Eric grinned and accepted a cup of coffee from Michelle as she rejoined them. “I didn’t have to. It’s amazing what happens when you come up the Interstate at a hundred and ten. They appear from everywhere. You know that as well as I do, Doug. It works every time.”
Corfe stared at him in astonishment. “You—” Then he caught sight of another figure close by. “Ah, Lieutenant Shelvy, I do believe. Lieutenant, let me introduce Ms. Michelle Lang—real and in the flesh. Alive and well too, thanks to these guys.”
The lieutenant held up both hands. “Okay, okay. All I can say is that situations like today aren’t exactly part of the manual. What else can I tell you?” He looked away as another officer approached. “Excuse me. What is it, Des?”
“Everyone seems to be accounted for except two: the owner, Mr. Payne; and one of the guests, a Mrs. Heber.”
“None of the boats picked anyone up on the other side?”
“No. I just checked.”
Eric lowered the cup from his mouth and turned to stare at the inferno. “Oh, my God!” he whispered, genuinely horrified, despite the circumstances.
Shelvy’s eyes flickered over him uncertainly for a second. “I take it she is your wife, Mr. Heber?” he said. His voice was professional, detached, but in an appropriately lowered tone. Eric nodded, his eyes invisible behind the flames reflecting off his spectacles.
There was a moment of heavy silence. Then Shelvy said, “Look, there’s really nothing more you can do here. I understand what you people have been through, but we will be needing full statements and some other details cleared up back at headquarters. If there’s any further news, you’ll be informed right away.”
Eric looked away, then nodded again. “Yes, of course. I understand. Will it be all right to use my car?”
“Sure. I don’t think we need worry about that. You can follow one of our guys. Des, can you find someone to go back with Mr. Heber?”
“Sure.” The other officer called to somewhere past the van. “Hey, Stan, can you get over here?”
“Kevin, Doug, Michelle, you can ride with me.” Eric looked inquiringly at Shelvy. “I assume that’s all right, Lieutenant?” Shelvy nodded, and then was called away to take a radio call. “Maybe you’d better stay with your uncle,” Eric told Taki. Taki nodded. The officer called Des turned back to them.
“Which is your car, Mr. Heber?”
“Oh, it’s back that way in the other yard—a maroon Jaguar.” Eric indicated with an arm. They began walking in a group toward the gate. “What about the others?” he asked Des.
“Oh, they’ll all show up there too in good time. It’s gonna be a busy evening.” He laid a hand lightly on Kevin’s shoulder in a way that was intended to be comforting. “Sorry about your mom, son. But it’s not all over yet. Give it a bit more time. You can never be too sure of these things.”
“She’s my stepmother,” Kevin said.
“Oh. . . . Okay.”
“Which way?” Michelle halted, then looked back at Eric.
Eric pointed, then stopped and looked about as if he might have made a mistake. He shook his head bemusedly.
“What?” Corfe said.
“It’s gone.”
Michelle looked around. “It can’t be, surely not.”
Eric pointed. “It was there. I’m certain of it.”
Kevin walked forward and stared down at the space that Eric had indicated. A trail of puddles and wetness on the concrete led toward the edge of the quay. He followed it to the top of steps leading down, then turned and waved for the others to come over. At the bottom of the steps was a jetty with an inflatable outboard tied up loosely to a stanchion. Painted along the front was the name Princess Dolores.
Eric gazed at it, then back at where the car had been. He dipped his hand in his pocket and produced his keys. The others stared at them. Eric waited silently, inviting them to form their own conclusion.
If he still had his keys, it could only mean . . .
Vanessa clipped a red light at the west end of Nickerson Street, prompting a blast on the horn from a pickup that had been just moving off. “Ease up, for God’s sake,” Payne rasped at her irritably. “We’re clear enough now. All we need is to get hauled up for a speeding ticket after all this.”