Relaxing on the dock by the gondola launch, Mulrooney sipped a Clausthaler and watched the windsurfers skimming along the cobalt blue surface of Alamitos Bay. He drew the salt air in through his nose, and faced upwind, feeling the breeze on his face and neck.
From his vantage point, he could see the Connolly house to his left, the Second Street bridge directly ahead, the canal entrance into Naples at one o"clock, and the narrow strip of bay separating Naples from the peninsula off to his right.
Mulrooney had spent the past few hours questioning boaters and locals, but nothing new had turned up. He had also learned that Mr. Armstrong, the witness who had verified Lauren"s alibi, had taken his boat to Catalina for several days, so Mulrooney would have to wait to question him again. He was
