“Drex.”
The soft-spoken voice brought him around to Gif. “It’s not official yet,” he said, “but they’re all but certain it’s Elaine Conner.”
Drex felt as though his breastbone would crack and his chest cave in. From anguish over Elaine. And guilt-ridden relief that it wasn’t Talia. He turned back to the railing, braced his hands on the weathered wood, and bent double, taking deep breaths through his mouth.
Gif let him have a full minute before continuing. “People in the marina saw the yacht leaving the harbor, wondered why anybody would be going out in weather like this. According to several witnesses, there, uh, there was a man at the wheel.”
“Jasper.”
“Unidentified.”
“It was Jasper.” Drex took one last deep breath and stood up straight. “While he had us looking the other way, he must have come straight here from the airport and boarded the yacht.” Turning only his head, he looked sternly at Gif. His friend knew the question he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t work up enough courage.
Gif raised his shoulders, looking apologetic. “It’s unknown if anyone else besides the man and Elaine were onboard.”
What went unspoken was that the last time Talia was seen, she had been in the company of her husband, but whether as a victim or an accomplice remained unknown. As though following Drex’s thoughts, Gif said, “The authorities have had no indication of another casualty, so the search is being referred to as a rescue, not a recovery.”
Drex stared out across the water. “They may find Talia, or her body,” he said in a voice scratchy with emotion. “But if they search till Doomsday, they won’t find a trace of him.” He pushed off the railing, turned, and started walking with determination toward the steps leading down. “The fucker can swim.”
He was pleased with his new appearance.
True, Howard Clement wasn’t as dashing as Jasper Ford, husband to Talia Shafer, friend to Elaine Conner, member in good standing of an exclusive country club, snappy dresser, and connoisseur of fine wine and cuisine.
But his new look and persona would do. He would never be recognized among the crowd of gawkers on the pier who watched as Elaine became a headline, her life reduced to a sound bite.
However, that was more notoriety than most people got. When looked at that way, Jasper had done her a favor. He had attained for her in death the attention she craved in life.
Her exuberance had been annoying at times, especially when his investment advice paid off in large dividends. On those occasions the two of them celebrated privately. Often Elaine had urged him to let Talia join in. He had refused.
“She’s a conservative investor and would never dare to take the gambles you do, Elaine.” Elaine had preened over that.
He didn’t have a one hundred percent accuracy rate, of course. Whenever his advice resulted in a loss, Elaine had accepted it philosophically, patted his cheek, told him she loved him anyway, then had asked where she should next put her money.
He would trot out inch-thick analyses of various investment opportunities in the US as well as in foreign markets. He would excite her with projections, then dampen that excitement by enumerating the risks. He’d enticed her with estimated yields, but cautioned her to give serious consideration to the volatility of international trade in an unstable diplomatic climate.
Her attention span had been that of a gnat. She’d been easily confused by the vernacular and eventually overwhelmed by the volume of information. “Oh, just pick one and handle it for me.”
Actually, it had been almost too easy. He’d grown a bit bored with her. Ever cheerful and optimistic, she’d rarely challenged anything he proposed.
That was up until tonight. He had called and told her about a squabble between Talia and him that had culminated in the cancellation of a getaway. He’d asked if Elaine would meet him on the Laney Belle. “I need a stiff drink and a good friend.”
He’d been assured that she would gladly provide both.
She’d welcomed him aboard with a sympathetic hug and an open bottle of bourbon. But when he suggested that they take a short cruise, she had balked. The weather wasn’t ideal, she’d said. They couldn’t sightsee with the mist so heavy, and the forecast was for conditions to worsen, not improve. She would rather err on the side of safety and keep the Laney Belle snug in the marina.
On and on, she’d whined, whined, whined until he’d wanted to strangle her. She hadn’t given in until he announced—irritably—that his coming to her for consolation after his quarrel with Talia had been a bad idea, that he was leaving.
“Oh, all right. But only for a little while.”
He’d promised to make it quick. That was a promise she had forced him to break.
He’d persuaded her to let him pilot the boat out of the marina because she’d had several drinks. He’d seen to it that she had two more before suggesting that they give the dinghy a test run.
“Tonight? Talia would scalp me if I let you do that.”
“That’s the point,” he’d said, giving her a conspiratorial wink. “She would never allow it. She’s afraid of the water, you know. Let’s misbehave and do it while she’s not looking.”
Elaine had been unable to resist the thought of misbehavior.