Collateral Damage by H. Terrell Griffin Page B

here. I think if it was just random, we’d have had more murders just like this one. A serial killer can’t stop with just one.”
    â€œWhat about the killings on
Dulcimer
?” I asked.
    â€œNo connection that we can see.”
    â€œWhat if the sheer randomness of all the killings
is
the connection?”
    J.D. shook her head. “Doesn’t fit. One was a long-range shooting and the others were knifings. The captain was killed by someone skilled in martial arts. Either that, or the killer was very strong. Up close and brutal. And we’re pretty sure there had to be a team of at least two people working the boat. One to take care of the captain and another to kill the passengers.”
    â€œAnd you never found any connections between any of the four dead people.”
    â€œNone.”
    â€œIf Jim’s killing wasn’t random, then the killer must have known that Jim would be on the beach that morning. Any thoughts?”
    J.D. nodded. “Desmond had been at the Hilton for three days before his wedding. He jogged the beach every morning at about the sametime. We think the killer was betting on his being at the same place at pretty much the same time on the day of the murder.”
    â€œDo you think there was anything significant about the fact that he was murdered on the day after his wedding?”
    â€œI thought about that, but decided that it was probably a coincidence. If the new wife had been part of it, it would have made sense for her to wait until she was married to have him killed. Then she would inherit.”
    â€œJim came from a wealthy family. Maybe that was a motive.”
    â€œMeredith, the wife, has more money than the whole Desmond family. Her grandfather was richer than I can imagine and set up a trust fund for Meredith. She came into control of it on her twenty-first birthday. Even if she inherited the entire Desmond fortune, it would only be a drop in the bucket of the money she already has. As they say, that dog won’t hunt.”
    â€œI guess not. Didn’t you tell me that the couple was leaving that afternoon for a honeymoon in Europe?”
    â€œThey were.”
    â€œThen if the shooter missed Jim that day, if Jim had not jogged, or gone on the street or the other way on the beach, the killer would have missed him.”
    â€œI guess so,” she said.
    â€œBut if the killing wasn’t random, then there must have been a contingency plan.”
    She was quiet for a moment, sipping her wine. I heard a dog bark in the distance, the screech of one of the peacocks that run wild in the Village, an outboard engine chugging at idle speed up the lagoon where I lived. “Maybe,” she said.
    â€œMaybe?”
    â€œThe Grand Beach condo building takes up the whole area between the beach and Gulf of Mexico Drive. There are no obstructions on the roof that would have kept the shooter from moving across it. There are a bunch of air-conditioning units up there, but nothing that would stop him from moving from the front of the building to the back. If Desmond had come up the sidewalk on Gulf of Mexico Drive, all the killer had to do was move to that side of the building.”
    â€œWhat if Jim had jogged north on the beach?”
    â€œI see your point. How would the killer have gotten to him? And if he hadn’t gotten him that day, then Desmond would presumably have been out of reach in Europe. That’s an argument for randomness.”
    â€œMaybe not,” I said. “Maybe there was another shooter on the roof of another building to the north of the Hilton.”
    She sat quietly for a beat. “Damn. We never thought about that. There’re some buildings to the north that could have hidden a sniper.”
    â€œIf you’re going north from the Hilton,” I said, “there are several low-rise buildings, no more than three or four stories high, until you get to the Tropical Condos. That building is eight