Chapter 31
Frank poked his head out of the salon a moment later.
I flashed a disarming smile and waved.
He waved me aboard, and I climbed into the cockpit and followed him down into the salon.
The boat had a standard layout with a galley to starboard, a settee to port, and a forward salon. The boat had an in-line forward cabin and a day head, along with an aft berth under the cockpit.
"Thanks for taking the time to speak with me," I said.
"No problem. Don't get many visitors these days. Can I get you a beer?”
"No. Thank you. I’ve got a long ride back to Coconut Key.”
Frank ambled toward the mini fridge and pulled out a beer. He popped the top with a hiss and took a sip. He offered me a seat at the settee, and I obliged.
His face crinkled. “Now what's this I hear about Ray Corbin still being alive?”
I gave him the full story, even though I had given it to him earlier on the phone.
"You're sure about this?”
"The prints match," I said.
"How do you explain that?"
I shrugged.
He frowned and shook his head. "That was the last case I worked before I retired.
I would have loved to nail that son-of-a-bitch.
But I figured he got what he deserved in that car crash.
Now you're telling me he had 15 good years after that?
" He shook his head again in dismay. "That just doesn't sit well with me.”
"I understand." I paused, then asked, "Are you sure Ray was the guy?"
"Is the sky blue?”
"No DNA or fingerprints were ever recovered from any of the victims," I said.
"We've got eyewitness testimony from a survivor. What more do you need? Ray had a prior charge of sexual assault. He fit the profile.”
"That prior sexual assault charge was dismissed. The girl recanted."
Frank didn't like that. "Who knows why she recanted?
Maybe Ray intimidated her. Maybe she didn't want to get dragged through a trial and go through the publicity of it all.” His face grew red.
“It's not an easy thing for a victim to go through. Some people would just rather keep their mouths shut.” Frank went silent for a moment.
"You know, you're not the first person that's talked to me about this.”
I lifted a curious eyebrow.
"A journalist came by a few months ago. Was saying the same thing you're saying.
I dismissed it out of hand. He was trying to tell me that he thought Ray was still alive.
Just sounded like nonsense at the time." Frank sighed. "I have to admit, there were a few things that bothered me about the way Ray died. At that point in time, there was no way to pull DNA from the corpse. It was too badly burned. They were able to get a dental impression, but Ray was missing a few teeth. It had been a couple of months between the time he assaulted Jenna Keating and the accident. It’s possible he lost a tooth in a bar fight or something like that. But the odontologist said it was a match. That was good enough for me.”
"It's my understanding the odontologist is deceased.”
"Yeah, Garrett passed away about five years ago. Good guy. I didn't know him really well. But he had worked on a few of my cases. If you're right, I guess he was wrong.” Frank frowned. “I still don't see how it's possible.”
"He could have had help.”
Frank gave me a curious look. "You mean like WITSEC?”
I nodded.
Frank's brow knitted. "You know, that's the exact theory that the journalist was pushing. Said Ray was being looked after. Why the hell would he be in protection?”
"That's what I'm trying to find out.”
Frank took another sip.
"Did you have any other suspects at the time?”
Frank took a deep breath. "Not really. Ray was our obvious choice. I don't think we even considered anybody else."
"Who's the journalist?”
Frank took another deep breath. "Oh, what the hell was his name? Chris something. Johannesen," he said, snapping his fingers. "That's it.”
"Do you have contact information for him?”
"I'm sure it's in my phone somewhere. I can look it up for you if you like.”
"That would be great. When did you say you spoke to him?”
"Oh, I guess it was about a month or two ago.”
“Did Chris say what his next steps were?”
"Well, he came by the boat, and we talked for a few hours about it. He said he was trying to track down everyone who worked the case at the time. I'm not sure who all he talked to. I hate to say it, but most of us are dead. I think it's just me and Larry.”
"Larry?”
"Fitzgerald. We were partners at the time.”
"When was the last time you spoke to Larry?”
"It's been a few months. He’s living in Texas.
Wanted to be a rancher. He was having some trouble, went to the hospital.
I tried to keep in touch with him, but didn't hear much from him when he got out. I think his wife has her hands full taking care of him. You know how it is, life happens. I hope he’s okay.
I need to call him. I suppose he's still trucking along.”
"When was the last time you were in Coconut Key?" I asked.
Frank thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. It's been a long time. Don't have much reason to get down there. Everybody I know lives in Pineapple Bay. Sadly, most of them are dead now.”
"Still carrying a weapon?" I asked.
"You better believe it. If anything, crime’s gotten worse around here.”
"Smart. What’s your weapon of choice these days?”
"I still like my 9mm. But I’ve got a .38 and a .357 Magnum. Any one of those will get the job done. What about you?”
"I'm rocking a 9mm. But it’s like anything else. The right tool for the right job. Do you own a .22?”
His face twisted. "Why would I want a pee shooter like that?”
I shrugged.
Frank grew suspicious. "Ray Coleman… How was he killed?”
"I can't discuss details of an ongoing investigation. You understand.”
His face tightened. "You come all the way up here and ask me about a case, and you’re not willing to share details. Who am I gonna tell?”
"Ray was shot twice in the back of the head," I said.
"A professional hit. What caliber?”
"Ballistics hasn't come back yet.” I lied.
His eyes narrowed at me. "I find that hard to believe."
We stared at each other for a long moment.
His eyes narrowed at me. "I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing, Deputy, but I don't like it.
Don't think I don't know what you're getting at.
I may be retired, but I'm not stupid. That reporter comes to talk to me, tells me that Ray’s still alive.
Now you think I went down to Coconut Key and closed a case that should have been closed a long time ago. "
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. It's written all over your face.
" Frank leaned against the table. "You know what they say, Deputy.
.. The more you stir shit, the more it stinks.
Ray Corbin, Ray Coleman, whatever the fuck his name is, he's dead.
Good riddance. Who gives a shit? Somebody did the world a favor.
That guy was a Grade A scumbag. Be glad he's gone. "
I knew this next question wasn't going to earn me any brownie points. "You mind if I take a look around your boat?”
His eyes filled with hate. "Get the fuck off my boat. You got no right to search.”
"You're on the water. I've got the right to do a routine compliance inspection," I said, staring him down, holding my ground. I hated to ruffle his feathers, but I didn’t come up here to make a new friend. I came for the truth.
Anger swelled his face, reddening his cheeks. "I'm in compliance. I've got flares, paperwork, life preservers, and my fire extinguisher is up-to-date.” Frank stood up from the settee, produced the required items, and told me to get the hell out.
I didn't have the right to search the boat, only what was in plain view.
Nothing stood out to me.
I didn't see a .22 with a suppressor. A guy like Frank wouldn’t have kept that lying around the boat. He’d have gotten rid of it after the shooting, if he was responsible.
Needless to say, Frank didn't give me Chris Johannesen’s contact information. But it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.
On the way back to the parking lot, I called Isabella. "I need another favor.”