She shrugged. “I’d die of boredom here if I weren’t interested.”
“Hey, did you want something to eat?” Jack asked her.
She turned slightly to see that one of the remaining kitchen workers was standing by her side.
“Mary, have you met Lorena yet?” Jack continued, speaking to the heavyset woman at his side.
Mary shook her head, then pointed across the room to where Harry was sitting, engaged in conversation with Sally.
“The boss said to check on you,” Mary said, looking at Lorena. “Usually people come up to the buffet. So are you hungry? You’d better eat now. We break down in half an hour, then there’s nothing except the vending machines until morning—unless you want to drive for an hour to find something open.” She shrugged. “You go into Miami, you got some places open twenty-four hours a day. But you want to drive back here in the middle of the night?” Mary shuddered. She’d been looking grim, but then she smiled. “You want some alligator?”
“Um, actually, no, thank you,” Lorena said. “Is there another choice?”
“There’s always chicken,” Michael offered, grinning at last.
“How about a salad?” Lorena asked. She wasn’t a vegetarian; she just didn’t think that at the moment she wanted meat of any sort. Especially crocodilian.
“Caesar?” Mary suggested.
“Lovely.”
“Of course, we do offer the caesar with a choice of chicken, sirloin or alligator,” Mary said.
“A plain caesar would be perfect,” Lorena said.
Mary shrugged, as if a plain caesar was probably the least appetizing thing in the world. “Something to drink?”
Lorena ordered iced tea and thanked Mary, assuring her that she would know to go to the buffet herself from then on.
When Mary was gone, Jack Pine nudged Lorena, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. “She’s all right, really. Just a bit grim.”
“She doesn’t like alligators at all,” Michael said.
“Why does she work out here?” Lorena asked.
“Harry pays well,” Michael said. He leaned forward suddenly. “The guys and I were going to head to the casino for a few hours. Want to come?”
“We’d love to have you,” Jack said.
“You look far too lovely to hang around here,” Hugh said, grinning.
If they were all leaving, this might well be her best chance to get into Michael’s laboratory. She yawned. “Actually, I’d love to take you guys up on that, but at a later date? I’m just getting accustomed to my new surroundings, and I’m feeling pretty tired.”
“You really should come,” Michael said, placing a hand over hers.
She smiled at him, as if enjoying the contact. “I will. Next time,” she said sweetly.
Mary arrived with her salad. The men remained politely waiting for her to eat, then rose together when she was done. Lorena said that she would walk them out to the parking lot, then head for her room.
The three men climbed into Jack Pine’s Range Rover, and she waved.
As soon as they were gone, she headed for the inner workings of the museum.
And Dr. Michael Preston’s lab.
Lars and Abe stood by Jesse on the embankment, watching as the M.E. bagged the remnants of Billy Ray.
At the moment, Jesse felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.
There was no one else who could go to see Ginny. This was going to be his responsibility, and with the Metro-Dade force on the scene, that meant he could go to her now.
But he hesitated, seeing the floodlights illuminate the immediate darkness and feeling the oppressive heat of the ebony beyond.
“I don’t believe it,” Lars said, staring in the direction of the M.E., shaking his head.
“I’m not quite sure I do, either,” Jesse said. He pointed. “The best I can figure it, Billy Ray was in his boat. His shotgun was still in it, and it had been fired. It looks as if an alligator actually rammed the boat, Billy fell out, and…well, you know how they kill, shaking their prey, then drowning it.”
“Alligators don’t ram boats,” Lars said.
“Looks like this one did,” Jesse said.
Abe frowned, staring at Jesse. “Alligators may follow a boat, looking for a hand out—literally.” He smiled grimly. “But they don’t ram boats. I’d say maybe someone was out here with Billy Ray. Maybe they fought. Maybe Billy Ray even shot at him. Then the fight sent him overboard, and a hungry old male might have been around. A really hungry old male, since we all know gators don’t choose humans.”
“Gentlemen, this is my neck of the woods, and God knows, I want tourists out here as much as anyone, but I’d say it was time we get some kind of warning out,” Jesse said.
“Warning?” Abe protested. “Like what? Don’t head into the Everglades? Killer alligators on the loose?”
“Yeah, something like that,” Jesse said flatly.
Abe shook his head. “Jesse, you’re nuts. What do you want to do, destroy the entire economy out here?”
“I’ll tell you this, I intend to issue a warning,” Jesse said.
“Hey, you do what you want,” Abe said.
“What the hell are you saying?” Jesse demanded, his temper rising. “We all know that Billy Ray was killed by a gator.”
“How do we know that?” Abe demanded. “Seriously. You do an autopsy I don’t know about?”
Jesse stared at him, incredulous. “What?”
“We have a ripped-up body. You said yourself that Billy Ray’s gun had been shot. Maybe someone shot back at him, he wound up in the water, bleeding, and then the gator attacked him. That’s a far more likely scenario.”
“Stop it,” Lars protested. “Both of you. We’ve got a bad situation here.”
“Yeah, we do. A couple shot to death—with the remains of an alligator found nearby. Now a fellow who knew this place better than any living human being, killed by an alligator. If that isn’t enough—” Jesse said.
