Page 108 of Water's Edge

“What happened to your Caprice?” Clay asks.

“I’m not sure.” Larry’s smile slips a tad. “It was ready for the junkyard. Maybe it went to the crusher. I hope so.”

I know you do.

“I might be in the market for a personal vehicle,” I say. “Do you think they’d sell it to me?”

“Now, why would you want a piece of junk like that? You get to drive your department car for free, don’t you? Stupid to have gas bills and repairs. And try to find parking with a personal car. Believe me, you don’t want that headache.”

“You’re right,” I say. His smile is back.

“What about you, Clay? You don’t use that Harley for police business, do you?”

Clay looks at me. “I didn’t know we were here to discuss vehicles.”

I can see him tense up. His jaw tightens and the muscles in his neck ripple. His hand moves to his lap, directly beneath the .45.

“We’re a team. Remember?”

He stays mute. I look from Clay to Larry. “I needed to get us all together to iron something out that’s been bugging me.”

It’s perfectly quiet except for a ship’s horn on the bay and the clanging from a buoy.

“Ronnie, tell them what you told me and Sheriff Gray this morning.”

She looks nervous, like a kid in school giving a report in front of the class. I nod at her to indicate it will be okay. She begins and gives almost word for word the report she told me and Sheriff Gray. When she’s done, it’s still silent in the room. Clay hasn’t moved but Larry has lost the smile. I can see a little tic develop under one of his eyes.

“Margie Benton. Dina Knowles. Leann Truitt. Robbie Boyd. Karynn Eades. Qassim Hadir. Captain Roy Martin,” I say.

A stillness fills the space between all of us.

Larry breaks the silence. “Aww. You’re not going to say we still have to investigate all of them other ones, are you? I mean, hell. This Polito guy confessed to three of them. He did the rest. Cases closed.”

Clay’s eyes never stray from mine. “I never thought I’d say this, but even though Roy was one of us, I have to agree with Larry.”

“Well, kiss my ass, Clay,” Larry says but he chuckles and relaxes. “Excuse my French. I mean, this is done. No one’s unhappy. My sheriff even gave me a new car. I’m sure Tony’d like all this to just go away.”

I’m sure someone would. But it’s not happening.

“I don’t usually tell people this”—I look at Clay—“but I have almost perfect memory. If I see something, I can see it exactly the same way even years later. You can call it my all-seeing eye, like the symbol that we found at all the scenes. I’m sure we would have found it near Ronnie’s body if Jimmy had been successful. I can remember everything that is in a room. Exactly where it is, what was near it, colors, all of it.”

No one speaks. I look at Larry. “I guess you could call it a blessing, but sometimes it feels like a curse. For example, I remember pulling down the road along the pier where theIntegritywas moored.”

Larry looks impatient. Clay is unmoved.

“I remember every vehicle, every boat, the hull numbers, boat trailers, everything. I remember everything inside the cabin when Jimmy thought he had the drop on me.”

Still nothing from either of them.

I look directly at Clay.

“I remember seeing a motorcycle tucked in behind a trailer.”

Clay grinned. “And?”

“It wasn’t a Harley. It was a Suzuki. Not your style. Not Jimmy’s, either. His police car was there. I couldn’t see the back, but I got the tag number.”

“I did too,” Clay says. “I’ve got a copy on my desk. It’s one of the dockworkers’ bikes. He weighs ninety pounds wet. No way he could have done any of this. But if it makes you happy, I’ll bring him in.”

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