“Would you recognize them?”
Zane shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t, though.”
“They weren’t any of the guests or staff?” Nick asked.
“Not that I’ve seen, no. But I haven’t seen everyone.”
Nick handed him the iPad and brought up pictures he’d taken of each person he’d questioned. He tapped the screen. “Start flipping through those for me, see if you recognize anyone.”
Zane took the iPad.
“What can you tell me about them?” Nick asked.
Zane shrugged and began to flip through the photos. “They were both still dressed up from the party. Both fairly young. The guy was possibly blond, the girl maybe had dark hair, it was hard to tell because there was no moon. The girl had an accent.”
Nick raised an eyebrow at that, looking hopeful for the first time. “What kind?”
Zane winced. “I’m not sure. It sounded sort of like a mix, or maybe like she had a problem with her palate. Ty could probably tell you.”
Nick smiled wryly. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, then nodded like he was giving himself a pep talk to continue. “Did they say anything to you?”
“Not directly, no. They were talking about walking on the beach not being romantic because it made their calves hurt.”
Nick stopped writing and simply peered at Zane for a few moments, letting the silence stretch. Zane fought not to shift in his seat. Finally, he couldn’t handle the scrutiny any longer and said, “What?”
“You should probably know,” Nick started, sounding uncertain. “Ty couldn’t tell me a damn thing about these people.”
Zane frowned, confused.
“Couldn’t even tell me what color hair they had. Didn’t mention the accent. Didn’t give either man or woman a second glance.”
Zane smiled when he realized Nick’s point. Ty had always had straying eyes, and that had never bothered Zane. Hell, he did too sometimes. There was nothing wrong with looking at a beautiful person. But out there last night, holding Zane’s hand on the beach, Ty hadn’t noticed a thing about two possibly attractive people other than the fact that they were walking by.
“Yeah, grin all you want, but these two people might be our doers.”
“Seriously?”
Nick tapped his notes. “None of the other statements account for them. Did you leave your room last night, after Ty fell asleep?”
Zane frowned at the sudden change in questioning, but he nodded. “Well, not the room. I went out on the balcony at one point. I couldn’t sleep.”
“What time was that?”
“Anywhere from four to just before the sun came up. I’m not sure.”
Nick’s expression remained neutral. “Did you see or hear anything? Notice anything unusual?”
“I don’t think so. The storm was going pretty hard at that point.”
Nick gave a curt nod and lowered his head. He stared at his notes for a few more seconds, and then glanced back up, narrowing his eyes. His voice was lower when he spoke. “The storm was going?”
Zane raised both eyebrows. The more he saw of Nick’s professional façade, the more impressed he was. As a rule, federal agents didn’t often get along with police detectives. Their turf war had been turned into something of almost mythical proportions, and was often furthered by strutting and bragging and bickering when they were forced to collaborate. Rookies bought into the rivalry and perpetuated it. Zane had worked with quite a few detectives he enjoyed, but he’d also been forced to deal with more he absolutely hated.
He kind of wondered what it would have been like to have met Nick on a job rather than through Ty.
Nick put his pen down, staring at Zane.
“What?” Zane finally asked.
“Where’d you get your time from?”
“What?”
“You said it was after four,” Nick reminded him. “How can you be sure if you didn’t know the exact time?”
Zane shrugged, beginning to blush. “I . . . you can’t tell Ty this.”
Nick nodded solemnly.
“I remember rolling over at one point and looking at the clock. It was 4:20. I found it funny.”
Nick blinked rapidly, his mouth going harder.
Zane sniffed. “Are you laughing at me?”
Nick rubbed his fingertips over his lips and shook his head, but when he glanced back up he was sniggering softly. He cleared his throat and schooled his features. “Okay. So it was after 4:20.”
“Yes,” Zane grunted. He crossed his arms, blushing harder.
“How bad was the storm when you went out there?”
Zane exhaled slowly, rubbing at his neck. “It was bad. I’m not surprised a tree took out the boathouse. I mean, it was raining sideways and the wind was howling. It was, um . . . it was beautiful.”
Nick sat motionless, his green eyes on Zane, his face expressionless. Finally, his gaze drifted upward and he seemed to be staring at the ceiling over Zane’s shoulder.
“O’Flaherty?”
“How did that broken watch make it through a storm like that?” Nick asked.
They sat in silence, staring at each other, both stumped by the question. Nick rested his chin in his palm, tapping his lower lip with his finger. “It couldn’t have.”
Zane shook his head. “The pieces would have been washed away for sure. The gears probably inundated.”
“Someone killed him around midnight, then went back after the storm was gone and smashed that watch. Why?”
Zane sat frowning at Nick, trying to come up with a reason why someone would do that. “I’ve got nothing,” he finally admitted.
“We need to look at that watch again.”
Zane nodded. “I’ll go with you as soon we’re done.”
“Yeah.”
Nick shook off the mystery of the broken watch and proceeded to ask Zane a few questions about the party, approaching several things from different angles in an attempt to jog details loose from Zane’s memory. He seemed tired, though, and Zane could see his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly.
Nick was almost done with his questioning when the door burst open and Kelly barged into the room. Nick and Zane both stood.
“Sorry, just be a second,” Kelly said to Zane, and he made a beeline for Nick behind the bar. He grabbed him before Nick could say anything, and kissed him.
Zane’s mouth fell open, and he sat back down hard as he watched. Kelly pulled away from the kiss, leaving Nick wide-eyed and speechless. “Ty told me what you said. Love you, too.” He kissed him one more time for good measure, then turned with a nod to Zane and left the room.