Jo had almost convinced herself that maybe Nick was right, that Mickey had got sick of Pete and just decided not to come on the trip. She knew in her heart that it couldn’t be true, that Mickey would never have let Jo go on alone, but still she hoped. Pete’s admission that he had called Mickey’s mother killed that hope. Nick might have been fooled by the look in Pete’s eye. Jo wasn’t. She’d seen enough of his lies to know that he was lying now.
Every few minutes, Nick would flip open his phone and check for a signal. Each time he did it, the knot in Jo’s stomach got a little tighter.
Finally, Nick said, “I think we’d better stop here for a bit. We don’t want to lose the signal.”
As they had moved along, Jo had checked over her shoulder for any sign of the Sunset Voyager. Once or twice, she thought she’d seen it, but it hadn’t come any closer. She figured if Pete was back there, he’d catch up with them now.
Nick turned off the engine and then dropped the anchor. He asked Jo if she wanted some water. She said no, and they settled into an uneasy silence. Then Jo went below to use the washroom and when she came back, Nick went down. When he came up, Jo was on the back deck. Nick’s phone sat on the leather bench at the back.
They made meaningless conversation that came in fits and starts. The atmosphere grew more oppressive until finally, Jo could stand it no longer.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Nick looked at his watch. “11:40. That’d be 8:40 on the coast. Bernie might be in his office. Do you want me to call him?”
Jo nodded. “I can’t take it any more,” she said.
Bernie was in his office. He was pacing up and down in front of his desk trying to figure out the best way to give Nick the bad news. He still hadn’t figured that out when his phone rang.
Neither man bothered to pass the time of day. Nick said, “Hey, Bernie! What’s the word?”
Bernie gave him the word. And the word was ‘death’. Bernie told him that a body had been found in a parking garage stairwell four days ago. There had been no identification but there had been a substantial amount of money in the purse. It looked like the woman had fallen down the stairs. The police didn’t make it a top priority because no one had reported her missing. Bernie’s report yesterday had helped the police to identify the body as that of Michelle Lassiter. The police were treating the death as accidental unless other information was brought to their attention to change their opinion. There were no signs of a struggle.
Nick said ‘thanks’ and ‘keep me posted’ and hung up.
As soon as the word ‘dead’ had been mentioned, Nick had reached for Jo and held her tight in his arm as he listened to Bernie speak. Then he flipped the phone shut.
Jo looked up at him. “Mickey?” she whispered.
Nick nodded. “I’m sorry, Jo.”
All the strength went out of Jo’s limbs, and she crumpled against him. Nick held her up while she sobbed into his chest.
“No, no, no…”
Jo repeated it over and over. It was what she was expecting, but she still couldn’t take it in. Mickey was gone.
After a few moments, she straightened up. She swiped at her face with her hands. She managed to choke out one word.
“How?”
“She fell down the stairs in a parking garage. She broke her neck.”
“You mean she was pushed,” said Jo. “Pete pushed her.”
Nick sighed. “Maybe he did, Jo. I don’t know. The police don’t know either. They won’t know that, I guess, until you go back and tell them.”
“You mean they’re not looking for him.”
“They’ve only just identified her,” said Nick. “I guess they haven’t had time yet to…:
“Give me the phone,” said Jo. “I’ll set them straight. I’ll tell them who to look at.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” said Nick. “Bernie will tell them everything I’ve told him. They’ll look into Pete, for sure.”
“Are you going to tell him?” asked Jo.
“I don’t know,” said Nick. “I said I would. I said I’d call him. But I don’t know. I guess I’d like to see his face when I tell him. Maybe that way I’d know…”
Jo jerked her head and pointed over the back of the boat. “Well, it looks like you’re going to get your chance. Here he comes.”
Nick turned in the direction of Jo’s outstretched arm. Coming up on them was the Sunset Voyager.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Peter Crofton couldn’t seem to make his brain work. The revelation that his complicated plan wasn’t going to work had made it difficult for him to think. All he could think about was the cell phone hidden in the laundry bag. He wanted to get that out and smash it to bits and then drop the pieces one by one into the waterway miles apart from each other. Then he’d work out a story to match the facts.
But first, he had to deal with Nick and Jo.
Pete pulled his boat as close to the Lenore as he could. Then he dropped the anchor and went down to the back deck. He threw a rope over to Nick, who caught it. Nick looped it around his railing and tied a loose knot. He fiddled with it a bit longer than necessary, waiting for one of the others to speak. Neither did.
