A False Dawn Read Online Free PDF Page A

else did he say?”
    Dave sipped his beer.  “Are you in some kind of trouble, Sean?”
    “By default.”  I told him about finding the girl.
    Dave sat the beer in the cup holder.  “I saw a little piece on the news.  They didn’t have much.  Said an unidentified woman was found beaten and stabbed near the St. Johns River.  The reporter said police are questioning a ‘person of interest.’  By the detective’s line of questioning, I bet you’re that ‘person of interest?  You think this Joe Billie did it?”
    “Wish I knew.”
    Dave made a slight grunt and sipped his beer.  “Tell me again what the victim said, the words she uttered to you?”
    “ Atlacatl imix cuanmiztli .” 
    Dave wrote it down on the back of a napkin.  “Wonder what it means?”  He folded the napkin and placed it in the pocket of his Hawaiian-print shirt.  “If English isn’t her first language, what is?  Where’s home?”
    “She looked exotic, similar to the people I’ve seen in areas of Central America.  I’d held her hand waiting for paramedics.  There were no calluses.  Nails were painted, lipstick smeared, she wore tight jeans and a blouse.”
    “What are you thinking?”
    “I’m wondering if she made it.  Who’s her family?  Where’s she from?”  
    “Sean, this detective Slater is curious about you .”
    “What else did he say?”      
    “Didn’t seem like your typical sleuth.”
    “How?”
    “Poor listener.  Knew answers to questions before he finished asking them.”
    “What sort of questions?”
    “The usual.  How much time did you spend on your boat?  Did you ever bring women here?  Any rough stuff or noises?   He was trying to see if you fit a profile.”
    “What’d you tell him?”
    “I told him you were a loner and came to the boat only on the night of a full moon and on a high tide.”  Dave chuckled and swallowed the last ounce of his beer.  “I didn’t tell him a damn thing, really.  Nothing to tell.  You’re one of the good guys, Sean.  A burnout, but one of the good guys.  Seen my share of the bad ones.”
    “Bet you have.”
    “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
    “Thanks, Dave.”
    “Maybe I can catch you for eggs and issues in the morning.”
    Dave never referred to the morning meal as ‘breakfast.’  It was always called ‘eggs and issues’ because it was when he liked discussing the morning newspaper.
    “Tiki bar at eight a.m. for breakfast,” I said.
#
    THE ROAR OF A DOZEN Harleys carried across the marina.  The bikers seemed to parade through the marina’s gravel parking lot, disembarking in front of the Bayside Bar and Grille.  Black leather and jeans stepping from the shiny chrome, like cowboys tying up horses in front of a saloon at sundown on a Saturday night. 
    I could smell the smoke from blackened Florida redfish coming from the Bayside, which was an outdoor tiki bar with a roof of dried palm fronds.  The hangout catered to tourists, boaters, bikers and a few vagabonds that fell between the cracks and landed on barstools.  The tiki bar sat on stilts over the water.   
    Maybe I’d stay on Jupiter for the night, make sure the bilge was performing well. As I debated whether to make the drive home, I thought about Max and her tiny bladder. 
    So it would be an evening with a wiener dog.  I’d call Dave and cancel breakfast.    
     
    I CROSSED THE DUNLAWTON BRIDGE just as the sun was painting the Halifax River in shades of flattened copper and deep merlot reds that simmered across the water like a river of blood.  The day’s events seemed a lifetime ago.  Was the girl okay?  No, she wasn’t okay.  Never would be.  But was she alive?    
    Then I turned my Jeep around and drove fast toward Halifax Hospital.

 
     
     
    SEVEN
     
    Death has an odor unlike any other.  The smell is often the first thing that greets you at a murder crime scene.  In Miami, the heat and humidity would accelerate the decay