The Sandcastle Murders

by K. E. Warner

  Then she found a shot with his face illuminated by the ghostly glow of a nearby LED lantern. He seemed to have stepped in toward her table. She enlarged the image and leaned in on the computer. Despite the blur caused by enlarging, he looked familiar.

  Her stomach flipped and her throat dried, but she didn’t know why. Raheem might have some idea. She opened her email, attached several photos with the mysterious figure, and wrote a short note to Raheem.

  Hi R. Working on the dinner article and was going through the photos submitted by guests. Can you help me with these – the guy looks familiar but out of place for someone who was so interested in the event? Wondered if you had any thoughts. xoxo M

  She hit send and held her breath, hoping Raheem’s connection to community members would put her mind to rest.

  With a printed copy of the man’s face beside her, she continued working on the article, glancing down at the photo every few minutes. She began second-guessing herself. Maybe he looked familiar because she’d looked at the photo so many times?

  She finished the first draft of the article, and pushed herself back from the desk. Anxious to let the story sit for a while before editing, she considered how to pass the time, and texted Raheem.

  Time for coffee?

  His response pinged back at her seconds later.

  Can u come here?

  She wanted to be away from any professional setting, but understood he was busy.

  CU in ten won’t stay long

  She picked up the paper print-out of the man’s photo, folded it into a corner of her purse, and headed to the detachment, stopping at Starbucks on the way.

  She pulled into the parking lot to see Raheem, eyes narrowed, brows knitted, beside a man she didn’t recognize. The man, as tall as Raheem but huskier, was dressed in black leather and heavy black boots. He moved meaty hands through the air as he spoke. Raheem’s head nodded as he listened.

  She parked and exited the car slowly, giving Raheem time to finish his conversation. He waved as he noticed her, and the massive man turned and strode out of the lot toward the road. He looked out of place walking rather than riding a Harley. The only thing he needed was colours on his back to identify him with a gang.

  Raheem’s concerned look vanished and a grin stretched from ear to ear.

  “Is that smile about the coffee, the photos I sent, or me?” she asked as she handed him a coffee.

  “All the above.” He chirped as they walked into the station. He swung doors open, and buzzed through security to his office. “To what do I owe the honour?” He pulled a chair up to the desk for her and took his seat.

  “Needed a break. Finished the first round of the White Night Dinner article and thought I’d get a coffee and some fresh air. What did you think of the photos?”

  “They were interesting. Unusual look for a guy who appeared so interested in the dinner. I didn’t notice him at all while we were there. Trying to get a timestamp off the photos at the lab, so maybe that will help. From the appearance of the tables, it seemed about halfway through the dinner.”

  “Was he familiar to you?”

  “Not to me. But the techs will enhance the photos, see if they can bring up something less grainy. You?”

  “I thought so, but I second-guessed myself and decided no. We could ask around.”

  “Let’s leave it for now. Coffee’s good. Thanks.”

  She took his change in topic for what it was. End of discussion.

  “So, tomorrow. You coming on the boat?”

  “I’m trying. At the moment it looks like I’ll be able to, so keep your fingers crossed.”

  She smiled and hoped he wouldn’t see her disappointment.

  “Any more info on the Sonja Bearns case? I mean, anything you can share with me.”

  “No, nothing new. But priorities are on something else…”

  Magda filled the silence, accepting the implication that something important distracted the limited police manpower for the time being.

  “I get it. Too much work, not enough support to get it done.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, laughing about some of the games from the night before, reflecting on the setting, and wondering how much money was raised. As she tilted the last sip of coffee to her lips, she rose and walked to the door with Raheem in tow.

  “See you tomorrow, Raheem, with any luck. I’m going to get to bed early again tonight. I need another good sleep to be ready for the expedition tomorrow. Hope I won’t have to do any heavy lifting on the boat.”

  Raheem chuckled. “I’m trying to imagine the heavy lifting you might do, but getting more rest tonight is a good idea. See you tomorrow, I hope.”

  She headed to her car. Her greatest wish was that he didn’t see her until after the fishing trip – which she was coming to think of as a reconnaissance mission.

  Chapter thirty-three

  By the time Magda reached the marina, the cluster of would-be fishermen were congregated at the end of a dock. She waved and smiled as their elated calls sang out in greeting. It was a beautiful morning; the occasional cloudy puff hung in the sky, but the forecast didn’t call for rain.

  “Raheem coming?” she called as she walked toward them. She didn’t see him and hoped that meant he was unavailable.

  Donna piped up. “He called last night to say he’d come, so we’re expecting him.”

  An anxious twinge pulled Magda’s shoulders up and her neck pinched. Raheem would complicate things. As she reached the group her phone buzzed and she scrolled to see the text.

  Caught up at work. Please apologize to everyone. Will be there next time. Call me when UR back.

  Her shoulders relaxed and a heavy sigh escaped. “He just texted. He can’t make it.”

