A False Dawn

FIFTY-THREE

More than two hours into the drive back to the marina, I remembered that I’d shut off my cell phone before I met with Sandra. I saw that I had three missed calls. The first two were from Leslie. I didn’t recognize the third number. I played my voice-mail.

“Sean, I talked with Irena Cliff,” Leslie began. “The poor woman called Robin a sweet child, her ‘happy baby.’ She asked me to bring her back home. Then she spoke about her in the past tense, like she suspects her daughter isn’t coming back. Said Robin stopped calling, which is a red flag because she always called, at least twice a week.”

I punched the phone’s speaker button, glanced in my rearview mirror, and continued listening to Leslie’s message.

“No other immediate family. Father dead. No siblings.” She paused and sighed. “We, of course, have no body. If it’s Slater, he knows damn well how to cover his tracks. The club in Miami where Robin worked before coming to Daytona, it’s called Xanadu. The mother said her daughter, Robin, was terrified of her ex-boss, guy named Santana, Miguel Santana. She told her mother this guy raped her the day he fired her. She got out of town and took a job far enough away where she felt like she was out of this Santana’s business circle. Robin told her mother that she was scared. When she was with Tony Martin, one night when he had too much to drink, he’d confided in her, telling her that Santana was trying to cut in on Martin’s action. Said this Santana even wanted to buy Club Platinum. Martin refused. Robin was afraid Santana would retaliate for something she did while working for him. She wasn’t specific with her mother, but Robin told her that she thought Santana was dealing in everything from drugs to prostitution at a high level. Santana and Xanadu, sound like real winners. Later, Sean, ‘bye.”

I remembered the club. Catered to high rollers, sports figures, rock stars, B-list actors, and businessmen with nondisclosure expense accounts. I hit the speed dial, and Ron answered on the first ring. I filled him in on my interview with Sandra Duperre.

He said, “You’d think, after all this time, she’d reclaim a life.”

“She did, for a while, but these wounds seem to get the stitches popped at all the wrong times. What can you tell me about Club Xanadu and a guy that runs the place, Miguel Santana?”

“One of the managers and a bartender were busted for trafficking in cocaine and prostitution. These guys are like cockroaches. I heard the owner, Santana, is mostly an absentee proprietor. Doesn’t get his hands dirty.”

“Maybe he’s got a speck of dirt under his fingernails that he just can’t wash way.”

“Sounds like you’re back, pal.”

“No, but I’ll be back in Miami.” I heard the beep of an incoming call. “Ron, I need to take this. See you in a couple of days.” I pressed the button and said, “Hi, I got your voice-mail. It looks like the mother’s instinct is corroborating your gut feeling.”

Leslie said, “Unfortunately, but without a body we only have a missing person, although this missing person was involved with a club owner who was murdered.”

I told Leslie about the sycamore leaves I’d left with Dan for testing, my Jacksonville trip, and my pending Miami trip.

She said, “I got a voice-mail call from the M.E. He has a prelim tox report waiting for me on the latest vic’s hair. He found blood, a trace amount, on a single strand from the back of the head. His message said the blood didn’t come from the vic.”

The sun was setting when I pulled the Jeep into the marina parking lot. I unloaded groceries and started for Jupiter. Nick’s boat was back in the slip. I could see him using a hose with a high-pressure nozzle to wash down the St. Michaels. When I approached, he looked my way, grinning. “Got some beer in those bags?”

“I do.”

Inside the cockpit I switched on the air conditioner, tossed the perishables in the refrigerator while Nick plopped at the bar. I found a lime, sliced it, put a slice inside the two bottles of beer, and set one in front of Nick. “Welcome back. How’d you do?”

“We did good, man. Mackerel were running. Sold three hundred pounds. I’ll keep back some for the grill.”

“Good to see you, Nick. It’s been a little tense here.”

“I heard on the TV about this last dead girl. Is that part of the crazy shit you’re in?”

“It looks that way.”

Nick tilted up the bottle and took three long swallows. “You don’t need that. Somebody gotta feed this crazy shit to the crabs.”

“Let’s hope you get called for jury duty.”

“They don’t want me on the jury. I find them all guilty. Where’s hot dog?”

“Home, back on the river. My neighbor is watching her and the place. I’ve got to go to Miami for a couple of days. Could you keep an eye on my boat?”

“Sure, man. Anybody come near it, I’ll shoot ‘em!” He laughed

“Be careful. These people shoot back.”

An hour and a six-pack later, Nick had gone back to his boat to shower and get ready to meet his latest girlfriend. I’d stripped down to my shorts and was about to climb in the shower when Leslie called. “Are you ready for this?”

I never like conversations that start that way. “What do you have?”

“The tox report on the blood has me scratching my head.”

“What’s it say?

“Says the blood came from an alligator. An alligator certainly didn’t slice her up unless the gator had training in surgery. So where would the vic have been to get alligator blood in her hair?”

“Could be a wild card, but I have a possibility.”

“Can you tell me about it over dinner, maybe in an hour? I’d like to rinse some of the past twelve hours off me.”

“See you then.”

I started to hang up when I heard her say, “Sean, I missed you today. And please don’t take that the wrong way. I just really enjoy your company.”

“Then your expectations aren’t very high.”

I could almost see her smile through the phone. She laughed. “When this whole thing is over, maybe we can go away together for a long weekend. Let’s find a place where there are lots of tropical flowers, a turquoise sea, and gentle people with genuine smiles. Do you know a place like that?”

“I know a place like that.”