Jason gaped. He latched on to the one piece of information he could understand. “Monitoring my calls? They can’t do that.”
“Small town PDs have their own way of policing.”
“I wasn’t under arrest. And even if I had been, they have zero legal right.” It was outrageous, but given everything else that happened, Jason was having trouble drumming up the energy for suitable protest.
“What the hell went down on that island?”
Jason gave the bare bones, and Kennedy’s frown grew blacker and blacker.
“Jesus Christ.” Kennedy was silent for a moment after Jason finished his recital. “You should have called for backup, West. You had no idea what you were walking into. You could have b—” He broke off.
Jason gave him a quick, disbelieving look. “Really? You think I should have called the sheriffs to see whether Shipka had left the island? Because for all I knew, that was the case.”
Kennedy gave him a dark look, but they both knew Jason was right. He had no reason to expect the worst, and once he understood what the worst was, he was already on scene and committed.
Typically, Kennedy wasted no additional time on debate—let alone sympathy. It probably didn’t occur to him Jason might have found the events of the previous night extraordinarily stressful. “Why didn’t they question you at the scene?”
“They did.”
“Then why were you taken into custody?”
“The suspicion that I was out here conducting an investigation without letting local PD know what was happening on their home front?”
“A turf war?”
“I’m not sure. Another possibility is someone phoned Barnaby Durrand, and he told them to keep me on ice.”
Kennedy’s brows rose in not-so-polite skepticism. “You think Durrand is behind this?”
“I told you Shipka believed the Durrands were behind the disappearance
of Paris Havemeyer. I’m not sure how Shipka spent the day, but I know he planned on interviewing at least one resident. Maybe Durrand got wind of his investigation.”
It sounded unlikely even to Jason’s ears, and Kennedy looked equally unconvinced. “The real threat to Durrand would be the FBI’s investigation, so why take out Shipka and not you?”
Jason shook his head. “I’ll tell you one thing. I think whoever locked me in that crypt went after Shipka.”
Kennedy grunted noncommittally.
The problem was, Jason couldn’t really picture Barnaby going after someone with a machete or whatever weapon had been used on Shipka either. Besides, he’d been horrified at the news of Kerk’s death. Horrified and…flabbergasted. Yeah, he’d been genuinely shocked to learn of Kerk’s murder. It was hard to believe he’d have turned around and vented homicidal rage on Shipka.
“No,” Kennedy said, coming to his own conclusion. “They took you into custody because you’re the most likely suspect.”
“What? How do you figure that? What the hell is my motive?”
Kennedy’s glance was impatient. “You know cases aren’t built on motive. Motive is icing on the cake. The cake is opportunity and means. You were staying next door to Shipka in a rental cottage full, I’m guessing, of knives and other suitable weapons. There’s your opportunity and means.”
Jason had already worked all this out for himself, and yet he still felt outraged at the idea that anyone could seriously suspect him of homicide.
“Why wouldn’t I just shoot him?”
“With your own service weapon?” Kennedy shook his head. “Add in the fact that you’re the only person who knew Shipka, and it’s pretty obvious why you were taken into custody.” As though that finalized it, he turned the key in the ignition, and the sedan returned to life with an impatient roar.
They drove, unspeaking, down a couple of shady blocks. Kennedy was preoccupied with his own thoughts, and Jason was simply numb. But when they pulled into the parking lot of a small hotel facing the water, he said, “I’ve got to get out to that island.”
Meeting Kennedy’s gaze, he said, “All my stuff is out there. My laptop. Which contains my case notes on Fletcher-Durrand.”
“If you’re worried about Durrand’s interference, the area will be crawling with sheriff deputies. If you’re worried about the sheriff’s office, even these yahoos know that laptop is the property of the federal government.”