  Elaine had her arm through Henri’s and shook her head. “That man works too hard. Can’t you control him, Magda?”

  Magda bristled at the comment. Perhaps it was a generational thing. “I don’t want to control him, to be honest.” She thought about the comment for a second and added, “It makes him predictably…. unpredictable.”

  Henri nudged Elaine, and they both grinned like teenagers before he invited them to board the rental boat. It was a forty-six-foot Grander, large by any estimation - and luxurious. Its design looked sleek in metallic grey with a hardwood plank deck in the stern, two cushy chairs on the bow below the bridge, plenty of seating and storage, and at least four fishing rods. It was obvious Henri was smitten with his new friends, and maybe, Magda thought, eager to impress Elaine.

  Elaine grasped the railing and boarded, wobbling as she climbed the steps. Donna attempted to follow, but Henri held his palm toward her with a shake of the head. He pointed down at a pair of blue and white stilettos, complete with tiny anchor bows above her toes.

  “Not on-board, Donna. You can either go barefoot, or I saw some nice fishing boots below.” He chuckled at his friend.

  She smiled, placed a hand on Charles’ shoulder for support, and removed her shoes. “Thank-you Henri. I’ll go barefoot.” She stepped onto the ramp, shoes clutched in one hand, the railing in the other, and boarded.

  Charles handed Saori’s leash to Magda, and stutter-stepped up the ramp, his eyes never leaving Donna as he climbed. Dave, attired in deck shoes and cargo shorts, followed Alice, also appropriately dressed in deck shoes and capris. Magda kneeled in front of Saori and the pup hopped into her outstretched arms. She climbed aboard, a careful grip on the little dog.

  Charles placed himself on a cushioned bench and rifled through his black leather carry-on. He pulled out a miniature floatation device and looked at Saori in Magda’s arms.

  “This will make you feel better about your sea legs, Saori,” he said.

  Magda held the pup still while Charles placed her legs through small straps. When he was done, Saori looked the picture of discomfort clipped into a bright turquoise puppy life jacket, complete with shark fin extending from the back.

  Elaine, Alice, and Dave chuckled at Saori a
nd she buried her nose in Charles’ armpit. Donna turned to the three gigglers and pursed her lips before emitting a quick “tsk, tsk”, then took a seat beside Charles. She scrubbed the little pup’s head and cooed at him till he poked his nose out from Charles and licked her arm.

  Henri went over the safety procedures, offered life jackets, and started the engines. A dull roar echoed in the marina.

  “Do you trust me?” He yelled over the engine’s hum.

  Elaine clapped, and the rest signalled their approval with thumbs up as they settled into their seats. Magda felt a touch of melancholy as she watched the three older couples. She missed Raheem, but this wasn’t a pleasure trip for her, it was a mission.

  As the boat left its slip, she climbed three steps to the helm and stood behind Elaine, perched in one of the two captains’ chairs overlooking the bow. Henri left the marina at a slow crawl, careful to keep the wake low, picking up speed as they entered the Strait of Georgia. With the wind a reasonable six knots, the waves were minimal, and the ride comfortable. About fifteen minutes from the dock, Henri pointed, just as Alice squealed and Dave yelled, “Thar she blows.”

  A pod of whales chased breakfast, and the group witnessed one of the more brutal, and well-choreographed, experiences the ocean has to offer.

  Henri beamed and cut the engines. “Wish I knew more about our whales in the Georgia Strait. People just refer to them all as whales, but there are so many differences between them.”

  The boat drifted with the current and the sound of gulls looking for a snack called from above. Henri put his hands on his hips, looking every bit the Superman, and shared what he did know.

  “Law says we have to keep two hundred meters back from whales. It’s twice as far as we stay from other marine animals, but it doesn’t mean they can’t come to us.”

  Magda pulled binoculars from her bag and watched as the whales breached and resurfaced in an oceanic ballet performance, keeping their distance from the boat.

  Donna gasped and grinned at Magda. “Binoculars. Magda, you are brilliant.”

  Magda stepped down, handing Donna the binoculars with a smile. “Try not to notice if you see the little sea lion pop up.”

  Donna’s face puckered as she looked through the glasses. “Just a lot of splashing. Whatever made you think to bring binoculars? You continue to amaze me, Magda.”

  Magda let the question sail into the air without an answer, and Henri cut the engine and handed a second pair of binoculars to Elaine.

  Charles’ posture had become more attentive when Henri suggested he’d like to know more about the whales. The group’s quiet observance gave him an opportunity to share.

  “There are differences between species of whales, but also among ecotypes of Orcas.”

  Donna handed him the binoculars, taking Saori from his arms. He adjusted the lenses and continued talking while he watched the ocean. “One type, the resident killer whales, is very vocal. They use echolocation to find their food, which is salmon. They can even tell the difference between different salmon.”

  “Is that what these are, resident killer whales?” Donna appeared a little more enthused, hoping these whales were chasing salmon, not tiny seals.

