Free Death By Sunken Treasure (A Hayden Kent Mystery Book 2) by Kait Carson Page A

would handle that and the kind of hearing that would be required. I also told him we were advertising for the witnesses to the will. As delicately as possible, I asked him if he had any information about who they might be. So far, he told me, they hadn’t uncovered any information, but he confirmed they were looking for the witnesses too.
    Just as I thought the interview was drawing to a close, Deputy Diego asked, “How different are the two wills to Mike Terry’s prior will documents?”
    The question startled me. Part of me had expected it. Part of me had feared it. This bordered on client privilege. None of Mike’s prior documents were public information. I didn’t want to cut off my own potential information source, but there was no way I could answer. I stumbled through a response that I couldn’t explain, but perhaps Grant could give him more guidance. He seemed resigned that he’d gotten all I could give. That’s when he moved on to the question I had anticipated.
    “Do you have any information about the second set of beneficiaries?”
    I decided to offer a provocative response. “You spoke with Buddy Smith. He might be the better source.” It was a dangerous ploy and I knew it. Unless he knew how our practice worked, he wouldn’t know how involved I was in the will investigation. Now I was putting him on notice that I too was speaking with people.
    “Yes, but that’s only his point of view. I am asking for yours.” The response surprised me. I expected him to caution me, say something about staying out of a police investigation. Anything other than to semi-acknowledge that he knew I had been asking questions.
    “I don’t know much,” I answered honestly. “Dana, of course, but you knew that. Other than her, I’ve never met the rest. Devon and I went to the same school, but I was in grade school when he was in high school. All the girls in my class were in love with him, mostly because of his swim team success.” Newspaper photos of Devon in his Speedo flashed in my memory. No doubt about it. He was cute and smart. “In those days, his name was Devon Patterson.” Something about his sharp intake of breath told me he didn’t know that. I didn’t know when Devon Patterson became Devon Rutherford. If there was a story there, I hadn’t heard it. I made a note to find out.
    “Deputy Diego, may I ask you why I’m hearing that this investigation has ramped up?”
    His response was slick and fast.
    “Standard procedure. The man’s last weeks were very…interesting. He turns up with two wills in the space of a day and he’s found dead two days later.” 
    A ruffling sound came through the phone earpiece, like the cop was thumbing through pages of a notebook. Just how much of an investigation had he done at this early date?
    “Hopefully the ME will be able to narrow the time of death. No one reported him missing, but his girlfriend says the last time she saw him was Friday morning when he left the house.”
    I latched on to that bit of information and shook it like a terrier. “Why didn’t she report him missing? He was gone for more than two days.” I knew forty-eight hours was the minimum for an adult missing person in Florida without exceptional circumstances. He was too young to qualify for a Silver Alert.
    “Nothing sinister. The search and salvage vessel is quite comfortable. He often spent nights on board. Thank you for your time.”
    He was gone before I could point out that the treasure site was well within the cell phone service area. How likely was it that Mike would have spent time at sea and not called anyone?

Ten

      
    The conversation with Deputy Diego left me unsettled. I realized I had given far more information than I had received. At least I knew the ME report was almost final. I made a note about that. Then it occurred to me that I hadn’t asked for the preliminary report. Was it something in there that sparked the sudden activity in Mike’s