Iris Johansen - Bonnie

“I don’t have any kids.” He looked at the pier, which had only a slender cord on one side. “Nah, not a good idea. Maybe we’d better have a talk with Bubba.”

“After we talk to him about the scuba equipment. Where the hell is he? The place is deserted.”

“What are you cops doing here?” A truck had been driven through the gates behind them, and a bald man had stuck his head out the window. “I’ve got a license. You’ve got nothing on me. Has the Department of Environmental Quality been complaining? I treat my gators good.”

“No one’s been complaining,” Julian said. “Though I’m beginning to wonder why not. Are you the proprietor of this business?”

“I’m Bubba Grant.” The bald man got out of the truck. “Yeah, I own the farm. I’m just trying to make a living like everyone else. A man tries to get ahead, and all of a sudden the cops are down on him.”

“I’m Detective Julian. This is Detective Quinn. We have a few questions to ask you.”

“I treat my gators good. They’re better off than they would be in the swamp.”

“Do you use any underwater scuba equipment?” Joe asked.

“Are you crazy? I don’t let anyone in the water with the gators. Do you know what that would do to my insurance?”

“Do you have any underwater equipment you use for maintenance? What about when you have an injured alligator or you need to remove harmful debris from your pond?”

“Naturally, I keep my gators safe.”

“So you do have underwater equipment.”

“A suit, a speargun and some spears.” He added quickly, “But I’d never use them on the gators if I could help it. Only self-defense. Maybe to save a kid who fell off the pier in the water or something like that.”

“I’m impressed by your humanity,” Joe said ironically. “May I see the equipment?”

“Sure. It’s in the storeroom behind the gift shop. I’ve got nothing to hide.” He moved toward the shops. “Is this some new rule the DEQ has come up with? Do you want to talk to any of my people? You’ll have to wait for a couple hours. We don’t open until noon, and no one shows up until the last minute. You can’t get good help these days.”

“Why noon?” Julian asked.

“The gators have got to be hungry, or they don’t put on a good show. They won’t come near the pier. People like a little thrill, you know?” They had reached the gift shop, and he pulled out his key, then stopped. “What the hell?”

The jamb of the door was splintered, and the door was slightly ajar.

Bubba was cursing as he pushed the door open. “I’ve been robbed!” He ran to the cash register and checked it. “The son of a bitches thought I’d leave money in here? I’m no dope.” He glanced around the shop and frowned. “I don’t see anything missing.”

“The underwater equipment,” Joe prodded.

“Oh, yeah.” Bubba ran to a door and threw it open. “It’s gone. Who told you that I’d been robbed? Have you got the stuff? Do I have to identify it?”

“Not until we find it.” Joe was kneeling on the floor, examining a stain. “Get the forensic team in here, Julian.”

“Blood?” Julian nodded as he checked out the stain. “Our man could have done it on one of the spears.”

“If it’s his blood.” Joe glanced around the room. “Overturned stool a few yards away. Could have been a struggle.” He turned to Bubba. “You said no employees were on the premises last night or early this morning?”

“I didn’t say that. I said no one was here now. Gil Weber is caretaker and leaves about eight in the morning.” He was looking at the blood. “Gil’s an ex-Marine. I wouldn’t have hired him to guard the place if he couldn’t take care of himself.” Bubba took out his phone. “I’ll call and see if he saw anything.” He hung up a few minutes later. “No answer. But maybe he’s asleep. He works all night. That blood can’t be his. If he was hurt, there would be a trail of it, wouldn’t there? Just a couple drops, then he’s gone?”

“Maybe.” Joe turned and left the shop. He stood there and stared thoughtfully out at the muddy pond. He glanced at Bubba, who had scurried after him. “Tell me, is it common for your prehistoric friends to cluster all together like that?”

“No, they generally like their own space. They have to have a reason. Why are you-” Bubba’s eyes widened in his suddenly pale face. “Oh, shit.”

“JOE’S BACK.” EVE LAID DOWNher pencil and went to the window to watch Joe get out of the sheriff’s car and bend forward to talk to the dark-haired young man in the driver’s seat. “It’s been a couple hours. I thought that he’d be here sooner.”

“He might as well have been here,” Catherine said ruefully. “We haven’t gotten far in this sketch.”

“We’ve determined shape of the face and the nose,” Eve said. “That’s important. That scuba hood is messing things up. It’s very tight and completely hides the hair. Even the hairline would be helpful. Whether it’s receding or full. He could even have a widow’s peak. You couldn’t tell anything about that part of his face.”

“I thought I’d be more helpful,” Catherine said with frustration.

“You will be,” Eve said. “You’re distracted. You want it too much.”

“Yes, I do. I want it now. ” Catherine looked at Joe as he came into the house, and she asked, “What’s the word? Do they think they’re going to get prints?”

“They have prints, but they probably belong to the eighteen-year-old kid he stole the truck from in New Orleans.”

“Damn,” Eve said.

“But we may still have his fingerprints,” Joe said grimly. “He grabbed that motorboat, a wet suit, and a tank from an alligator farm about fifteen miles from here. The equipment was in the equipment room in the back of the gift shop. He broke in and stole a few knives, a speargun, and the suit.” He paused. “Evidently the caretaker, Gil Weber, surprised him at it and they struggled, and he apparently knocked him out, then tossed him in the alligator pond.”

Eve shuddered. “Dead?”

“He didn’t have a chance. I hope he drowned before the gators got to him.”

“So he’d already killed before he even tried to get Jacobs,” Catherine said.

“Probably unintentional,” Joe said. “But he didn’t hesitate when he was discovered.” He frowned thoughtfully. “He thinks very fast and follows through. When he found out where his target was going to be, he examined his surroundings and pulled together a plan that would allow him to kill Jacobs and give him his best chance to survive and escape. He must have caught a glimpse of that alligator farm on the way here, and everything clicked in his mind.”

“I didn’t even notice the alligator farm,” Catherine said.

“But you were looking for the house and nothing else. The fog was heavy and drifting in and out.” Joe looked at Eve. “Eve and I didn’t pay any attention to it when we came here either. We were… distracted. The man who killed Jacobs wasn’t distracted. He had a purpose and was looking for a way to accomplish it.”

“Formidable,” Catherine said slowly.

“Yes,” Joe said, gazing at Catherine. “And with all the signs of a professional.”

“I agree,” Catherine said. “But that doesn’t mean he was hired by Gallo.”

“It doesn’t mean he wasn’t.” Joe glanced at the notebook on the table. “Any luck?”

“Not yet.”

“Really?”

“I’m trying, Joe,” Catherine said between her teeth. “I’ll get there.”

“I’m sure you will. But I don’t want to wait for it.” He turned back to Eve. “Julian is going to take me into New Orleans. I’m going to see if I can push them to get the results from forensics. Do you want to go with me?”