Seagrass Pier

by Colleen Coble

  The door opened, and a woman in her late thirties or early forties peered at them. Her blond hair, cut in a stylish bob, looked freshly highlighted. She wore a short white skirt and a sleeveless pink top. Pretty in a way that looked like any enhancements had cost the earth. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Kimberly Bussey?”

  She frowned. “I am. Who are you two?”

  “I’m a special agent with the FBI and am investigating a murder aboard a ship a couple of months ago. Could we come in and speak with you?”

  “I haven’t been on a cruise in years. What’s this all about?” She didn’t wait for his answer but opened the door wider and stepped out of the way. “This way.”

  Her high-heeled sandals clicked on the polished wood floors as she led them to a large living room dominated by a massive stone fireplace. The white leather furniture was so pristine, he was half afraid to sit on it.

  She gestured to two upholstered chairs flanking the fireplace. “Have a seat and tell me what you want.” She went to the sofa and sat gingerly on the edge of the cushion.

  Elin held out her hand. “I’m Elin Summerall.”

  Kimberly looked startled, but she shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you.” Her expression sharpened. “Elin Summerall. The woman with the memories of a murder? I saw the article in the newspaper a few weeks ago. I thought you were a crackpot, but you seem to be sane.”

  The woman was outspoken, so maybe she would be just as candid about Ryan Mosely. Marc settled into the comfortable chair and waited until Elin sat down. “In our investigation, we ran across a complaint you made against an old boyfriend, Ryan Mosely.”

  Her gray eyes widened. “You think Ryan might have something to do with this murder? Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me. He’s a scary, scary guy.”

  Marc took out his iPad. “In what way? What was your relationship with him?”

  “We went out a few times. He seemed to think it was more than that when I told him I didn’t think we were compatible.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “I took my car in for repair. I was young and impressionable, and he was a handsome devil who had a way with words. That proverbial bad boy who is always irresistible to women.” Her bark of laughter held no levity. “Luckily for me, I caught him peeping in my bedroom window and realized what a sleazeball he was. The problem was, he wouldn’t leave me alone. I came home one night and found him in my kitchen.” She gave a delicate shudder.

  “What happened?”

  “He tried to kiss me, but I wrenched away and grabbed a knife. I told him to leave. He knocked the knife from my hand, then smashed his fist into my face.” She fingered her jaw. “Right here. I had a bruise for weeks. I’m lucky he didn’t break it.”

  “He didn’t . . . harm you?” Elin put in.

  Kimberly wrinkled her nose. “Not in the way you mean. I screamed at him, then grabbed a pan and threw it at him. He finally left, and I called the police, who took a statement.”

  “Why did you drop the charges?”

  She swallowed hard. “He told me if I didn’t, my little sister would be next.”

  “You believed him?” Marc asked.

  “Not at first. But a week later my sister came home bubbling about this really gorgeous guy named Ryan who walked her home from school. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew it was him.”

  “And it was?”

  She nodded, her face pale. “I parked by school the next day, and he was there waiting for her. He saw me and saluted with a smirk that turned my stomach. I drove straight to the police station and dropped the charges.”

  “Did he bother you or your sister again?” Elin asked.

  “No. And you can be sure I went to another place for auto repair.” She shivered and hugged herself.

  “Have you ever run into him?”

  “I saw him once in a department store. He grinned and started my way, but I boogied out of there before he could get to me. I hope never to hear his voice again. Why are you looking at him for this murder?”

  Marc itched to get his hands on this Mosely. “He was stalking the young woman who died. She was the daughter of his partner. Even though she told him she didn’t want to date him, he booked a cabin on a ship she worked on. Do you think he’s capable of murder?”

  “Absolutely. I think he’s capable of anything. I hope you throw his butt in jail. I’d be happy to know I’d never run into him again.”

  Marc rose and closed the cover of his iPad. “We’ll check him out. Thanks for your cooperation.”

