The Deep Blue Alibi

'Exactly. But then, boom. The lights go out.'

'Meaning what?'

'I don't know. My next memory is being down on the deck, my head split open, drifting in and out.

Maybe someone up on the fly bridge whacked me across the skull as I came up the ladder.'

Oh, shit. The phantom strikes. Twice. First in the salon, then on the bridge.

'Next thing I know, I'm on the beach with a stomping headache, and here comes the Princess, looking just like her mother all those years ago.' He turned toward Victoria. 'How is The Queen, anyway?'

'Before you two catch up on old times,' Steve interrupted, 'did you tell that story to the police?'

'What do you mean by 'story,' Solomon?'

'Nothing. Just asking if you gave a statement.'

'Don't bullshit me, kid. Spit it out.'

Steve took a breath, fired away. 'What you just told us, it's the worst story I ever heard. Worse than Scott Peterson's phone calls to Amber Frey.'

'Steve,' Victoria said. Her warning tone. 'You're not talking to some thug in the lockup.'

He ignored her, cut to the heart of it. 'There are only two of you on the boat in the middle of the Gulf, right?'

'Yeah.'

'So who speared Stubbs?'

Griffin's eyes narrowed. 'When Stubbs comes to, ask him.'

'And if he doesn't come to?'

That stopped Griffin a moment. Then he said: 'My theory is, someone stowed away below before we left my dock.'

'Like in that book by Joseph Conrad,' Victoria said.

'What book?' Steve asked. Just what's Miss Princeton summa cum laude talking about now? In college, Steve had read the Cliffs Notes of Heart of Darkness, but he didn't remember any stowaway.

'The Secret Sharer,' Victoria continued. 'A ship captain hides a stowaway who's accused of killing another seaman. The captain sails close to shore and lets the stowaway swim to safety.'

'And when the boat crashed on Sunset Key,' Steve said, 'what happened to this secret sharer fellow?'

'I don't know,' Victoria said. 'It's just an idea.'

'I don't know either,' Griffin said. 'And I didn't give a statement to the police. You think I'm a damn fool, Solomon?'

'No. I pity the man who takes you for one. Or who crosses you.'

'Steve, please.' A command, not a request. 'Uncle Grif, I'm sorry. Steve can be abrasive sometimes.'

'No problem, Princess. I like this punk.'

'You do?' She sounded stunned.

'Most lawyers stick their tongues so far up my butt, it tickles my nose. Sorry, Princess. Your mother used to say I was uncouth. Not like your father. All polished fingernails and luncheon clubs. Of course, if Nelson had begun life spreading hot tar on roofs, his hands might not have been so clean.' Griffin turned back to Steve and showed a crooked smile. 'I told the cops my head hurt, and I'd talk to them later. I do good, Counselor?'

'Real good. Not a word to the cops until we hear what Stubbs has to say. Then we'll draft a statement for you. Assuming you want us to represent you.'

'We'll see. Give me a game plan.'

'We have to prepare for the worst. Stubbs comes to and says the two of you argued, and you speared him like an olive with a toothpick. We get a doctor who'll say that after losing all that blood, Stubbs is hallucinating.'

Griffin winked at Victoria. 'I like the way this punk thinks.'

'So who knocked Uncle Grif unconscious?' Victoria said.

'The same guy who shot Stubbs,' Steve answered.

'And that would be …?'

'Jeez, we've been here ten minutes. Give me a chance to come up with our one-armed man.'

'Steve, you can't just spin stories out of thin air,' Victoria said.

'Sure I can. It's one of Solomon's Laws.'

'What laws are those?'

'Steve makes them up as he goes along.' Victoria pursed her lips, showing her displeasure. ' 'If the law doesn't work, work the law.' That sort of thing.'

' 'If the facts don't fit the law,' ' Steve said cheerfully, ' 'bend the facts.' That's another one.'

'I like what I'm hearing.' Griffin seemed to be enjoying himself, despite his injuries. 'What else, Solomon?'

'I want to be there when the cops question Stubbs. Or better yet, question him first.'

'It'll never happen,' Victoria said. 'The police won't let you near him.'

'There are ways,' Steve said.

'Don't even think about it.'

'What's going on?' Griffin asked.

'Steve likes to crash parties. Once, he faked a heart attack to get into an ER.'

'It wasn't a big deal,' Steve said, 'until I got the bill for my angiogram.'

Griffin coughed up a laugh. 'You're an asshole, Solomon.'

'Yeah?'

'But my kind of asshole.' He turned to Victoria. 'Princess, you did real good hooking up with this guy. You're hired. Both of you.'

Three

INTENSIVE CARE

How could this be happening?

Steve taking over as if they were still partners and he was numero uno.

How did I let this happen again?

Victoria had intended to split up the firm, and here was Steve poaching her client. Winning over Uncle Grif with all that macho crap.

Steve excused himself, saying he'd give the two of them a little time together, then catch up with Victoria in the hospital lobby.

Victoria waited until the door closed behind him, making certain the deputy in the corridor couldn't hear her. Maybe there was still a way to push Steve out, or at least into the second chair. 'Uncle Grif, what's the legal work you called me about? Does it have anything to do with Stubbs?'

'My son will give you all the answers. You remember Junior, don't you, Princess?'

'You don't forget the first boy who kissed you.'

Griffin nodded. 'Junior's done nothing but talk about you since I told him we were getting together. Your father always said our lives always would be intertwined, our families connected. Nelson even thought you and Junior might end up together.' His eyes seemed to focus on a distant memory. 'It's a damn strange world, Princess, but the older I get, the more I believe in destiny. Like some things are just meant to be.'

The man in the white lab coat with the stethoscope draped around his neck hurried through the swinging door of the ICU, nodded to an attendant at the nurses' station, and kept moving at a brisk pace.

Always keep moving. Act confident. Look like you belong.

Steve's rules for trespassing. He'd once confessed to a fictional crime to get access to a police station holding cell. Another time, he'd crashed corporate offices in an exterminator's uniform and sprayed the baseboards with insecticide. He'd even picked up a personal injury client by pretending to be a paramedic.