“That couple were killed because they saw something going on in the swamp—I’d lay odds on it. And alligators don’t shoot people,” Lars argued. “These incidents are totally unrelated.”
Jesse just stared at him, so irritated he longed to take a jab at Abe’s out-thrust, obstinate jaw. Instead, he turned and walked away. “You do what you want. So will I.”
“Hey!” Lars called after him.
Jesse turned back.
“Jesse…you may want to be on the lookout for a…well, I don’t know. A rogue alligator. A big one,” Lars suggested.
“Yeah. Are you going to contact the rangers, or should I?” Jesse asked.
“I’ll see that they’re notified,” Lars assured him grimly.
Abe snorted. “Yeah. We’ll handle this one by the book. This is your neck of the woods, Jesse. Billy Ray was one of yours. Homicide only comes in when we’ve got a murder. We’ll see that the site is investigated, and then we’ll sign off on it. This is your ball game.”
“And I’ll get warnings out on Indian land. And I also intend to arrange a hunt.”
“It ain’t season, Jesse,” Abe said.
Jesse crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe not, but it is tribal land. Like you said, it’s my call. At the least, we’re talking about a nuisance animal. I’ll be taking steps.”
Abe threw up his hands.
“This one is your call, Jesse,” Lars told him.
“Fine. And you know the call I’ve made. You put out the warnings in your territory.”
“Because of one alligator?”
“How do we know it’s just one?” Jesse demanded.
“And how do we know Billy Ray didn’t just drink himself silly, then irritate the creature—a normal, everyday predator that happens to live out here—and make the mistake of going in right where a big boy was hungry?”
“What was an alligator limb doing out where Hector and Maria were killed?” Jesse demanded.
Abe shook his head. “People murdered with
big guns—and a natural predator attack. There’s no damned connection!”
“Hey,” Lars said. “The matter will be under investigation.”
“Abe, I’m warning you, there could be a lot more trouble,” Jesse said.
“Great. I’m warned,” Abe said.
“Jesse, no one is going at this with a closed mind,” Lars assured him. “Hell, I’m a cop, not a kindergarten teacher. We’re professionals. We’ll complete our investigation of the scene and sign this one over to you. Abe, dammit—you know as well as I do that anything is possible. All right, children?”
“Sure,” Abe said.
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “You’re right. And now I have to go talk to a woman about the fact that her husband is dead.”
Abe snorted. “She should be relieved.”
Lars exploded, swearing.
Jesse turned away.
He couldn’t put it off any longer. He had to go to see Ginny.
And then…
Then he would have to talk to Julie.
The night ahead seemed bleak indeed.
Chapter 5
Since she was carrying a lock pick in her purse, Lorena had no problem waving with a smile as the car drove away, then heading straight back inside and down the hall to Dr. Michael Preston’s lab.
She stood for several seconds in the hallway, but the place was entirely empty.
There were guards on duty, of course. But they were outside, protecting the alligator farm. She had made a point in the beginning of seeing whether there were cameras in the hallways, but there weren’t—not unless they were exceptionally well hidden.
She headed for the door, reaching into her purse.
“Lorena!”
Stunned, she spun around. Michael was there in the hallway, right behind her.
“Hey!” she said cheerfully, approaching him quickly.
“I thought you were going to get some rest tonight?” he said, frowning.
“I changed my mind. I was hoping to find you.”
“In the hallway? You just waved goodbye to us.”
“I don’t know—sixth sense, maybe. You’re back, and I’m so glad. I can still go with you. If you’re still going.”
He nodded. “I forgot my cell phone, so I came back to get it.”
“Great. I’ll wait for you.”
He nodded, still appearing puzzled, but she kept her smile in place, following him into the lab.
The hatchlings squeaked from their terrariums.
Lorena stood politely by the door, waiting. As she had before, she inventoried what she could see of the lab.
The file cabinets. Michael’s desk. The pharmaceutical shelves. The computer.
He took his cell phone from the desktop, then joined her. She linked arms with him, and felt the tension in him ease.
“Are you a poker player?” he asked her.
“Not really,” she admitted.
“There’s not too much else,” he warned.
“I love slot machines,” she assured him.
He smiled back at her. Apparently her attempt at flirtation was working. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. He was a good-looking man, with a sense of humor, and though it seemed he sometimes wondered if he were too much of an egghead in comparison with the rugged handlers, he apparently also had faith in his own charisma. “Let’s head out, then, shall we?” he asked, and there was a husky note in his voice. If she was happy in his company, it apparently wasn’t too big a surprise to him.
Then again, she’d been trying to keep the right balance. Flirt just the right amount with the bunch of them.
“Let’s head out,” she agreed, and she fell into step with him, aware of his arm around her shoulder—and also aware that the lab was where she really needed to be.