  THIRTY

  They were stalled in traffic, and the stink of exhaust made Elin feel half sick. Her tummy rumbled, and she realized they hadn’t eaten lunch. She glanced at her watch. Nearly five. They had a three-hour drive ahead of them, plus a ferry ride out to the island. The last ferry left at seven. “We aren’t going to make the ferry. I had no idea it was so late.”

  Marc braked to miss a car cutting in front of him. “I didn’t either. Sorry, I should have paid better attention. We can drive to Nags Head and charter a boat home, then come back tomorrow to get my Tahoe, or we can stay here and talk to Mosely. What do you want to do?”

  She considered it. “Your parents are there with Josie. Do you think they’d mind if we don’t come back tonight? And I could call Sara and have her make sure Mom is doing okay. Kalianne is off tomorrow. We can stay in a hotel.”

  “My parents are in their element. They won’t mind at all.” He frowned. “I have a spare room at my place if you don’t mind staying there. And Sara left some things in the spare room. I think you’re about the same size.”

  “We are.” The thought of being alone with him made her pulse race. She wasn’t sure how she could handle it, but she didn’t want to spend the night in a hotel either. “Okay.” Surely she could keep her distance. She’d be mortified if he figured out how she was beginning to feel about him. He’d made it clear he had no romantic interest in her.

  She hadn’t been at his place since that night. And she wasn’t sure she was up to it tonight, but it was the logical choice. They were only friends, focused on the common goals of finding a killer and raising their daughter. That was all.

  “Let’s grab some food, then track down Mosely.” He glanced at her. “Let’s go to Los Fiesta.”

  “Okay.” He’d gone after food from there that night, but she’d never been there.

  She shut up and looked out the window. Traffic was finally moving again. A car followed very close on their bumper. She moved in her seat so she could see better. “What’s that car behind us? It kind of looks like the car that hit us.”

  He looked into the rearview mirror and frowned. “It’s a brown Chevy just like that one. Let’s see what he does.”

  He looked to the right and left, then whipped the car into the right lane and made a quick exit off the interstate. The other car tried to follow them but missed the exit and rolled to a stop along the side of the highway. The car started to roll backward, but the vehicle approaching in the closest lane honked.

  She clenched her fingers in her palms. “I think it was him!”

  “Looks like it. Let’s see if we can follow him.” Marc gunned the Tahoe onto the freeway entrance. “There it is in the right lane.”

  “Don’t get too close. We don’t want him to see us.”

  Marc nodded. Two cars were between them and the brown car. “Write down the plate number.”

  She grabbed her phone and notated the number. The car ahead of them moved to the left lane, and Marc eased the vehicle a little closer to the brown car. The red pickup between them and the brown car rolled off the freeway at the next exit.

  “I think I’d better hang back,” Marc said.

  But the driver must have realized he’d been spotted. Black smoke roiled from the tailpipe, and the brown car darted into the left lane.

  Elin leaned forward. “Don’t let him get away!”

  Marc whipped the steering wheel to t
he left and jammed the Tahoe in between a white Honda and a black SUV, but the brown car accelerated again and zoomed around the three cars in front of it, then darted into the right lane and exited the freeway.

  Marc smacked the steering wheel. “I can’t get over.”

  Elin watched the brown car race to the stop sign, then make a left. It disappeared over the hill. “We tried. We can call in the license-plate number.”

  Marc reached for his phone and nodded. Elin turned her head and looked out the window at the passing buildings. It looked like he was heading toward the restaurant now. Her pulse still raced from the chase, and she didn’t feel like eating anymore.

  He put his phone on the console. “The plate was reported stolen.”

  She groaned. “Great. So we have no idea who it was.”

  “Nope. Let’s go eat and forget this for a while.” He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

  Marc parked the Tahoe, and she quickly climbed out and stood looking at the bright-blue building with its garish orange lettering.

  Marc came around the front of the vehicle and touched her arm. “Looks like it pays to be a bit on the early side for dinner. We might even get a table.”

