CHAPTER EIGHT #2
The color drained from his face, but he clamped his jaw tight. He uncrossed his arms and put his hands on the table. “I go out at night sometimes,” he said. “That’s not a crime.”
“No, it’s not. But you said you weren’t near the harbor the night Eddie died, when you clearly were.”
“So I got the night mixed up.” He shook his head, looking resentful. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is a man died on the water that same night, and you were out there on the water for four hours. I need to understand what you were doing.”
Craig’s jaw worked. He looked at the table, then at the wall, then back at me. “I was just enjoying a night out on the sea.”
I struggled not to laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yep. It was a nice night, and I needed some fresh air.”
“Whose boat did you use?”
“It was one of the community boats.” He chewed at a hangnail, avoiding my gaze. “I told Ray I was taking it out.”
“Did you?” I studied him and got the feeling maybe he was lying. Surely he knew I’d check. “You know, I’ll ask Ray about that, right?”
He looked uneasy. “Oh, yeah, maybe I forgot to tell him that time. Sometimes I forget.”
You sure you just didn’t want anyone knowing you were taking the boat out, Craig?
“And Ray doesn’t mind that you take the boat out without telling him?” I asked skeptically. That was complete bullshit. Ray was a very organized guy. No way in hell he was cool with people using the boats and not telling him.
“Sure.”
I laughed gruffly. “I find that really hard to believe.”
He bristled. “You calling me a liar?”
“No, I just find it hard to believe Ray doesn’t care if people use the boats without telling him.” I paused. “But it’s no biggie. It’ll all get cleared up when I ask Ray.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, going back to attacking his hangnail.
“So you took the boat out just to get some fresh air, that’s your statement?” I smiled politely.
“That’s right. I went out because it was a nice night. You should try it sometime. Maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight.” He looked smug, as if he thought he’d really pulled one over on me.
I watched him for a bit, formulating how I wanted to drop the other bomb on him about what Lena overheard him saying. I clasped my hands on the tabletop and met his surly gaze. “And you just happened to go out on the night Eddie Salcedo died.”
“What of it?”
I leaned forward. “Because I have a credible witness who overheard you saying you were going to kill Eddie for sleeping with your wife.”
This time he looked rattled. His eyes widened, and he sat forward, face red. “What?”
“I have a credible witness—”
“They’re lying,” he snarled, starting to stand.
“Sit down, Craig,” I said, standing to meet him. The man had six inches and probably sixty pounds on me, and I had no illusions about how that would go if it got physical. But we were in my station, on camera, and Craig knew that. After a tense few seconds, he dropped back into his chair.
I sat back down slowly, keeping my eyes on him. The room was quiet except for the hum of the fluorescent light overhead. Craig was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, but he stayed in his chair. The fight had gone out of him, at least physically. What replaced it was something closer to panic.
“Nobody is lying, Craig.” I kept my voice level.
“You were seen on security footage taking a boat out the night Eddie died. And a credible witness heard you threaten to kill Eddie Salcedo. Those are facts. Now you can keep telling me you went out for fresh air on a nice night, or you can tell me the truth. But I want you to think very carefully about which one of those options is going to help you more right now.”
He stared at the table. His massive hands were flat on the surface now, fingers spread, like he was trying to hold himself steady. The bravado that had walked through the door with him was gone. What was left was a big, angry man who was starting to realize how much trouble he was in.
“I didn’t kill Eddie,” he said. His voice was lower now, rougher. Less defiant, more desperate.
“Then tell me what really happened that night. Because right now, Craig, what I’ve got doesn’t look good for you. You threatened to kill a man, and that man ended up dead on the same night you were out on the water. If you’ve got a different story, now is the time to tell it.”
He was quiet for a long time. Long enough that I started to wonder if he was going to lawyer up, which would have been the smart move. But Craig Barlow wasn’t a smart-move kind of guy. He was the kind of guy who thought he could muscle his way through anything.
“Fine,” he hissed. “I’ll tell you why I was out on the fucking ocean that night.”
“Please do.”
“Tess told me she was sleeping with Eddie.” The words came out harsh.
“You’re sure she said Eddie?” I asked emotionlessly.
“Of course I’m sure. I have ears.” He wiped his face tiredly.
“I caught her sneaking in late one night, and she smelled like sex, and it was so fucking obvious she’d been fucked.
