“Maybe he was seeing someone who was married,” suggested White.
“Maybe, but Kanak was such a straight arrow, I just couldn’t see that. I had him over a few times for dinner with me and my wife, you know, trying to get him to open up. But he never really did.”
“Did he say anything at all that might explain what had happened?” asked Decker.
Dykes mulled over this. “He and I were sitting in my apartment just shooting the breeze one day. Suddenly, he looked over at me and said, ‘Artie, I wish one thing.’ He said, ‘I wish to hell I had gone out with you guys that night in Miami.’”
Decker and White glanced at each other. He said, “Did you ask him why?”
“Of course I did, but he clammed up like nobody’s business. Couldn’t get another word out of him on the subject. And believe me, I tried. I talked to some other agents who had stayed at the hotel that night, but they couldn’t tell me anything useful. They just hit the sack and woke up the next morning. Seems like whatever happened, only happened to Kanak.”
“You ever tell anybody about this?” asked White.
“Just my wife.”
“I’d keep it that way, for now,” said White. “Until we figure this out.”
Dykes glanced at her with an anxious expression. “Yeah, okay.”
“Anything else you can tell us?”
“Just that it was about six months later when he resigned from the Secret Service and moved to Florida to start his business. Then he got married and, later, his daughter was born. He sent me an announcement.”
“Career change, marriage, baby. That’s a lot in a very short period of time,” noted Decker.
“Yeah, it was.”
“Were you surprised?” asked White.
“Flabbergasted was more like it. Me and everybody else. I mean, he was walking away from a great pension, health care, everything. But, as it turned out, he made the right decision. I mean, the guy became rich.”
“Did you see him after he left the Service?”
“Yeah, he came to some reunions, birthdays, retirement parties. He was a big shot by then. Drove up in a Rolls-Royce one time, with a driver and everything. I could only shake my head.” Dykes chuckled. “He brought his daughter to one event. Hell, she was probably only ten or twelve, but you could tell he was already grooming her to be his heir apparent. She was clearly in awe of him. Heard she went the Secret Service route, too. That was long after I retired. Now she’s running the show at Gamma.”
“You heard what happened to Kanak?” said Decker.
“Yeah, I did. Crazy. I mean, we’d lost touch by then. Last time I saw him was maybe ten years ago. Ann, my wife, was still alive. He looked good, happy, content.”
“Did he mention anything when you saw him last?”
“No, it was all superficial ‘how ya doing’ bullshit. He was just a totally different guy by then. We just had our years at the Service in common by then, and it had been a long time. When I heard he went missing on his boat, I thought, what the hell was that about? It was like he just wanted to disappear. I mean, they never found any wreckage or anything. And you’d think they would have found something if the boat went down.”
“You’d think,” said Decker. “You ever see Kasimira again?”
Dykes nodded. “I went to his memorial service. They couldn’t really have a funeral, of course. She spoke at it. Very moving stuff. I was crying like a baby. She loved her father, that was for sure.”
“You have any inkling what could have happened back in Miami that night?” asked Decker.
Dykes eyed him. “All I can say is, whatever did happen, must’ve been goddamn life changing. Because it did change Kanak Roe’s life.”
Decker glanced at White before asking, “What hotel in Miami?”
Dykes took on a wistful look. “The Fontainebleau. Reagan liked it because the hotel had been used for a bunch of movies and TV. Jerry Lewis and Sinatra did stuff there. Lucille Ball, Bob Hope, and Judy Garland all stayed there. They filmed some of that Bond movie Goldfinger there. Reagan just ate it up. You know he was an actor before he was president.”
“Yeah, I heard. Was anyone else of note staying at the hotel at the time?” asked Decker.
Dykes shook his head. “I mean, after POTUS, everyone else is way down the pecking order.”
“Was his wife with him on the trip?” asked White.
“No, Mrs. Reagan was back in DC. It was only the one night. We flew back home the next morning. All routine stuff.”