Part 10 (1/2)
”Of course, I'm sure everyone would feel a lot better if they caught the killer. Have you heard anything?” I asked.
The bartender placed a rum punch in front of Carter, who immediately removed the slice of orange and tiny umbrella from the rim of the gla.s.s as if they threatened his manhood.
”I haven't heard boo,” he said between two quick sips. ”It's all been very hush-hush. Obviously, the hotel-make that the entire island-doesn't want any more publicity.”
”What about before the murder?”
”How do you mean?” asked Carter.
”I don't know,” I said with a shrug. Nice and easy now, O'Hara. ”Did you notice the couple talking to anyone in particular?”
”No,” he said. ”I only saw them one time. They were having a late dinner at the restaurant here. Very lovey-dovey, keeping to themselves.”
Swing and a miss with my new buddy Carter, I thought. But then I watched as his forehead scrunched up again. This time real tight.
”What are you thinking?” I asked.
”I just remembered something,” he said.
Chapter 15
SPEAK TO ME, Carter.
”I actually did see them one other time,” he said. ”Now that I think about it.”
Carter put down his rum punch, the gla.s.s sweating from the heat, and described how he saw Ethan and Abigail Breslow taking a sunset walk on the beach. He thought it was a day or so before they were murdered. A man walking in the opposite direction had stopped to talk to them.
”You hear the conversation?” I asked, still trying to sound casual and chatty.
”No. They were down by the water and I was right here having a c.o.c.ktail with my wife. All three of them were smiling, but I sensed that Breslow and his new bride were uncomfortable.” He leaned in a bit. ”And not just because the other guy was wearing one of those skimpy Speedo bathing suits.”
”How could you tell they were uncomfortable?”
”Body language,” he answered. ”I'm good at reading people.”
”You a poker player?”
”Yeah, poker and c.r.a.ps, that's what I play. In fact, that's why I'm so surprised I forgot about this guy they were talking to. I'd seen him before...at the casino,” he said. ”s.h.i.+t, I should tell the police about this, shouldn't I?”
I didn't say anything. At least I thought I didn't. But Carter wasn't kidding; he was fluent in body language.
He leaned in again, this time even closer. ”Wait a minute. You're a cop, aren't you?”
”Something like that,” I said.