Charlie held out his badge. “FBI. We regret to inform you that your son has been murdered. Your daughter-in-law pushed him overboard approximately three hours ago, in the middle of the ocean.”

Mr. Techer snorted. “David’s not dead. He’s sleeping down below.”

“Mr. Techer,” Kelly said gently. “David’s not aboard your boat. Both my partner and I saw Amy push him overboard not long after you left Catalina. We were trailing you and we attempted to rescue David but we were too late.” She added, “I’m very sorry to have to tell you this.”

Mr. Techer looked to Amy. “What are they talking about?”

She gestured helplessly. “I don’t know. Gilbert woke me up a few minutes ago. David wasn’t there.”

Gilbert appeared on deck. “I can’t find David anywhere.”

Mr. Techer was bitter. “Who are you people to come here at this time of night?”

“We’re two of the agents assigned to the kidnapping of your grandson,” Charlie said. “We were trailing your party tonight because we’ve suspected for some time that your daughter-in-law was personally involved with the kidnappers. We have no direct proof of that at this time, and it may have nothing to do with the murder of your son. But we’re here to arrest her.” He drew his gun and pulled out his handcuffs. “Amy Techer, you are under arrest for the murder of your husband, David Techer. Please put out your arms while I handcuff you and read you your rights.”

You have the right to remain silent. You have the right of an attorney. If you cannot afford one … Mr. Techer tried to stop Charlie from cuffing Amy but Kelly held him back. Mr. Techer shouted that he would find Amy a lawyer and get to the bottom of this nonsense. Amy cast the old man a pleading look as Charlie and Kelly led her away. Kelly wondered what the deal was between those two. She stayed close to Amy’s side as they walked toward the parking lot. Two black-and-whites had arrived. Charlie had made the arrest because he had supposedly witnessed the crime, but as Amy’s offense did not yet fall under FBI jurisdiction, she would be turned over to the LAPD.

“You know I had nothing to do with the kidnapping of my son,” Amy hissed.

“I advise you to remain silent,” Kelly replied.

“You know!”

Kelly couldn’t resist. “I know more than you dream. You’re going to fry, girl.”

VICKI HAD Kelly and Charlie in a room at the police station in Santa Monica. The type of box where prisoners were interrogated. The walls peeled green and the overhead light could have been used in an epileptic test center. Vicki made them repeat their story several times. Kelly did not appreciate the harsh treatment but Charlie played it cool. At least Vicki was not taping. She had some sense of loyalty.