Free The Girl on the Yacht by Thomas Donahue, Karen Donahue Page B

said.
    Fellow boaters along their path avoided eye contact, each of them trapped in their own world of sadness. Marin spotted the multi-tasking Cameron making entries into her iPad, while she marched steadily toward them.
    Most people had the warm and sunny Saturday off, but Cameron West had homicide investigation stamped on her time card. A few feet away, she glanced up at Marin, “We need to talk.” Without slowing her pace, she led the way back to John’s boat and stopped short of entering the salon. “John, can you wait out here for a few minutes?”
    Cameron closed the door after they went in and focused on Marin. “I know I said you could follow my next case for your research, but––”
    “I’d really like to help. I’m familiar with boats––maybe I can contribute some small detail that proves helpful in your investigation. And, John knows everyone and just about anything you want to know about the marina. He could be helpful, too.”
    “I don’t know anything about the docks or boats––maybe you can.” Cameron tapped the screen and scanned her notes. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
    To change direction, Marin asked, “What did you find out so far?”
    “I noticed unique bruises around the victim’s neck consistent with a unique type of chokehold. I think we’ll find she was dead before she went into the water––the M. E. thinks so, too.”
    “What do you mean—specific chokehold?”
    “It’s one used by trained professionals.”
    “Trained professionals? You make it sound like killers go through a training program,” Marin said.
    “Well, in a sense. This specific technique lifts the victim off their feet, rendering them silent. Death comes quickly. It’s taught to special ops insertion teams. There have even been recent reports out of Pakistan that terrorists have picked up these deadly skills in their training camps.”
    “Laura’s final moments must have been horrible,” Marin said. “How do you deal with this all the time?”
    “I never get used to it, but I focus on following the leads.” Cameron paced in the salon—the living room of the yacht.
    “What are you thinking at this point?”
    “It doesn’t appear to be random, that’s all I know.”
    “How did you come to that conclusion?”
    “Professional killer.”
    “So, a professional killer murdered a local psychiatrist?”
    “It means she pissed off somebody with those type of connections—and deep pockets––that’s who we have to find.”
    Marin nodded and walked to the door. “Where do you start?”
    “I want to talk to Raphael Montoya about his run in with Dan. I need to know what really went down with Laura and him,” Cameron said.
    “I’ve never met the actor. Maybe John can help us there.” Marin bent down and unhooked Bailey’s leash. “Stay, Bay.” She reached for the door.
    Cameron stopped her hand.
    “I don’t want a lot of civilians involved. With your background, I know you’ll be discrete with anything we discuss.”
    “John just wants to help. He could save you some legwork.”
    “Tell you what. He can fill me in on the people and introduce them to me. But, he can’t be in on the interviews.”
    Marin nodded and opened the door.
    “John, Cameron would like you to fill her in on Raphael, Dan, and Laura.”
    “No problem. But, nobody here did this.”
    “I have to look at everyone.” Cameron gave Marin a look that suggested she was totally apprehensive about John’s participation.
    He stepped through the entry and walked over to the bar. He popped open the ice-maker, grasped a handful of cubes, and plunked them into the crystal old-fashioned glass. “What do you need to know?”
    “Tell me about Montoya. How do you know him? Do you think he had an affair with Laura?”
    “Well, I met Rafe when I pulled my first boat into the marina––it was six, maybe seven years ago. He had that old fishing boat next to my slip, and I had an older boat.” John let out a single