  A whale breached, then a second and third, in rapid succession. “It doesn’t look like it. These look like Bigg’s killer whales and eat larger prey; seals, porpoise, or even other whales. The larger prey can hear the sounds of the resident killer whales and escape before they’re caught. Bigg’s sneak up on their prey, disorient them in the water by breaching, and play with their catch until they exhaust it. Some throw their prey around to kill them.”

  Charles’ attention shifted to the horrified Donna. As he extended the binoculars back to her, she flailed her arms at him as if fending off a nest of hornets, so he passed the glasses back to Magda. It was the end of his contribution to their knowledge, and he comforted Donna by wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

  Magda peered through the binoculars at the whales for a few minutes before beginning a slow scan of the coastline. The island beside them was Lasqueti, and she was eager to reach Jedidiah.

  Fifteen minutes later the whales quieted, a sign they finished their meal, and Henri continued the trek to Jedidiah. Grey storm clouds were darkening the sky in the west, and as the wind picked up the roll of the ocean slowed the boat.

  They rounded Lasqueti, and Magda watched the small white dots of feral sheep on Jedidiah. She passed the binoculars back to Donna. “Look Donna. Feral goats and sheep. Not sure which these are, can you tell?”

  The distraction made Donna smile again, and as Henri found the sheltered bay he’d been looking for, Donna squealed, “They’re sheep. Look Charles - sheep.”

  Charles’ expression remained passive; the sheep didn’t seem to impress him the way the whales had.

  Henri slowed, then stopped and dropped anchor, looking down on his friends from the captain’s perch. “And who will join me fishing?”

  Silence.

  “Fishing? Anyone fishing? That’s why we came, right? I recall when we played that word game the other night, everyone said yes to fishing. Or maybe I don’t recall?” His face contorted, and the grin that covered his face since early morning disappeared.

  “I was a yes to fishing, but I have never been fishing, and know nothing about it.” Magda’s honesty, as the first one to speak up, was rewarded with smiles.

  Donna wrinkled her nose and nodded, as did Elaine and Alice, forming a trio of bobbling heads.

  “Okay, men. It’s up to us.” Henri smiled again.

  Charles’ polite response was simple. “No, thank-you. Not today.”

  But Dave was all for it. “Haven’t fished in years. Looks like I’m going to be the one to help Henri find dinner.”

  Both men were skilled, with lines in the water in minutes, while the women, Charles, and Saori watched as if studying for an exam. Henri had equipped the tackle with herring, a favourite of many salmon species, although near the end of the season for some types. They were anchored close to the beach and Henri pointed out the kelp beds.

  “If we’d brought hip waders we’d have been able to fly fish for Coho or pink.”

  Magda saw Donna nod as if that was the one factor keeping her from the fishing lines. Picking up her binoculars, once again she combed the island for a sign of life. There were more goats and sheep, plenty of gulls, and the occasional eagle, but there didn’t appear to be anyone on the paths or hills today. If the text she received had something to do with Jedediah, she wasn’t certain what she was looking for, but decided a human being was a good start.

  One of the women squealed when Dave hooked a lively chinook, and the fight was on. The enthusiasm was contagious and Alice was his biggest cheerleader.

  “Dave, you did it. That’s huge, hang on.”

  Minutes later the salmon was in the cooler, and Elaine whispered to Henri as she pointed to the sky. Henri’s grimace said it all, but in case the group didn’t understand, he too pointed and said, “I’m going to call this expedition done, folks. Those clouds are too dark, and we don’t have much for rain gear. If you can bear with me, we’ll head on back to the marina and see if we can miss the worst of it.”

  As Henri snapped down the awning for cover, Dave took over the crew with authority.

  “I’ll get the fishing equipment stowed. Magda, can you make sure everyone is secured in life vests - everyone, no excuses - and Charles, you can help Henri secure the awning.”

  The vessel was readied for the trip back to the marina, and the women huddled under the awning. Magda looked at her companions who appeared as orange marshmallows in their life jackets. Saori, still in her shark jacket, squeezed through their legs, up the stairs, and under a seat at the helm. Henri started the engine and began the route back to the marina, following as close to the shore as he dared.

  A steady drizzle began as they left, and waves picked up, slapping at the boat in warning. Magda gave up her binocular surveillance, hol
ding them in her lap, but kept her eyes on the island as they pulled away from the fishing spot. Rain greyed the coastline and the rock of the boat made it hard to focus on any particular cliff or path. She squinted toward the land as they went by small coves and tributaries draining into the ocean.

  As they rounded the last bend before crossing the water to the shelter of Lasqueti, Magda caught sight of a white craft secured in a small cove. Tucked into the shelter of trees along the rocky coastline, the boat wouldn’t be noticed by the casual observer. She picked up the binoculars and wiped the lenses with her shirt, quickly pressing them to her eyes.