“We’re searching the whole island now,” Tommy said.
“The bike is …” Dino looked for a street sign and gave him the name. “It’s got a scabbard for a rifle strapped to it. Get somebody out here; there may be prints.”
“Right,” Tommy said, and he hung up again.
“Listen to me, kids,” he said, showing them his badge. “Don’t you touch that bike, and don’t you let anybody else touch it. More cops will be here in a minute.” He gave each of them a ten, then he got back into his car and turned around.
There was no point in continuing his search, since he didn’t know what he was looking for. He drove back to the Marquesa restaurant. As he reached the corner he saw a pair of EMTs wheeling a gurney out into the street. Nobody was holding an IV bottle over her, 2 3 6
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and the sheet was pulled over her head. He went into the restaurant and found Stone, sitting on a bar stool, talking into his cell phone. Stone hung up. “That was Tommy. They’ve lost the son of a bitch,”
he said. “They’re setting up another roadblock at the Seven Mile Bridge, but he could be back in Key West now, or on a plane.”
“Annika?” Dino asked.
“The bullet went in here,” Stone said, pointing to a spot over his left ear, “and came out over her right eye. She had a pulse for a couple of minutes, but I lost it. The EMTs said there was never a chance.” Stone slumped over the bar. “Now what do I do?” he said, disconsolately.
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STON E WA S ST R E TC H E D out on his bed, half asleep. Dino had contacted Annika’s sister, who was on her way to Key West, and he was now on the phone, making arrangements with a funeral director whom Tommy had recommended.
Stone felt as if he had been beaten up—stiff and sore and slightly nauseated. He sat up and put his feet on the floor and his head in his hands, then he got up, went into the bathroom and vomited. He wiped his face with a cold washcloth and went out to the porch. Dino and Tommy were sitting there.
“How are you feeling?” Dino asked.
“Lousy, but we have things to do.”
“Everything has been done that can be done,” Dino said. “Go lie down.”
“I can’t,” Stone said. “There’s more to do.”
“What?” Dino asked.
“We’ve got to keep Evan alive,” Stone said.
“He’s okay for the moment,” Tommy said. “Dino and I are both carrying, and you should be, too.”
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“That’s not what I’m talking about. Dino, did you hear my brief conversation with Gigi in the restaurant, right before the shooting?”
“I heard her apologize for hitting you over the head, that’s all.”
“I asked her where she was from, what sort of work she did before she met Evan.”
“I didn’t hear that part, I guess.”
“She said she had sold real estate and boats and that she had started a couple of small businesses. She also said she had been a private investigator for a while, and that’s how she met Evan.”
Dino stared at him. “You’re thinking …”
Stone nodded. “All this time we’ve been trying to connect the dots, trying to figure out who had motive and the connection with Manny White, and we forgot about Gigi.”