“Because we knew that what we had on him was just the tip of the iceberg. We knew he’d bribed others, he bragged about it to me. But then Tanya started threatening to report him to the feds. Somehow, she knew about me, even knew my name, although she didn’t know I was actually undercover law enforcement. We didn’t know where she was getting her information. Wingfield was worried. He told me he’d begun thinking of ways to shut her up.…”

“And yet you still didn’t think it was time to pull the plug?” Joe shook his head. “Christ!”

“The bureau acts at its own speed,” Vikki said. “We were getting closer, and then, well, out of the blue, Tanya was killed and her kid vanished.”

“Murdered by Evan Wingfield.”

“We assume so, yes. He was there that day. Told the detectives they’d argued, but she was alive when he left. He’s been proclaiming his innocence very loudly and very publicly. And blaming Letty Carnahan.”

“I hope you’re not buying that bullshit,” DeCurtis said.

“The NYPD is investigating the murder aspect. But we know that Letty was at her sister’s brownstone the afternoon Tanya was killed. Witnesses placed her there. Security cameras placed her there. She grabbed the kid, took her sister’s car, and fled. Why didn’t she come to the police with her suspicions? You gotta admit, the optics aren’t good.”

“I don’t know about the optics,” Joe said. “I only know when she arrived here, she was clearly terrified. I was suspicious at first, sure. I’m a cop.”

“You knew that authorities were searching for the kid. And you also knew Scarlett Carnahan was wanted for questioning in her sister’s death, but you still didn’t notify police in New York?” Agent Hill’s voice was sharp. “Ever hear of obstruction of justice? Or doesn’t that count down here in Florida?”

“I didn’t know she was a fugitive at first,” Joe said. “That morning she arrived here, all I had was suspicions. Anyway, my mother was not going to turn away a woman with a little kid in tow. As for Letty, we’ve gotten to know her. My mother trusted her enough to give her a job at the motel. She saved one of our guests’ life, when he was having a heart attack. She actually jumped on a meth head I was trying to arrest, kept the woman from cracking my skull with a baseball bat. Take it from me, that woman is not a murderer. She’s just not.”

“Has she said anything to you about what brought her down here?”

“No,” he admitted. “She’s intentionally vague about those kind of details, but who can blame her? Anyway, a few days after she arrived I put two and two together. Now I’ve got a pretty good idea of why she showed up at the Murmuring Surf.”