me. One of my first clients was Beth McIntyre—well, she was Beth Jamison then.”
“Jamison?” My heart rate picks up. “Any relation to Tyler?”
He nods. “She’s Tyler’s younger sister. Now she’s the boss’s wife.”
After I settle up the bill—I insisted on paying for both of our meals—we walk the few blocks to my townhouse to grab some gear. Miguel offers to drive us to the marina in his Mustang.
Half an hour later, we pull into the marina parking lot. Miguel pops the trunk so we can grab our gear.
A silver SUV pulls into the parking spot next to us, and the driver lowers his window. “Hey, Ian!”
I’m surprised to see Roy Valdez here. He opens his door and steps out.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I say. I didn’t know he was into boats. Miguel closes the trunk and casually positions himself beside me.
Valdez laughs. “Yeah, what are the odds?” He eyes Miguel. “I remember you from the club.”
“Miguel’s a friend,” I say. “Miguel, this is Roy Valdez. He’s the owner of Diablo’s.”
Roy nods curtly at Miguel, but he doesn’t offer to shake his hand. Instead, he turns his attention back to me, nodding toward the clubhouse at the far end of the pier. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch.” Roy looks out toward the rows and rows of boats moored in the harbor. “Are you taking your boat out?”
“Yeah. The weather’s too nice to pass up.”
He nods. “Sure is. Have a good time. I hope I’ll see you again soon at the club.”
Miguel watches Roy as he heads toward the clubhouse. Once Roy is out of earshot, he says, “Have you ever seen him here before?”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I heard him hitting on you last night at Diablo’s, and now he just happens to show up at the marina the same time you do? That seems a little too unlikely to be a coincidence.”
“It’s a free country.” I pat Miguel on the back. “Come on, dude. Forget about him.”
We walk down the dock to my boat and step aboard. We climb the steps to the main deck, and then head down into the galley. Miguel does a thorough sweep of the galley and stateroom while I stow our gear in a closet. Miguel follows me back up on deck and up to the cockpit while I begin prepping the boat.
He shadows me as I go through the process of getting the boat ready. I check the electronics and the fuel levels, make sure the engine is primed.
As we climb down from the cockpit, I nudge him with my elbow. “Do you think you can manage the lines?” We’re standing at the railing overlooking the dock, where black nylon ropes secure the boat to the dock.
“Sure.” Just as he’s about to disembark, his phone chimes with an incoming message, and he glances at the screen. “It’s Tyler, asking where we are.” He pauses to respond.
His phone rings almost instantly, and he takes the call. “Hey, detective.” He listens for half a minute, then says “Tyler” in a sharp tone that catches my attention.
I can tell from Miguel’s stiff posture that something’s not right. “Miguel? What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head at me as he continues to listen. Then he says, “Valdez is here at the marina. He pulled into the parking lot right behind us not twenty minutes ago.” He pauses, listening. Then he says, “Yes, he could have followed us here. I wasn’t watching for a tail.”
Miguel’s expression tightens as he glances at me and puts his phone on speaker. “He’s right here beside me, Tyler. Go ahead, you’re on speaker.”
“Where exactly are you guys?” Tyler asks in a clipped voice.
Miguel meets my gaze. “We’re on Ian’s boat.”
“Miguel,” Tyler says. “I want you to get Ian below deck right now. He’s the target. Secure him in the stateroom and stand guard. I’m on my way, with backup.”
“Roger that,” Miguel says as he grabs my arm and steers me toward the steps that lead below deck.
“What’s going on, Tyler?” I say trying not to trip over my own feet as Miguel hustles me along.
“Roy Valdez killed those men, not Brad Turner.” His words are direct, matter of fact. He sounds breathless, as if he’s running. “I’ll explain more later. Right now, get below deck and stay there. I’m on my way.”
After ending the call, Miguel gives me a gentle shove down the steps into the galley. He follows me down and points toward the stateroom. “Get in there and lock the door.” Then