hands, then sat. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“What brings you to Key West?”
“That should be obvious.” She heard the angry edge in her voice and worked to quell it. “My sister, Lieutenant.”
He settled back in his chair. Its aging springs creaked with the movement. “How can I help?”
“I’d like you to reopen your investigation into her disappearance.”
“I can’t do that. I’m sorry. Ask me something else.” “She didn’t suffer a mental breakdown and run off, Lieutenant. I’m positive she didn’t.” “How do you know?”
The wording of his question caught her off guard. His slightly confrontational tone didn’t. “I know my sister, Lieutenant Lopez. She’s not given to emotionalism or flights of fancy. In fact, she’s the most stable person I’ve ever known.”
“That’s an awfully confident claim.”
“It’s true.”
“So, you believe her to be alive?” “Pardon me?”
“You’re referring to her in the present tense. But if she’s alive and didn’t run off, where is she?”
Liz felt his words like a blow to her gut. She went cold, then hot. Tears stung her eyes. “No, Lieutenant, I … I’m afraid she’s …”
She cleared her throat, struggling to find her voice, to speak clearly and confidently. She had to convince him. “I’m afraid she was murdered, Lieutenant Lopez. I’m afraid she uncovered some sort of illegal activities on the island and was murdered because of it. I wish I didn’t think this.”
For a long moment he said nothing. When he finally spoke, his tone was patient. “If she had uncovered illegal activities on the island, why didn’t she call me?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps she called one of the other detectives?”
“She didn’t.” He softened his tone. “The most grounded of people can suffer a mental breakdown, it happens all the time. One can be precipitated by extreme stress, uncertainty, even physical conditions such as—”
“I’m a social worker,” she snapped. “I’m well aware of the kind of influences that can bring about a mental breakdown.”
“But you’re Rachel’s sister. Often it’s the people closest to us we see with the least clarity.”
She ignored the truth of that. “I’m her only family. More than three months have passed. If she’s alive, why hasn’t she contacted me?”
“I can’t answer that with any certainty, Ms. Ames. Perhaps she’s operating under some sort of paranoid delusions. Her behavior certainly suggested something of that sort. As did the claims she made on your answering machine. Or perhaps she’s physically unable to contact you.”
Liz balled her hands into fists. “Are you suggesting she’s developed amnesia? That phenomenon is extremely rare, much more so than murder, I’m sorry to say.”
He tossed his pen on the table, expression frustrated. “I’m suggesting nothing, Ms. Ames. I’m offering you possibilities.”
“Sorry, Lieutenant, but in my opinion, they don’t hold water.”
“Really.” He cocked an eyebrow. “How about this one? Perhaps she doesn’t wish to contact you. By your own account, you two argued the last time you spoke.”
Heat flew to Liz’s cheeks. Guilty heat. “Yes, we argued,” she retorted, tone defensive. “But not so bitterly that—”
“If she was murdered, where’s the blood? The signs of a struggle? The body?” He leaned forward, gaze locked with hers. “We found nothing to indicate your sister met with a violent end. That should be a relief for you to hear, Ms. Ames. I’m a little surprised it isn’t.”
She ignored the comment, though it hit its mark. Why wasn’t she eager to believe her sister alive? What was wrong with her? “I want you to reopen the case.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s no evidence to justify my doing so.” He stood, signaling an end to their conversation.
Reluctantly, Liz followed him to his feet. “I’d like a copy of the police report.”
“Sorry, can’t help you.” He glanced at his watch. “If there’s nothing else, I have another appointment.”
She had blown it, she knew. She had marched in here, all demands and accusations. Rachel had always admonished her for being a hothead. “Liz, sweetie, try a little honey next time.”
Liz swallowed her anger and held a hand out. “Please, Lieutenant Lopez. By your own account, the investigation is closed. Perhaps I’ll see something in the file you overlooked, something—”
“You won’t.” He met her gaze evenly. “Make no mistake, Ms. Ames, I’m extremely thorough. This is my town, my little slice of heaven on earth, and I take every infraction of the law seriously. I don’t look the other way and I don’t take the easy way. If I had found one shred of evidence indicating your sister was murdered, I would have aggressively pursued the investigation.”
“And if I find evidence, Lieutenant? Will you reopen and aggressively pursue the investigation?”
“Yes, dammit. Of course I will.”
“Consider yourself on notice, then. Because I intend to discover what happened to my sister. In fact, I’ve put my life on hold to do it. And I don’t care how long it takes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the business cards she’d had printed at the Speedy-print over the weekend.
He glanced at it, then back at her, one corner of his mouth lifting. “I admire your determination. I think it’s misplaced, but hey, I’ve only been a lawman for eleven years. May I ask what your first step is going to be?”
She shot him what she hoped was a winning smile. “Your report, of course.”
He stared at her a moment, then tipped back his head and laughed. “All right, you win.” He held up a hand, stopping her thanks. “But you can’t take it from the building or make a copy. And before you try hitting me with the Freedom of Information Act, that act applies most specifically to cases that have already been tried. Since you’ve just told me that I’ll be reopening this case, I guess I better make certain the information isn’t contaminated. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“I’ll get you set up in one of the interrogation rooms.” She smiled again, relieved. “Thanks, Lieutenant Lopez. I—”
He cut her off. “A word of warning, Ms. Ames. Key Westers are fiercely loyal to their own. Fiercely … protective. I suggest you tread carefully. Try not to step on too many toes. You won’t like what happens.”
CHAPTER 8
Monday, November 5 1:15 p.m.
Three
