Page 68 of Wild Tempest

The man's face soured at the smell and the unpleasantness of the job.

I told Crenshaw to pause and zoom in on the footage. He did, and we got a better look at the man's face. I was pretty sure it was the real estate tycoon we had talked to earlier, Martin Harris.

The pieces all came together. Harris was facing foreclosure. He needed to move the body before the property was sold. No telling what a new owner might find on the island.

We continued watching.

Martin dragged the body on top of a plastic tarp. The corpse’s arm disarticulated in the process. Harris scooped up all the body parts that had separated, then rolled them up and tied the tarp with a rope.

Just about the time he finished, he caught sight of the cameraman, who was presumably Garrett.

In a state of sheer panic, Martin drew a pistol and chased after the kid.

Garrett figured he’d better get moving. He did a 180 and hustled back through the forest as Martin chased him.

Garrett tripped and fell over a log, and the phone tumbled from his grasp into the underbrush. He didn't have time to scavenge for it. The kid scampered to his feet and took off.

The camera kept filming the treetops and the sky.

Out of frame, Martin raced by a moment later, crunching over leaves.

The camera continued to film until the battery died. It was the last shot the documentary filmmaker would ever take.

I informed the sheriff, then filled out an application for a warrant.

Judge Echols signed off on it, and we put together a tactical team.

We headed over to One Ocean Plaza with Erickson, Faulkner, Mendoza, and Robinson. The sheriff tagged along just to see the scumbag go down.

We stormed Martin's office, moving past the wide-eyed receptionist, rifles shouldered. We marched down the hall and flooded into the scumbag’s office.

He was on a phone call. His concerned eyes widened at the angry barrels that closed in around him. "Listen, something just came up. I'll call you back," he said before ending the call. Martin put on a smile, "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

He wasn’t going to charm his way out of this one.

"You're under arrest for disturbing human remains," I said.

At the moment, it was all we could get him on. We didn't even know who the remains belonged to.

Martin’s smile faded.

Jack slapped the cuffs around his wrists and read him his rights.

Deputies escorted him out of the building and stuffed him into a patrol car. Martin was taken to the station for processing.

I stayed behind and talked to the receptionist. I showed her the video of Martin exhuming the remains.

Her eyes rounded with terror, and her lip curled with disgust at the heinous sight. "Who is that?"

"That's what I'm hoping you might help me figure out. Can you think of anybody in Martin's orbit who has gone missing recently? Within the last few months?”

The receptionist swallowed hard with a flash of recognition in her eyes. She knew exactly who went missing.

41

"Chelsea was Martin's executive assistant,” Veronica said. “Gorgeous woman. We weren’t real close or anything, but we had a drink on occasion. She was always with Martin. At his beck and call 24/7. I kind of suspected something was going on between them, but I figured it wasn't any of my business. So, I kept my mouth shut.” She paused. “One day, about two months ago, Chelsea just didn't show up for work. Martin said she quit. I thought it was a little odd, but things happen. People quit for reasons. I figured maybe their relationship had turned south, or maybe she found a better offer. You know, somebody younger, hotter, with more money. Maybe she got sick of waiting around for Martin to leave his wife. Who knows?”

"Tell me Chelsea's last name," I said.