Nicolas Viernes, happy to be almost
rid of the Nik Friday façade, walked from the marina parking lot down to the
marina itself. Since it was a very clear night, most of the yachts and other
seacraft were out on Tahoe. Luckily, the marina was well-lit, so Nic could find
his way around. It did not take him long to find the spot where Faraday’s yacht
was moored.
In his mind, Nic pictured the yacht sailing out toward the lake, with
Damien Tyler at the helm unaware. As the yacht sailed away, a man or woman hid
among the rocks between the parking lot and marina, pulled out a sniper rifle,
aimed carefully, and put a bullet into Tyler Tyler
Viernes looked around for a minute at the marina, admiring the few
moored craft, almost wishing he could own one…almost. He hated the water. He
walked around for a while before heading for the marina office.
The manager was just getting ready to leave when Nic knocked on the
door. The manager was clearly annoyed at the disturbance. “Yes?”
Nic entered without an invitation. “Good evening. Got a minute for a
cop?”
The man’s face paled. “Uh…I guess.” The annoyed countenance dissolved
immediately.
“Relax, man. What’s your name?”
“Bud Reitz.”
“Well, Bud, my name is Nik Friday. I’m a detective from Reno
“Are they related to me?”
“Not unless you point me in that direction.”
Bud smiled nervously. “Fine then.” He ran his hand along his thinning
white hair as he sat at his desk. “What do you need to know?”
“A few days ago we retrieved a body from the yacht in section 12, space
A. Know the one I mean?”
Bud pulled out a book, presumably the boat register. “That would be Mr.
Faraday’s?”
“It sure as hell is.”
“What about it? Need to board it?”
“No, it’s been picked over with a fine-tooth comb. The body we found was
shot almost a week ago. Have you been here every night?”
“Yes, except Sunday.”
“Can you remember anyone lurking around here around that period? It most
likely would have been at night.”
Bud scratched his peeling chin. It looked as though he never used
sunscreen. The peeling layer revealed a very raw second layer of skin. “I don’t
remember anyone lurking around, so to speak. I do remember the man who asked
for the keys, and I know it wasn’t Mr. Faraday.”
Nic gave his description of Damien Tyler, but Bud shook his head. “He
gave his name as Oscar something. The description you gave me doesn’t match who
I saw.”
“What did he look like?”
“Kind of tall, in a brown polo shirt, bald, wore some cologne that just
about gave me a headache. I was glad when he left, I’ll tell you.”
Roman Wells! “What time was this?”
“About 4p.m.”
Nic grinned. “Thanks, Bud. You didn’t incriminate yourself one bit. But
I do have some advice.”
“Yeah?”
“Wear sunscreen.”
As Bud continued to lock up, Nic walked back to his car, pulling out his
cell phone. He called Ben Whitney first. “Ben? It’s Nic.”
“You find out where the yacht was?”
“Not only that, I know who killed Damien Tyler, aka Oscar DeBartolo.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You might want to get the diving team out there again to find
more slugs. It’s not an airtight case by far, and we’ll need all the evidence
we can get.”
“Tell me what you have.”
“I just interviewed the marina manager. From him, I got that our new
friend Roman Wells used our victim’s name to get the keys.”
“The guy you had dinner with?”
“Right. Here’s how I see it. Wells and Tyler were comrades-in-arms so to
speak. Wells was going to get on the yacht with Tyler Tyler
Ben whistled. “That’s a helluva theory.”
“And if your boys search a little closer to shore, I think they’ll find
the ammo.”
“Will do. Tomorrow should prove fruitful, if you’re right.”
“Leave the sea fruit alone and get the bullets. I don’t even have time
to get an arrest warrant. I have to go grab this guy right away.”
“Why? You think he’ll leave town?”
“Maybe, but I also think Dwayne needs backup. See ya.” As he hung up,
Nic had a sinking feeling that Dwayne was walking without looking both ways. He
pulled out and sped back to Reno.
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