Page 70 of Wild Wolf
"We have other priority cases we need to work."
Daniels knew better. "Carolyn Quinn still hasn't been found. But the Coast Guard has resumed the search."
"Let me know the minute they find her.”
“I will. Now get something solid on this scumbag.”
"We have a little issue. Jack has a show this evening.”
"So, watch the kid until then.”
"You got it.”
JD and I made our way back to the Porsche. We drove around and parked by the exit to the parking garage. It wasn’t going to be glamorous, but we sat there and waited for Oren to make a move.
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After a few hours, we were both tired of sitting in the car. We still had plenty of time to get up to Oyster Avenue for sound check, but the day would tick away fast.
The band was scheduled to go on at 9:30 PM and play until 11. With the noise ordinance, things would have to be shut down at that time. We were scheduled to do a sound check at 4:30 PM.
We’d been working with the same sound guy forever, so he knew the ins and outs of the Wild Fury show and how everybody liked their levels. Still, it was always a good idea to have a dry run before getting on stage in front of a huge crowd of people.
It was close to noon by the time Oren pulled out of the parking garage in his black Corsa.
Jack fired up the Porsche and pulled away from the curb, tailing him from a distance. We hung back and let a few cars get in between us and the suspect.
We followed as he weaved through the city and made his way over to the Mangrove Bay Marina. Oren pulled into the lot and found a place to park close to the dock.
JD pulled in behind him, keeping his distance. We drove to the other side of the parking lot. Oren didn't know what car Jack drove, but it wouldn’t be hard to recognize us.
Oren climbed out of the car, popped the hatch, then glanced around the parking lot with cautious eyes.
There wasn't much activity in the marina at the time, and I don't think he saw us.
He unloaded a large rolling suitcase from the hatchback, closed the lid, and rolled the luggage down the dock. He kept his head on a swivel, but nobody paid him much attention.
The roller case was oversized—big enough for a werewolf suit.
Oren wheeled it to the edge of the dock, then tossed it in the water with a splash. The sunlight shimmered the water.
It must have been weighted down, or the costume was heavy and not buoyant. A few bubbles escaped through the zipper before it sank to the bottom.
The perp gave another glance around, then walked back to his car, hopped in, and drove away.
JD and I climbed out of the Porsche and jogged down the dock to secure the evidence. We held up at the edge of the water. It was only about 10 to 15 feet deep at best. The water was clear, and it was easy to see the case at the bottom. I could have called the dive team, but I didn’t want to wasteany time. We didn’t have any to spare. I pulled off my shirt and shoes, emptied my pockets, and dove into the water.
With lungs full of air, I pulled myself to the bottom, grabbed the case by the handle, then swam to the surface. The damn thing was heavy, and by the clanking inside, Oren had definitely weighted it down.
JD helped me fish it out of the water. He pulled it onto the dock.
I climbed out and dripped dry as he unzipped it. We opened the case with anticipation.
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The guy duped us.
Inside the suitcase were a couple of 10-pound weights and a bunch of old clothes.