I told her I was going to rip the head off the motherfucker she was cheating with.
” His lip trembled, anger burning in his eyes.
“I grabbed her and forced her to tell me who it was. She started crying, and she confessed she was seeing Eddie.”
Spencer had seemed so sure Tess was sleeping with Gil. Now Craig was saying it was Eddie. That was also what Lena had overheard him say in her coffeehouse. Had Spencer got that wrong? Or was Tess sleeping with both men?
“I couldn’t believe my ears.” Craig’s jaw clenched. “She said she was sorry, but that she and Eddie had been having sex. I wanted to put my fist through the wall. I almost did. Eddie Salcedo, who everyone thought was such a great fucking guy. A family man. And he was screwing my wife.”
“What did you do after she told you?”
“I lost it. Not at her. I didn’t touch her. But I was out of my mind. I went to the Anchor and had a few drinks, and yeah, I said some shit to people I shouldn’t have said. I was angry. Wouldn’t you be?”
“And the night Eddie died, what happened?”
Craig rubbed his face with both hands, dragging them down slowly.
“I heard through the grapevine that Eddie was going out alone that night on an overnight run. I figured I’d go find him on the water where nobody could see us.
I just wanted to confront him. Get in his face.
Let him know I knew what he’d been doing with my wife. ”
“You just wanted to talk to him.”
“I wanted to beat the shit out of him,” Craig said, and the honesty of it was almost startling. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I wanted to have a calm conversation. I wanted to hurt him, like he hurt me. But I wanted to hurt him, not kill him. There’s a difference.”
“Okay. So you took the skiff out. Then what?”
“I went looking for him where he usually fished. I figured he’d be out past the headlands, working his pots.
That’s where most guys run overnight. But I couldn’t find him.
It was dark, the fog was rolling in, and I was in a shit little skiff with no radar, no GPS, nothing.
I went up and down the coast for hours. I never found the Pacific Lady.
I never saw Eddie.” He met my eyes. “I came back around one in the morning. Cold, pissed off, and empty-handed. That’s the truth. ”
“Why couldn’t you find him?”
“Why? How the fuck do I know? He wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Or maybe the fog hid him. It was dark as hell out there. I could barely see twenty feet in front of me.”
“And you expect me to believe that you went out there wanting to beat a man senseless, couldn’t find him, and just came home?” I narrowed my eyes. “But that same man turned up dead the next morning.”
“I know how it sounds.” His voice cracked slightly.
“But that’s what happened. I never found Eddie.
I never touched him. When I heard he was dead the next morning, I was.
..” He trailed off, staring at the wall.
“I wasn’t sorry. I’ll be honest about that.
The man was sleeping with my wife. He deserved what he got, but I didn’t kill him. ”
“But you’re glad Eddie is dead?”
Something ugly flickered across his face. “I’m not going to cry about it. I told you, he got what he deserved.”
I studied him for a long moment. Craig Barlow had motive, opportunity, and a witnessed threat against the victim.
I’d bet money there were more witnesses down at the Anchor, not just Lena.
He was on the water during the window when Eddie was killed.
He admitted he wanted to hurt Eddie. He admitted he went looking for him.
On paper, Craig was the best suspect I had.
But something about his story nagged at me.
Not the content, but the way he told it.
Craig wasn’t a sophisticated liar. His first instinct had been to bullshit me with the fresh-air story, and he’d been terrible at it.
When he finally told the truth, it came out raw and unpolished, full of details a smarter man would’ve left out.
He admitted he wanted to beat Eddie. He admitted he was glad Eddie was dead.
A guilty man trying to cover a murder probably wouldn’t say those things.
Then again, maybe Craig was counting on me thinking exactly that.
“I’m going to need you to stay available,” I said. “Don’t leave town. If I need to talk to you again, I expect you to come in willingly, like you did today.”
His eyes widened. “Am I a suspect?”
“You’re a person of interest in an active investigation. That’s all I’m prepared to say right now.”
“Person of interest,” he repeated, his voice hollow. “Jesus Christ.”
“Go home, Craig. We’ll be in touch.”
He stood slowly, like a man who’d just been punched in the gut. At the door, he turned back. “I didn’t kill Eddie Salcedo. I swear to God.”
“Noted,” I said.