  They walked inside, and some of Elin’s discomfort faded at the rich scent of spicy tacos and fajitas. The orange walls and comfy booths made her smile. They placed their order for chipotle chicken tacos with an order of guacamole to share.

  Elin glanced across the table at him. “Nice place.”

  “Yeah.” He stared at her intently. “I don’t bring people here much. I don’t like to share it. I’ve only been here with Sara and my partner.”

  His words left her tongue-tied. Was it some kind of tacit admission that he felt something for her? “Will. Have you checked in with his wife lately?”

  He nodded. “She requested Will’s cell phone records for me. I’ve been looking through them for any unusual numbers. I asked her if he ever mentioned the mechanic shop or Ryan. She thought he took his vehicle in for work there a couple of days before he was killed.”

  “So we might be on the right track.”

  “Maybe.”

  The server brought their chips, dip, and guacamole. Marc thanked her and salted the chips. His gaze collided with hers in a way that made her cheeks warm. She searched for some hint of how he was feeling. His mouth was relaxed, and his hazel eyes stared straight into hers. She might have seen a flicker of heat in their depths, but she wasn’t quite sure.

  Sara’s head pulsed and throbbed with a pain that seemed to be centered above her left ear. She struggled to open her eyes, knowing the agony would intensify once she was fully awake. Her shoulders hurt, and something chafed at her wrists.

  She moaned and realized a rag prevented her from speaking. She forced her lids open to a mere slit. Instead of brilliant sunlight, she found darkness had fallen while she was out. Her hands were tied behind her, which was why her shoulders felt out of joint. Leaves covered her legs, and the darkness above her was complete. She saw only a glimmer of light in front of her. She struggled to a sitting position but could not get any leverage to stand. Her head bumped something.

  A cave, she was in a cave.

  It all came back to her then. Kalianne and the crate. The rock in her hand and the crushing blow. Where was the woman? And why had she left her here?

  Panic struggled to gain control, but she fought it back. Breathe. In and out, in and out. The tightness in her chest eased, and she rolled to her stomach, then wriggled toward the mouth of the cave where the small amount of light beckoned. Leaves crunched under her, and the strong, damp odor of detritus and mud filled her nose.

  When she reached the exit of the cave, a pair of boots blocked the opening. Someone walked back and forth. She couldn’t reach out, couldn’t speak. Grunts and moans came from behind the gag, but she wasn’t sure she was being heard. Her gaze traveled up the bare legs extending from shorts as the person strode past.

  Kalianne.

  What was the woman up to? She paced the front of the opening, waving her hands and muttering to herself. Sara struggled to hear past her own harsh breathing.

  “Sends me out here and leaves me to figure out what to do by myself!” A kick at a shrub nearly sent Kalianne sprawling. “How dare he leave me to handle this by myself? He should have been here over an hour ago. I’m tempted to get in my boat and head out of the country. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about this.” Another kick.

  Kalianne whirled, and the moonlight struck her face. Her eyes widened. “You’re awake.” She offered up an uneasy smile. “Sorry I had to do that. Your head hurt?”

  It hurt so badly Sara was afraid she was going to be sick. She swallowed down the bile in her throat and managed to nod.

  Kalianne knelt beside her. “I’ll remove the gag if you promise not to yell. The Coasties were all over this place looking for you. They’re gone now, so yelling won’t do you a bit of good. Promise?”

  A wave of dizziness assaulted Sara when she nodded again. All she wanted was a sip of water.

  Kalianne reached around and untied the cloth. “I’ve got a canteen of water. Here you go.” She held the cold metal lip up to Sara’s lips.

  Sara sipped greedily, then coughed. The nausea passed more quickly with the brackish water calming her roughened throat. “Thanks.” Her voice was a hoarse croak. “Can you untie me?”

  Kalianne stepped back and shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t go that far. My brother should be here any minute, and he’ll figure out what to do with you.”