Jesse had a feeling that Ms. Lorena Fortier from Jacksonville would be quite surprised when she learned that the Miccosukee police department currently consisted of a staff of twenty-seven, nine of them civilian employees, the other eighteen officers deployed throughout the community in three main areas: north of the Everglades in Broward County; the Krome Avenue area, encompassing the casino and environs; and the largest center of tribal operations, on the Tamiami Trail. The pay was good, and the Miccosukee cops were a respected group. The department had been created in ’76, because most of the tribal areas were so remote that a specific force was necessary to protect the community, and to work with both the state and federal agencies in tracking down crime.
The force had four specialized units: Patrol Services, the Bureau of Professional Standards, the Background Investigations Unit and the Records Section. Jesse wondered if Lorena was under the impression that he was working as the Lone Ranger.
Before he made his dreaded trip to Ginny’s place, he returned to the station. His crews were up on everything that happened in the jurisdiction, but he hadn’t been back in himself yet, and he disliked being in a situation where communication wasn’t tight as a drum.
The night crew was coming on, but he was in time to catch the nine-to-fivers and give everyone his personal briefing on both the double homicide and the death of Billy Ray.
He liked being at the office; he wasn’t a one-man show, but the department was still small enough that every officer and civilian employee knew that they mattered, and that their opinions were respected. He got the different departments researching activities in the area, possible drug connections, the backgrounds of Hector and Maria, and anything that might strike their minds as unusual, or any kind of connection.
Barry Silverstein, one of the night patrolmen, was especially interested in the alligator limb that had been brought to the veterinarian for examination. “Strange that you found only a piece,” he said. “Think maybe we’re looking for a poacher?” he asked.
“Could be,” Jesse said. “But it’s not likely. We have an alligator season, and a license is easy enough to obtain. Besides, the alligator farms have pretty much taken the profit out of poaching.”
“Kids?” Brenda Hardy, the one woman on night duty, inquired. “You know, teenagers, maybe. Or college students. Say that the piece of the alligator has nothing to do with the murders. Maybe some kids pledging a fraternity or just making ridiculous dares to one another.”
“I sure hope it’s not a trend,” Barry said. “They may have gotten that gator, but you start playing around with some of the big boys out there…well, hell, we know what they’re capable of.”
“Poor Billy Ray,” Brenda said sadly, shaking her head. She was a pretty woman, tall and slim, and all business. She was light-skinned and light-haired, probably of Germanic or Nordic descent. You didn’t have to be Native American to be on the force. Barry, who was Jewish and had had ancestors in the States so long he didn’t know where they’d originally come from, always liked to tease her that she was an Indian wannabe. Brenda had once gravely shut him up by assuring him that she had been a Native American in her previous life.
“I’ll tell you frankly that this situation scares the hell out of me. These people are brutal and ruthless. Everyone has to be alert,” Jesse warned.
George Osceola, one of the native officers on the force, a tall man with huge shoulders and a calm, controlled way of speaking that made him even more imposing, had been watching the entire time. He spoke then. “Jesse, you think these incidents are related, don’t you. How?”
“That’s what I can’t figure. Murders that cold-blooded are usually drug related. And we’re not ruling that out,” Jesse said.
“Could we be dealing with some kind of cult?” George asked.
“I don’t know. What I do believe is that we’ve got to get to the bottom of it fast. George, ask questions, see if anyone has seen anything out of the ordinary. People coming through who aren’t out to enjoy nature or a day at the village. Strangers who hang around. Anything out of the ordinary. Anything. Metro-Dade homicide is working the murders. I’m afraid we may find the killers closer to home.”
“We’ll all be o
n it,” Brenda said.
Jesse nodded. “Brenda, do me a favor. Get background investigations busy for me, will you?”
“On the Hernandez family?” Brenda asked, sounding puzzled.
“No. On a woman named Lorena Fortier. I just wrote her a ticket, so we’ll have her driver’s license information. Find out more about where she comes from, what she’s been doing.”
“Lorena Fortier?”
“She just started working at Harry’s.”
“All right,” Brenda said, still puzzled, but asking no more questions.
“You going out to Ginny’s now?” Barry asked.
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “And then to see Julie.”
No one replied. No one offered to take on the responsibility. He didn’t want them to, and they knew it. These were things he had to do.
He left to see Ginny, and it was rough. As rough as he had expected.
Eventually he left Ginny with her sister and niece, both of whom apparently thought that Billy Ray had come by accident to an end that he deserved. Thankfully, they weren’t saying that to Ginny, though; they were just holding her and soothing her. Anne, Ginny’s niece, had told him that as soon as possible, she was going to take her aunt away for a while. For the moment, they had called the doctor, who had prescribed a sedative for her.
Before he left, Ginny had gripped his hand. Her large dark eyes had touched his.
“Help me, Jesse—please. Find out…find out what happened.”
“Ginny, he met with a mean gator,” her sister said.
But Ginny shook her head. “Billy Ray knew gators. Jesse, you have to help. I have to know…why. Oh, God, oh, God…Jesse I need to know, and you’re the only one who can help.”
With her words ringing in his ears, he had gone on to meet Julie.
Hell of a night.
So now he sat with his old friend in the upstairs bar of the casino hotel where she had chosen to stay. Julie had told him that she appreciated his offer to let her stay at his place, but she had wanted to be closer to the city and couldn’t quite bring herself to stay in her parents’ house.