doesn't show up, what do I do?"
"Oh, just flag down a water taxi. They come by about every fifteen minutes. You won't have a problem. You can just bill me. Which reminds me, we haven't talked about what I'll be paying you."
It was something she had to bring up to make sure, but she knew and I knew that this wasn't a job for pay.
"That won't be necessary," I said. "If I do this, there is only one thing I'd like in return."
"What's that?"
"Terry once told me about your daughter. He said you two named her Cielo Azul."
"That's right. He picked the name."
"Did he ever tell you why?"
"He just said he liked it. He said he knew a girl named Cielo Azul once."
I nodded.
"What I would like for payment for doing this is to meet her someday-when this is all over, I mean."
That gave Graciela a moment of pause. Then she nodded her agreement.
"She's a sweetheart. You'll like meeting her."
"I'm sure I will." "Harry, did you know her? The girl Terry named our daughter after?"
I looked at her a moment and nodded.
"Yes, you could say I knew her. Someday if you'd like I'll tell you about her."
She nodded and started to push the Zodiac off the fantail. I helped with my foot.
"The little key opens the salon door," she said. "The rest you should be able to figure out. I hope you find something that helps."
I nodded and held up the keys as if they would open every door I would ever encounter. I watched her head back to the dock and then I climbed over the stern and into the cockpit.
Some sort of sense of duty made me climb the ladder to the upper helm before I went inside the boat. I pulled the canvas cover off the control station and stood for a moment next to the wheel and the seat and envisioned the story Buddy Lockridge had told me of Terry collapsing here. It somehow seemed appropriate for him to collapse at the wheel, yet with what I now knew, it also seemed so wrong. I put my hand on the top of the chair as if resting it on someone's shoulder. I decided that I would find the answers to all of the questions before I finished here.
The small chrome key on the ring Graciela had given me opened the mirrored sliding door that led inside the boat. I left it open to air out the interior. There was a briny, funky smell inside. I traced it to the rods and reels stored on ceiling racks, artificial baits still in place. I guessed that they had not been washed off and properly cared for after the last charter. There had not been time. There had not been a reason. I wanted to go down the steps to the stateroom in the bow where I knew Terry kept all his investigative files. But I decided to leave that place for last. I decided to begin in the salon and work my way down.
The salon had a functional layout with a couch, chair and coffee table on the right side leading to a chart desk built behind the seat of the interior helm. On the opposite side was a restaurant-style booth with red leather padding. A television was locked down in a partition that separated the booth from the galley and then there was a short stairway I knew led down to the forward staterooms and a bathroom.
The salon was neat and clean. I stood in the middle of the space and just observed it for a half minute before going to the chart station and opening drawers. McCaleb had kept the charter business files here. I found listings of customers and a calendar for charter reservations. There were also records dealing with his collection from Visa and MasterCard, which he evidently accepted from customers as payment. The charter business had a bank account and there was a checkbook in the drawer, too. I checked the register and saw that just about everything that came in went back out again to cover fuel and mooring charges as well as fishing and other charter supplies. There was no record of cash deposits so I concluded that if the business was profitable it was in the unrecorded cash payments from customers, depending on how many of these there were.
In the bottom drawer
"Oh, just flag down a water taxi. They come by about every fifteen minutes. You won't have a problem. You can just bill me. Which reminds me, we haven't talked about what I'll be paying you."
It was something she had to bring up to make sure, but she knew and I knew that this wasn't a job for pay.
"That won't be necessary," I said. "If I do this, there is only one thing I'd like in return."
"What's that?"
"Terry once told me about your daughter. He said you two named her Cielo Azul."
"That's right. He picked the name."
"Did he ever tell you why?"
"He just said he liked it. He said he knew a girl named Cielo Azul once."
I nodded.
"What I would like for payment for doing this is to meet her someday-when this is all over, I mean."
That gave Graciela a moment of pause. Then she nodded her agreement.
"She's a sweetheart. You'll like meeting her."
"I'm sure I will." "Harry, did you know her? The girl Terry named our daughter after?"
I looked at her a moment and nodded.
"Yes, you could say I knew her. Someday if you'd like I'll tell you about her."
She nodded and started to push the Zodiac off the fantail. I helped with my foot.
"The little key opens the salon door," she said. "The rest you should be able to figure out. I hope you find something that helps."
I nodded and held up the keys as if they would open every door I would ever encounter. I watched her head back to the dock and then I climbed over the stern and into the cockpit.
Some sort of sense of duty made me climb the ladder to the upper helm before I went inside the boat. I pulled the canvas cover off the control station and stood for a moment next to the wheel and the seat and envisioned the story Buddy Lockridge had told me of Terry collapsing here. It somehow seemed appropriate for him to collapse at the wheel, yet with what I now knew, it also seemed so wrong. I put my hand on the top of the chair as if resting it on someone's shoulder. I decided that I would find the answers to all of the questions before I finished here.
The small chrome key on the ring Graciela had given me opened the mirrored sliding door that led inside the boat. I left it open to air out the interior. There was a briny, funky smell inside. I traced it to the rods and reels stored on ceiling racks, artificial baits still in place. I guessed that they had not been washed off and properly cared for after the last charter. There had not been time. There had not been a reason. I wanted to go down the steps to the stateroom in the bow where I knew Terry kept all his investigative files. But I decided to leave that place for last. I decided to begin in the salon and work my way down.
The salon had a functional layout with a couch, chair and coffee table on the right side leading to a chart desk built behind the seat of the interior helm. On the opposite side was a restaurant-style booth with red leather padding. A television was locked down in a partition that separated the booth from the galley and then there was a short stairway I knew led down to the forward staterooms and a bathroom.
The salon was neat and clean. I stood in the middle of the space and just observed it for a half minute before going to the chart station and opening drawers. McCaleb had kept the charter business files here. I found listings of customers and a calendar for charter reservations. There were also records dealing with his collection from Visa and MasterCard, which he evidently accepted from customers as payment. The charter business had a bank account and there was a checkbook in the drawer, too. I checked the register and saw that just about everything that came in went back out again to cover fuel and mooring charges as well as fishing and other charter supplies. There was no record of cash deposits so I concluded that if the business was profitable it was in the unrecorded cash payments from customers, depending on how many of these there were.
In the bottom drawer
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