Finally Nick looked up at Pete. The other man stared at him. Nick tried to read the look on his face. It was fear, Nick decided, but he couldn’t decide if it was the fear of hearing bad news or the fear of being caught.
Nick grimaced and spread his hands, telling Pete the bad news without words.
Pete didn’t move for a few seconds while he digested the words. Then he shook his head the tiniest bit and whispered, "No."
“I’m sorry, Pete,” said Nick. “I just talked to Bernie.”
“No,” murmured Pete, “no, no…”
From behind him, Nick heard a snort of disgust.
“She fell,” said Nick, “down some stairs…in a parking garage.”
“When?” asked Pete. He put on a bewildered face.
“They don’t really know,” replied Nick. “They found her a couple of days ago, but she didn’t have any I.D. on her.”
“Why not?” asked Pete.
It was a good question, he thought, and he’d asked it to hide his glee at finding out that Mickey hadn’t been found right away. Then he remembered that it didn’t matter any more, that they would be able to pinpoint the night she died. That thought made him frown.
Nick shrugged. He didn’t know. He gave the rest of the details to Pete. He watched the other man’s face carefully, trying to read his expression and reaction. Nick could see that Pete was shocked and very much affected by the news, but he couldn’t tell if it was horror or guilt, shock or remorse.
Nick finished speaking and wait,ed for Pete to say something. Pete stood there for a few seconds, and then he whispered, “Mickey. Oh, Mickey.”
“Nice try, Pete,” said Jo, coldly.
Pete blinked and looked at her, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Jo…” he said. There was pleading in his voice. Nick didn’t know how to interpret it.
“I’m going to make sure you pay for this,” said Jo. “You murderer!”
Pete’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. Then he turned to Nick. “I never hurt her. I didn’t. I never touched her. I loved that girl.”
The words hit Nick like a blow. They were reminiscent of the words he’d said after being falsely accused by the press of hitting Paris and blackening her eye. The horror of those days washed over him.
Pete backed up to the bench at the back of his deck and sat down. He put his head in his hands. His mind was scrambling to find something to say. He’d thrown Nick off guard with that last comment. Pete knew that for sure. He almost smiled. Mickey and her obsession with Paris Hilton! Pete wouldn’t have been surprised if Mickey had put out a contract on the blonde slut. And when the picture appeared of Paris with bruises and she didn’t deny that Nick had done it, Pete had had to forcibly restrain Mickey from hunting the girl down herself! Pete guessed Mickey had shown him the clip of Nick denying it at least a dozen times. Pete was glad now that she had.
The silence became oppressive. Nick didn’t know what to do. Should he say, ‘okay, then, so Pete, your woman is dead, I guess you’ll be wanting to move along. See ya!’? Should he phone Bernie back and tell him to send the police to get Pete? Should he call the Coast Guard and tell them to come and get them all and let some higher authority figure it out. Nick wished one of the others would say something.
“You fucking asshole!”
It was Jo who spoke. Pete looked up at her and shook his head sadly.
“You make me sick!” hissed Jo, and she turned and went below.
Pete looked at Nick. “Poor Jo,” he said. “She and Mickey were…” He didn’t finish the sentence, just shook his head again.
Nick nodded but said nothing.
The silence continued for another minute, and then Nick could stand it no longer.
“So what do you think you’ll do now?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Pete. “I have to get back to Fayetteville. But I have to deliver the boat first. And I think that would be the fastest way anyway. I’ll take the boat to Fort Lauderdale and then fly home.” He paused. “I guess…I don’t know…what do you think I should do?”
Nick shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. That sounds like a plan. You might want to call Mickey’s mom again. Maybe she can tell you the…you know…details…the plans.”
Pete nodded. “Yeah…yeah, I should do that.” He calculated mentally for a moment and then said in a distracted voice, “Yeah, I guess I could make it to Fort Lauderdale by tomorrow night. Yeah…I could do that.”
Nick nodded. “Maybe that would be the best thing, then.”
There was another small silence and then Pete looked down at his feet and said, “I just feel so guilty.”
“Oh?” said Nick, wondering if there was a confession coming.
Pete raised his head and looked at Nick. Then he fooled the young, blond man for the last time. “You know, because I thought she’d dumped me. I thought she was off with another man and really, she was…I feel awful.”
He reached out and untied the rope from the railing of the Lenore. “Awful,” he repeated, “I feel awful.” He pushed on the boat, and the Sunset Voyager started to drift away.
A sound made both men look up. Standing on the front deck of the Sunset Voyager was Jo. She had a panicked look on her face and a cell phone in her hand.
