“You think he had the tiara, since he died in a freak accident?”
Everett gave the Dodge more gas. “No, because his fingerprints were in the wrong spot. There’s no good reason a guard would be on the inside of the vault with the door closed.”
Ivy could think up a number of scenarios when a guard might close the vault door from the inside, but she let it slide. She was fairly certain that Everett believed in the curse, whether he would admit it or not. And if this John Starling was cursed, it meant that he also possessed the tiara.
The Starlings lived in St. Augustine South, not far from the Matanzas River. Everett parked on the street. A dive boat with a ratty canvas cover took up most of the driveway. Ivy could see dust and road dirt on the dingy fiberglass. One of the tires on the trailer was flat. The boat hadn’t been anywhere near the water for a while.
Linda-Lou Starling, John’s sister, was a wan, freckled ginger. She wore a tie-dye summer dress and flip-flops, hair in a low ponytail. She gave Everett a thorough going over with her eyes. “You’re the man who called about my brother?”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“C’mon in. Mama’s at work, but you can ask me, I reckon.”
Ivy put Linda-Lou at maybe twenty years old, tops, definitely out of high school, but just. There were high school senior photos on the wall in the parlor verifying her estimate, and one of a young man in an army dress uniform she took to be John. Linda-Lou pointed to it.
“That’s him. It was so sad. Just when he was getting his life together.”
“It fell apart at some time.” Everett, always with the non-question questions.
Linda-Lou nodded. “Daddy left with a rental agent gal down at the Enterprise when we were little. Johnny fell in with a bad crowd. Judge offered him military or juvie.”
“Army straightened him out.”
The young woman’s face brightened. “Oh, it did, it really did. When he got out, he found himself a real good job right away. He even met a nice girl. They were planning on getting hitched, he said, right after they came into some money he was expecting.”
Ivy gave Everett a look. He raised a brow.
“But then, that horrible accident.” Linda-Lou’s face squished in sorrow.
“He was hit by a garbage truck?” Ivy had to ask.
“Hell no, worse than that. See, Johnny just bought that boat out in the drive. It was used, but nice, y’know? He wanted to take me and some of the neighbor kids out on it. But they were jumping bikes off a ramp back in the alley. John, you know, being the former army guy and buying boats and such, he had to show them kids how it was done.
“So he borrows Miguel’s BMX and rides it way back down the alley to get a good start. I told him that he shouldn’t go too fast, not without a helmet. But then he came racing as fast as he could. Caught some real air when he hit the ramp.” Linda-Lou pressed her lips together and shook her head in admiration.
“But he come down front wheel first, and he got thrown, a real endo. At the other end of the alley, that garbage truck was pulling away. John crashed right into it. And, well, we was all laughing pretty hard. We didn’t realize that his sneaker was stuck in the crusher part. It pulled him right in.” Linda-Lou shook her head again. “Messy.”
Ivy’s stomach dropped. “Jeeze, I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Linda-Lou’s freckled face did that sorrowful squishing thing again. “Mama and me, well, it’s been a year, but we’re still broken up about it. Boat’s still sitting there. We use the car, of course.”
Everett put a hand on her shoulder. Linda-Lou arched like a cat.
“I’d like to take in look in the boat, if that’s okay.”
She closed her eyes. “Yeah.” Then opened her eyes in lidded suspicion. “What for?”
“Clues,” he said.
“Oh. Well. I guess that would be all right.”
“Did he leave anything else behind that day?” Ivy asked. She didn’t know where the thought came from.
“He did. His dive bag. It’s hanging up in the garage.” Linda-Lou headed into the kitchen. “Let me get the clicker.”
Out in the driveway, Ivy felt fully overdressed as they removed the tarp from the boat. Lots of dust and crud came away, the fabric crackling with exposure to a year’s worth of Florida sun. The boat was catamaran style with two aluminum pontoons and a canopy shelter. Two black outboards had seen better days. The upper fiberglass part was filthy and smelled of brine.
Klein eyed her skirt and shoes. “I’ll climb up there. You check out the dive bag.”
Linda-Lou scurried out of the house and pushed the remote for the garage door. Inside, Ivy was shocked to see a shiny Mercedes Benz convertible. “Is that Johnny’s car?”
“Nah, that’s mine. Mama’s got Johnny’s car at work.”
Ivy thought of her beat-up truck. “That’s a nice car. What do you do for a living?”
“Cashier at the Winn-Dixie on A1A.”
Huh?
I’m definitely in the wrong line of work, Ivy thought.
Linda-Lou took a hanging duffle bag off a nail and made a face. “Eew, that smells right awful. Sorry, I just never had the heart to do anything with it.”
A cloud of mildew made Ivy’s sinuses crawl. She took it, holding it away from her body. Was the smell ever going to come out of her new suit?
“I guess just leave it on the curb by the garbage cans when you’re done.” Linda-Lou clicked the garage door closed and wandered back into the house.
Grimacing, Ivy unzipped the olive drab bag. As she suspected, it contained a wetsuit with a greenish patina. She picked through the contents, wishing for gloves, finding swim fins, a weight belt, and a scuba mask. She felt a rectangular lump beneath the soiled neoprene. Not wanting to, she reached underneath. The object was a nylon pouch, red with a white angled stripe—the symbol for diver down. She unzipped it, finding a three-ring binder dive log book. Ivy flipped through it. Other than a bunch of numbers on the first page, the log was blank. But she recognized the numbers—coordinates.
“You find anything?” Everett thumped around on the boat.
Ivy took out her phone and photographed the page. “I think so. Hang on a second.”
She didn’t want to do it, but she thought it was important enough. Taking deep breaths and closing her eyes, she went into her psychic trance.
I don’t know what’s going on with this stuff, Harmon came through immediately. One minute it’s fine, the next, it doesn’t work at all.
Are you in trouble? Ivy thought.
Nah, not right now. There’s a whole subcontinent due east of me. I can handle that, even without GPS. I’ll have to put in for repairs in India. What’s up? Why aren’t you in the shop?
Ivy didn’t have time to explain it all. She’d been keeping her adventures with Everett from Harmon, so he wouldn’t worry. I just came up with some coordinates, and I thought you might know the general location.
Shoot.
Ivy opened her eyes and stared at the numbers.
That’s about two miles due east off the coast of St. Augustine, Harmon thought at her. Water’s not too deep, but I can’t think of anything interesting that might be there.