re playing a hunch and making a supremely clumsy effort to pump up my ego. You’re not fooling me, you know.”
“Daddy, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I swear, sometimes you’re just like your mother.”
“Um, okay, is that good thing?”
Bonita was swimming laps in the pool, her stroke steady and strong, the water gleaming on her tanned flesh. A shirtless, broad-shouldered June was down on the dock buttoning up the Calliope for the rainstorm that was forecast for later that evening. The sky was definitely turning grayer.
When Bonita noticed them there, she swam to the shallow end and got out, looking trim, toned and fabulous in her white bikini. “How nice to see you again, Trooper Des,” she said with a complete absence of warmth.
“Bonita, this is my father, Deputy Superintendent Mitry.”
She raised a speculative eyebrow at him. “Pleased to meet you.”
He studied her curiously. “Don’t I know you from those commercials? You used to be the Bond Girl.”
Bonita let out a throaty laugh. “You have a good memory. It’s been a while since I retired. These days I’m what’s known in polite Dorset society as a trophy bimbo.” She fetched a beach towel and dabbed herself dry. “Justy’s not here, I’m afraid. He’s got a regional dealership pow-wow up in Hartford. Probably won’t come rolling home until after eleven.”
“Actually, we’re here to speak to June.”
“In that case you’re in luck.” Bonita glanced down toward the dock at him. “He’s like a mother hen with that boat of his, I swear.”
Des and the Deacon started their way across the lawn toward him. No more than a hundred feet separated the Calliope from the dock where Da Beast was moored, looking long, low and positively obscene in the water. Tyrone Grantham’s little strip of private beach was plainly visible from there, too. The very beach from where Kinitra had taken her near fatal swim late last night.
“Hey, Des,” June said brightly as he scampered fore and aft, securing the Calliope ’s lines.
“June, this is Deputy Superintendent Mitry. Also known as my father.”
“Glad to know you, sir. What can I do for you?”
“I understand you’ve been sleeping out here on the Calliope lately,” she said.
June’s eyes flicked across the lawn toward Bonita, who was now stretched out in a lounge chair. The Deacon followed his gaze, his own eyes narrowing fractionally. “Well, yeah,” June acknowledged. “Mitch… told you about that?”
“He told me you were prepping for an epic sea voyage. Wanted to get used to sleeping aboard.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m sailing her down to the Florida Keys.”
“June, there was an incident next door late last night. I wondered if you might have heard something.”
“I heard their party, if that’s what you mean. It sounded outrageous. Tons of people, great music. Did my dad call you and complain? Because they quieted down real fast at around eleven o’clock. I’m guessing that’s when you showed up.”
“You’re guessing right.”
“He was out of line, Des. The party wasn’t that loud. Besides, people have a right to enjoy themselves, don’t they?”
“I was interested in something that happened later on.”
June lowered his eyes, swallowing uncomfortably. “Later on?”
“Maybe two, three o’clock in the morning. It was a warm night. I’m guessing you had your hatch open. Wondered if you might have overheard an altercation between a man and a woman on the beach over there. Did you have the hatch open?”
“Yeah, I did,” he murmured.
“Were you on board alone?”
“Callie didn’t stay over. She was pulling an all-nighter at the studio.”
“You didn’t answer the question, son,” the Deacon pointed out. “She asked if you were alone.”
June reddened. “Yeah, I was alone.”
No wonder June was no good at selling cars. He was one sucky liar.
“And I think I did hear something going on over there-now that you mention it. A couple woke me up some time in the middle of the night. I don’t know when. But it didn’t sound like any altercation. More like they, you know, snuck away after the party and were getting busy on the beach.”
“Did you hear anything besides them getting busy?”
June frowned. “Yeah, I heard someone spashing around in the water. I think it was her. Yeah, it was definitely her. Because the guy called out to her.”
“How did he sound? Was he angry?”
“No, more like he was afraid she’d drown or something.” June’s eyes widened. “Did somebody drown?”
“Nobody drowned. Did you get a look at either of them?”
“No, I was below deck. Just woke up for a second and then went right back to sleep. I’d completely forgotten about it until you mentioned it.”
“June, do you remember if he called her by her name? Or used a term of endearment of any kind?”
June pondered this for a moment. “He called her ‘girl.’”
“Can you tell me anything about his voice?”
“Not really. Just that he sounded… black. Not that I’m trying to racially profile him or anything. It was just the impression I got.”
“Understood. Did you get any kind of impression in regards to his age? Was he young? Educated? Not so educated?”
“I really didn’t get any kind of read on that. Sorry.”
