enough to process the scene even though the boat was gone. Suzie walked over to the yellow tape and yanked it upward. She no longer cared about being careful.
“You shouldn't be there!” a shrill voice shouted from up near the motel. Suzie froze. Mary spun around looking for the source of the voice. “Yes, you two! You shouldn't be there!” the voice said again.
“Who is that?” Suzie questioned as she turned around to scrutinize the motel. A small figure stepped out from the shadows.
“I know you're not supposed to be there, you're no kind of police,” the person accused.
Suzie narrowed her eyes. She could barely see the person beneath a heavy coat and low, floppy hat. What she could see made it clear that the person might not want to be seen. The coat was stained and threadbare. The person's shoes were barely held together with what looked like some duct tape.
“We're just looking,” Suzie said in a clear, calm voice. “We're not causing any trouble.”
“Trouble, nothing but trouble,” the person muttered. As the figure took a few steps closer, Suzie could tell that it was a woman.
“I'm looking for the missing boat,” Suzie explained.
“Suzie, don't tell her what we're doing,” Mary warned. “She looks unstable.”
“Maybe she saw something,” Suzie hissed back. In her time as an investigative reporter she had learned that the invisible people, such as the homeless, children, or those working behind the scenes, usually knew a lot more than expected.
“The boat?” the woman repeated. “That poor fellow,” she sighed.
Suzie's heart jumped up into her throat. She was certain now that the woman had seen something.
“What fellow?” she asked as she slipped under the yellow tape and moved closer to the woman.
“Well, it was three men,” the woman said and smoothed down her coat which was far too heavy to be wearing in the balmy weather. “But only one was sad. The others were angry.”
“There were two men with him?” Suzie pressed. “Do you know why they were angry?”
“There's no drugs here,” she barked so loudly that Mary jumped back.
“See,” Mary said under her breath. “She doesn't know what she's talking about.”
“You hush,” the woman glared at Mary before looking back at Suzie. “The poor fellow was so sad. He tried to get away. But they wouldn't let him. They made him get back on the boat.”
“You saw all of this?” Suzie asked. “Did you tell the police?”
“Trouble, nothing but trouble,” the woman shook her head. “They would make me move. You're not going to tell, are you?” she asked with wide, tired eyes.
“No,” Suzie said softly. “I won't tell.”
She knew that the woman wouldn't be taken very seriously as a witness, but she also didn't want the woman to lose the only home she had.
“Good, good,” the woman nodded. “Poor fellow,” she cleared her throat.
“Did the men hurt him?” Suzie asked breathlessly.
“Sure,” the woman nodded. “Pow, pow!” she swung her hands wildly through the air, causing both Mary and Suzie to duck. “But no bangs,” the woman sighed with relief. “Guns, but no bangs.”
“What about names?” Mary asked. “Did anyone say anyone's name?”
“Just angry words,” the woman shook her head and lowered her voice. “Foul words.”
Suzie was still recovering from the revelation that there were guns involved. She took comfort in the woman saying that they hadn't been fired, but she also knew that if at any time there was a gun involved in an assault there was a high chance of it being used.
“Did they say where they were going?” Suzie asked hopefully. “The poor fellow, he's my friend, I need to find him.”
“Oh, so sorry,” the woman said sadly, and seemed to have genuine sympathy in her eyes. “He was so sad.”
“But did they say anything about a place they might be headed?” Mary asked quickly. Suzie was still staring warmly into the woman's eyes. She had provided Suzie the
Learning to Kill: Stories