Needless to say, I was shocked and saddened by the news of Maggie O’Halloran’s murder, but the fact that her body was found in the trunk of my car. I mean, whoa, that is some kind of message. Things were definitely heating up, and I’m not gonna lie, I could obviously feel that heat! To whoever was trying to send me a message…I was now reading it loud and clear! If they were expecting me to back-off, they didn’t know me. I’ve been shot at and stabbed and had my ass handed to me numerous times, and that’s before I joined the police department. I’m not going to go into all my injuries while working as a cop or becoming a private detective, but with the damage to my car and now Maggie. I became more determined than ever to get to the bottom of all this shit.
I was in my office reading the paper. On the front page was the story of the Chief’s death and his picture. He was smiling as he usually was. He had an even temperament. His big red Irish face was either smiling or laughing with his big booming laugh you could hear throughout the Hall of Justice. It made me sad to think of those things, and now with his wife dead, there was just a litany of shit running through my head. The story continued on page two, plus there was a photo of the Chief and Maggie with his arm around her as they both smiled broadly while standing on a sailboat.
Sailboat! Did I even know they had a sailboat? A quick call to Macias confirmed that the Chief did indeed own a sailboat. What if those elusive photos were stashed somewhere on that sailboat? Then I thought - fuck! Those fucking photographs! We have four people dead. I think I need to get my goddamn priorities straight and like right now! The photos may be connected to at least two if not three of deaths. I need to find out who’s killing these people. Maybe more than one person is responsible.
I wheeled my chair around to look out on the bay. It was a gorgeous day, and the bay was covered with sailboats of varying sizes. Jet skis were dashing in and around sailboats, which I’m sure was pissing off the sailboat captains. I looked over toward the Yacht Harbor, where most self-important “Yachties” berthed their vessels. I thought the possibility of those photos being on that boat convinced me I needed to make a quick trip over there to find out.
Whoever is in those photographs might lead me to the killer or killers. I borrowed Emma’s car and drove over to see if I could find the Chief’s boat. I noticed from the photo of Maggie and the Chief that the name on the stern of the boat read Lady of Erin. It looked to be at least thirty feet or more in length. Emma talked me into taking a pager with me. It was all new to me - these pager things. Just as I arrived at the harbor, the damn pager began buzzing. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop. It was Emma asking me to call her. I was attempting to disregard the page, then another one came saying Emergency. Shit! Now, I needed to find a phone. Then I thought what I really need is a drink.
(To be cont’d)