Wild Tide: A Coastal Caribbean Adventure (Tyson Wild Thriller Book 4) by Tripp Ellis

Author:Tripp Ellis [Ellis, Tripp]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tripp Ellis
Published: 2019-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

19

JD stayed on the dock to keep an eye out for Phelps.

I scaled the transom of the Beeracuda and stepped into the salon with Tillman.

"I noticed a few places that looked like they had been repaired,” Tillman said. “They’d done a pretty good job, but there had clearly been some damage to the hull. I pulled this out of a bulkhead."

He reached into a drawer in the galley and pulled out a twisted bullet that he had fished out of the fiberglass. He handed it to me.

My blood boiled.

I was holding in my hand a bullet that could have killed either of my parents.

At least I had something to go on. I could take the bullet back to the crime lab where it could be analyzed and cross-referenced against the database. Maybe it would match something, maybe it wouldn't? But I felt like I was one step closer to finding out who had murdered my parents.

"Thanks,” I said. “This is helpful. You mind if I hang on to this."

"Keep it. It's yours,” Tillman said. "Do you mind telling me what happened here?"

"I don't think you want to know."

Rory thought about it for a moment. "You're right. I probably don't."

“If you find any more items like this, let me know.”

I wrote my number down on a piece of paper for him, thanked him for his time, and rejoined JD on the dock.

I turned back to Tillman. “You don't happen to know Nick Phelps, do you?"

Tillman rolled his eyes. "He's out here every Saturday and Sunday.”

“I take it you don’t think much of him?”

“He's an abrasive personality. Let's just keep it at that."

I thanked him again, and JD and I strolled down the dock. About an hour later, Phelps pulled into the marina.

We approached as he tied off the lines.

"Mr. Phelps," I said, holding my badge in the air. "I'm Deputy Wild, this is Deputy Donovan. Coconut County Sheriff's Department. We’d like to have a word with you."

A sour look twisted on his face. "I've got nothing to say to you."

JD and I exchanged a glance.

"Besides, aren't you two a little out of your jurisdiction?"

"We just want to talk to you about Glenn Parker."

His sour look turned even more so. "I don't have anything nice to say about that guy."

"When was the last time you were in Coconut Key?" I asked.

His gaze turned curious. "Why?"

"Parker's dead."

He chuckled. "Good."

"When was the last time you saw Parker?"

"Like I said, I don't have anything to say to you. Talk to my attorney."

Theoretically, that's where our line of questioning had to end. I gritted my teeth, and JD frowned.

"We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way," I said. "We can come back with a warrant."

"Good luck with that. On what grounds?"

At this point we didn't have any probable cause.

"I know my rights,” Phelps barked. “And you two can go fuck yourselves!”

Phelps locked up the cabin, stepped off the boat, and strolled away down the dock.

JD leaned in and muttered to me.

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