“Not a problem,” Derby said. “Well, not for me, but I did tell my wife when she was headed to bingo, so I’m not sure who else knows that I saw Miguel by now. If you have any more questions, I live catty-corner across the street.”
Brett thanked him again and looked at Diego.
“Miguel Gomez is alive after all,” Diego said.
“And he killed his wife?” Brett said, puzzled. “I just can’t believe that Miguel Gomez would have killed the woman he loved so much.”
“Zombies kill anyone,” Diego said lightly.
Brett looked at his partner.
“Sorry,” Diego said. “But you know it’s going to hit the news. By now everyone at bingo knows that one way or another, Miguel came back from the dead, and if they don’t know by now that his wife’s been killed, they will soon. I’ll go try a few more houses, find out if anyone else saw Miguel.”
* * *
Being in the water with Cocoa was an incredible high. Lara couldn’t remember when she’d felt quite so exhilarated. She’d done “flipper shakes,” dancing, dorsal pulls, splashing and more. Now they were playing with toys.
First she threw balls and rings. Then Rick told her that Cocoa was great at diving and finding things by sight, so they often sent her down to find anything someone had accidentally dropped.
“Guests use their phones and iPads as cameras on the docks and sometimes even on the platforms,” he told her. “But whatever they drop, Cocoa will find it. Not that your average cell phone still works after a dip in the lagoon, but Cocoa will bring them back up. Here, I’ll show you how good she is.”
“You going to sacrifice your cell phone?” she asked skeptically.
“No,” he assured her. “I have some little boxes that sink, same general size as a phone or a small camera. Cocoa has picked up lots of cameras, and a purse or two, as well. Here, I’ll show you. Take the box. Drop it, and then twirl your hand like this—” he demonstrated “—and say, ‘Cocoa, will you get that for me, please?’”
Lara did as Rick instructed. Cocoa was great, chattering her pleasure each time she made a retrieval.
“Shouldn’t I be giving her a fish?” Lara asked. “She’s done all her tricks, so doesn’t she get a reward?”
“Do you give a dog a treat every time you see it? Or do you let it know how much you care by petting it?”
“So I should just stroke her?”
“Yes, give her a nice stroke along the back, and then, when we’re finished, we’ll give her some fish.”
Lara tossed the boxes, first one, and then another. Rick told her to give specific vocal commands, asking Cocoa to get the big box or the little one.
It was amazing the way the dolphin responded.
“She’s brilliant!” Lara told him.
“I agree. She’s my girl, but she sure likes you.”
So I actually have a real friend in Miami, Lara thought wryly.
She happily tossed boxes and asked Cocoa to bring them up, and Cocoa kept complying.
Then she went down and came up with something else. It was on the tip of her nose, and she nudged it toward Lara.
“Not a box,” Lara murmured. “Cocoa, what did you find down there?”
She accepted the pale sticklike thing Cocoa gave her. She looked at it, confused for several seconds.
Then she screamed and it flew from her hand.
Back into the water.
She’d realized what it was.
A human finger.
Brett stood glumly listening to Dr. Phil Kinny explain that Maria had died sometime between ten and twelve the previous night. She’d died quickly, at least; her neck had been cleanly snapped on impact with the old banyan tree.
“Didn’t it take a lot of strength for someone to toss her that far?” Brett asked.
Kinny shrugged. “Yeah. But I’ve seen people do amazing things under certain circumstances. Adrenaline is something we have yet to fully explain. I’ve seen a tiny woman lift a three-hundred-pound man once. It was a kidnapping attempt. He was lying on top of her baby.”
“But did a zombie do it?” Diego asked. Brett glared at him, and Diego shrugged. “Hey, I’m friends with the cops who were first on-site the night of the latest ‘zombie’ attack. They told me the guy had bullets in his head and kept moving. That’s pretty incredible.”
“Incredible, yes—but he did go down,” Brett said. “Miguel is not a zombie. Someone died in that fire. We assumed it was Miguel, but apparently it wasn’t. Because if you try to tell me that ash can reconstitute itself into a zombie, I’ll tell you that you’re full of crap.”
“Maybe Miguel’s ghost is walking around,” Kinny said.
“Do you really believe that?” Brett asked.
“No. Besides, to the best of my knowledge, ghosts don’t kill anyone. They’re ethereal, ectoplasm or whatever.”
“You’re a scientist and a doctor—and you believe in ghosts?” Brett asked him.
Kinny brushed back his hair, watching as his assistants carefully removed Maria Gomez’s body from the banyan tree. “It’s because I’m a scientist—a doctor—that I said what I said. Energy never dies. Where it goes, we don’t know. I’m a skeptic with an open mind, how’s that? Also, I’ve been in rooms with the dead when I’ve felt something. Call me a hopeful believer. But in this case I’m with you, Brett. Miguel Gomez may well be alive. There wasn’t enough left to get DNA. That warehouse burned hotter than hell itself. Everything we have is essentially circumstantial, so who knows?”
Brett’s phone was vibrating in his jacket pocket. He quickly answered it to discover that it was his supervisor, Special Agent in Charge Marshall. “We’ve gotten a curious call. I know you’re at the Gomez house, but I thought you two might want in on this. A human finger was found at the Sea Life Center. One of the dolphins picked it up.”
“A finger?” Brett said. The population in South Florida had exploded in the past several decades, and with the higher population came a higher crime rate. That meant that far too often bodies—and body parts—were found in unexpected places.
He wasn’t sure why he and Diego were being called to investigate a finger. Not that a finger was a good thing to find.
“You want us to check out a finger?” he asked.
“Yeah, check it out. With Miguel and now Maria dead, I think the Barillo family is sending out lots of warnings. I want you to find out who that finger belonged to, and I want to know if there are more parts to go with it. You’re scuba certified, so I want you in the water. I’ll get dive equipment out to you. You and Diego are on this now, too, and I want you taking lead.”
Brett was silent.
He’d wanted in on Miguel’s case before. He’d felt he’d owed the man because he’d brought him to the Bureau, and now Maria was dead, too. Now he owed them both.
But his boss wasn’t taking him off the case, he reminded himself. He could still help find them justice. He was just taking on another case, too.
He wasn’t sure about how a finger in the water was connected with Barillo, Miguel and the dead woman in the banyan tree, but he was going to find out. He had worked with dive units before, so he supposed it was a good call.