“It’s a better possibility than I want to think about,” Harry said.
“I think we ought to let Barney Noble know we know she’s missing,” Holly said.
“What? You’re going to call him up and ask if he’s got our agent?”
Holly got out her notebook, looked up the number for Palmetto Gardens and dialed it. “Security office,” she said to the operator.
“Security,” a man’s voice said.
“Barney Noble,” Holly said.
A moment later, Barney came on the line.
“Barney, it’s Holly Barker. How are you?”
“Pretty good, Holly. What’s up? I was just on my way home to dinner.”
“Barney, we just had a call from a Mrs. Garcia, whose daughter works out there as a domestic. The girl didn’t come home after work, and she’s worried. You folks heard anything about her?”
“Hang on, I’ll check,” Barney said. He didn’t cover the phone. “One of you guys hand me the checkout roster for the service gate,” he said. There was a shuffling of paper. “Here we go,” he said. “Is she Rita Garcia?”
“That’s the one.”
“She checked out at the service gate with the other cleaning women just after three o’clock this afternoon.”
“Do you check them out one by one?”
“Yeah, we do a body search to be sure they haven’t lifted anything from one of the houses, and then they’re checked off the list. She left, all right—no doubt about it.”
“Okay, Barney. Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Would you call me if she doesn’t show up for work tomorrow morning?”
“Be glad to. I’ll alert the man on the gate to look for her.”
“Thanks. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Holly hung up. “He says she checked out just after three this afternoon.”
“Sure, she did,” Harry said. “I’ve got another reason for a search warrant now. Jackson, can I use your office phone? I want to call a judge of my acquaintance.”
“Sure, help yourself.”
Harry disappeared into Jackson’s office and closed the door behind him.
“Ham,” Holly said, “what the fuck do you mean going into that place?”
Ham shrugged and grinned.
“Those guys could have
“No, they couldn’t,” Ham replied. “They don’t have anybody could take me.”
Holly rolled her eyes and sighed.
Harry came back. “The judge is thinking about it,” he said. “He’ll call me back later.”
“If we’re going in there, we’re going to need a lot more help,” Holly pointed out.
“Yeah, but I can’t request the manpower until I’ve got a search warrant.”
“Jesus, Harry, if Rita is missing and presumed in there, what more does the judge need?”
“I think he just wants to see if she turns up on her own. He knows what a big effort this would be, and he wants to be sure his warrant stands up on appeal.”
“So what do we do now?” Holly asked.
“We wait,” Harry replied.
CHAPTER
Holly got out of bed and looked at the clock: just after one A.M.
“What?” Jackson mumbled.
“Go back to sleep, baby,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. She got into a robe and padded down the hall to the guest room where Harry Crisp was sleeping.
Harry’s light was on, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Was that call what I hope it wasn’t?”
“I’m afraid so. Some mullet fishermen found the car up next to the north bridge. They’re trying to get it out now.”
“Give me five minutes,” Harry said, heading for the bathroom.
Holly got dressed quickly and met Harry downstairs. On the way, Harry was quiet. At the north end of the island Holly headed for the bridge, but turned off the road before reaching it, into a roadside park with a few picnic tables and a boat ramp. Two police cars were parked beside the ramp, their headlights illuminating the area, and a large wrecker had backed down it to the water’s edge. A man in a diving suit emerged from the water.
“Okay!” he yelled. “It’s hooked on.” He came and stood next to Holly while the wrecker winched the car up the ramp. “Looks like somebody just drove it right down the ramp,” he said. “It was only a couple of feet underwater.”
The car came backing out of the river. When it was securely on the ramp, the wrecker drove forward a few yards until the car rested on dry ground. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it, except that it was wet.
Holly and Harry looked inside the car, opened the doors, checked the backseat. Holly took the keys from the ignition. “Let’s have a look at the trunk,” she said. She walked to the rear of the car, found the right key, and unlocked the trunk. “Oh, Jesus,” she said.
Harry stood next to her. “The bastards!” he said.
Rita’s naked body lay on top of the spare tire. Her gun, her ID and her cell phone were scattered around her.
Harry took out his phone and punched in a number. “This is Crisp,” he said. “Who’s the duty officer? Put me through to him…. Warren, it’s Harry Crisp,” he said. “I’ve got a dead agent in Orchid Beach. It’s Rita Morales. I want you to get hold of the best pathologist in the Miami area and fly him up here immediately. He’ll be met at Orchid Beach Airport and brought to the local hospital. I want the most thorough possible postmortem.” He broke the connection.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” Holly said.
Harry began talking on the trip back, his voice low and sad. “She came over from Cuba on a raft when she was eight years old,” he said. “She nearly died of thirst before they were picked up by a pleasure boat and brought to Miami. Her mother did die, but her father made it. He’d been a lawyer in Havana before Castro. She got a law degree from the University of Virginia and joined the Bureau right out of school. She was first in her class at the academy. She was only twenty-six, but she was as smart an investigator as I’ve ever worked with. She had a real future with us. She was ambitious, and she wasn’t afraid to take chances. That could be what got her killed.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Harry,” Holly said quietly.
“I know it wasn’t, in my head,” he said, “but in my gut, I know it was.”
“She was qualified for the job. You trusted her judgment. In the circumstances, it was the right call.”
“I know it was,” Harry said. “But sometimes the right call can rise up and bite you on the ass. And it hurts like hell.”
Back at the house, Jackson scrambled them some eggs, and they ate disconsolately. It was just after nine
