Deadline (Sandra Brown)

high-tech gizmos. We’re running down his current employer to check that out.”
    Sizzling through her mind was the word electronics , which was closely related to Jeremy’s field of expertise. She saw that Dawson had picked up on that, too. He had planted in her mind the possibly that Jeremy was alive and posing as Dirk. If that was true, just knowing that he was under the same roof was making it hard for her to breathe.
    Headly asked, “Did he have identification?”
    “Florida driver’s license, an insurance card for a 2009 Ford pickup, one credit card, one gas card. All legit and nothing overdue.”
    “Has he been cooperative?” Dawson asked.
    “More or less. Arresting deputies said he gave them some attitude. Probably because there’s an outstanding warrant for him in Florida.”
    “For what?”
    “Parking tickets.”
    “Parking tickets?”
    The detective gave Dawson a look. “What? You were expecting something else?”
    “Weren’t you?”
    Tucker merely shrugged. “When the deputies told him that parking violations weren’t the issue, he claimed not to know why we wanted to talk to him.”
    “He denied knowing Stef?” Dawson asked.
    “No. He admits to hooking up with her a couple of times, but swears that until the deputies told him, he didn’t even know that she was dead.”
    “It’s been on the news,” Dawson said.
    “We pointed that out to him. Still claims he hadn’t heard anything about it. He also provided an alibi for the night she was killed. Says he and a couple other guys have been working on a yacht that’s tied up over there on Saint Nelda’s south dock. But the day Miss DeMarco was killed, they hadn’t gone to the island, on account of the storm. They were afraid they wouldn’t be able to get back, and they had nowhere to stay out there. He says that at the estimated time of her death he was playing poker with his friends in his apartment. He gave us their names. We’re trying to track them down, but he tells us they went to New Orleans yesterday for another job.”
    “A poker night with suddenly absent friends?”
    For once the deputy agreed with Dawson. “I hear ya. We talked to the captain of the ferry that goes out to Saint Nelda’s. From the description we gave him, he knew right off who we were talking about. Says he’s carried him back and forth many times.
    “But he can’t remember if Dirk was a passenger on the ferry on Sunday. Because of the weather, he had his hands full piloting the thing before they shut down ferry service altogether. He can’t swear one way or another whether he hauled Dirk that day or not.
    “And, too, the owners of that yacht are in North Carolina. Dirk had access to it, and he knows how to pilot it, even in bad weather, because he installed all the safety geegaws.”
    “You’re saying he might not have needed the ferry to get himself to the island and back.”
    “Righto. We’re looking at him hard,” Tucker said. “He admits to being sort of a drifter, moving from job to job along the East Coast. His ‘permanent address’ is a post office box in Florida.”
    Amelia, Dawson, and Headly exchanged a look. Dawson came back to Tucker. “Does he have any kind of scar on his head?”
    “Scar?”
    “A patch of hair missing. Like he suffered a serious wound.”
    “The hell you talking about?”
    Before Dawson was forced to explain the reason for his question, Headly intervened. “Ms. Nolan doesn’t know Dirk by name, but she may recognize him by sight. If so, it could have some bearing on your investigation. Can she take a look?”
    Tucker motioned them toward the door. “Any help we can get.”
    She said, “I don’t want him to see me.”
    “He won’t. He’s in an interrogation room. There’s a one-way window.”
    The four went through the door that opened into a large squad room furnished with work stations partitioned off from one another. A few personnel were about, doing various things. They all stopped what they were doing and watched them traverse the room. Tucker led them out of that room and into a sterile corridor. They made a left turn into another seemingly endless corridor identical to the first.
    Tucker, in step with Amelia, asked, “Did Miss DeMarco seem to welcome his attentions?”
    “From what I gather, yes,” Amelia replied. “She always looked forward to meeting him.”
    “Did she ever tell you where their dates took place?”
    “Mickey’s is the only night spot on Saint