  “W-Who’s your brother? Devi Long?”

  Kalianne inhaled sharply. “How’d you know? Do you know Devi?”

  “No, but I heard he was behind this drug shipment.” Dread curled in her stomach. The man wasn’t known for his mercy. He was likely to dump her overboard for the sharks. “He’s going to kill me, Kalianne. You know that. Then where will you be? An accessory to murder. Do you want that on your conscience? Let me go. Please.”

  Kalianne stared down at her. “H-He wouldn’t kill you.”

  Sara flexed her arms against her bonds. Were they just a trifle looser? “He’s murdered other people.”

  “That’s just what the news says. It’s not true. Yeah, he’s a drug smuggler. I wish he weren’t, but it pays the bills.” She must have seen Sara’s wince because she shrugged. “You’d be surprised at how many people don’t really care how he makes his money. He spends it freely on others, and he’s quite popular with people whose names you would know.”

  Sara turned her head when a twig snapped. More rustling noises came from her right. Whoever headed this way walked with assurance as though he knew where he was going. The breeze lifted her hair, and the faint aroma of a cigar came to her.

  Kalianne sniffed. “Here he comes now. He’s never without his cigar.” She looked down at Sara. “I’m really sorry you got messed up with this. You should have left it alone.” She moved away in the darkness, and her thrashing through the underbrush grew fainter.

  Sara heard her greet someone, then she made out the deeper tones of a male voice. Her pulse ratcheted up, and she strained harder at her bonds. There was no question they had to kill her. If they let her go, they knew she’d go straight to the authorities. She had to get away.

  The rope at her wrists gave a bit, and she felt something wet run along the skin. A coppery scent wafted to her, but she didn’t care if she was bleeding. He’d do a lot worse to her than rub the skin off in a small place. She worked the knots until finally her left hand slipped free. Bringing both arms around in front of her, she tore the remaining piece of rope from her right hand, then untied her ankles. She couldn’t feel her feet, but she stumbled up anyway.

  Her legs wouldn’t hold her, and she fell to her knees just as a dark figure loomed in the moonlight.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Marc rested his hand on Elin’s shoulder as he escorted her back to his SUV. “I shouldn’t have eaten so much.” He patted his belly. This
had been almost like a real date.

  “You might have to roll me to the Tahoe.” She moved so his hand fell away.

  Had she done it deliberately? She’d been skittish all day, probably from his proposal. Yet he could have sworn she was thinking about it. The thought of living with her and Josie forever made him want to push harder, but he didn’t want to scare her.

  “Mosely doesn’t live far from my place, only about five minutes.” He started the engine and pulled into the street. She still hadn’t spoken, so he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You’re quiet.”

  “Just contented.” She leaned her head against the seat. “It’s been a crazy day, and I’m tired.”

  He wanted to ask what she was thinking, but she’d already let him know she didn’t want to talk about his proposal. “There’s his place.” He pulled to the curb and turned off the car.

  The house was a ranch, probably about twenty years old, with tan vinyl siding and a small porch. The weeds and grass were a good eight inches tall. The shingles showed some wear and would need to be replaced in the next year.

  He glanced at her in the dim twilight. “Wait here. I’ll just check and see if he’s home. It kind of looks deserted. I bet the yard hasn’t been mowed in three weeks.”

  She shoved open her door. “I’m coming too. I don’t trust that guy. He might be waiting to ambush you.”

  Though he appreciated the way she sprang to his defense, he didn’t need protection. He came around the front of the vehicle and caught her arm. “Let me go first in case he’s the one who’s after you.”

  He stepped in front of her and advanced to the front porch. Spiderwebs clung to the siding around the door. Another web sparkled in a corner between a porch railing and the ceiling. Several newspapers, their print blurry from rain, lay piled near the door.

  A cat darted from under the swing and leaped down toward them. Elin gave a startled scream, then leaped to his other side. “Keep that thing away from me.”